A particularly fine Air Gunner’s immediate D.F.M. group of five awarded to Flight Lieutenant J. J. Mullineaux, Royal Air Force, one of the very first to be so decorated in the 1939-45 War, for his part in bringing down two enemy fighters as “Tail-End-Charlie” in Wellington “R for Robert” in a daylight attack on Wilhelmshaven in December 1939: having then claimed two further “kills” in a sortie in January 1940, he was taken P.O.W. following a raid on Nuremburg in August 1942 - and beaten-up by the Gestapo after a failed escape attempt: his old aircraft “R for Robert” fared little better, coming to grief in Loch Ness in early 1940, but was recovered from the depths in 1985 and is today on display at the Brooklands Museum

Distinguished Flying Medal, G.VI.R. (547644 A.C. 1 J. J. Mullineaux, R.A.F.), correctly impressed naming for an early wartime issue; 1939-45 Star; Air Crew Europe Star; Defence and War Medals, the first with repair to suspension, otherwise generally good very fine (5) £3500-4000

D.F.M. London Gazette 16 January 1940. The original recommendation states:

‘In spite of heavy enemy anti-aircraft fire and repeated enemy aircraft attacks, this airman, as Rear-Gunner in a Wellington aircraft, in a formation carrying out an operation against the Naval Base at Wilhelmshaven on 18 December 1939, showed great courage and coolness and succeeded in destroying a twin-engine enemy fighter (Me. 110), which was seen to go down in flames, and one other Me. 110 was destroyed in conjunction with his under-turret Gunner.’

Covering remarks of the A.O.C.:

‘This is the second occasion in which the above-mentioned Air Gunner has been instrumental in destroying enemy aircraft. On both occasions he has shown exemplary coolness and courage, and has maintained a well-controlled and accurate fire. On the first occasion his support fire against an enemy aircraft attacking another member of his formation largely contributed to its destruction.’

James John Mullineaux, a native of Erdington, Birmingham, was born in May 1918 and, after ‘a third try at factory life convinced him that he was not cut out for that kind of life’, joined the Royal Air Force in 1937. An A.C. 1 by the outbreak of hostilities, he volunteered for duties as an Air Gunner, and was posted to No. 149 Squadron, a Wellington unit operating out of Mildenhall, Suffolk.

The unit’s first operational sortie of the War was carried out on 3 September 1939, when three of its Wellingtons carried out an armed reconnaissance of the North Sea, while on the following day its first bombing mission was flown against enemy warships at Brunsbuttel - and Mullineaux flew in Squadron Leader P. I. Harris’ aircraft on the latter occasion, although an alternative target near Tonning was attacked. Indeed Mullineaux went on to complete numerous sorties before ending his first operational tour in June 1940, one of the most memorable of which was the above cited daylight attack on enemy shipping at Wilhelmshaven on 18 December 1939: it was to prove a very costly affair, the Wellingtons of 9, 37 and 149 Squadrons running into no less than four crack Luftwaffe fighter squadrons - of the enemy pilots who took part in the action, eight later won the Knight’s Cross, four added Oakleaves, three Swords and two Diamonds.

Fortunately for posterity’s sake, Mullineaux’s own account of this epic sortie was published in Robin Holmes’ history of “R for Robert”, One of Our Aircraft:

‘About five minutes flying time from the harbour we encountered heavy, accurate flak which soon forced the formation to open up. In we went straight and level for about ten minutes, the flak getting heavier and more accurate. I could feel bursts and very soon the whole sky seemed full of black puffs. I was sure one would find its mark and blow us clean out of the air. Luck was with us, we did not get hit and very soon altered course and headed out to sea on a reciprocal course. This was our bombing run. It was during this run that I first saw little black specks on the horizon and within seconds, as it were, I recognized them as Me. 109s and Me. 110s. Our bombing run completed, the fighters came in to attack and very soon the whole sky seemed full of them. I estimated their strength to be about 100. I called frantically “Fighters!” Immediately Austin took up position in the mid under turret and Pilot Officer Innes [the 2nd Pilot] went to the astrodome. We had not long to wait before the first fighter came in to attack our aircraft. It was an Me. 110. Innes was first to see it. In he came and I could see his machine-guns blazing away. I opened fire at 300 yards and continued to fire until he broke away at 20 yards. No sooner had he broken than another attack took place and this continued throughout the engagement. During the short spells I looked around the sky and could see our bombers going down in flames. This had a great effect on me as I had been pumping bullets into the attacking aircraft and did not seem to get any results. Another fighter came up and no sooner had it attacked and I opened up than it seemed to blow up. My bullets had found their mark. The captain shouted “Good show, Mullineaux.” That was all I needed. I got stuck in with added zest and it was not long before the second went down. He came dead astern. I opened up at 400 yards. The Mid-Under Gunner was also firing at him and between us we blew the aircraft out of the air. Other attacks came again and again. I could hear the Front Gunner firing over the inter-com and he too shot one down. But after a while my ammunition ran out. I called frantically to the captain for more. He sent the 2nd Pilot down but in his excitement he opened the door of my turret and simply threw it at me. The result was that I had no assistance to load both guns. I did however manage to get one gun going after a while and throughout the rest of the engagement I kept it going and with the aid of the Mid-Under Gunner kept most of the fighters from firing accurately at us, from astern ... ’

Not mentioned by Mullineaux is the fact he and his crew witnessed Wellington N. 2961 ditching in the sea on the way home, or that their dinghy became entangled in the tail-plane when it was released to assist the downed airmen - an emergency landing thus ensued at Coltishall. He was awarded an immediate D.F.M., the relevant recommendation also noting that he had already contributed to the destruction of another enemy aircraft. A day or two following the 18 December raid, Air Chief Marshal Sir Edgar Ludlow-Hewitt, the C.-in-C. Bomber Command, arrived at Mildenhall to hear the full story, one eye witness recalling:

‘This was quite an occasion. Our A.O.C., Baldwin, the Station Commander, Franky Coleman, Kellett, and others all crowded into Kellett’s office while Ludlow-Hewitt, surrounded by a galaxy of Staff Officers, asked questions. Star turn, Aircraftsman First Class, Jimmy Mullineaux, was brought in so that the C.-in-C., Ludlow-Hewitt, could talk to this hero, which indeed he was (I was very proud of him), but after a time it was all too much for him; the eminent “Brass Hats”, the questioning and the Braid so affected him that my highly strung, modest, little Jimmy suddenly said, full of courtesy and respect to the last, “May I faint please,” which he promptly did, into the arms of Sandy Innes, who carried him out. He was but an A.C. 1 and very young, one of the first D.F.Ms of the War’ (One of Our Aircraft refers).

On 2 January 1940, Mullineaux claimed another brace of enemy aircraft - ‘one certain and one probable’ - when his Wellington was attacked by a formation of Me. 110s during a reconnaissance patrol. Nonetheless, his pilot was compelled to make ‘his escape by diving at full throttle to sea-level’: the two remaining Wellingtons in their formation were less fortunate, both being shot down.

Mullineaux remained operational with No. 149 until the end of June 1940, regularly flying in the crew of Squadron Leader Harris, and, on a strike against Aalborg aerodrome on the night of 20-21 April, in the company of his C.O., Wing Commander R. Kellett, D.F.C., A.F.C., who was aboard for the ride - a combination of heavy anti-aircraft fire and the brightness of the searchlights prevented them from finding their exact target. And with the advent of the invasion of the Low Countries in May, No. 149 was detailed to attack Waalhaven aerodrome, in addition to mounting a strike against the bridges on the Meuse, when Mullineaux’s ‘aircraft [was] damaged by enemy action’. Further attacks on enemy troop movements ensued in June, but tragedy struck on the final sortie of his first operational tour, on the 11th, when a member of groundcrew was instantly killed by one of his Wellington’s propellers as it returned to dispersal after a sortie against road communications at Soissans.

Posted to a conversion unit at Waterbeach at the end of the same month, Mullineaux was “rested” until being commissioned as a Pilot Officer, soon after which he returned to an operational footing with No. 101 Squadron, another Wellington unit, based at Bourn in Cambridgeshire, in July 1942. Thus ensued no less than four sorties to Duisberg, in addition to strikes against Bremen, Dusseldorf, Frankfurt, Hamburg, Kassel, Saarbrucken and Wilhelmshaven.

But on the night of 28-29 August 1942, when detailed to attack Nuremburg, his Wellington developed mechanical failure and his pilot was compelled to make a crash-landing 40 kilometres N.W. of Mannheim - the crew scrambled clear as the aircraft was enveloped in flames. In his subsequent P.O.W’s “debrief”, Mullineaux stated that he was slightly wounded on the same occasion, and was captured at Landotan on 3 September 1942, thereby suggesting that he managed to evade for a few days.

Having then been briefly detained in Frankfurt, he was incarcerated in Stalag 344 at Lamsdorf until August 1944, when he was transferred to Stalag Luft III at Sagan, scene of the “Great Escape”. He also stated that on one occasion he exchanged identities with an Army Private and escaped from a working party on a railway, but was recaptured at Stettin by a Dock Policeman. Possibly this was the occasion that he was on the run for three months, passing himself off as a Walloon. If so, he ultimately fell foul of the Gestapo, ‘who beat him so severely that finally he shouted in German, “Stop it. I’m a British officer.” Instantly the Gestapo interrogators snapped to attention and saluted him’ (Robin Holmes’ history, One of Our Aircraft, refers).

Mullineaux, who had been advanced to Flight Lieutenant in August 1944, was finally liberated at Lubeck in May 1945, but ‘suffered a series of nervous breakdowns resulting from the treatment he had received as a P.O.W.’; sold with an original wartime newspaper cutting reporting the award of his D.F.M., together with a copy of Robin Holmes’ history, One of Our Aircraft.

N.B.
“R for Robert” was recovered from the depths of Loch Ness in September 1985, where she had lain since being ditched after engine failure on a training flight on New Year’s Eve 1940, and today she is displayed at Brooklands Museum, Surrey - the only original Wellington airframe in existence.