The Reluctant Bomb Aimer

“I won’t go! I’m not going!” Bomber pilot Edmund Kluczny (nicknamed “Captain Cool” by his crew) was horrified when he heard his bomb aimer’s outburst. Tonight’s target would take them deep into Germany’s heavily-defended industrial area. The pilot needed his crew inside their Lancaster and ready for takeoff, but the bomb aimer was refusing to get on board. This was a problem that Captain Cool needed to solve, and fast.

Edmund Kluczny was a farm boy from northern Alberta who served as a bomber pilot with RAF 90 Squadron in World War Two. During the last year of the war, he flew thirty-five missions over enemy territory. A few months before his death in 2013, I interviewed him here in Invermere, British Columbia and he gave me this story he had written himself. 

The oil painting above shows the bomb aimer’s position in the front turret of a Lancaster. The artist is John Bryce, and this is part of a collection belonging to the Royal Air Force Museum.

The photograph below is of Ed Kluczny in his flying gear.

The Reluctant Bomb Aimer

By Ed Kluczny

My bomb aimer Johnny was a big, good-looking kid from Winnipeg, a bit vain about the social standing that his “wings” brought him. But, as his skipper, I had already experienced John’s problem. In a serious situation, he was inclined to panic. As we left the briefing hut, he told me he wasn’t joining tonight’s operation. Then he charged down the path alone.

This would be our third mission and the first two had been anything but a “piece of cake.” The sheer terror of those first two trips was causing a reaction from Johnny that needed to be dealt with, if we were to do our job – or even hope to survive.

Later, at the mess hall, there was no sign of Johnny. Maybe he was in the wet canteen, looking for some liquid courage. No, that was out. The canteen wasn’t open at this time of day. He must have gone straight to our hut, maybe to take a nap.

From the mess hall it was a short walk through a wheat field to our hut. When I arrived, the hut was empty. I dug out the sweater I intended to wear from my kit bag, and sat down to transfer the briefing details to a chart, to orient myself on tonight’s route.

By this time the hut was filling up as the crew arrived. They were openly discussing the hazards of tonight’s operation. But where was Johnny?

I didn’t tell the rest of the crew about Johnny’s outburst, but it was no use trying to turn the discussion to anything else but tonight’s trip. We were all too “full of it.” Probably they noticed Johnny’s absence, but nobody was making a point of it.

Finally, it was time for our shuttle out to the plane. Armourers were loading bombs into the Lancaster’s open bomb bays. Johnny’s job was to check the arming of the bombs after they were all loaded. We were not carrying the massive blockbuster tonight, but smaller bombs, backed up with incendiaries.

(Here’s a bomber being loaded with rows of incendiaries on each side of the bomb bay, designed to start fires wherever they landed.)

In the air, the bomb aimer’s role was crucial. He was the one who aimed and pressed the button that released the bombs over the target. But where was he?

As skipper, I was responsible for having the crew ready for action, and we couldn’t head out one man short. The rest of us completed our pre-flight checkups and the clock crept towards takeoff time. It was now too late to look for him, and anyway, where would I look?

There were no phones out on the field. Information was distributed by the omnipresent Tannoy – the stationwide intercom – with loudspeakers scattered around the station. Finally I dashed for the nearest transmitter, trying to compose a message that would reach Johnny without alerting the authorities.

“Sergeant Johnny! Sergeant Johnny! Report at once to V for Victor. We have a problem and we need your solution NOW!”

Only Johnny and the rest of the crew would understand my words.

Johnny heard the message, and it worked!

It appealed to his better instincts – to his close relationship with the crew, and possibly even to his vanity. It sparked the realization that we depended on him and needed him, that he was a vital part of our crew, just as was every other member.

In a few minutes he came rushing up to our dispersal, still dragging on bits of his flying gear. One crisis overcome.

There was no time for recriminations. Straight to the pre-flight checks. I even ordered a few re-checks just to keep everyone busy, with no opportunity to confront Johnny about his tardiness.

In a few minutes, we were taxiing out, up and away to Stuttgart, Germany. We had to keep a close watch for other aircraft of our own, and when we reached the coast of Europe, enemy fighters.

I soon had Johnny down into his position in the nose of the aircraft, manning the forward guns. I kept calling on him to help our navigation by reading the map.

(The bomb aimer must indeed have felt vulnerable, lying on his stomach in his transparent “blister” in the very nose of the aircraft.)

Once again, the flak proved to be vicious and obscene, but thankfully the enemy fighters were busy with other targets. We managed to dodge both the flak and the searchlights.

I kept us busy so that the wrenching, numbing fear welling up from our guts only got high enough to make our hearts pound, but didn’t make it as far as our brains.

After an eternity of this, the navigator announced we were minutes from our assigned target. His words were confirmed by the buffeting we were feeling from the flak bursts, but at least we had made it this far with four mighty Merlin engines still performing their power symphony.

(This photo shows the difficulty of striking the target at night, especially when the aircraft is surrounded by bursting flak and tracers from the anti-aircraft guns).

Then both Johnny and the mid-upper gunner spotted our target, which was marked with flares from the Pathfinders, the advance aircraft that identified the target. At this point, Johnny took over the navigation.

Hunched over his bomb sight, he guided our approach with directions: “Port . . . port . . . straighten out . . . a touch to starboard . . . now, straight and level!”

The endless few seconds from “Straight and level” to “Bombs away!” were always a nightmare for me, because there was nothing I could do to avoid danger without jeopardizing the success of our operation.

Finally, it came: “Bombs Away! Let’s get the hell out of here!”

And we did! Fortunately we made it back to base safely.

The next morning, Johnny was up early and down to the intelligence section, where he had made the acquaintance of a couple of girls who worked there, assessing the aerial photographs. These girls, by the way, were often higher-ranking officers than the men.

(This photo shows a Women’s Auxiliary Air Force officer using a stereoscope to examine the photos for bomb damage. This is an occupation dear to my heart, since the heroine of my novel Bird's Eye View works as a photo interpreter just like this one.)

They showed him the best “blow-up” target photo from the previous night. It was the third in a string of five photos taken on every bombing run, triggered by the bomb release. If the bomb sight and the plane were accurately aimed, the photos showed where the bombs had landed.

The girls arranged the photographs in something called a “photo ladder.” The photos showing the bombs that landed farthest away from the target were on the bottom, and the closer you got to striking the target, the higher up the ladder your photos were placed.

Lo and behold, our enlarged print was a BULLSEYE!

It was the best bomb placement of any aircraft in the squadron, placed on top of the display for all to see and admire!

All the credit went to Johnny. And he never demonstrated any panic again!

                                                            * * * * * *

Edmund George Kluczny was born on November 14, 1921 in Empress, Alberta and grew up on a homestead near Wetaskiwin. After graduating from high school in 1938, he began cooking at a forestry camp at Buck Lake before joining the Royal Canadian Air Force on June 3, 1942.

He did his training in Alberta, and earned his wings at No. 5 Service Flight Training School in Claresholm, Alberta, on May 28, 1943. Before going overseas, he married his sweetheart Maxine Watson.

Ed sailed on the Ile de France, and docked in Glasgow, Scotland, on July 1, 1943. He was assigned to RAF 90 Squadron and successfully flew thirty-five missions over enemy territory. He earned the nickname “Captain Cool” among his crew members for keeping a level head in the most dangerous situations. Ed was decorated with the Distinguished Flying Cross for his “high skill, fortitude, and devotion to duty.”

Here he is, standing in the centre of his crew, the one with the moustache. You can easily see the “bomb aimer’s blister” on the nose of the aircraft.

After the war, Edmund ran the Buck Lake general store before enrolling at the University of Alberta in Edmonton, and training as a teacher. He taught school in the Edmonton area until he moved to the Columbia Valley in the late 1970s. In later years he took up speed walking, which no doubt enhanced his robust good health.

In 1997, Ed travelled to England on a backpacking trip. When he arrived in Walsall, a town near Birmingham, he looked up his former wireless operator Tony Anson in the telephone book. The two enjoyed an emotional reunion, and were interviewed by the local newspaper.

Here's a photo of the young pilot seated in the cockpit in 1944.

In 2008, Ed visited the Lancaster bomber at the excellent Bomber Command Museum in Nanton, Alberta, where he sat in the familiar cockpit one last time.

(To read my blog post about this iconic aircraft, click Love Those Lancasters.)

Edmund was an inspiration to seniors everywhere. He competed in speed walking events and won numerous gold medals with the Seniors Games from 1989 until 2012. Ed remained active right up until 2013, when he died peacefully at the age of 91 years.

Rest in peace, Edmund Kluczny.

* * * * *


Ed Kluczny's wonderful story, along with twenty-seven other original articles from Wartime Wednesdays, are now available in printed book form.

To read more about the book, click: My Favourite Veterans: True Stories From World War Two's Hometown Heroes. To order a signed copy for $35.00 Canadian, email me at or call me at 250-342-1621.

* * * * *


The Star Weekly was a Canadian newsmagazine published by the Toronto Star. During the Second World War, a beautiful colour illustration appeared on the cover each week with a wartime theme. I love this one from January 24, 1942 showing kids pelting a snowman that looks like Hitler! To see my entire collection of Star Weekly covers, click: Star Weekly At War.

Bird's Eye View

  • Bird’s Eye View is my fact-based novel about a Saskatchewan farm girl who joins the air force and becomes an aerial photo interpreter in World War Two. This Canadian best-seller is available through any bookstore, and also as an e-book and an audiobook. To purchase online, click here: Bird's Eye View.


  • Wildwood is my contemporary novel about a young woman from the city who inherits an abandoned farm in northern Alberta, on condition that she and her little daughter live there for one year, off the grid. She is inspired by the diary she finds in the house, written by the original homesteader. Wildwood is available through any bookstore, and also as an e-book. To purchase online, click here: Wildwood.

My Favourite Veterans

Letters From Windermere

  • To subscribe to my new monthly blog which started in 2019, titled Letters From Windermere, describing my writing life, travels and hobbies, enter your email address in the small yellow box under "Subscribe By Email" at the top right-hand side of this page.‚Äč

Wartime Wednesdays

  • All my Wartime Wednesdays stories written from 2013 to 2018 are available to read on my website, indexed by subject and title. To see the complete list, click here: Wartime Wednesdays.


Share this post  

Read More:

Back to the Blog

comments powered by Disqus


Welcome to Letters From Windermere, a collection of news, notes, and nostalgia. You may also read my previous wartime stories by checking the index below.

Follow me by Email

Enter your email address and my newsletter will be sent sent straight to your inbox. I won't share your address with anyone else!

Pre-order the Book


Read it here