Paul Hartley Raney
| Paul Hartley Raney | |
|---|---|
 Paul H. Raney, c.1914 |
|
| Born | 25 December 1892 Toronto, Ontario |
| Died | 21 August 1917 (aged 24) Killed in Action; Roeselare (Roulers), Belgium |
| Occupation | Fighter pilot |
| Parents | Hon. William Edgar Raney, KC Jessie Amelia Raney. |
2nd Lieutenant Paul Hartley Raney (1892–1917) was born in Toronto, Ontario, Canada on Christmas Day, December 25, 1892, the son of the Hon. William Edgar Raney, KC and Jessie Amelia Raney. He attended West Toronto Public School, St. Andrew's College from 1906 to 1908, and Oakwood Collegiate. He studied Applied Science from 1910 onwards, graduating with a degree in Civil Engineering at the University of Toronto in 1914. Raney enlisted in the Royal Flying Corps to fight in the First World War, training to become a fighter pilot. After a very short tour of duty, he was shot down and killed in action on August 21, 1917.
Contents |
[edit] Royal Flying Corps Service
In February 1917, Paul Raney enlisted in the Royal Flying Corps. Training at Camp Borden, Ontario, he crossed the Atlantic to England aboard the S.S. Megnatic in May. Raney attended final flight and combat training in England, earning his wings in mid-June. In early July, Raney arrived in France, at the reserve camp, or as it was called the "Pool Pilots Mess", which was where new recruits were stationed before "an opening" appeared at active Squadrons. Raney was posted to 66 Squadron of the Royal Flying Corps, then operating at Estreé Blanche in the Ypres area. Arriving in late-July, Raney began active duty - which, for his first few weeks, consisted of on-the-ground training.
At the time, 66 Squadron was equipped with the stable, easy to fly, yet underpowered Sopwith Pup. This aircraft, though an excellent trainer, was relatively outclassed by the mainstream German opponents that were then in the air. In June-August 1917, the Albatros D.III and Albatros D.V were the main fighters of the German airforce. Although nimble and maneuverable, the Pup was nowhere near as fast or powerful as its opponents, and could not hope to outpace or outclimb them. As well, the Pup was equipped with one synchronized Vickers machine gun, while the German planes featured two or more synchronized Spandau machine guns. Although other British Squadrons were equipped with the better fighters that were available, 66 Squadron would have to make do with its Pups until later in the year when they would be outfitted with the much more deadly Sopwith Camels.
Raney's short tour of duty, commencing late July 1917 (and lasting just over a month), consisted of unrelenting patrols over enemy territory. Most pilots flew one or more per day, early morning, afternoon or evening, at about one to two and hours a piece. Wings of two to ten fighters would take off, cross over to enemy territory, and carry out the Allied mandate of air superiority by "keeping the Germans on the defensive".
On July 28, Raney's friend from training in Canada, 2nd Lieutenant Patrick A. O'Brien, reported for duty with 66 Squadron. Raney and O'Brien were delighted at sharing the same Squadron, and the two became the best of friends. Raney, with O'Brien, had his first practice formation flight on August 12th. At dawn the next day (13 August) both of them flew in formation for their first practice flight over enemy lines, arriving back at the aerodrome around 8:40AM. As O'Brien noted, he was "taken over the lines to get a look at things". O'Brien would later fly his first combat patrol over enemy territory the same day, while Raney had aerial fighting practice.
On the 16th of August, Raney had his first offensive patrol. The next day (August 17) after Raney's second patrol, Patrick O'Brien did not return from his evening patrol over German lines, and was declared missing (O'Brien, after shooting down a D type Albatross scout, sustained a gunshot wound to his neck, subsequently losing consciousness. His plane spun down out of control, crashed, and O'Brien was pulled from the wreckage alive, becoming a prisoner of war that evening, and taken to a prisoner's hospital). As Raney's best friend in France, he was quite troubled by the event. After no word on O'Brien for three days, Raney signed for Pat’s personnel belongings and sent them back to Cox & Co, the airforce (RFC) Bankers in England.
[edit] Death
On August 21, 1917, after a total of six patrols and at the age of 24, Raney took off in his assigned Sopwith Pup (B1846), with five other pilots in their afternoon patrol over enemy territory.
The only information of Raney's last moments comes from O'Brien himself, as he witnessed and later wrote in his intriguing novel about his entire wartime experiences: being shot down, captured, and escaping Germany and Belgium into Holland.
From Outwitting The Hun (1918), by Pat O'Brien (Harper & Brothers Publishers: New York, London)
"From my hospital bed as prisoner in Germany, I was musing over the melancholy phase of the scout's life when an orderly told me there was a beautiful battle going on in the air, and he volunteered to help me outside the hospital that I might witness it, and I readily accepted his assistance. That afternoon I saw one of the gamest flights I ever expect to witness.
There were six of our machines against perhaps sixteen Huns. From the type of the British machines, I knew that they might possibly be from my own aerodrome. Two of our machines had been apparently picked out by six of the Huns and were bearing the brunt of the fight. The contest seemed to me to be so unequal that victory for our men was hardly to be thought of, and yet at one time they so completely outmaneuvered the Huns that I thought their superior skill might save the day for them, despite the fact that they were so hopelessly outnumbered. One thing I was sure of; they would never give in.
Of course it would have been a comparatively simple matter for our men, when they saw how things were going against them, to have turned their noses down, landed behind the German lines, and given themselves up as prisoner, but that is not the way of the R.F.C. A battle of this kind seldom lasts many minutes, although every second seems like an hour to those who participate in it and even onlookers suffer more thrills in the course of the struggle than they would ordinarily experience in a lifetime. It is apparent even to a novice that the loser's fate is death.
Of course the Germans around the hospital were all watching and rooting for their comrades, but the English, too, had one sympathizer in that group who made no effort to stifle his admiration for the bravery his comrades were displaying. The end came suddenly. Four machines crashed to earth almost simultaneously. It was an even break--two of theirs and two of ours. The others apparently returned to their respective lines.
The wound in my mouth was bothering me considerably, but by means of a pencil and paper I requested one of the German officers to find out for me who the English officers were who had been shot down. - A little later he returned and handed me a photograph taken from the body of one of the victims. It was a picture of Paul Raney, of Toronto, and myself, taken together! Poor Raney! He was the best friend I had and one of the best and gamest men who ever fought in France!"
The above story is a somewhat dressed-up abstract of a longer report filed by O'Brien upon his eventual return to England. According to this report, he first observed a smaller combat between two British Sopwith Triplanes and about six German Albatrosses; soon after which the five (we might assume at least, as that is the number of planes in Raney's patrol flight) British Pups arrived and joined the fray. O'Brien noted that this turned the fight immediately in British favour; however very soon after the Pups arrived, a flight of at least ten more Albatrosses appeared from the clouds and promptly engaged. The fight then turned deadly for both sides: Raney and a Lt. Keast from 66 Squadron were both subsequently shot down, and at least one German plane was forced down, if not destroyed.
A photo of Raney and O'Brien was found on Raney's body (suggesting that Raney was killed in-flight, and that the plane did not go down in flames), and given to O'Brien by the Germans. When Raney did not return from his patrol, a letter was dispatched two days later to his family in Canada, stating that he had gone missing. A letter later arrived from Patrick O'Brien, detailing their son's ultimate fate. O'Brien soon escaped from Courtnai prison in Belgium, and wrote (in his book) that he later visited Raney's parents in Toronto to bring them a map of his grave site. He preserved this map through a difficult escape which included swimming through canals. The map and the location have been lost, however, and his grave near Roeselare, Belgium, wherever it is, remains unknown, particularly due to ground fighting (and shelling) over the same territory in 1918. Subsequent attempts by the War Graves Commission failed to locate any trace of Raney's remains or final resting place.
From a tactical and technical standpoint, five Sopwith Pups against sixteen of any armed enemy aircraft would be a nearly hopeless situation, especially when Raney and his comrades were fighting what were likely (from the German squadrons stationed in the area) the more powerful Albatros D.IIIs and D.Vs. Outnumbered, outclassed, and outgunned, it is inspiring that the squadron even attempted resistance. An unconfirmed source suggests that Raney possibly went down as the result of gunnery by a Lieutenant Erich Welss of Jasta (Squadron) 28.
He is remembered on the Arras Memorial in the Faubourg-d'Amiens Cemetery, France. The Flying Services Memorial commemorates over 1,000 men of the Royal Naval Air Service, the Royal Flying Corps and the Royal Air Force, who have no known grave.[1]
