GRAY, F/O Roderick Borden (J13979) - Mention in Despatches - No.172 Squadron (deceased) - Award effective 1 January 1945 as per London Gazette of that date and AFRO 918/45 dated 1 June 1945. Born in Sault Ste.Marie, Ontario, 2 October 1917. Educated there to June 1937, then worked for CPR as freight trucker until enlistment. Joined Canadian Army, 13 July 1940, transferring to RCAF, 21 October 1941 when posted to No.1 Manning Depot. To No.31 Radio School, 10 November 1941. To No.1 ITS, 4 January 1942; graduated and promoted LAC, 27 February 1942 where he was described as "Studious, capable type of airman. Cool, calm and conscientious, confident and dependable"). Further trained at No.5 AOS (27 February to 5 June 1942, 82 hours 40 minutes on Ansons, assessed as "above average"), No.7 BGS (6 June to 24 July 1942, 29 hours 40 minutes on Fairey Battles, graduated third in a class of 21, assessed in bombing as "steady bomb aimer" and in gunnery as "steady, reliable gunner"), No.1 CNS (25 July to 27 September 1942, 31 hours on Ansons, assessed as "good at all tasks") and No.1 GRS (25 September to 6 November 1942, 18 hours 45 minutes on Ansons and assessed an "an average student"). Commissioned 5 September 1942. To “Y” Depot, 7 November 1942. Arrived in UK, 30 November 1942. Promoted Flying Officer, 5 March 1943. Crewed at No.3 OTU (30 March to 1 June 1943). No.172 Squadron, 2 June 1943 until he was killed in action, 27 August 1944 (Wellington NB798). As of 16 July 1944 he was reported to have flown a total of 590 hours as "observer" including 152 in previous six months and was assessed as "A quiet and pleasant manner; above average in his loyalty; a sound and reliable officer". Medals with Canadian War Museum (AN 19780241-001). RCAF photographs PL-42508 and PL-42509 (ex UK-19465 and UK-19466 dated 10 March 1945) taken by crew of an RAF Sunderland that rescued the three survivors. “In the water beside the dinghy in which they were rescued is WO G.H. Bulley, DFC of Halifax, shown as he watched the approaching Sunderland. F/O G.E. Whitley DSO of Southport, Lancs was forced to lie on the bottom of the small one-man dinghy with FS J.W.E. Ford DFM of London draped across his legs,” PL-42510 (ex UK-19467 dated 10 March 1945) is another view of the rescue taken by an aircraft that accompanied the Sunderland. // GRAY, F/O Roderick Borden (J13979) - George Cross - No.172 Squadron - Award effective 13 March 1945 as per London Gazette of that date and AFRO 625/45 dated 13 April 1945. // One night in August 1944, this officer was the navigator of a Wellington aircraft which was shot down into the sea by a U-boat in the Atlantic. Flying Officer Gray and three other members of the crew managed to extricate themselves from the aircraft. Despite a severe wound in the leg, Flying Officer Gray succeeded in inflating his own dinghy and then assisted his captain, who had been wounded, into it. Soon afterwards cries were heard from another member of the crew, who had broken his arm, and Flying Officer Gray also helped him into the dinghy. Knowing that it could not hold more than two persons, Flying Officer Gray, although suffering intense pain, refused to get into the dinghy. Assisted by another member of the crew and by an occupant of the dinghy, he held onto its side for some hours. The pain from his leg (it is thought that the lower part had been shot off) was increasing in intensity and he was becoming exhausted. He steadfastly refused, however, to endanger his comrades by entering the dinghy. He eventually lost consciousness and died. When it became light, his companions realised that he was dead and they were forced to let his body sink. The survivors were rescued later. Flying Officer Gray displayed magnificent courage and unselfish heroism, thus enabling the lives of his comrades to be saved. // Earlier submission (AIR 2/9230) had read as follows: // On the night of 26th August 1944, this officer was the navigator of a Wellington aircraft which was shot down into the sea in flames by a U-boat in the Bay of Biscay. Flying Officer Gray and three other members of the crew managed to extricate themselves from the aircraft. Despite a severe wound in the leg, Flying Officer Gray succeeded in inflating his own dinghy and then assisted his captain, who had also been wounded, into it. Soon afterwards cries were heard from another member of the crew, who had broken his arm, and Flying Officer Gray also helped him into the dinghy. Knowing that it could not hold more than two persons, Flying Officer Gray, although suffering intense pain, refused to get into the dinghy. Assisted by another member of the crew and by an occupant of the dinghy, he held onto its side for some hours. The pain from his leg (it is thought that the lower part had been shot off) was increasing in intensity and he was becoming exhausted. He steadfastly refused, however, to endanger his comrades by entering the dinghy. He eventually lost consciousness and died. When it became light, his companions realised that he was dead and they were forced to let his body sink. The survivors were rescued later. Flying Officer Gray displayed magnificent courage and unselfish heroism, thus enabling the lives of his comrades to be saved. // Reference Public Record Office Air 2/9230. This began as a recommendation for an Albert Medal and a submission from the Air Officer, No.19 Group dated 17 October 1944 read as follows: // The late Flying Officer Gray was one of the crew of a Wellington aircraft that was shot down into the sea by a U-boat in the Bay of Biscay in position 45 degrees 33 minutes 02 degrees 12 minutes west on the night of 26/27th August 1944. The aircraft struck the sea in flames and Flying Officer Gray and three other members of the crew escaped from it into the water. The remainder of the crew disappeared with the aircraft. Although severely wounded in the leg, Flying Officer Gray managed to inflate his own dinghy and helped his Captain. F/L Whitely, who was severely injured, into it. Shortly afterwards, the cries of Flight Sergeant Ford who had a broken arm, were heard and he too was helped into the dinghy by Flying Officer Gray. The dingy could not hold more than two persons and Flying Officer Gray steadfastly refused to get into it although the pain from his injuries grew more intense and he was heard to say that he thought the lower part of his leg had been shot off. Supported by Warrant Officer Bulley and by one other of the occupants of the dinghy Flying Officer Gray for some hours remained hanging on to the side of the dinghy. Although the pain from his injuries was increasing and his exhaustion was becoming worse, Flying Officer Gray still resolutely refused to attempt to get into the dinghy as he knew that if he did so it would sink and that almost certainly all his comrades would be drowned. Flying Officer Gray gradually lost consciousness and died, and when it became light and its was realised that he was dead his comrades were forced to let his body sink. They were later rescued later. // For his magnificent bravery and lack of thought for himself in inflating and giving his own dinghy to his comrades and thus enabling their lives to be saved I very strongly recommend a posthumous award of the Albert Medal to the late Flying Officer. // This was endorsed on 1 November 1944 by the Air Officer Commanding, Coastal Command (Air Chief Marshal William Sholto Douglas), recommended the George Cross. // NOTE: No.172 Squadron report on the loss of the aircraft gives the following details. Pilot was 135872 F/L G.E. Whiteley; 2nd pilot J36575 F/O T.G. Robb (New Westminster); navigator J13979 F/O R.B. Gray; WOPAGs were R124688 WO G.H. Bulley (later awarded DFC), 1383877 FS J.W.C. Ford and 1295543 FS D. Rowell. Aircraft departed Chivenor at 1726 hours. Aircraft patrolling Bay of Biscay in moonlight without radar. When cloud finally obscured moon, radar was switched on (0010 hours). At 0015 hours flying at 800 feet they got a contact 25 degrees to port and eleven miles off. They homed on this and switched on Leigh Light at 3/4 mile distance from target. Fully surfaced U-boat seen which immediately opened fire. Port engine hit and burst into flames. Aircraft continued and at 1/4 mile s range starboard engine hit. Attack completed but no results seen. Port engine feathered, fire extinguished and aircraft maintained height for 1/2 mile before flying into sea. Whitely, Gray, Bulley and Ford found themselves in water with one "K" type dinghy and a torch. Whitely put into dinghy with Ford on top of him as both were injured. Gray and Bulley clung to dinghy but Gray died in the night, although Whitely held onto him until dawn. Bulley remained in water the whole 15 hours and did excellent work. Wellington A/172 spotted survivors at 45 degrees 30 minutes north, two degrees 23 minutes west at 1353 hours; rescue effected at 1500 hours by Sunderland P/10 which landed in open sea, arriving at Mount Batten at 1830 hours. // On 20 March 1945, Warrant Officer Bulley was quoted in a letter (Department to National Defence to widow in Winnipeg): // Never so long as I live will I forget Cy Gray's courage. I definitely owe my life to him. In my opinion he was just about the biggest hero that ever lived. // RCAF Press Release No.9154 dated 10 March 1945 from F/O Ron Gadsby and F/L S.T. Tilley, transcribed by Huguette Mondor Oates, reads: // // LONDON: -- The George Cross has been awarded posthumously to the RCAF’s F/O Roderick B. Gray, former CPR employee of Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, and Winnipeg, Manitoba who helped save the lives of three members of his crew and sacrificed his own after their Wellington had been shot down into the sea by a U-boat. The George Cross, one of the Empire’s highest honors, is given for “acts of the greatest heroism, or of the most conspicuous courage, in circumstances of extreme danger”, it was stated in an announcement today by the RCAF // Throughout the ordeal, which involved clinging to a rubber dinghy for hours in the Atlantic despite severe injuries, the 27-year-old navigator’s achievements were partly paralleled by one of the survivors, Warrant Officer Gordon H. Bulley, 26- years-old, of Halifax, N.S., wireless operator of the crew, who received the Distinguished Flying Cross for his share in the incident. Warrant Officer Bulley had suffered only light injuries. // The two Canadians swam to the aid of two more seriously injured R.A.F. members of their crew. Shocked by the impact, and in the face of darkness and confusion, they loaded their two wounded comrades aboard the one small dinghy available to them. It was Gray’s dinghy and it was intended for one man but barely able to support two. So, Gray and Bulley put their two wounded crewmates aboard, and themselves clung to the side of the dinghy for support, waiting for rescue. At dawn, it was ascertained that Gray, who had lost part of one leg in the crash, was dead. It was late afternoon before the survivors were picked up. // F/O Gray, navigator of the Coastal Command Wellington, spotted a surfaced U-boat while the aircraft was on night petrol in the Atlantic last August. The gun crews of the submarine were at action posts on deck. The Wellington went in to attack and dropped its depth charges which straddled the enemy vessel. At the same time, anti-aircraft fire caught and crippled the Wellington, sending it crashing on the sea. It was F/O Gray’s presence of mind which enabled him and two others to escape quickly from the aircraft which practically disintegrated and began to sink as soon as it struck the water. Gray, as the plane sped toward the sea, removed the cover of the astrodome through which they made an exit. // The other flier to get through the astro hatch along with Gray and Bulley was F/S J.W.C. Ford of London, wireless operator air-gunner. The captain of the crew, F/L G.E. Whiteley of Southport, Lancashire, also managed to get out of the wreckage, seriously injured. Two remaining members of the crew were trapped and went down with the plane. F/L Whiteley received the D.S.O. and F/S Ford, the D.F.M. The award of the G.C. to F/O Gray is the fourth to be won by a member of the RCAF in this war. It is the third awarded posthumously. // Warrant Officer Bulley, on learning of the award of the George Cross to his late crewmate whom he knew as “Cy”, said: “Never as long as I live will I forget Cy Gray’s courage. I definitely owe my life to him because I wouldn’t be alive today if he had NOT had the foresight to remove the cover of the astrodome. And what’s more, Cy, disregarding his own suffering, gave up his place in his own dinghy to those of the crew he felt were more seriously wounded. In my opinion, he was just about the biggest hero that ever lived.” F/L Whiteley said: “Canada can be proud of her men like ‘Cy’ Gray. He was one of the finest men I have ever known.” // F/O Gray was born in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, the son of Mrs.Rean Blanche Gray whose home is at 20 Birch Street. F/O Gray’s widow presides at 337 Home Street, Winnipeg. She is the former Muriel Elizabeth Burns. They were married in October, 1942, a month before he came overseas. From 1937 to 1940, Gray was employed as a freighter with the CPR at Sault Ste. Marie. He served as a private with the Sault Ste. Marie Sudbury regiment during 1940 and 1941, before transferring to the RCAF // Bulley’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. J.B. Bulley, reside at 92 Edward Street, Halifax. Warrant Officer Bulley, recounting the incident, said: “As soon as we located the submarine with our Leigh Light, the Nazi gunners opened fire with an intense flak barrage. Our port engine was hit and immediately caught fire. All this happened while I was sending out the flash wireless report saying that we had discovered a submarine operating in such and such an area. I couldn’t see our depth charges fall but the skipper told us later he felt certain we’d scored a direct straddle. When we passed over the submarine’s conning tower, the flak barrage again hit our kite and this time it put the starboard engine out of commission. With no engine left, we flew into the ocean and crashed.” // “Two of the crew were trapped in the aircraft and didn’t have a chance. I was knocked out and can’t remember anything that happened in the next few seconds but when I came to, I found myself 15 feet under water. Fortunately the cover of the astrodome had been taken off by Cy Gray just before the crash so I pulled myself through the opening and somehow managed to swim to the surface. I had always done a lot of swimming in the North West Arm in Halifax and that probably saved me. When I got to the surface, I saw that Cy had managed to escape with a dinghy only large enough to hold one man. I heard cries from the skipper who had no dinghy to cling to. Swimming over to Cy, I helped him inflate the dinghy. It was hard to see at the time and it certainly wasn’t an easy job. Then we again heard the skipper calling for help. Cy and I took our dinghy over to where he was and helped him into it, but not long after the skipper had climbed into the dinghy, it started to lose air so we had to take him out of it and I got in myself and pumped it up manually.” // “As I did this, Cy and the skipper clung to the sides of the life raft and floated in the ocean supported by their Mae-Wests. When the dinghy was fully inflated again, I got out of it and helped the skipper in. He had been badly wounded. He couldn’t move his right side, his left hand was badly mashed and his face was cut. Cy was also seriously injured and he told us he was sure his leg had been broken. For my own part, I was quite o.k. with nothing more serious than a few minor scratches and bruises. Not long after we got the skipper into the dinghy, we heard cries of help coming from the other WOP Air Gunner, F/S Ford, so Cy and I both swam around and finally located him in the darkness. He had a broken arm and couldn’t swim with it at all. We hauled him into the dinghy and put him on top of the skipper.” // “I couldn’t see any sign of the U-boat, but it wasn’t long before we heard the engine of an aircraft flying overhead. Its crew didn’t see us, however, and passed on. Cy and I clung to the dinghy until dawn but we never really gave up hope. My legs were beginning to stiffen up but personally I felt I could stick it for another night. Cy on the other hand, was not so well off. He was suffering tremendously and all of us did everything we could to encourage him to keep up his strength. It was a hell of a night, and when dawn finally broke, Cy gave no sign of life. We tried to shake him but immediately realized he was dead. There was nothing for us to do but cut him loose from the dinghy.” // “I continued to cling to the dinghy all that morning and afternoon until finally we were spotted by a Wellington crew from our own squadron. They circled the dinghy and flashed out a message telling us to hold on because they would send help. We waited, and 45 minutes later, two Sunderland flying boats flew right over us. One circled while the other picked us up. In the aircraft, they gave us all hot tea. Utterly exhausted, I fell asleep and awoke to find we had landed and were being rushed to a naval hospital in a British port.” // Addendum to the above RCAF Press Release reads: // “The unselfish devotion to duty and the unfailing courage of F/O R.B. (Cy) Gray of Winnipeg, Canada, were an inspiration to the three of us who survived our crash in the Bay of Biscay,” said F/L G.E. Whitley, DSO, RAF of Southport, Lancs., in describing the heroism of his RCAF Navigator which has earned the posthumous award of the George Cross. // “Gray was one of the finest men I have ever known,” continued F/L Whitley, pilot of the ill-fated Coastal Command Wellington. “He was quiet, reserved, devoted to his wife, and every inch a gentleman. Canada can be proud of her men like ‘Cy’ Gray.” // In describing the crash that cost two lives, F/L Whitley, who is a patient at an RAF Rehabilitation and Convalescent Depot in the Midlands, vividly recounted the events of the night in August, 1944. His story follows: // “It was on the fourth trip of our tour when we ‘got it’. I had completed a tour before, and it was the beginning of my second one. The other lads whom I had met only a month before, were in various stages of completion of their tours, and Cy Gray had but two months to serve before he was going home to his wife to whom he was very devoted. To us, it was just another routine flight. We would fly out over the Bay of Biscay on the look-out for submarines. Our take-off time was around 5:30 and for the first while there was no activity at all. I remember well how dark it became after nine o’clock. The sky was almost rich with blackness, there was low cloud and we couldn’t see a thing. There was little chatter over the intercom, and then suddenly Cy reported that he contacted a submarine on his equipment. He gave me a bearing, and we turned towards the sub. It was pitch black, and you could feel the tension in the aircraft.” // “Three quarters of a mile from the enemy which had been plotted by Cy, I turned on my Leigh light (searchlight), which shone directly on the sub. It was fully surfaced and waiting for us. Its guns immediately began to fire, and on the first burst, he caught one of our port engines which began to blaze. It was a bit of tough luck. I was at a low level, and kept on going though I knew that the starboard outer was losing revs. The intercom went dead and we, in a peculiarly isolated world, went tearing like mad for the sea. Our bombs went and the rear gunner reported their flash, but we never did find out whether they made a hit.” // “Things were happening fast. I tried unsuccessfully to extinguish the blaze in the port engine. While I was trying frantically to keep control, Cy and Warrant Officer G.H. Bulley, another Canadian who was our wireless operator, were attempting to signal our position, and during these tense minutes, Cy Gray had to remove the Astro hatch which ultimately allowed him and Bulley to escape along with Flight Sergeant Ford, another RAF air gunner.’ // “The last thing I remember was noting that our altimeter showed a reading of 50 feet. Then came the crash – and how we survived I’ll never know. Ford, Bulley and Gray were shot through the astro hatch as the aircraft literally disintegrated. I had attempted to release my safety strap without success, and I know that the strain on my body was terrific. The impact had burst some veins behind my eyes, and when I surfaced, I could barely see, and then only through a red mist.” // “I could just make out the floating lamp and the shape of Gray’s dinghy which he had somehow managed to save when he left the aircraft. It was the only dinghy left to us, and it really looked good to me. Warrant Officer Bulley, who was the least hurt, had managed to inflate it, and I joined the other three in clinging to the side of the little rubber boat. There was really only room for one man in it, and since Gray thought I was suffering the most pain, he insisted that I get into it. We all clung to its sides for a few minutes, and were sick from shock. I know we were all dazed and befuddled.” // “I managed to get into the dinghy. Soon Ford began to groan. It appeared that he had a broken arm and a broken leg, so we attempted to get him in the dinghy. All this time, Gray was saying nothing about the agony he must have been suffering. He tugged and hoisted along with Bulley and myself to get Ford in the dinghy, and it was very difficult. I had gotten out of the dinghy to lend a hand but it seemed hopeless. I got back in on Gray’s insistence, and between us, we managed to pull Ford aboard. I sat flat on the dinghy floor and Ford sat on my legs in an inert heap. I couldn’t move.” // “Time wore on. In a few minutes, Gray spoke to tell us he had caught a fish. It apparently had been attracted by the blood that none of the rest of us then knew was slowly being drained from his leg. He tossed it in the dinghy.” // “There wasn’t much talk going on until about an hour had passed, and Gray spoke. He began to groan, and asked me if I could help support him. I think I have lost most of my leg, he said quietly. I slipped my arm through his Mae West and linked it over the guard ropes on the side, to support him as much as I could. A few minutes later, he lay back in his Mae West and said no more. I held him up until sunrise and when we could see, Warrant Officer Bulley removed Gray’s Mae West and felt carefully for a pulse. There was none. He was quite dead. We had to let his body float away.” // “At ten in the morning, an aircraft flying low passed directly over us and carried on its way. The crew hadn’t seen us. It was a moment of low ebb for our feelings, but we talked of many things. Flight Sergeant Ford remained lying across my legs, and neither of us could move. My legs had lost all feeling and I felt numb from the waist down. It wasn’t until dawn that I discovered that the back of my hand, just at the finger roots had been badly gashed and had apparently bled profusely. I hadn’t noticed it before due to the shock of the crash.” // “Both Ford and myself were convulsed with periods of violent shivering which we couldn’t control. It was cold and wet and miserable, and we rationed the small amount of food carried in our Mae Wests, with two portions going to Bulley who had been forced to remain in the water and one portion for Ford and myself. There was a little chocolate and some chewing gum. In order to keep circulation flowing, Bulley would periodically remove his Mae West and swim about. It seemed to warm him.” // “Our spirits were at a pretty low ebb as the afternoon drew on but at 3:15, we were spotted by a Sunderland flying boat, still in the vicinity indicated by Cy Gray’s distress signal. It was bang on. They came down on the water and hauled us out, with Bulley going first, Ford second and me last. It was a wonderful thrill. They flew us to England and hospital, and we are practically fit once more.” // “F/O Gray’s unselfishness and courage in the face of terrible suffering were an inspiration that kept us going despite what seemed hopeless odds.” (Each member of the crew received an award – F/L Whitley, the DSO, Warrant Officer G.H. Bulley, the DFC and Flight Sergeant J.W.C. Ford, the DFM.)