If there ever were a combat pilot cat-like in survival, it would be John Alwyn (Pee Wee) Phillips. But what made his successful wartime record of walking away from crashes so amazing? In each case he ensured his crew walked away safely with him.
His first “prang,” as he called it, occurred at the RAF No. 22 Operational Training Unit (OTU) in England, in 1943, while training in Wellington bombers with a Canadian crew of five on board. On the approach to land, Phillips couldn’t get the undercarriage down, so he got permission from the control tower to land wheels up on the aerodrome grass.
“Luckily, we got away with it scot-free,” Phillips said during an Imperial War Museum interview. “We just bent the propellers doing a belly landing.”
Two engines were gone. Only one instrument still worked. There was no way the Halifax could return to Britain.
A few months later, Phillips was crewed up for combat duty with a principally Canadian crew. While they learned to respect his flying ability, the RCAF airmen noted their pilot’s diminutive stature and nicknamed him “Pee Wee.” It stuck. Now, the bomber crew was training at an OTU in Yorkshire, England, where Flight Sgt. Phillips attempted another landing, this time in a four-engine Handley Page Halifax bomber, just as the wind direction changed. Committed to a landing, Pee Wee desperately tried to bring the 30-tonne bomber down while descending crab-like over the runway. The violent crosswind caught his wing, forced the bomber to nose over
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