Auction: 20001 - Orders, Decorations and Medals - conducted behind closed doors
Lot: 744
An impressive Second World War Pathfinder's D.F.C. group of six awarded to Flight Lieutenant K. I. R. Milligan, Royal Canadian Air Force
A veteran of some 40 operational sorties in Lancasters of No. 7 (P.F.F.) Squadron, in which his pilot and crew often acted as 'Marker' or 'Master Bomber' against heavily defended targets in Germany - and in vital support of the Normandy operations in the summer of 1944 - he was elected to the membership of the Caterpillar Club on taking to his parachute over Germany in October 1944
In between he survived several sustained enemy night fighter attacks, on one occasion returning to base in Lancaster peppered with 183 holes: it was a write-off
He was also witness to a remarkable 'flying saucer' sighting on returning from a sortie to France in August 1944, an incident convincingly described in David Clarke's The UFO Files: The Inside Story of Real Life Sightings
Distinguished Flying Cross, G.VI.R., the reverse officially dated '1944; 1939-45 Star; Air Crew Europe Star, clasp, France and Germany; Defence Medal 1939-45, silver; Canadian Voluntary Service Medal 1939-45, with Overseas clasp; War Medal 1939-45, silver, together with the recipient's Caterpillar Club membership badge, with 'ruby' eyes, the reverse officially inscribed 'P./O. K. I. R. Milligan', and metalled and embroidered R.C.A.F. aircrew badges, very fine and better (Lot)
D.F.C. London Gazette 14 November 1944. The original recommendation states:
'This officer has completed 38 operational sorties, all of them with the Path Finder Force. 35 of these sorties have been as a Marker and the crew, of which he is a member, have on a great many occasions acted as Master Bomber.
Flight Lieutenant Milligan, as Air Bomber, has always set his mind on the task in hand, fearlessly and with utter disregard to self. His courage, skill and determination have set a fine example to the Squadron.'
Kenneth Ivie Roy Milligan was born in Vancouver on 4 September 1917. Educated at Vancouver Collegiate and Magee High School, where he excelled at sports, young Kenneth was employed as a solicitor's clerk on the outbreak of hostilities in September 1939.
Having then enlisted in the Militia - and risen to the rank of Corporal in the Canadian Seaforth Highlanders - he joined the Royal Canadian Air Force in April 1942. Selected for pilot training he was, in the event, re-selected for training as an Air Bomber. He duly qualified in Manitoba in the summer of 1943 and was embarked for the U.K. as a recently commissioned Pilot Officer.
Path Finder Force
Advanced to Flying Officer after attending a Bomb Aimer's course at R.A.F. Warboys, Milligan was posted to No. 7 (P.F.F.) Squadron at R.A.F. Oakington in February 1944 and joined the crew of an experienced pre-tour pilot, Flight Lieutenant Brian Frow, R.A.F. It was a happy landing, as recounted by the Wireless Operator, Warrant Officer Roy Claridge, in Tom Docherty's history, No. 7 Bombing Squadron R.A.F. in World War Two:
'When we arrived at No. 7 Squadron it seemed another world. We seemed to make our own rules, we were all equal and the station seemed like a good club. The first thing that happened was we were all promoted one rank, and were allowed to wear the Path Finder Eagle Badge, but we had to obtain at least ten good aiming points in order to keep it. We thought this was impossible, especially as losses on the Squadron were so high. During my first month on the Squadron we lost two Wing Commanders on 'Ops.', W./C. Rampling and W./C. Barron.
Nobody was worried about rank or bullshit. I mainly flew in civilian clothes to make it easier if we were shot down and had to go on the run. Full uniform was only worn outside the base, usually when we all got into Brian Frow's Austin Ten for a trip to Cambridge to drink large quantities of beer. Food was very good, when we were on 'Ops.'. We had two meals of eggs, bacon, sausages and toast with butter, one before the mission and on our return. When not on 'Ops.' We did various air tests, sometimes flying so low we would go back with a tree branch lodged in the air intake!'
And the happy crew was joined on eight sorties by Roy Claridge's cocker spaniel 'Pirate', who was awarded an honorary Pathfinder's badge.
The first of their sorties took place in March-April 1944 and were against German targets of the heavily defended kind, among them Essen, Frankfurt and Stuttgart.
Close encounters of the night fighter kind
But in May No. 7 Squadron turned its attention to a flurry of French targets in the run-up to the Normandy landings and, following D-Day, to emerging V-weapon sites. Of particular note was a hair-raising strike against the flying bomb site at L'Hey in the Pas de Calais on 23 June 1944, when Milligan's Lancaster endured multiple nightfighter attacks. Docherty's history takes up the story:
'On 23 June 1944, after attacking the flying bomb site at L'Hey in the Pas de Calais, Milligan and his crew endured multiple night fighter attacks on the journey home. Docherty's history takes up the story:
'At 0025 hours they were at 7,000 feet when S./L. Frow noticed a Ju. 88 positioning for an attack on another Lancaster slightly below on their port side. He ordered the Bomb Aimer Flight Lieutenant Milligan to open fire with the front gun, along with the Mid-upper Gunner, W./O. 'Taff' Erasmus. After a couple of bursts Milligan's guns jammed, and Ernie Wharton the Rear Gunner then opened up. As he did so the Ju. 88 opened fire on the other Lancaster and immediately broke away. The enemy aircraft's aim was good and the doomed Lancaster caught fire and was not seen again.
Five minutes later, F./O. Ernie Wharton saw a pale amber light on the port quarter, slightly below the Lancaster at 500 yards, and closing in. He immediately got on the intercom requesting the Mid-upper Gunner, W./O. Erasmus to search to starboard. Wharton then identified it as a twin-engined fighter and gave a short burst at 550 yards. After a second burst the enemy fighter's starboard engine caught fire and it dived steeply into a nearby cloud, where a large explosion could be seen and heard.
In another five minutes, 'Taff' Erasmus spotted a night fighter on the starboard quarter, just 300 yards away. Due to a faulty intercom he was unable to inform the pilot, so he tried using his indicator light that would flash in the cockpit.
Unfortunately, S./L. Frow was too busy trying to fly the aircraft to notice the flashes amongst his many dials, and the next thing they all knew was hearing a burst of enemy cannon fire that ripped away part of the starboard tailplane rudder and fin, and part of the starboard mainplane. W./O. Erasmus reacted quickly and opened fire on a Me. 210 whilst F./O. Wharton quickly turned his rear turret to starboard and opened fire. Ernie Wharton soon found out that his intercom was also unserviceable when the turret was in the starboard position and also, on opening fire, found that his guns were jammed with belt and link stoppages. Rotating his turret back to port restored the intercom and he hurriedly told Brian Frow to corkscrew to starboard, whilst working desperately to free his guns. Swinging his turret back to starboard he fired a short burst, joining 'Taff' Erasmus in the combat. The Me. 210 came in close again and Wharton told the pilot to corkscrew beam down, with all the gunners opening up again. The fighter broke away clearly damaged after strikes to its fuselage were observed and was not seen again.
S./L. Frow started to assess the damage to the Lancaster and found that most of the main systems were not functioning correctly. The under-carriage had to be lowered manually and the brakes had failed. The bomber was leaking fuel and two engines were in a poor state. Fire could break out at any moment but luckily none of the crew were injured. The aircraft, now over the moonlit sea, turned on its back, became unstable and lost height rapidly. Brian Frow throttled back and continued to heave at the controls, finally levelling out at 800 feet above the water. Being an experienced pilot, he made a controlled landing at R.A.F. Woodbridge but 'A-Apple' was a write-off, with 183 cannon and bullet holes found on landing.
On their way back to R.A.F. Oakington the crew stopped off in a transport café, where Roy Claridge the Wireless Operator found a sixpence in his trouser pocket, which he promptly placed into a fruit machine located in a corner of the café. The machine went berserk, with lights flashing and noises like machine-gun firing, finally spewing out £25 in change over the floor. This confirmed to the crew that someone was watching over them at night and paid for a lot of beer to celebrate later in Cambridge.'
Brian Frow was awarded an immediate Bar to his D.F.C. and Erasmus and Wharton D.F.Cs.
Following half a dozen return trips to the Pas de Calais, Milligan and his crew had yet another run-in with enemy night fighters on the night of 20-21 July 1944, during a strike against the oil refineries at Homberg. Roy Claridge takes up the story:
'S./L. Frow was flying at 16,000 feet when the Rear Gunner, F./L. Ernie Wharton saw a Me. 210 on the port side, flying slightly above at 400 yards. He requested Brian Frow to stand by to dive to port and the Mid-upper Gunner 'Taff' Erasmus to keep a sharp lookout to starboard. Wharton opened fire with a 2-second burst at the same time as the night fighter did, with Wharton's bullets reaching the target and the Me. 210 was seen to burst into flames and fall to the ground. Within a few minutes Wharton spotted another night fighter attacking a Lancaster on their port side.
Again warning the pilot to stand by to dive to port, and also telling the Mid-upper Gunner and Wireless Operator to keep a lookout to starboard, he opened fire. The twin-engined night fighter broke away and dived to starboard, the crew confirming it was damaged. Almost immediately the Mid-upper Gunner sighted another Me. 210 slightly above them on the starboard quarter and closing in for the kill. The bomber was committed to the bombing run at this point and the Rear Gunner was unable to give the pilot avoiding action. Wharton opened fire with a long burst just as the fighter did the same and scored hits. The Me. 210 broke away to starboard and Wharton suggested to the pilot that he should start weaving as there were several fighter flares seen in the area. Wharton claimed the Me. 210 as probably destroyed.'
Close encounters of a very different kind
Having then acted as Deputy Master Bomber on several further sorties, Milligan and his crew undertook duties as Master Bomber against the oil refineries at La Pailice in France on the night of 10-11 August. It was to prove a memorable trip. David Clarke's The UFO Files: The Inside Story of Real Life Sightings, takes up the story:
'The crew were on their way back from an operation over La Pailice, France, in August 1944, with the Wireless Operator, Roy Claridge, hunched over his aircraft's radar, scanning for enemy night fighters, when the screen suddenly went blank, which he reported to his pilot. At the same time Brian Frow the pilot shouted out, "What the hell was that?" Claridge moved quickly into the astrodome and saw what appeared to be 'an enormous string of lights' on the starboard side of the aircraft. He recalled:
'The lights were circular, rather like portholes in a ship. The colour was a very bright yellow changing to an intense white. My estimate was that they were about 1000 yards from our aeroplane. The ones nearest our Lancaster were the largest and brightest, they stretched fore and aft to what seemed infinity. After about 30 seconds I could see they were part of an enormous disc.'
The rest of the crew by now had been alerted by the intercom chatter, and could now see the phenomenon for themselves, and were left strangely transfixed by the experience. Claridge recalled:
'We had no feelings of fear but feelings of great calm, even our gunners who would normally open fire were helpless.'
Claridge timed the incident for his radar log at just three minutes before the object 'suddenly shot ahead and was gone. There was no engine noise or vapour of any kind and we were travelling at 240 m.p.h.' The crew were stunned and spoke very little for the rest of the journey home.
During their de-briefing the R.A.F. Intelligence Officer seemed to be more interested in their feelings of well-being, rather than the actual experience. They were instructed not to discuss the incident or make entries in their flying log books.'
Roy Claridge was so taken with the encounter that he later made an oil painting of the craft flying near to the Lancaster.
'Spare bod' - the Caterpillar Club enlists a new member
The French agenda having continued apace in the remainder of August, Milligan was granted two weeks leave and recommended for the D.F.C.
On his return to the Squadron in September - and the remainder of his old crew having been rested - he found himself a 'spare bod'. As a result, he was allocated to the crew of Flying Officer Ray Beaune, who was ordered to attack the synthetic oil refinery at Gelsenkirchen on the night of 6-7 October. As evidenced by Milligan's MI9 report, completed on his return from captivity in May 1945, it was an unhappy trip:
'It was a normal trip to the target area but we were hit by flak on the run-up about 8-10 miles from the release point, causing fire. The pilot feathered both port engines and we continued on track to bomb the target. This happened south-west of Wesel, still on track. We prepared to abandon the aircraft at this time. After I released our bomb load, I gave a course of 355 True until clear of the Wesel, then turned onto 270 True for our own lines. The engines, I believe, must have been re-started at this time. The fire caught again and the pilot gave orders to bale out. The Mid-upper and Rear Gunner with the Wireless Operator had been given orders to stay near the rest position. But I thought they must have gone back. The Engineer went out the front hatch, followed by the Navigator, followed by myself.'
Milligan, who was soon captured near Emmerich, was interrogated for two weeks at Frankfurt and then incarcerated at Stulag Luft III. He subsequently endured the horrors of the 'Death March' in early 1945, escaping Soviet hospitality and reaching Allied lines in May.
Repatriated to Canada, he served in the R.C.A.F. Auxiliary until 1949 and died in Vancouver in May 1983; sold with a comprehensive file of research and four wartime photographs.
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Sold for
£2,200
Starting price
£1800