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Australia

Arthur Benson was a twenty-one-year-old station hand working on the ‘OK’ station near Goondiwindi, Qld, when he enlisted in the RAAF on 19 July 1941. He began his initial training at 2 ITS in Bradfield Park. Arthur was the son of Charles and Gertrude Benson of Copeland, near Inverell. Charles, a grazier, had served in the Great War as a sapper in a tunnelling company.

In 1939, Arthur served for six months in the RAAF Air Cadet Training Scheme. The scheme provided young men with elementary flying training to ascertain their suitability for either a short service commission in the RAAF or the RAF.
Arthur learnt to fly at RAAF Point Cook in Victoria between February and June 1939. He logged over sixty-seven hours, including almost thirty-four solo, but he was discharged in June 1939, ‘on Air Board Instructions’ . Arthur later stated that he had wanted to fly as he realised aviation would be big business in the future and he wanted to be part of it.

In 1941, despite having already completed a course of instruction under the RAAF, Arthur was made to start learning all over again on his arrival at 5 EFTS in Narromine with the remainder of Pilots’ Course 20. His nickname in the RAAF was ‘Buzz’; he claimed in 2014 that he was nicknamed after a minor American actor, Buzz Benson, who used to appear in Saturday matinee movies. Family folklore, however, was that he had got into trouble in Point Cook in 1939 for ‘buzzing’ or flowing low to scare a cow. This explanation might possibly shed light on why he had not been selected for service in the pre-war RAAF or for a commission in the RAF, and had to repeat his training in 1941.

When asked in late 2014 if the staff at 5 EFTS had given him any credit for his previous flying, Arthur gave a wry smile and said, ‘I had to complete the course at the same rate as everybody else and that was it!’ Although Arthur’s wartime RAAF logbook has gone missing, his service record indicates that he flew seventy hours in Narromine, thirty-five of which were solo, slightly more than some of his course mates.

The exact reason why Arthur had to re-do his initial training in full is lost in time. However, the RAAF did have a recruitment policy that only private pilots with more than a hundred hours’ experience were accepted into an accelerated program. It is equally possible that Arthur was simply caught up in red tape and that it was not a result of his behaviour in 1939. His Narromine course mate Dick Perry who not only held a private pilot’s license, but also owned his own plane, had to complete the entire elementary flying training course.

At the later stages of his training in Narromine, Arthur was convicted of ‘cruelty to a cat’ and was sentenced to twenty-eight days confined to base with loss of pay. Having served his sentence, he rejoined the remainder of the course and embarked for Canada on the SS President Monroe. He landed in San Francisco on 15 May and arrived in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada three days later.

Training at RCAF Dauphin was fast-paced and any man who did not meet the necessary milestones was quickly culled from the course. Arthur’s extra seventy flying hours would have proven invaluable in meeting the demands of his instructors. Little record remains of his time in Dauphin other than that he flew training sequences with Bill Gunning on a number of occasions.

His service record does note that he flew ninety-two hours as first pilot, ninety-one hours as second pilot or under instruction (dual) and thirty-one hours as crew (instructor). The thirty-one hours as crew were almost certainly in the latter phases of his course, when the better pilots in the graduating class were used in a junior instructor role to accompany pilots in the following course on navigation training flights.

On 25 September 1942, Arthur was awarded his wings and was promoted to the rank of sergeant. Along with other members of his course, he was allowed to proceed on leave with instructions to report to the air force depot in Halifax, Nova Scotia by 7 October.

Arthur embarked for Gourock, Scotland on 28 October on the RMS Queen Elizabeth. He sailed on 31 October and by 5 November; he had arrived at the RAAF reception depot at 11 PDRC at Bournemouth. In late December, he commenced advanced flying training at 11 AFU at RAF Shawbury, where he again ran afoul of authority. He was found, in the early hours of 16 January, in bed with Aircraftwoman J. Richardson. Arraigned before the Group Captain, Arthur was found guilty of conduct prejudicial and was severely reprimanded.
He completed his advanced flying course on 23 February and was posted to 10 OTU in Uxbridge to form a crew and prepare for operations. He would team up with a fellow Australian, Sgt Bob Rennick (second pilot), two RAF airmen, P-O Tom J. L. Lee (O), and Sgt George Graves (WO/AG), and a Canadian, F-O Alan Kingsley (AG).

In a letter to his good friend and Narromine classmate Tom Campbell in late April 1943, Arthur described an incident at the OTU. A mutual friend, Austin (Aussie) Richards had been killed in a training accident that Arthur appears to have witnessed. The letter was nevertheless upbeat, and Arthur told Tom that when he got to heavy bombers he would call his aircraft the ‘Goondiwindi Boomerang’.
In June 1943, the German navy made a concerted effort to sail U-boats from French ports. The RAF had to significantly increase the number of maritime reconnaissance patrols. To increase coverage, crews under training were tasked with carrying out reconnaissance over the English Channel approaches, with their aircraft fully armed and carrying depth charges.

On 14 June 1943, Arthur was hunting submarines over the Bay of Biscay. He was flying an Armstrong Whitley light bomber. The Whitley had gone into service in 1937, but was already outdated by the beginning of the war. As a result, by 1943, it had been withdrawn from operational service and relegated to roles such as training, troop transport and glider towing.

The men had already conducted seven Coastal Command training flights without seeing anything of interest. On this flight, things were different and early into their patrol they spotted two German submarines on the surface. After shadowing the U-boats for two hours, the crew was given permission to attack. Around 16.45, they commenced their descent. They were immediately fired upon by both submarines and the Whitley was hit in the port fuel tank. Arthur persevered with his attack. Tom Lee later recounted:

It seemed just moments before we had reached our targets at about 50 feet. Buzz pulled the nose of the aircraft up as he let go with the D/Cs and simultaneously I heard Alan let go with his four guns. Jumping into the astrodome and looking aft over the tailplane, I observed the water ‘on the boil’ and one U-boat in a vertical position, sliding stern-first beneath the waves. The other boat had already disappeared. We were not sure whether we had sunk it or not but we certainly felt we accounted for one of them. We were jubilant. We had sunk a U-boat and we were all in one piece.

They would later find out that they had sunk U-564, a veteran boat with thirty-three Allied ships to its credit.

The Whitley was severely damaged. With the hydraulic system failing and leaking fuel, it struggled on towards the English coast sending out distress calls. For the next two hours, the crew worked frantically to lighten the aircraft – ditching guns, ammunition and anything portable. At 19.20, the starboard engine failed. Finally, at 20.00, George Graves sent out a last SOS and Arthur had to ditch the aircraft. It was here that his obvious skill as a pilot was demonstrated. Not only was he able to safely alight the aircraft on the sea, but all of the crew managed to evacuate into their dinghy, which had been damaged during the attack. They had lost the dinghy pack, containing food and some water, but they still had twelve one-pint tins of water.

The crew had carried a homing pigeon on these trips and had managed to bring the cage on to the dinghy. They attached a message to the bird’s leg and attempted to launch it in the direction of base. After several attempts to get the bird to leave the dinghy, it finally disappeared in the right direction. Unfortunately, the pigeon did not make it back to base.

Arthur and his crew spent the next two days and three nights drifting on the Bay of Biscay. On the evening of the third day, they were rescued by the crew of a French fishing boat. The crew could not help them get back to the United Kingdom by boat or put them in contact with the Resistance; the Germans expected them to be back in their port by a certain time. Any failure of the crew to return on time would result in serious consequences for themselves and their families. The fishing boat returned to Morgat, a small fishing village south of Brest, and Arthur and his crew were captured by the Germans.

As a result of Arthur’s successful ditching of the aircraft and their survival in the raft, Arthur and his crew were made life members of the Goldfish Club. The club is an association of people who have parachuted from an aircraft into the water, or whose aircraft crashed in the water, and whose lives were saved by a life jacket, inflatable dinghy or similar device. The club badge is a white-winged goldfish flying over two symbolic blue waves. Arthur was the only member of the Narromine 50 to become a member of the Goldfish Club.

After two days in hospital in Brest, the crew were sent to Paris by train and then on to Frankfurt for interrogation. This was followed by eight days in solitary confinement, after which the NCOs, including Arthur, were sent to a non-commissioned officer’ camp, Stalag Luft VI in Heydekrug (now Šilutė in Lithuania), East Prussia, and the two officers to the officers’ camp, Stalag Luft III at Sagan (now Żagań), Poland

Arthur related many stories of his time as a POW. He talked of the efficient escape committee, and the several escape attempts that were made while he was at Stalag Luft VI. He also spoke of the boredom, and the theatre and the sport the men played to keep fit. He often told his grandchildren that he played rugby for Australia, as there were many matches between the English and Australian and other Empire countries during this time.

In August 1943, while at Stalag Luft VI, Arthur was advised that he had been awarded the Distinguished Flying Medal for his role in sinking U-564. On 25 March 1944, he was promoted to the rank of warrant officer. The citation for Arthur’s DFM stated:

Flight Sergeant Benson captained an aircraft engaged on an anti-submarine patrol. During the flight two U-Boats were observed. After shadowing them for a short time, Flight Sergeant Benson executed a most determined attack on the vessels in the face of heavy anti-aircraft fire, his skill and daring are worthy of the highest praise.

On 6 June 1944, Arthur and his fellow POWs were moved to a camp near Thorn, Poland. After about three months there, they were move to Stalag 357 in Fallingbostel, Germany.

At Stalag 357, in Arthur’s own words:

[t]he need for firewood became so urgent on one occasion when we were not able to go out into the forest that Trevor Scales decided that we would knock off some posts from the inner surround holding up the strands of barbed wire. Ten wires were attached to each post and had to be knocked off by detaching the staples that held them on. For the purpose I had managed to find a length of steel rod about half a metre in length
At this time the snow had thawed somewhat and we were able to walk around the inner surround for exercise. As we walked around we would have to keep an eye on the guards in the towers and those patrolling the outer fence. First we would test a post by pushing it. If it was loose in the ground we would then hit the wires and break the staples away. At night just before lights out, when it was dark we would go out and wait our chance when the searchlights were off, leave our hiding place behind the huts, make a swift dash to a loose post and whip it out of the ground, and dart back behind the huts again. Then it was a matter of dodging the guards and making it back to our hut without being seen.
It worked well for us for a long time, and eventually the absence of posts in the fence must have became [sic] obvious to the guards. All the time we were working closer to the guard boxes in the corners of the lager. On our last venture we had to hide behind a hut near the guard box, and as the searchlight went off made a dash for a post.

It was tighter in the ground than we thought it would be and took a lot of pulling out. However, we succeeded and with the post on our shoulders made a dash to [the] safety of the hut. I was in front and Scales was sliding about a bit in the frost and ice. Just as [we] rounded the corner of the hut, the searchlight came on and we were caught in the beam. I did a smart turn to the left and Trevor skated out in a large circle, but still hung on to the post. We did some quick dodging about amongst the huts before we made it back to our own hut. We hurled the post through an open window and dived in after it. All was not lost but we gave away knocking off the posts after that.

On 12 April 1945, the air force prisoners were told to be ready to march out of camp in two hours’ time – destination unknown. It was obvious that the Allies were advancing. The first two nights, they camped in the forest and scrounged food from the locals. During the march towards Elbe River, a Spitfire flew low overhead to attack a target nearby. Arthur Benson, Trevor Scales and a young American lad by the Christian name of Lloyd decided it was as dangerous to be on the march as it was to escape. They were in danger of being strafed by the Allies.

Each morning, a ration truck would arrive and the guards would be distracted. Arthur, Trevor and Lloyd used this opportunity to make their escape by running into the thick forest. They had noticed the previous day that they had passed a camp of foreign slave workers. They went back there to ask for help. The prisoners were reluctant to help, but finally a group of Russians gave them coats and hats as well as some food.

Trevor spoke some German and was able to ascertain that by following the railway track they would arrive at Soltau, fifty kilometres away. They were stopped five times by German soldiers over the next couple of days, but Trevor managed to convince them that they were civilian ‘arbiters’ being sent to Soltau to work. Finally, their luck ran out and they were captured by a German soldier who did not believe they were Russian.

They were taken to Soltau and put into the basement of a military barracks. An attack on the town started soon afterwards, and the following morning British tanks arrived. In Arthur’s words:

Suddenly it was all over. German soldiers came into the barracks and threw their firearms into a room. They were ready to surrender. It was strange really, for they were no longer enemies, and we got into conversation with them. They wanted to know what it was like being a POW, and what they should take with them into a prison camp, they were just as apprehensive as we had been when re-captured a few hours before. Just frightened young men.

After receiving food from the British troops, the three men were told to get a car and follow the White Star Line, a road cleared of debris and clearly marked by large white painted stars, which led to an aerodrome. From there, they flew to Brussels and then on to the United Kingdom, arriving on 21 April 1945. Arthur had been a POW for one year and ten months. On 26 June 1945, Arthur was debriefed on his capture and the conditions he had endured as a POW. Among other things, Arthur, as ever forthright, stated, ‘If the Air Sea Rescue had their fingers out we would not have been Prisoners of War.’

This was probably a fair comment. They had been sending out position reports right up to the ditching of the plane, which occurred only 110 kilometres from Land’s End, Cornwall. When interviewed in 2014, Arthur stated that he had known that some of his course mates had been killed, but was astounded to find out that eighteen of the fifty had died on service. When reminded of his statement about the air-sea rescue issue in 1945, he mused and then said quietly, ‘They may have actually saved my life.’

Arthur also related that most of the guards were just guys doing their job and that they had treated them very fairly. One such guard was Eugen Ebersberger. For a number of years after the war, Arthur used to send a Christmas food parcel to Eugen and his family as, ‘I knew they were doing it rough for food’. In 2014, one of his prized possessions was a photo of Eugen’s three children, Robert, Liesecotte and Marita, which Eugen had sent him in 1951. It was simply inscribed ‘with gratitude’.

After the war, Arthur abandoned his dream of flying commercially and returned to the family property in Copeland. He married Audette Shewan in 1951. He managed stations in Dimby Downs, to the west of Quirindi, NSW, and, in 1953, in Boongargil, near Toobeah, Qld. In 1958, Arthur and Audette moved to the Crookwell district, taking up a soldier settlement block in Bindi that he named ‘Quo Vadis’. He ran his property for many years and eventually retired into Crookwell town.

Audette passed away in 2011. Arthur continued to live in Crookwell until moving into a local nursing home where he passed away on the 9th of September 2017. In April 2017 he attended the launch of a book at the AWM, High in the Sunlit Silence, about his elementary Flying Training Course at RAAF Narromine. This biography is an extract from the book and is submitted by the author, Commander Tony Vine, RANR.