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The story of Robert Taylor and the Hodson Crew
On the evening of 27 September 1943, several hundred planes take off from Lakenheath airbase in eastern England towards Germany with the aim of bombing Hanover. It is the third major bombing raid on the city in two months. The eight-man crew of the Stirling EF118, including 21-year-old pilot Maurice Hodson, are among the bombers.
In addition to Hodson, the following are on board: Flight Engineer Jack Taylor (19), Navigator Brian Higginson (22), Bomb Aimer Robert Taylor (21), Wireless Operator Dugald Wood (23), Mid Upper Air Gunner John Quar (21), Rear Air Gunner Bill Boyden (33) and 2nd Pilot Leonard Clay (26), who has been assigned to the crew on that evening.
This is not the crew’s first mission together. They have already survived a dozen enemy flights together in just a few months, and a deep friendship has developed between these soldiers, who come from different regions of England, Scotland and New Zealand, of the kind that can perhaps only grow from surviving mortal danger together.
21-year-old Robert Taylor is a bank employee from a small town near Hull, close to the east coast of England. He volunteered for the Royal Air Force two and a half years ago. He is the crew’s ‘bomb-aimer’, which means that during the mission he sits at the front of the huge, four-engined Stirling aircraft to navigate and open the bomb bays when the target is reached.
When the planes reach Hanover shortly after 11 p.m. and the bombing begins, the EF118 is suddenly caught by anti-aircraft searchlights and bathed in glaring light. Pilot Maurice Hodson tries in vain to escape the searchlights and then the German fighter planes that soon appear, using daring manoeuvres.
At an altitude of five kilometres, the Stirling is hit hard, describes a wide downward curve while on fire and finally goes out of control, then one of the fuel tanks in the wings detonates in a huge explosion. Maurice Hodson probably dies in the explosion, while the other crew members desperately try to escape from the aircraft in these final moments.
But only Robert Taylor manages to jump out of the burning bomber about three seconds before impact.
His friends crash with their plane into a field. They die that night just a few hundred metres from the memorial to the fallen, in a potato field behind the “Vier Akazien” (a striking group of four trees).
The next day, the seven bodies are buried in the Ramlinger cemetery. The birch crosses marking their graves stand at the north-east corner, just thirty metres from the memorial. At the time, in 1943, this memorial commemorates the fallen of the First World War who came from the village – and will be extended a decade later to also commemorate the dead of the Second World War.
(The world war memorial is outside the sketch, above the main path).
The fate of this war took the soldiers, whose names have been inscribed on the plaques to the right and left of the memorial since 1955, from Ramlingen to foreign lands, where they lost their lives: In France, in the Ukraine, in Russia; often it is not even known when or where they died. And so the fate of the soldiers from Ramlingen is to a certain extent mirrored in the deaths of the British airmen, for they too left their homes to fight in foreign lands and died there. But in their case, this foreign land is the village of Ramlingen. And so, on this night in the autumn of 1943, the inhabitants are suddenly confronted with death and the horrors of war.
Robert Taylor is the only one to survive the crash. He is injured and is taken to hospital by an ambulance that very night. As a prisoner of war, first in a Stalag in Poland and later near Walsrode, he survives the war and finally returns to England in the summer of 1945. He resumes his work at the bank, starts a family and only dies half a century later at the age of 71.
Shortly after his return home, he writes to the parents and families of his fallen comrades and tells them of their fate. He also sends them a mourning card with a poem he wrote himself in memory of his friends:
Across the yawning gulf of years
I leave them far behind
But with the strength of friendships chain
They’ll never fade from mind.
And though their graves no cross doth see,
Nor flowers to mark their end
A little part of me died then
They’re not alone, my friends
Neither he nor the families of the dead soldiers know where they are buried or whether they are buried at all. This concern is also expressed in Robert’s poem when he writes that there may be no cross marking the gravesites and no flowers growing on their graves.
It is not until more than a year later that news comes of the exact location of the seven men’s graves. John Wood, the brother of a crew member, travels to Ramlingen in autumn 1946 to find the grave of his brother Dugald and those of his comrades. A woman in the village speaks some English and eventually leads him to the cemetery.
John takes a photograph to send to his parents. He is relieved to see that there are crosses on the graves – and he is also a little surprised because there are freshly planted flowers.
A woman from Ehlershausen apparently looks after the gravesites, keeps them tidy and regularly plants new flowers. Dugald’s brother investigates further – and eventually discovers the reason for this: the woman belongs to the family in whose neighbourhood a British airman parachuted into a tree on the night of 27 September 1943 and finally crashed to the ground.
Robert Taylor was not killed that night, as happened all too often in many similar cases. He was not immediately reported to the local authorities and held for as long as he was. Instead, this woman and her brother took him into their home and looked after him on a night when bombs fell on Hanover, a night dominated by war, violence and death.
A strong sign that courage and humanity are possible even in such a situation.
(Text: Sven Voigt)
The memorial plates
