David hornell

6 min read

Heroes of the Victoria Cross

In June 1944, above the North Atlantic, a Canadian flight lieutenant engaged an enemy U-boat before leading his aircrew in a battle against the elements

With the starboard engine on fire, the wireless unresponsive, one weapon jammed and the entire aircraft shaking violently, pilot David Hornell pressed his Canso 9754 ‘P’ into the attack. Below at a distance of 1,500ft (460m), the surfaced U-1225 – a German submarine some 120 miles (193km) off the Shetland Islands – continued scoring hits with its twin 0.8in (20mm) flak guns. The 34-yearold Canadian was undeterred. Straddling a fine line between evasive action and staying on course, Hornell readied himself to drop depth charges when suddenly, at no less than 900ft (275m), the U-boat turned to port. This had not been part of the flight lieutenant’s plan of approaching from astern. Hesitate, and there would be no second chance. Lose his nerve, and it would be Hornell and his seven-man crew, not U-1225, at the bottom of the North Atlantic. It was now or never.

A Toronto native, ex-Goodyear Tire & Rubber employee and former Sunday School teacher, David ‘Bud’ Hornell had led a fairly ordinary life, even after the outbreak of war. He had enrolled in the Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) in 1941 and helped defend Canadian waters during the following years. That changed in early 1944 when his 162 Bomber Reconnaissance (BR) Squadron was seconded to RAF Coastal Command and transferred to Allied-occupied Iceland. There, the unit’s twin-engine Canso aircraft – Canadian-built versions of the US PBY Catalina – joined efforts to close the Mid-Atlantic Gap, an area between North America and Britain out of range of Allied patrol planes. Their absence had resulted in German U-boats wreaking havoc against Allied convoys, but the arrival of No 162 Squadron had already made a significant difference. From May 1944, a detachment had also been sent to RAF Wick in northern Scotland to prevent enemy attacks on the Allied D-Day fleet. Such duties, though necessary, could be long and tedious, as had been the case for Canso 9754 ‘P’ following an uneventful ten-hour patrol that 24 June 1944. The crew had been looking forward to returning to Wick when 2nd Flight Sergeant Israel Joseph Bodnoff identified the surfaced U-boat.

A consolidated Catalina, or Canso, on exercise at Gaspe, Quebec, June 1943

Much happened in the short time between the sighting and Hornell’s deadly game of chicken. With the pilot having himself spied the submarine, he sounded the klaxon signalling action stations, banked sharply and headed straight for the target. However, it soon became evident that they were not alone in their battle readiness. Flak shells exploded in the sky around the aircraft, growing in intensity as it approached the clearly alerted U-boat.

Flying Officer Graham Campbe