The riddle of the sands
What could be safer than the sandy beach at Greatstone-on-Sea on the Kent coast? Today, families enjoy the sea breezes and sandcastles, and the safe bathing in the shallow waters just beyond the dune and bungalows. But 66 years ago, the beach was a very different place, with lengths of barbed wire and tank-traps, and patrolling soldiers keeping their eyes fixed on the Channel horizon.
The war years took their toll on this now peaceful seaside scene, and for a long time after the conflict, the visitors and holidaymakers who began to return to this coast found themselves confronted with a stark reminder of the battles that had taken place – for out on the sands, like a beached whale or some enormous dead sea-bird of prehistory, lay the rusting, half-submerged hulk of a war machine. An American B24J Liberator bomber to be precise. Slowly sinking inch by inch, the plane had once been part of a vanguard force, striking at the very heart of Nazi Germany – yet how had it come to land on the Greatstone shore?
On the 20th June 1944, Lt. Charles Stevens of the United States Army Air Force was desperately trying to keep control of his plane. He and his crew had taken off from Metfield, Suffolk for a raid into Hitler’s now crumbling European empire. Like so many Allied bombing missions, the Lieutenant’s raid was fraught with danger, but not even an experienced airman could have predicted the sequence of events which followed the sortie. Suddenly, somewhere over enemy territory, a terrific blow thudded into the aircraft… To Charles Stevens’s horror, the nose section of the Liberator had taken a direct hit, and it became clear that the flight was heading for disaster.
However, the Lieutenant was able to keep some sort of control of the aircraft, and determined to return his men safely to the British coast, tried everything he could to keep them in the air. Probably not knowing exactly where he was, and certainly a long way from his original course, Charles Stevens saw a large expanse of sandy beach through the cracked glass of his damaged cockpit. The plane spluttered and descended – crashing into the shallow waters, just off the (then) small seaside hamlet of Greatstone-on-Sea.
Fortunately, the descent was witnessed by an RAF doctor, Squadron Leader D.D. Morrell, who waded out to the wreckage in an attempt to help the Americans. But despite Morrell’s best efforts, the incoming waves forced him back. Then, a local civil defence volunteer appeared – a Mr. J. Frost – who took control of the situation – encouraging the Squadron Leader to try again, despite the rush of the incoming tide. This he did, and D.D. Morrell managed to dive beneath the wreck – pulling one crew member to safety. However, four men lost their lives on that fateful day – Lt. Harold Meng (Navigator), Lt. William F. Weck (Bombardier), and Sergeants Thomas Fulbright and Bernard E. Peak (Gunners) – their names recorded today on a small war memorial by the beach car park.
Squadron Leader Morrell was honoured with an OBE for his outstanding bravery, and no doubt Mr. J. Frost received the grateful thanks of the airmen who survived. Today, the Liberator bomber lies buried beneath the sands – swallowed forever. Like the remains of a dinosaur, some future historian or archaeologist might rediscover its exact position. Until then, we should just be content to honour the memory of the men who so distinguished themselves on that June day in 1944.
Stuart Millson (May 2010)
The lonely Kent coast, near Greatstone.
England at war: A painting of bomb-damaged Lydd Church, just inland from Greatstone-on-Sea.