The Eastgate plane crash

The Butcher's Arms in 1938 with landlord Charles Lappage at the door

A few minutes before midnight on Sunday 4th May 1941, the people of Bourne were woken by the sound of gunfire and the throb of aircraft engines as two planes battled it out over the town.

World War II had broken out 18 months before and the German Luftwaffe was engaged in a massive bombing campaign against sensitive British targets in the industrial cities such as Sheffield, Birmingham and Newcastle. On this occasion, a German Junkers 88 was bound for the East Midlands, probably Grantham which was home to the Aveling Barford and
B-Marc munitions factories, both producing weapons and other military equipment for the armed services, when it was intercepted by a Royal Air Force Bristol Beaufighter and a dog fight ensued.

The Junkers loosed a number of incendiary bombs over the town but they failed to inflict any damage and after several minutes of combat, with flashes of machine gun fire lighting up the night sky, the Junkers was badly damaged and the pilot injured and the plane nose-dived earthwards with flames streaming from the fuselage.

It crashed on the Butcher’s Arms alongside the Bourne Eau at No 32 Eastgate, demolishing the public house, setting fire to the ruins and killing seven people inside.

They included the licensee, Charles Lappage and his wife Fanny and two relatives, Mrs Lappage's sister, Mrs Violet Jackson, and her daughter, Mrs Minnie Cooper, who were also staying in the house, and an army officer and a soldier who were billeted there although a third soldier died later from his injuries.

THOSE ON DUTY

Les Jackson, aged 18, was fire watching at the premises of T W Mays and Sons Ltd in Eastgate and was standing at the end of Willoughby Road talking to others on duty when they heard the aircraft’s engines. In 1998, then aged 76, and living in Stanley Street, he recalled that night. “The aircraft appeared to be coming in from the coast”, he said. “Somebody said it sounded like one of ours but then the cannons opened up and bits of fuselage started falling all around us but we could not see a thing because it was pitch black.

“We realised by the sound that the plane was in trouble because the engine appeared to be going up and down like a yo-yo. We reckoned that the pilot had been shot and the rest of the crew were trying to get him away from the control so that they could take over but they didn’t succeed. Instead, it went into a dive and the engines started screaming. It came down nose first and must have been dropping at a terrific speed. We thought at first that it had come down on the recreation ground, about a hundred yards away, but it was far closer than that. I walked down towards the slipe [the South Fen] and saw a parachute in the road and next to it one the crew lay dead. I then went down Eastgate and saw what had happened.

“It was like nothing I had ever seen before. There were bodies all over the place. The plane had sliced the pub away from the row of houses as clean as a whistle. You would have thought it had been done by the builders. The aircraft had gone straight through the building and the engines had gone right into the ground for about 25 feet. The whole area was covered in some sort of de-icing chemical and the smell from it was terrible.

“I ran to the police station in North Street to get help and was quite out of breath when I got there and worse still, when I told them that a plane had come down in Eastgate and there was dead lying all over the place they didn’t believe me at first. The inspector on duty said ‘You’re bloody dreaming’ and so I told them to come back and see for themselves.”

Mr Jackson, who later served with the 11th Armoured Division in France and Germany, added: “I remember the events of that night in every detail. It was a very nasty experience. It was my first taste of war and you don’t forget things like that. I had never seen a dead man before and I kept thinking about it for weeks afterwards.”

A Home Guard unit was stationed at the Ship Inn, Pinchbeck, and at 11.30 pm, the duty guard saw the flashes of light from the dog fight over Bourne, ten miles away. Private Tom Bray, aged 20, entered in the unit’s report book: “Plane seen to fall in flames after two short bursts of machine gun fire, west of guard point. Heavy detonations west to north-west, intermittent flashes.”

Among those first on the scene was Ernie Robinson who was on duty with a team of volunteers from the town's Civil Defence unit based at the Old Grammar School in South Road that had been specially trained to deal with air raid casualties. In 1998, then aged 97, he recalled the scene when they arrived: “We heard the plane coming down”, he said. “It was only on the other side of the Abbey Lawn and so we did not have far to go and we turned out immediately.

“It was a shambles, a real mess. Soldiers from the Loyal Regiment were billeted in Eastgate and one of them who had been on guard duty had been killed. There was not a lot we could do to help and it was really a case of clearing up as best we could. We found two of the German aircrew and carried off their bodies to the stables behind the Six Bells public house in North Street. The police station was next door in those days and they took over as soon as we arrived and we left them searching through their clothing to find some identification. Bourne was usually peaceful during the war years but it certainly was not on that occasion which turned out to be one of the busiest nights of the war.”

CIVILIAN WITNESSES

Vera Bristow and her husband Roland were living with her parents at Walton House, Eastgate, at the time of the crash. The house was just a few yards away from the Butcher’s Arms and although the property was not damaged, telephone wires just six feet above the roof were slashed by the plane as it came down. Sixty years later, in October 1998, Vera, then aged 80, and Roland, aged 81, then living in Harvey Close, Bourne, relived the experience. Roland was on war work at the B-MARC arms factory in Grantham which made the machine guns for RAF fighter planes and when the cannon shots began bursting over Bourne that night he was able to identify the interceptor plane from the sound of its guns.
“We had just gone to bed”, he said, “and once I heard the noise I could tell it was a Bristol Beaufighter straight away. Then we heard the German plane with its engines screaming over the rooftops. You can imagine the noise as it came down. I will never forget it.”

They dressed quickly and went out into the street. “The Butcher’s Arms was totally devastated”, said Vera. “Most of it had been knocked into the river and the entire aircraft was buried in the rubble with green fuel oil running down the road. The smell was quite awful.”

Other soldiers staying at the public house had been injured and Vera took them back to their home, bandaged their wounds and gave them mugs of hot tea.

Stephen Hare, aged 22, who was home on leave from the RAF and staying with his grandmother at her house in Hereward Street, Bourne, saw the plane come down from his bedroom window. “I was woken by a burst of gunfire followed a few seconds later by another”, he said. “I looked out of the window and couldn’t see anything except what I thought was a shooting star flashing across the night sky. Then all of a sudden I realised it was a plane. It did not appear to lose height at first but then suddenly started to fall although I had no idea where it had come down.”

Within minutes, residents living nearby began milling about the streets, some who had hurriedly dressed while others were wearing pyjamas and dressing gowns, all trying to find out what had happened.

Albert Bull, aged 19, was a nephew of the landlord, Charles Lappage, and lived nearby at No 57 Willoughby Road. “That night, we heard the bullets exploding and I was told later that the RAF plane had chased the bomber all the way from Hull”, he recalled in 1998. “We went out into the street as soon as we heard the crash and the police told us what had happened. They had already cordoned off Eastgate and were stopping anyone going through but when they realised that my mother Annie was the landlord’s sister, they let us through. Mum was in tears and very upset and I tried my best to comfort her but it was a very difficult time.”

Mrs Kathleen Ferguson, then aged 18, was living with her parents, Florence and James Hanford, in Eastgate, just three doors away from the public house, and they were woken by the commotion overhead. “We saw the planes from our back bedroom window and when it crashed, all hell broke loose”, she recalled later. “Soldiers started banging on our doors telling us to get out in case there were unexploded bombs on board and when we got into the street there was fire and rubble all over the place. We just did not know what was happening. It was a most terrible experience.”

THE AIRCRAFT INVOLVED

The Junkers or Ju 88 was one of the most important and versatile German aircraft of World War II, having been developed by the Luftwaffe for every kind of combat role, including dive bomber, night fighter, day interceptor, photo reconnaissance, tank destroyer, and even as a pilot-less missile, the forerunner of the flying bomb. The Ju 88 made its first flight on 21st December 1936 and hundreds were still in use when the war ended in 1945.

The Bristol Beaufighter was first used by the Royal Air Force in April 1940 as a high performance night fighter equipped with airborne interception radar and successfully operated against the German night raids in the winter of 1940-1941. It was later used by Coastal Command as a strike fighter when the original formidable gun armament was retained but rockets and torpedoes were added giving it an even greater fire power. Not only did the Beaufighter operate with distinction in North West Europe, but also a considerable reputation was earned in the Middle and Far East.

THE GERMAN CREW

The Junkers had a crew of four and three of them baled out but two were killed when their parachutes failed to open and their bodies were found some distance away. The pilot, Adam Becker, aged 28, had remained at the controls and was buried in the wreckage of the inn where the aircraft had embedded itself in the foundations. The other two who lost their lives were Reinhold Kitzelmann, aged 22, radio operator, and Karl J Focke, aged 22, observer.

A third crew member, the rear gunner, Rudolf Dachsesel, survived. He landed by parachute south of the town near Northorpe and was slightly injured but gave himself up to the Home Guard next day after walking into Bourne along South Road. He later returned with a police escort to recover a revolver he had hidden at the roadside a few yards from Baldock’s Mill.

The escort included Constable Ron Jarvis who was based at the police station in North Road, Bourne, from 1939-41 and had helped to clear the rubble from the crash site. “The airman told us that as soon as the plane was hit, he pushed his guns out and decided to follow them”, he recalled in 1998. “We put him in the cells but he was not with us for long before an army unit arrived and took him away.”

The body of the pilot, Adam Becker, was found after extensive digging by the rescue services and all three of the bomber crew who had been killed were buried in the town cemetery at Bourne the following Thursday after a short graveside service conducted by the Vicar of Bourne, the Rev Charles Horne. In 1959, the War Graves Commission arranged for their exhumation and reburial at the war memorial cemetery at Cannock Chase in Staffordshire.

Engineering experts from the Ministry of Defence arrived next day and removed what was left of the aircraft for workshop examination but they did not recover everything and it is believed that one of the engines and other parts of the wings and fuselage still lie on the bottom of the Bourne Eau.

THE ROYAL AIR FORCE CREW

Although they completed a successful mission in shooting down a German bomber, the crew of the Bristol Beaufighter took no pleasure in the incident because of the subsequent loss of life and property. Flight Lieutenant John Hunter-Tod was the plane’s radar officer and navigator and in 1993, he wrote to Roland Bristow explaining their feelings. In May 1941, he was serving with No 25 Squadron (Beaufighters) based at RAF Wittering, near Stamford, and flying with the commanding officer, Wing Commander David Atcherley, at the controls. The Beaufighter had been specially fitted with radar to enable it attack Luftwaffe bombers on their nightly raids over Britain.

Hunter-Tod, then living at Dartmouth, Devon, said in his letter to Mr Bristow: “I remember the event quite well although some of the details are now a bit hazy. The morning after the incident, we went to Bourne in a staff car to see our victim, not realising that we had scored an own goal. What we saw certainly took the gilt off the gingerbread and we tactfully withdrew. I knew that several soldiers billeted at the pub had been killed but not that the place had been obliterated. What a shambles! You were lucky not to have had the Ju 88 landing on you.”

David Atcherley (1904-1952) was commissioned in the RAF in 1927 and served with distinction, becoming a legend in the service with his twin brother Richard and achieving the rank of Air Vice Marshal. He was awarded the DFC (1942), the DSO (1944), the CBE (1946) and the CB (1950) shortly before he died.

Sir John Hunter-Tod (1917-2000) was commissioned in 1940, serving with Fighter Command and in the Middle East, and after a notable war record, had a series of important defence posts, being promoted Air Marshal in 1971 before retiring in 1973.

THE VICTIMS

The soldiers who were killed were all serving with the Loyal Regiment (North Lancashire) which was based at Grimsthorpe Castle from 1940-41 with tented accommodation in the grounds although some platoons were billeted at various locations throughout Bourne, including Eastgate.

They were Lieutenant Harold Schofield, aged 28, Private Harrison Mackean, aged 33, and a Welshman, Private Clifford James, aged 29, who was fatally injured and died in hospital at Sleaford a few days later. He was a regular soldier who had served in India and Palestine and had even survived Dunkirk. Six other soldiers were hurt in the incident but all recovered from their injuries and returned to duty.

One of their colleagues, Private John (Hank) Hankinson, who was also billeted in Eastgate for a time, remembered the incident in November 1998 when he was 81 and living at Worsley, Manchester. “We all made many friends in the town during our stay and certainly livened the place up at weekends”, he said. “There were one or two regimental bandsmen with us and they used to play for dances at the Corn Exchange on Fridays and Saturdays and they were always popular events. The people were really nice and friendly, especially some of the girls, and many long term relationships were formed.

“The loss of Taffy James affected us most because he was a real old soldier who had seen much service, a very witty chap and a noted character in the regiment who was known and liked by everyone.”

A month after the tragedy, the Loyal Regiment moved out of Bourne bound for North Africa where it fought with distinction in the desert campaign against Rommel’s Afrika Corps and one officer won the Victoria Cross, awarded posthumously.

THE PUBLIC HOUSE

The Butcher’s Arms in Eastgate was built of brick and blue slate and dated back to the early 19th century although there was probably a beer house on the site prior to that. It became a popular drinking place for fen farmers and agricultural workers, particularly between 1885 and 1913 when the licensee was Samuel Bolton because he also farmed in North Fen and so crops and the weather was a regular topic of conversation. Later, during the early years of the 20th century, it was patronised by men working at the Hereward Labour Camp that was established in Bourne to help ease the national unemployment crisis.

 The licensee when this photograph was taken of the Butcher's Arms between 
1885 and 1913 was Samuel Bolton, who also farmed in North Fen, and the 
two ladies posing for the camera appear to be his wife and daughter.

Many of them came from the north of England and they started using the pub after discovering that it served their favourite mild beer at 4d. a pint. During the Second World War it became the local for soldiers billeted at houses in the Eastgate area and sergeants from the Loyal Regiment commandeered the front sitting room as their mess while visiting officers and padres were often given accommodation during their stay.

INFORMING THE RELATIVES

One of the most difficult duties for the emergency services in times of disaster is in informing relatives of what has happened. The next of kin of soldiers who were killed were officially told by the military authorities according to a set procedure, often by letter, but it was the task of the police to contact families of those civilians who had lost their lives and this usually involved a personal visit. Charles and Fanny Lappage had a son, George, who was living in Grantham with his wife Eva and their two children, Trevor and Joan, and therefore he was the first to be contacted with the tragic news.

George died in 1987 aged 76 but in October 1998, Eva, then aged 82, recalled the dramatic events of that fateful night. There was an air raid on Grantham that night and the family had just gone to bed after the all clear had sounded when there was a knock at the door.

“Two policemen stood outside”, said Eva, who answered. “They said: ‘Would you mind going inside and sitting down. We had some bad news for you.’ The crash had only happened a short time before and they were unable to say exactly what had happened although it did involve George’s parents and the Butcher’s Arms. We dropped Trevor off a friend’s house and took Joan with us and hired a taxi to take us to Bourne but halfway there a wheel broke and it took so long to repair that it was dawn before we finally arrived.

“The taxi got to Eastgate and there were crowds milling about at the end of the street but the police were not letting anyone through until someone shouted ‘Here’s Mr and Mrs Lappage’ and we were escorted to the scene of the crash and I saw what had happened. All you could see was the tail end of the plane sticking out from a pile of rubble and the wreckage was still smouldering. It was a horrible sight and one that I have never forgotten.”

She and George retrieved a few items from the ruins including Charles’ watch chain that Eva still wears as a necklace. But there was little else they could do and after a few hours visiting friends, they returned home to Grantham. Coincidentally, they had been due to visit Bourne for the weekend but had called off the trip at the last moment. "Had we gone, we too would have been killed", recalled Eva. "The irony was that both Minnie and Violet also lived in Grantham and had gone to Bourne as a respite from the bombing because the town was a target as a result of the munitions factories based there."

A joint funeral was held in Grantham later that week for all four of the family who died in the crash and all are buried in the town cemetery.

THE AFTERMATH

During the war, salvage teams had no time to retrieve debris after such incidents and so the hole was filled in and the site of the Butcher's Arms levelled. It remained derelict until after the war when it was bought for a garage development by the late Jack Edmund Lovell (1929-2005) of Riverside Motors which opened in 1959.

Five years later, in August 1964, he was expanding the business with the installation of new underground petrol storage tanks and a JCB was brought in to dig the necessary holes to accommodate them. A small crowd had gathered to watch the work proceed and there was much talk of the bomber crash which was still fresh in many people’s minds.

Digger driver Derek Bowers, aged 27, was at the controls and once his machine began to excavate the site, fragments from the plane and even machine gun bullets were being unearthed. The machine then struck something more substantial and made of metal. “I hit it with the bucket”, recalled Derek in later years. “I thought at first that it might be a wheel from the undercarriage and I began hammering away in an attempt to move it but it wouldn’t budge. Somebody went down into the hole to have a look – I think it was Bill Darnes – but he got out pretty quickly when he realised it was a bomb.”

The digger had in fact unearthed a 1,100 lb. unexploded bomb almost eight feet below the surface that had buried itself so deeply in the ground that its presence was undetected when the crater caused by the plane crash had been covered over and left 23 years before. The police were alerted and they called in a bomb disposal expert but a preliminary investigation revealed that it was not likely to explode although the area was cordoned off for the night and residents in Eastgate spent many anxious hours fearing that it might explode and some even went to sleep with friends and relatives as a safety precaution.

The following morning at 3 am, a squad arrived from RAF Newton near Nottingham and loaded the bomb on to a lorry and took it away for disposal. The officer in charge said that it was still "live" in that it still contained its high explosives but it was "safe" in that the fuses were not energised. The excavations also unearthed two clips of live ammunition, electrical wiring and a fuel pipe from the aircraft.

Jack Lovell said afterwards: “A few of our older residents who remembered the crash turned out to watch the excavations half-expecting us to find something and they were not disappointed. What they did not realise was that the bomb would have blown the street up if it had gone off. I would not be surprised if there were a few more bombs down there still.”

He was only 13 at the time of the plane crash and living in the Austerby but he joined dozens of more curious boys who flocked there on the Monday morning to witness the devastation. “We went there looking for bits of the aeroplane and even bullets as souvenirs”, he said. “One thing I did get was the original sign from the Butcher’s Arms which was badly damaged and I hung it in the garage after it was built as a reminder of that terrible night.”

NO MEMORIAL

After Jack retired from business, the garage was demolished in 2001 and new homes built the following year now occupy the site but there is no indication of the tragedy that occurred there more than half a century ago. Memories of the disaster were revived in 1998 when the Stamford Mercury launched a campaign to provide a lasting memorial to those who died, both German and British, in order that the younger generation might be reminded of the conditions that existed during those wartime days.

The Mayor of Bourne, Councillor Don Fisher, gave his full support to the idea and although he himself was not a resident at the time of the crash, he felt it was an important event in the town’s history that should be commemorated. He told the newspaper: “There are still many people in Bourne who witnessed the event or went to look at the scene of the disaster afterwards and therefore it should be remembered as part of the consequences of the war to this town and one that came as a tremendous shock to the community.”

There was also support from members of the Lappage family and the design for an engraved plaque to be financed by public subscription and placed in the Abbey Church was contemplated but despite an intensive campaign by the newspaper over several weeks, interest waned and the idea of a memorial came to nothing.