Bert Houle, 94; 'Fabled fighter jock' was a rare double ace and was twice awarded the DFC
Hyfler/Rosner
'Fabled fighter jock' was a rare double ace and was twice
awarded the DFC
Charismatic pilot beat the odds during 338 operational
sorties in two tours of combat against the Luftwaffe
BUZZ BOURDON
Special to the Globe and Mail
August 12, 2008
OTTAWA -- Standing just 5 foot 4 in his stocking feet, Bert
Houle wasn't the biggest guy around, but size didn't matter
in his line of work.
Sitting in the cockpit of a Spitfire fighter aircraft, its
powerful Merlin engine revving with machine guns fully
loaded for combat, it didn't matter how big a pilot was.
What he needed was heart, nerves of steel, shooting ability,
flying skills and most of all, the killer instinct - fierce
desire to inflict as much damage on the enemy as possible by
shooting down his aircraft.
Mr. Houle's record shows he was one of the best. With 338
operational sorties in two tours of aerial combat against
the German Luftwaffe over North Africa, Sicily and Italy,
Mr. Houle beat the odds and became a living legend.
After flying with 213 and 145 Squadrons of the Royal Air
Force, Mr. Houle went over to the RCAF and commanded 417
(City of Windsor) Squadron, and became its top scoring
pilot.
The charismatic and pugnacious Mr. Houle found fame as a
double ace, which required 10 confirmed kills. (He was
credited with 11.5 enemy aircraft destroyed, plus another
one probably destroyed, along with seven damaged.) But he
was also a superlative leader who inspired his pilots to
greater efforts.
"Built like a bulldog and just as tough," he was awarded the
Distinguished Flying Cross for his gallantry, plus a bar to
indicate a second award. Postwar research increased his kill
score by two to 13.5 but, much to his chagrin, he never
received official credit. He was offered the Distinguished
Service Order instead of a bar to his DFC, but turned it
down.
"He took the bar because it was a fighting medal and he
figured he'd probably get the DSO later," said his son,
Keith. "But he was wounded and repatriated and never got the
DSO."
Mr. Houle was posted to 213 Squadron in September, 1941,
when it was helping to defend Cyprus and Alexandria, but he
didn't see serious combat until July, 1942. He got his first
kill on Sept. 1, when he shot down a Junkers 88 bomber.
Almost two months later, on Oct. 26, Mr. Houle and fellow
pilots were flying over El Alamein when they attacked two
squadrons of Stuka dive-bombers.
Five decades later, he remembered that mission for author
Robert Bracken. "With the first three aircraft, I got so
close that the bullets straddled the target. Slight right
rudder put the left cannon on target. On the fourth Stuka, I
inadvertently pushed forward on the stick and the result was
spectacular. Each cannon fired on a wing-root fuel cell, and
both cells blew up. I watched mesmerized while the aircraft
went into a slow spiral from about 700 feet and crashed on a
sandy spit. I damaged another, then headed for home. I was
awarded the DFC for this action."
It was well-deserved, to say the least. Postwar research by
aviation historian Christopher Shores indicated that Mr.
Houle had really shot down four or five aircraft.
Soon afterward, he took part in an operation straight out of
a Boy's Own adventure. On Nov. 13, 1942, Mr. Houle and his
fellow pilots flew about 150 kilometres behind enemy lines
to an abandoned airstrip and spent three days strafing
German ground convoys and destroying 300 vehicles. "I shared
[shooting down] a Fieseler Storch in the air but I have
never included it in my score as I was ashamed to claim an
unarmed opponent. I also destroyed at least one and probably
two Savois SM-79s on the ground," he told Mr. Bracken.
After six months with 145 Squadron, Mr. Houle, who could be
impatient and stubborn, arrived at 417 Squadron in June,
1943. The squadron had a bad reputation throughout the
Middle East and Mr. Houle was determined to whip its pilots
into shape. A promotion to squadron leader soon followed; he
assumed command on Nov. 21, 1943.
Flying the Spitfire VIII, Mr. Houle and his pilots provided
air cover for the invasions of Sicily and the Italian
mainland. His personal score kept climbing, too. On Oct. 4,
1943, he shot down three Focke-Wulf 190 fighters. "My No. 2
claims I got two in 15 seconds. My proudest boast is that I
never had a pilot killed in any formation of Spitfires I
led, and that included more than one complete tour of
operations."
Retired lieutenant-general Bill Carr first met Mr. Houle in
1944. "Bert was a fabled fighter jock who led by example and
who was known even then to not look too kindly on people who
sat safely behind desks and issued 'bits of paper' which
served little purpose."
On Jan. 22, 1944, Mr. Carr was flying over Italy's Anzio
beachhead in his Spitfire XI when he noticed another
Spitfire on his tail. It was Mr. Houle, who had mistaken Mr.
Carr for a German Me-109, which could happen when pilots
spotted a Spitfire XI from behind. "He admitted he was
trying to get me and add me to his score. I admired and
respected him as a hero and great Canadian."
Three weeks later, on Feb. 14, 1944, Mr. Houle narrowly
avoided death when a 20-mm shell exploded behind his head
and a piece of metal lodged near his carotid artery. He'd
just destroyed a FW-190 and damaged another. Somehow, he
managed to make it back to base. It was his second wound.
One of his men quipped, "The CO's so tough he has a hole in
his neck but he doesn't even bleed!"
That was it for Mr. Houle. The brass decided he'd done
enough and sent him home to Canada. First, he stopped at
Buckingham Palace in London where, on April 18, 1944, King
George VI presented him with his decorations.
Bert Houle was born on the kitchen table during a snowstorm
not far from the Lake Huron's North Channel, between Sudbury
and Sault Ste. Marie, Ont. The doctor was stuck in nearby
Massey, so Mr. Houle's grandmother acted as midwife.
By the age of 10, Mr. Houle was shooting game for the
cooking pot and working on the family farm. For fun, he and
his two brothers would box and wrestle in the barn. Then he
started school. "He told me that he and his brothers had
three strikes against them: They were farm boys going to a
town school, Catholics in a Protestant school and they were
short," said his daughter, Donna. "So, at an early age, he
learned to fight."
After graduating in electrical engineering from the
University of Toronto in 1936 - he was also a champion
wrestler - Mr. Houle worked in a mine and taught at his alma
mater. After the war started on Sept. 1, 1939, he applied to
the RCAF as a pilot because he wanted individual competition
in combat. He was so keen to enlist he had his tonsils taken
out so the recruiters couldn't use that as a reason to
reject him. After earning his wings, he reached Britain in
June of 1941.
When the war ended, he decided to remain in the air force.
As it turned out, peacetime and the military proved not to
be a good combination. He soon became irritated by his
higher-ups, especially when they posted him to Whitehorse so
the commanding officer there could spend Christmas, 1945, at
home. Mr. Houle promptly quit. "He had missed the previous
four Christmases overseas fighting the war, so he resigned,"
said Craig Houle. "He had a disdain for the postwar brass
because he felt that they were trying to knock down the guys
who had actually fought."
But a few months flying as a bush pilot convinced Mr. Houle
to return to the RCAF. For the next two decades, he held
various staff positions and commands, including those at
RCAF Station St. Hubert, Que. He retired in 1965 as a group
captain with 3,547 hours flying 28 aircraft types.
After working as a stock broker - he quit because he had no
interest in promoting stocks he had no confidence in - he
golfed, curled and spent time with his family.
In 2005, aircraft collector Michael Potter invited Mr.
Houle, who suffered from Alzheimer's, to sit in his vintage
Spitfire at Vintage Wings of Canada, a museum in Gatineau,
Que. "He remembered the controls. He had no trouble finding
the brakes and the throttle - it must be like riding a bike,
you never forget how," said Donna Houle.
The same year, the City of Windsor mounted a full-scale
replica of a Hurricane and Spitfire in flight as a tribute
to 417 Squadron. The Spitfire's fuselage was painted with
Mr. Houle's personal aircraft number: AN-A. He had no
trouble recognizing that, either.
BERT HOULE
Albert Ulric Houle was born March 24, 1914, in Massey, Ont.
He died of natural causes on June 1, 2008, in Ottawa. He was
94. He is survived by son Craig, daughter Donna, brother
Lionel and sister Elva. He was predeceased by his wife of 62
years, Margaret.