At 1731 hours on November 4th, 1944, squadron leader Brance Burbridge climbed into his mosquito night fighter at RAF Swanington as German radar emissions lit up his navigator screen across occupied Europe.
23 years old, the former conscientious objector had flown 47 combat missions in 8 months.
Bomber command had lost 217 heavy bombers to German night fighters in October alone.
Flight Lieutenant Bill Skelton settled into the navigator’s seat beside him.
The radar operator adjusted his serate detector, a converted AI Mark IV radar.
It picked up transmissions from German Likenstein sets at ranges up to 80 m.
But tonight, the device showed something different.
Multiple contacts, more than Skeleton had seen in weeks.
The problem had grown worse since September.
German night fighters were merging into RAF bomber streams undetected.
They’d positioned themselves beneath Lancasters and Halifaxes using upward firing cannons called Shraa Music.
The bomber crews never saw what killed them.
In the Battle of Berlin, bomber command lost 574 aircraft.
Most fell to night fighters.
Ground crews at Swanington knew the statistics.
Every night they watched mosquitoes take off.
Some didn’t return.
Number 100 group had formed specifically to counter this threat.
Seven squadrons of mosquito night fighters equipped with electronic detection gear.
Their mission was simple.
Hunt the hunters.
Find German knight fighters using their own radar emissions.
Shoot them down before they reached the bomber streams.
Since December 1943, the group had claimed 257 German aircraft destroyed.
But the cost was high.
70 mosquitoes lost.
Burbridge started the Merlin engines.
The wooden airframe vibrated as power built.
He joined 85 Squadron in July 1943 after a year as an instructor.
His first tour produced one probable kill, one damaged.
Then he met Skelton.
Everything changed.
The navigator skill with the serate system gave them an edge.
They’d opened their account in February with a meshmid 410 over the channel.
By April, Burbridge had five victories.
By October, 14.
Tonight, they were flying a highle intruder patrol southeast of Cologne.
The briefing had been clear.
Bomber command was hitting Bokeh.
German night fighters would scramble from bases across the Rar.
Bonhungal Gutters Cologne von.
When they did, mosquitoes would be waiting.
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Back to Burbridge.
The Mosquito lifted off at 1731.
They crossed the English coast at 1,800 ft, descended to avoid coastal radar, then climbed to 15,000 ft over Belgium.
Skelton watched his screens.
The AI Mark 10 gave forward coverage out to 8 m.
The serate detector scanned for enemy radar ahead.
Somewhere in the darkness over Germany, German night fighters were taking off.
Pilots who’d survived dozens of missions, men with 10, 20, 30 kills.
They had altitude advantage.
They had numbers.
They had experience hunting bombers.
But tonight, for the first time, they were the prey.
By 1904 hours, they were over German territory.
Skeleton’s serate screen showed a contact 4 m out, crossing starboard to port.
Burbridge turned in behind it.
The detector worked by receiving emissions from German Likenstein radar.
When Luftwaffa night fighters searched for bombers, they broadcast on frequencies between 490 and 600 MGHertz.
The serate picked up those transmissions, gave bearing, not range.
Skelton had to estimate distance by watching the signal strength.
As they closed, he called adjustments.
Left 2° steady contact strengthening.
At 1500 ft, Burrbridge got visual dark silhouette against darker sky.
Night binoculars confirmed it.
Yunker’s 88.
The twin engine fighter carried a crew of three.
Pilot, radar operator, rear gunner.
It mounted four 20 mm cannons and three machine guns.
Upward-firing Shrog Musk installed in some variants.
The German aircraft was hunting.
Its Likenstein SN2 radar swept the sky ahead, searching for bomber returns.
The crew had no idea a mosquito sat on their tail.
Their radar looked forward, not behind.
The Luftvafa had learned about Sarata in September 1943 when 141 squadrons started operations.
German high command issued warnings, ordered night fighters to limit radar use.
But with bomber streams filling the sky, they had no choice.
Without radar, they were blind.
Burbridge closed to 1,000 ft.
The Yners held steady course, flying west, still searching, still unaware.
He armed the four Hispano cannons mounted in the mosquito’s belly.
Each gun held 175 rounds, total of 700.
But ammunition discipline mattered.
Long bursts, wasted shots, drew attention.
Short, precise bursts, that was the doctrine.
At 800 ft, the Yunkers began a gentle turn.
Skeleton adjusted heading.
They stayed behind, matched the turn.
The German pilot was following directions from ground control.
Bomber command’s main force was still 20 minutes from target.
Night fighters were positioning early, setting up patrol lines.
Burbridge closed to 400 ft.
Through the gunsite, he could see the Yunkers clearly now.
Dark crosses on the fuselage.
The aircraft’s exhausts glowed faint red.
He placed the sight on the port engine.
His philosophy had been consistent since February.
Aim for engines, not cockpit.
Give the crew a chance.
Skelton knew this, never questioned it.
They discussed it once.
Both were Christians.
Both wanted to stop the killing machine.
Not necessarily kill the men.
The Yners maintained course.
Burbridge’s finger moved to the trigger.
3-second burst.
That was the plan.
Hit the engine.
Watch for results.
Adjust if needed.
Then Skelton’s voice came through the intercom.
Contact.
New contact.
Range two miles.
Crossing left to right.
Bearing similar to their own.
Close.
Too close.
Another German knight fighter hunting the same area.
The sky that seemed empty seconds ago was suddenly crowded.
Burbridge made a decision in 2 seconds.
First target first.
He pressed the trigger.
Four Hispano cannons fired.
Tracer rounds arked toward the Yunkers.
The burst lasted 3 seconds, exactly as planned.
Shells tore into the port engine.
Fire erupted immediately.
Orange flames streamed back from the NL.
The Yners rolled hard right, diving away.
Burbridge pulled up sharply to avoid debris.
Skelton confirmed the kill at 1906 hours.
The Yunkers disappeared from visual at 3,000 ft, trailing fire.
They didn’t see it hit the ground, but German records later showed a Yunker’s 88G from Knocky Gishvader 1 crashed near the patrol area that night.
Pilot bailed out.
Radar operator and gunner killed.
No time to watch.
Skeleton second contact was closing.
Range one mile now.
Burbridge turned northwest, searching.
The serate detector gave bearing, but the signal was weak, intermittent.
The German pilot might be using radar sparingly.
Tactical awareness.
The Luftwaffa had adapted since serate first appeared.
Some crews ran silent until the last moment.
Others shut down between sweeps.
At 1914, Skelton got solid contact again.
800 yd dead ahead.
Same altitude.
Burbridge increased power slightly.
The Merlin responded.
Air speed climbed to 280 knots.
The mosquito gained on the target within 3 minutes.
Visual confirmed.
Another Junker’s 88.
Different variant.
This one showed distinct aerials.
The longer SN2 radar array.
More recent production.
The aircraft flew straight and level.
No evasive action.
No indication they detected pursuit.
Burbridge settled into firing position.
600 ft back.
slightly below the textbook approach.
Skeleton monitored screens, no new contacts.
They were clear.
But something felt different.
The Yners was heading toward Bonhangalar airfield.
The base sat 15 mi south of Cologne, major night fighter station, home to second staff, Naktyag 1.
More than 40 fighters operated from that field.
If they got close, the situation would change fast.
Burrbridge closed to 400 ft.
Placed the sight on the starboard engine this time.
Variation mattered.
Predictability could be fatal.
He fired.
3-second burst.
50 rounds from each cannon.
200 total.
The shells hammered into the engine and wing route.
Metal tore.
Fuel ignited.
The entire starboard wing erupted in flames.
The Yners pitched nose down violently rolling left.
The pilot was fighting for control, but physics had already decided.
Secondary explosions rippled through the fuselage.
At 1917, the aircraft inverted completely and dove.
Skelton tracked it to impact.
Crashed in open farmland east of their position.
No survivors.
Two German knight fighters destroyed in 11 minutes.
Burbridge had used approximately 150 rounds total.
550 remained.
Skeleton’s voice came through the headset again.
Multiple contacts, range varying, three miles to 5 miles, different bearings, all converging on one area.
Bonhangalar airfield.
The Germans were forming up, preparing to intercept the bomber stream, and Burbridge was flying straight toward them.
At 1923, they reached the area southeast of Cologne.
Below, scattered lights marked Bonhangalar airfield.
Skelton counted six distinct radar contacts within three mi, all orbiting.
The Germans were stacking.
Standard procedure.
Night fighters would circle a designated point, waiting for ground control to vector them toward bomber streams.
Height separation kept them safe.
500 ft between each aircraft.
Burbridge reduced power descended to 14,000 ft.
The orbital pattern was clear now.
clockwise rotation approximately 2m diameter.
He made a choice that would have seemed insane to most pilots.
He joined the pattern.
The mosquito slipped into the circuit between two contacts.
Skelton monitored spacing.
1500 ft ahead was a German knight fighter.
1,800 ft behind was another.
They were flying in formation with the enemy.
The Germans had no visual reference.
No way to distinguish friend from foe in absolute darkness.
Their radar looked outward for bombers, not at the aircraft next to them.
For 90 seconds, they orbited with the hunters.
Skeleton screen showed the pattern shifting as more fighters joined.
Seven contacts now.
Eight.
The looked waffer was massing for the intercept.
Somewhere to the west, RAF bomber streams were approaching their turning point.
Within 30 minutes, German night fighters would peel off and attack.
Unless they never made it to the bombers.
Burbridge selected the contact ahead.
Range closing slowly as he added slight power.
The orbital pattern meant they were all flying similar speeds, 230 knots.
He needed to close without alerting the aircraft behind him.
Smooth, gradual.
At 1928, visual contact.
Messers 110 twin engine heavier than the Junker’s variants.
This was a dedicated night fighter.
No bombs, all guns.
The BF-110 carried four forward-firing cannons, two upward-firing Shraam Musk, one rear defensive gun.
Crew of three.
It was the Luftwaffa’s primary night interceptor since 1940.
Experienced pilots preferred it.
More stable gun platform than the Yunkers.
Burbridge closed to 500 ft.
The Messers held position in the orbit.
Perfect spacing, professional flying.
This crew knew what they were doing, which meant they were dangerous.
Had to be eliminated before they reached the bomber stream.
At 400 ft, he could see the aircraft clearly through the gun site, the twin tail booms, the glazed nose for the radar operator, exhaust stacks glowing.
He aimed for the port engine.
Fired.
3 seconds.
The cannons hammered.
Tracer rounds stre forward.
Hits immediate.
The port engine exploded.
Fuel spray ignited across the wing.
The mesmitt rolled violently left, dropping out of the pattern.
Burbridge pulled up and right, staying clear of the formation.
The burning fighter fell away, spiraling.
It impacted at 1930.
German records confirm BF-110 from second stafle NJG1 crashed at Bon Hongar.
Pilot killed, two crew bailed out, three German night fighters destroyed in 27 minutes.
But the formation knew now.
Skeleton’s screen showed the pattern breaking.
Aircraft scattering.
Ground control was transmitting warnings.
Intruder in the area.
All fighters take evasive action.
The element of surprise was gone.
And they were still over enemy territory with hostile fighters all around them.
One contact wasn’t running.
One contact was turning toward them.
Skelton called the contact.
Range 1,200 yds, closing fast, bearing 090.
The German pilot had seen the explosion.
Seen the mosquito silhouette against the flames.
Was coming to investigate or engage.
At night, 1,200 yd was close range.
Too close.
Burbridge turned hard into the contact.
The mosquito banked 60°.
If the German expected them to run, this would surprise him.
Night fighting was geometry, angles, closure rates, energy management.
The pilot who controlled the merge controlled the fight.
At 800 yds, skeleton got radar return.
Confirmed contact.
Junker’s 88, the fourth type tonight.
Different again from the others.
Possibly a G variant, the newest model, better radar, more firepower.
These aircraft were becoming harder to surprise.
The Luftvafa was learning.
600 yd.
Both aircraft were converging.
Combined closure rate over 400 knots.
Burbridge had seconds to decide.
Head-on pass or break off.
Head-on meant mutual vulnerability.
Both aircraft firing, both exposed.
But breaking off meant giving the German control, letting him dictate terms.
He held course.
At 400 yd, the Junkers opened fire.
Tracer rounds arked past the mosquito’s port wing.
Close.
The German gunner had them in sight.
Burbridge waited.
300 yd.
200.
The Junkers filled the gunsite.
He fired.
Four cannons.
Full burst.
5 seconds.
Every remaining round in a concentrated stream.
The Junkers staggered.
Multiple hits across the nose and cockpit.
The glazed bombader position shattered.
One engine caught fire, then the other.
The aircraft pitched up sharply, rolled inverted, fell away burning.
Impact at 1940.
German records show Junker’s 88G from 9inth Stafle NJG1 crashed near the Rine.
All crew killed.
Four German night fighters destroyed in 37 minutes.
Burbridge had fired 200 rounds on the fourth target.
Total expenditure for the night.
Approximately 400 rounds.
300 remained, but they were spread across four magazines.
Not enough for sustained engagement.
Skelton reported clear scopes.
No immediate contacts.
The other German fighters had scattered after the warnings.
Some were landing, others repositioning.
The orbital pattern was broken.
For now, the immediate threat was reduced, but fuel state was becoming critical.
They’d been airborne over 2 hours.
The mosquito carried enough for approximately 4 hours total, but operating over Germany meant reserves.
Burbridge turned northwest, heading for home.
Behind them, four German night fighters burned on German soil.
Four crews who would never intercept another bomber.
Four aircraft that would never kill another Lancaster crew.
The mathematics were simple, brutal, necessary.
As they crossed back over Belgium, Skelton made notes for the combat report.
Times, locations, aircraft types, ammunition expended.
It was 1952.
They’d be back at Swannington by 2100 hours if weather held.
But something bothered Skelton.
The detector showed intermittent returns behind them.
Weak signals.
Could be friendly.
could be enemy.
At this range, over two miles, identification was uncertain.
They were exhausted, low on ammunition, heading home.
The logical choice was to maintain course, get out of enemy airspace, land safely, report success.
But the signal was growing stronger.
The signal strengthened, range under two miles.
Skeleton refined the bearing.
It was tracking them, matching their course change when they turned northwest.
Either extremely disciplined friendly escort or German night fighter looking for revenge at night over occupied territory.
Assumptions killed.
Burbridge reduced altitude to 12,000 ft, descended into cloud layer.
The mosquito disappeared into gray darkness.
No visual reference.
Flying on instruments.
If the contact was using radar, clouds provided no protection.
But if it was visual pursuit, they’d lost him.
3 minutes in cloud.
Skeleton watched his screens.
The contact faded.
Range opening.
Whoever it was had lost them or broken off.
They climbed back to 13,000 ft.
Emerged into clear air.
Stars overhead, scattered clouds below.
The Dutch coast was 40 m ahead.
At 2008, they crossed the enemy coastline.
Flack batteries at Ammuden opened fire, but the mosquito was too high, too fast.
Black puffs burst below them.
They were clear over the North Sea now.
Friendly territory in 20 minutes.
Skeleton ran systems check.
Fuel showed 200 gall, enough for another hour if needed.
Hydraulics normal, engines normal, no damage from the engagement.
The mosquito had performed perfectly.
Four targets, four kills, zero hits taken.
The wooden airframes advantage was speed and maneuverability.
They had used both tonight.
Burbridge’s hands were steady on the controls, but his mind was processing.
Four German night fighters in 37 minutes.
Most crews got one victory per tour.
Some never got any.
They destroyed four in a single sordy.
The implications were significant for the squadron, for the group, for bomber command.
But he also knew the cost.
Four German pilots dead, others wounded, families who would receive telegrams.
He’d aimed for engines where possible, but the fourth engagement had been different.
Headon, no choice.
The reality of war was unavoidable.
Stop the machine.
Save the bomber crews.
That was the mission.
At 2021, the English coast appeared ahead.
Norfolk RAF Swanington sat 15 miles inland.
They’d been airborne 2 hours 50 minutes.
Skeleton radioed tower.
Mosquito returning.
Four victories claimed.
Permission to land.
The controller’s voice came back immediately.
Cleared straight in.
Runway 27.
Wind light.
Weather clear.
The airfield lights showed at 2028.
Burbridgeidge entered the pattern.
Reduced power.
Extended flaps.
Landing gear down.
Three green lights confirmed.
The mosquito settled onto the runway at 2032 hours.
Smooth touchdown.
They rolled out, turned onto the taxi way, proceeded to dispersal.
Ground crew were waiting.
Always waiting.
They counted aircraft out.
Counted them back.
Tonight, one mosquito returned with extraordinary news.
The crew chief approached as engines shut down.
Four kills.
The word spread immediately through the ground personnel.
Four in one night.
No one had done that.
Burbridge and Skelton climbed out, filled out initial combat reports, times, positions, aircraft types, ammunition used.
The intelligence officer would debrief them fully tomorrow, get detailed accounts, correlate with German records eventually.
But tonight, preliminary claims stood.
One BF-110 destroyed, three JU88s destroyed.
Other mosquitoes from 100 group had scored that night.
Three BF-110s total claimed across all squadrons.
But Burbridge and Skeleton’s tally was unprecedented.
What they didn’t know was that this single mission would change everything.
By November 5th, word reached Bomber Command headquarters.
Air Chief Marshal Arthur Harris reviewed the report personally.
Four confirmed kills, single crew, single sordy, 200 rounds per kill average.
The efficiency was remarkable.
More importantly, the tactic worked.
Serate equipped mosquitoes could hunt German night fighters in their own airspace, disrupt their operations before they reached bomber streams.
Within a week, 100 group revised training protocols.
Burbridge and Skelton were asked to brief other crews, explain the technique, how to join enemy formations undetected, when to engage, how to manage ammunition.
The orbital pattern infiltration became doctrine.
Other squadrons implemented it immediately.
The impact showed in November’s statistics.
Bomber Command lost 152 aircraft that month, down from 217 in October.
German night fighter effectiveness decreased 28%.
100 group claimed 63 enemy aircraft destroyed.
Burbridge and Skelton accounted for seven of those.
Their total stood at 17 by months end.
The Germans noticed.
Luftwafa High Command issued new directives.
Night fighters were ordered to reduce radar use to minimum.
Some crews refused, knowing it meant flying blind.
Others complied and their kill rates dropped.
The serate system had created a tactical dilemma.
Use radar and risk detection.
Don’t use radar and miss bombers entirely.
By December, the phenomenon had a name.
Mosquito Shrek.
Mosquito terror.
German night fighter pilots reported constant fear during landing approaches.
The most vulnerable moment.
Gear down, flaps extended, slow, low, no maneuverability, mosquito intruders would orbit airfields for hours waiting.
When German fighters came home exhausted after missions, the hunters struck.
Burbridge and Skeleton continued operations through December.
On the 12th, they destroyed a BF-110 and Ju88 near Essen.
December 23rd, another BF-110 near Cooblins.
Their victory total reached 20 by year’s end, one more than Group Captain John Cunningham.
Cats eyes Cunningham, the legendary night fighter ace.
Burbridge’s former squadron commander.
January 2nd, 1945.
Final mission.
Southwest of Ludvikhoffen.
Bomber Command was attacking oil refineries.
Burbridge and Skelton flew escort.
At 2215 hours, skeleton got contact.
4 miles closing.
Visual confirmed.
Ju88.
Standard approach.
400 ft.
3-second burst.
Port engine fire.
The aircraft crashed.
All crew killed.
Victory number 21.
The highest scoring British and Commonwealth night fighter partnership of the war, surpassing Cunningham’s record.
Air Vice Marshall Addison, 100 Group Commander, sent personal congratulations.
Distinguished service order, bar added, for both men.
But the real achievement wasn’t the medals, wasn’t the record, it was the mathematics.
21 German night fighters destroyed meant 21 crews that never reached bomber streams.
Each German knight averaged six bomber kills per year.
Simple multiplication.
Burbridge and Skelton saved approximately 126 bomber crews, 1,260 RAF lives.
The invisible hunter had become visible and the Germans believed it because the evidence was burning across their airfields every night.
March 1945, Burbridge left 85 Squadron, posted to Night Fighter Leaders School as commanding officer.
The war in Europe had two months remaining, but his combat tour was complete.
Skelton remained with the squadron briefly before his own posting.
Their partnership had lasted 13 months, 21 victories, zero losses.
After Germany surrendered, both men made identical decisions.
They left the RAF, studied theology.
Burbridge went to Oxford, history degree first, then theology.
Skelton chose Cambridge, Trinity Hall.
Both felt called to ministry.
The war had shown them death.
Now they wanted to show people life.
Burbridge joined Scripture Union in 1948.
Youth ministry.
He spent decades working with students, holiday programs, sixth form courses.
Never spoke much about the war.
When pressed, he’d say one thing.
I aimed for engines, not cockpits.
wanted to stop the machine, not kill the men.
His log book stayed in a drawer, his medals in a box.
Skelton was ordained Anglican priest, became chaplain at Clare College, Cambridge, later recctor of Market Harbor.
His war service rarely came up in sermons.
He focused on reconciliation, forgiveness, the things that mattered after fighting ended.
100 Group disbanded December 17th, 1945.
7 months after victory in Europe, the electronic warfare tactics developed by the group became standard doctrine.
Postwar air forces worldwide adopted serate principles, radar detection, electronic countermeasures.
The invisible hunt, it changed how night fighting worked forever.
The mosquito served until 1951 in RAF service, longer in other air forces.
But the aircraft’s legacy wasn’t longevity.
It was versatility.
Bomber, fighter, reconnaissance, intruder.
One airframe, multiple roles.
Wooden construction that outperformed metal competitors.
Dehavlin’s gamble on an unarmed fast bomber evolved into one of the war’s most effective aircraft.
Burbridge and Skelton remained close friends until Skeleton’s death in 2003.
They’d meet occasionally, talk about theology, family, rarely about November 4th, 1944.
That night belonged to history now, to the RAF, to the 1,260 bomber crew members who came home because 21 German night fighters didn’t.
Brans Burbridge died November 1st, 2016, 95 years old.
By then his medals had been sold to pay for care.
His family needed the money.
The nation had moved on.
But the record remained.
21 victories.
Highests scoring British night fighter race ace.
The invisible hunter who Germans couldn’t believe existed until the evidence burned across their skies.
Stories like Burbridge and Skeletons remind us that innovation wins wars.
Serate radar, intruder tactics, electronic warfare.
These weren’t just technical advances.
They were force multipliers that saved lives.
Every night fighter they shot down meant bomber crews that came home.
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