Wireless Operator tells the gripping story of a terrifying night-time Lancaster Bomber raid in WW2, told through the eyes and ears of the wireless operator confined in the claustrophobic aircraft. He, with the young crew battle through a maelstrom of violence to participate and become witness to one of the most contentious strategies of WW2, the controversial indiscriminate allied bombing of German cities.

Often, they were targeting cities for ‘de-housing’, as it was euphemistically referred to by the War Office. De-housing was designed to overwhelm the old medieval wooden cities with a firestorm, leaving residents no chance of escape. It is hard to imagine the scale of the slaughter. It is estimated that in Hamburg 35,000 civilians, mostly women, children, old men and refugees were burnt alive in one night. Was this a legitimate demoralising weapon of war? Or was it mass murder?

This play is a portrait of an honourable young men who in good faith participated in acts that history has judged truly appalling. Was this campaign – one of the most contentious strategies of WW2 – a deep betrayal of their trust, their youth, their innocence and their humanity? Or was it a justifiable moral equivalence?

Sanctioned by Churchill, the civilian bombing was executed by highly trained young men, some as young as eighteen. They were expected to kill cold-heartedly, and probably die. The statistics are shocking; only one in six remained alive for their tour of thirty operations. Most died before their tenth.

They volunteered to fight the tyranny of the Nazis but found themselves carrying out the orders of a government which had decided that the deliberate slaughter of civilians was a good strategy. What must it have felt like to carry out these merciless acts without anger or hate?



My father, Sergeant Joe J. Baldwin, a carpenter and a pacifist like the character on whom he is based, was a gentle and thoughtful man who served as a Wireless Operator in 630 Lancaster Squadron. Like others, he struggled to come to terms with what he had participated in and so repressed his feelings. He lived, as most did, with the continuing trauma of PTSD.

A short story he wrote provided the emotional heart of Wireless Operator, as it became clear how psychologically complex his war had been and the extent of the trauma he and his crew mates had endured. They didn’t talk about it; they didn’t get campaign medals and their contribution to the allied victory became a national embarrassment consigned to the back pages of history by a society unsure of its moral culpability.

Who were they?

These boys, some just 18, were apprentices, tradesmen, artists, academics and office workers, they weren’t hateful or aggressive. Our young wireless operator was a carpenter. They were obliged to participate in slaughter and become witness to one of the most contentious strategies of WW2.

Bob Baldwin with Ted Watson. Flight Engineer and last surviving member of his father's Lancaster Bomber Crew


Post-traumatic stress disorder – the untold story of survivors of Bomber Command

There is a disturbing legacy to the Lancaster Bomber campaign; one that not only affected the rest of the lives of those who served, but also impacted the lives of their families. This is now, of course, recognised as post-traumatic stress disorder.

We hope that Wireless Operator will serve to increase awareness of the legacy of PTSD, not only amongst those suffering right now, but also in those in whom it was unacknowledged and who struggled, unheard, for the rest of their lives.


Survival rates

Films and stories glamorise the harsh reality of serving as an airman in Bomber Command. The average age at death was 23. The odds of surviving a tour of duty of 30 sorties were the worst of all the armed forces. Only one in six would survive their first tour and only one in forty a second. On average, the rear gunner would only survive five missions.


Flying a mission

Flying was physically and mentally demanding. Fear was a constant companion. Conditions were cramped and uncomfortable, temperatures often dropping as low as -20°C. The corkscrew manoeuvre, a combination of rolls and dives to avoid enemy aircraft, was often repeated over and over for hours inducing weightlessness and terrible nausea. Generally flying at night, crew members were issued with amphetamines to keep them awake.


The crew

Each of the seven men who comprised a Lancaster crew depended on each other. The crew resisted any member being replaced believing it would bring bad luck and reduce their odds of survival. The young airmen were aware of the horrifying implications of what they were being asked to do. Bombing of German cities killed as many as 600,000 civilians. One moment they were fighting for their lives, involving unimaginable violence and witnessing horrendous events. The next moment they could be having a cup of tea with their mum, or at a local dance.


Lack of moral fibre

Fear and exhaustion were the most common causes of combat stress for bomber crews. Bomber Command did nearly everything it could to keep the pilots flying, establishing a draconian system of military discipline. They devised the term LMF, ‘Lack of Moral Fibre’. It was used as a form of intimidation. Men with LMF were effectively branded as cowards, and their treatment was designed to humiliate and stigmatise. Men were stripped of their rank, and even paraded in public in their badgeless uniforms. Most airmen preferred to risk the odds they faced in the air.


The legacy

Nothing could have prepared them emotionally. Plagued by persistent feelings of fear, guilt, or shame many of the survivors would go to extreme lengths to avoid events which could trigger panic attacks, nightmares and flashbacks. What they had been asked to do, they couldn’t be proud of, it couldn’t be rationalised or legitimised or celebrated. They would often withdraw from friends, family and everyday activities, become guarded irritable and angry with outbursts of reckless behaviour and suicidal thoughts. These are the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. Many survivors never talked about it even to the closest members of their family but it affected them all.


Campaign medals

Unlike the other military services and despite suffering the highest of all casualty rates, members of bomber command were never awarded a campaign medal in recognition of their service. They were ghosted by successive governments not wanting to draw attention to the huge number of casualties inflicted on German civilians, a national embarrassment swept under the carpet by a society unsure of its moral culpability.

It was not until 28 June 2012, that the sacrifice of Bomber Command’s crews was finally recognised with the dedication of a national memorial in London’s Green Park. At the end of 2012 it was announced that veterans or their families could apply for a Bomber Command Clasp. However, many veterans and their families feel that not issuing a full campaign medal remains an insult.

We hope Wireless Operator will raises awareness about PTSD and it’s causes.

We are supporting Combat Stress, the UK’s leading charity for veterans’ mental health charity.