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Tuck's Luck!

Robert Stanford Tuck shot down a total of 30 officially credited enemy fighters before his luck finally run out in January 1942. From the early days of 1939 to 1942 he had become one of the living legends of the Royal Air Force, leading 92 Squadron and 257 Squadron during the Battle of Britain with often fantastic results and supernatural luck.

In 1935 Tuck was a young student trying to learn to fly and he was failing by the minute. Tuck, a strikingly handsome young man, born in 1916, saw an add in the newspaper about the RAF one day and decided to try it out. So there he was, sitting in an Avro Tutor biplane trying to learn to be fighter pilot.

He was about to be dumped off the programme, simply because he seemed not to learn even the basic ideas of flying. October 1935 was quite frankly his last chance to prove himself as a pilot in the RAF. And Tuck knew it himself.

But suddenly on that day in October it all came to him. Flying an aeroplane was not about calculating and predicting every move the plane made. It was not about trying to work out the pure mathematics of a turn or a roll in his head before doing them, it was about instinct and handling the plane as apart of himself. When he realized this, right there on his last chance to be apart of the RAF, it was all very easy. Robert Stanford Tuck was without doubt a natural pilot. With just a bit of bad luck and a not so understanding flight instructor, Tuck would have been on his way home a long time ago. The same day he went solo for the first time and did all exceptionally well.

By August of 36, Tuck had earned his wings and got his posting to 62 Squadron, flying Gloster Gladiators. Two years later it might have been all over when 3 Gladiators flown by Tuck, Gaskell and Hope-Boyd ran into turbulence. Gaskell’s plane struck the turbulence and then caught Hope-Boyd’s slipstream. Gaskell then crashed into Tuck’s plane, who was flying as number three. Gaskell died in the crash while Tuck managed by shear luck to get out of the plane and into his chute. He badly injured his cheek and from this day he would be known for his long scar on his right cheek. Tuck knew that skill did not save him that day, but pure luck and he discovered that he had become quite the cheeky pilot and had to be careful in the future. His nerve remained steady, his judgment good and his enthusiasm high, but he no longer took needless risks in flying.

Flying was Tuck’s life. His life was up in the air, in the cockpit of whatever plane he was flying and he did not care for much else. He was quite the beer drinker and could drink an awful lot of pints during a night out with his flying buddies, but flying was above all his main interest. In these early years women did not really appeal to him. He was not a monk by all means, he simply did not have the time or the energy of the company of women.

By May 1940 Tuck was transferred to 92 Squadron, flying Spitfires out of Hornchurch. Tuck scored his first victory in those dark days of spring 1940 when the British army seemed beaten and lost at the beaches of Dunkirk. A Me-110 fell to Tuck’s 8 Browning machine guns and he saw it spiral down and slam into a field near St. Omer, France. Just minutes earlier, Tuck had seen Pat Learmond’s Spitfire go down in a ball of fire. 92 squadron went up 2 more times that particular day and by the last sortie, Tuck had scored 3 victories, but not without a dose of “Tuck’s luck”.

Tuck circled the wrecked Me-110 as the German pilot climbed out of the cockpit. He slid open his canopy and waved at the downed German pilot. The German seemed to be waving back, but suddenly a large crack was heard and his canopy suddenly had a hole in it, just inches from Tuck’s face! The German wasn’t waving, he was holding a Mausser machine gun and firing at him!

Angered, Tuck pushed the stick of his Spitfire downwards, swung it around, came in low and pressed the firing button. The German became engulfed in smoke, and lethal Spitfire machine gun fire and that was the end of him.

Within the next couple of days, 92 Squadron lost their CO, Roger Bushell and Tuck was handed the squadron shortly thereafter.

The first thing he did was to order his pilots to make more space between them. That way they could pay more attention to enemy fighters and not the stupidity of perfect formation flying in a combat zone. Tuck shot down 2 Dornier bombers that day. Ignoring several hits on his Spitfire, Tuck didn’t stop attacking one of the bombers before it hopelessly fell down from the sky. When taking over the squadron, Tuck had his friend Brian Kingcome posted to 92 squadron, later one of the best pilots during the Battle of Britain.

During the last days of May 1940 Tuck got the chance to fly a Me109 which they had rebuilt from its crashed landing in Britain. Tuck found out that the Me109 was a wonderful little plane, it was slightly faster than the Spit, but lacked the Spits amazing manoeuvrability. By taking part in this testing, Tuck could put himself inside the Me109 when fighting them, knowing its weak and strong points, which obviously must have helped him a great deal later on.

At a ceremony at Hornchurch on June 28, 1940, Tuck was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC) by King George VI for his "initiative" and "personal example" over Dunkirk.
While 92 Squadron being drawn back from the front line and to Wales during July and August 1940 something remarkable happened. Tuck was chasing a lone German bomber and shot it down. Later he found out that the German plane had crashed close to a military camp, killing one soldier there. This soldier was, as amazing as it sounds, his sisters husband John Spark. This was by all means, Tuck's Luck in reverse.

While visiting friends at Northolt in August, he came right in the middle a major bombing raid. He refused to take cover and took off in a Spitfire, catching up with 2 Ju88 bombers.

Far below him the two 88's passed him, Tuck put his Spit in a shallow dive going head on with the bombers. Tuck fired his guns on the port side enemy bomber. He struck the fuselage of the plane so hard to seemed to bend backwards, like the body of a leaping fish. Then one of the wings tipped and the bomber went into the ocean in a gigantic explosion. He pulled sharply up getting pressed violently down in his side. He half rolled his Spitfire on top and dived down after the second bomber. He passed it overhead, turned his Spitfire round and went in for another head-on attack. Tuck got an instant feeling that this was different than the others and very dangerous. Ignoring his feelings, he continued straight towards the bomber, trying to avoid the bullets coming in from the German front gunner. He pulled off just fractions before impact to the German bomber. He had been hit several times and Tuck's engine gave up. He knew it wouldn’t make it and got out, pulling the ripcord as fast as possible. The doomed German bomber continued towards France probably crashing down in the channel.

During September of 1940, Tuck was transferred to 257 squadron flying Hurricanes. 257 squadron was quite possibly the only squadron in the RAF at that time that had lost more fighters than they had shot down. It was a dismal situation when Tuck took over the squadron. However with only a couple of days rest and practice, Tuck managed to turn this squadron around. When meeting the 257 pilots for the first time, always the beer loving young man, Tuck strolled right to the bar, downed half a pint of beer in one gigantic gulp and started talking to his new pilots.

On September 15, Tuck lead 257 squadron and two other Hurricane squadrons towards the armada of German planes coming in over England. Not having time to gain altitude or a tactical advantage, Tuck took his squadrons in for an attack, coming from below the Germans. Ignoring the attacking Me109's coming in from the sun they attacked the bombers. While attacking a He111 slightly out of formation, Tuck was jumped by a Me109. He sent his wingman after the attacking Me109 and continued shooting at the He111.

This day would later in history be known as "Battle of Britain day".

Tuck was awarded a bar to his DFC for his bravery during those daring attacks on the German formations. Surprised by this honour, he replied only "I've just been bloody lucky, that’s all".

He was later awarded the Distinguished Service Order (DSO), a decoration second only to the Victoria Cross. The award was for leading 257 Squadron with "great success. Tuck had transformed 257 squadron from zeroes to heroes in just a couple of weeks and just in time for the very crucial September battles during the Battle of Britain.

I mid March of 1941 275 squadron started to operate also at night attacking the German bomber raids. A second bar to his DFC was awarded later the same month, for "conspicuous gallantry and initiative in searching for and attacking enemy raiders, often in adverse weather conditions."

Tuck was flying alone over the east coast of England when he was jumped by 3 Me109's. The first Me109 fired at Tuck and and passed him so he suddenly had the 109 straight in front of him. Ignoring the other two 109's he fired at the 109 in front him. Deadly accurate, the first 109 hopelessly fell into the sea below. He then banked sharply and found another 109. Letting it pass beneath him first he dived after him. After a quick burst, the second 109 went down. He had gotten very low by now and pulled straight up trying to gain height before the last 109 would attack. Too late. The 109 hit his Hurricane several times shooting the throttle out of his hand, his canopy got shot to bits and pieces along with the gunsight of the doomed Hurricane. Tuck did not jump out, but turned his Hurricane around, firing with everything he had against the last 109. He managed to damage it severely before he had to jump out himself. He was later picked up from the sea and treated for minor injuries.

In mid July 1941 Tuck was relieved as a wing commander for 257, certainly earning all the praise he got from both his pilots and the ground crew. They had all just wonderful things to say about this extraordinary man at only 25 years of age.

Tuck was then given orders to take command of the Duxford wing, flying Airacobras, Spitfires and Typhoons. Besides his beloved Spitfire, Tuck took a liking to the Typhoon.

Another incident of Tuck's Luck happened when he and some pilots were partying in a pub not far from Norwich. Being with his girlfriend, Joyce, Tuck suddenly got a feeling he had to get out of the pub in a hurry. He told his pilot friends he wanted to go into Norwich to hit the pubs there. They declined to his offer because they would never be able to make it there before closing time. Tuck knew this but still wanted to go. Driving back from the pub Joyce confronted him with his and Tuck told her that he felt he had to leave in a hurry and didn’t really want to go to Norwich after all. The next day he was given the news that a lone German bomber had dropped its cargo straight on the pub killing most of the people inside. Another close shave. Tuck's Luck once more.

The Germans finally nailed Tuck in January of 1942. Doing a low “Rhubarb” sweep over France, he and his wingman got into massive flak from both sides of a shallow valley when trying to hit a distillery and some trains. Tuck managed to crash land his Spitfire right in front of a squad of German soldiers standing beside a cannon. Tuck's Luck was with him once more when one of his last shots from the Spitfire had entered the German cannon, peeling it like a banana. Seeing this, the Germans couldn’t stop laughing, which probably saved Tuck's life. Even when picking up the dead German soldiers Tuck had just shoot up with his Spitfire, they didn’t stop laughing.

Tuck was transferred to Stallag Luft 3 where he met many of his old friends, including the legendary Douglas Bader and his old CO, Roger Bushell. Bushell was later shot by the Germans after over 70 pilots escaped thru a tunnel. Tuck was supposed to be apart of this escape plan but was transferred from the camp just days before it was put into action. Lucky once more. Only three pilots managed to escape to safety, two of these were Norwegians.

Tuck managed to escape in 1945 when the whole camp was moved due to the Russians coming a bit too close for the Germans liking. Tuck and a Polish captain managed to get to the Russian lines. While in a Polish city, Tuck's Luck came into action yet another time when Tuck was recognized by a friend of his brother. A one in a million chance of meeting someone like that in a Polish city in 1945! With the help of this man, they soon managed to get themselves back to safety and the green fields of England.

Robert Stanford Tuck settled in Kent with his wife Joyce after the war. He died in 1987.