RCAF Aviation History: Wing Commander George Clinton Keefer, DSO and Bar, DFC and Bar, Netherlands Flying Cross, French Croix de Guerre with Gold Star
Wing Commander George Clinton Keefer, DSO and Bar, DFC and Bar, Netherlands Flying Cross, French Croix de Guerre with Gold Star
(Bill McRae Photo)
Squadron Leader Ian Ormston on the left and Squadron Leader George Keefer on the right, show off a pair of German Shepherd pups at RAF Tangmere, UK, in the months leading up to the invasion of Normandy. Both are wearing the Distinguished Flying Cross beneath their wings.
George ClintonKeefer was born in NewYork of a Canadian mother and an American father. George spent part of hischildhood in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island. After receiving a scholarshipto study Mechanical Engineering at Yale University, he enlisted in the RCAF inOctober 1940, receiving his “wings” in April 1941. He hadsoloed after only four hours instruction and graduated at the head of his class.Keefer was quickly posted overseas to an OperationalTraining Unit and then to RAF Squadron No 274 flying Hurricanes in the MiddleEast. He returned to Europe in May of 1943 and flew Supermarine Spitfires withthe RCAF’s No. 416 and No. 412 Squadrons.
During the course of the war, Keefer rose to the rank of Wing Commander and flew three tours of operation accounting for 12 enemy aircraft destroyed, 2 probables, 5 destroyed on the ground, with 9 others damaged and over 60 enemy vehicles and ground installations destroyed.‘Johnnie’ Johnson spoke very highlyof Keefer in hisautobiography, “Wing Leader.”
Wing Commander George Keefer was flying leader of No. 125 Spitfire Wing under the command of Johnnie Johnson who had justbeen transferred from No. 127 Wing and promoted to Group Captain. In his book 'Wing Leader' Johnnie tells this story about "The bravest man I've ever known." (S/L Wally Conrad, who flew with both of them, claimed that was an understatement).
"We found a lot of Huns during the latter half of April. We destroyed fighters, bombers, transports, Stuka dive bombers, trainers, and a bunch of seaplanes we'd found floating in a lake. We could not catch the Jets in the air but we knew they were operating from Lubeck on the Baltic Coast. We paid special attention to this airfield, shooting the Jets down when they took off or came in to land. Some of the enemy leaders showed flashes of their old brilliance but the rank-and-file were poor. One evening George Keefer led one of the squadrons on a sweep round the far side of the Elbe and I led a finger-four down sun from him. We swung toward an airfield neatly camouflaged in the midst of woods. Heavy flak bracketed us and George led us into the cover of the low sun. On the airfield I saw a squadron of Messerschmitts about to take off. Five minutes later we returned in a fast dive from the sun. The Bf 109's were still there. Hundreds of light flak guns joined the heavy barrage against us. My heart sank. Probably we all thought the same thing: the war could only last a few more days. The pilots Bf of the 109's below had probably left their cockpits for the engines had stopped. What were the chances of getting through the flak now that the gunners were roused? I reckoned they were about 50-50.
George said, "Graycap, I'm going in with my number 2 (F/O Trevarrow). Cover us will you?" I wanted to say, "Is it worth it?" but only muttered: "Okay George."
The two spitfires got smaller and smaller as they went down in a fast dive. Their Gray-Green camouflage merged into the spring greenery below and for a second or two I lost them. But the gunners on the ground still saw them, and the whole airfield seemed to sparkle with the flashes from the guns. We saw the Spits again when they streaked over the boundary of the airfield. We saw George's Cannon shells bouncing on the concrete. I shouted into my microphone "Up a bit George you're under deflecting!" Then his shells ripped into the last Messerschmitt in the line. It caught fire, its ammunition exploded, and the Cannon shells slammed into the next 109. In a matter of seconds, the whole lot were blazing, and a great spiral of white smoke curled up from the airfield.
"You all right George?"
"Fine Graycap. Am climbing up."
"Red 2?"
"I've been hit sir but she's flying" replied the wing man.
"Lead him home George and we'll cover you" I instructed. I twisted my neck for a final look at the airfield. All 11 Messerschmitts were burning fiercely. It was the best and bravest strafing attack I had ever seen...
On 27 July 1943, S/L Keefer, who had been in command of No. 412 squadron RCAF for about 6 weeks, was leading them on a late afternoon sweep 15 miles over France, when the engine of his Spitfire, packed up. He managed to make it over the French coast and was roughlyfour miles north-west of Cayeux, at 1000ft, when he baled out. Having landed safely in the water and inflated his dinghy, Keefer began to paddle for the English coast, but it was already 6pm and although the alarm had been raised, poor weather conditions hampered efforts to rescue him. Keefer paddled for six hours until he was finally picked up by a Supermarine Walrus of the Air-Sea Rescue Service at 11.45pm.
By the time he retired from the RCAF in 1947, George Keefer had flown more Ops(468) than any other Canadian pilot except Stan Turner (500). He joined the management team of Canadair, eventually rising to become their Vice-President. In 1968, he bought ‘Plastal’ (today Avior) an aerospace composites manufacturing company based in Granby, Quebec, which he ran very successfully until his death in 1985, in Montreal. (Kenley Revival)
