![]() ![]() Group Captain Tom Gleave, station commander at RAF Manston, recalled: "Night intruding was in its infancy and Steve was the pioneer. However, as master of machine, night sky and foe, Stevens was sent over occupied enemy territory to seek out the enemy. By late summer, German night raids had all but stopped. In July, he got number 13, keeping the enemy silhouetted against the distant Northern Lights before the North Sea eventually claimed another bomber. Stevens continued to claim victories, and at the end of June 1941 sent a Junkers 88 into the North Sea as number 12. Stevens, racing to his Hurricane to get airborne, was told he couldn't take off because the runway lights weren't on.Įnraged, he shouted: "I don't need bloody lights. On another occasion, the airfield was bombed. One night, told the weather was too bad to fly, he took off anyway. Often, his canopy would be open for better visibility, but this sucked dangerous carbon monoxide exhaust fumes into the cockpit as temperatures plummeted to sub-zero. Simply flying a Hurricane at night was challenging, let alone finding and then engaging the enemy. Knowing this was where the Germans would be, he picked off raiders with consummate marksmanship. His score rising, Stevens developed dangerous tactics to track his quarry, deliberately flying into anti-aircraft barrages. Stevens painted a colourful dragon on to his Hurricane, an RAF ensign wrapped in its tail as it speared a swastika-bedecked eagle. The tips of the propeller blades were covered in blood." The oil tank was punctured and dented, and we found hair and bits of bone stuck to the leading edge of the port wing. His mechanic recalled: "How he landed in the dark I don't know. We told him: 'Bloody well go back there!'" "We asked him who the hell he was, where he came from, and in what? He told us from Wittering, in a Hurricane. Looking around, he demanded, 'Why aren't you lot airborne?' He was told in no uncertain words of one syllable, and a few expletives, what he could do. Pilot Officer Ivor Cosby recalled: "Suddenly, in strode a chap wearing a sheepskin jacket and flying boots. Landing at Gravesend to refuel, Stevens strode into the aircrew hut to find exhausted pilots lounging around doing nothing. Taking up another Hurricane later that night, he found further prey and put a Heinkel into the sea off Canvey Island. Stevens, momentarily blacking out from excessive G-forces in the dive from 30,000ft, over stressed his Hurricane to an extent it was immediately grounded. Over Essex, he came across a Dornier 17 bomber, sending it flaming into the ground. Here, on the night of January 15/16, 1941 - 80 years ago this week - he tasted victory for the first time. Nevertheless, in November 1940, Stevens was posted to 151 Squadron at RAF Wittering in Cambs as a night fighter pilot. But the 'system' demanded he stay the full course." ![]() He was an incredibly competent bad weather pilot, and we could have taught him to fly the Hurricane in a week. On to this scene burst 31-year-old Stevens - vastly more experienced than any of us instructors. His instructor recalled: "We were used to dealing with young and inexperienced pilots. Later, it was reported his wife and surviving child had been killed in the Blitz - a story Stevens did nothing to dispel even though, as we shall see, it was fanciful.īy late 1940, after relentlessly pestering the authorities, Stevens was finally posted to train as a fighter pilot. Stevens was devastated and the tragedy led to him becoming estranged from Mabel. In October 1940, a paraffin stove overturned causing a fire in which Frances died aged just 21-months. Meanwhile, Mabel and their children, twins John and Frances, were involved in a tragic domestic accident. He desperately wanted to get at the enemy though, at 31, his advanced years ruled him out as a frontline fighter or bomber pilot. Then, after war was declared in September 1939, he flew Army co-operation flights and a target aircraft training anti-aircraft gunners. Stevens soon enlisted in the RAF's volunteer reserve. Not only could he see in the fog and mist, he had the instincts of a homing pigeon." A colleague recalled: "Stevens' night sight was incredible. Qualifying as a pilot, he flew airliners from Croydon Airport where his ability to see in the dark stood him in good stead on night flights. By 1936, he was back in Britain, married to Mabel Hyde and learning to fly. By 1928, an adventurous spirit led him to go farming in Australia, but life there became dull so he enlisted in the Palestine Police Force, serving for some four years. ![]()
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