Set,
Yes that was certainly done. Places like Croydon were vitually flattened by V1 flying bombs to save central London. But that was later in the war. I was thinking of this:-
BEAM BENDERS
No.80 (Signals) Wing 1940 -1945
by Laurie Brettingham
For the first time, the reclusive endeavours of the RAF's specialist 80 Wing, based at Radlett in Hertfordshire, appear in print in the form of a dedicated history.
The wing was involved in the delicate art of deception; charting and calibrating German navigation beams, and without raising suspicions, 'bending' them - sending bombers off course away from cities and strategic points.
Much of the work was tedious and all of it 'behind closed doors' but countless lives were saved and the contribution of 80 Wing to the outcome of the war cannot be overstated.
and from
http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/jeremy_condliffe/folks13.htm
The Germans used radio beams, in the forms of dots and dashes, which
merged into a continuous note when an aircraft was on its target, and could
release its bombs. When the bombers passed over Mow Cop on their way to
Manchester and particularly Liverpool, the Mow Cop station interfered
with those dots and dashes, so that they gave the bomber crews the wrong
signal. "In effect, we bent the beams", Jim explained.
The result was that the bomber unknowingly released its deadly cargo
away from its target, hopefully over open countryside, where no-one would
be hurt and no damage inflicted, at least, not on our war effort.Jim says
one of their biggest successes they had was when bombers were so wildly
misled by the Mow Cop signals that they continued to Ireland and dropped
their bombs there!.
and from
http://www.halisp.net/listserv/manowar/0214.html
R. V. Jones, CH, CB, CBE, FRS, wartime intelligence scientist and
Professor
of Natural Philosophy, University of Aberdeen, 1946-81, died in Aberdeen
on
December 17 aged 86. He was born on September 27, 1911.
When, in June 1940, an obscure Air Ministry scientific officer, R. V.
Jones, was told to report to the Cabinet Room where Churchill was
convening
a meeting, he at first thought that his summons was a joke. Although he
had
been working for some months on Germany's innovative aerial weaponry
Jones
had no idea that he and his research had become a matter of such
pressing
concern at so high a level. But the new Prime Minister - a man of very
different kidney from his predecessor - was alive to the vital
importance
of winning the scientific war at all costs. Abandoning all
considerations
of rank in that august company, he invited this extraordinarily
young-looking man to tell the War Cabinet everything he knew about the
German capability to bomb Britain.
Jones explained to the meeting that Germany had perfected techniques by
which its bombers could fly along radio beams to bomb targets with
hitherto
unimagined precision. Britain would be vulnerable to pinpoint attack in
any
weather and at night. This was at a time when RAF attacks conducted in
such
conditions were missing their targets by a margin of several miles.
"When
Dr Jones had finished," recorded Churchill, "there was a general air of
incredulity". As a result Jones was given all the resources he needed to
develop ways of combating this menace, and the bomber was bested.
Churchill
revelled in what he called "The Wizard War" and always acknowledged
Jones
with gratitude as "the man who broke the bloody beams".