Elmes Jenny - M-Mother : Dambuster Flight Lieutenant John Hoppy Hopgood

There are many people who have helped me and encouraged me along the way in producing this book: one of my mainstays has been jumbo-jet pilot Andy Bailey, who has helped me unstintingly with technical aviation terms and RAF interpretations. Of course members of my extended family, in particular Annabel Young (Marnas daughter), James Hopgood (Olivers son), and my dear mother Betty Bell (Johns sister) have all been open to my using the family documents and happy to add any memories of their own. Others I wish to acknowledge include: my husband Graham Elmes, Josh Thorpe, John Villers, Keith Fleming, John Newth, Charles Foster, James Holland, Shere Fraser, RAF Scampton, The National Archives at Kew, and RAF Hendon.

M-Mother

Jenny Elmes

The night was so bright that it was possible to see the boys flying on each side quite clearly. On the right was John Hopgood in M-Mother , that grand Englishman whom we called Hoppy. He was one of the greatest guys in the world. He was devoted to his mother, and devoted to flying; used to go out with us a lot, get drunk used to go out a lot to Germany, do a wonderful job.

He had no nerves; he loved flying, which he looked upon rather as a highly skilful art, in which one can only become proficient after a lot of experience. He was one of the boys who completely refused to be given a rest, and had done about fifty raids with me in my last squadron.

Perfect at formation was Hoppy too. There he was, his great Lancaster only a few feet from mine, flying perfectly steady, never varying position.

Once when training for this raid we had gone down to Manston in Kent, and had shot up the field with wings inside tail planes, and even the fighter boys had to admit it was the best they had ever seen.

I should say Hoppy was probably the best pilot in the squadron.

Extracted from article in The Sunday Express on 3 December 1944, and reproduced in Enemy Coast Ahead by Wing Commander Guy Gibson, VC DSO DFC, who commanded 617 Squadron in the raid on the Ruhr Dams on the night of 16/17 May 1943.

Flt Lt John V. Hopgood DFC and Bar

It is a daunting task to name a child, and yet my parents did not have to toil over their decision and draw from a pool of a thousand names. In fact, it was quite the opposite, and neither my brothers, John Hopgood and Guy, nor I, Shere, could comprehend the significance of those names until much later in life. I remember in childhood hearing my parents say I was named after the beautiful village of Shere, which was a special place, especially for my father. He didnt talk much about his heroic wartime service, and for us children, we came to know that Daddy was a hero and he helped to stop the war in Europe. For us, he busted dams in Germany, his plane crashed and he then became a prisoner of war for a very long time. Tragically, my father died in a plane crash in 1962 and those memories of his heroic service died with him.

Fast forward fifty years, after a series of life events and what some may call an epiphany, I began a healing journey of getting to know my father through the lens of his wartime letters and experiences. As I opened each new chapter in this journey, I became very grateful for each new revelation. One of the more rewarding experiences was learning about John Hopgood, the man who saved my father on the night of 16/17 May 1943. On that fateful night prior to their departure from Scampton, the crew sensed they might not return, so much so that the navigator, Earnshaw, told my father that they were not coming home. Hopgoods M-Mother was hit by flak some twenty minutes before the dam was reached and yet he pressed on with a serious head wound and a fervent determination to get the job done. Much has been documented about the Dams Raid, but sadly not much has been written or said about the courage and gallantry of John Hopgood. He was made deputy leader of the attack on the Mhne Dam for a very good reason: Guy Gibson knew the character of this man and entrusted this responsibility fully upon him. Hopgood should have at least got a DSO for his courage and sacrifice, and I feel he should have got the Victoria Cross (VC) posthumously. I know that my father never forgot Hopgoods act of heroism and demonstrated this by naming his first son after him. My research brought me full circle and I have come to understand now why I was named after the village of Shere. It was in remembrance of the place where Hoppy grew up, but in my heart Shere is not just a village. It is a name of honour, where I will uphold John Vere Hopgoods memory for the rest of my life.

NB The log books of Shere Frasers father, John Fraser, bombardier, and Ken Earnshaw, navigator, both crew members of AJ-M, were stolen in 2003. Any help from the public in tracing them would be very much appreciated.

John Vere Hopgood died a hero on the night of 16/17 May 1943, a Dambuster, piloting a Lancaster Bomber (AVROM) over the Mhne Dam in one of the most iconic bombing missions of the Second World War. This book is drawn on previously unpublished family papers to show how a typical English public school boy and his family responded to the war, particularly through his letters to his mother, Grace, to whom, as Guy Gibson stated, John was devoted.

Johns mother, Grace, was Harold Hopgoods second wife. Harolds first wife, Beatrice Walker, had died leaving him with two children, Joan and Oliver Hopgood. Grace and Harold then went on to have three more children, Marna (born June 1920), John (born August 1921) and Elizabeth (Betty), my mother (born December 1923).

Johns mother, Grace, aged 45 years, plus a scrap of letter written by her in later life

Grace Fisons father, Lewis, was connected to the Fison seed and fertiliser family of Cambridge, but her mother, Jane Bukely De Vere Hunt, was descended from an Earl of Oxford through the Irish De Vere Hunt lineage. This gave Grace a somewhat exaggerated opinion of her social status, and she passed this on to Marna and John along with the De Vere name. There are some examples of this snobbery in Johns early letters, and it is a combination of all Johns traits, exemplary or otherwise, which made him the hero he became. It also made him the perfect material to be an officer and possibly Guy Gibsons closest friend: they shared the same background and attitudes and were both a product of their time.

You will see how John fitted in well with squadron life, partly due to, and partly despite of, the prejudices of his upbringing. John was a team player, and he loved the competitive camaraderie of his crew and squadron. His crews were cosmopolitan and with mixed backgrounds but they instantly became a close-nit group, necessarily totally reliant and trusting of each other in the extreme circumstances they were placed. The loss of some of those who shared the training and execution of Operation Chastise (as the Dams Raid was originally termed) on that fateful night of 16/17 May 1943 was like losing family members.

Without understating Johns undoubted heroism, this book is a warts and all account of how he metamorphosed from a young, somewhat over-sensitive boy, through his perfectionism and idealism as a teenager and his rebellious youth, to the selfless hero he became. In the twenty-one short years of his life, John was transformed from a gutless goodie to a daredevil Dambuster.