Sergeant John Walter Gifford Saunders 1324708
Title
Sergeant John Walter Gifford Saunders 1324708
Description
Recollections of John's service career, by his son Clive, including a letter from 44 Squadron Association. It describes John taking fellow RAF volunteers' compulsary swimming tests in their stead and his initial training in Rhodesia. He flew in Wellingtons before transferring to Lancasters with 44 Squadron. John had to bail out on his first operation after his Lancaster, ED348 'M'. was hit by flak. On this operation the crew members were Pilot Officer A C Smith, Flight Engineer Sergeant M O D Barrett, Navigator Sergeant J Dobson, Bomb Aimer Sergeant T J Profit, Wireless Operator Sergeant C M Meakin, Air Gunner A R H Wells and Rear Gunner Sergeant J W G Saunders. Three members of the crew, Sergeants Barrett, Meakin and Dobson did not survive the incident. John was captured by the Germans and became a prisoner of war during which time two tunnels were dug from the camp but both were discovered. Whilst a prisoner John befriended a Polish girl in an adjacent camp. He was liberated by the Russians and made his way to Switzerland from where he was repatriated.
Spatial Coverage
Language
Format
Three typed sheets
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
Identifier
BSaundersCSGSaundersJWGv10001, BSaundersCSGSaundersJWGv10002, BSaundersCSGSaundersJWGv10003
Transcription
[underlined] From 44 Squadron archives [/underlined]
Sgt J W G Saunders
Dear Clive Saunders,
I have looked at the operational records and have found the following:
Your father joined 44 Sqn on 5th September 1943, having just completed a course at No. 1661 Conversion Unit where his crew will have trained on the Lancaster.
His crew was:
Plt Off A. C. Smith pilot
Sgt M. O. D. Barrett flight engineer
Sgt J. Dobson navigator
Sgt T. J. Profit bomb aimer
Sgt C. M. Meakin wireless operator
Sgt J. W. G. Saunders air gunner
Sgt A. R. H. Wells air gunner
They flew training sorties on 11th, 13th and 28th September before their first operational sortie on 1st October. This was a raid on Hagen from which they failed to return. 12 of 44 Sqn aircraft took part in this raid. In some of the post flight reports, other crews reported a marked absence of enemy fighters and a weaker flak than usual in the Ruhr. Two other crews were hit by flak, making significant holes in their aircraft.
The Lancaster they were flying during their last flight was a Mk 3, ED348 ‘M’ and this was the only 44 Sqn aircraft lost that night. Three members of the crew were killed. They were Sgts Barrett, Meakin and Dobson.
No. 44 Sqn was the first to receive Lancasters and flew the first operation with them in March 1942.
I am sorry that this is all the information I am able to determine from our operational records. If any more details come to light, I will let you know.
Kind regards,
Henry Horscroft
Secretary
44 Sqn Ass’n
[underlined] My Memories From What I Have Been Told [/underlined]
Dad volunteered for the RAF at the age of 18 on the basis that if he was going to be called up, he may as well do something he would prefer to do, rather than end up in the ground forces.
Strangely, one of the requirements for the RAF was that you should be able to swim the length of a swimming baths. As dad was a good swimmer, this was easy for him to pass, in fact so easy, that he did the test several times, giving the name of other potential non-swimmer recruits each time so that they could get in to the RAF.
[page break]
The first part of their training took part in Rhodesia, where it seemed that they all had a great time – the photos look amazing. He told me of a task they had to complete, where they were divided into two groups, who were dropped off at an unknown location, where they had to navigate their was [sic] back to camp. Each group headed in different directions with different ideas on where to go, but both groups arrived back at camp at the same time!
The journey to Rhodesia was by troop carrying ship and he made notes of he [sic] experiences on board.
On return to the UK for operational duty, Dad was first in Wellington bombers, where I believe he completed several sorties. He was then transferred to the first ever Lancaster squadron, 44 Squadron, as a rear gunner or “tail end Charlie”. This was the most lonely part of the aircraft, isolated and cold. To keep him company, he had four Browning machine guns. He once passed comment that “hosing”, where you just held your finger on the trigger and aimed all over the place, was about the only way to hit anything! He was slightly deaf, which could well have been the result of four machine guns only inches from his ears.
On their first mission, the aircraft was hit by flack [sic] and one of the four Rolls Royce Merlin engines caught fire. In panic, the pilot, (who i believe was only 21) bailed out first, leaving the aircraft out of control, with a second engine now ablaze. Dad had to get out of the back of his gun turret to collect his parachute which was hanging in the fuselage. To his horror, two of his fellow air crew were arguing over who should have the only undamaged parachute, one saying “you have it, you have a family” and the other refusing the offer – niether [sic] of these young men survived. The pilot, who did survive, was later found hanging in a prison camp, I don’t no [sic] whether he took his own life through guilt, or whether he was condemned for leaving his position by a kangaroo court.
Dad got to his parachute to find that the rip cord had been severed though [sic] bullets and flak passing through the plane. With amazing presence of mind, considering that the plane was on fire and out of control, he cut through some of the cords that the rip cord would normally pull and jumped out of the side door, pulling the parachute out of its sack as he fell through the air – luckily it opened. He recalled looking down to see a large open field with a group of trees in it’s center [sic]. They had been told to never land in trees, but whatever he did to avoid them didn’t work and he landed right in the middle of them.
The airmen never had practice parachute jumps, as the air ministry didn’t want fit young men breaking limbs, so this was his first and last ever jump. He was eventually a member of the Caterpillar Club, where members were those who’s lives had been saved be [sic] a parachute (which were made of silk). It was also risky bailing out from the side door, as you could be hit by the tail end of the aircraft.
On his way down I am told by my Uncle Clive, that he lost a boot. Dad told me that he waited until dark to make a move from within the woods, but fell down a fox hole and sprained his ankle (having survived the jump without so much as a scratch!). He then managed to get to a small village where he thought he would be able to pinch a push bike to help him get home. However, dressed as an airman, it wasn’t long before he was picked up by the Germans. I believe it may have been a group of Hitler Youth, again, according to my Uncle Clive, who thought that he was picked up by them whilst he was sleeping.
He was initially put in solitary confinement. He was then put in a room with what appeared to be an Australian, but was in fact a [sic] impostor trying to gain information. Following this, he was transferred to the prison camp.
They dug two tunnels, although both were discovered. One was complete [sic] beyond the perimeter fence. It was found as a farmer went over it in his tractor and the tunnel
[page break]
collapsed. Both were filled with waste from the toilets. While in the camp he managed to befriend a polish girl in a nighbouring [sic] camp. Several letters were exchange [sic], many we have, including a scarf that she gave him as a memory of their friendship.
He told a storey [sic] about the toilets, a long plank of wood with holes along it, and a gutter beneath. A practical joker, mad [sic] a paper boat, set it on fire, and “sailed” it down the gutter, giving all sitting a nasty surprise!
They also took spokes from a German guards cycle wheels, to make knitting needles. The wheel collapsed when the German rode the bike.
Apparently, they used to sunbathe beyond the fence trip wire, as it was the only decent grass.
He was eventually liberated by the Russians, who simply opened the camp doors for them to make their own way home. Getting into groups, they made their way across Europe to Switzerland and then from there, were taken home.
His family back home in West Wickham, Kent, knew that he was alive and well, but lost all contact when he was liberated until he telephoned them from West Wickham railway station.
On his death, his ashes were scattered by the only flying Lancaster, accompanied by a Spitfire and Hurricane, on their way to one of the last Biggin Hill Air Fair’s. I could never understand why, but he was very fond of “The Lanc” and always wanted to see one whenever possible.
Sgt J W G Saunders
Dear Clive Saunders,
I have looked at the operational records and have found the following:
Your father joined 44 Sqn on 5th September 1943, having just completed a course at No. 1661 Conversion Unit where his crew will have trained on the Lancaster.
His crew was:
Plt Off A. C. Smith pilot
Sgt M. O. D. Barrett flight engineer
Sgt J. Dobson navigator
Sgt T. J. Profit bomb aimer
Sgt C. M. Meakin wireless operator
Sgt J. W. G. Saunders air gunner
Sgt A. R. H. Wells air gunner
They flew training sorties on 11th, 13th and 28th September before their first operational sortie on 1st October. This was a raid on Hagen from which they failed to return. 12 of 44 Sqn aircraft took part in this raid. In some of the post flight reports, other crews reported a marked absence of enemy fighters and a weaker flak than usual in the Ruhr. Two other crews were hit by flak, making significant holes in their aircraft.
The Lancaster they were flying during their last flight was a Mk 3, ED348 ‘M’ and this was the only 44 Sqn aircraft lost that night. Three members of the crew were killed. They were Sgts Barrett, Meakin and Dobson.
No. 44 Sqn was the first to receive Lancasters and flew the first operation with them in March 1942.
I am sorry that this is all the information I am able to determine from our operational records. If any more details come to light, I will let you know.
Kind regards,
Henry Horscroft
Secretary
44 Sqn Ass’n
[underlined] My Memories From What I Have Been Told [/underlined]
Dad volunteered for the RAF at the age of 18 on the basis that if he was going to be called up, he may as well do something he would prefer to do, rather than end up in the ground forces.
Strangely, one of the requirements for the RAF was that you should be able to swim the length of a swimming baths. As dad was a good swimmer, this was easy for him to pass, in fact so easy, that he did the test several times, giving the name of other potential non-swimmer recruits each time so that they could get in to the RAF.
[page break]
The first part of their training took part in Rhodesia, where it seemed that they all had a great time – the photos look amazing. He told me of a task they had to complete, where they were divided into two groups, who were dropped off at an unknown location, where they had to navigate their was [sic] back to camp. Each group headed in different directions with different ideas on where to go, but both groups arrived back at camp at the same time!
The journey to Rhodesia was by troop carrying ship and he made notes of he [sic] experiences on board.
On return to the UK for operational duty, Dad was first in Wellington bombers, where I believe he completed several sorties. He was then transferred to the first ever Lancaster squadron, 44 Squadron, as a rear gunner or “tail end Charlie”. This was the most lonely part of the aircraft, isolated and cold. To keep him company, he had four Browning machine guns. He once passed comment that “hosing”, where you just held your finger on the trigger and aimed all over the place, was about the only way to hit anything! He was slightly deaf, which could well have been the result of four machine guns only inches from his ears.
On their first mission, the aircraft was hit by flack [sic] and one of the four Rolls Royce Merlin engines caught fire. In panic, the pilot, (who i believe was only 21) bailed out first, leaving the aircraft out of control, with a second engine now ablaze. Dad had to get out of the back of his gun turret to collect his parachute which was hanging in the fuselage. To his horror, two of his fellow air crew were arguing over who should have the only undamaged parachute, one saying “you have it, you have a family” and the other refusing the offer – niether [sic] of these young men survived. The pilot, who did survive, was later found hanging in a prison camp, I don’t no [sic] whether he took his own life through guilt, or whether he was condemned for leaving his position by a kangaroo court.
Dad got to his parachute to find that the rip cord had been severed though [sic] bullets and flak passing through the plane. With amazing presence of mind, considering that the plane was on fire and out of control, he cut through some of the cords that the rip cord would normally pull and jumped out of the side door, pulling the parachute out of its sack as he fell through the air – luckily it opened. He recalled looking down to see a large open field with a group of trees in it’s center [sic]. They had been told to never land in trees, but whatever he did to avoid them didn’t work and he landed right in the middle of them.
The airmen never had practice parachute jumps, as the air ministry didn’t want fit young men breaking limbs, so this was his first and last ever jump. He was eventually a member of the Caterpillar Club, where members were those who’s lives had been saved be [sic] a parachute (which were made of silk). It was also risky bailing out from the side door, as you could be hit by the tail end of the aircraft.
On his way down I am told by my Uncle Clive, that he lost a boot. Dad told me that he waited until dark to make a move from within the woods, but fell down a fox hole and sprained his ankle (having survived the jump without so much as a scratch!). He then managed to get to a small village where he thought he would be able to pinch a push bike to help him get home. However, dressed as an airman, it wasn’t long before he was picked up by the Germans. I believe it may have been a group of Hitler Youth, again, according to my Uncle Clive, who thought that he was picked up by them whilst he was sleeping.
He was initially put in solitary confinement. He was then put in a room with what appeared to be an Australian, but was in fact a [sic] impostor trying to gain information. Following this, he was transferred to the prison camp.
They dug two tunnels, although both were discovered. One was complete [sic] beyond the perimeter fence. It was found as a farmer went over it in his tractor and the tunnel
[page break]
collapsed. Both were filled with waste from the toilets. While in the camp he managed to befriend a polish girl in a nighbouring [sic] camp. Several letters were exchange [sic], many we have, including a scarf that she gave him as a memory of their friendship.
He told a storey [sic] about the toilets, a long plank of wood with holes along it, and a gutter beneath. A practical joker, mad [sic] a paper boat, set it on fire, and “sailed” it down the gutter, giving all sitting a nasty surprise!
They also took spokes from a German guards cycle wheels, to make knitting needles. The wheel collapsed when the German rode the bike.
Apparently, they used to sunbathe beyond the fence trip wire, as it was the only decent grass.
He was eventually liberated by the Russians, who simply opened the camp doors for them to make their own way home. Getting into groups, they made their way across Europe to Switzerland and then from there, were taken home.
His family back home in West Wickham, Kent, knew that he was alive and well, but lost all contact when he was liberated until he telephoned them from West Wickham railway station.
On his death, his ashes were scattered by the only flying Lancaster, accompanied by a Spitfire and Hurricane, on their way to one of the last Biggin Hill Air Fair’s. I could never understand why, but he was very fond of “The Lanc” and always wanted to see one whenever possible.
Collection
Citation
Clive Saunders and 44 Squadron Association, “Sergeant John Walter Gifford Saunders 1324708,” IBCC Digital Archive, accessed July 19, 2026, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/collections/document/43454.