1 25 10 https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/934/36536/MLovattP1821369-190903-75.pdf 51c3fbced3b1e3bd9c7237f2cb79c94a Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Lovatt, Peter Dr Peter Lovatt P Lovatt Description An account of the resource 117 items. An oral history interview with Peter Lovatt (b.1924, 1821369 Royal Air Force), his log book, documents, and photographs. The collection also contains two photograph albums. He flew 42 operations as an air gunner on 223 Squadron flying B-24s. <br /><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/1338">Album One</a><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2135">Album Two</a><br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Nina and Peter Lovatt and catalogued by Barry Hunter. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2017-09-27 2019-09-03 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Lovatt, P Transcribed document A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Transcription Text transcribed from audio recording or document A REMINISCENCE OF THE FLYING CHARACTERISTICS OF MANY OLD TIME AIRCRAFT. BY:- Air Marshal Sir Ralph Sorley, K.C.B. O.B.E. D.S.C. D.F.C. F.R.A.e.S. INTRODUCTION. Since the end of [deleted] [underlined] 19 [/underlined] 34 [/deleted] 1914, when I joined the Royal Naval Air Service I have been fortunate enough to fly as pilot some 170. different types of aircraft as well as handle in the air a few more and to travel as passenger in a number of others. It has occured [sic] to me at this late date and at the age of 73. to try to record my impressions of some, if not all, of these machines as far as my memory will allow. Fortunately it is good and with the aid of my Log Books, in which only sketchy notes were made at the time, and a few books of reference and many photographs I will do my best to highlight the variations and contrasts between one and another, as well as the conditions of flight over these fifty six years. The dates given are those when the type was flown. Although I am not the only one who flew them, many of which were prototypes which never entered service, it is inevitable that opinions may differ about their peculiarities, but I give only my own opinions which I hope may be of interest to some of the past, more of the present, and perhaps a few of future generations. This saga covers mainly the reciprocating engine era, with a few contrasting jet types which followed, and those mostly commercial. I ended my piloting days with introduction of the Jet, but with the unfailing aid of N.E. Rowe. C.B.E. (Nero.) an engineer of great technical integrity first met when technical officer at Martlesham and who in 1943 became my Director General of Aircraft Development, I had something to do with the planning of new type aircraft and engines to suit the sub-sonic and early super-sonic era. In digesting what follows the reader is asked to look for the various yard sticks of progress such as weight, power, speed, climb and materials which mark the amazing strides made during the last sixty years of aviation. I think the text will speak for itself in these matters. Much of my varied experience of aircraft was gained from two postings to the Aircraft and Armament Experimental Establishment, first at Martlesham Heath, Suffolk, 1925 – 27. and later at Boscombe Down, Wiltshire in 1940. These, following a year at Marine Aircraft Experimental Establishment, Felixstowe, in 1924, led me along the paths of Designers and Manufacturers from all of which, and from whom, one naturally acquired a lot of practical knowledge. On leaving Boscombe this stood me in good stead when appointed Assistant Chief of Air Staff to the great Viscount [page break] 2. Portal, in charge of Technical Requirements; and thereafter on becoming Controller of Research and Development in the Ministry of Aircraft Production, later called Supply. These thumbnail sketches touch on the aeroplane and only mention their engines, but disregard almost completely the contemporary developement [sic] of all those subsiduary [sic] pieces of equipment which in more recent terms form a ‘weapons system’ of great complexity, which is where we stand to-day. [underlined] DECEMBER 1914. [/underlined] Having been interested in flight since about 1912 as a schoolboy, my first introduction to aeroplanes I could touch and begin to fly was at Eastchurch, when at the tender age of 16, I had been selected as a Probationary Flight Sub Lieutenant and reported there to the Commanding Officer, Major E.L. Gerrard the Royal Marines, I spent my first night sleeping with a real aeroplane in it‘s [deleted] s [/deleted] hanger, so one can say the long marriage was consummated correctly. By the luck of the draw I was allocated to a certain well-known pre-war Australian pilot as my instructor who shall remain nameless, but more of this as the story unfolds. 1 [underlined] SHORT ‘PUSHERS’ – 50 h.p. and 70 h.p. GNOME. Biplane. [/underlined] These were of the S.38. type. They had a span of sixty feet and were therefore very lightly loaded per square foot of wing area. They also had ailerons which were not interconnected but which hung down vertically until sufficient speed had been attained on the ground to lift them up horizontally when they then became effective. They also had a front elevator attached to the nose of the nacelle, but which had little or no effect as such, but was a help in lining up the horizon. They were light on all controls and were pleasant to fly, but with such Iight loading they were liable to bounce into the air at take-off and landing and one had to be very quick to 'blip' the engine into life to save a stall. The one I first learned on was a side-by-side dual control, others had the instructor and pupil separated fore and aft. All were ‘wheel’ [page break] 3. control laterally, and quite light, and whether from inexperience or diffidence of my youth I treated them with great respect. Evidently too great for my instructor who, when I failed to bring up a dropped wing quickly enough to his liking would yank the control over so that we were well over on the opposite bank in a flash. He soon reached the stage actually of standing up in the cockpit and threatening to hit me over the head! After experiencing this performance several times I made bold enough to ask Sir Frank Mclean, who was in charge of instruction whether I could change my instructor. He seemed to understand, and I then went dual with John Alcock who saved my bacon, or there would not have been this to write about. A contrast in personalities. The 50 h.p. and 70 h.p. Gromes had a habit of breaking their connecting rods, and it was not long before I experienced a sound of tearing metal and a quick return to earth. Neither engine lived up to it's horse power rating and at 1100 revolutions a minute one could just stay in the air: 1150 was a bit better, and 1200 was flat out. These engines had no throttle and the art of 'blipping' the ignition on and off by means of a press button switch on the control wheel was difficult near the ground in a light breeze when the aircraft was so easily wafted upwards by the slightest up-current, or as a result of a bounce. On the whole they were nice to fly although underpowered. By accessing the developed horse power of the '50’ at 38 h.p. and that of the ‘70' at 57 h.p. (figures I seem to remember) and taking the all-up weights of the two aircraft as 1380. lbs. and 1490. lbs. respectively, then the weights per horse power work out at 36 lbs. and 26 lbs. which is heavy by any standard. The speed range of the former was 35 to 42 m.p.h. and that of the latter 38 to 57 m.p.h. I quote these figures at the begining [sic] as a contrast to those at the end of the piston engine era, when 8 lbs. all-up weight per horse power was common in 1944. By then too the speed ranges were measured in several hundred miles an hour. This only indicates the vast stride made in the development of aircraft and engines in the intervening thirty years. [page break] 4. 2. [underlined] MAURICE FARMAN LONGHORN. – 70, 80, or 100 h.p. RENAULT. (BIPLANE). 1915. [/underlined] Often known as ‘the flying birdcage' this too was a very lightly loaded machine, with front elevator on curved outriggers much further forward than on the Shorts. It had what was known as a [deleted] s [/deleted] lifting tail and having no tailplane adjustment could become unmanageable if it got into a steep dive. It was a perfect lady in all other respects and literally floated through the air and was pleasant on all controls. The Renault had a crackle of exhaust and could be fully throttled down, and when on the glide there was only the swishing of the wind to be heard through the many wires and struts. Being French the throttle operated in the reverse way to the British, that is to say to open up the power one pulled a sort of door bolt back towards one and to shut down pushed it forward. Quite the opposite to nature or instinct. The cockpit was well protected from the wind and the forward view was excellent. The passenger, or pupil sat higher and behind the pilot and as there was no dual control the most one could do was to lean over the instructor and to put one's hands on the 'spectacles' which controled [sic] the ailerons. This form of lateral control was well ahead of its time, as it [inserted] is [/inserted] almost commonplace nowadays. I remember the finish of the woodwork and how beautifully everything fitted into very small spaces. I see from my book of reference 'The Flying Book end Aviation World Who’s Who’ of 1914 that the all-up weight is given as 1720 lbs. This for the land plane seems a little too much, but see later the seaplane. It wasn't long before I had a forced landing due to the fuel tanks not being filled (no such thing as a cockpit check then) but such a lady gave me no alarum [sic] and we settled like a nesting bird. I may say that in these early years the time of any flight was in minutes, thirty or forty or one hour was a long trip and ten or fifteen was average. 3. [underlined] BLERIOT MONOPLANE. – 80 h.p. GNOME. 1915. [/underlined] I had a flight in this aeroplane piloted by Lieut. Commander Vaughan-Fowler. The view was anything but good and from the pilot's position ahead the wing blanked out any view of the ground almost completely for landing. It was a warped wing control which I was [page break] [inserted] Rewrite [/inserted] 5. unable to feel for myself, but otherwise the aircraft gave one the feeling of frailness. It gave little impression of speed, and all I can say about it is I am glad I did not have to go to war in one, although it had a long history of success in obtaining height, speed, and distance records since 1909, and also it was on this type that the French pilot Pegoud first looped the loop and introduced other forms of aerobatics. 4. [underlined] MORANE LOW WING MONOPLANE. – 80 h.p. LeRhone. 1915. [/underlined] At the same time I had a flight in this aeroplane with much the same effect. Although it seemed faster it was not one well suited for military use and again I was glad I never had to fly one in action. It had a moving tailplane i.e. no fixed surface and thus was very sensitive fore and aft. There was no real space for a passenger who sat with the pilot between his legs and clutched him round the middle. Apart from the fact that it had a distinct rate of climb, and was quick on the lateral warp control it was a very limited purpose machine, but much used for racing pre-war and by the French in war. I took my 'ticket' (Royal Aero Club Certificate No. 1089.) at Eastchurch on the I2th. of February 1915. on a Short pusher No. 63. Age 17. and one month. 5. [deleted] [underlined] WRIGHT BIPLANE. (OGILVIE). – 60 h.p. E.N.V. 1915. [/underlined] [/deleted] Before I go on, perhaps I should describe just what was entailed in obtaining the 'ticket' – that coveted little blue card on which one's photograph and signature had to be appended, for in those days it was, in fact, an aviator's passport, on which is printed in [deleted] three [/deleted] six languages a request:- 'The Civil Naval and Military Authorities including the Police are respectfully requested to aid and assist the holder of this certificate.” It also served the same purpose as does a driving licence, without which one was not licenced to fly. The test required was relatively simple, consisting of flying a [page break] [inserted] Rewrite [/inserted] 6. few figures-of-eight within the confines of the aerodrome, to demonstrate ability to turn right and left: to then switch off the engine and make a vol pIanè from a given height and land on a circle marked out on the ground, the aircraft to come to rest within it. That test of prof [deleted] f [/deleted] iciency was about as enlightening as are our present ‘O’ level tests in proving today one has been educated? 5, [underlined] WRIGHT BIPLANE. (OGILVIE). – 60 h.p. [deleted] E.N.V. [/deleted] [inserted] N.E.C. [/inserted] 1915. [/underlined] I also had a short flight with Alec Ogilvie in this re-vamped Wright which he had altered and re-engined with an [deleted] E.N.V. [/deleted] [inserted] N.E.C. [/inserted] which made a better machine of it. We sat out in the open in front and as far as climb was concerned we did not rise very far off the ground. The engine was running badly and we only did a circuit of Eastchurch aerodrome with wing tips nearly touching the ground in turns. He was one of the founders of Eastchurch and held ‘ticket' NO. 7. 6. [underlined] BRISTOL BOXKITE. – 50 h.p. GNOME. (BIPLANE). 1915. [/underlined] This I flew in (or should it be on) with a fellow pupil as pilot at Eastbourne. It staggered off the ground with two up and had no climb at all. We came face to face with the railway embankment at Polegate which is in the form of a triangle, the embankment being the three sides and the centre being the same level as the surrounding fields. We pulled up over the first side and then sank down almost to ground level in the centre. With barely enough room to gather speed enough to 'hoick' over the next, we just scraped over the rails by inches. Such was the performance of that machine, although the pilot in this instance had something to do with it. He was a cocky type and I feel sure wanted to impress me which he did. 7. [underlined] BRISTOL TRACTOR. – 80 h.p. GNOME. (BIPLANE). 1915. [/underlined] My first tractor, and a delightful machine with a good performance and it handled well on all controls. It was a modified T.B. 8. type fitted with ailerons instead of warp and all machines of this type had a four wheel undercarriage although the nose wheels were only to prevent [page break] [inserted] Rewrite [/inserted] 7. one tipping up on one's nose after landing. It's top speed reached 75. m.p.h. Designed by a Rumanian, Henri Coanda, who had a great eye for a cleanly shaped aeroplane I think it was among the first to attain good performance. If I remember correctly the wing section design incorporated the Philips entry. The weakest part of the design was a balanced rudder without any fin, the rudder post being unbraced as in the first B.E. 2. I see the only twelve of them were built and delivered by October 1914 although the licence was given to build them abroad to Deutsche Bristol-Werke, Halberstadt, and Louis Breguet in France just before the war. As far as I know none were built and the type died as a trainer only when I flew it at Eastbourne. 8. [underlined] MAURICE FARMAN SEAPLANE. – 100 h.p. RENAULT. (BIPLANE) 1915. [/underlined] I went onto seaplanes at Calshot where there was an assortment of various types. The Maurice Farman seaplane differed from the landplane in that it had not the front elevator, and was mounted on two floats made of thin three-ply. These were flat bottomed with no step and it was difficult to 'unstick' because of this, with any load sometimes impossible. One was used for anti-submarine patrol based at Bembridge, Isle of Wight, and there I experienced a very different performance to that of the landplane. The 'observer' sat on the petrol tank behind and carried in it's wooden box a 20 lb. Hales bomb. This he was intended to launch over the side onto the unsuspecting submarine. We had to taxi a long way out into Spithead for take off near the forts, by which time the engine was nearly red hot, consequently what little power there was became even less and in a calm sea and little wind any take off was a speculation. Once in the air there was insufficient power to climb and on one occasion I went from the Isle of Wight to Eastbourne not ever above two hundred feet, so much so that when it came to turning round l had to land because of loss of height. Not a very efficient weapon of war. 9. [underlined] WIGHT PUSHER SEAPLANE. – 160 h.p. GNOME. (BIPLANE) 1915. [/underlined] I should say that none of the seaplanes here described were fitted [page break] 8. with dual control, and one just listened and watched for the differences in handling and flying them on and off the water. This Wight was a type built by Samuel Wight of Cowes, designed by Howard Wright and was no small toy to let a boy of 17 lose on. It must have weighed about a ton and a half and a double row Gnome engine of fourteen cylinders required some strength to start. The proced[deleted]r[/deleted]ure for this was to switch on one half of the engine i.e. seven cylinders, after dopeing them through the valves with neat petrol. One then turned the whole thing by a crank handle at the back of the nacelle. Once it fired you then hurdled over the back seat to reach the pilot’s controls right up front. Once there the immediate action was to switch in the other bank of cylinders and 'blip' until clear of the beach, and if lucky and pointing out into clear water, taxi out. Apart from this weighty and athletic complication, this aeroplane had two other unusual features. The first of these was a double cambered wing; that is to say the top surface had not a single contour on the top, but was intended to be two cambered wings joined together [deleted] ed [/deleted] at mid-chord. This I may say seemed to have no beneficial effect. The other was two very long floats, each of which had no less than three steps on which to plane the water. Because of the great length of these floats one progressed from one step to the other until one got her up on the rear step. By then, in order to keep the forward steps out of the water one was pulling back hard on the elevator control and all of a sudden the thing leapt into the air at an astonishing angle, which required immediate forward push on the control to prevent a bad stall. If too much, then the whole contraption was back on the water again and the same process had to be repeated. Truly a remarkable aeroplane. In the air it felt very much as it looked, a large cumbersome machine, not in this instance under powered but just cumbersome. There was even a worse and more unpleasant Wight, even a bit bigger and heavier with, I believe?, a 200 h.p. Salmson engine. Having the same characteristics but being more cumbersome it was even worse to fly, and my log book says “no likee much – landing rotten." [deleted] 10. AVRO CIRCUIT OF BRITAIN 510 [symbol] 150 h.p. SUNBEAM. (BIPLANE) [/deleted] [page break] 9. 10. [/underlined] AVRO CIRCUIT OF BRITAIN '510' – 150 h.p. SUNBEAM. (BIPLANE) 1915. [/underlined] This was the prototype No. 881 which was purchased by the Admiralty before the War and another five were built thereafter. It was a most pleasant aircraft to fly, and if only the engine had been up to it's job it might have had a bigger future. But it lacked power and as soon as the revs. fell off then there was no performance. In the air it felt right, and my first flight seems to confirm this as it was one of one and a half hours, which for that time was a long flight. With a better engine it would have made production figures. These were days when engine development was at it's earliest stage and Louis Coatalen of Sunbeam's was an early stater [sic] as Aero engine designer. 11. [underlined] SOPWITH CIRCUIT OF BRITAIN TYPE. – CONVERTED AT CALSHOT TO 120 h.p. AUSTRO)DAIMLER (BIPLANE). 1915. [/underlined] A truly delightful aeroplane with, for once, enough power to make things happen. It was a one off machine built for the race and never saw the light of day in Service, nevertheless a good specimen of design and a forerunner of Sopwith development of many military types to come. 12. [underlined] SHORT TRACTOR SEAPLANE. – 135. h.p. SALMSON (CANTON UNNE). (BIPLANE). 1915. [/underlined] I flew this type on joining H.M.S. Engadine early in 1915. As usual all one had was a few minutes flight as a passenger before being pushed off solo. It had flat-bottomed floats and the same drooping ailerons as the earlier Shorts, but in this case one gathered speed sooner than before and so had lateral control almost at once. It was a really good aeroplane and handled easily and responsively for its size. The [inserted]e[/inserted]ngine was on the heavy side for the power but was beautifully designed and made, and very reliable. In many hours of flying them I never had any engine trouble. They were difficult to ‘unstick’ with a full load in a calm but the floats stood up to a pretty pounding without breakage; if anything gave it was chassis struts that bent. Once with a heavy load I careered a long way through a choppy sea with water being thrown right over the engine when in the end the wooden propellor burst, which was not surprising. These aircraft were [page break] 10. embarked in ships which were converted cross-channel ferries and were supposed to operate from open water. This was highly optimistic as there was no weather reporting, and conditions were either too rough or too calm for any certainty of take-off, and it was a highly inefficient way of conducting operations. See later under Sopwith Baby. In addition they were fitted with a wireless set called ‘R[inserted]o[/inserted]uset’. This was mounted on top of the petrol tank and as it had a rotary spark gap revolving in the open making a continuous arc, I always thought it more than dangerous. Many an hour did I spend in helping to overhaul those Canton Unee’s [sic] (one crank on to which a master connecting rod was affixed, with the other rods attached to the web of the master; a lovely piece of work). It was, of course, a French engine but licensed into England to the Dudbridge Iron Works, Stroud. I once did a test with a destroyer going ahead of me pumping oil on to troubled waters to see if by taking off along a path of oiled water we could find it noticeably calmer, but it did not seen to make much difference. These Shorts had no forward or aft firing guns and so were completely defenceless, but they were capable of carrying a few bombs weather permitting. Perhaps at this point I should say how the ground or deck handling of these seaplanes embarked in ships was carried out. First they were stowed folded in a hangar. The latter was a heavy steel structure built on to the qu[inserted]a[/inserted]rterdeck of these small ships, mostly under 2,000 Tons, which then gave them the most dreadful seaworthy characteristics. When folded it was possible to stow about four or five aircraft which could be wheeled out tail first and one at a time on to the quarterdeck. The wings were then spread and locked into position by steel pins which had to be secured from turning to prevent them unscrewing. The engine was run up to test power and afterwards shut down when the pilot and observer took their places. A crane, one on each after corner, was trained over the centre section of the aircraft and the heavy hook attached to a wire sling and the order given to hoist out. Once clear of the deck the aircraft was slung outboard and at the same time turned so that it faced the side of the ship while being lowered down to sea level, and mechanics armed with long bamboo poles fended off the wings from touching the [page break] 11. side. This was fine as long as there was no tide running but if so then as soon as the upstream float [missing letter]ouched the water the wing tended to dig in so one had to be very quick in releasing the hook to allow the aircraft to drift quickly down the ships side. The proceedure [sic] for returning on board was similar in reverse. The machine had to be taxied slowly nose on to the side of the ship until the floats nearly touched it, when the engine was switched off, and if well judged the crane hook would be hanging just over the centre section ready for the pilot to stand up and hook it on to the slings. Easy when not at anchor, but with a tide running past, very good judgement was needed to aim sufficiently up tide to give time to leap up and grab the hook as one drifted past, hook on, and be quickly hoisted up before the tide took charge. 13. [underlined] SHORT TRACTOR SEAPLANE. – 225. h.p. SUNBEAM. (BIPLANE). 1916. [/underlined] This type followed the one above and was a much bigger aeroplane with the biggest engine so far designed, but not more reliable. The machine was somewhere between 60 and 70 ft in span, this time with interconnected ailerons but still with flat-bottomed floats, especially as it was intended to carry a torpedo. It handled very well in the air for such a large aircraft and succeeded the 135. h.p. Canton into Service, which I was sorry to leave as it was less heavy on the hand and I thought a better looking aircraft. 14. [underlined] MORANE PARASOL. – 70. h.p. Le RHONE. (MONOPLANE). 1916. [/underlined] As commented on the [inserted]e[/inserted]arlier Morane in which the wing so obstructed the view of the ground, in this type that had been overcome by raising the whole wing well above the heads of the pilot and observer. It was mounted on a tripod of steel tubes at the centre, called a 'cabane' but still had warp lateral control although an improvement on the original it was not a very effective military machine, but was used quite a lot in France by both British and French. 15. [underlined] SOPWITH MILITARY BIPLANE. – 100. h.p. MONOSOUPAPE GNOME. 1916. [/underlined] As with the above I flew in this aircraft Montrose. It had been [page break] 12. developed from the Round Britain seaplane, by the look of it, and suffered from a poor view and lack of any armament. Unlike most rotary engine Installations which were by a shaft extending aft through one or two bearing plates with the rotating engine overhung, this had one bearing plate at the back and another right in the nose carrying a front extension shaft, with the engine rotating in between them. 16. [underlined] SOPWITH SCHNEIDER – 100 h.p. MONOSOUPAPE GNOME. (BIPLANE) 1916. [/underlined] This was a derivet[deleted]it[/deleted]ive of the original Sopwith Tabloid, which fitted with floats won the Schneider Cup Race at Monaco in 1913. It was fitted with a single float and tested on the Thames at Sunbury or Teddington. It proved unstable on the water and the single float was sawn down the middle and the two halves made into twin floats and mounted on a wider undercarriage. Later, so successful was the type that it was produced in some quantity for the R.N.A.S. I first flew it from Killingholme on the Humber. At that point the river runs out at anything up to 6 knots and we were on the South bank. The prevailing wind was across the river and consequently one took off into wind but across a fast moving current. The effect was as if taking off with a great deal of drift. However if one corrected for drift and turned into what seemed the apparent wind then disaster overtook. One had to ignore the opposite bank of the river and let her rip. The casuality [sic] rate there was not inconsiderable, and it certainly was not an ideal place to instruct anyone on a new type. The 100 h.p. Gnome was insufficient to give it a first class performance but it was a very lively little aeroplane, and very soon a more pleasant type came about as a result of more power being available. 17. [underlined] SOPWITH BABY SEAPLANE. – 110 h.p. or 130 h.p. CLERGET (BIPLANE) [/underlined] Having aileron control [deleted] i [/deleted] instead of warp it was much more pleasant to fly. It had the top centre section cut out above one’s head, in which a Lewis gun was mounted to shoot upwards. The difficulty with this was loading the gun or trying to clear a stoppage it was necessary to look upwards for a time, and on one occasion I went into a spin when doing so. For such a lightly controled [sic] machine strangely it had a wheel [page break] 13. for operating the ailerons. The floats were still of very light construction and in the Engadine we stiffened the bottoms with extra carpentry. But this still left the tail float easily punctured if it should strike the water during landing, which happened to me on two occasions with the result that at the end of the landing run the machine slowly turned over backwards. This weakness was never remedied, for reasons unknown, otherwise it was a first class aeroplane and a joy to fly. The method of starting the engine however was most unpleasant. To do so one had to pull the control column back behind one’s backside and then, bent double in the small cockpit turn the engine by a crank handle. If lucky this might require only slight effort but if, as sometimes happened the darned thing refused to fire one was soon in a bath of perpiration [sic] when dressed in thick flying clothing and it is a wonder there were no cases of pneumonia following. 18. [underlined] FAIREY HAMBLE BABY – 130 h.p. CLERGET. (BIPLANE) 1917. [/underlined] Was a copy of the Sopwith Baby but had full span flaps which could be lowered by a hand wheel for take-off and landing. As far as I could see they had little or no effect except to spoil the otherwise good handling qualities of the type, because the flaps also operated as ailerons over the full span. 19. [underlined] B.E. 2c. – 90. h.p. R.A.F. (BIPLANE) 1917. [/underlined] One of the early types, supposedly inherently stable. I cannot say I noticed its stability except that it was slow on the controls. Unlike the first of the type, the B.E.2., it now had ailerons instead of warp and if stalled [deleted] w [/deleted] was prone to fall into a spin pretty rapidly. Badly windscreened it was very draughty for both pilot and observer (by this time the passenger had come to be recognised as the observer) although the fitting of adequate armament fore and aft had yet to come. Any such was improvised and as the observer was in front of the pilot, nicely wedged in between the planes, his field for any fire was only outwards at about 45 degrees ahead or over the pilots head aft. It was far too sedate for war, and thus got a bad reputation. [page break] 14. 20. [underlined] B.E. 2c. – 90. h.p. R.A.F. (BIPLANE). 1917. [/underlined] A strict derivative of the 2.c. but having only one bay of interplane struts with a big overhung extension of the top plane beyond them; It had a slightly better performance and was a little lighter on control. I thought it a distinct improvement on the earlier type but it fell out of the hand very suddenly if stalled. Again not a good military type but both did valient [sic] service against long odds. 21. [underlined] SOPWITH PUP. – 80. h.p. LE RHONE. (BIPLANE). 1917. [/underlined] This was a classic little fighter, very lightly loaded and very light on control which just sprang into the air and went on going up quite rapidly. It was the first real fighter type designed for the purpose, armed with one Vickers gun mounted in front of the pilot's face and firing through the airscrew. Fitted with a rather clumsy mechanical interrupter gear, which was the forerunner of the much better Constantinesco oil operated system. Developed directly from the original Tabloid but with the requirements of a fighter from the first drawings it was a greatly liked and highly efficient machine, which led the way to the later Camel. [deleted] 24. [underlined] SOPWITH 1 1/2 STRUTTER. – 110. h.p. CLERGET. (BIPLANE). 1917. [/underlined] [/deleted] [deleted] Designed [/deleted] 22. [underlined] SOPWITH CAMEL. – 110. h.p. CLERGET. (BI[inserted]P[/inserted]LANE) 1917. [/underlined] The Camel was the outstanding fighter of the first war, and with superior power over the Pup it was a real war machine. Fitted with two Vickers guns mounted in front of the pilot's face, and Constantinesco interrupter gear it was only rivaled [sic] by the S.E. 5. which came [deleted] some time after it. [/deleted] [inserted] about the same time i.e. end of 1916, [/inserted] It was a joy to fly because of it's quickness on control, but because it was under ruddered it responded to the torque of the engine to the right to such an extent that no rudder at all was needed to turn righthanded, and if given any it went into a right hand spin in a trice. In fact almost full top, or left rudder, was necessary to prevent a spin but so many first comers to the type ended up that way and usually [page break] 15. hit the ground before they realised what had happened. Once that characteristic had been learned there was no quicker or better fighter in manoeuvre. The guns were mounted in a kind of hump which restricted the view of the pilot forward, and he also sat rather too far under the top centre section to give him much view upwards. But in spite of these faults it was either loved or hated by those who flew it. Both constructionally and as a flying machine the Camel was a simple design and being very strong for its weight stood up to a good deal of bad handling. A classic type indeed. 23. [underlined] DE HAVILAND 4. – R.R. 275.h.p. EAGLE. (BIPLANE) 1917. [/underlined] But this too was as great a clasic [sic] in its class as a two-seater day bomber. It was a large aeroplane for its time which had a performance almost as good as a 'Scout'. It could carry a load of bombs, 2 X 230 lbs, and was a dream of an aeroplane to fly. It had fuel for four or five hours and was as reliable as a taxi-cab. I did very many hours on this aeroplane ranging far from base and was never once let down. Those fitted with the B.H.P. engine (Beardmore-Halford-Pullin) were not so good on performance or reliability. This engine was a bitch to start and on one occasion during a long flight round the Aegean I spent about two days before the darned thing would condescend to fire. The very first D.H. 4’s had unbraced tailplanes but after a few fatal accidents the fin and tailplane were braced to each other by double streamline wires. The B.H.P. version was notable for having a four bladed propeller the width of the blades being no more than four or five inches [deleted] wide [/deleted], and I do not recollect seeing any such others. 24. [underlined] SOPWITH 1 1/2 STRUTTER. – 110. h.p. CLERGET. (BIPLANE) 1917. [/underlined] This type was designed as either a two-seater or a single seater, the former was supposed to be a fighter and the latter a bomber. Very soon they were all two-seaters with one Vickers gun firing forward and a Scarf ring for the observer and I think they carried 2 X 112 lbs bombs. The pilot sat in front right under the top centre section but owing to the big stagger he had a very good view downwards over the leading edge of the bottom plane. If I remember correctly there was a glass [page break] 16. panel in the floor of this cockpit marked with adjustable lines, through which the sighting of the bombs was supposed to be done. I don't know if it was used much because of the difficulty of flying the aeroplane with one's head inside the cockpit and steering over an unseen target, hoping it would come into view in the panel at the last moment. They were light on control and very pleasant to fly, and although a largish single bay wing structure, they were strong, and had a relatively good performance. Much used in France and other theatres of war, they followed the earlier traditions of Sopwith and were leaders in their class. In the Aegean where I first flew one, they formed a mobile circus and moved around the Salonica front. 25. [underlined] ALL STEEL HENRI FARMAN. – 135 h.p. SALMSON CANTON UNNE. 1917. [/underlined] [underlined] (BIPLANE) [/underlined]. Equipment of a Greek Squadron in the Aegean. I flew it only once and did not take to it greatly. It was about the first design to be constructed in steel tube and certainly looked cumbersome, and felt so in the air. It was a good weight lifter and somehow pushed itself through the air faster than might be expected. Not many were used by the British and as a type it had a very limited life. I cannot say I enjoyed this experience, especially as the engine stopped dead on the glide down from 3,000 ft and so I had to make a 'dead stick' landing on a not very big aerodrome. 26. [underlined] D.H.9. – 230 h.p. B.H.P.. (BIPLANE). 1917. [/underlined] But a shadow of the D.H. 4. the only improvement being the cockpit arrangement, in that both were close together and further aft clear of the wings. With the early B.H.P. engine there was not the same power and so the splendid performance of the '4' was not repeated. Apart from that it had good handling qualities and carried 2 x 230 lbs. bombs as did the D.H.4. The B.H.P. had been redesigned by Siddeley-Deasy a motor car firm, but that did not increase it's reliability at first and as a bomber it did not score points. However after the war the type was used by Cobham and others in the development of Empire routes and many other commercial uses. The unu[deleted]a[/deleted]sual narrow chord propeller [page break 17. was not used again on the Siddeley Puma, as the B.H.P was renamed, and was fitted with the conventional wide chord two-blad[deleted]d[/deleted]er. In spite of the shortcomings the type was very pleasant to handle. 27. [underlined] D.H. 9a. – 400 h.p. LIBERTY (BIPLANE) 1918. [/underlined] A very superior machine with plenty of power. It had the D.H. 9. layout but with the old D.H. 4. nose and was as agreeable to fly as was the 4. The engine was of American design and to that extent it had coil ignition, a strange inovation [sic] to us accustomed to the original magneto of German origin. This meant that one switched on by two switches, one for starting and one for full advance. The mechanics pulled the propellor round over compression, which was very heavy work, and when just near compression the mystic word ‘contact’ was shouted. At that the pilot switched on one switch and the mechanics, sometimes two or three joining hands, run away with the prop. If lucky the engine fired and the job was over; if not then it could go on and on. But woe betide the pilot who in anxiety or by mistake switched on both switches at once, for if so the engine back fired and the prop. reved [sic] round in reverse and usually hit the arm of the man who was nearest with the result a broken wrist or forearm. The D.H. 9a. continued life in the Service for about 15. years and among it’s many credits was the introduction of the Desert Air Route from Cairo to Baghdad in 1921 and many other operations in Iraq and the North West Frontier. It was a wonderful workhorse. 28. [underlined] F.2a. Flying BOAT. – 2 ROLLS ROYCE 375 h.p. EAGLE (BIPLANE) 1919 [/underlined] This very large type was evolved from the Curtis America and was used from Felixstowe and Yarmouth for long patrols over the North Sea during the first war. It weighed over five tons and had an endurance of over seven hours, so it was most advanced for it's time. I don’t know how many were built but I think not more than one hundred. I flew one after the war and with a span on 83. feet it felt a real ‘cathedral’ to me. I thought it slow on controls and the take off from calm [page break] 18. water could go on for miles before unsticking. Although it did good service and was a successful flying machine it was not my type; I have always prefered [sic] small, or medium sized aeroplanes, and at Felixstowe I devoted my time there to such. 29. [underlined] D.H. 6. – 90. h.p. R.A.F. (BIPLANE) 1917. [/underlined] [inserted] [symbol] [/inserted] Often known as the 'clutching hand’ because of the very pronounced camber of the wings. It was the answer to the instructor’s prayer in those days when pilots were so urgently needed, because it was devoid of vices and you could do with it what you wanted. In fact it was too placid and did not do those things which got you into trouble in most aeroplanes. Designed as a sort of hip bath, the two cockpits were as one, as a result there was the closest contact between the instructor and pupil. I remember one night when teaching my observer to fly we sailed round several aerodromes in the moonlight and each time we came to the Mess we throttled back and floated silently past blowing an old motor horn. Everything about this aeroplane was dictated by cheapness and ease of production; the wings were sawn off square, and the engine left uncowled. It would fly at less than 30. m.p.h. with a top speed of only 75. and was very easy and not unpleasant to fly strangely enough. With this sort of performance it was a simple matter to fly backwards in any wind over 30. m.p.h. and in 1919. this I used to delight in doing up and down Aldeburgh High Street, achieved by just throttling back at the up wind end and opening up at the other. I see that just under 2300. were built and the all-up weight was only a little less at 2027. lbs. It was a unique design typical of De Havilland who always designed functionally and without frills, to achieve the required purpose. 30. [underlined] BLACKBURN KANGAROO. – 2. ROLLS ROYCE 250. h.p. FALCONS (BIPLANE) [/underlined] A large span aircraft, the most notable feature of which was the long protruding nose away out beyond the wings. The pilot felt very isolated and had nothing much in front of him to line up with the horizon. In fact it was one of the earliest forerunners of the present [page break] 19. day pilot's position in big aircraft – miles out in front with the wings hardly in sight behind. This caused the first questioning in my mind (or perhaps bottom) as to how the human can instinctively and instantly adjust itself to the height and angle of the cockpit above the ground. Sometimes one is almost touching the ground with the seat of one's pants (as in light aircraft or gliders) and sometimes sitting twenty feet above it. And yet one can change from one to the other immediately and judge take off and landing with no apparent difficulty or difference. It is just instinctive. Designed as a general purpose seaplane, the floats were too heavy for it, and [inserted] it was [/inserted] used as a land plane for anti-submarine patrols, I can't say more than it felt clumsy and uninteresting, and I am glad I did not fly it operationally. 31. [underlined] AVRO 504. – GNOME, LYNX, LUCIFER, RENAULT, etc. (BIPLANE) 1919. [/underlined] The classic of all training aircraft. Although designed as early as 1913, it never developed into an operational type except in a small way at the outbreak of the War but became the standard trainer. It introduced the Gosport method in 1915/16. devised by SMITH-BARRY, the foundation of pilot instruction ever since. In competent hands it was possible to do any manoeuvre, and I only wish I had been so properly instructed by going through an instructors course. One could not but love the responsive controls, and these held good whatever engine was installed, and thes[inserted]e [/inserted] were many. I think it was a better machine with the Gnome than with some of the others because the Gnome was smother [sic] and gave it some of it's great character. I remember being given experience of up-side down flight at the hands of Captain Hinchcliffe (a pilot who then had but one eye, and who later on was to be one of the early casualties of flying the Atlantic) and unused as I was to gravity affecting me as it did, proceeded to slip through the belt round my waist and nearly deserted ship. Amazed as I was to do banked turns inverted I cannot say I enjoyed that experience. 32. [underlined] HANDLEY PAGE V/ 1500. – 4. R.R. 350 h.p. EAGLES (BIPLANE) 1919. [/underlined] [page break] [inserted] [symbol] [/inserted] 20. This experience was gained in the tail turret of what was then a gigantic aeroplane and apart from marvelling at the way in which such a vast contraption handled: to say nothing of the effect it had on the bathers on Margate beach when flown at no feet: I cannot give any constructive comments on the type. 33. [underlined] BRISTOL FIGHTER. – R.R. 275 h.p. FALCON (BIPLANE) 1919/23. [/underlined] THIS outstanding aeroplane I first met in No. 24. Squadron at Croydon doing VIP Communication flights, and it was a type to which one could become affectionate from the outset. It had no vices and a performance which at the time was achieved with great ease. I cannot remember any feature which was dislikeable and little did l but know it, I was to do many hundreds of hours on it over the deserts and mountains of Mesopotamia, Kurdistan, Palestine and Trans-Jordan and it never let me down. It was on this aircraft that I made the grave mistake of taking my rigger up on my tail-plane to a height of 1500. feet – quite by accident – and returning us all to earth complete in one piece during 1920. But that is another story. This mistake was repeated by two other pilots, on a Spitfire and Lysander, twenty years later during the Second War. A truly great type. 34. [underlined] R.E. 8. 160 h.p. R.A.F. (BIPLANE) 1920. [/underlined] In the hot climate of Mesopotamia it proved to be a better aircraft then I had been led to believe from earlier hearsay. If anything the rapid stall became a little more rapid and had to be guarded against carefully; and the air cooled engine certainly did not like the high temperature and seized up engines could force land one in very unpleasant places, especially with an Arab Rebellion underneath. Nevertheless until we were re-equipped with Bristol Fighters they did a remarkable work horse job from Persia to the Persian Gulf and up the Euphrates at Abu Kamal against the Syrian incursion. [page break] 21. 35. [underlined] BRANDENBURGER SEAPLANE. – 260. h.p. BENZ. (MONOPLANE). 1924. [/underlined] A German aeroplane much used by them to attack shipping off our North Sea Coast. After the armistice one was retained at Marine Aircraft Experimental Establishment, Felixtowe [sic] . It was delightful to fly having a perfect view for pilot and rear gunner, and its big thumping engine pulled it through the air very gracefully. It had long strut-braced floats which unstuck quickly and easily and all controls were Iight and well harmonized. I gave it full marks as a sea plane and it was a real pleasure in the air. 36. [underlined] ATALANTA FLYING BOAT. – 2 R.R. 600. h.p. CONDORS. (BIPLANE) 1924. [underlined] A very large and cumbersome flying machine with a power loading somewhere above 20. lbs per h.p. As at the time I had decided that flying boats of this kind were not my particular cup of tea, I'm afraid I experienced it only as a passenger and took little real interest in it. 37. [underlined] FAIREY 3. D. – 450. h.p. NAPIER LION. (BIPLANE). 1924. [/underlined] A good general purpose aircraft usually operated on floats and robustly developed from an earlier version, and the forerunner of the Fairey 3.P. This too appeared first on floats, but later was adopted as a general purpose land plane on which I did many hundred[deleted]e[/deleted]s of hours based on Aden. Both these types had wing flaps which made lateral control heavy when in the lowered position for landing, but apart from that the 3. F. particularly had a very good performance and withstood a great deal of overload without showing much objection. One of the best General Purpose types introduced into the Service which did much of the route proving throughout Africa and Southern Arabia and the type which established Dick Fairey in big business. 38. [underlined] PARNALL PLOVER AMPHIBIAN. – 400. h.p. BRISTOL JUPITER. (BIPLANE). 1924. [/underlined] A nice little fighter type on floats, although in the air it felt rather flimsy and the centre section bracing slakened [sic] in any manoeuvre. [page break] 22. The amphibian feature was rather more in name than in substance, being only a small wheel which protruded a few inches below the keel of the floats and was quite useless for any aerodrome work. The type was an ende[inserted]v[/inserted]our to capture the Fleet Air Arm market but it did not succeed in competition against the Fairey Flycatcher. 39. [underlined] SUPERMARINE SWAN FLYING BOAT. – 2. 450. h.p. NAPIER LIONS. (BIPLANE). 1924. [/underlined] Mitchell’s first attempt at a twin-engined boat and I am not sure what market he had in view. It was a novel conception in that the hull had a vertical stem like a trawler and the pilots sat high up on top of the hull between the two engines; the interior was therefore unobstructed for passengers or any other load. It was quite delightful to fly and no longer the soggy cumbersome sort of flying boat I had experienced previously. However it soon appeared that it had little or no future although aerodynamically it was a big step forward. It was during the time that we were testing it at Felixtowe [sic] that one got to know Mitchell and his way of thinking which was to be a great asset to me later on at the time of the Spitfire. To follow the Swan he had ideas for what was to be the successful Southampton boat which did valiant work when later introduced into the Service and a Flight of four of them made the pioneer journey from England to Singapore; round Australia and back to Singapore and Borneo to Hong-Kong in 1927/8. 40. [underlined] VICKERS VALENCIA. – 2 R.R. 600. h.p. CONDORS. (BIPLANE). 1924. [/underlined] In competition with the Atalanta and just as cumbersome and underpowered and really had no future. It was tested with a C.O.W. gun mounted in the nose with the idea of shooting downwards at submarines, and if I remember correctly the gunner traversed this weapon when aiming on the bow or beam by standing on a little foot-rail completely outside the hull. An alarming experience to watch let alone perform. I did not fly this type. 41. [underlined] FAIREY FLYCATCHER AMPHIBIAN. – 400. h.p. ARMSTRONG JAGUAR. (BIPLANE). 1924. [/underlined] [page break] [symbol] 23. It was adopted by the Fleet Air Arm as their fighter. A more ungainly shape one could hardly imagine, the fuselage being broken-backed with a massive undercarriage for it's [deleted]s[/undeleted]size. However it was a pleasant aircraft to fly and did rather better than it looked. I flew the type as a seaplane and a land plane and of course the latter made a big improvement. Like the Plover it too had a small wheel protruding through the keel of the floats which only made the process of unsticking from the water more difficult. Just in order to see what use this [deleted] this [/deleted] amphibian device could be used for I made one attempt to take the aircraft off through the hangar and out through the front doors over the slipway at Felixstowe to show that it could be used on a concrete floor or deck in this way. Alas, my Squadron Commander caught me in the act of preparation, and that test was not done. 42. [underlined] ARMSTRONG WHITWORTH SISKIN. – 400 h.p. JAGUAR (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] At Aeroplane and Armament Experimental Establishment. 1925/27. An all metal fighter (except for fabric coverings) which had evolved in various stages of development at Farnborough by the end of the war, but had been completed when Fred Green joined Armstrong's. It was no more elegant looking than was the Flycatcher, but was very manoeuvreable [sic] and had a good performance in spite of its ungainly shape. I can testify to its strength as I had the unpleasant experience in a dual-controlled version of spinning first one way and then the other and finally inverted through 9,000 ft of cloud and then had time to straighten things up after breaking cloud mostly on my back at 1,000 ft. A further developement [sic] was the Siskin IIIs with a supercharged Jaguar on which we attained a full load ceiling of 30,000 ft for the first time. This was done with highly inefficient liquid oxygen equipment, equally inefficient heating for hands and feet, and with an outside temperature of minus 60 degrees Centigrade in an open cockpit. Sir John Siddley the engine maker wrote a short letter of thanks! In order to show the improvement the supercharger gave to the aircraft we did a freak climb with no load and attained 10,000 ft in four minutes, and 20,000 ft in just over eight minutes – a record rate of climb for those days. [page break] 23. [duplicated page number] 43. [underlined] GLOSTER GREBE. – 400 h.p. JAGUAR. (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] One of Folland's little beauties, like the Siskin it had grown through the development of the Nighthawk and previous Farnborough designs in which Folland had a big hand. Now chief designer at Gloster Aircraft he began a new sequence of fighters developed from the Grebe. It was a true delight to fly and made it's imprint on the Royal Air Force in a few Squadrons and was much loved. 44. [/underlined] HAWKER CYGNET. – 30 h.p. ANZANI-A.B.C. OR CHERUB. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] The first of Camm’s master pieces. The plan-form was a miniature lay-out which proved to be the foundation of many of his later designs. It was a glorious toy and from it I learned the first essential of pure gliding, because one day the propeller disappeared over my right hand top plane and I found myself with a screaming engine and no propulsion. The crank shaft had sheared completely and having stopped the engine from flying apart, I made my way downwards towards an open field. As the thing flew at almost no miles per hour it seemed to take an awful long time to reach ground level, but in turning to and fro on the final approach I must have let the speed increase to the dangerous level of about 30. m.p.h. and consequently floated too far across the field to avoid the nose coming to rest in the opposite hedge. I am glad to say with no damage except to my own nose, and regretfully that is the full extent of my gliding experience. Designed in 1924 for the Light Aeroplane Trials at Lympne, had it not suffered engine trouble it was in a class of its on and considering that it weighed only 798. lbs with two people and fuel it was indeed a marvel. 45. [underlined] D.H. 53. – 30. h.p. TOM TIT. (MONOPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] Another of the best of the light aeroplane types. Lovely to fly but of no commercial use, so D.H. thought, having no margin of load or performance, nevertheless a few were accepted for the Service to try out ab initio training on them. This formula of light weight and [page break] 24. very low power proved to be wrong which led D.H. to design a much more sensible aeroplane – the Moth. 46. [underlined] AVRO AVIS. – 30. h.p. TOM TIT. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] Also for the same competition and also inadequate. Although this one was designed later than the Avro Monoplane type 560 described below, and although the power allowed had been increased, it was still underpowered and of no use commercially. A nice little toy and we at Martlesham all enjoyed flying it, but mostly without a passenger. However like the D.H. 53. it led to the Avro Avian on the same lines as the Moth. This whole conception of what might sell as a useful civil type for travel or sporting activities was quite impracticable as there was not enough performance to safely meet either requirement. All these light aircraft types were designed round glorified motor-cycle engines of 600 c.c. to 1500 c.c. and they certainly churned out a lot of power at high revs for a great deal of unreliability. 47. [underlined] MARTINSYDE. F.4. – 400. h.p. JAGUAR. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] One of the war-time F.4.’s re-engined and made into a beautiful aeroplane although large in size for a fighter by contemporary designs. It was never put forward as a Service type but was on offer for foreign sale by Aircraft Disposals who had hundreds left over from the war. I always wonder why some foreign government did not acquire them as at the time it was quite outstanding with this engine. 48. [underlined] AIRCRAFT DISPOSAL CO. AVRO 4. – 140 h.p. AIRDISCO. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] A good old 504 re-engined with a V.8. engine made out of old Renault parts. It certainly brightened up the performance but I cannot say it was an improved aircraft over the original. It was not a winner as I do not think any were sold. 49. [underlined] AVRO MONOPLANE. – 30.h.p. TOM TIT. 1925. [/underlined] Another of the light aeroplane contestants previous in time to the Avro Avis and being thoroughly underpowered like all the rest was [page break] 25. just a bit of fun held together with sticking per and gum. [symbol] 50. [underlined] A.N.E.C. – 30. h.p. TOM TIT. (MONOPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] Yet another of these miniatures and by far the most interesting and entertaining. So it deserves quite a description. It was a single seater in which the pilot was fed into his cockpit through the centre section of the monoplane wing which was then closed down and fastened over his head. His view was then only to either side the dashboard blanking out any ahead. His bottom was very close to the ground as the two wheels were attached to the underside of the fuselage which had no undercarriage struts at all. It had a moving tailpIane, that is there was a no fixed stabilizing surface at all. The result was the most sensitive fore and aft control ever experienced and by breathing [symbol] in or breathing out it was so light on the stick that the little aircraft either leapt upwards or dived before one realised that the stick had been moved at all. The entrancing result of this was to watch it take off in a series of ups and downs which we soon christened 'pints'. Thus anyone even remotely heavy handed who was allowed to fly the aircraft was judged by the number of pints he drew before becoming master of his emotions. On one such occasion when lent to a certain friend, he disappeared into the distance beyond a belt of trees while still busily drawing off pints, until on failing to reappear again a search party found him completely upside down on top of a haystack and fortunately with no damage whatsoever. As there was no way of getting out except through the roof it was neccessary [sic] to lift the aircraft off the pilot. Those who had the joy of flying this unique machine were entered as members of the 'pint club' the subscriptions for which were enjoyed in the Mess. 51. [underlined] BEARDMORE WEE BEE. – 36 h.p. CHERUB (MONOPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] A development of the same theme only this time a two seater whereas the A.N.E.C. was for one only and lucky at that. The layout for entry and exit to the cockpits was the same but fortunately in this machine a fixed tail-plane had been designed to overcome the great fore and aft [deleted] ensit [/deleted] sensitivity. Nice to fly but no future. [page break] 26. 52. [underlined] RAYNHAM LIGHT AEROPLANE. – DOUGLAS. (MONOPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] Of all of them this one had less power than any, being a boosted standard motor-bike engine, and had nothing to recommend it in any way. 53. [underlined] PARNALL PIXIE I. – 30. TOM TIT. (MONOPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] Another toy completely under powered as usual. The majority of this class had top speeds about sixty or seventy m.p.h. and might be coaxed up to ceilings below 10,000 feet if one had the time and inclinati[missing letters] 54. [underlined] PARNALL PIXIE III. – 30 h.p. CHERUB. (MONOPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] A curious development of the earlier Pixie I. in that when installin[missing letter] more power they at the same time designed to be either a monoplane or biplane by the simple expedient of attaching a short upper wing. While it flew reasonably well as a monoplane the additional weight did not justify the alternative and like the rest, fun but no future. 55. [underlined] HAWKER WOODCOCK. – 400.h.p. JUPITER. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] An early post-war night fighter design by one Captain Thompson, before the days of Carter or Cam at Hawkers, but inherited by each. It was a viceless aeroplane although in its early stages a little flimsy. Nevertheless it was adopted by the Service in small numbers and later developed for the Danish Airforce as the Danecock. As a type it required a great deal of redesign before it was fully satisfactory, and although I enjoyed flying it later on in the Air Ministry Race at the 1927 Hendon Display it really was not an exciting aeroplane. 56. [underlined] GLOSTER GAMECOCK. – 400.h.p. JUPITER. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] A grown-up Grebe from the same stable and a really efficient fighter with a speed range of 49.m.p.h. to 153.m.p.h. maximum with a service ceiling of about 25,000. ft. I flew this type in the 1925 Hendon Display at which I was presented to His Majesty King George V in the experimental park. The following incident occured [sic] when His [page break] 27. Majesty enquired the performance of my aircraft. On being told the above figures he turned round to Queen Ena of Spain, who was accompanying him, and while beating a tattoo on the cylinders of my engine with his gold-mounted ebony stick, exclaimed "Ena, Ena, 150 miles an hour - - - bang, bang, bang, - - - 25,000. ft!” This type went into Service and was much liked but unfortunately became prone to wing flutter a nasty new pestilence that reared its ugly head at that period. This was overcome in due course and led Folland on to better things. [inserted] [symbol] [/inserted] 57. [underlined] BLACKBURN DART. – 450.h.p. NAPIER LION. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] A Fleet torpedo dropper nearly as clumsy as an elephant but controlable [sic] . As with so many aircraft designed to meet Naval requirements, they were cluttered up with everthing [sic] except the kitchen stove; usually of appalling aerodynamic shape; and consequently much down on performance. This comment does not refer particularly to the Dart but will perhaps be repeated as other Naval types are mentioned. The Dart had a ceiling of 10,000. ft which it attained in 37 minutes – hardly a rapid rate of climb – and a maximum speed of 90.m.p.h at that height. It was one of a number competing for an order which it won. 58. [underlined] FAIREY FAWN. – 450.h.p. NAPIER LION. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] A design to replace the General Purpose [deleted] the [/deleted] D.H.9.A. Very broadly evolved from the Fairey 3.D. It had the usual Fairey full-span flaps, and to meet a spasm of new safety requirements, all the petrol had to be carried externally in bulky tanks which protruded above the top plane. The biggest effect this had was to ruin any performance which the aircraft was likely to have, nevertheless it was ordered into Service for a few Squadrons. Not one of the best choices. 59. [underlined] BRISTOL BLOODHOUND. – 400.h.p. JUPITER. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] Designed as a Bristol Fighter replacement it had a speed of 125.m.p.h. and a ceiling of about 18,000. ft. It was one of the first types to have Frise ailerons which gave it rather a spongy feel, but they were very effective. The whole wing bracing seemed a bit on the light side and [page break] 28. indeed after a quite normal touch-down at Henlow the centre section bracing wires snapped and I found myself finishing the landing run with the whole of the top planes staggered forward on to the top of the engine. A very elegant arrival on a strange station! 60. [underlined] BLACKBURN BLACKBURN. – 450.h.p. NAPIER LION. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] Commonly known as the Bull. Another of the Navy’s inelegant contraptions, it had been devised from the Dart, but had a cockpit for two perched on top of the engine just in front of the top plane, and from the front making the nose shape look exactly like a bull's head. It was heavy and unmanoeuvreable [sic] and I do not believe that any subsequent aircraft were built. While mentioning animals I should also remember that with the introduction of the Napier Lion the service representative who travelled round units attending to its early teething troubles, became known as 'the lion tamer'. He was not the only one, for each engine and aircraft manufacturer had similar representatives and often they worked day and night to keep their products working satisfactorily in competition with the other. 61. [underlined] BLACKBURN BLUEBIRD. 36 h.p. BLACKBURNE. (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] A side-by-side dual controlled afterthought of the Light Aeroplane Trials, heavy for the type, [deleted] s [/deleted] thus hopeless, but later I believe re-engined with a much more powerful Genet with w[inserted]h[/inserted]ich it made one or two long flights in Africa. There is actually this one in existence today. 62. [underlined] AVRO ANDOVER. – 600 h.p. R.R. CONDOR. (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] Designed as a light troop carrier, alternatively an ambulance. It was a large ungainly aircraft weighing the best part of six tons relying on a single engine, in spite of that it was quite gentlemanly to fly with the pilot perched forward behind the engine and just in front of the upper wing. It could carry 12. people or 6. stretcher cases and apparently was thought of for use on the Cairo-Baghdad route; tried by lmperial Airways and found wanting. [page break] 29. 63. [underlined] BRISTOL BROWNIE. – 36 h.p. CHERUB. (MONOPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] Yet another of these Light Aircraft, this time an attempt to build in metal as well as wood and with the pious hope it might be suitable to the Service as a primary trainer. But again at full load it was hopelessly underpowered taking 53 minutes to reach a ceiling of 8500 ft. It was pleasant to fly as a single seater but quite inadequate to be taken seriously, although it won several money prizes in competitions. 64. [underlined] FAIREY FOX. – 400 h.p. CURTISS D.12. (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] An outstanding aeroplane which was to have a big influence on British design. Fairey had long been an advocate of building a really clean bomber, and the frightful shape aquired [sic] by the Fawn had driven him to America to try to show up the errors of bad streamlining. There he bought the rights to build the Curtiss D.12. engine, which at the time had the smallest frontal area for it's power of any power plant. He also aquired [sic] the rights to manufacture a twisted metal airscrew which became known as the Fairey-Reed. Having invested his own money in what he felt was right he then designed around this engine and propeller a beautifully clean bomber capable of carrying 500.lbs. of bombs. While the pilot’s view was not all it might have been, as he sat concealed behind the engine with a long flat nose streatching [sic] in front of him, however it certainly had a fine performance of just under 160 m.p.h. at ground level and 127. at it's ceiling of 18000 ft. Being an ungeared engine, take off seemed longer than usual and touch down at 65/67. rather faster. Except for the rather cramped space for the pilot and gunner the design was a step in the right direction and the Curtiss acted as a spur to Rolls Royce in their design of their Falcon engine of the same period. The Fox was accepted into Service in very small numbers and gave much pleasure as well as controversy. For instance, Fairey's insistence in making [deleted] h [/deleted] the nose flat along the top was not so effective in reducing resistance as was the drooped shape adopted by Cam in most of his Hawker types, which also gave the pilot a very much better view. [page break] 30. 65. [underlined] GLOSTER GORCOCK. – 450 h.p. NAPIER LION (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] A development of the Gamecock, with either a direct drive or geared engine. While it had a slightly increased speed, the heavier engine resulted in a rather sudden stall and when demonstrating at the Hendon Display I found it very prone to stall on top of a loop. It had a cylindrical radiator underslung between the undercarriage struts, which I am sure did no good to the aerodynamic cleanliness and the type was not adopted as a follow on to the Gamecock. 66. [underlined] VICKERS VIRGINIA. – 2. NAPIER LIONS. (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] The standard night bomber in service for a good many years, much grown up from the Vimy, it lumbered into the air at a remarkably low speed and continued to lumber through the air until it lumbered back to earth again. It was characterised by having very large wing area enabling it to carry a big load for a long time, but having said that it could neither be praised for looks or performance. I am glad I never had to serve in a Virgina squadron. In those days all landings were made with engines throttled right back and any pilot seen to use any power to assist his landing was said to ‘rumble' That silly practice was a hang over from the days of unreliable engines, so the pilot must always be ready to land without engine. A costly form of training carried on far too long, and many were the aircraft written off as a result. 67. [underlined] VICKERS VANGUARD. – 2. 600 h.p. R.R. CONDOR (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] One of a series of passenger and troop carrying aircraft evolved from the old Vimy, through the Vernon with two Lions, which type showed well during the opening of the Cairo-Baghdad air route. That type grew into this very much larger one, the Vanguard, I suspect with [deleted] an [/deleted] an eye on commercial sales, but I do not think it succeeded. This in turn was soon converted into the Victoria which was adopted by the Service as an effective troop carrier superceeding [sic] the old Vernon. None of these did I fly. [page break] 31. 68. [underlined] BRISTOL TRAINING & TAXIPLANE. – 120 h.p. LUCIFER (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] A nice gentlemans aeroplane, not adopted by the Service being a bit underpowered although used by Bristol's in their own flying Schools as one might naturally expect. As a Taxi it lacked the power to carry a pilot and two passengers. 69. [underlined] ARMSTRONG AJAX/ATLAS. – 400 h.p. JAGUAR. (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] A private venture Army Co-Operation Type put forward to take over from the Bristol Fighter, which it did in due course. It was quite an elegant aeroplane which performed it's functions well, having a ceiling of nearly 21000. ft. attained in only 35 minutes and a sea level speed of 142 m.p.h. Quite a step forward for the Army Co-Operationist's. 70. [underlined] BRISTOL BOARHOUND. – 400 h.p. JUPITER. (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] Another private venture competitor against the Atlas but it’s flying qualities were not nearly as good as they might be and it had a generally ill-defined clumsiness. There was also in this Competition the D.H. Hyena and the Vickers Vespa. 71 [underlined] VICKERS VIXEN. – 450 h.p. NAPIER LION. (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] Also a competitor against the Atlas and I believe a development of an earlier type, the Valpariso. The Vixen, although very pleasant to fly was not as handy for the Army Co-Operation job as the Atlas. It remains in my memory as causing the first con-trail any of us had ever seen, when flyin [sic] at or about it’s ceiling and that can't have been more than 20,000 ft. Viewed from the ground we all thought the aircraft was on fire but as it continued steadily on it’s way that was fortunately not the case. Then perhaps it might be either a leaking fuel tank or a boiling radiator, but when the machine eventually landed and we questioned the pilot anxiously he assured us that none of these things had occured [sic]. In fact we had observed the first phenomenon of what now a days is a common occurance [sic]. 72. [underlined] HAWKER HORSLEY. – 600 h.p. R.R. CONDOR. (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] A rather large and unresponsive aircraft, which when I flew it caused us to comment on a sluggish lateral control. It entered Service [page break] 72. (continued) and proved to be a very versatile torpedo-bomber. Indeed it carried 1,000 lbs. of bombs or a torpedo weighing 2150. lbs. with comparative ease. It was also used to attack the world distance record in 1927. achieving 3420. miles on the same day as Lindbergh flew for New York to Paris covering 3590. miles, so the record for Britain lasted only a few hours. It can be said that the Horsley was a good step forward from the unpopular Fawn, which it replaced and far [deleted] exce [/deleted] excelled. [page break] 32. 73. [underlined] BREGUET XIX. – 460 h.p. RENAULT. (BIPLANE) 1925. [/underlined] A bomber type much used by the French in which they set up a number of long distance records of many thousands of miles non-stop. So famous did the type become that we had one at Martlesham to test in this country and my comments on flying it were anything but complementary “Lord help the Frenchman”; literally solid on lateral control while fore and aft nearly as sensitive as the A.N.E.C. View bad on eye level and ‘buckets’ on landing and take off”. Not a good impression. As was the French custom the throttle opened in the reverse direction to our own i.e. to open up the engine one pulled the lever backwards towards one, and vice versa to shut it down. This led to it’s early demise when on a winter day on an icy tarmac a mechanic ran up the engine, and when the chocks began to slip he promptly pulled the throttle back, only to crash full into the hangar doors w[deleted]h[/deleted]ith it. I don't think that aeroplane was ever repaired. A Grave error! 74. [underlined] D.H. MOTH. – 60 h.p. CIRRUS. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] The epic outcome by De Havilland of the inadequate designs entered for the earlier Light Aeroplane Trials. D.H. decided that nothing less than 60 h.p. would produce a usable aeroplane, and with the help of Halford then with Aircraft Disposal Company designing a little vertical four cylinder engine, the components of which were made up of bits and pieces of old 70 h.p. Renaults left over from the war, the first of the great Moth family was born. It flew beautifully and even better when the Cirrus II & III gave it a little more kick. From then on the Moth was to prove a world beater, and provided a mount for many of the great individual pilots who used them to make long distance record flights across the world – Any Johnson – Lady Bailey – Jean Batten, to name but a few. The Moth was the foundation on which the great De Havilland Company was built up after the [inserted] first [/inserted] war. The design was essentially simple and therefore of low co[deleted]a[/deleted]st and there were no frills, even the air speed indicator being a spring operated gauge a[deleted]c[/deleted]ctuated by the pressure of the air on a flat plate. This policy of simplicity enabled it to sell below £1,000, and with a slightly uprated Gipsy engine well over a thousand aircraft were built. [page break] 33. Like very many others I flew Moths over the course of years in various parts of the world, but I think one incident is worth recording. While in Aden I was caught out by a sand storm when returning from an up-country landing ground. It became so dense that there was only just time to get back on the ground as best I could, which happened to be in a dried-up wadi. As the wind was blowing so hard it entailed landing the aeroplane in full flight and yet at no ground speed. Having successfully accomplished that arrival, and crouched underneath the plane eating and breathing solid sand for an hour or so, the storm passed on and only then did I see that one tyre had evidently been punctured. With the very limited run available to get out of the wadi I decided to deflate the other tyre rather than risk a swing on take-off. The dear Moth come off with hardly any run and landed back at Khormaksa on two rims, and with not a little consternation at being long overdue. 75. [underlined] PARNALL POSSUM. – 450.h.p. NAPIER LION. (TRIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] A very ambitious piece of unorthodox design being a triplane in which the engine was mounted internally on top of the fuselage driving on either side a propeller driven by shafts and gearing along the leading edge of the centre plane. In spite of its novelty it flew quire well, but I suspect that the weight penalty of the engine and propellor installation left very little for military load, and it was never subsequently developed for Service or other use. 76. [underlined] D.H. HYENA. – 400.h.p. ARMSTRONG JAGUAR. (BIPLANE). 1925 [/underlined] Another contestant against the Atlas for Army Co-operation requirements. Although a delightful aeroplane to handle, it was unsuccessful in that competition, and following on the same fate as the earlier D.H. Dormouse in the two-seater fighter reconnaissance trials D.H. began to lose interest in Military designs. 77. [underlined] HAWKER HORNBILL. – 600.H.P. R.R. CONDOR. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] A very fast single seater fighter design with a direct drive engine, but unfortunately was directionally unstable resulting in a continuous [page break] 34. hunt on the rudder. This deficiency of rudder and fin area also made steep turns difficult to execute at high speeds. It was a remarkably clean aeroplane but there was little room in the cockpit for pilot movement. Its performance however was outstanding for the time, being 187.m.p.h. at sea level with a stalling speed of only 64.m.p.h., a very fine speed range and being Cam’s first [inserted] new fighter [/inserted] military design with Hawkers it was certainly very impressive. No doubt a little disappointing to him that it did not go into Service. In the Hornbill one could see the same plan form as the Cygnet and the forecast conception of many types to come. 78. [underlined] D.H. 54. HIGHCLERE. – 600.h.p. R.R. CONDOR. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] A fourteen passenger civil single-engined aircraft, somewhat before its time, weighing 11,000.lbs. with a power weight ratio of 18 1/2. lbs. per h.p. which did not make a very attractive proposition. My comments were "Very lumbering with full load and rank bad at taxi-ing. It did not go beyond the prototype stage. 79. [underlined] HAWKER HERON. – 400.h.p. JUPITER VI. (BIPLANE). 1925. [/underlined] The Heron was Camm’s follow on to the earlier Woodcock, with which it had a superficial resemblance having a tubby fuselage but its outstanding difference was in the metal construction introducing the well-known square-ended tubular structure. This form of construction was used in every Hawker type for many years to come. In spite of very satisfactory performance, a maximum speed of 156.m.p.h. and a rate of climb to 10,000.ft in 5 1/2 minutes, this type was never adopted. The Moth and the Heron both introduced differential control on fairly large ailerons fitter to either top or bottom plane only. 80. [underlined] VICKERS VESPA. – 400.H.P. BRISTOL JUPITER VI. (BIPLANE). 1926. [/underlined] This was Vickers competitor against the Atlas, and was a very large span aeroplane with excellent control down to a stall at 40.m.p.h. with a top speed of 118.m.p.h. With its very high aspect ratio performance at altitude was excellent [page break] 35. but as altitude was not the criterion for Army Co-operation work it is strange to see why Vickers adopted this lay out. However the Vespa made its mark in the world by attaining the [inserted] height [/inserted] record for Britain at 43,976.ft with a Pegasus S.3. engine on the 16th September 1932 piloted by Cyril Uwins – Bristol’s test pilot. With its light controls the aircraft gave one an im[deleted]m[/deleted]pression of floating about through the air in rather a big aeroplane. 81. [underlined] HANDLEY PAGE HANDCROSS. – 600.h.p. R.R. CONDOR. (BIPLANE). 1926. [/underlined] A competitor as a torpedo-bomber against the Horsley but not nearly such a good aeroplane. I note from my log-book that I likened the handling of this aeroplane to that of seven furniture vans; from which I presume it was a bit heavy on the hand! 82. [underlined] SOPWITH SNIPE. – 230.h.p. BENTLEY 2. (BIPLANE). 1926. [/underlined] Although this was a 1917 vintage fighter I had not flown one before this at Martlesham. It was most curious to go back to flying behind a rotary engine with its to[inserted]r[/inserted]que effect during turns and at take-off. Although in its day it was regarded very highly for its handling qualities and performance, I do not remember being very im[deleted]m[/deleted]pressed with it at this late stage. It certainly lacked the urge which was now obtainable with the higher-powered engines which one had become accustomed to by 1926. Just why we had it at Martlesham then I cannot recall. 83. [underlined] FOKKER F. VII. – 3.240.h.p. ARMSTRONG LYNX. (MONOPLANE). 1926. [/underlined] A worthy development of earlier Fokker design, with a large span cantilever wing made in one piece and mounted on top of the fuselage, entirely ply-wood covered. The roomy fuselage was constructed of welded steel tubes and had accomodation [sic] for eight or ten passengers. With the three Lynx engines it had plenty of power in hand and was delightful to fly. For a long time the British authorities were suspicious of this welded tube construction, which Fokker had used for many years previously, but after the tests of this type A.V. Roe took a licence and built a few [page break] 36. similar aircraft which were known as Avro 10’s. Only fourteen were built. I remember flying Sir Sefton Branker back to Stag Lane, D.H’s. small aerodrome at Hendon, and just managing to end the landing run before the boundary was reached. Before the days of brakes the only deceleration was caused by the tail skid. A thoroughly good type. 84. [underlined] ARMSTRONG SISKIN V. – 400 h.p. SUPERCHARGED JAGUAR (BIPLANE) [/underlined] A much cleaned up Siskin differing from the III., nicer on control and with this engine sure went up-hill. Never adopted by us but some were sold abroad. The Siskin family brought about very good development of the Jaguar, a 14. Cylinder double row radial as opposed to it's competitor the 9. cylinder single row Bristol Jupiter. These two engines vied with each other keenly throughout the 1920’s and the fighter types that used them spurred on development. 85. [underlined] AVRO 504 k. & GOSPORT. – 100 h.p. GNOME. (BIPLANE) 192[deleted]5[/deleted]6. [/underlined] At this late date the old original 504 was given an extention [sic] of life with an oleo undercarriage and converted to take a series of more powerful engines such as the 130 h.p. Clerget, the 180 h.p. Lynx, the 150 h.p. Mongoose and an Avro Alpha a few of which were made by that firm. In fact it was tried with a number of others as well. But in spite of remaining as delightful to fly as ever, it had [inserted] had [/inserted] it's day and was out of date. 86. [underlined] BLACKBURN SPRAT. – 260 h.p. R.R. FALCON (BIPLANE) 1926. [/underlined] One of two types designed with folding wings with the object of stowage within the hangar built on the deck of a [inserted] Cruiser? [/inserted] submarine. In the event the limitations of size, shape, and H.P. made for very bad[deleted]s[/deleted] performance and my comments were “no speed, lands like a brick and has no controls.” That sounds like a very attractive aeroplane and it was not surprising that this venture [below the waves] was a failure. I should add that of course the Hangar was to be watertight, and that the aircraft were to be fitted with floats so that they could be withdrawn onto the deck, the wings spread, and a seaplane take-off made. I seem to have described this ineffective experience of ten years previously! [page break] 37. 87. [underlined] VICKERS VENDACE. – 260 h.p. R.R. FALCON. (BIPLANE) 1926. [/underlined] The competitor to the Sprat but with rather better flying characteristics; as we tested both as landplanes I hate to think what they would be like on floats. A pity the Navy took so long to learn their aviation lessons. 88. [underlined] AVRO AVENGER. 525 h.p. DIRECT DRIVE LION. (BIPLANE) 1926. [/underlined] A private venture single seater fighter which showed advanced thinking by it’s designer Roy Chadwick. One of the cleanest biplanes built up to that time, having an oval semi-monocoque fuselage made up of wooden frames with a double planked [inserted] wooden [/inserted] skin covered with varnished fabric. A beautiful piece of work. The engine was well streamlined but unfortunately the pilot and military equipment were all too tight fitting for the Service. It was a competitor with the Gorcock and the Hornbill and the only one built was entered for various races in which it attained an average speed of 180 m.p.h. It was a glorious machine to fly and together with the Hornbill and the Fox showed what minimum frontal area was worth. 89. [underlined] FAIREY [deleted] 3/ [/deleted] 3.F. – 450. h.p. NAPIER LION (BIPLANE) 1926. [/underlined] As refered [sic] to in No. 38. a very much cleaned up machine which must be regarded as a new design adopted by the Service for a number of General [deleted] Service [/deleted] Purpose Squadrons at Home and Overseas. The Air Routes from Cairo to the Cape; Cairo-Nigeria; Cairo to Aden and then on to Masiera Island were all developed by the sturdy 3.F. so it is worthy of a small place in history. I always enjoyed flying it, for two years at Aden over most inhospitable country, and could trust implicitly in [deleted] in [/deleted] the reliability of the airframe and that of the trusty Lion, during 1931/32. 90. [underlined] ARMSTRONG ARGOSY. – 3. 400 h.p. JAGUARS. (BIPLANE) 1926. [/underlined] I’m afraid nothing much can have impressed me about this type after a ride as passenger as I cannot remember anything about it’s [deleted] s [/deleted] performance. [page break] 38. 91. [underlined] WESTLAND WIDGEON. – 80. h.p. CIRRUS. (MONOPLANE) 1926. [/underlined] A contemporary of the early Moth and Avian. This little high wing monoplane was very good on all controls and gave one unobstructed downward view which was a great advantage in the days when engine failure nec[deleted]c[/deleted]essitated a continual lookout for fields in which to perch if needed. While both Moth and Avian sold well, for some reason the Widgeon did not and only very few can have been built. At any rate on my visits to Yeovil I always managed to get a joyful flight in the works machine. 92. [underlined] AVRO AVIAN. – 80 h.p. CIRRUS II. (BIPLANE). 1926. [/underlined] Starting life with a 70.h.p. Genet which was underpowered it soon changed to the Cirrus and with this combination Bert Hinkler made his record flight from England to Australia in 1928. This type had a very successful career lasting in use up to 1939 although the total number built was not as great as the Moth. I enjoyed the use of one with a Hermes II engine of 115.h.p. while at the Air Ministry in 1929. In this pleasant aircraft I used to visit most of the aircraft factories in the course of my job and the bigger engine was a great improvement. 93. [underlined] HAWKER HEDGEHOG. – 400.h.p. JUPITER VI. (BIPLANE). 1926. [/underlined] This was a 1923 design and was a three seat Fleet Reconnaissance type, an overdue competitor against the Bison, Blackburn and Parnall Panther all of which were then entering Service. It had very good handling qualities and led the way with landing flaps fitted to both top and bottom wings. In appearance it slightly resembled an overgrown Woodcock and from the date of construction I think this was designed by Carter prior to the days of Camm. 94. [underlined] D.H. HOUND. – 550.h.p. NAPIER LION. (BIPLANE). 1927. [/underlined] Designed for a competition of General Purpose prototypes, of which the slower Wapiti and Fairey 3.F. were selected much to D.H.’s great disappointment. The Hound proved to be a fast aeroplane touching 162.m.p.h. but unfortunately was too cramped within the fuselage to have been suitable for the innumerable 'workhorse' duties especially overseas [page break] 39. when all kinds of desert equipment had to be accomodated [sic]. Controls were not ideal but could have been improved had the aircraft been developed. However it put up three world records for speed with load around a closed circuit. This was almost D.H.’s last attempt to capture a military order and except for one more design, the D.H.77. all metal interceptor monoplane powered with a Halford H. engine of 330.h.p., he devoted himself to civil designs only, right up to the outbreak of the second world war. 95. [underlined] FAIREY FERRET. – 400.h.p. JUPITER VI. (BIPLANE). 1927. [/underlined] If I remember correctly, entered as an alternative to the 3.P. as a G.P. type; presumably backing the horse both ways with an air-cooled and liquid cooled engine. My comments – "solid and not very interesting” seemed to indicate that it was not as good as its sister. 96. [underlined] VICKERS VIXEN. – 600.h.p. R.R. CONDOR. (BIPLANE) 1927. [/underlined] A revamped aeroplane registered G-EABC. So presumably intended for an overseas market. With the extra power it was a great improvement on previous Vixens but as we had it only for handling trials I do not know what was its eventual fate. 97. [underlined] HAWKER HAWFINCH. – 450.h.p. JUPITER VII. (BIPLANE). 1927. [/underlined] An all metal two-bay fighter built to specification F9/26 against which no fewer than nine different prototypes competed and from which the Hawfinch and the Bulldog tied. After Service trials however the Bulldog won being fractionally the faster of the two at 174.m.p.h. The Hawfinch once again showed Camm's mastery of clean design and efficient performance, the machine having a service ceiling of 24,000.ft. and did 171.m.p.h. at about 10,000.ft, which height was reached in 7 minutes 40 seconds. I think the two-bay lay out was its slight handicap, but very likable as were all Camm’s designs. [page break] 40. 98. [underlined] VICKERS VALIANT. – 400.h.p. JUPITER VI. (BIPLANE). 1927. [/underlined] Another competitor for the G.P. class which was a very easy aircraft to handle.. All Vickers types of this period bore the stamp of Rex Pierson their designer and Vixens, Vespas, Valients and their fighters of this era had a family resemblance, but the Valient was not successful, although the view was good and the cockpit comfortable and roomy. 99. [underlined] GLOSTER GORAL. – 400.h.p. JUPITER VI. (BIPLANE). 1927. [/underlined] Yet another unsuccessful G.P. type with poor lateral control. It is curious to note how many aircraft of this vintage came out with control systems which were unharmonized. Only a few were nicely matched and this made a big difference in their handling qualities. 100. [underlined] GLOSTER GOLDFINCH. – 450.h.p. JUPITER VII. (BIPLANE). 1928. [/underlined] A competitor for the single seater fighter class against the Hawfinch and Bulldog, it was a much improved Gamecock but heavier on controls and compared unfavourably with either of the other two. 101. [underlined] BRISTOL BULLDOG. – 450.h.p. JUPITER VII. (BIPLANE). 1928. [/underlined] The fighter finally selected for Service and I thought it a beautiful aircraft at all speeds and on all controls. The Bulldog formed the equipment of six of our fighter squadrons and was very well liked throughout, which resulted in a number of foreign sales to Sweden, Esthonia [sic] and Denmark and was developed with a variety of Bristol engines, starting life with a maximum speed of 173.m.p.h. it eventually attained 234.m.p.h. when fitted with a Mercury VI engine. 102. [underlined] VICKERS S.S.F. TYPE 141. – FALCON. R.R. MARK X. (BIPLANE). 1928. [/underlined] Another private venture competitor, the controls of which were very powerful and effective right down to and below the stall.. It was very easy to fly, but I suspect that it was not a very clean design as speed fell off quickly with any reduction in power or in any manoeuvre. It was therefore not seriously in the running. All the above fighters were to a specification F.9/26 the requirements of which called for day and night use. [page break] 41. 103. [underlined] BOULTON & PAUL SIDESTRAND. – 2. JUPITER VI. (BIPLANE). 1928. [/underlined] A twin-engined bomber being a succesful [sic] development of the earlier Bugle, which went into limited Service with one or two squadrons. It had a heavy and sluggish rudder which in the end was fitted with an early attempt at servo tab assistance to lighten the load on the pilots legs. Being a large span of high aspect ratio it was good at altitude as the wing was very efficient, so much so that on one occasion when picketed down during a gale I found it was literally flying at its pickets as I was able to pass my hand completely between the wheels and the ground. 104. [underlined] VICKERS VIREO. – 240.h.p. SUPERCHARGED LYNX. (MONOPLANE). 1928. [/underlined] An all metal monoplane which was an optimistic attempt to build a fighter to meet current requirements at half the usual weight and horse power. This ideal just could not be attained however desirable it might seem and the Vireo showed this only too clearly as it 'hurled itself at the ground when landing and many more horses are required to make it real". Not very attractive. 105. [underlined] BLACKBURN LINCOCK. – 240.h.p. LYNX. (BIPLANE). I928. [/underlined] Another but better attempt at the ‘lightweight’ fighter. A perfect little aeroplane and as light as the old original Sopwith Pup. All controls were well harmonised and effective, but of course it lacked the neccessary [sic] performance as a fighter and was unable to take the required service load. For sheer joie de vivre it had it. 106. [underlined] BOULTON & PAUL PARTRIDGE. – 450.H.P. JUPITER VII. (BIPL[deleted]A[/deleted]ANE) /28 [/underlined] Yet another single seater fighter competitor, which flew much better than it looked, but required a strong pull to get out of a dive and suffered from large changes of trim at va[inserted]r[/inserted]ying speeds. Altogether not very successful. There was also the Armstrong Starling in this contest but I cannot remember flying it. [page break] 42. 107. [underlined] HAWKER HART. R.R. 590.h.p. KESTRAL. (BIPLANE). 1928. [/underlined] Camm’s first real masterpiece. A beautifully shaped clean and efficient day-bomber with a loaded weight of a little over 4,000.lbs it attained a maximum speed of just over 180.m.p.h., climbed to 10,000 ft in just over 10 minutes, had a range of about 400 miles and a service ceiling of 22,800. ft. Such a performance at the period was phenominal [sic] and outstripped its competitors, the Avro Antelope and Fox Mk. II; and was adequately roomy for both pilot and gunner/bomb-aimer which the other two were not. It had delightful handling qualities and I suppose became one of the most successful Service types ever introduced; so much so that not only was it sold abroad to many other Air Forces, fitted with either liquid or air-cooled engines, but was also developed into varients [sic] such as the two-seater fighter Demon; the Fleet Spotter Osprey; the Army Co-operation Audex; the G.P. Hardy; the South African Hartbees; and finally the much improved Hind and the less successful Hector. I do not remember any single basic type which had such a successful span of development life which was certainly attributable to Camm’s determination and designing ability. I was lucky enough to fly most of these and they were all pedigree. 108. [underlined] AVRO ANTELOPE. – R.R. 520.h.p. KESTREL. (BIPLANE). 1928. [/underlined] The real competitor to the Hart, it was slab-sided and had not nearly so much room for the crew, nor so much view for the pilot because of its long flat nose. Camm’s designs all overcame this disadvantage by adopting a sloping nose and a rounded shape which gave a much better air flow and consequently gained in performance thereby. It handled very well and was sent with the Hart to 100. Squadron at [deleted] Bister [/deleted] Bicester for comparative Service Trials. Here the great, Boom’ decided to hold a personal inquest into the views of all and sundry concerning both types, and armed with his walking stick prodded each aeroplane in various tender spots when asking about some feature or another. The outcome was a win for the Hart; but later the Antelope served two valuable purposes, being used at Farnborough for the [page break] 43. development of the Gloster-Hele-Shaw variable pitch propeller, an early British invention; and much later in 1935[deleted]I[/deleted] I found it on the scrap heap and used it as a target on the ground to test out, by practical result, the effect of a two-second burst by eight machine guns on it’s metal construction, and very satisfactorily. So the Antelope did us proud in the end as well as giving some of us the pleasure of flying it. 109. [underlined] HAWKER TOMTIT. – 150 h.p. ARMSTRONG MONGOOSE. (BIPLANE) 1928. [/underlined] A very advanced ab-initio training machine which introduced for the first time the Reid and Sigrist blind flying panel for instrument flying training. It was highly efficient, rather soft on laterel [sic] control and tended to float on the glide and was not altogether easy to land well.. That is not to say that it was not delightful to fly. Only ten aircraft were built for the Service while a few others were made with various engines, in an attempt to capture a rather non-existent civil market, but I think it was too expensive for the private owner. I flew it at Brooklands by the courtesy of the Company and indeed took my family in it to their great enjoyment. 110. [underlined] WESTLAND WAPITI. – 580.h.p. JUPITER VIII. (BIPLANE). 1928. [/underlined] The type which shared the General Purpose market with the Fairey 3.F. and it was a splendid aircraft to fly having good controls, simple, rugged, straightforward and a draughtless [sic] cockpit for once. The engine was well overhung in the nose and the nine cylinders could be felt firing almost individually as it bounced along. The Wapiti did valiant service all over the world and although it looked clumsy it was a splendid workhorse. A modified version became famous as the first aircraft to fly over the peak of Mount Everest, and many were used by the Air Force in India to keep down trouble on the North West Frontier. 111. [underlined] FRENCH WIBAULT. – 460.h.p. RENAULT. 1928. [/underlined] A type which I can remember little or nothing about so quoting my log-book “Controls, though better than the Breguet were poor to say the least. It had no adjustable tailplane so any change of trim caused a big load on the stick. View in any direction was practically non-existent [page break] 44. and particularly so in turns. Not my idea of a good aeroplane although much used by the French”. 112. [underlined] HAWKER HARRIER. – 580.h.p. JUPITER VIII. (BIPLANE). 1929. [/underlined] A complementary design to the Horsley in an attempt to gain higher performance with a bigger load. In this it was not successful particularly at take-off with full load and as the Horsley was already in production the Harrier had no future. It was used for a number of years as a flying engine test-bed at Farnborough and Bristol. 113. [underlined] HAWKER HORNET/FURY. – 480.H.P. KESTREL. (BIPLANE). 1929. [/underlined] This aircraft was an insight by Camm of the fighter necessary to surpass his own design of the Hart. From the word go it was outstanding by any yardstick and my comments were; “without doubt the most perfect example of what an aircraft should be, controls excellent at all speeds, glide 70.m.p.h. in comfort, lands and takes off like a bird, goes very fast and one can see everywhere one wants to with plenty of cockpit space”. It did not take long for this private venture prototype to be produced as the Fury, the most elegant aeroplane of all time at that date. Moreover it was the first front-line aircraft with a speed of over 220.m.p.h., a climb to 10,000. ft. in three minutes and fif[deleted]i[/deleted]ty seconds and a service ceiling of 29,500. ft. but armed with only two Vickers guns. It formed the equipment of three fighter squadrons No.43. No.25. and No.1. and these squadrons were enthusiastic about the precision with which the aircraft could be flown and the abundance of power available, made evident from the surprisingly low all-up weight of about 3,600.lbs. The Fury sold abroad to Yugoslavia, Norway, Persia, Portugal, and Spain and in fact became the envy of others who could not get them. From the Fury evolved the Nimrod, as a Fleet Fighter to take over from the old fashioned Flycatcher which had served the Fleet Air Arm well for many years though long outmoded in performance. The Nimrod was also sold abroad to Denmark and Japan and together with the Osprey, conversion of the Hart, began to close the big difference in performance which had existed so markedly between Fleet operated aircraft and those operated from land bases. [page break] 45. It was with the introduction of the Fury with it's high performance that the Boffins began to forecast that pilots would not be able to withstand speed beyond 300 m.p.h., or the effects of ‘G’ beyond the power of 4. Famous last words; and as so often predictions of the future have been so wrong by the scientific world. Furies and Bulldogs set a new standard of aerobatics, both individual and in formation. I believe it was due to these relatively lightly-loaded fighters that Squadron training tended to concentrate on formation manoeuvres which, while highly spectacular, were not 'war’. All these Hawker types since the Hedgehog had proved superbly the simple form of metal construction that had been used in all of them, which in it’s own right was just as brilliant as was the overall design. 114. [underlined] FAIREY FLEET FIGHTER/RECONNAISSANCE – (BIPLANE) 1929. [/underlined] Unless this was the Ferret[deleted]in[/deleted] in original clothing, then I do not recollect what it was. I rather think it was another of Fairey’s double strings. 115. [underlined] Fairey Fantome. – 480 h.p. R.R. KESTREL. (BIPLANE) 1929. [/underlined] Fairey’s private venture competitor against the Hornet but not such a perfect aircraft, the controls of which became very ineffective below 80 m.p.h. and as usual with so many clean aircraft of that time it had a long flat nose which obscured forward view for take off and landing and for sighting the guns. The cockpit also was very tight fitting as in the case of others described previously; and although a high performer the Fantome only came to rest in [deleted] Belgiim [/deleted] Belgium much to the disappointment of Dick Fairey but led to him establishing a Belgian company. 116. [underlined] PARNALL ELF. – 115 h.p. CIRRUS HERMES. (BIPLANE) 1929. [/underlined] An attempt at the private owners market; which in appearance was most attractive, but with poor flying characteristics being directionally unstable, bad at take-off, poor laterally and on elevator controls it really hadn't a hope. In fact heavy with no harmony at all. [page break] 46. 117. [underlined] VICKERS 143. – 500 h.p. JUPITER VI. (BIPLANE) 1929. [/underlined] Another Vickers private venture fighter similar to the previous 141. but with an air cooled engine, and a symetrical [sic] wing-section. Presumably in competition with the Bristol BULLPUP and the Hawker Jupiter Interceptor, none of which were produced. 118. [underlined] BRISTOL BULLPUP. – 480 h.p. MERCURY 2.A. (BIPLANE) 1929. [/underlined] A rather more powerful Bulldog, directionally unstable and it felt the big torque of the Mercury very much at take-off, requireing [sic] full rudder to hold it straight. With a speed of no more than 190 m.p.h. the Hornet remained superior. 119. [underlined] AVRO 621. TUTOR. – 155 h.p. MONGOOSE etc. (BIPLANE) 1929. [/underlined] Roy Chadwick’s design of a basic trainer to replace the old 504. It was completely foolproof, flying comfortably at 50 m.p.h., and stalled at 41. with a top speed of 108 m.p.h., which was a very good speed range no doubt obtained by the use of Handly [sic] Page slots, which by this time had become an accepted feature of a good many types. It was accepted into Service as the Avro Tutor powered with the 240 h.p. Lynx and was much[deleted]ed[/deleted] used in the R.A.F. at Home and Overseas, as well as being sold into Denmark, Greece, and South Africa. Developed still further with the Armstrong Cheetah the type became known as the Avro 626, and continued in production until 1939. by which time the Air Forces of Argentina, Austria, Belgium, Brazil, Canada, Chile, Czechoslovakia, Egypt, Greece, South China, Lithuania, Esthonia [sic], and Portugal all had aquired [sic] this splendid aeroplane either as landplane or on floats. Altogether a pretty successful kite. 120. [underlined] BLACKBURN NAUTILUS. – R.R. FALCON XII. (BIPLANE) 1929. [/underlined] Another two-seater Fleet Fi[deleted]f[/deleted]g[inserted]h[/inserted]ter Reccon[deleted]n[/deleted]aissance type which was sluggish and heavy on control, and I thought not quite a fighter. I don’t remember much about this competition as it came at the end of my days at Martlesham, which I enjoyed so much. [page break] 47. 121. [underlined] CURTISS 0.2e. – CURTISS/WRIGHT. (BIPLANE) 1930. [/underlined] In America on vacation from the Staff College, I was given a flight in this type over New York which struck me then, and since, as one of the sights of the world. I was allowed to fly dual from the back seat and found it very stable and easy, and I remember bringing it down into Mitchell Field and pulling off a perfect three-point landing much to the surprise of the gallant 'LOOTENANT' who occupied the front seat. I also had a flight from Langly Field in a Curtiss A.3. but quite forgot what operational functions either type fulfilled. Two of us Squadron Leaders were on a survey of a number of aircraft factories to study American methods and development, and were usually addressed as 'Squadies’ – an American form of Sergeant. America is a very leveling [sic] country. 122. [underlined] D.H. TIGER MOTH. – 130 h.p. GYPSY MAJOR. (BIPLANE) 1931. [/underlined] The Tiger Moth was an obvious development of the earlier ones, but with increased power made it the forerunner of no less than 8300 built, to become the primary trainer [deleted] othe [/deleted] of the R.A.F. and other countries in preparation for the Second War. It was universally liked by both instructor and pupil. My friend in Aden and many other places, it still towes [sic] gliders in a number of Clubs. 123. [underlined] CIERVA AUTOGIRO. – 140. ARMSTRONG GANNET. 1934. [/underlined] A later development of Cierva’s lengthy experiment [deleted] ion [/deleted] with the autogiro principle. In this C.30. type which I tried at Hanworth he had introduced a shaft drive from the engine to the rotor, and by clutching in it was possible to accelerate the rotor speed. This enabled a vertical take-off to be made but only to sufficient height to gain forward speed, when the rotor had to be declutched and thereafter it turned freely by air speed alone. It was known as the 'jump autogiro' for this reason. I was most impressed. The landing was made from a down hill approach but forward speed became nil as [deleted] as [/deleted] the stick was pulled back and one sank vertically onto the ground for the last few feet. Production was done by Avro who made 66. and it was licenced into France and Germany but alas was never further developed, I believe owing to the death of Cierva. [page break] 48. 124. [underlined] AIRSPEED COURIER. – 240 h.p. LYNX. (MONOPLANE) 1934. [/underlined] A very nice civil cabin aeroplane with one of the first retractable undercarriages designed in this Country. It was a real attempt at a modern conception by this new firm headed by Tiltman and Norway. It was with this aeroplane that Alan Cobham carried out his early experiments in flight re-fuelling another aircraft in flight; a method which took many years to perfect, but one which is in vital use to-day. Only a few Couriers were built. 125. [underlined] HANDLEY PAGE 42. ‘HORATIUS’ – 4. BRISTOL PEGASUS. (BIPLANE) 1934 [/underlined] I was a paying passenger in this type on a flight from London to Paris to visit the Aircraft Exhibition. IT WAS MY FIRST EXPERIENCE of real commercial airline flying and what impressed me most was the elegance and roominess of the passenger accomodation [sic] ; but still more watching Captain O.P. Jones, with his Captain Kettle beard, walk slowly out across the tarmac pulling on a pair of spotless yellow suede gloves to take his place at the controls, after all engines had been run up for him. This was a fine piece of airline showmanship which surely gave the passengers great confidence, for airline flying even then was not everybody’s cup of tea. We arrived safely in Paris, and returned later in a sister ship 'Hengist’. A most successful type, although somewhat ugly ducklings of Imperial Airway's fleet, they took a large slice of the Continental traffic from their competitors. 126. [underlined] SHORT SCYLLA. – 4. BRISTOL PEGASUS. (BIPLANE) 1935. [/underlined] An attempt at a replacement of the H.P. 42. but which looked even uglier. Both types cruised at about 100. m.p.h. but the Scylla was far less comfortable and only a few were built. I made the journey again to Paris, in both cases taking about two and a quarter hours, in this instance to be shown the most secret Hispano 20mm. gun demonstrated in the dungeons of a fort outside the city. It was very impressive but at that early stage of development an uncertain bet so I chose the 8X.303. guns for the Hurricane and Spitfire. An exciting and epoch-making journey as that gun became the next step to victory in 1944. [page break] 49. 127. [underlined] Miles Falcon. – GIPSY. (MONOPLANE). 1936. [/underlined] A pleasant little enclosed cabin, private owners aeroplane, one of a family of such which Miles designed over the next few years. It flew well but needed a lot of neck twisting to see out in most directions and as I flew it at Brooklands in bad visibility, it struck me as a bad feature. 128. [underlined] WESTLAND WALLACE. – 680. h.p. PEGASUS. (BIPLANE). 1938. [/underlined] At West Freugh Armament Training Camp which was equipped with these aircraft for target towing. An overgrown development of the old Wapiti with all mod cons such as heating and an enclosed cockpit. Very gentlemanly and comfortable to fly and I remember the propeller was so geared down that one could almost count the revolutions! 129. [underlined] VICKERS WELLESLEY. – 680.h.p. PEGASUS. (MONOPLANE). 1938. [/underlined] A large span monoplane bomber constructed on Wallace’s geodetic principle of design, which had originated in his design of the airship R. 100. The wings flexed a good deal in turbulent conditions and being rather soft on controls responses were slow but otherwise quite straightforward. Hardly an ideal bomber and not many were built as such, but its great success was in a long-distance Flight by four of these aircraft to Australia in two non-stop stages; England to Egypt and thence to Australia. This Flight was under the command of my Brother-in-law Wing Commander Oswald Gayford who was also the pilot of the long-distance flight made in the Fairey monoplane in 1938. All aircraft reached Australia but his one had a forced landing in crocodile country on the west coast some hundreds of miles from the nearest habitation. As the Wellesley was heavily loaded [deleted] w [/deleted] and single-engined that was quite a remarkable flight for 1937/38. 130. [underlined] FAIREY BATTLE. – 1030 h.p. R.R. MERLIN. (MONOPLANE) 1938. [/underlined] Like the Wellesley, the Battle was a single-engined day bomber which introduced the change over from the old biplanes. Contrary to some expectations they proved to be quite easy and straightforward to [page break] 50. fly; the only trouble being that they lacked sufficient performance and bomb load to be effective in war. The Advanced Air Striking Force which went to France at the outbreak of war was equipped with this type and it suffered heavy loss in the first few months. 131. [underlined] SUPERMARINE STRANRAER. – 2. PEGASUS. (BIPLANE) 1938. [/underlined] A very good flying-boat following on after the Southampton; free of vibration and with good controls; another of Mitchell's successful designs. I enjoyed a pleasant flight in one all round the Firth of Clyde and watched the new cruiser doing her speed trials off Arran. She was H.M.S. Arathusa [sic]. 132. [underlined] BRISTOL BLENHEIM. – “2. BRISTOL MERCURIES. (MONOPLANE) 1938 [/underlined] The bomber developed from the civil prototype 'Britain First' which at that time,1935, was given a cruising speed of 240 m.p.h. This caused consternation in some circles and a prompt reaction to have it converted into a bomber to augment the few types available for the pre-war expansion programme. It is never wise to take a civil type and arm it, and still retain it's original performance; it just doesn’t happen. But something had to be produced to fill the need and the Blenheim was better than some others; and was used in the early stages of the war to come. The one I flew in 1938 I thought good on control except the rudder which was solid any speed, but it was not fast enough to be an unarmed bomber, and as soon as turrets were added the performance fell off too much. Like the Battle it suffered many casualities [sic] when war came. 133. [underlined] AIRSPEED OXFORD – 2. 270 h.p. CHETAH’S. [sic] (MONOPLANE) 1938. [/underlined] A twin-engined crew trainer which at first had poor take-off and climb with fixed pitch propellers and insufficient power. This was much improved in later development as it handled well in the air. It had a very marked swing to the right at take-off which was best countered by opening up the starboard engine a little more the the [sic] port one. I once forgot this trick on a cross-wind runway and took off at right angles! It was also over flapped and with full flap down had a rather abrupt touch down with no hold off whatever. In spite of these characteristics it did a fine training job. [page break] 51. 134. [underlined] MILES MAGISTER. – 130.h.p. GIPSY III. (MONOPLANE). 1938. [/underlined] One of Miles' three-ply and glue constructions designed as an elementary trainer, but being underpowered had no performance worth taking about, and was very draughty and cramped. I also seem to remember that it had some unpleasant characteristics directionally in a turn in which the nose tended to go down from which recovery was not straight forward. 135. [underlined] AVRO ANSON. – 2. 335.h.p. CHEETAH’S. (MONOPLANE). 1938. [/underlined] A very easy machine which served the Air Force well in many roles. From the first model which tended to look like a flying greenhouse, made with a wood and fabric wing all in one piece, it adopted the constructional features of Fokker. By 1946 with the Anson 19 the wing had been designed in metal and fitted with 420.H.P. engines, I used it a lot when visiting units in my Command, but in those days it lacked all the modern forms of radio navigation. Altogether the Anson in its various forms lasted from 1935 when first introduced as a Coastal reconnaissance type until about 1952 after some 11,000 had been built. 136. [underlined] MILES MONARCH. – GIPSY THREE. (MONOPLANE). 1939. [/underlined] A little two/three seater side-by-side enclosed cabin machine which was quite pleasant even though the control system was not harmonised. One of Miles many three-ply and glue types and an improvement over the Magister. 137. [underlined] NORTH AMERICAN HARVARD. – PRATT & WHITNEY WASP. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] At Boscombe Down: one of the many lease-lend American types which was a very satisfactory trainer having good controls except for a slight hunt on the elevator. Being an ungeared engine this type was notorious for its propeller noise due to the high tip speed and anyone living near a training airfield equiped [sic] with Harvards suffered unmercifully. [page break] 52. 138. [underlined] CURTISS HAWK & MOHAWK. – WRIGHT CYCLONE. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] The first of a series of Curtiss fighters – Mohawk, Tomahawk, Kittyhawk. This Hawk was one of the early types aquired [sic] from U.S.A. by the French to augment their pre-war aircraft supply. It was easy and pleasant to fly, excellent laterally but rather heavy on the elevator and pulled hard in a tight turn. Very resilient undercarriage suspension, good windscreen and rigid and robust at all speeds; a nice article although not terribly fast having a bulky circular fuselage. 139. [underlined] GLOSTER GLADIATOR. – 850.H.P. MERCURY. (BIPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] A splendid example of design of the old school, just another biplane fighter with all their characteristics. Lightly loaded, it would glide for miles even with half-flap. It was noteworthy for a single-strut undercarriage which was the design of George Dowty who was in the Gloster team just before the war. As events were to prove the Gladiator was hardly a match for the German. 140. [underlined] D.H. FLAMINGO. – 2. 890.h.p. PERSEUS. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] The first all-metal D.H. airliner which only saw service to the tune of 16 aircraft, procdution [sic] being stopped by the war. They were used for Air Council and other V.I.P. communication work, very pleasant to fly but once again controls were not well harmonised. It was excellent in the 'one engine out’ condition when it could be trimmed to fly hands and feet off. At full load it motored in at just over 100.m.p.h. with a pleasant hold-off for landing. It might have had a bright future but for the war. 141. [underlined] HAWKER HURRICANE. – 1030.h.p. R.R. MERLIN. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] This was one of the most important aircraft in my life as I had been much concerned with its conception during 1934 with Sidney Camm. After helping him with the Hart and the Fury I was able to put across to him what I thought would be needed for a fighter suitable for war against Germany when it came; and it seemed obvious to me it would not be long coming. To be successful this fighter must be a complete departure from [page break] 53. the previous requirements of biplane fighter design with all their limitations of slow landing speed, and insufficient hitting power by only two or four guns; and with these packed into the fuselage within reach of the pilot thus making it bigger than needs be. When I went down to Kingston to see his mock-up with its thick section wing, there, was the layout neccessary [sic] to install two batteries of four guns each, one in each wing, and thus narrow the fuselage down considerably as well as enclose the cockpit with a sliding hood. Together with the essential retractable undercarriage and V.P. airscrew this would then fulfill [sic] the Operational Requirements I had previously envisaged and written into Specification F. 5/34. Camm was one of the most clear sighted of our military designers in spite of his sometimes vitriolic language and inability to suffer fools gladly, but if one could convince him, often in the course of fierce argument, he would go all the way with you. This is how it happened in 1934 when the Hurricane was born. It was a masterly design throughout and I doubt if there was any other, except perhaps the Spitfire, which proved capable of so much development throughout the war. 142. [underlined] LOCKHEED HUDSON. – 2. PRATT & WHITNEY WASPS. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] One of the first of the tricycle types, which did not impress me greatly, although it had the usual excellent American detail lay-out. It handled quite well but as so often all controls were different; ailerons being light but low geared, rudder heavy and spongy, and no feel about the elevator. At slow speed I thought the ailerons got very soft and ineffective. Rather disappointing as it looked better than it proved to be. 143. [underlined] MILES MENTOR. – 230.h.p. GIPSY QUEEN SIX. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] The same family resemblance and characteristics of all Miles’ previous products. I certainly did not like the flap control coupled to the throttle, as this was neither instinctive nor neccessary [sic]. In other respects it was not outstanding. [page break] 54. 144. [underlined] MILES MASTER. – 450.h.p. R.R. KESTREL. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] A full grown trainer better than any of his previous miniatures but by no means perfect as the ailerons were inclined to snatch. Approach speed of 85/90.m.p.h. was needed to obtain a nice hold-off for touch down, otherwise it could be 'brusque'. Later redesigned as a Mk.2. with Pratt & Whitney Wasp engine it was a much improved machine. 145. [underlined] WESTLAND LYSANDER. – 840.h.p. MERCURY. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] An unusual high-wing monoplane designed for Army Co-operation which required a technique of its own to fly it really well. Disappointingly heavy on ailerons, it was rather like a flying boat i.e. sluggish. Heavily flapped it was good at slow flying but was very defenceless against enemy attack. It was not a success in this role but much used for supply dropping to the ‘Resistance’ and for picking up aircrew on the run in Europe. 146. [underlined] MESSERSCHMITT. 109. – DAILMLER-BENZ. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] I liked this aeroplane although the cockpit was cramped and the forward view for landing was not all that good. Even with the narrow undercarriage it had, the take-off was quite normal but needed a lot of right rudder to counteract the torque, but the rudder was light and effective. Below 300.m.p.h. ailerons were pleasantly light and effective but hardened up above that speed. It was very stable fore and aft with a heavy elevator and needed adjustment of tail trim for each change of speed. I noted that the engine was smooth and powerful and opened up instantly when required, presumably a side effect of petrol injection instead of carburation. I thought it a very good aeroplane. 147. [underlined] SPITFIRE II. – 1650 h.p. R.R. MERLIN (MONOPLANE) 1940. [/underlined] I found the controls on this aeroplane excellent below 280.m.p.h. above which speed they stiffened up laterally. By comparison with the M.E. 109. no rudder was needed in turns whereas the latter was of the old school requiring a lot of top rudder in steep turns to either side. Take-off was easy and the view good and it had a pleasant float at touch-down after an approach speed of 90.M.P.H. [page break] 55. As with the Hurricane the Spitfire was of first importance to me, and it certainly lived up to my ideas of it some six years earlier, when my aquaintance [sic] with Mitchell influenced him to adopt the F. 5/34 requirements for eight gun armament etc. With Mitchell's thin section wing it was not easy to install them as in the Hurricane, but with great effort and ingenuity he managed it successfully, although at first it had looked impossible to get in more than six. Here I should say how lucky I then was then to have as ultimate Chief over my department (Operational requirements), Sir H.R. Ludlow-Hewitt as D.C.A.S., who had similar ideas. Consequently he backed the F. 5/34 requirements completely and reduced opposition from those who had become acclimatised to the old biplane manoeuvreability [sic] and low landing speed as a prerequisite for all fighters. A very outmoded viewpoint. It may not be generally known that both Gloster and Bristol built prototypes with air-cooled engines to specification F. 5/34, but they were well behind Hawker and Supermarine in time. 148. [underlined] SPITFIRE.III. – 1260.h.p. R.R. MERLIN XX. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] This aircraft was a development prototype. The wing tips had been removed which added about 30.M.P.H. and manoeuvreability [sic] was materially improved. My comments were "A great aeroplane that gives a real feeling of speed. Controls very good below 350.M.P.H. but ailerons get very stiff above this. The fore and aft control which was very sensitive on the Mk.II. during landing is damped by an inertia ballast weight on the stick, which is very effective. Inclined to do a little jump on touchdown. Altogether a great improvement on 12.lbs. boost.” The experience gained with this developement [sic] model of which only one was built, proved most useful in further development of later Marks of Spitfire, particularly Mk.V. Through the genius of Joe Smith; who was Mitchell's right-hand man and took over all further design responsibilities after his death in 1937; the Spitfire outlived all its contempories developing to Mks XXI & XXII powered by 2050.h.p. R.R. Griffon engine, and remained the finest and fastest fighter in the world long after others had become obsolete. From the basic design was evolved the Seafire for the Fleet, and a Photographic Reconnaissance Type, both invaluable up to the end of war. [page break] 56. 149. [underlined] PERCIVAL PROCTOR. – 250.h.p. GIPSY QUEEN. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] A very nice enclosed cabin communications aircraft. It had rather a long take-off, with a cruising speed of about 160.m.p.h., a long flat glide and a longish hold-off for landing. Later when C.R.D. I had one for my own use based on Hendon and I had two interesting episodes with it. Once when climbing out of Hendon off the short runway towards Harrow, l was heading for the cloud base at about 1500 ft when out of the cloud in front me and only a relatively few feet above dived a whole squadron of Spitfires. I was very much at the receiving end, but by the time I had drawn breath they had passed over my head. That shook me as there was no time whatever to get out of the way. The other was a repeat of landing in a Moth in a sandstorm, but this time in a blizzard in Yorkshire. Stupidly I took-off a disused runway and ran slap into thick and blinding snow so did a quick circuit, found the down wind end, and landed at no forward speed on about half throttle, literally lowering myself vertically on to the ground. 150. [underlined] BREWSTER BUFFALO FLEET FIGHTER. – WRIGHT CYCLONE. (MONOPLANE) 1940 [/underlined] An American lease-lend with a supposedly high performance which did not appear to mature. It was an ugly aeroplane with a completely circular large fuselage and the wings were mounted half-way up. As so often, the controls were not harmonised and it did not strike me as being a winner. The tail wheel was fully castoring and supposed automatically to lock fore and aft for landing, but if this did not happen it was quite possible to end up with a ground loop. 151. [underlined] MILES U. 8. – GIPSY. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] Yet another of his attempts at an initial trainer of which I can remember very little except that it never saw service. 152. [underlined] GRUMMAN MARTLET FLEET FIGHTER. – WRIGHT CYCLONE. (MONOPLANE). ’40. [/underlined] Similar design to the Buffalo i.e. a big circular fuselage with the wings mounted half-way up. Very responsive on ailerons but heavy on rudder and elevator, nevertheless turned corners very quickly. It gave [page break] 57. the impression of being a bigger machine than it was; and incidentIy [sic] one was nearly blown out of the cockpit with the hood open. 153. [underlined] FAIREY FULMAR. – 1100.h.p. R.R. MERLIN. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] If I remember correctly this was a conversion from an experimental type F. 4/34. which specification was for a light dive-bomber to carry two 50. lbs. bombs internally stowed. Hawkers also designed the Henley to these same requirements, but for reasons I quite forget, neither aircraft completed trials as such; the Henley being converted for target towing, and the Fairey into a Fleet Fighter-Reconnaissance type, renamed Fulmar. My comments were "Not what I expected. All controls feel heavily mass-balanced and have no crispness or feel, with the result that one does not feel part of the aeroplane, and certainly not my idea of a fighter.” 154. [underlined] WESTLAND WHILRLWIND. – 2. R.R. PEREGRINE. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] A single seat supposedly night-fighter, armed with four Hispano 20 m.m. guns mounted in the nose. It stemmed from a specification F. 10/35 which was intended to develop [deleted] s [/deleted] the Hurricane into a four cannon fighter. However my successor changed the concept altogether, and the Hurricane developed itself, only two or three years later on, and just too late for the Battle of Britain. To fly I thought the Whirlwind rather full of tricks of its own; “requiring a very heavy push on the stick to get the tail up and lacked feel on all controls at landing. Not enough elevator to hold off at touch-down when the tail is well up after the wheels touch, it then does a little prance". Not an ideal night-fighter and only a few were put into Service. A disappointment for its designer Teddy Petter. 155. [underlined] D.H. PUSS MOTH. – 130.h.p. GIPSY III. (MONOPLANE). 1940. [/underlined] I flew this one when it was ten years old, and contrary to other opinions I was very disappointed and wondered how on earth such a machine could have flown the Atlantic and got around the world so successfully. For reasons I didn't define at the time it did not appeal to me; so I may have misjudged it. [page break] 58. 156. [/underlined] STINSON RELIANT. – LYCOMING. (MONOPLANE) 194o. [sic] [/underlined] “An American [deleted] e [/deleted] runabout belonging to Fairey’s, furnished for comfort with a cruising speed of about 150 m.p.h. Controls arranged like a car and has a very smooth undercarriage. As with most high-wing types the view out sidewise is obstructed when on a turn and in bad visibility this can be naughty when turning in to land.” 157. [underlined] BOULTON PAUL DEFIANT. – 1260. h.p. R.R. MERLIN (MONOPLANE) 4[missing numbers] [/underlined] Built to Specification F. 9/35. a conception for a standing patrol fighter with an all round field of fire and a speed of over 300 m.p.h. it was a re-insurance against the F.5/34. failing in the interceptor role. Hawker’s also designed the Hotspur to this specification but never finished it because they were too busy with Hurricane production. The Defiant went into Service and on one day over the beaches of Dunkirk scored a big success, but owing to the shortage of fighters it had to be used as an interceptor, which of course it wasn’t, and was not so successful thereafter. To fly, it appeared to have a slight lack of lateral stability, was rather soft on the rudder and lacked feel: had an excellent view in all directions, but it weighed 8000 lbs. and that just spoiled its performan[missing letters] Ultimately the Hotspur was said to be 20 m.p.h. faster, but that was spil[missing letter] milk. But one thing the Defiant did; develop the four gun turret which put Boulton Paul on the map for design of this armament for the defence of bombers. John North aquired [sic] the licence from a French firm – S.A.M. – for their method of Hydraulic power operation, and developed it to a grea[missing letter] extent to our advantage. 158. [underlined] HANDLEY PAGE HALIFAX. – 4. R.R. MERLIN XX’s (MONOPLANE) 1940. [/underlined] We had the Halifax, Manchester, Stirling and Lancaster all at Boscombe at the same time. I handled the Halifax with Squadron Leader McGuire and thought it quite quick and responsive, and at 50,000 lbs. all up weight and 10 lbs. boost the take [sic] seemed excellent. I also thought the Pilot’s view might have been better. It must be remembered that these heavy bombers were the first of thei[missing letter] [page break] 59. kind, of British design any rate, and aircraft of 25 tons were somethin[missing letter] of a novelty; however pilots found less surprise or difficulty flying them than [deleted] might [/deleted] was anticipated. I think the credit for their evolution should be given to the then Wing Commander R.H.M.S. Saundby, who in 1936 wrote what became known as 'the big bomber paper’, an appreciation of the operational economies as they improve with the size of bomber. 159. [underlined] AVRO MANCHESTER. – 2. R.R. VULTURES. 1760 h.p. (MONOPLANE) 1940. [/underlined] In some respects it was lucky to have a go at the Halifax before the Manchester, because the former showed up the latter as being slower in response and heavier, with a worse take-off, although I liked the pilot's view much better. But the real let down of the Manchester was the engine as the Vulture was unreliable and never gave it’s power so the one engine out case was pretty hopeless. McGuire, in whose Flight these types were one day had a poor up-hill take off and caught his left wing against a big radio pole and waltzed round it through over ninety degrees without damage or disaster; which only went to show how strong was the wing structure. The Manchester was not in the same class as the [deleted] Three [/deleted] [inserted] two [/inserted] others and it rapidly developed into the Lancaster. 160. [underlined] CURTISS P.40. TOMAHAWK. – Allinson. (MONOPLANE) 1940. [/underlined] From one to the other, my next was the lead at this time in American fighters of the lease-lend era and it followed Curtiss characteristics, with a smooth engine which felt good. It had an electric control over the pitch change of the propeller which was operated by a small switch tucked away out of sight. Of course I forgot to check that it was in fine pitch for take-off, as opposed to coarse for flight, with the result that I nearly did a McGuire on the same up-hill run, as it did not want to leave the ground too easily [deleted] i [/deleted] in coarse. Boscombe was a grass airfield then. 161. [underlined] AVRO LANCASTER. – 4. 1280. h.p. R.R. MERLINS. (MONOPLANE) 1941. [/underlined] It had become apparent to Roy Chadwick that the Manchester was no match to the other two four-engined types, and with remarkable speed [page break] 60. a prototype Lancaster was first flown on the 9th. January 1941 and delivered to Boscombe on the 27th, and a productionised prototype followed as early as the 13th. of May. Dobson and Chadwick had done wonders and this must be a record for introducing an outstanding winner. Until then the Halifax had looked to be the best, but the Lancaster was in a category of it's own, and which became the best of them all. "A greatly improved Manchester with a much better top speed, handles well with improved ailerons on 100 foot span, larger twin rudders and no central fin. A splendid effort". From that time on it became the equipment of fifty six squadrons in front line service and was constantly modified to carry bigger and better bombs, culminating with the ten ton block-buster ’Grand Slam’, and of course the remarkable skip bomb invented by Barnes Wallis for the Dam Busters. The Lancaster was one of the finest types ever introduced into the Service and from it Chadwick evolved the successful York transport in just five months after the drawings were issued to Avro’s experimental department. This was a great step towards getting a small foothold in the transport aircraft field, up till then entirely in American hands, and they were operated in Service and Civil use all over the world. Unfortunately I never had the pleasure of flying one. A further evolution was the Lincoln bomber which increased the all-up weight from 50,000 lbs. to 82,000. This type was intended for the long-range attack of Japan from Pacific bases, but fortunately not needed. 162. [underlined] FAIREY SWORDFISH. – 750 h.p. PEGASUS. (BIPLANE) 1941. [/underlined] Although by now a design some seven years old it still had a remarkable career in front of it. It was one of those old fashioned aircraft which just stepped into the air with any old load and wafted along behind a large highly geared down propellor, the slip stream from which blew one about unpleasantly in the cockpit. It was a wonderful old crate which did valiant service. It seems unbelievable that the Fleet Air Arm were able to carry on a first class war with an aircraft with such poor performance. [page break] 61. 163. [underlined] BOEING FORTRESS. 17.– [deleted] G. 17 [/deleted]. 4. WRIGHT CYCLONES. (MONOPLANE). 1941. [/underlined] It was an interesting comparison to fly this American heavy bomber after ours. I found it quite straightforward in take-off, flight, and landing, although it was a two-man job requiring the second pilot to lock the throttle levers, operate the undercarriage switch control, flap control etc whereas ours did not need two pairs of hands. The controls I found heavy and slow in response and quite devoid of feel, but it motored in comfortably at 110.M.p.h. At 40,000.lbs the undercarriage was surprisingly resilient. I later did some dropping trials with American 2,000.lbs bombs at an all up weight of 49,000.lbs when the take-off was still good. One of the remembered characteristics of all these American types was the distinctive smell they had; just in the same way the French and German types smelt differently, no doubt due to the paints and materials, used in each. 164. [underlined] FAIREY ALBACORE. – 1130.h.p. BRISTOL TAURUS. (BIPLANE). 1941. [/underlined] Here my log-book lets me down because I remember flying this Swordfish replacement; in fact a grown-up Swordfish in which the pilot was positioned right up front behind the engine with a much superior view. It was a single-bay robust aeroplane but I cannot remember anything of its flying characteristics. 165. [underlined] MILES. M. 20. – 1060.h.p. R.R. MERLIN. (MONOPLANE). 1941. [/underlined] Another three-ply and glue construction but of much greater ambition than anything previously. It was in fact a wooden 8-gun fighter of very clean lines but the old familiar long flat nose. I am afraid I cannot remember any of the handling features of the type which complemented another wooden attempt later on by Jimmy Martin. Designed as an insurance against failure of our metal raw material supply, there was yet another manufactured by Hilson which was a copy of a Hurricane in wood. I think it was just as well they were not needed as I am sure they would not have stood up to battle damage. [page break] 62. 166. [underlined] MILES. M.18.(T.1/37). – GIPSY. (MONOPLANE). 1941. [/underlined] An ab initio trainer built to compete against a number of other prototypes to specification T. 1/37. It had a very thick wing section with controls lacking harmony but quite pleasant to fly and I thought a vastly better job than the Magister. I do not believe that this competition resulted in any Service type. It astonishes me now what a prolific designer Miles was. 167. [underlined] D.H. MOSQUITO. – 2. 1535.h.p. R.R. MERLINS. (MONOPLANE). 1941. [/underlined] The first prototype came to Boscombe early May 1941 and was immediately recognized as a winner being beautifully manoeuvreable [sic] , fast, and in fact very like a fighter to handle. Unfortunatly [sic] it broke its back while taxi-ing due I think, to the tail wheel tending to bounce. However Bishop immediately had a makeshift repair done and the aircraft flew back to Hatfield, where the ne[deleted]c[/deleted]cessary minor re-design was made to the fuselage in a matter of days and from that momen[deleted]a[/deleted]t the Mosquito never looked back. From September 1941 to early 1944 it was the fastest aircraft in the war and nearly 7,000 were built. I quote from a book of reference "The trials at Boscombe Down marked the tur[inserted]n[/inserted]ing point in the Mosquito’s career. Up to that time there had been incredulity about the De Havilland performance estimates. The Boscombe measured speed proved 10.m.p.h. faster than those estimates; 20.m.p.h. faster than official estimates and 20.m.p.h. faster than the Spitfire with the same engine. The whole atmosphere changed from the moment Boscombe confirmed that". The lasting credit for the introduction of the Mosquito into the Service rests with the late Air Chief Marshal[deleted]l[/deleted] Sir Wilfred Freeman who had supported D.H.’s earlier conception of this wonderful type from 1939 onwards, much against opposition of many who could not, or would not, place any faith in speed instead of armament for the protection of the bomber. Thereafter the type was converted for many roles – unarmed bomber; fighter bomber; night fighter; intruder; photographic reconnaissance; pathfinder and a few others and every conversion was a success. An epic aeroplane. [page break] 63. 168. [underlined] HESTON PHOENIX. – GIPSY. (BIPLANE). 1941. [/underlined] A really poor type which I found difficult to taxi without brakes, and what there were of them were not working. It had the worst climb imaginable and no wonder it did not sell. I cannot remember anything about it that resembled being good. 169. [underlined] STINSON A.R. 430. – LYCOMING. (MONOPLANE). 1941. [/underlined] A high wing ‘puddle jumper’ type for army co-operation – slotted and flapped in every direction with excellent convex windows on both sides, out of which to lean; all it lacked was window boxes of aspedistras [sic] ! With flaps down it was hard to exceed 40.m.p.h., and landed about 25.m.p.h. which was funny for an aircraft of 4,000.lbs all-up weight. I don’t think we took any on lease-lend. 170. [underlined] PERCIVAL Q.6. – 2. GIPSYS. (MONOPLANE) 1942 [/underlined] A good looking clean 6/8 seat civil type. I seem to remember that it had reputation for being difficult to land, but I have no record of experiencing this or any other difficulty with it, in fact I liked it. Designed in the hope of commercial sales just before the war and built of three-ply and glue it had no future. 171. [underlined] North American Liberator. – 4. PRATT & WHITNEY. (MONOPLANE) 1942. [/underlined] Another American heavy bomber which came to Boscombe but which I did not fly. However there is quite a little story to tell about this aeroplane as I accompanied the Lyttel[deleted]e[/deleted]ton Mission to U.S.A to negotiate supplies of lease-lend aircraft. [inserted] X [/inserted] The numbers of those to go exceeded the capacity of a Boeing Stratoliner in which we were intended to be flown from Prestwick across the Atlantic, with the result that I found myself allocated to a Liberator used by the Royal Air Force Ferry Command. This flight in November 1942 was still something of an adventure and the conditions were worth recording. Aircraft No.592 had been stripped of everything internally; had no seating and only a few oxygen plug-in points along the sides. On seeing the absence of seats, stupi[deleted]e[/deleted]dly, I suggested installing a park bench down [page break] 64. the centre as at least something to sit on. After three hours sitting on this hard bench, I and the five others would willingly have thrown it overboard if we could, but to add to our discomfort we found that the next three hours had only returned us to our starting point, the weather having shut down on the American coast. The next two days were at stand-by with much shuffling of weather conditions, and that awful bench having been removed, we were suddenly told to be ready by 8 p.m. “We dressed as for the North Pole in sweaters, Sidcott Suits, flying boots, Mae Wests, gloves and helmets until quite immobile; and taxi out only to find the Stratoliner at the end of the runway with a flat tyre and we have oil pressure trouble. We taxi back, take off all the sweaty clothing and wait. By ten o'clock all is in order, and re-dressed in all that clothing again, off we go and this time for the full crossing.” [inserted] X [/inserted] The six of us were laid out on [deleted] t [/deleted] the floor head to foot with no heating and scarcely any light, and individual movement was virtually impossible. We flew mainly at 8000 ft. in clear weather until 200 miles east of Newfoundland when ice began to fly off the propellers and clanged against the fuselage in an alarming manner. At last we broke cloud over the New Brunswick coast at 2000 ft. By then a filter of light had crept into our airbo[deleted]u[/deleted]rn cell and I had managed to stagger upright and walked over the other reclining bodies to an Elsan situated right in the tail. This I found to be a reasonable seat when facing aft with a little window. So I rode the lavatory looking out over snow covered New Brunswick and Maine, a deserted pine-covered land with few signs of habitation until we landed at Presquisle, having taken sixteen and a half hours for that leg of the journey. After the finest breakfast I can remember at this staging post we re-embarked for Washington and I enjoyed the 750 mile journey, looking down on Boston, New York, Philadelphia and Baltimore from my point of vantage on the elsan. This took 4 1/2 hours; thus 20 hours and 45 minutes from England and considered a good trip. Shades of Atlantic travel 28 years [deleted] agg [/deleted] ago. [page break] 65. 172. [underlined] BEECHCRAFT TRAVELLER. – PRATT & WHITNEY WASP. (BIPLANE). 1942. [/underlined] In Washington I was taken in charge by Group Captain Heslop – ‘Slops’ of the British Technical Mission and a grand tour of the U.S.A. was planned to visit as many aircraft factories as possible. In this small single-engined biplane, with backstagger he flew me to Martins at Baltimore; a very gentle introduction to what was to follow. 173. [underlined] BEECHCRAFT [deleted] 2 [/deleted]. – 2. PRATT & WHITNEY WASPS. (MONOPLANE). 1942. [/underlined] This was a different six-seater type in which next day we visited Brewsters on Long Island, and eager to get my hands on this apparently viceless type I said I would fly it back to Bolling Field. But I discovered there were two vices which I had not observed with ‘Slops’ as pilot; the first was that it disliked a three-point landing and must be put down on the main wheels with the tail up: and the second that it had a method for operating the wheel brakes by ones toes pressing a little pedal attached to the rudder bar. This I had never experienced before and was my undoing. Correction of any swing on the runway required both rudder and toe-brakes and as the rudder effect at Ianding speed was not good I got tied up with trying to operate first one toe brake and then the other. The result was not only awful but could easily have been disastrous, as we swung right off the runway and dashed past various aircraft parked beside it, by the grace of God without hitting any, but completely out of my control. A shame-making performance in front of our Allies but ‘Slope’ took it and made no alteration to our grand tour! On November 16th in this same Beechcraft provided with a Naval crew from Anacostia Field we set out on our long journey, and I decided to leave the flying in better hands. Our first stop was Nashville (600. miles) which was a staging post for R.A.F. Ferry Command where many aircraft were being Re-fueled en route before flying the Southern Atlantic to Africa and the Middle East. Judging by the numbers I saw there this made flight delivery across the Atlantic an every day occurrence. Two and a half hours later we reached the smallest and most insignificant airport at Little Rock (famous for Eisenhower) and a further two hours on we arrived after dark over Dallas and Fort Worth, the lights of which made the most magnificent sight after so long a period of black-out at [page break] 66. home. Next day we visited Consolidated Aircraft at the famous Willow Run plant, almost exactly one miIe long under one roof and filled from end to end with Liberators under construction. Impressed I was, to say the least. Off again for another three hundred miles to refuel at Midland, and on this leg I renewed my personal acquaintance with the cockpit and commented “Beech is a nice quiet comfortable aircraft cruising easily at 185.mp.h. at 6,000 ft; is pleasant to handle except rudder is of little value, only disturbing the directional stability which it does to no mean extent if used at all coursely [sic]”. This may have been some of the cause of my shocking earlier arrival! "On again to Tuscon another 500 miles passing over Texas without seeing one mule or steer and no cowboys. Surprising how air travel misses the local industries – but oil wells plentiful". Yet another 500 miles to Burbank "On this leg I lay basking in the sun and gazed out over the Mexican border imagining tall hats and bronchos and not a little surprised at the barren rockiness of the country all the way from Fort Worth. We climbed up to some 12,000.ft to cross a high range at Palm Springs, and as it got dark the sunset became quite Egyptian, and soon below us was the largest carpet of lights I have ever seen en masse. So this was Los Angeles, almost unbeliev[deleted]e[/deleted]able in extent for so many miles in every direction. In such a fairy land it was quite a job to find Lockheed’s airport which was right in amongst all this. This is quite one of the sights of the world.” We had accomplished this journey in two full days and spent the next day visiting North American Aircraft, Douglas, Lockheed, Northrop and finished up with a wild ‘do’ in Beverley Hills. Next day a not surprisingly painful visit to Consolidated at San Diago where still more Liberators were being churned out by the hundreds. I am afraid I did not take as much interest in them as I should have done, and was only too thankful for the Beech to return me to Burbank and bed. Next day November 22nd began our return journey making Winslow to refuel man and machine, after 450. miles of very rocky barren country, and then proceeded 200 or so miles to Albuquerque – not the Mexican town I had expected but just another city, which I failed to appreciate in any way. [page break] 67. In the bitter cold of early morning we set off for Wichita nearly 600 miles on and here we had our first mechanical trouble with burnt out generators. Luckily we were at a small aircraft firm who fixed it soon enough for us to complete another leg as far as Kansas. By then the weather had turned sour to the East and next morning we had to make a stop at St. Louis and await clearance into Dayton some 300 miles further on. Cloud was very low, but we got in all right and next morning reached base at Washington. This was a most valuable survey of both American production methods, and advanced new design which I was shown. It was not all one way traffic as I was swapping our experience and difficulties in an attempt to help them avoid similar ones. At Burbank the 50 ton Constellation, doing its first flight trials, showed only too clearly the future of American civil transports. Elsewhere I had been shown mock-ups of 100 ton aircraft and engines of over 4,000.h.p., to say nothing of remotely controlled armament for the defence of big bombers double the size of current ones; eye-opening development we were unable to undertake in this country because of the strains of war. My last visits to Bell & Curtiss were made by airline to Buffalo, after which I flew on to Toronto joining up with the rest of the mission in Montreal where I found the same Liberator await[deleted]n[/deleted]ing clearance to Gander. By now the weather was changing from fog to snow and soon after landing we were grounded and remained snowbound for three days. During this time I took the opportunity in the quietness of a disused office to write my report. This I am glad to say was received favourably by those in high places, and was to have the desired effect of enabling this country to develop civil aircraft. After a calm and good crossing to Prestwick in nine hours, mostly at 15,000 ft but upwards to 23,000 ft towards the end (sucking an oxygen pipe and frozen stiff) I was glad to finish that journey of 12,000 miles and 85 hours flying, and land back on my native heath on the 28th anniversary of joining the flying Service, during which time I had never imagined I would fly the Atlantic. [page break] 68. 174. [underlined] AUSTER. – 130.h.p. GIPSY. (MONOPLANE). 1943. [/underlined] A puddle-jumper adopted by the Army which I found terribly noisy and toy-like, nevertheless it remained in the Service for at least 20 years, and must have been a better aeroplane than I judged it to be. In fact the Army Air Corps was founded on the Auster some of which still fly to-day. 175. [underlined] FOCKE-WULF. 190. – 900.H.p. B.M.W. (MONOPLANE). 1943. [/underlined] In June 1942 the first of this type was delivered into our hands intact by a German pilot who landed on Pemberry airfield on the South Wales Coast. I had immediately flown down there to have a look at this prize, and found ‘Batchy’ Atcherley had incarcerated the poor boy in a lavatory just to keep him safe. In dumb crambo the pilot had prevented anyone from climbing about the aeroplane by indicating it might explode. After a while, and as nothing had happened, valour overcame discretion and a full inspection ensued. We badly needed to know all about the F.W. 190. which was causing some havoc at the time, and was promptly put through its paces and stripped apart at Farnborough, which provided valuable information. Nearly a year later I flew this aircraft at Farnborough on a not particularly enjoyable flight. In the first instance the seat had been locked in the lowest position and I found my forward view completely blanked out. In any event it had a large circular nose which was not condusive [sic] to a good take-off and landing view even had the seat been higher. Second surprise was that I was warned that the left brake was much weaker than the right, but having got myself into the thing I was not deterred by that. The engine was an enormous thumping powerhouse and consequently it climbed off the runway at a very steep angle. Fore and aft it was much heavier than I expected, the ailerons being very good but with a tendancy [sic] to overbank [deleted] s [/deleted] while the rudder was without feel. The natural visibility on that day was poor which added to my discomfort at not being able to see anything ahead. With the nose down speed increased very rapidly and being thoroughly uncomfortable I made a landing approach at about 120/130.m.p.h. as at any lower speed there was considerable ‘sink’ with the nose well up. I touched down almost entirely [page break] 69. by feel cursing the inadequacy of the forward view, and as a result no doubt I thought it was soon time to apply the brakes. For the second time this was my undoing, for in a trice we swung off the runway to the right and I was careering across grass, once again missing parked aircraft by the grace of God, as rudder alone had no effect whatever in changing direction. We came to rest unscathed but in a muck-sweat with [deleted] t [/deleted] the though[missing letter] that valour is not always the better part of discretion. Two years later I was to meet the designer Dr. Kurt. Tank in circumstances I will describe later on. 176. [underlined] MILES M.28’. – 130 h.p. GIPSY. (MONOPLANE). 1943. [/underlined] Yet another Miles idea, and what a contrast to the one above. Heavily slotted and flapped with a stilt-like undercarriage, it was fool-proof and a child could use it. With an enclosed cockpit it was an amateurs delight and could land on the proverbial pocket handkerchief, but in spite of all that it did not sell. 177. [underlined] FAIREY BARRACUDA. – R.R. MERLIN. (MONOPLANE). 1944. [/underlined] I attended some carrier trials in H.M.S. Indefatigable when several new types were being tried for deck landing, I believe the Mosquito. At the end of the day which had been successful I was to be flown ashore to Prestwick and found awaiting me on the flight deck an old Barracuda. It was a typical Fleet reconnaissance type which looked a thorough christmas tree. The rear-gunner’s cockpit was enclosed by a perspex roof which as soon as I had been hurried through it was slammed down over my head, without knowing how to open the thing. The engine roared and before I knew where we were, we were over the bows and off. How thankful I was that I was not a crew member of a Barracuda. Practically deafened by the noise I was glad to touch down at Prestwick in one piece. Not my idea of a good aeroplane. 178. [underlined] VICKERS WARWICK. – 2. 2,000 h.p. CENTAURUS. (MONOPLANE). 1944. [/underlined] A development from the Wellington which introduced a remote control sighting system from the tail. I had a ride in the tail, piloted by Mutt Summers at Wisley and besides being im[deleted]n[/deleted]pressed with the gun-sighting [page break] 70. system, I was also impressed by the flexibility of Wallis’ geodetic construction on a much larger aeroplane than the Wellington. The movement of the tail and outer wings was rather sick-making but as I had seen a wing being tested to destruction in a test rig, when the tip of the wing flexed upwards to five feet, I had no qualms. 179. [underlined] SIKORSKY R. 4. HELICOPTER. – 1944. [/underlined] I have quite forgotten this single experience of handling a helicopter, but I see from my log-book that I did a bit of dual, and although not the simple thing I had imagined, managed to handle it fairly successfully in the time available. 180. [underlined] DAKOTA. – 2. PRATT & WHITNEY WASPS. (MONOPLANE). 1945. [/underlined] This was one of the unique of many unique flights that must have been made by this wonderful aeroplane, the war-time version of the great D.C.3. On the 11th April 1945, I received a message direct from Germany that our troops had just captured the design offices of Focke-Wolf and would I come at once. Hastily gathering together two or three experts we flew out of Hendon to Eindhoven and then Rheine, and found our H.Q. already established in some houses in Canabruk. It had been arranged that my little party would be at Focke-Wulf first thing next morning. [symbol] On arrival we were received as honoured guests and were at once taken to the board-room and introduced to the senior engineers. To my disappointment Dr. Kurt. Tank. had been flown back to England immediately after the place was captured, but his deputy proceeded to take us through their latest design projects beyond the F.W.190, and at once it was evident from the fact that each one of them was a swept-wing lay out, here was certainly something for us to learn about. At that time our aerodynamisist [sic] were only dimly aware of the great advantage that swept-wings conferred on future near-sonic and super-sonic jet aircraft design. German research obviously was ahead and I suppose there had never been a more open, or fruitful, design conference, moreover hard to believe such could happen within sound of the guns. After hours of interpreted discussion we were bidden to a feast [page break] 71. which I felt was guilding [sic] the lil[deleted]l[/deleted]y too much too acept [sic] from our enimies [sic] who were short of food themselves. Clutching a few bottles of Moselle perhaps I rather [deleted] hautil [/deleted] haughtily withdrew my party and flew back to London to find Kurt Tank himself. This I soon did, finding him in a bare room in Westminster under interrogation. Leaving him in the hands of experts I invited him to dine with my party at the Savoy that night. He was a man of great quality whom I thought deserved good treatment and perhaps a little fluid might enlighten us still more on his forward thinking. It transpired that what he wanted most was to be transported with the whole of his organization to England to continue the work they were doing. This raised the ugly question of employing Germans, and greatly to my disappointment the verdict was given that public opinion would not stand for it. [inserted] X [/inserted] America however took the other view with the result that most of the best technical talent was shipped to U.S.A. much to our disadvantage in the post war years; and the remainder were taken by Russia. Kurt Tank was sent back to Germany and eventually found his way to Argentine [sic], and later to India, where he designed in each country advanced fighters of the type we had been shown. This episode is a departure from the Dakota. Our pilot on this strange sortie was Lt. Daniels of the Royal Dutch Navy who had a reputation for coping with emergencies and who soon after was killed in one. He let me fly home as second pilot and I was glad for a few hours to take my mind off what I had heard and seen, which had the war not ended as it did, would have had us at great disadvantage. 181. [underlined] D.H. DOMINIE. – 2. 385 h.p. GYPSY QUEENS. (MONOPLANE) 1946. [/underlined] This was a classic design originating as the Dragon, and later the Rapide and finally converted into a flying class-room as the Dominie. It was one of Charles Walker’s most efficient civil transports of about 1937. vintage, and some are still flying at this present date of 1971. As usual with any D.H. aeroplanes, it was essentially functional, simple and in it's early days cheap. A delight to fly with absolutely no vices whatever, I am envious when I see one in the air and regret the number of years before I first flew it. [page break] 72. 182. [underlined] D.H. DOVE. – 2. 385. h.p. GYPSY QUEENS. (MONOPLANE) 1946. [/underlined] De Havilland’s contribution, before the Comet, to civil transport at the end of the war. It was a Rapide replacement, practical, modern, rugged and elegant, it was an immediate success and no less than 275. had been sold by the end of 1946. “A lovely aeroplane, handles like it’s namesake at an all-up weight of 7300 lbs. No noise, no vibration, excellent one engine out and very good view. I would say almost perfect”. Perhaps because it was the 21st. anniversary of my wedding day it was an appropriate one to be introduced to the Dove. It is still to be found in the air to-day in many parts of the world. 183. [underlined] BRISTOL FREIGHTER/WAYFARER. – 2. HERCULES. (MONOPLANE) 1946 [/underlined] Designed by Bristol’s towards the end of the war, in order to get a foot in the transport market. It was a straightforward workhorse, which by 1946 had proved it’s worth in a great many countries, as well as initiating Silver City Car Ferry business. I handled the aircraft with Cyril Uwins at Bristol, and having had a hand in egging them on with the project I liked it’s behaviour [sic] in the air. It felt solid on all controls but particularly so on the rudder; noisy indeed but not much vibration. Over 200 were built and many still in service. During the next four years, when C. in C. Technical Training Command I flew only my Avro. 19. 184. [underlined] D.H. CHIPMUNK. – GYPSY MAJOR. (MONOPLANE) 1950. [/underlined] The Tiger Moth trainer replacement which was designed and first built by D.H. Canada in 1945/6 but later transfered [sic] to England because of dollar shortage. In all over a thousand were produced at Chester. It was a lovely little aeroplane with beautiful controls and one in which one felt at home and joyful from the first moment of opening up the engine. I flew one very soon after retiring from the Royal Air Force and joining De Havilland’s at Hatfield. 185. [underlined] D.H.COMET. – 4. D.H. GHOST JETS. (MONOPLANE) 1950. [/underlined] A direct result of my visit to U.S.A. was the formation of the Brabazon Committee in January 1943. with the task of formulating [page break] 73. requirements for key categories of Civil aircraft we should need if Britain was to pIay any part in Air Transport after the war. The outcome was recommendations for, among others, a Jet transport; at first envisaged as an Atlantic mail carrier, but gradually evolved as a passenger type. The history of this development is fully set out in Martin Sharp’s “An Outline of the De Havilland History” as is also the story of the Dove and Ambassador – all three filling general requirements of the Second Brabazon Committee. The Comet first flew on 27th July 1949. – the first commercial jet airliner, but it was not until April 1950. that I had the exhilarating experience of flying with John Cunningham on one of his test flights. This is what I recorded in my log-book:- “A great experience, a ride to 40,500 ft. doing some stability tests: rate of climb quite astonishing and sitting inside one could not guess how quickly we reached 30,000. There is some noise but no vibration and one gets a distinct impression of being very high. Behaviour on controls seems excellent and most manoeuvreable [sic] at height. A marvellous sunset above a blanket of cloud and then down through it into the last twilight for a flarepath landing. Strange lack of appreciation of speed, especially when com[deleted]m[/deleted]ing downhill when we must have been doing about 500 m.p.h. No noise of wind rushing past the window, and as smooth as sitting in an arm chair. I wonder how passengers will take to height?” The first jet airliner service was inaugurated by B.A.O.C. on 2nd. May 1952. and led the world, and developed Commets [sic] are still flying to-day. Britain turned over a page in aviation history. 186. [underlined] D.H. BEAVER. – 450 h.p. WASP. (MONOPLANE) 1930 [sic]. [/underlined] The first in line of D.H. Canada’s S.T.O.L. types which have become world famous. The Beaver originated early in 1947. and was essentially designed to lift rough and ready loads to places where there was no other form of transport. It could be operated equally well on skis, whee[deleted]e[/deleted]ls or floats, in winter temperatures far below zero or in the heat of the deserts. From being an immediate success they have continued to operate in all corners of the world by fifty three airlines and charter owners [page break] 74. in about twenty seven countries. It was a lucky break for the Canadian Company who managed to aquire [sic] surplus engines at a cheap price, around which the design centred, but their great achievement was in the slow flying qualities which enabled it to take off and land in very restricted places. I found it very noisy but a grand robust, simple and pleasant aeroplane, very easy to fly with no tricks and a good view, and I thought everyone would like it, and there must be many happy users to-day. 187. [underlined] BOULTON PAUL BALLIOL. – R.R. Merlin (MONOPLANE) 1950. [/underlined] Designed as a turbo-propeller advanced trainer but the Armstrong Mamba for it did not suit and it was re-engined with a Merlin. It was nice to handle in the air, but very noisy, and the side-by-side cockpit was highly congested. The undercarriage was harsh and there was [deleted] a [/deleted] a distinct swing to one side on take-off and landing. Not very successful. 188. [underlined] AIRSPEED AMBASSADOR. – 2. 2600 h.p. CENTAURUS. (MONOPLANE) 50. [/underlined] Designed by Hagg as the third of the [inserted] Brabazon [/inserted] types constructed by D.H’s. It was a most elegant aeroplane carrying 49. passengers, and weighing just over 52,000 lbs. I flew in one on B.E.A’s. inaugural flight on the Paris service. This was a beanfeast with an excellent lunch provided on arrival. We returned at 15,000 ft. in cloud, and I thought the aircraft particularly smooth and comfortable, because on cruising power the engines seemed to be just ticking over. Alas only 22. were built but this efficient aeroplane, characterised by it’s high wing and triple fins and rudders, was operated for many years by B.E.A. as their Fleet leader, and is still doing good service for some charter operators. 189. [underlined] D.H. HERON. – 4. GYPSY QUEENS (MONOPLANE) 1952. [/underlined] This was a development from the Dove capable of carrying 15/17. passengers, which was, and still is, used as a short range feeder liner selected by the Queen’s Flight and by industrial firms. “A nice aeroplane the wings of which flex a good deal in turbulence, which made it a little tireing [sic] to fly in rough weather. Excellent on any one or two engines out conditions which caused no big change of trim. A bit sluggish laterally especially at low speed when rudder is needed to help bring up a wing.” [page break] 75. 190. [underlined] LOCKHEED CONSTELLATION. – 4. PRATT & WHITNEY. (MONOPLANE) 52 [/underlined] Ten years after seeing the prototype on the tarmac at Burbank I boarded one of B.A.O.C.’s to take me to Australia. In 1952 the ‘Connie’ was about the Iast word in airline travel and for comfort and ‘gracious living’ – much food and wine – it certainly was excellent. However although 3 to 4 days for that journey was regarded as fast, it needed some stamina all the same. Our route was London – Zurich – Beirut, where a night stop was made after a 12 or 14 hour day. A very early start next morning for Karachi, reached after about ten hours flying; an all-night flight followed to Calcutta for breakfast, and then another 7 or 8 hours to Singapore and another night stop. Early in the morning on to Jakarta, where we were kept locked in a room while a little brake trouble was being rectified: then another 8 or 9 hours to Darwin for a meal followed by an all-night flight ending at Sydney. In the heat of the Far East the stops on the ground felt worse by virtue of stepping out of an air conditioned aeroplane which, however monotonous, was more comfortable. The conditions of flight were almost perfect especially crossing the Alps at about 20,000 ft with visibility well exceeding one hundred miles in any direction; but after Calcutta we entered the much talked of Inter-Tropical Front area where the dreaded Cu-nim (Cumulo Nimbus) clouds towered upwards to well over 20,000 ft. This entailed flying through the tops; sometimes in severe turbulence, but one was thankful that ‘Connie’ didn’t have to push through the dense centres which were very much to be avoided. The object of this visit was to establish a D.H. base for Blue Streak at Woomera, then in its very early days, when life in the scorching desert could not be regarded as funny. After completing our business in Adelaide, Melbourne and Sydney, I flew back in a Quantas ‘Connie’ again, as far as Columbo and thence relaxed by P & O taking the best part of 3 weeks to get to England. I made those same long-stage flights several times during the fifties, and each time they seemed to get longer and more interspersed with uncomfortable experiences. The pallid passenger in the next seat who would sleep all over one through the long droning night, quite [page break] 76. immovable until literally heaved back into his own chair; the trials of being st[inserted]a[/inserted]cked up over Sydney in a violent storm and taking an hour or so to be lowered progressively from 15,000 ft to ground level, only to find the customs jammed full and still insisting on a ridiculously close inspection of the baggage of collapsed and overwrought passengers – Australian customs are not noted for their consideration. The many delayed take-offs and uncertainty of destination – these incidents and more led to the phrase ‘With time to spare go by air’. But this was still the piston-engine era – has the jet set changed all that? I will give one answer later. Within these long journeys I flew intercity in D.C. 4's and D.C.6’s Convairs and a Percival Prince, none of which I feel deserves individual mention except to extol the D.C.4. and say the D.C.6. never matched it because of unreliable engines. When things got too bad the magic name of De Havilland usually got me an invitation from the Captain to visit the flight deck and, perhaps a little unfairly, I passed a happier time with the air crew learning how things worked than with the motley assortment of passengers passing their time badgering the poor stewardesses who must w[inserted]a[/inserted]lk miles during one of these long stages. 191. [underlined] ARGONAUT. – 4. R.R. MERLIN. (MONOPLANE). 1952. [/underlined] A post-war conversion of the D.C.4. to take Merlin engines – R.R. entry into the airline business. While it gave the aircraft a better performance, it was the noisiest ever thought of and I was glad my experience of it was only a short trip to Madrid rather than a long journey to Africa. In spite of the noise they did good service for some operators and are still to be found flying on charter routes. 192. [underlined] PERCIVAL PROVOST. – 2. 500h.p. LEONIDES. (MONOPLANE). 1953. [/underlined] “A pleasant high-wing monoplane very quick on lateral, and good on other controls. It had accommodation for 8 or 10 people and was much less noisy than its smaller sister the Prince”. [page break] 77. 193. [underlined] VICKERS VIKING. – 2. BRISTOL HERCULES. (MONOPLANE). 1954. [/underlined] About 1944 George Edwards took over from Rex Pierson as chief designer for Vickers and once again in order to get a foot in on post-war civil aviation they developed the Wellington into a transport. At first this was done by geodetic fabric-covered wings on a new metal fuselage, but soon produced new metal wings and so turned it into a new machine. Ten years later I had the pleasure of flying through Central Africa in one, from Johannesburg to Nairobi, which was then called ‘the milk run’. After two false starts we got going for Lusaka, Nodola, Karme, Abercorn, and all stations North to Nairobi. This was a lengthy proceeding taking eight or nine hours, unloading and loading stores and supplies of every description. The aeroplane functioned all right but was a wearisome trip although most interesting to see how the daily necessities were being conveyed by air from town to town. Near Nairobi the wonderful effect of many thousands of flamingo, rising from the lakes as we passed over, was as if a pink carpet had suddenly been spread over the water, or a pink veil slowly waved over the desert. Here I joined a Constellation and via Khartoum, Cairo, Athens, Rome rumbled my way to Heath Row. While the Viking may not have been the most efficient civil aircraft, it was a well executed quick conversion of a military type, which entered service as soon as the war ended, and lasted the best part of twenty five years. 194. [underlined] VICKERS VISCOUNT. – 4. R.R. DARTS TURBO-PROP. MONOPLANE. 1953. [/underlined] This type was included as an addition to the requirements of the Brabazon VI, and became VI.A. Just as the Comet aimed to be a jump ahead of the world, so too did the Viscount become the first turbo-propeller civil airliner. George Edwards, and Hives of Rolls Royce, made a beautiful job of this highly efficient aeroplane, which introduced completely new standards of passenger comfort with much greater speed than previous piston-engine types. There were of course many 'doubting Toms’ when we first proposed this step forward, but still in service to-day it remains a winner. To discover for myself its fine qualities I made a journey in one to Istanbul and back in July 1953. The stage times were [page break] 78. London – Rome 3 1/2 hours; Rome – Athens 2 1/2 hours; Athens – Istanbul 2 1/2 hours. The smoothness in flight without any vibration and relative quietness was a great advance and no wonder the Viscount proved itself in so many countries. In those days the plain jet could not equal the turbo-propeller for fuel consumption, especially on shorter stage distances, but this was to change after about ten years. 195. [underlined] VICKERS VANGUARD. – 4. R.R. TYNE TURBO-PROP. (MONOPLANE). 1959. [/underlined] Following the success of the Viscount, George Edwards introduced a much larger and more powerful aircraft capable of seating about 100 passengers. However time was aginst [sic] him on this project, because the rapid development of the plain jet was fast eliminating the fuel consumption difference, and in spite of the good economics which the Vanguard showed in operation only twenty were built for B.E.A. The jet transport has clearly surpassed it on nearly all routes, both short and long, nevertheless the Vanguard is doing a good job in freighting, and I imagine will continue to do so for a long time. In 1959 I went on an inaugural proving flight with a bonanza lunch laid on at Nice. I often wonder who enjoyed it, because, not only did we take-off from Heathrow straight into cloud but remained solidly cloud bound, and were diverted to Rome in the same cloud. There we pecked at a bowl of spaghetti, hurriedly re-embarked and never saw the ground again until touch-down at London. A very happy day! 196. [underlined] BRISTOL BRITANNIA. – 4. BRISTOL PROTEUS. (MONOPLANE). 1959. [/underlined] Starting as a gleam in Auntie’s eye as a medium-range Empire transport at 94,000.lbs all up weight on four Centaurus piston engines, the designs of this type changed, and grew, to ultimately produce a long-range transport ending up at a weight of 175,000.lbs. Unfortunately it had a chequered and long-delayed introduction into service, being dogged with Proteus engine troubles amon[inserted]g[/inserted]st others, with the result that by the ti[deleted]e[/deleted]me it began operating for B.O.A.C. it had clearly become the last of the turbo-prop mainliners. The fact that it was able to practically double its weight in ten years, speaks volumes for the high standard of engineering of the structure. The ‘Whispering Giant,’ as the [page break] 79. Press christened it, still whispers it’s way around the world carrying goods and passengers at very economical rates and if it became famous for nothing else it might be regarded as the initia[deleted]o[/deleted]tor of the ‘package tour’ for to-day’s holiday makers. 79 aircraft were built so they should bring happiness to a great many yet. I have never had the pleasure of a long ride in one but was allowed to handle it briefly on a test flight, so briefly that I cannot comment. 197. [underlined] D.H. TRIDENT 2. – 3 R.R. Spey[deleted]s[/deleted] Jets. (MONOPLANE) 1966. [/underlined] This was to be my first, and so far only, experience of a journey by jet and I looked forward to apprising the latest product of my old firm. As soon as I boarded I settled down in a window seat prepared to watch all proceedures [sic], only to be followed by a man who plonked himself down alongside me, and it didn’t take long for my senses of smell and hearing to tell me he was pixilated. I did my best to glue my attention to the window and revel in the enormous surge of power thrusting us steeply upwards into our steady climb, and trying to guess our altitude and position as we crossed the coast. Throughout there was a rambling voice telling me he had come from Salt Lake City where he and his mother had emigrated from England (how I wished his mother had kept him there) but had spent a night with friends in London, and now he “thought” he was going to Cairo (I wished he was there). By now he was on his second large Scotch and we were at cruising altitude of about 40,000 ft. and I really could not bear this obnoxious piece of England any more. I quietly asked the Steward to take my passport to the Captain with a request that I might be invited to join him on the flight deck. This invitation was forthcoming and I spent about an hour listening to the familiar jargon of the aircrew and watching the Alps in miniture [sic] pass beneath us. As soon as we had left Genoa behind, all preparations for descent were being made and I returned to the Cabin hoping that my plagueing [sic] passenger would be asleep. But not so, as soon as I arrived back at my seat he saw me from across the aisle, where he had been leaning on two others, and clutching a still full glass he staggered across to me, [page break] 80. fell over, shot the glass full down my front followed by himself. The steward got him into another seat, mopped me up, and of all things put a little stewardess alongside him to look after him. This was hardly the best thing to do as he started to ogle her and and [sic] call for another glass. I was nevermore thankful to get shot of anyone, and after landing the last I saw of him was weaving his unsteady way up a corridor and sprawling over the B.E.A. desk, presumably trying to express his earlier thought about Cairo. So the ‘Jet Set’ havn’t [sic] improved conditions even if the aircraft have. [underlined] CONCLUSION [/underlined]. Variety is said to be the spice of life. I hope my experiences with nearly two hundred different aeroplanes have provided the reader with variety at least; and perhaps a little spice. The contrasts spread over these – and there have been many more that did not come my way – in the span of one’s life are truly an amazing record of the ingenuity and skill of man’s rapid progress in engineering; I doubt whether exceed or even equalled before. In the begining [sic] it was said aviation would become the means of uniting the peoples of this world in brotherly love and understanding. Whatever else it has done, and is doing, it has not [inserted] yet [/inserted] done that. Rather the reverse; and as for my brotherly love, I hope he fell into the Nile! From an all-up weight of under a ton, aircraft are now operating at two hundred and fifty tons, and designs of up to five hundred are in sight. From thirty miles an hour, thirteen hundred is now with us in the sky: and whereas twenty thousand feet in eight minutes was a freak climb, the latest fighter makes forty thousand in four minutes an everyday possibility. One could go on drawing such vast contrasts in many directions – from the carriage of a pig by Moore-Brabazon to prove that pigs can fly, to the arrival of plane loads of three or four hundred humans intent on having a good time, or if in uniform of destroying each other. Readers must draw their own conclusions what aviation is doing for the world; I can not. But I do know I’ve enjoyed it all. ENFORD[deleted character], E Wiltshire. 16.8.71. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource A Reminiscence of the Flying Characteristics of Many Old Type Aircraft Description An account of the resource A detailed analysis of very early aircraft and their flying characteristics. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Air Marshall Sir Ralph Sorley Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. Great Britain England--Felixstowe England--Eastbourne (East Sussex) England--Bembridge Atlantic Ocean--Spithead Channel England--Cowes England--Stroud Scotland--Montrose England--Sunbury England--London Monaco Egypt--Cairo Iraq--Baghdad England--Felixstowe England--Aldeburgh Iraq Middle East--Kurdistan Middle East--Palestine Jordan Iran Middle East--Euphrates River Syria Yemen (Republic)--Aden Singapore Australia Borneo China--Hong Kong England--Kent United States New York (State)--New York France--Paris Nigeria South Africa--Cape Town Yugoslavia Norway Portugal Spain Denmark Japan Belgium Argentina Austria Brazil Canada Chile Greece China Lithuania Estonia England--Weybridge Scotland--Island of Arran England--Kingston upon Thames France--Dunkerque England--Hatfield (Hertfordshire) Newfoundland and Labrador New Brunswick Maine Maine--Presque Isle Washington (D.C.) Massachusetts--Boston Pennsylvania--Philadelphia Maryland--Baltimore Washington (D.C.)--Anacostia Tennessee--Nashville Arkansas--Little Rock Texas--Dallas Texas--Fort Worth Texas--Midland Arizona--Tucson California--Burbank (Los Angeles County) California--Palm Springs California--Los Angeles California--Beverly Hills California--San Diego Arizona--Winslow New Mexico--Albuquerque Kansas--Wichita Missouri--Saint Louis Ohio--Dayton New York (State)--Buffalo Ontario--Toronto Québec--Montréal Newfoundland and Labrador--Gander Netherlands--Eindhoven Germany--Rheine Germany--Osnabrück India Switzerland--Zurich Lebanon--Beirut Pakistan--Karachi India--Kolkata Singapore Indonesia--Jakarta Australia Northern Territory--Darwin New South Wales--Sydney South Australia--Woomera South Australia--Adelaide Victoria--Melbourne Sri Lanka--Colombo Spain--Madrid South Africa--Johannesburg Kenya--Nairobi Sudan--Khartoum Greece--Athens Italy--Rome Zambia--Lusaka Zambia--Ndola Zambia--Mbala Heathrow Airport (London, England) Turkey--Istanbul France--Nice Utah--Salt Lake City Italy--Genoa Atlantic Ocean--Firth of Clyde Italy France Arizona Arkansas California Kansas Maryland Massachusetts Missouri New Mexico New York (State) Ohio Tennessee Texas Utah New South Wales South Australia Victoria Northern Territory Egypt Sudan North Africa Ontario Québec Germany Indonesia Iraq Kenya Lebanon Netherlands South Africa Switzerland Pakistan Sri Lanka Turkey Yemen (Republic) Czech Republic Slovakia England--Gloucestershire England--Hampshire England--Herefordshire England--Lincolnshire England--Suffolk England--Surrey England--Sussex England--Great Yarmouth Mexico Zambia Pennsylvania Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Royal Air Force Royal Navy Language A language of the resource eng Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Text. Memoir Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 82 typewritten sheets Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1971-08-16 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context MLovattP1821369-190903-75 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Maureen Clarke Peter Bradbury aircrew Anson B-17 B-24 Battle Blenheim C-47 Chadwick, Roy (1893-1947) Defiant Dominie Fw 190 ground crew Halifax Harvard Hudson Hurricane Lancaster Lincoln Lysander Magister Manchester Me 109 Mosquito Oxford Photographic Reconnaissance Unit pilot Proctor RAF Boscombe Down RAF Calshot RAF Eastchurch RAF Hendon RAF Henlow RAF Martlesham Heath RAF North Killingholme RAF Pembrey RAF Prestwick RAF West Freugh Spitfire Stirling Swordfish Tiger Moth training Wallis, Barnes Neville (1887-1979) York https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/2985/53559/SBennettDCT[Ser -DoB]v10047-0001.jpg d65f19a57b1e860bc3c74a2f4cc6ff9f https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/2985/53559/SBennettDCT[Ser -DoB]v10047-0002.jpg 60e4d6df38c651cb0c067ddaacf925b0 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bennett, Donald Clifford Tyndall Don Bennett Donald Bennett Description An account of the resource 77 items. The collection concerns Air Vice Marshall Donald Clifford Tyndall Bennett (1910–1986, Royal Air Force) and contains documents and photographs. He flew operations as a pilot with 77 and 10 Squadrons and was the Air Officer Commanding of 8 Group Bomber Command. The collection was loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by David Kavanagh and catalogued by Nigel Huckins. The collection has been reviewed by Ian Campbell, curator of the Bennett/Vial Archive at the Queensland Air Museum. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2024-04-23 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bennett, DCT Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Civilian registered Lancastrian parked on airport. Description An account of the resource British South American airways Lancastrian G-AWGW "Star Light", First commercial flight from London Airport, Heathrow. London airport to Buenos Aires. AVM Don Bennett in command. On the reverse '1st airliner ex Heathrow, Star Light, ` Jan 1946'. Additional information about this item was kindly provided by the donor. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Associated Newspapers Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1946-01-01 Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1946-01-01 Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. Great Britain Heathrow Airport (London, England) Argentina Argentina--Buenos Aires Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Civilian Type The nature or genre of the resource Photograph Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource One b/w photograph Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SBennettDCT[Ser#-DoB]v10047 Conforms To An established standard to which the described resource conforms. Geolocated Language A language of the resource eng Bennett, Donald Clifford Tyndall (1910-1986) C-47 Lancastrian https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/236/31386/BCooperFACooperFAv2.1.pdf d99f4a71a81ce421d47cf16020499e43 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Cooper, Frances Anne Frances Anne Cooper Frances A Cooper Frances Cooper F A Cooper F Cooper Description An account of the resource Four items. An oral history interview with Frances Anne Cooper (b. 1931), a memoir, family history and a photograph. The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Frances Cooper and catalogued by Nigel Huckins. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2017-08-10 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Cooper, FA Transcribed document A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Transcription Text transcribed from audio recording or document March 2005 [underlined] For the grand children. [/underlined] This is a brief outline of your family history. I have tried to make sure that any suppositions are clearly distinguishable from the truth. Obviously judgements about character are either hear-say or subjective; I hope you can tell which are which. Please excuse the repetitions from previous notes and press-cuttings. There are photographs of family members back to the late 1800's in a separate album. I have arranged the branches of the family tree and put various personal items in groups according to lineage. (This paper has been rescued from a Braine photograph album, circa 1914 – the historic touch!) [page break] 2 [underlined] Recent History. [/underlined] John Cooper and Frances Braine met at R.A.F. Feltwell and married in 1953. Apart from nearly two years living in a caravan, their married life has been spent, as you know in Sandhurst where Anne & Clare were born. John's civilian career was as an Air Traffic Controller near London Airport; Frances stayed at home with the family until the early 1970's when she trained as a Primary School Teacher and worked mainly Owlsmoor for twelve years. In his spare time John became an R.A.F.V.R. Officer with the Air Training Corps in Camberley, and then transferred to an Air Experience Flight to fly Chipmunks. He spent any other spare time as an avid butterfly collector. After retirement he became interested in railway trains, and then, aged nearly 80, became a leading light in the local Big Band Society. Frances trained as a caseworker for SSAFA. [page break] 3 [underlined] The Coopers [/underlined] John (known as Jack) Cooper married Anne Maud Anderson in 1922. They had two sons, John (b 1924) and David (b 1928). David married Patricia Jesty by whom he had three daughters. Nicola, Philippa and Jackie. David and Pat divorced and he later married a much younger divorcee, Dee Duncan and went with her to live in Spain. That marriage failed too. David worked as an Air Traffic Controller for Vickers and suffered from a serious lung complaint, bronchiectasis, which he contracted while doing National Service with the R.A.F. He died aged 69 after many years of ill health which he bore most bravely. I have not been able to discover much about Annie’s background. She was born in Royston where her mother, Rebecca, lived. Rebecca’s father Reuben worked as a labourer in the area. We believe that Annie may have been illegitimate. [words missing] [page break] 4 maternal grand-parents but thinks his grand-mother may have been a Mrs Oliver who lived in Bradford. This seems to be confirmed by the entry for 11 th April in Annie’s birthday book and the Death Certificate for June 1962. (Solar was a childish version of Oliver). Annie, to my knowledge, was very close to a Florence Ward who was married to a market trader in the Barking/Plaistow area. Flo and Annie looked alike but we have been unable to prove any family connection. Jack was one of four sons and one daughter of Levi Cooper and Susannah Sayer. The family lived in Sheringham and their antecedents came from the surrounding area. Jack’s brother Walter was killed in World War One on the Somme in 1916. Charlie and Albert moved away in adulthood. His sister Susan married a local policeman (surname Sayer. but no relation) and lived with him in Norfolk all her life. She became a very enthusiastic member of the British Legion, having been greatly [indecipherable words] 5 Levi was, so I believe, a hard drinking [underlined] and [/underlined] hard working builder in the North Norfolk area. Previous members of the Cooper and Sayer family seem to have been casual workers and have proved hard to trace. Jack Cooper was adamant that none was a fisherman although there were many Sheringham Coopers who worked at sea. Jack served as a signaller in the R.F.C. In Mesopotamia in world war one, then joined the General Post Office, was a clerk at Sheringham & head post master in Aylsham. He was recalled to the R.A.F. In world war two and later became post master in Farnborough where he finally settled. He was a keen gardener (chrysanthemum expert) Free Mason and bowls player. Annie was a traditional housewife. Both Jack and Annie were very kind in-laws and grandparents. Annie, in particular was a devoted grandmother. [page break] 6 [underlined] The Braines. [/underlined] T.G. Braine (know as George) married Cicely Jones in 1931. They had met on a blind date organised by Elliott (Braine) who had gone to kindergarten in Leytonstone with Cicely and her Sister Gwenfair. The idea was to make up a foursome; Elliott and Gwenfair did not continue the relationship but the other two married in less than six months. George was on leave from his job as an Ordnance Surveyor in Uganda; Cicely was working unhappily in Barclay's Bank in Lombard Street. Cicely's father Frederick was so shocked that he offered to fund a return fare if she changed her mind, but she didn't. George and Cicely lived mostly on safari; Cicely quickly became pregnant with Frances and had a very difficult time before and after giving birth. George's terms of service involved two and a half year tours in Uganda and six months home leave. During the [missing words] [page break] 7 together spent in [indecipherable word], George contracted pneumonia which deteriorated with an abcess on the lung and nearly died. (All this was a result of getting soaked to the skin while sailing, and before penicillin). After the next tour in Uganda George and Cicely decided to buy a house for Cicely and Frances to live in while he did the last tour on his own. It was considered unhealthy for European children to live for too long in the tropic. As it turned out, World War 2 broke out and owning the cottage in Brent Eleigh was a massive stroke of luck. However, it must have been a very difficult time in the marriage, George on his own in Uganda and Cicely with a small child in a remote village in Suffolk in the middle of a war. My memories of Brent Eleigh are vague. We kept Dalmatian dogs, a cat call Timmy and, I think rabbits. Cicely had help in the large garden from a man called Fred Orbell. I used to fetch the milk every morning from [words missing]. [page break] 8 exciting, with troop convoys an influx of American airmen, and evacuees (awful). Gwenfair used to come and stay and the Braines visited from time to time. Mother became the telephone contact (number Lavenham 279) for Sergeant Poulson of the Home Guard; occasionally she had to wake him up in the middle of the night. In the early years of the war I went to school in Lavenham and Acton, but after George finally returned in 1941, I went to Fleet House, first in Long Melford and then in Felixstowe. George was unable to find war work, apart from the Royal Observer Corps, and devoted his time to intensive gardening. We had lovely fruit and vegetables & kept ducks, geese and bees. He worked really hard and so did Cicely, in the house and picking fruit and making jam and filing Kilner jars with the soft fruit. Gradually the labour (although of love) and worries about house maintenance, drove George to leave Brent Eleigh, much to Cicely’s [indecipherable word] 9 and buy a house in Sudbury. After 1941, family life from my point of view at least deteriorated considerably. Cicely , many years later said that George had changed after his last tour, and had become quite bad tempered. I believe that their marriage was very happy all the same, but I must have felt jealous, I suppose, of the competition for Cicely's attention. George felt that he had been badly treated financially by the Colonial Service, and also by the Inland Revenue. He seemed to spend hours writing furious letters, and fulminating. They first moved to a Thirties' house in Stanley Road, Sudbury, divided it into two flats and rented out the lower on to generate some income. This was a very unsuccessful arrangement, so eventually they moved to a new bungalow in Weeting. Very soon after the move, George died aged 63 and Cicely was left isolated in a insalubrious [words missing] [page break] 10 American service families from R.A.F. Lakenheath. Meanwhile, I had left school in Felixstowe and then gone to the High School in Sudbury. From there, after a year's Commercial Course in Ipswich I joined the W.R.A.F., married and settled in Sandhurst. We tried to see as much of Cicely as possible but it was difficult with small children and shift work. She used to come to stay but did not like leaving the garden for too long. Eventually she managed to move to her flat in Beech Hill House and for a few years really enjoyed life. She was greatly saddened by her younger sister Gwenfair's early death, and gradually her own health started to fail. She endured a long and painful physical decline before moving to a Residential home in Sandhurst. She died aged 89. [page break] 11 [underlined] The Braines / Hudsons / McCalls. [/underlined] T. (George) was born in 1898 to Thomas Elliott Braine and Janet (Hudson). He was the oldest of five children, Beatrice, twins Elliott & Janet, who was killed as a child in a road accident, and Margaret. Tom was a Trinity House Pilot, a well-paid and prestigious job; the family moved from the East End of London to more respectable Leytonstone. Unfortunately, because his job was dependent on tides and weather, Tom spent much of his time hanging about in the docks; he eventually died comparatively young of complication from syphilis. Before then the family lived comfortably – George and Elliott boarded at Chigwell School and Beatrice and Margaret went to a Masonic School, in North London, I think George enlisted in the R.F.C. But by the end of World War I, his father had died and he felt responsible for his mother and siblings who were very hard-up. His father had wanted him to become a Trinity House Pilot – the profession seemed to pass from father to eldest son - [page break] [page missing] 13 cared for her during a series of strokes. After their husbands died, Beatrice and Margaret lived next door to each other in flats in Chalk. Margaret inherited Beatrices' personal treasures and some from their mother, all of which finally came to me, the only grand-child, and hence to my children and, I hope, to you all! The eldest sons in the Braine family seem to have been Thames Watermen back to the early 1800's. T-George had a cousin, George Duncan Braine who was a Trinity House Pilot and his grand-father George Matthew was one as well; he died of cirrhosis of the liver! There was also a cousin, Robertson, who tried to be an actor, and after a career as a gigolo, according to Margaret, married an older woman who was very rich with money from Cyclax, a cosmetic company. They lived together on the Riviera. Janet Hudson’s father was a marine engineer, chief, I believe, to the Hudson shipping line; he retired to a very grand looking house in Pewsey. Janet had a brother Willy, and sister Edie, neither of whom married; they lived 14 near her in Leytonstone. Janet's mother, also Janet (McCall) came from Strone on the Holy Loch. This explains the silver flat ware with the initial M. The McCalls had some connection with the Tennant family which I cannot trace. Janet and Catherine Tennant are mentioned in a poem by Robert Burns and Margaret says Catherine is the lady in the enamel and diamond mourning locket. Although Burns died in 1796 I suppose it is possible as she looks very old in the photograph. Janet Braine (nee Hudson) was inordinately proud of the 'aristocratic' connection. [underlined] The McCall Silver [/underlined] of Tennant Family on Google. Towards the end of the 1700's William Tennant was a farmer in Argyle. He had a large family, about ten, one of whom must have been Catherine, in the locket, and one of whom invented a chemical bleach for textiles, which was successful she had a factory in Glasgow, and made a fortune. One of Catherine's children, Margaret, married John McCall and no doubt used some of the family money to buy the silver. Q.E.D.! [page break] 15 *See his separate memoir. [underlined] The Jones/Hornsbys. [/underlined] Cicely, born 1907, was the daughter of Edith Hornsby and Frederick Jones. She had an older brother Hugh and a younger sister Gwenfair. Hugh was clumsy (which annoyed his father) but clever, good looking and a womaniser; he joined the Merchant Navy became a very young captain, and, at the beginning of World War II, was Harbour Master in Rangoon, he escaped to [deleted] Australia [/deleted] India just as the Japanese were arriving*. He left his wife and they were eventually divorced. After a hard war, partly on North Atlantic convoys, and various amorous entanglements he settled in New Zealand with a much younger woman and became a T.V. Presenter. Gwenfair had caught measles as a child and was quite deaf. She became a hairdresser with her own shop in Loughton. During World War II she was conscripted to work in a munitions factory and eventually married (according to Cicely) a ne-er-do-well Irishman; he died young leaving her with two children Brigid and Hugh, whom she supported [missing words] [page break] 16 very young of Multiple Sclerosis and Hugh emigrated to New Zealand and, I believe, converted to Serious Christianity. Edith (nee Hornsby) died of throat cancer when her children were adolescents and Frederick soon married again, this made Cicely and Gwenfair very unhappy and they left home. The Hornsbys lived near Saltburn in Yorkshire. Cicely's grandfather Michael was a farmer and she and her family spent happy summer holidays harvesting. Her cousins seemed to have been very bright and became lawyers and top civil servants. Her uncle Harold died on the Somme; her aunt Nancy was in Russia at the time of the Revolution and escaped with the Russian tea-spoons (with Clare). An other aunt Gertrude was married to an engineer in India called Selby, she died young and Selby became engaged for a short time to Cicely before she met George Braine! Edith was a student at the Royal College of Music and living in Hampstead when she met Frederick Jones who was [missing words] [page break] 17 his brother Robert. Their father Thomas (perhaps nee Johns, not Jones) married to Anne Hildred from Boston, Lincolnshire (but no other details) was a school master in Bury St Edmunds: they had a very large, mostly clever family. Marian, known as Daisy, read Mathematics at Bangor. I believe before women were awarded degrees. She taught at the Welsh Girls' School (now St. David's, Ashford) where her sister Anne became an influential head mistress. Another sister Elsie was a nurse and a brother, Harold, taught English at the University in Uruguay. Frederick worked as an accountant at the head office of Barclay's Bank but hated it. He was called up in World War I, was gassed and lost an eye. The story goes that Thomas was descended from a Johns family from Cardigan whose ancestor had helped repel the French invasion c1797 and as a reward had been made a Governor of Cardigan gaol. This is unconfirmed, but the Joneses were upright and honest to a degree so seem unlikely [missing words] Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Cooper family history For the grandchildren Description An account of the resource A brief family history. Recent history. Describes meeting John Cooper at Feltwell in 1953 and early life together. John was a civilian air traffic controller at Heathrow and became an RAFVR officer with the air training corps. Provides a family history of the Coopers followed by one for the Braines and their time in Uganda and then back in UK including description of events during the war. Follows family history of the Braines/Hudsons/McCalls followed by the Jones and Herusbys. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource Sixteen page handwritten document Language A language of the resource eng Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context BCooperFACooperFAv2 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Civilian Conforms To An established standard to which the described resource conforms. Pending review Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. Uganda Great Britain Heathrow Airport (London, England) Heathrow Airport (London, England) Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Jan Waller https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/1401/27150/MMooreD1603117-160524-150001.jpg 234043a38ca0e46a7c1b188e57cab6e8 https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/1401/27150/MMooreD1603117-160524-150002.jpg 2e3334d14679344826ea720bb99b7de5 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Moore, Dennis D Moore Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2015-05-06 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Moore, D Description An account of the resource 37 items and two albums. The collection concerns (1923 - 2010, 1603117, 153623 Royal Air Force) and contains his log books, documents, photographs and two albums. He flew operations as a navigator with 218 and 15 Squadrons. Album one contains photographs of his family and his training in Canada. Album Two contains photographs of his service in the Far East. The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Terrence D Moore and catalogued by Barry Hunter. Transcribed document A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Transcription Text transcribed from audio recording or document Dennis MOORE [heading] Dates – Events [/heading] 1941 – Home town WALLIINGTON [sic] Surrey. Volunteered for RAF Aircrew. Accepted for Deferred Service. 1942 – Joined R.A.F. as U/T Aircrew. 1942-1943 – ITW Newquay – Elected to train as Navigator. No. 1 CNS RIVERS Manitoba. Qualified as Nav 1/10/1943 (Ansons) Jan-April 1944 – No. 1 (O) AFU WIGTON, Scotland. (Ansons) May-July 1944 – No. 12 OTU CHIPPING WARDEN/EDGEHILL (Wellingtons) August 1944 – No., 1658 Conversion Unit CHEDBURGH (Stirlings) September 1944 – No. 3 LFS FELTWELL (Lancasters) September 1944 – No. 218 (Goldcoast) Squadron METHWOLD (3 GROUP) 10 ‘Ops’ (6 Daylight Formation-4 Night-time) 28 November 1944 – Transferred to No. XV Squadron MILDENHALL with Skipper promoted to Squadron Commander. 14 April 1945 – Completed Operational tour of 33 Sorties (21 Day Formation – 12 Night-time) Master Bomber on Daylight to SCHWAMMENUAL DAM & Led Formation/Group/Squadron on most Daylight Formations. July 1945 – No. 109 Transport OTU CROSBY-ON-EDEN (Dakotas). October 1945 – No. 52 Squadron Transport Command (Dakotas) DUM-DUM Calcutta. All routes to Hong Kong via Rangoon, Bangkok and Saigon. November 1946 – ‘Demob’ RAF. Join Silver City Airways (Lancastrian, VIP Dakota, Wayfarer etc.) Charter flying. Set new record (10/12/46)- of 4.55 hrs Heathrow to Malta!! First Class Civil Navigators Licence No. 2116 November 1948 – Joined Flota Aerea Mercante Argentina (subsequently Argentine Airways) (Yorks). Left January 1949 after Eva Peron decree limiting numbers of non-nationals in FAMA. Routes Buenos Aires to Madrid and London. January 1949 – Joined Flight Refuelling on BERLIN AIRLIFT. Flying Petrol In Lancastrians. Completed 98 sorties. [page break] May 1951 – Rejoined RAF _ CNCS SHAWBURY (Wellington Mk XI) October 1951 – No. 5 ANS LINDHOLME. Navigation Instructor (Valetta & Wellington X) September 1952 – Headquarters Flying Training Command – Command Examination Unit. (Setting and marking all Final Navigation exams for Pilots & Navigators.) April 1954 – Command Search & Rescue Officer HQ FTC. (Anson!, Balliol & Canberra B2) January 1955 – Royal Radar Establishment – TFU Defford. Radar etc Development trials (Lincoln, Canberra, Devon, Ashton, Hastings, Dakota, Meteor, Vampire, Wayfarer, Marathon, Valetta, Varsity, Shackleton & Whirlwind.) November 1957 – Unit renamed RRFU & moved to PERSHORE. July 1959 – USA – Thor Missile systems training. December 1959 – No. 82 Squadron SHEPHERDS GROVE (Thor missiles) Launch Control Officer. Returned to USA 1961 to fire missile returned to VANDENBERG AFB from 82 Squadron. May 1962 – Appointed to FELTWELL Categorization Flight to carry out Launch Crew categorizations on all Squadrons of Feltwell complex. April 1963 – Commanding Officer No. 721 Mobile Signals Unit METHWOLD. Unit moved to LINDHOLME late 1963. (Bombplot for ‘V’ Force) November 1964 – Retired from RAF 1964-1984 – Various appointments as Training Officer. (all in Construction, Engineering and Printing Industries) 1984-TPD – Self-employed as Training & Computer Consultant. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Dennis Moore List of Experience Description An account of the resource A list of postings completed by Dennis from 1941 to 1984. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Dennis Moore Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource Two printed sheets Language A language of the resource eng Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context MMooreD1603117-160524-150001, MMooreD1603117-160524-150002 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Civilian Royal Air Force Royal Air Force. Bomber Command Royal Air Force. Transport Command Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. Great Britain England--Wallington Garden England--Newquay Canada Manitoba China--Hong Kong Burma--Rangoon Thailand--Bangkok Malta Heathrow Airport (London, England) Argentina--Buenos Aires Spain--Madrid England--London Germany--Berlin India--Kolkata Vietnam--Ho Chi Minh City Spain Germany Burma China India Thailand Vietnam England--Cornwall (County) England--Cumberland United States California California--Vandenberg Air Force Base England--Middlesex England--Northumberland Germany--Schwammenual Dam Europe--Roer River Argentina Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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 An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Tricia Marshall 12 OTU 15 Squadron 1658 HCU 218 Squadron 3 Group 52 Squadron Advanced Flying Unit aircrew Anson C-47 Heavy Conversion Unit Initial Training Wing Lancaster Lancaster Finishing School Lancastrian Lincoln master bomber Meteor navigator Operational Training Unit RAF Carlisle RAF Chedburgh RAF Chipping Warden RAF Feltwell RAF Lindholme RAF Methwold RAF Mildenhall RAF Pershore RAF Shawbury RAF Shepherds Grove RAF Wigtown RCAF Rivers Shackleton Stirling training Wellington York https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/1401/27313/LMooreD1603117v3.2.pdf d8d6cf6ce43996cae19c8d76e4db597b Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Moore, Dennis D Moore Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2015-05-06 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Moore, D Description An account of the resource 37 items and two albums. The collection concerns (1923 - 2010, 1603117, 153623 Royal Air Force) and contains his log books, documents, photographs and two albums. He flew operations as a navigator with 218 and 15 Squadrons. Album one contains photographs of his family and his training in Canada. Album Two contains photographs of his service in the Far East. The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Terrence D Moore and catalogued by Barry Hunter. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Dennis Moore's personal flying book, Thrre Description An account of the resource Ministry of Civil Aviation personal flying log book for D Moore, covering the period from 8 November 1946 to 10 July 1949. He flew with Silver City airways from London Heathrow and Blackbushe, with Flota Area Mercante Argentina from Beunos Aires, Flight Refuelling Ltd from Tarrant Rushton Airport. Aircraft flown in were Lancastrian, Dakota, Sandringham, DC4, Mosquito, Lodestar, Constellation, DC3, Wayfarer, Freighter and York. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Dennis Moore Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource One booklet Language A language of the resource eng Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Text. Log book and record book Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context LMooreD1603117v3 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Royal Air Force Civilian Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. Argentina Great Britain Argentina--Buenos Aires England--Dorset England--Hampshire England--London Heathrow Airport (London, England) Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1946 1947 1948 1949 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Conforms To An established standard to which the described resource conforms. Review Oct 2024 aircrew C-47 fuelling Lancastrian Mosquito navigator RAF Tarrant Rushton York Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. Heathrow Airport (London, England) Title A name given to the resource Heathrow Airport [entry point] London Airport, London Heathrow Description An account of the resource This page is an entry point for a place. Please use the links below to see all relevant documents available in the Archive. https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/658/8931/AWrightJDFC150608.mp3 2c2065e5f04be44ec28cab39fdb0646c Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Wright, James Albert James Wright DFC A J Wright Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Wright, JDFC Description An account of the resource An oral history interview with Jim Wright DFC (- 2022, 134563, 1503927 Royal Air Force). He flew operations as navigator with 61, 97 and 630 Squadrons. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2015-06-08 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Transcribed audio recording A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice. Transcription Text transcribed from audio recording or document SB: This is Sheila Bibb interviewing Jim Wright at his home in Abingdon on the 8th of June 2015. Jim, you say you were born in Creswell in Nottinghamshire. Could you tell me a little about your childhood? Your family. JW: Yes. I can. I was born in Creswell Model Village which is a mining village in Nottinghamshire quite close to Worksop. My father had been a miner before the war. He and my mother were born in the Victorian age. My father was born in 1894. My mother 1896. They met whilst my father was a private soldier having volunteered like Kitchener in the First World War. And in the process of that with all his mates, mostly miners, in the Sherwood Foresters and the battalion known as the Notts and Derby’s and they went for training in Northumberland to Tynemouth, just north of the River Tyne. I remember my, my father’s headquarters was based in the Grand Hotel, a rather nice hotel in Tynemouth beach and here his mates would do their training along the beaches of Tynemouth and Whitley Bay and they would use the firing ranges alongside St Marys Lighthouse in Whitley Bay. A very prominent feature all together. During that training he met, as was quite normal in war with a young man aged twenty one, twenty two, a couple of Tyneside lasses down for the weekend or something like that. And my mother came from a little village on the River Tyne called Point Pleasant. Her father was an engine man at a port. I think he handled trains and fork lift trucks and things like that on the quayside in a shipbuilding area. But it was no trouble for young ladies in those days to travel to the seafront at Tynemouth or Whitley Bay. It was a day out, I suppose. It weren’t very far away, a few miles, and there she met my father. This would be about 1915 I think just before they went to the trenches for the first time. In 1916 my father had already had several Blighty wounds as they called it. Had been brought back to the UK, patched up and sent back again but in 1916 and I think it was on Boxing Day 1916 he and his, my mother decided to get married by special licence and they did this on the coast. Somewhere near Redcar I think. In Yorkshire is it? Or Durham? I’m not sure. They got married and off he went to the trenches without any honeymoon or anything. That was the way in those days. The next time she saw him he was only a year older but he had a military medal for gallantry and he had no left arm. What a difference that left arm made. Anyway, they eventually finished the war and they had five children. A boy, my eldest brother. A girl, my eldest sister. I was the third member and then two younger sisters. The boy and the eldest girl have passed away now. I’m still alive and so are my two younger sisters but they’re getting on. I think they’re eighty eight, eighty nine. In fact I’m not sure. And one of them is ninety now and another close by eighty seven, eighty eight. We lived initially in Creswell Model Village in Nottinghamshire but my mother never ever got used to being a miners wife and of course when my father came back to live in Creswell Model Village where I was born [pause] he could not because he had no left arm. He couldn’t work at the coal face as they used to call it and he had disappointing jobs to start with in the Creswell Colliery which was very close by the model village. And then of course they had the Great Strike didn’t they in 1926 and I can remember vividly my father with his one arm tucking me up on a cushion on the [Boss farthing bicycle?] and going out in to the woods and so forth to find branches of wood that he could carry back on a bicycle because in those days the miners stopped delivering their free coal and they were unemployed and they were out for many months. I’ve never forgotten the sight of my father when I was about three years old I suppose going out to get fuel because we had no coal. I’ve never forgotten that. My mother was a Tynesider. She came from Scottish parents up in Aberdeen somewhere but she had married in to this Tyneside family and she said, ‘I will never accept that my sons will become miners or that my daughters will become perhaps married to miners.’ There were too many accidents in the coalmining business. It was a very hazardous occupation. And sure enough she took the smaller children with her for a holiday to Whitley Bay, Tynemouth area about 1928/29 and she came back and she persuaded her husband, who was unemployed, ‘Why don’t we move to the north? We can always make a living doing bed and breakfast at the seaside.’ ‘Ok,’ says dad. My mother was the brains behind the family. Anyway, when I was about eight years old, seven maybe, we moved first of all to Cullercoats. A lovely little fishing village, a marvellous little holiday place just temporarily while they looked for somewhere better and then they ended up renting a house in Whitley Bay and then eventually they, with great courage in those days I think since they were literally destitute people they managed to buy a house in what we call North Parade very close to the seafront in Whitley Bay and my mother started with her dream of making a home for her family using bed and breakfast for holidaymakers mostly from the Glasgow area, in Whitley bay. The five children developed there. They were educated. At that time of course I was the only one, in the middle of the family, to gain entrance to the high school. A grammar school type in Whitley. Monkseaton High School. It had been built in ’14, 1914 as a grammar school and they were very proud of it in Whitley Bay but my brother and my sisters all ended up leaving school at fourteen and their main object was to get a living anywhere, butcher’s boys, dress shops, whatever. I was lucky. I managed to get a scholarship to the grammar school, the high school as they called it. And when I was sixteen I suppose, late 1938, I matriculated. I was very fortunate. I had a classics master there who gave me a [Latin?] in that year, 1938. And he said to my parents quietly, ‘Your son could do worse than go to Durham University with the intent to get a Classics degree like mine.’ He was a Northumbrian and he spoke their language. Tyneside. My parents looked at each other and they said, ‘Sorry. The two older ones are leaving the nest but the two younger ones have yet to finish, they have yet to go to school and I’m afraid we need income rather than the possibilities for the future.’ So I never did get the Classics education. I would have liked to have tried. SB: Yes. Instead of that, after matriculation I went for the civil service examination. A quite common thing to do with young people who were seventeen, eighteen, and I ended up, in 1939 by being a house captain, a prefect, and the school were very kind. They let me stay on in the sixth form whilst I completed these exams in January ‘39 and I ended up in April as a young civil servant, as an employment clerk. In the, what do they call it, Ministry of Labour and National Service. It’s a long time ago. And I spent, I think it was three months, at a school in Newcastle in New Bridge Street which was the headquarters of a very large employment exchange and we had a special teacher. They used to call them Third Class Officers I remember and we had about ten or twelve people from throughout Durham, Tyneside who had joined up in this Ministry of Labour and National Service as young employment clerks like me. We went to school every day. We found out what we had to do and eventually we passed our course and we started work and I remember we found out how to do it at New Bridge Street, how to do our work. And then I was posted to Ashington, a mining village and I used to commute from Whitley Bay and Monkseaton to Ashington via a little proper steam railway and then I was posted from there to Walker on Tyne and I carried on my job until, after a series of incidents, I joined the Royal Air Force. I had tried to join the Fleet Air Arm first, when I was eighteen and I had failed on eyesight tests because I wanted to be a pilot. Like all the young men in 1940. I was so impressed with Spitfires and Hurricanes but I failed in the medical test for pilot and the Board of Admiralty in London sent me away for three months and said, ‘Your eyesight is not good but it may be something that will recover. Come back.’ And in December ‘40 I went back to London and I met a lot of very impressive medical officers with lots of gold braid and things and they said, ‘Jim, I’m sorry to say that your eyesight still remains below par for pilot training but,’ they said, ‘You know you are educationally qualified to become an officer as an observer in the Navy and we need observers. Pilots are ten a penny. You can train them, you know, you just have to run around. The observer is the brains in the outfit. Would you like to be commissioned and join us?’ ‘No.’ I didn’t think I would. I was still full of aspirations to be a Spitfire pilot so I went back to my job as an employment clerk but in May ‘41 in company with two of my old schoolmates we decided we would all join the Royal Air Force and we went back to Newcastle upon Tyne to the recruiting office there and the sergeant who looked at us and said, ‘Are you interested in applying?’ ‘Yes.’ We were. ‘Ok. Well this is what you do. First of all the medical.’ I passed my medical but the other two didn’t. One whom I’d grown up with and he was my close schoolmate was a diabetic and didn’t think about it. Eventually he became the best man at my marriage later, two years later. And he died. He became blind and then died. The other one had flat feet and was called up eventually by the army and within six weeks of being posted to York I think, he died during a route march. Some mysterious heart complaint. I went to see him when I happened to be on holiday after being sick for a while. I had ten days sick leave. I went back to Whitley Bay. Still was an airman under training. I met his parents and his body was lying in there in their, in the sitting room and his mother said, ‘Would you like to see Duncan?’ I said, ‘Yes.’ I’d never seen a dead person before. Anyway, that was my introduction. By this time I was, although I was fit for pilot training in the RAF, where my eyes suddenly seemed to have mysteriously got better or something but by this time the RAF said, ‘Well I’m sorry but we’ve got thousands of pilots but we’re desperately short of navigators. If you like you can do a tour on navigation and when you’re finished you can convert to pilot training.’ So I said, ‘Ok.’ That’s my early life. Should I carry on from there? SB: Why not? Why not. SB: Yes. Well from May 1941 we had to wait. We had been accepted for training as a navigator but it wasn’t until September that year that we were called up and we went to Regents Park in London and we spent a fortnight there getting uniform, learning how to march, going for medicals of all sorts. I remember everyone laughed about at the time but I remember being in a long line of young men and they were tall, fat, thin, short. All kinds of people. But they were generally speaking physically fit. Generally speaking. They needed putting into shape but medically they were fit. A long line of them and a young medical officer would come with a stick and, ‘Drop your trousers, the whole lot.’ Free from infection they called it. Everyone remembers this. It was the same for them all. Anyway, after a fortnight we were posted to Catterick in Yorkshire for what they called initial training wing. Catterick was interesting because it was also the home of army training at a very big army depot at Catterick but sixty of us ended up at RAF Catterick in a special little, what do they call it, unit of its own with its own squadron leader, education officer and flight sergeant who was a disciplinarian and maybe a couple of teachers to teach the basics of flying and so on but we got to a separate unit. We were sent to live in a country house which had been specially requisitioned for the purpose and we slept there and our flight sergeant would march us every morning four miles there. Good for you those were the terms. Smarten up. And then four miles back again. We did everything on the camp. We just slept there. But of course it was that time of year. Wintertime. And apart from an army Lysander unit, that’s an army air corp, they had a Beaufighter unit, night fighters, there and one day the station commander said to the station warrant officer, ‘I want you to organise snow clearance tonight.’ Big forecast. Snow. ‘I want the airfield swept so that the Beaufighters can operate.’ ‘Yes, sir.’ But the station warrant officer was a busy man. In RAF terms he was a very important man. He commanded all the people in the manpower department of the station. He was the boss. The station commander knew it, the station warrant officer knew it, everybody else knew it and the station warrant officer came to my squadron leader in the Initial Training Wing Department and he said, ‘Sir, with great respect, my chaps work night and day doing their ordinary work on the airfield. I can’t really expect them all to turn out to do snow clearing initially until I have to.’ But, ‘Sir, with respect your chaps are just [?]. They are, to some extent, surplus at the moment for the next few days so I’m going to ask you if you wouldn’t mind I want your fifty trainees to start the snow clearing tonight.’ So we did. So we all got our brooms and our shuttles and of course it snowed and snowed and we got soaking wet but we still had to march because we had nowhere else to sleep. After two or three days of this I got a cold. It was a nasty cold. I was used to getting colds in the northeast but this was a bad one because we were literally walking with wet clothes, no heat, no nothing and one of my mates in the morning time said to me, ‘Jim, you don’t look very good.’ I said, ‘No, I feel awful.’ He said, ‘I’ll go and have a word with the flight sergeant.’ He went to the flight sergeant who had a little room all of his own and we used to sleep up and down in great big rooms and things and he said to the flight sergeant, ‘Jim Wright’s not very well.’ ‘So what,’ said the flight sergeant? ‘Well, could you fix transport or something for him?’ ‘I aint got any transport.’ he said. ‘We walk. I’m sorry. If he can walk he will.’ And we marched four miles back. Of course I reported to sick quarters and the Doc took one look at me and he said, ‘You’ve got a temperature of a hundred and four young man.’ ‘Oh yes?’ I said. ‘How do you feel?’ ‘Awful.’ He said, ‘I’m sending you to Catterick army camp hospital immediately. I think you’ve got bronchial pneumonia.’ ‘Thank you, sir.’ So I ended up in the army hospital. I never saw anything but the hospital beds. And after ten days I think they used to have something called [metacreme?] but nothing like penicillin or anything antibiotics. It was some awful thing that turns you yellow I think. But in the end I got better and they said, ‘We’re going to send you off on ten days sick leave. Get all railway warrants and rations and things.’ Well I’d only been in the air force for two or three months and I didn’t really know anything about anything but I was so pleased with the railway warrant to go home in comfort rather than hitching or anything like that and my mother was so grateful to get the rations. Butter and things like that. Not important to me but important to her. Anyway, I recovered, finished our ITW training and we went off to Eastbourne College on the south coast at Eastbourne and we, we stayed at this famous Grand Hotel. I’d heard radio programmes, I knew, on Sunday afternoons I think but for the first time I was introduced to what it was like to actually live in a great big hotel on the seafront at Eastbourne. It was very interesting. Can we just stop? Stop for a minute. [pause] JW: Can we just have the last sentence about Eastbourne? Eastbourne College we were going to. SB: Hang on. Ok. JW: We were accommodated. SB: Yeah you were accommodated. JW: Yeah. SB: It’s alright JW: Ok. SB: That’s it. JW: Ready. When you are SB: Yeah. Ok. JW: Eastbourne was very interesting. I’d never been to the south coast before. It would seem that at this time in 1941 a lot of the holiday areas on the south coast within ten miles had been more or less taken over by the government. The hotels had been taken over for army, navy, air force units quite often. The basic residents could stay. But it was, it had an awful lot of armed forces in it. Anyway, in Eastbourne, Eastbourne College was a recognised independent school and the government had taken it over. It had moved somewhere else. And they used it for what we call elementary air navigation school training. This was a three month course. Longer than the ITW one. And I remember some of my mates being desperate for cigarettes. People, I don’t think people today realise the extent to which smoking cigarettes, pipe smoking had taken over the nation. People In films were smoking. Everybody thought it was normal to smoke but if they were addicts as some of our young men were this was a very sad thing for them because they couldn’t get cigarettes that they used to be able to buy twenty whenever they wanted. At this time one of my young friends he was desperate for cigarettes and so I used to join the queue with him when he went hunting for cigarette shops, for rations and things and I said to Nobby, ‘Why don’t you just give up?’ ‘Can’t,’ he said. So I would go and buy the ration that was there. It may be ten cigarettes sometimes. They were just goose woodbines in a house and I’d hand them to Nobby and that would keep him happy for a while until the next lot. Cigarette smoking became a problem in the world. It still is. Anyway, we would do, the fifty of us, we would do our training within the Eastbourne College. Tailor made for the job really. Just like school. It was just like school. And they taught us the basics of navigation from the air. They gave us sextants and we said, ‘What do we do with these?’ ‘Ah well,’ they said, ‘When you go home tonight we would like you to practice taking shots of the moon if it’s there. The stars if you can find them.’ This was later on in the course when it developed and we found out what a sextant was, how to use it, air almanacs and things like that all concerned with navigation when you were high up, couldn’t see the ground and your only means of navigation were astro-navigation. Anyway, we used at night time to take our sextants home to the Grand Hotel with us and then operate in pairs in a backstreet just off the seafront and we would, one of us would take notes while the other one actually located the star and took a shot and if you were within a hundred miles of Eastbourne you were doing very well [laughs]. It was a very good training which you had to fall on later but whilst we were there it was beginning spring and the weather was improving and on Wednesday afternoons we were told to go and get fit. Cross country runs, play football, play tennis or skive as they used to call it if you wanted to by saying, ‘I’m a golfer. I’ll go on the golf course.’ ‘Well yes that’s a sport. Yes. Yes you can do that.’ And this man for whom I used to get cigarettes, Nobby, we borrowed, from the professional at the club, some old clubs and a few old balls and we enjoyed the fresh air at the top of the cliff on Eastbourne Golf Course. And while we were pottering about on the very first day I remember it was a lovely summer day. Nice to be alive. It was lovely. Sunshine and blue sky. I remember Nobby saying, ‘Jim, look.’ And there were a pair of ME109s. We knew they were ME109s because we’d done aircraft recognition and we knew. What’s more you could see the Nazi cross on the side of the aeroplane and they were carefree, the pair of them. You could see them. They were only fifteen minutes away from France at the most. From their airfields. And they came over our heads. We said, ‘That won’t bother us. They’re not going to shoot us. They’re wasting their time.’ Well, they turned around and they headed for Eastbourne Railway Station and with their rockets, machine gun fire, cannon fire raked the station and having done a fair bit of damage they disappeared. Nobody came from anywhere to help them or shoot them down or anything. They quite calmly trundled off back to their base in France. That was our very first introduction to ME109s. I’ve never forgotten it. At the end of the course the fifty of us were all posted to Heaton Park in Manchester I think it was. It was a kind of a settling in place for trainee pilots, navigators and so on whilst they waited for the next step in their training. All these people at Heaton Park were going overseas. They could go, some to Rhodesia, they could go to Canada. Some of them even went to Florida to fly with Pan America airfield, Pan America Airways. Anyway, we used to, we used to report every morning at 8 o’clock to see if any of us were wanted to go on convoys or anything like that and every day no news for us so we just idled away again and we got fed up with this. We got tired of waiting and hanging around and one of my friend’s, a chap called Mike Ward said, ‘Jim, would you like to nip into York to see my folks?’ So I said, ‘What’s the plan?’ He said, ‘Well we’ll check up on the Friday morning and if there’s no call out for anywhere we could quietly nip in and get a ticket to York on the railway and we’ll be back by Sunday, by Sunday night ready for Monday morning.’ ‘Sounds good to me.’ I said. So we stuck our necks out and we did this and we got to York and I met Spike’s family. His father owned a garage and Mike was one of these chaps who knew about motorcars. How to drive them. And he also had farmer relatives with farms and he was also familiar too with 22 rifles and shotguns and things. He was way ahead of me. I enjoyed meeting his family. It was nice. But on the way back we got to Crewe Station I think it was. I think we had to change at Crewe and a couple of innocent looking young RAF special police, corporals. Corporal was a powerful man in the RAF when you were just an airman. They sauntered up to us looked us up and down. They always work in pairs these people. But Mike and I were, were happy. We said, ‘Yes, I’m afraid, yeah s we are travelling. We’re going back to base.’ ‘Where’s that?’ They said. ‘Oh Heaton Park.’ ‘Oh. What are you doing now then?’ ‘Oh well we’ve just been to see.’ ‘I see. Have you got your pass?’ ‘Well no.’ ‘Well I’m sorry,’ they said, ‘But that means you’re absent without leave.’ AWL. Mike and I have always had in our service record absent without leave. One day’s pay forfeit. We’ve never forgotten it. Never forgotten it. Anyway, we eventually were sent off. Some of us, we didn’t all go to Canada. Several of us were sent to Pan American Airways in Florida. And we envied them. Oh that must be nice. Florida. Lovely. We’d heard of Florida and we had visions of summer holidays on the beach. Anyway, we didn’t hear any more about those chaps. They disappeared. And we went in turn, I think about twenty five of us, I’m not sure we were posted to Number 13 Air Navigation School at a place called Port Albert near Goderich near on the coast of Lake Huron in Ontario. We sailed in a convoy. I remember the name of the boat it was the SS Letitia. Other people met Letitia at different times during the war as a troopship but for seven days we went up and down and we were seasick just like everybody else because we were not sailors but we made it. We made it to Halifax in Nova Scotia and from there we went on by train and it seemed to be forever. I don’t know how long it was. Two or three days I think. But we ended up anyway at this navigation training school. I think it lasted from about May or June or July I’m not sure until November so there was a time when we were there when we were taken away from our RAF blue as we called the field dress and we were put into the tropical khaki uniform. Shorts and things like that. To cut a long story short I became top of the course and Mike my friend became second. And we had a young Scotsman friend called Scotty Turner who came third and a much more mature chap called Williamson with a moustache. A family man. He must have been in his thirties. You have to remember that most of us were just twenty, twenty one. Which was the about the average age for, for the time. Anyway we also had a group of free French on our course attached. They spoke English when they had to but they spoke their own natural language French when they were off duty. But I don’t know whatever happened to those six free French. Two of them were commissioned. One was a captain and the other one was I think a sub lieutenant. I’m not sure what. Whether they were air force or navy I can’t remember now and the other four were non-commissioned people. Petty officers or something like that. I never saw or heard of them again. Anyway, we had a party at the end of the course and we were given sergeant’s stripes and we pinned them on using our little machinery. We all had our needles and threads and things so we could pin them on and we had a party at the hotel and the next day we were put on a train and all the way up through Ontario, through Quebec, through New Brunswick and we should have gone to Nova Scotia to Halifax but when we got to Moncton on the railway line, it was a stop of some sort there anyway, and we had a couple of Royal Canadian Air Force sergeants approach our party and they said, ‘Are you just coming from, from your training at Goderich?’ ‘Yes,’ we said. ‘What do you want to know for?’ We thought we might have done something wrong. ‘Oh, it’s nothing wrong,’ they said, ‘But, I need these four people. I need these four. Wright, Ward, Williamson, Turner.’ ‘What do you want them for?’ ‘You lucky chaps are going to be commissioned. You can throw away your sergeant’s stripes.’ ‘Oh yeah, that’s very interesting.’ ‘You will be taken by transport to the Royal Canadian Air Force station at Moncton,’ which is just on the outskirts, ‘And there you will go through commissioning procedure. The rest of them are on the way to Halifax. And home.’ We were very pleased about this of course but we had to hang about a bit. I think it was, this was sometime, somewhere in early November and I think it was in early December when we finally were kitted out, uniforms, and were sent on our way to Halifax. For starters of course we were commissioned and that made a tremendous difference. Life as an airman whether you’re UT aircrew or just newly promoted to sergeant was an entirely different matter than if you were pilot officer. Life changed. And so we found that we had better facilities on the train. And when we got to Halifax they said, ‘Oh yes. You’ve got to report to the troop ship and it happens to be the Queen Elizabeth.’ We were overjoyed. We’ll never forget, well I will never forget that four day journey at top speed, without convoys, too fast for the submarines and we got back home to the UK in four days. It was a marvellous experience. I’ve still got copies of the ship’s newspaper, “The Convoy,” now but I’ve had them in an old scrapbook for seventy five years or something. They used to print a daily account in the, in this marvellous liner the Queen Elizabeth which carried thousands of people of course and they would give a daily account of what was happening in the world in the desert, and the Atlantic and the wherever and of course it was important because if I’ve got it right America had just had Pearl Harbour in December ‘41 and this was a year later so the fact that the Americans were in the war made a great difference and this would be reported in those newspapers. Anyway, we had disembarkation leave. I think we all went home for ten days or seven days leave I think. And we were sent to Harrogate in Yorkshire. All of us were sent to Harrogate. It’s a big resettlement unit in a lovely market town miles from London and we were very lucky because not only was it a relatively peaceful place Harrogate but it had it had swimming pools, dance halls, it had beautiful music halls and excellent gardens and a lovely location for walking in the countryside. We were so lucky. The important thing of course for most young twenty one, twenty two year olds was that there were a lot of girls there. The girls came because the government had decided, just before the war, to send a lot of their civil servants from London to a more peaceful place where they could get on with the work in Harrogate and a lot of these girls were civil servants just like I used to be and the same kind of age group. Clerks in the air ministry, contract farms was where I met them and Mike Ward and I were I think on our first day. We were staying in the Queen Hotel just off the Stray in Harrogate. A lovely hotel. The sergeants were in a different hotels, Imperial and places like that but we had an invitation from reception of the Queen Hotel with the Women’s Voluntary Service accept some of you to come and have a cup and a bit of cake, that sort of thing, in a local church hall and we said, ‘Well, why not.’ And the first girl I met was the one I married over two years later. A blond, blue eyed girl who was a little older than I was. Just a little. Her landlady, ‘cause by this time a lot of the girls had moved from being residents in a lady’s college to being shipped out into the local community where they were divided into local houses and looked after themselves in ordinary houses and my future wife’s landlady was also a member of the WVS Women’s Voluntary Service and they were forever giving me cups of tea and cakes and things to soldiers, sailors and airmen. Whoever they were. On this occasion she had taken my future wife with her to this church hall and when, when David Mike Ward and I arrived this WVS lady said, ‘I’d like you to meet a couple of young ladies.’ You’ll do. And Mike and I met these two young ladies. I don’t know if Mike was that interested but I was and I stayed interested for two years. But of course I was a very straightforward young, naïve young man. I believed in marriage. I also believed that it was a sheer waste of time to contemplate marriage in a Lancaster or a Wellington and that was firmly understood. So we’d keep in touch by letter wherever I was and when the adjutant of the squadron, my last squadron called me in and said, ‘Jim. You’re finished.’ And I said [laughs], ‘What do you mean finished?’ He said, ‘Your days of operational flying are over young man.’ I communicated this to my girlfriend. I went to see her, sought her hand in marriage and she agreed. So that was the picture. Now my friend Mike Ward had been lucky enough to meet a charming young lady during our three months in Canada. We had, we had been allowed to hitch to Detroit at weekends. And on our very first visit we met some people of Scottish origin who had friends. They were all concerned with motoring I think because Detroit was a fabulous manufacturing of cars place. They had problems of course because black people were not allowed to mix in transport or accommodation. And you had to be very careful of this in Detroit in 1942. Anyway, one of their Scottish friends would put up Mike and I. They lived in a great big apartment block and the man involved was the manager of this block. He and his wife supervised all the arrangements for car parking and renting apartments and so on and their family lived in quite a spacious apartment and we met a girl there called Jeanette McDonald. A familiar name because Jeanette McDonald happened to be the name of a singing star at the time. Nelson Eddie was her partner. I remember her very well. The young Jeanette McDonald, the American girl was some kind of a Scottish dancing champion. You know used to twiddle about in the way that people with these Scottish views people do. In America they were very keen on this and would have state championships and things like that and young Jeanette was one of these. They were a very charming family and we got to know them very well during our three months there. But some of their American friends that we also would stay with and have breakfast with introduced us to pancakes and syrup and things like that. They had another young lass and she was rather like the American Doris Day. The girl next door. Bubbly. Mike fell for this girl in a big way and I often wonder, wondered because we got split up eventually and I, I lost touch with Mike and I often used to wonder whether he was going to go back to America for this girl. She was a lovely lass. Very much like Doris Day. Bubbly. Anyway, Jeanette McDonald was not for me but Mike I thought might have been very interested in this young lass who lived at some address in Bueno Vista Drive, Detroit. I’ve never forgotten the name. It was an interesting one. An enormous number like eleven hundred and twenty two. When we, when we finished our course we were presented with our observer badge. That was like a little O observer badge. They don’t use them anymore. It was replaced eventually by a bomb aimer or a navigator. When, when we were trained in Canada we did both jobs. We could choose either. I always stayed with the navigation side and so did Mike. Unfortunately, Mike and his crew were killed in 1944. He had started off doing navigation training. We’d flown in little Tiger Moths really just to get acclimatised to British weather really. I think in January ‘43 that was our first course. A month at Scone in Scotland where pilots just with their fresh pilot wings up would sit in the front cockpit and the navigators would sit in the back cockpit. The pilots of course would say, ‘If you want to play with this thing you’re welcome. Off you go.’ And so we would play [?] and we got a lot of fun. And at the end I remember, after about half an hour I would say to my pilot on this little Gosport tube communication system they had there. I’d say, ‘I think we ought to go back home now don’t you?’ ‘Oh I suppose so. Where are we?’ And I’d say, ‘Don’t you know?’ ‘Well, no. I thought you were the navigator, you’d know where we were.’ I thought he must be joking. I’d been playing with the aeroplane for half an hour and I thoroughly enjoyed it but I’d no idea where we are and it was a bit late to find out. It was quite amusing. I remember he, this particular pilot, made an emergency landing at an airfield. Not ours. Got some fuel in it and then we flew it back and this time I made sure I knew where I was. But having done that month on Tiger Moths in January we then went back to Harrogate where we met with old girlfriends or whatever and we waited for the next course. And then we’d go, have a month, at Skegness I think it was. Butlin’s holiday camp on the Yorkshire coast. They had accommodation of course. It was a holiday camp area. There were golf courses. And we wore army uniform and big boots and we had 303 rifles and they would take us out at night and throw thunder flashers at us to get us used to being possibly escape and evasion on the continent. It was all carefully planned. They knew what they were doing. Anyway, a month in army uniform made us fit and after that we went and did some Anson flying at Barrow in Furness. Very useful because the weather in the Irish Sea was notorious. Thunder storms, rain, snow, so we did more flying and a bit more navigation training and got used to flying in Ansons. Not in blue sky conditions but in United Kingdom weather conditions and that was different. But eventually our navigation training was finished and we were all posted to our, what we called an Operational Training Unit. In my case Mike and I went to Upper Heyford just not far north of Oxford. And when we arrived because we were commissioned we went to the officers mess and we met a bunch of fairly fresh flying officer ranked commissioned pilots who had also arrived for the their Operational Training Unit and for the first time they stopped being individual pilots and individual navigators, wireless operators, gunners and their purpose at Upper Heyford was to learn to fly as a Wellington bomber crew and that took ten weeks. It was a different way of life. We stopped being under training as navigators and we learned to become an operational bomber crew. Five of us, pilot, navigator no we didn’t have a flight engineer and we didn’t have a, ah pilot, navigator, wireless operator and bomb aimer and rear gunner. We didn’t need a mid-upper gunner and we didn’t need a flight engineer to fly the Wellington. But we certainly learned the rudiments of how to operate a bomber crew. For the first time in our lives we lived as a crew. Relaxed together. We tried, we tried as far as we could to live together. With the pilot and navigator both commissioned we could do that and the others were all sergeants. The bomb aimer, the wireless operator and the gunner but they, they gelled together. The NCOs stuck together. They ate together, they went to the same billet, sergeant’s mess. Ken Ames and I became firm friends. It was the way that it was in those days. There was a loyalty between individual crew members. It was a most unusual way to become a bomber crew because what happened was I teamed up with my pilot Ken Ames in the officer’s mess the night before. We all met in a big hangar. Mike did exactly the same. He met a northern Irishman called Derek [Wray] I remember. The following morning we were all there at 8 o’clock in the morning and wing commander flying said, ‘Gentlemen,’ there were hundreds of people in this hangar. He said, ‘You are going to find your own crews. I want every pilot to come back to me at the end of the day and tell me the names, ranks and numbers of his crew. That’s a job for all the pilots but how you sort yourselves out is a matter for you.’ We got some surprise because we’d never seen this before. This was quite new. Ok. So we got our brief, we got our marching orders, go away, ‘Find yourselves crew members. We don’t care how you do it. All I want by 4 o’clock today is a crew with a pilot, navigator, bomb aimer, wireless operator and rear gunner.’ Ken, Ken Ames said, ‘Well you and I are the core.’ ‘Yeah. That’s right.’ ‘I will go and find a rear gunner. You go and find a bomb aimer.’ And I did that. I found an old man aged thirty two with ruddy cheeks and grey hair and I liked the look of him and I chatted him up and said, ‘Well I’ve got a pilot. I’m a navigator,’ and I said, ‘Would you like to be our bomb aimer?’ ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I’d like to meet the pilot of course but otherwise that’s fine.’ And Ken went and he found a rear gunner and he found he was an ex Irish Guardsman. As a soldier used to guns, used to being told what to do and so on but this man had been asked by the army if they would volunteer to become a gunner in the air force. And they jumped at it because it was much better pay. They would become sergeants straight away instead of privates in the army and they would get flying [fame] There was an element of flying [fame] when you were a sergeant in the flying business. So Paddy became our rear gunner. Paddy Paul. My, my selection as bomb aimer had been an insurance agent for many years and was married and had two children. He was ten years older than we were but he was also a crossword fiend which I found out and he was also a very keen rock climber using fingers and toes. He was also a very keen bird watcher. And he had patience and a lovely smile. We were sold. We were very happy. We found, we found a wireless operator but I think for some reason we had to change him. We did start flying with him and I remember saying, this man was called Jim, I said, well, no he was called Albert and I said, ‘Well I’m called Albert as well but if you like I will change my name to Jim.’ I never really liked being Albert really. It was my old man’s best man in the, in the trenches that had made me called Albert but I’ve got James and I’m quite happy to be Jim. And so I settled to Jim. And we ended up with an Australian wireless operator from Toowoomba in Queensland who had been around a long time because he was already a flight sergeant. That made a lot of difference of a year. He’d been around somewhere. Tex we called him because his first name was called Harvey. And we said, ‘We can’t call you Harvey.’ ‘Ok,’ he said, ‘Tex.’ But when you’re on intercom you don’t want fancy names, you want short, sharp ones and we, we soon learned of course that this idea that some people in the photography film world had that you would say on intercom, ‘Pilot from mid-upper gunner,’ or ‘wireless operator from navigator.’ You haven’t got time for all that. It’s Ken, Jim, Paddy. That’s it. You soon got to know the names and you soon knew who was who ‘cause all the names were different. So Ken was the pilot, Jim was the navigator, Tom was the bomb aimer, Paddy was the rear gunner and Tex was the wireless operator. Five people. We were very lucky I suppose because four of those five people survived till the end. Tex unfortunately, our wireless operator from Toowoomba, decided after getting a DFC and having done a whole first tour decided on our last squadron, 97, the Pathfinders, that on a particular day when a daylight operation was scheduled and our crew were not on it, not on the ops order, he said, ‘Oh I’d like to go. I’ll go with a skipper called Baker, Flight Lieutenant Baker. One of my Australian mates as a squadron leader he’d want to go as well,’ so on that aircraft there were nine people instead of seven which seemed to happen sometimes and because it was a daylight trip Tex decided that this was a bit of war that he would like to have a look at. Doing it in daylight. When he was not a wireless operator he was going to man a gun. And of course on that particular aircraft was shot down and I think some of the people escaped and became prisoners of war but Tex was killed and that was in July ‘44. I never did find out whether Tex had got a pathfinder badge. Didn’t make any difference anyway. He was dead. He’s buried in Bayeux War Cemetery. But Paddy the rear gunner did all the trips. Completed a second tour. Was commissioned. He had a DFM. He was commissioned at the end of it all and he went to the Far East to take part in what they called Tiger Force. I never saw him again. Tom Savage the bomb aimer had a DFM at the end of the first tour. When it was all over he was commissioned as well but stayed on at Coningsby to help the station armaments officer with the problems that they had at that time and he stayed until demob. I saw him again later. He met my wife. He was a cricket man as well and we used to meet up in the years after the war, many years, when I was stationed somewhere in the north like Middleton St George or Ouston in Northumberland, we would contact Tom and his family. By that time we had three [more families. Three more.] and his family and we would walk on Hadrian’s Wall. We would meet halfway and meet and have a, have a party. The last time I saw Tom would be about 1990 I think. It was a day when he was watching the cricket in the kitchen and the England test team were playing Australia and the English captain, what was his name? I can’t remember for the moment. The English captain scored three hundred and thirty three not out. I remember. And Tom was listening with delight to all this on the radio or the television I can’t remember now and he died. He was a lovely man. Yes. So, Tex had died. The young engineer and the young mid upper gunner who came to us especially when we became a Lancaster crew for the first time they, they both disappeared. I don’t know what happened to them. I think, one I know was invalided out in to civvy street and I met or contacted his widow eventually many years later and I discovered that yes the head wounds that he had got during a trip to [Castellon] on 61 squadron which kept me in hospital for two months brought home the results that he was found unfit to fly and he went back to civvy street and when he was in civvy street during the war he used to work on aircraft engines at some, nearby. We never did find where he came from. He’d been a garage mechanic you see. He was only eighteen. Ans he was only eighteen when he joined us but he was only with us for a few weeks and we never saw him again but I, I tracked him down long, long after the war and his widow told me that yes they’d got married, he’d earned a living as a ground engineer during the war and after the war he managed to get his medical back again and had a job, taken a job at Stansted flying Yorks all over the world. Thousands of miles of flying, fitting new aircraft engines to Yorks and Lancastrians wherever they needed them and he had three children I think it was but I never found any more about him. I have no idea what happened to the mid-upper gunner. I know he never flew with us again so presumably he had disappeared from active service. I’ve no idea. Now what else was I going to tell you? SB: Do you want to tell me a little about some of your operations? JW: About the operations. Yes. SB: Yes. JW: Well after we’d finished at Upper Heyford on the Wellingtons we had become a very efficient bomber crew. It was the little things like taking a little racing pigeon in a little cardboard box and we would sometimes do what we called nickel flights. That’s when we went very close to the French coast where we could get shot down by Germans but you were still on your training flight and you’d note the actual position that you had worked out where you were and you would write it down on a little bit of special paper which you’d put on to the pigeon’s leg. Elastic held there a little capsule and you would take the pigeon gingerly down to the back end of the Wellington and you’d get Paddy to turn his guns away and you would throw the pigeon out and the pigeon in the dark would sort itself out and by a miracle of bird navigation would get back to Upper Heyford long before we did [laughs]. And the purpose of that was to make sure that if the aircraft was shot down the pigeon would get back and that would be the last known position of that Wellington before it disappeared. That was the whole point. Of course we never did it in Lancasters. I never saw that again. But we did, we did manage to gel as a crew because we could talk to each other. We developed our own technique of how we could fly this crew together. I would tell the pilot that in certain circumstances if anything went wrong he should always bear in mind that if he could see the sky he could see the Great Bear and he’d say, ‘What’s the Great Bear?’ And I would explain. And I’d say find Polaris the Pole star. The Great Bear will wonder around different regions at different time but the Pole star once you found it it was a very good thing. It was north. And I’d explain to the pilot that wherever you were in Germany you had to come back on a westerly heading to get back to the UK and the best way you could do that was to keep the pole star on the right. He never faltered and there was one occasion when we went to Castle when he found it very useful ‘cause he remembered it. Pilots quite often leave it to the navigator completely but I used to talk to Ken. We were the same age. We liked the same things. And I used to say that there were some things that were important and I used to talk to him about the necessity for every pair of eyes in the aircraft to come back to where it all happened on the navigators brief on his board. I used to explain to everyone how important it was that if they saw a coastline, a bridge, an important navigation feature on the ground they should tell me. They should tell me in time for me to make use of it exactly when it happened so I could check. Crossing a beach, crossing a railway line, a bridge, whatever you could see. I said, ‘I know I’ve Gee and I’ve got H2S, I’ve got radar. Yes I’ve got all these things but they don’t always work and they are sometimes out of range,’ and so I used to explain. I used to explain to our wireless operator how important it was that when I wanted bearings from the radio why I wanted them, when I wanted them and I wanted them at a precise time. I wanted, I explained why these things were important to the navigator. And everyone in the crew, my crew anyway because every crew was different. I wanted everyone to know that every bit of information that they could see was vital as far as I was concerned if it had anything to do with the navigation of the aircraft, the Lancaster, the Wellington, whatever it was. We got on fine. I remember one occasion when we were doing a long ten hour cross country in a Wellington from Upper Heyford and the weather was filthy. It was nothing like what had been forecast. I remember half way through the trip, about four or five hours I said to them on the intercom chaps you might be interested to know that we should be turning from Carlisle onto another heading but I said I can’t tell you why but right now we’re over Bristol. You could hear a penny drop in all the ears. ‘What’s Jim talking about?’ I said, ‘The weather forecast was rubbish. I now want Tex to give me a QDM for Upper Heyford and we’re going to fly back to base. We’re going to forget the rest of the trip because the weather is so bad and the winds are so hard to find that that’s the only thing we can do.’ I think my crew discovered that they had a navigator who was honest and was telling them what the truth of the matter was. A lot of other aircraft that night would have ended up in being diverted, got, they’d got just as lost as we were. This sort of thing used to happen but I think that that crew as a Wellington crew decided that Jim Wright was the man that they wanted to stay with and that’s why later on in life when we were a Lancaster crew they decided that if Jim Wright was needing hospital treatment but if it was possible they would wait for him to come back. Being what happened. Not every navigator was as lucky as that. I was lucky. And in the end so were they. We finished. We managed to finish. We lost a few of ours but you see navigation to me was a puzzle like a crossword puzzle. You had the clues but you needed to make use of everything you could to solve problems and that’s what navigation was. I also remember one occasion when we went to Nuremberg. Now, Nuremberg is famous for being one operation in which we lost a hundred aircraft and the reason for it was straightforward. The Jetstream that people talk about in the weather forecast today as a casual thing that means something and they explain the weather forecast, tries to explain what a Jetstream is but in 1943/44 no one had heard about a Jetstream. They didn’t know what it was. But as a wind finder on 630 squadron when we went to Nuremberg my job was to find the winds and send them back through the wireless operator to Group so that they could marshal the latest thing that they’d found Instead of guessing what the winds were they would find what the real winds were and I was finding winds at one stage that I couldn’t believe but I had enough faith in my ability to say to my wireless operator, ‘I know that these are astonishing winds. Don’t be surprised but they’re right.’ The winds were from the northeast at about a hundred and forty five knots at twenty thousand feet and I sent these winds back and the boys back at base and at Group, the weather chaps, they looked at all the winds that were coming. Now, half of the wind finders, these are all specially chosen navigators would look at the winds they were finding and said, ‘I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it. I’ll halve it. I’ll go as far as eighty.’ They didn’t have enough courage to tell the truth but we lost a hundred aeroplanes. Quite often the four engine ones because at that time most of the guys were in four engined guys, Halifax’s. I think we’d already thrown away the Stirlings so all, all four engined guys on Nuremberg were in the same boat. When the winds were sorted out at base and they sent back a revised lot of winds they were nowhere near the real ones and so not only did the searchlights, the ackack and the night fighters do their normal thirty or forty aircraft shot down but the other sixty aircraft found that because they’d run out of fuel they ditched in the North Sea, they ditched in the Baltic, they ditched everywhere. Quite often these were the people whose names ended up on Runnymede Memorial, missing, but their aircraft were never heard of again. Navigation was so important and the scientists did their best but the German scientists were also very clever. So I’m afraid quite often the Germans made use of the navigational equipment that we did have and they took it. They found out how it worked and they used it to their advantage to warn their night fighters. So that some of the equipment that we thought were being useful to RAF bombers turned out in fact to be more useful to the enemy. They used to track, using our equipment in our aircraft, so that their night fighters could latch on to us. We didn’t know about that at the time and I don’t think Butch Harris was initially aware about it but when he did find out he had to do some serious thinking. How much risk can you take with your bomber force? It was a very difficult world. The men who flew in bombers in Bomber Command trusted Bomber Harris. They knew he had a difficult job to do. They knew that their chances of survival were less than one in two. They knew that. But they also knew that if you had to win the war you had to do it. You had to do what he wanted to do and I don’t remember anyone in any of the squadrons I flew with who argued with Bomber Harris. They knew. They knew that the only way to win was to win the war. It was them or us. It was all out war. Anyway, that was the end of my operational flying on three squadrons and when it was over and the adjutant said, ‘You’re finished.’ He sent me to a place called Brackla in Scotland and I was there with Paddy the rear gunner. It was the Redistributional Resettlement Unit. Ken Ames was sent to be an instructor on a Lancaster Finishing School at Wickenby. Tom, the bomb aimer ended up at, on the ground but commissioned and quite happy and he survived the war. Paddy ended up commissioned as a gunner and went to the Far East and he survived that. He died later on, in Nottingham I think. I never saw him again. Tex, the wireless operator had been killed in ‘44. But I, I remember being in the 97 squadron adjutant’s office when he said I was finished with operational flying and there was a little card on his desk and it said if you are tired and would like a rest why don’t you come and have a week or ten days in a [Lastrian?] house in Scotland. It’s peaceful and it’s quiet. And I made a note of the telephone number [Talland 35?]. Miles from anywhere, he said. And I said to the adjutant, ‘How do you think this place is?’ ‘Don’t know.’ he said. ‘All the information I’ve got’s on the card. It’s for chaps who need a rest from operations.’ And I remember looking up this man. He was a retired air commodore and I said, ‘I’ve just been told that I’m finished with operational flying.’ ‘Oh well done,’ he said. ‘I’m thinking of getting married.’ ‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘Come back and talk to me when you’ve made the arrangements. You can have the honeymoon up there.’ ‘Good thinking,’ I said. So I talked to my wife about it about this. I talked to her before she were married. And we agreed. Family friends said, ‘But Jim, Aberdeenshire is a hell of a long way away from Whitley Bay which is because your wife’s in a V1, V2 area she can’t get married down there. You’re going to have to get married in Whitley Bay. And when you get married by the time it’s all over you won’t be able to get to [?]. So, we happen to know of a little hotel in Edinburgh that we met years ago and I’m sure you’ll be alright there for your first night and then you could carry on to Aberdeenshire afterwards for your honeymoon.’ And that’s what we did. That’s what we did. Later on I met up with Ken Ames and his wife after the war and we had a holiday together up there. The four of us. The war was over and poor Ken he’d married three times in the end and he died at the age of fifty five. Fifty five. I’m ninety, nearly ninety three now. What a waste. He was a nice man. Eight years later I’d lost touch with him completely. I’d finished my, my war, I’d finished my post-war service and I was interested in a campaign medal for Bomber Command. And in 2008 the Editor of the Sunday Express was running a series of articles about Bomber Command and he called them heroes. And he got ten thousand letters from people into his office as Editor saying, ‘We agree with you.’ And he sent this parcels of letters and things to 10 Downing Street, to Gordon Brown, on the 2nd of July 2008. They took photographs of people. I remember having my own photograph taken next to the policeman at Number 10. I’d never been anywhere near Downing Street. I didn’t know anything about it but I went to attend this petition. And there were, there was another Bomber Command man there who had been a prisoner of war in Stalag III. The one where fifty chaps had been shot. He was interested in a campaign medal as well. I wonder what happened to him. I’ve no idea. But some of the other people who were photographed there as a party not only the, Townsend, I think the name of the editor was but there were some members of parliament particularly a member of parliament who has just left us. Austin. Austin - I can’t remember his name. Anyway, this particular MP, his name will come to me, on the 13th of November 2007 before the petition, Mitchell, Austin Mitchell, that was his name, he was the MP for North Grimsby I think it was and he with a friend of mine Douglas Hudson DFC had done a programme on the Look North programme I remember in which they had been advocating the award of a campaign medal for Bomber Command. Doug Hudson had been a, had been a prisoner of war in Africa. His pilot had been shot down on the beaches heading for Malta I think in a Blenheim and he’d been captured by, I think, the Vichy French and put in to a prisoner of war camp somewhere in [Libya?] or somewhere like that. And they had been rescued when they had, when the Americans invaded and he’d been repatriated. This is Douglas Hurd and he’d done a conversion back on to navigation and he’d been serving with a Lancaster squadron and he had said to all the members of his Lancaster crew he said, ‘Now, look. I don’t intend to become another prisoner of war in Germany. I’ve had enough. So my position is quite clear.’ Anyway, he survived the tour and he wrote a book and he called it, “A Navigator’s Story: There and Back Again.” And he contacted, he lived somewhere near Lincoln, on the outskirts of Lincoln with his family, and he met Austin Mitchell and he persuaded him to do this Look North programme looking for a campaign medal. He died of course. His wife died first. I still, I’m still in touch with his daughter who still lives there and I keep her in touch with my puny efforts to get a campaign medal. This girl, Yvonne, Yvonne [Puncher?] married another navigator but a Canberra navigator after the war and they lived just around the corner from where Douglas and his wife lived. And she joined the air force to become an air traffic control officer and that’s where we, we joined up again in a different way and I was able to talk to her about life in the air traffic control world. SB: What did you do after you left the air force? JW: I’m sorry? SB: What did you do after you left the air force? Well that’s a very interesting story because after I went to the resettlement unit at Brackla with Paddy he went off to the Tiger Force and they said, ‘Now Jim. What are we going to do with you? You’ve done a double tour. You deserve a rest. Would you like to be RTO at Euston Station?’ And I said, ‘What does that mean? What’s RTO?’ ‘Rail Travel Officer,’ they said. ‘What did he do?’ ‘Ah well you see it’s nothing to do with flying. I’m afraid you’re now a flight lieutenant and as such you can do a lot of work. You might be very helpful as an RTO because an RTO at Euston station is a busy job you know and we need people with wartime experience used to handling men, army, navy, air force and we move them around in hundreds every day of the week. Moving them from this camp to that camp and so.’ And I said, ‘Well ok. It sound a little bit boring but, and I don’t really like London as a place to live. What else can you think of?’ ‘Well,’ they said, ‘What about a job with BOAC?’ And I said, ‘What is BOAC?’ ‘British Overseas Airways Corporation.’ ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘Civil flying?’ ‘Yes, that’s right.’ They said. ‘I’ll buy that one,’ I said. ‘I’ll try that. Can’t do any harm.’ ‘You’re on,’ he said. ‘We’ll send you warrants and things like that to Bristol and you can talk to the people down there’. Ostensibly of course it was to fly so I said, ‘Yeah, but civil flying.’ ‘That’s right,’ they said. ‘It won’t be in a war zone.’ So, we got married and we went to, it was nearly Christmas time I remember and I think by the time I got down to Bristol to make an appointment they said, ‘Jim, we would be delighted for you to fly but we’re snowed under with navigators. What we really want in BOAC at the moment are ground operations officers to make the whole system work better.’ ‘Ok,’ I said, ‘Well, I don’t know much about it but where would it be?’ ‘Ah well we’d like you to go Hurn, near Bournemouth.’ Now, an operations officer down there would handle Dakotas, Lancastrians and things like that and it’s an important job.’ So I said, ‘Ok. My flying days are over, I’m married. I’m free and I survived and the war’s still on. I’ll do it.’ So I told my wife on our honeymoon. I said, ‘I’m not going to fly anymore. I’m going to be an operations officer.’ ‘Oh, well Bournemouth sounds very interesting,’ she said. So I stayed for another eighteen months at Hurn doing this operation officer’s job and of course the Royal Air Force were still paying me. I was still in flight lieutenant’s uniform and I could wear a flight lieutenant’s uniform any time I liked but during the day BOAC would give me an operations officer uniform. It was a different kind of uniform. But it was quite interesting work and I found I met a lot of interesting people. I met a lot of ex Bomber Command people who were also seconded. The war was still on but they were seconded to BOAC to help them fly Lancastrians because they were familiar with the Lancaster and a lot of the people that I used to work with as an operations officer would be flying Dakotas. Now they were just the same as the military Charlie 47 that a lot of our people flew during the war on Transport Command. And very interesting, I used to meet, I used to meet the skippers and I met people like O. P. Jones at Hurn. He was a very well-known civil aviation pilot. [? ] And of course the same station manager for BOAC in Bournemouth was also responsible for the flying boat operation at Poole Harbour, just down the road from the other side from the land airfield at Hurn to the seaplane base at Poole. It was all very interesting stuff and whilst the war was still on. But in nineteen forty, when would it be, I couldn’t get demobbed until October ‘46 and sometime in early ‘46 whilst I was still an operations officer Mr Horton, I remember his name, the station manager, he came and he said, ‘Jim I know you’re in the air force but,’ he said, ‘But I’m about to become station manager in London for BOAC because we’re opening up at Heathrow.’ And I said, ‘Fine.’ He said, ‘Mr Carter,’ I think that was his name, who was a senior operations man at Hurn, ‘Is nearly at retirement age and he doesn’t want to go to Heathrow. Would you like the job of station operations officer at Heathrow?’ I said, ‘Yes. It doesn’t make any difference to me. I’m quite happy. It’s a challenge. I’d like to do it.’, ‘Ok,’ he says, ‘So, it means living a bit rough for a while because we’ve got a house at the end of the runway and we’ve got to literally build SECO huts alongside the A4 road, the Bath Road. We’ve got to do all this sort of stuff and it takes time to organise it. It will be tough for a time.’ I said, ‘Fine. I’m quite happy to do that.’ So I became the station operations officer for London Airport for BOAC but they had Pan America and they had [Lufthansa] they had other people but as far as BOAC were concerned they wanted me to do this job. He said, Mr Horton says, ‘Incidentally, we also would also like you to do an air traffic control course. I know it’s a joint military civil service job at Watchfield.’ I said, ‘Fine. I don’t mind doing that and I’ll meet lots of interesting people there.’ So I went to Watchfield and I did the course and I passed it and I went back to Heathrow and then I took some of my other operations officers and sent them off to do air traffic control officer’s job as well. There was meaning for this of course because when the war ended in ’45, on May, on May the 8th the civil flying business took off in a big way. A lot of the seconded RAF officers both flying and ground would carry on doing civil contracts with BOAC and I was one of them. I was demobbed in October ‘46 and on the 20th of October I went to Gambia in British West Africa as an operations officer but this time I think they’d regraded me as an operations officer grade one. It was a better kind of job and paid a bit better than the routine BOAC operations officer grade 2 did. Anyway, my wife and I were quite happy and she, by this time was living with her parents in Ilford. The war was over. We were married. We had no children. She was looking forward to being a wife overseas and eventually after six months she followed me out to Bathurst and we lived in married quarters there. Lived in nissen huts accommodation but Fujara was the place where we lived and worked and I used to operate by transport by car to the airfield at [Yangden?], would go down to the flying boat base in Bathurst. That became Banthul. I think B A N T H U L, was the new name that they invented for Bathurst. Now, there had been Royal Air Force during the war at Bathurst at [Yangden?] and the flying boat base at Bathurst. They had used air sea rescue and things like that but all the people that were wartime at Bathurst and similar places overseas had to be brought back for demob and that’s where the air traffic control came in because the ministry of civil aviation were quite interested to get BOAC to organise this on their behalf because they wanted the routes to be kept up without, without halt whilst the transfer from wartime to civil took place. I quite enjoyed doing the job in Gambia. I quite enjoyed it but whilst we were there BOAC contacted all the air traffic control officers they had overseas and they said, ‘Would you like to become a flight operations officer? If you do and if you have the qualification and if you are willing we will train you at Aldermaston in England for three months course and you will cease to be operations officer grade 1 and if you succeed as part of the course you will be posted as flight operations officers.’ Now they don’t wear uniform. It’s not a uniform job. It was a very important job because you’d got to do all the flight planning for the civil airliners at Heathrow, at Prestwick and all these places and you’re going to save time, effort and money by shift working, in your case at Prestwick because in 19, what would it be? 1946 we left, ’48, December we came back. In ’49. In ‘49 I became a flight operations officer working for BOAC as a civilian. Nothing to do with the air force. I worked at er, as a flight operations officer for BOAC at Prestwick and I was posted then from Prestwick to Heathrow. But in September ’50, in September ’50, I remember very well all the flight operations officers throughout BOAC would become redundant and they had three months’ pay which lasted until December of that year. And the reason for it was that in the previous financial year in spring of ‘50 BOAC made an eight million pound loss which upset them. And they found that the new chairman, who was a city man, didn’t know anything about flying and he said to his board of directors, ‘Right. I’m your new boss. Tell me what the facts are. I suppose we need air crew. We couldn’t fly without them.’ ‘That’s right,’ they said. ‘And they’re very expensive.’ ‘Ok,’ he said, ‘Well, who are the next expensive people?’ ‘Well, we think the flight operations officers are.’ ‘Tell me what they do,’ he said. ‘Oh the flight operations officers throughout the world take the incoming air crew and in advance they do meteorological analysis of the future flights and when the incoming crew arrive they can just have a meal, accept what the flight operations officers has decided is the best time track for the next stage. Sign and off they go.’ ‘I see,’ said the new chairman. ‘Well, the answer simply, really to save money is to stop paying all these flight operations officers and let the air crew do their own flight planning. There’s a captain, a navigator a wireless operator why can’t they do it themselves. They’re qualified to do it.’ Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Interview with James Wright Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Sheila Bibb Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2015-06-08 Type The nature or genre of the resource Sound Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context AWrightJDFC150608 Description An account of the resource James (Jim) was a civil servant before joining the Royal Air Force in May 1941. He carried out two tours on 61, 630 and 97 Squadrons. Although he wanted to be a pilot, there was a shortage of navigators. He was called up to Regent's Park and then posted to an initial training wing at RAF Catterick. He went to Eastbourne College for elementary air navigation training. He observed a couple of Me-109s hitting the railway station. Jim was posted to RAF Heaton Park and went to No. 13 Air Navigation School at Port Albert, Canada, and came top of his course. He was commissioned at RACF Moncton and returned to RAF Harrogate, where he met his future wife. In January 1943, Jim did a course on Tiger Moths at RAF Scone, followed by RAF Skegness, where he learnt escape and evasion on the continent. Anson flying in RAF Barrow in Furness followed and Jim was posted to an Operational Training Unit at RAF Upper Heyford. They crewed up and he learnt to fly as a Wellington bomber crew. Jim recalls doing nickel flights, sending back their position by racing pigeon. He describes the importance of navigational features, honesty in reporting and winning the trust of the crew. He attributes the loss of aircraft in the Nuremberg operation to some navigators lacking the courage of their convictions in detecting wind speeds. He points out how the Germans made use of Bomber Command’s navigation equipment. Jim reports on the fight for the Bomber Command campaign medal. After the war, Jim joined British Overseas Airways Corporation. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Julie Williams Sally Coulter Maureen Clarke Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Language A language of the resource eng Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Royal Air Force Royal Air Force. Bomber Command Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. Great Britain Canada Ontario--Port Albert England--Lincolnshire England--Nottinghamshire England--Oxfordshire England--Shropshire England--Sussex Scotland--Perth and Kinross Heathrow Airport (London, England) Germany Germany--Nuremberg Ontario Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1940 1941 1942 1943 1944 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 02:15:12 audio recording 61 Squadron 630 Squadron 97 Squadron Absent Without Leave aircrew animal bombing bombing of Nuremberg (30 / 31 March 1944) crewing up final resting place ground personnel Lancaster Me 109 medical officer memorial military discipline military ethos military living conditions military service conditions navigator Pathfinders perception of bombing war RAF Barrow in Furness RAF Heaton Park RAF Scone RAF Skegness RAF Upper Heyford strafing Tiger Moth training Wellington https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/365/8925/WardM [Pesaro].jpg d9a2d9c693790af82307dda6f15eb90a https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/365/8925/AWardEM160424.mp3 ec3474ac270a998bd385dc21d7ddedec Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Ward, Mary Mary Ward Elsie Mary Ward E M Ward Mary Brown Description An account of the resource Six items. Three oral history interviews with Elizabeth Mary Ward (893293, Women's Auxiliary Air Force), her dog tags, an aeroplane broach and a photograph album. Mary Ward was a cook but re-mustered and was promoted becoming a map officer. She served with Bomber Command at RAF Driffield between 1940 and 1944 before being posted to Coastal Command. The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Mary Ward and catalogued by Trevor Hardcastle. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2016-04-24 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Some items have not been published in order to protect the privacy of third parties, to comply with intellectual property regulations, or have been assessed as medium or low priority according to the IBCC Digital Archive collection policy and will therefore be published at a later stage. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collection-policy. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Ward, EM Transcribed audio recording A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice. Transcription Text transcribed from audio recording or document CB: My name is Chris Brockbank and today is Tuesday the 26th of April 2016 and we’re having our third meeting with Mary Ward but the topic is her husband — Roy Ward. And the reason that Mary’s doing it is because he is suffering from dementia and is in hospital and so this is a proxy interview with Mary. Right. So, we’re starting with Roy’s earliest time. So, he was born near Halifax and his father was a wool mill manager so they —what do you know about the family? MW: Well, they lived —his father had been in the war. The First World War. He’d had malaria and he wasn’t in a terribly good health but they lived there until Roy was roughly five or six, I would say, when they moved to Ardsley. His father died when he was five — CB: Yeah. MW: Or six. Something like that age and their circumstances changed and they had to move. They moved to Ardsley. His father, his father had become — I’m getting this wrong. I’m not going to be able [unclear] CB: It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. MW: His father had an upset with the owners of the mill and he left the wool industry and bought a house in Ardsley with a sub-Post Office which he managed. He then, he died when Roy was eight and his mother continued to operate the post, the sub post office with his older brother Nory. [Pause] CB: So where did he go to school? MW: He went to school at the local primary school. Let’s see. Yes. Until he was ten when he passed a scholarship to go to boarding school. Crossley and Porter’s in Halifax. This was, this was a boarding school. Very similar to Wellington College. Which was provided by the local woollen manufacturers for boys, boys only, who had lost their fathers in circumstances to do with the First World War. He stayed there until he was in the sixth form. Only six of them in the sixth form and he was heading for university with maths and science. And then the war came. He decided he would skip university and join the RAF. This wasn’t possible at the time and he then decided to go into the Met Office. He got a job in the Met Office as an assistant and was sent, after a few months, he was sent to Ismailia. He went all around the Cape in a convoy. He got lost in the convoy at one stage and got left behind but they did catch up and they ended in Durban and then went to Ismailia. And this was for a course with the Met Office which, I understand, lasted about three months and then they sent him back home because there was no need. They didn’t need them there apparently. So, he came home a more direct route than the Suez Canal. You know. That way around. And when he arrived back in this country the Met Office said that he’d, he’d been accepted for the RAF. And the RAF told him to go and buy himself an officer’s uniform and report to — I’m not sure where he had to report but he, from then on he was in the RAF as a flying officer and doing — I’m not sure exactly where he was stationed until he came to Brawdy where I met him at Brawdy. CB: Which is South Wales. MW: South Wales. Pembrokeshire. Yes. Yes. Then I, after that we went Brawdy. He was attached to 517 Squadron and flew with Steve Hughes in a Halifax. Steve being the pilot. And Roy was known as, what was known as the Met observer. Now, all this other information regarding what he did is down here. In 1939 this was where, when he joined the Met Office and he was stationed at 4 Group at Linton on Ouse. [unclear] This was when he was in Linton on Ouse. And then in 1940 he was at Headquarters, RAF Linton on Ouse at Heslington Hall. Which is where we’re going to see George Smith. George is at Heslington Manor. CB: Yes. MW: This is Heslington Hall. The manor house where George lives in. He then went to Pocklington. Headquarters at Pocklington. He was then posted to Queenstown, South Africa. And RAF [pause] Ismailia in Egypt. CB: Yeah. MW: Then from RAF Ismailia, he went to training school at Kilburn in London when he came back. And then from Kilburn to Marston Moor. That was back up north again, you see. And then from — in ‘44 he went from Milham to Aldergrove and then to Brawdy. CB: Right. MW: And then from Brawdy to Chivenor. From RAF Chivenor — a detachment to Mountbatten. And then from RAF Mountbatten to Shawbury and his last station was Waddington. CB: Right. MW: In the RAF. CB: Right. MW: Then he got transferred back to the Met Office and we were [pause] we were in Dunstable. CB: Ah, so — MW: From Dunstable he came here to actually open the — Bracknell. Bracknell was built —the Met Office was built in 1960. We came in. He came, in charge of the computer at Bracknell in 1961. Well he came actually in ‘60 but we didn’t move until ‘61. From Bracknell he went to Gan. For a year in Gan. CB: The island in the Pacific. MW: The island. Yes. CB: Yeah. Well Indian Ocean. MW: The Indian Ocean. That’s right. Yeah. CB: Yeah. When was that? When was that? MW: That would be in about 1968 or ‘69. It doesn’t say here. This is what I’ve to use. CB: Ok. MW: ‘Cause we moved here by then you see. He was away a year in Gan and he came back to Heathrow. And from, on and off, until he retired he was Heathrow or Bracknell. CB: So, he was moving up the ladder all the time was he? MW: Yeah. He, he was forecasting at Heathrow, of course. Not doing computer work. CB: Right. MW: And he was forecasting again at Bracknell when he came back. He came off the computer. Of course it was as big as this bungalow. CB: Yes. MW: I don’t know if you want this in here. CB: No. No. That’s fine. MW: It was all, it was all big. The valves. And now it’s reduced to this size of course. CB: Extraordinary isn’t it? MW: But in the latter years he was forecasting. He was a senior forecaster. CB: What did he do in Gan? When he was in Gan what was he doing there? MW: He was the forecaster. CB: Oh. That was the same. MW: Yes. It’s a main, it was mainly a dropping off station for refuelling on the way to Singapore. CB: Right. MW: But no women were allowed there. Hence, we didn’t go. CB: No. And where was he working when he eventually retired? MW: In Heathrow. CB: Oh, was he? And after he’d retired — what age did he retire? MW: He was retired quite early. Well a couple of years before normal because he’d done overseas duties. CB: Oh. MW: You could do if you’d done overseas duties, you know. You got a special concession to do. CB: Right. So what age was he? MW: Hmmn? CB: What age was he when he retired? MW: He would be — is sixty the age for retiring? I think it was. So he would have been about fifty eight then. CB: Ok. Ok. Now, casting your mind back when you first met him under what circumstances were those? MW: That was at Brawdy. Yes. We were, Brawdy was quite an isolated place on the coast in Pembrokeshire. And he was flying with 517 Squadron doing reconnaissance flights and this is when he was attached to Epicure. These were doing the high level, taking readings for the weather. I should have a map somewhere. CB: So, what was Epicure? MW: Epicure was the name given to that. CB: It was specifically – MW: Here we are. This is all in here. CB: Right. MW: And RAF Brawdy. Now this is all listed. The people with whom he flew and for what purpose. But you wouldn’t want all that. It’s — Epicure’s were all normal except for — remarks 44. 30th of November. Normal track 215 to position 9, 450. CB: So, these are the sorties you’re reading about. MW: Yes. CB: In the book. [pause] MW: I think you’d better have this Chris because there’s some — you may – CB: Ok. Well, we’ll look at that. Yes. MW: Yes. CB: Thank you very much. MW: These are, these are the other squadrons. There’s one called – CB: This is where they flew. MW: Yes. CB: So, we’re looking at a map that’s the Atlantic. MW: This is — this is from Brawdy and this is where Roy flew out of. CB: Oh. I see. MW: And Epicure. These are the other squadrons that did different — had different names you see. CB: Right. MW: And went to different places on here. CB: So, this map is showing the areas in which certain squadrons operated. MW: That’s right. Yes. CB: According to these. So, we’ve got Bismuth, Mercer, Ella, Sharon. MW: Yes. CB: Epicure and Rhombus. MW: Yes. CB: And also, Nocturnal down, out of – MW: Yes. These are all the details. These are the details of what he — CB: Ok. MW: Who he flew with. This is all with Epicure. CB: Yes. MW: All down. CB: Yeah. MW: And the flight. The pilots that he was with. CB: Who he flew with. Yeah. Right. That’s really good. And then out of Iceland is Magnum. MW: Sorry? CB: So he —the aircraft were always Halifaxes. MW: Halifaxes. Yes. CB: Right. MW: Yeah. Do you want to — CB: If we can borrow those. We’ll have a look at them. May I look in just a moment. Thank you. So, the practicality of this really is that we’ve been talking [coughs] excuse me, to people. Bomber Command very largely but in order to go on the operations they needed to know what the weather was. MW: That’s right. CB: So, the reason that we want to know about Roy and what he did — MW: Well they started off from zero and I think they moved up to five thousand feet. Took the readings. He took the readings. The Met readings then. And then they’d come down a bit and then they went up a bit higher and in those days the Halifax could only do eighteen thousand feet. That’s the height they went to. And then took these, and then these readings were [terms]. They could send them from a Halifax. I can’t remember that bit but anyway they were used then for — to forecast the weather for the flying. CB: So, in practical terms they had a crew in the normal way but they had one extra person who was the meteorological observer. MW: That’s right. Yes. CB: Is that right? MW: Yes. The Met observer. CB: Yeah. The Met observer. MW: Yes CB: Right. So that made eight people. MW: In the crew. CB: In the crew. Yes. Do you happen to know where his station was in the bomber? MW: In? CB: In the aircraft. In the Halifax. Where was the Met observer? Do you know? MW: Oh. I’ve never thought of that. No. CB: No. MW: He would, he would probably tell me on a good day. CB: Yes. MW: Yes. He would have done yesterday. CB: Well we can pick up with that later. MW: And then of course we became very friendly and I was moved from Chivenor. He was at Chivenor with me. 517 moved from Brawdy to Chivenor. CB: Right. MW: And then I was – CB: In Cornwall. MW: Ah. Yes. Devon isn’t it? CB: Cornwall. Oh well it might be Devon on the north. Yes. MW: No. No. No. It’s Devon. CB: Devon. You’re right. Ok. Yeah. I take it back. MW: Getting my maps wrong. CB: No. You’re right. You’re right. Yes. MW: And we, we became friendly and he was at Waddington and I was at, still at Chivenor and then I moved to Northwood. To headquarters. Coastal Command. To try and tidy up their map office. And we met frequently up and down in London. Concerts and things. And then we, we were married in ’47 in Lincoln because he was then at Waddington and I was working at the Post Office. I managed to get a job in the Post Office and — CB: Because you had left the RAF by then. MW: Hmmn? CB: You had left the RAF by then. MW: Yes. I was demobbed in 1947. CB: Yeah. MW: Because I did an extra year, you see. I could have come out earlier but I did an extra year because I didn’t really know what I needed. What I wanted to do. From being a nursery governess on civvy street the RAF didn’t really want me. So I re-mustered to being, and was promoted to acting sergeant to become a telephonist and I was training as a telephonist and then decided that I would do an extra year but after that I came out. And then we lived in Lincoln — Navenby, for a while and then we moved. Roy was moved to Abingdon. And to Upper Heyford and we moved in to Oxford and I was working for the Post Office then. And after then [pause] he was posted to Aden. That must have been 1948. We were married in ‘47. In ‘48 he was posted. He was posted to Aden for two years. I didn’t go immediately because the RAF were very difficult [pause] fussy about where you, where you lived. There wasn’t really much European accommodation in Aden at that time and you had to find somewhere that was vetted by the RAF if you had a wife or somebody going out there. So I went later and we were out there in Aden for two years. Came back to Abingdon and he, and we managed, we bought a house in Radley. CB: How long were you in, was he in Abingdon? RAF Abingdon. MW: Quite a while actually. Until he went to Dunstable and then he went to Dunstable and we moved to Aylesbury. CB: Now what was the significance of Dunstable because this is, he’s now out of the RAF? MW: The Met officer at that time had various little places. There was Harrow and Dunstable and somewhere else but no, no proper headquarters as such. And then they built the Met Office headquarters at Bracknell and he moved with everybody else from Dunstable and Harrow. Everybody went. Came to Bracknell. CB: So — MW: Yes, well he then, after being at Aylesbury we came to Bracknell and he then, we all, we moved here in 1960. CB: ‘61. MW: And we’ve been here since and as far as —Roy retired and he did a little bit of work with the Met Office after he retired but nothing very much and he spent most of his time gardening and going for walks and that sort of thing really for his retirement. But he didn’t play golf or do anything like that particularly. CB: At what point did he leave the RAF? Was that after being stationed at Abingdon? MW: What time? CB: Yeah. So, you went to Aden. MW: Yes. CB: And he was still in the RAF then. Was he? MW: No. He was back in civvies. CB: Ok. So, when did he come out of the RAF? MW: It must have been. It was — when we were married in ‘47 he was, he was still, he was back in to the Met Office so it must have been early ‘47 when he came out. CB: So, by then the RAF had forecasters who were civilians and Met Office employees. MW: Yes. You see they were civilians because — that was the difficult thing in the RAF. And I had difficulty with one on one occasion at Linton when I went into the briefing room with the maps and I found a civilian in there. A civilian man who — everything was so secret. So spot on with security. CB: Yeah. MW: And I said to him, ‘What are you doing here?’ And he said, ‘Well, I am the Met Officer.’ And I didn’t know that the Met officers were still civilians you see. Of course this was a problem in the RAF at that time. Some of the cooks were civilians. And one, one or two of the map people were civilians but not to do with intelligence. That was a different section. Navigation maps. Anything else there? CB: Yeah. So he, in practical terms, if the Met observers were flying then they were part of the RAF is what you are saying. As I understand it. MW: Yes. Exactly. Yes. CB: Is that right? So, the war ended in Europe on the 8th of May 1945. Where was Roy then? MW: He was still at Brawdy. CB: Right. Oh at Brawdy still. Ok. MW: And he was in the RAF at Brawdy. Yes. CB: Yes. Then he went to Chivenor and he was still in the RAF. MW: That’s right. Yes. CB: So, after Chivenor then? Is that when, because the war had now finished, did he come out immediately then or was it only at a later — MW: I can’t really remember that but he I think he came out quite soon and then he was, he went to Waddington. CB: Yes. MW: And he was certainly by ‘47. In April ‘47, when we were married, he was out of the RAF. CB: Yeah. MW: And back in civvies. [pause] You’re tired. I was doing that at church Other: A short nap. CB: Forty winks in church doesn’t do you any good does it? No. MW: I know. I know. I get so tired. CB: I know what you mean. Anyway, so that’s really useful because you’ve prompted me ‘cause I remember the point about the Met officers on airfields tended to be civilians. And so what you’re saying is – MW: It was confusing. CB: When the war finished. MW: Yes. CB: Then he wasn’t flying any longer. So he was flying from Chivenor still? Was he? MW: From Chivenor? CB: Yes. MW: Oh yes. CB: Yeah. MW: Yes. CB: Right. MW: What were they doing in Chivenor? I can’t quite remember that very well. It might well tell you in there. It will. In the back. CB: Yes. MW: [unclear] CB: We’ll have a look. And you talked about on the sorties then they were flying at different heights. MW: Yes. CB: What affect, what sort of strain were they under as a result of this sort of operation? MW: What sort of —? CB: Because —well they were sometimes high and low. And sometimes low. Did that put a strain on them? MW: Absolutely. It did. Yes. CB: In what way? How did that manifest itself? MW: Keep going up and down. Yes. CB: Yeah. MW: And those were twelve hour shifts usually. CB: Were they? MW: It was very long. It was a long trip out. CB: And what do you remember about the crews of these —? MW: Oh, quite a lot. CB: Go on. MW: They were a very cheerful crew. CB: Were they? MW: We kept in touch until Steve died two years ago. He was the pilot. We’d been in touch all those years. Bob Hockey was the navigator. He was an extremely good navigator. In fact, in later years Bob navigated on Morning Cloud for Edward Heath. CB: Right. MW: Yes. He was very good. And Taffy was the rear gunner I think. CB: So, on what circumstance — you met Roy originally. MW: Oh, probably at a mess dance or something although probably more likely it would have been at the music club because he wasn’t in to dancing. He would be at the music club. Or we used to go down to the coast. We could walk from Brawdy to [unclear] and there was a café down there. We used to go down there in sort of bunches of us, groups of us and have a cup of tea and a chat. CB: Did the whole crew move around socially together? MW: Yeah. Most of the time. Yes. Yes. They were always — they were always together at private functions and things. They were. You found that with the bomber crews. They all, they were always, if one came in to the office then the whole lot would be in. They would follow. CB: They were the family. MW: They were like a family. Yes. CB: Their bond was extraordinary. MW: It was. Yes. CB: And it was just interesting to know about what it was like in the Met flights as well because that had a different danger. MW: Oh, you read about this bond with the crew. They were like brothers really. CB: Yeah. So, the Met flight. The squadrons like 517 that were collecting the Met information had the task of flying high and low. Twelve hour flights. To what extent was there a danger of enemy aircraft? MW: Enemy aircraft. CB: Interception. MW: Very little. CB: Right. MW: Yes. I don’t think they had one. They did have one or two tragic things happen but it’s not worth going into those. CB: What sort of things would happen? MW: Well, one of them they were diverted because the weather was notoriously bad in Brawdy. You could be flying on the circuit ready to come in and the mist would just come down just in a sheet and you couldn’t land. You’d have to be, you’d be diverted somewhere. And this aircraft got diverted and didn’t know the area presumably and crashed into [pause] whether it was, I think he must have mistaken the, mistaken the cloud base for the, for the top of a cliff and they were all killed. I can’t really remember a lot of the details of that but it was quite tragic because Roy had actually flown with that pilot. CB: Oh, really. MW: He was a chap, I think he was either from New Zealand or Australia and he was called Skinner but I’m not [pause] they did have some — one or two near shaves. I remember Roy saying they went around three times trying to get into Brawdy and they bumped three times. It was all a bit — they made a bit of fun of it but it wasn’t funny at the time. They really weren’t. They had one or two. What else? CB: Sorry. MW: Anything else you want to — CB: Yes. So as, meteorological observers — meteorological observers — Met observers were they trying to find good weather or bad weather? MW: In the Met Office? CB: Normally. When they were, when the squadron was going on its flights. MW: Oh, they went. When it was good enough they went. It had to be very bad — they couldn’t take off or something. Otherwise they always went. Yes. Yes. As I say Brawdy was very bad in as much as it didn’t, it didn’t give you much, much time to get because the low cloud would come in very quickly. Within minutes. And you couldn’t manage. CB: And at Chivenor where he moved to next what was that like for weather? MW: Chivenor was better. Yes. Yes. Brawdy was unusual. I suppose along the Welsh coast you might expect that to happen really. CB: Why did the squadron move to Chivenor? Do you know? MW: We all moved. I don’t know why but we all moved there really. I moved into a map office that was [pause] I think, yes, the girl I took over from was being demobbed ‘cause she’d been in earlier but I worked quite a lot with the navigation officer at that stage rather than intelligence because at that stage I was really clearing up. The map offices were closing down. They didn’t need them at that stage, you see. They didn’t need maps and charts like we had done during the war. During the actual activities. So, and then when I came to Northwood from Chivenor it was equally the same. But I haven’t said about being at Shawbury and I was at Shawbury before I went to Brawdy. CB: In Shropshire. MW: I’d forgotten about that because I wasn’t really concentrating on me. CB: No. No. MW: We were concentrating on Roy. I was at Shawbury and we were doing a lot of work with — what was that aircraft? CB: With the Halifax? MW: No. It’s not a Halifax. CB: I’ve got it here. I’ll pass it to you. Hang on. I’ll stop the tape for a mo. [Recording paused] CB: Now if we may just go back on Roy’s activities. You’ve got out the album and we’re looking at pictures in the album. This is showing low level pictures of ships that they photographed here. So were they, were there weather ships as well as aircraft gaining Met intelligence or was it only aircraft? MW: I’m not sure but I think, I don’t think it was only aircraft that were involved. CB: Right. Yeah. So, what was Roy’s attitude to his job flying as a Met observer? MW: Oh, I think he enjoyed it. Yes. I think he enjoyed the company of being with a crew and being —he always wanted to fly because as you know they were all volunteers anyway. CB: Absolutely. MW: But he — the Coastal Command is quite different from Bomber Command and also with Fighter Command. They’re all individual flights and don’t really relate to each other very much [pause] but equally they were all doing their — CB: So, there, 517 Squadron was his squadron flying out of Brawdy. What were the other squadrons there because you weren’t supporting 517 were you? MW: Yes. CB: Oh, you were. MW: Yes. CB: Right. MW: By that time, Bomber Command, I’d moved from Bomber Command to Coastal. CB: Yes. But there were several squadrons at Brawdy were there? MW: No. Not really. I don’t think. There was 517. I can’t remember any other squadron. CB: Ok. Right. MW: Mind you we were running down you see. CB: Yes. Because we’d got to the end of the war. MW: This was late on, you see. CB: And Roy was commissioned in the RAF in the war. He started as a flying officer. What rank did he progress to? MW: He didn’t go any further than flying officer. CB: Right. MW: But he really didn’t, I said to him yesterday, ‘Do you know where your log book is?’ And he said he didn’t know exactly. He thought it might be in one of the top cupboards which I can’t get in to now but he said there isn’t a lot of information in the logbook but you are welcome to have a look at it. CB: It would be useful to see. MW: Right. Yes. CB: Please because — MW: I’ll get Richard to go up there. CB: Yes. Thank you. It would set the scene really well on what’s going on. So, now we’re getting to the end of the war so the requirement for Met observers is different. Did he ask to transfer back to the Met office or was he just instructed to do it? MW: No, he wanted to come back. He needed to. He wanted to get out of the air force to come back in to the Met Office because that’s where his work was, he felt. The work he needed to do. CB: Then you went to Aden. So what was it like being in Aden? MW: In Aden. It was very hot [laughs]. It was quite enjoyable really when you got used to the heat but being, in younger days you did get used to the heat and it’s — [pause] We lived in the Crescent Hotel which was, because he was entitled to RAF accommodation but not for a wife. So, he came out. There was very little accommodation for Europeans. We couldn’t really — it was very difficult and expensive to try and find. I went out by boat on The Windrush. It took fourteen days, fifteen nights to get there. CB: Through the Suez Canal. MW: And Roy said, ‘You don’t need to bring any wellie boots because it never rains here.’ It was pouring when I arrived. CB: So, what other families were there? MW: I hadn’t any family then. CB: No. But other families. There were other wives there. Were there? MW: Oh yes. Yes. CB: And what did you do because it was hot and no house? MW: Well, we — [pause] Yes. We had coffee mornings together and because we didn’t have any people like hairdressings or manicure ladies or anything it was quite a big social life. We were either dining out or dancing or something practically every night. And so we, if we had any skills at all we helped each other out with hairdressing and those sort of things. Roy had — Roy had to wear, in the mess, and when we were dining out, always white shirts and cummerbund. Black cummerbund and for the ladies it was always evening dress. You couldn’t go anywhere without evening dress. It was really quite formal in that respect. CB: So, he was a civilian by then, and — but the circle of people was RAF. MW: Yes. Officer class because Roy was then classed as an officer although he wasn’t in the RAF. CB: No. No. He had officer status. And was there a link with the navy and the army as well? MW: Possibly, that I really didn’t know about. But I had a small job and I worked for British Airways. Or BOAC as it was then. CB: Right. MW: And I was, I suppose you would call it an air hostess but possibly not quite that strong. I went on the aircraft as they came in to land and told them — checked all their documents. The ones that were staying overnight — got them into the hotel. And the rest of them — told them where they were and what date. What the date was and what the time it was and made sure they were going in the right direction. And then I brought the other ones — anybody else back to the hotel. Collected them again in the morning to get them onto their flight. So, I did that for quite a while. CB: So, when Roy went to Gan did you come back to the UK? MW: Well, we came back from Aden. CB: Yeah. MW: Yes. CB: Oh you did come back from Aden first. Yes. MW: We came back from Aden to Abingdon. CB: Right. MW: And then we started the family and then we came here. It wasn’t until we came here that he, he went to Gan. CB: Yeah. MW: Roy went to Gan on his own. CB: Yes. MW: Because we couldn’t take families to Gan anyway. CB: No. No. So what do you think Roy’s recollections of his flying times were? MW: His? CB: When he was flying as a Met observer. MW: Oh very good. Yes. CB: Yeah. MW: They were a very happy crew. Yes. CB: But he, he progressed well in civilian life and went around to all sorts of different places. MW: Roy’s not ever been a very social person. This is his problem now. That he won’t socialise. Any socialising I’ve had to do and he had hardly any friends when he really left the RAF, the Met office, for that simple reason. That he doesn’t, he doesn’t know what to talk about other than the Met office or his family or perhaps the garden. Politically yes. He knows. If you want to know something he will, he can tell you the answers but he’s not a social person at all. Now, he’s having difficulty because he won’t socialise in the home. Yesterday, he was sitting on his own. But he’s got to be alright. CB: Good. Thank you. [Recording paused] MW: His achievements. CB: So, you said that Roy always wanted to be in the RAF but he was a clever boy at school. MW: I mean his maths and science were exceptional and [pause] but the fact that the war was already on. Started. Decided, decided that he would miss university and go into the RAF but he couldn’t get in to the RAF at that time so he took the Met office. CB: Do you remember why it was the RAF wouldn’t take him at that moment? MW: I think it was, it was possibly due to age because he was only eighteen when he left the boarding school. CB: Right. And had he identified that in going in the RAF he wanted to do Meteorology? How did he get into that? MW: No. I think he was sort of, he was rather pushed in to that. CB: Right. MW: But his degree he was going to do on geography he did actually, started to do an Open University type of course. But he didn’t continue with it. The pressure in the Met Office was quite a lot really. CB: How much do you know how he came to be guided towards the Met Office? MW: With? CB: How did, how did he join the Met Office? MW: How did he? His job. CB: How did he join it? Who persuaded him that that was the – MW: I’ve no idea really. CB: No. MW: No. I think his leaning towards science had always — well I mean I think he would, if that’s where your strength was, in other words, wasn’t it? CB: Now we spoke earlier about the situation of D-day particularly and the controversy about the forecasting there. Now, was Roy to some extent involved in the forecasting for D-day? MW: No. Not really. No. CB: Not directly. MW: That was later you see and Roy was — I don’t think so. But I’m saying no but I wouldn’t be absolutely sure what he [pause] CB: The reason I asked the question was because he was flying Epicure which was down in the Bay of Biscay. The concentration of shipping and air was based would be having weather from that area because on balance the British weather comes from the west. So that’s why I was asking the question. MW: Yes. He may well have done. I wouldn’t be sure. I don’t know how I could — I could ask Brian Booth. He might know. CB: Well we might pick up on that later. MW: Yes. CB: Yes. So, what was the — what would you say was the highlight of Roy’s career in the Met Office? Or associated activities. MW: I have to tell you Chris if I wanted to wind Roy up I would say, ‘You didn’t want a wife. You’re married to the Met Office.’ And quite honestly, he was. He enjoyed it. I think. Enjoyed the forecasting. CB: Right. MW: And he, he was involved in quite a few special things that went on and he had his picture in The Telegraph and The Observer on occasions when they were doing special things. But I don’t know [pause] it’s — CB: This was Met office activities rather than the RAF. Yes. MW: Yes. Since we’d been married but where those cuttings are I would have to get the boys to find them. CB: Yes. MW: You can’t reach them. You really can’t. CB: What would you think in his mind was a particular low of his activities in — either in the RAF or in the Met Office? MW: What? CB: A low point. MW: A low point. CB: Yeah. That he didn’t like, in other words. MW: Well, he didn’t like, in fact a lot of them didn’t like the fact that the civil service were not progressing or not keeping up with, with the scale of pay until well after we came here. I can’t remember the year now but the pay was very poor compared with industries. In fact, he did, when we’d been married nine months when he was posted to Aden and he seriously thought of giving it up then and applied to the various firms that dealt with the sort of jobs he felt the jobs he could do. In fact, he was offered various jobs but in the end the pension plus the wages — one outweighed the other, you see. And he decided he would stay with the Met Office. But it wasn’t until quite late on that the pension scheme and the salary came into line with the rest of the people. You probably remember. CB: I remember that the civil service pay was a bit of a challenge some years ago. MW: It must have been — it must have been about ‘62 when we did get a rise. And now of course the Met Office pension — well, I don’t know what I’d do without it. CB: No. Quite. MW: It is a very good pension. CB: Yeah. MW: On his on his grade. CB: Yes. Ok. Did he have any inhibitions about his activities in the war? Were there things that he particularly didn’t like? MW: I don’t think so. No. I don’t think. We were all very young you see I think. CB: Yes. MW: We didn’t really — and we went into the business of young men who decided to be conscientious objectors at one stage and I think we did go into that didn’t we? CB: Yes. Yeah. MW: But you had to be a certain type and I — very few of the boys that I met and knew who were [pause] well they all wanted the war over. Yes. They all wanted to be back in civvy street and doing the things they wanted to do but on a whole it was, it wasn’t a sad story at all. CB: No. MW: No. CB: That’s really interesting and helpful. Thank you very much Mary. So, we’ll stop there and we’ve got the album so we’ll pick up various bits, if necessary, at another time. MW: Ok. CB: Thank you, Mary, [recording paused] MW: You may find them of interest. Otherwise — CB: So, we’re talking about Brian Booth who was a Met Office colleague. MW: Yes. CB: And do you want to just describe what the key issues there are? MW: This? CB: The main issues associated with what Brian has said. MW: Well no. I think, I mean Brian would be happy to talk to you. CB: Yes. MW: If you wanted to. CB: Yes. MW: But these are lectures that he’s given. CB: Oh right. Ok. MW: Over the years. Over the last few years. He’s still very much into doing the – CB: Yes. Ok. So, we’ll —that’s a separate issue. I think I’ll start with this. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Interview with Mary Ward about her husband Roy Ward Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Chris Brockbank Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2016-04-24 Type The nature or genre of the resource Sound Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context AWardEM160424 Conforms To An established standard to which the described resource conforms. Pending review Description An account of the resource Roy Ward joined the Meteorological Office when he was 18 and served as a Meteorological officer with 517 Squadron. He returned to the Meteorological Office as a civilian after the war and his final job before retirement was as a weather forecaster at Heathrow Airport. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Julie Williams Cathy Brearley Maureen Clarke Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Language A language of the resource eng Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Royal Air Force Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. Great Britain England--Devon Wales--Pembrokeshire Heathrow Airport (London, England) England--Dunstable Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 00:54:30 audio recording 517 Squadron ground personnel Halifax meteorological officer RAF Brawdy RAF Chivenor https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/1297/20291/LBoltonJD67631v2.2.pdf a19c307060396699cb9db03d948c59ba Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bolton, J D Description An account of the resource Three items. The collection concerns John Derek Bolton (915543, 67631) and contains two Log books and squadron maintenance log containing a memoir. He flew 80 operations as a pilot with 455, 571, 608 and 162 squadrons. The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by David Bolton and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2017-09-06 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bolton, JD Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource John Derek Bolton’s pilots log book. Two Description An account of the resource Pilots log book for John Derek Bolton, covering the period from 17 March 1946 to 14 June 1947. Detailing his civilian flying duties. He was based at Heathrow, Kenley and Redhill. Aircraft flown were, Cambridge Sailplane, Kite 1 Sailplane, Lancaster, Lancastrian, Tiger Moth, York, Auster and Olympia. Flights were carried out to Lisbon, Bathurst, Natal, Rio de Janero, Buenos Aires and Montevideo. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource John Derek Bolton Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Mike Connock Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource One booklet Language A language of the resource eng Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Text. Log book and record book Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context LBoltonJD67631v2 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Civilian Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. Argentina Brazil Canada Great Britain Portugal Uruguay South America Argentina--Buenos Aires Brazil--Natal Brazil--Rio de Janeiro England--London England--Surrey New Brunswick--Bathurst Portugal--Lisbon Uruguay--Montevideo New Brunswick Heathrow Airport (London, England) Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1946 1947 Conforms To An established standard to which the described resource conforms. Review Oct 2024 aircrew Lancaster Lancastrian pilot RAF Kenley Tiger Moth York https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/1564/43465/MCurtisA1579599-161130-02.pdf 6ade64adf230bddeecdea07af9f1c55d Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Curtis, A Curtis, Len Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2016-11-30 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Curtis, A Description An account of the resource Three items. The collection concerns "Len" Curtis (1579599 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, documents and a manuscript. He flew operations as a bomb aimer with 106, 630 and 617 Squadrons. The collection was loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Cary Curtis and catalogued by Barry Hunter. Transcribed document A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Transcription Text transcribed from audio recording or document LANCASTER J B 139 [drawing] DARK VICTOR [Page break] [Photograph] Don Cheney’s crew (photograph taken in London circa December 1943). Back row (L-R): R. Pool, J. Rosher, W. N. Wait, McRostie. Front row (L-R): R. Welch, D. Cheney, A Curtis L’équipage de Don cheney [sic] (photo prise à Londres vers décembre 1943). Debout, de gauche à droite: R. Pool, J. Rosher, W. N. Wait, McRostie. Assis, de gauche à droite: R. Welch, D. Cheney, A Curtis. [Page break] 617 Squadron’s campaign against the V-Sites in the Pas de Calais had concluded with the final assault on the V-1 site at Siracourt on 1st August, 1944. The Pas de Calais had been over-run by various units of the Allied Armies, positively breaking out from the consolidated beach-head area, and sending the German forces into headlong retreat along the whole front, save for the various French coastal redoubts, which the Allies initially by-passed without making any strong effort to subdue them. 617 Squadron, in company with other squadrons of Bomber Command, had pulverised the enemy’s E-Boat flotillas in the French harbours of Le Havre and Boulogne, forcing the remnants to retreat to the comparatively safer harbours of Holland, notably Ijmuiden. These units now had a much longer voyage to oppose the invasion support convoys and this, together with the short summer nights, had rendered their efforts against these convoys almost innocuous and very costly in the casualties inflicted by the convoy escorts. With the underlying threat of the V-Sites firmly removed, 617’s efforts were re-directed against the French Biscay ports of Brest, Lorient and La Pallice. The aim was to deny these ports and their facilities to the ocean-going U-Boats and to drive them to other, and more northerly lairs. There was an additional purpose in the matter of Brest. Strong American forces had broken out of their bridgehead area and were deploying rapidly and with great purpose through the “bocage” country of Normandy and Brittany. American units had isolated the German garrison in Cherbourg, one of the planned redoubts, whilst other motorised and armoured columns were making all speed towards Brest. The Allies needed to capture a large established [Page break] deep-water port as soon as possible. Thus, the German garrison in Brest, with their numbers greatly increased by the many other German units which had sought refuge from the American advance, needed to have demonstrated to them just exactly what the total Allied air supremacy would bring to them during any period they might resolve to hold out. “Drive out the U-Boats and intimidate the garrison” . . . these were the deadly purposes of the assaults about to be launched from the air on Brest. Flying Officer Don Cheney eased Lancaster “KC – V“ (JB 139) into the air at 0949 hours on Saturday, 5th August, 1944, from RAF Woodhall Spa. The squadron effort was sixteen Lancasters, each armed with a Tallboy bomb, and “V – Victor” was the ninth aircraft to get airborne. Beside the pilot, Flight Sergeant Jim Rosher prepared to ease back the throttles and later set the “revs and boost” his captain would request for the climb to height, once the full take-off procedure had been fulfilled. Flight Sergeant Len Curtis prepared to take his Bomb Aimer’s position in the nose from his perch on the step immediately below the flight engineer’s position. At the navigation table Pilot Officer Roy Welch was busy “setting out his stall” . . as was the wireless operator Flight Sergeant Reg Pool at the W/T set. In the mid-upper turret Warrant Officer Ken Porter settled himself comfortably, whilst Pilot Officer William Noel Wait did likewise in the rear turret. Both gunners prepared to unlock and test their turrets when the engines were throttled back and it was safe to do so. The aircraft circled the airfield until the navigator warned that it was almost time to set course. Don brought the Lancaster round on to the [Page break] required heading over the airfield and commenced the long, unhurried climb to the operational height of 18,000 feet. It was a beautiful summer’s day . . . very warm with almost cloudless skies affording continuous sunshine. The mighty Merlins lifted the heavily-laden aircraft effortlessly and without one discordant note. Don checked with each member of the crew that all systems were operational and that there were no snags. He actioned the occasional slight course correction offered by the industrious navigator. When the aircraft had reached the operational height, Don called for the necessary cruising “revs and boost” to be set on the dials, checking the readings when he had Jim Rosher’s assertion that this had been carried out. Don felt quite elated that another operational phase was beginning for the squadron against the U-Boat pens, with formidable Brest as the first target. He had found the tasks on 617 much more self-satisfying than those long, and very demanding, hauls in the enemy darkness, to bomb Target Indicators laid by other unknown crews. In the daylight raids of 617, captains were required to identify their aiming-points visually and to aim their bombs at this point . . often able to observe the success of the squadron’s effort before the confirming reconnaissance photos were available. Even on the 617 night operations, the Lancaster crews knew that the target had been identified and marked with meticulous accuracy by the squadron’s Mosquito marking force, so that the red spot fires could be bombed with the certain knowledge that they were on the aiming point. Don’s mind slipped back to the attack on the Watten V2 site in the Pas de Calais on July 25th, when the very accurate flak defences had knocked out one engine of his aircraft and so severely damaged the hydraulic system that all turrets became inoperable: the bomb doors hung limply open and the [Page break] availability of the undercarriage became a matter of conjecture and prayer. The fuselage was awash with hydraulic oil and filled with the acrid smell of cordite. Miraculously, the intercomm was working and Don had raised all the crew, save the mid-upper gunner, the Aussie “Mac” McRostie. Don instructed the wireless operator to investigate the silence, in case the gunner was in need of assistance. A shaken Reg Pool appeared beside him some moments later, puled Don’s right earpiece aside and yelled “Mac’s gone!”. Don banked the aircraft, to bring it round course back to the UK, at the same time surveying the area below. His eye picked up the white silk of a parachute against the background of green countryside. It was about four thousand feet below the Lancaster and drifting gently inland. Mac’s prisoner-of-war status had been reported to Allied sources within a few days by the Resistance network. Don had taken stock of the damage to the aircraft during the return flight, and was greatly relieved to discover that no fires had started and that no member of the crew was injured. Some desultory heavy flak was aimed at them as they neared the French coast, but it was inaccurate and did no damage. Jim Rosher called Don’s attention to something overhead and there, sitting some thirty feet above the Lancaster, and sliding gently across and back again, was a Spitfire. The Spit then perched just off the starboard wing, with he pilot giving “Thumbs Up”, until the English coast was reached and then, with a salute of farewell, it peeled off to starboard and was gone. There was a temptation to “drop in“ at one of the many ‘dromes en route, but dogged persistence drove them on to Woodhall Spa. Fortuitously, the emergency air bottles “blew down” and locked the undercarriage and “T for Tare” flopped in without ceremony or waste of time, on clearance from the Control Tower. [Page break] It was this series of events that had introduced Ken Porter into the crew. Ken had finished his first tour with 619 Squadron at Coningsby and had immediately opted to join 617. By coincidence, Don Cheney had been the pilot of the Lancaster which had flown the short distance from Woodhall Spa to Coningsby to pick him up and effect his transfer to his new squadron. Don was very pleased to have a fellow Canadian in his crew, for all the other members were from the United Kingdom and . . . Len Curtis’ voice broke in on his musings. “English coast coming up, navigator . . . we look to be OK on track and I’ll give you “crossing coast” when we’re overhead”. Roy Welch duly acknowledged the message and Don alerted himself for the passage across the Channel and into enemy territory. Once over the sea, both gunners performed the ritual test of the turret guns and reported all guns serviceable. ”V – Victor” crossed the enemy coast without any opposition manifesting itself, with the promised Spitfire escort ranged above and around the assembling 617, as they marshalled at the rendezvous point. Don took his allocated position in the “gaggle”, which proceeded on its stately and irrevocable purpose. The bomb-sight data passed between the navigator and the bomb-aimer, to be re-checked once it had been fed to the bomb-sight and before the aircraft was committed to the bombing run. Then the formation swung sharply to starboard, denying confirmation to the defenders of Brest that the port was really the objective of the operation until the last possible moment., The campaign against the U-Boat bases had begun in deadly earnest. The run-up to the target was some twenty miles in length. As always, the Stabilised Automatic Bomb-Sight demanded the closest tolerances of height, course and airspeed from the pilot and Don Cheney’s total concentration was [Page break] on these three factors. He knew from Len Curtis’s calm voice and quiet, unhurried directions that the bomb-aimer had the target well and truly lined up in his bomb-sight. Sweat trickled into Don’s eyes and down the side of his face, soaking into the collar of his shirt . . . not much longer now, and the Tallboy would be on its lethal way and he would have the luxury of drying himself with his handkerchief . . . not much longer for that blessed relief . . . not much longer. Suddenly, the voice of the rear gunner broke into the intercomm. “Looks as if some quite heavy barrage fire is coming up, skip!”. Don did not answer, his whole being concentrated on the final crucial moments of the bombing run. Ken Porter swung his turret to check the rear gunner’s observation. A second string of black bursts appeared above the black cotton-wool of the initial salvo and his experienced eye could see that the salvos were creeping higher and nearer. Don heard the dulled explosions . . . under the nose and to each side, he surmised, but the bomb-aimer’s directions held him in thrall. Then came the memory-stirring clangs and thumps as direct hits struck the aircraft with giant hammer-blows. A gasping cry came over the intercomm but still the bomb-aimer continued his relentless commentary. The cockpit filled with cordite fumes and again fiery red bursts erupted around the aircraft. Another involuntary cry came over the intercomm, almost drowned by the triumphant cry of “Bomb Gone!” from the bomb-aimer. With the main duty now performed, Don began the task of extricating the crew from the serious situation in which they obviously were. He banked and dived the Lancaster to port to elude further predicted bursts. Jim Rosher folded his seat and moved towards the navigation table. Don was still holding the dive from the danger zone when Jim came on the intercom. “Roy and Reg are both hurt, Don” he reported. “I’m attending to Roy . . . Ken and Noel have come forward [Page break] [inserted] 7 [/inserted] and are attending to Reg”. “Any idea of the damage, Jim?” asked Don. “All the gauges on the Engineer’s panel are wrecked, Don” replied Jim. Ken Porter came on the intercom. “I got down from my turret after the first strike, Don, to see what the score was . . and then the second shell struck home, just aft of the main spar, I figure. I almost choked on the fumes from the explosion of that shell! The damage seems to be confined to the starboard side of the kite, in the wing-root area”. “There’s a large hole in the nav table” interjected Jim “and the radio compartment is pretty badly smashed!”. “Thanks both” replied Don. “Could Roy give me a course for Base when he’s ready?”. Jim Rosher realised that Don did not quite know the extent of the navigatgor’s [sic] wounds. Shrapnel had struck him in the face, tearing away the oxygen mask and removing his upper teeth and gums. Jim had just applied a field dressing to the area . . . despite the pain he was suffering, Ron had managed to smile crookedly when the pad was put in place. When Don’s request came over the intercomm, and to Jim’s utter amazement, Roy sat up in his chair, pored over his log and wrote some figures on a clip-board pad. He then stood up with a great effort. Aware of movement on his right, Don turned quickly. Roy was standing by the pilot’s seat, one hand grasping the high, armour-plated back and the other carrying the clip-board. His face was covered from nose to chin with a large antiseptic pad. There were large spots of blood on his shirt collar and on the side of his head. He was unable to speak but relinquished his grip on the seat-back, to hold the clip-board where Don could read it, indicating with his pencil the message he had written. “Heading 060”. . Don gave him a grateful nod and set the course on his compass repeater. Roy tottered back to his seat for Jim Rosher to continue to minister to his wounds. Len [Page break] Curtis had switched off the SABS and all the bombing gear and brought the First Aid kit to assist the two wounded members. Don continued the descending turn to port, aiming to bring the Lancaster on to the course so gallantly proffered by the navigator. He had noted that Ron was not on oxygen and assumed that Reg was in the same predicament, so he had increased the rate of descent in order to get down below oxygen height as quickly as possible. The compass needle was nearing a southerly heading in the continuing turn, when he felt a poke in the side. He looked to his right and saw Jim Rosher pointing to the starboard wing. Don looked along the raised wing and was appalled to see a large jagged hole between the two engines. It looked large enough for a man to crawl through! Beyond this chasm, was a number of smaller holes, from which were emerging small light blue flames and wisps of smoke. He continued the diving turn to port, to keep the possible fire hazard away from the fuselage. He mentally summed up the prospects and gave the order “Prepare to abandon aircraft! Prepare to abandon aircraft!”. Jim Rosher checked that his ‘chute was readily to hand. He saw that Len Curtis was still busily engaged, ministering gently to the badly-wounded Wireless Operator, who had sustained wounds in the chest and legs from large jagged pieces of shrapnel. Jim lowered himself into the bombing well to prepare the escape hatch for abandonment, a duty which normally Len would have performed. He was lifting the hatch from its location when he noticed that Len Curtis’s ‘chute was lying loose on the floor. Fearing that the slipstream might suck it from the aircraft when the hatch was jettisoned, Jim let go of the hatch, which by this time was half-way out of the aircraft. The impact of the slipstream jammed the hatch across the [Page break] escape exit. Jim crawled carefully around the partially-blocked exit and secured the rogue ‘chute in its proper stowage. He then endeavoured to deal with the recalcitrant hatch cover. He managed to budge it a few inches but that was all. He gave up and returned to his post beside the pilot. On receipt of the captain’s order, Ken Porter and Noel Wait immediately went back to their ‘chute stowages to clamp their parachutes on their chests, leaving Len Curtis still ministering to the wireless operator. Noel Wait was having some trouble with his ‘chute pack and Ken Porter went to help him. Noel must have thought that Ken was on his way to the rear door, for he called urgently “Wait for me!” . . . which Don heard on the intercom and he sought to reassure the rear gunner that the order was only preparatory at that time. Suddenly the starboard inner engine failed and began to belch flames and black smoke. Jim Rosher quickly feathered the engine and threw the appropriate graviner switch to quell the flames in that engine. This seemed to deal effectively with the situation. “Both wings are holed, Don” reported Jim “and the fuselage is badly holed and torn in many places!”. Don could see a blue flame burning ominously in the No 2 fuel tank. It seemed to be growing even as he watched. He could feel heat building up from the starboard side of the cockpit. There was not a moment to Lose! . . “ABANDON AIRCRAFT! ABANDON AIRCRAFT!” he ordered. At the rear of the aircraft, Noel Wait had plugged into the intercomm socket whilst Ken Porter had secured the rear door open. Ken saw that flames were streaming back from the starboard wing, almost the length of the fuselage. The flames and smoke dispersed suddenly, but hard on the heels of this Ken received a visual signal from Noel that the order to [Page break] abandon aircraft had been given. He signed for Noel to go first, but Noel indicated for Ken to lead the way. Ken sat on the door sill with his legs dangling in the slip-stream. He leaned back and then tried to roll himself forward, as had been so easy in the practice drills. But due to the aircraft’s “starboard wing up” attitude, the roll forward took a great deal of effort and Ken found himself leaving the aircraft much closer to the fuselage than he might have expected. However, that seemed to ensure he was well clear of the tail assembly. He had no doubt that Noel would quickly follow him. Jim Rosher slid forward into the bombing well and tried desperately to free the jammed hatch. Suddenly he was aware that Roy Welch was beside him, ‘chute clipped on and a large dressing still strapped across his face. In spite of his injuries, Roy assisted Jim to such effect that, although their efforts failed to free the hatch cover, it was moved sufficiently to allow a somewhat cramped escape route. Roy waved his hand in farewell to Jim and, with some difficulty, launched himself from the aircraft. Jim turned to see that Len Curtis was now in the bombing well. He put his mouth close to Len’s ear and said “How’s Reg?” “He’s right behind me!” replied Len “You leave now and I’ll follow you!” Immediately Jim manoeuvred himself through the restricted escape exit and was gone. Len edged his way around to his ‘chute stowage, clamped the ‘chute on to his harness and returned to the jammed hatch cover. He could see that he was not going to be able to negotiate the exit as he constituted at the moment, being, in his own words, “somewhat portly”. He tried without success to budge the jammed cover. Reg Pool was sitting dazedly on the fuselage floor, above the step leading into the bombing well. Len signalled Reg to retreat a bit, to give Len more [Page break] room, but it was obvious that Reg just did not understand what Len was indicating. Len released the ‘chute straps from his main harness, whilst keeping the ‘chute secured in the clamps. He used both hands to raise the pack above his head and sat down at the escape exit with his feet through the narrowed opening. Gripping the pack above his head as tightly as his fingers would allow, he uttered a silent prayer and thrust himself into space. His stratagem worked and he cleared the aircraft without difficulty. Don Cheney had ceased turning the aircraft to port on issuing the order to abandon and held it at height on a southerly course whilst his crew got out. He could see that the aircraft was just out to sea and felt that his crew would have a better chance of escaping capture in the area south of Brest, if the surge of the German retreat had been pell-mell northwards towards Brest once Wehrmacht units had been appraised of the American “break-out in great strength” some days previously. One of Jim Rosher’s last acts before leaving the aircraft had been to lay a ‘chute pack under Don’s seat, to expedite Don’s own departure from the Lancaster. Don had been fully informed of the situation with the jammed hatch cover. He was aware of the departure of the navigator, flight engineer and then his bomb-aimer. He knew that the two gunners had left by the rear door and appreciated that the badly-wounded wireless operator and himself were the sole remaining aircrew. He climbed down from his seat and, holding the aircraft as steady as possible by keeping his left hand on the control column, he strove with his right arm to help Reg to his feet. Slowly he managed to raise Reg and used both hands to steady the weakened aircrew. As soon as he had taken his hand from the control column, the aircraft began to wallow ominously from side to [Page break] side. Don was forced to regain his seat and settle the aircraft again. Reg clung precariously to the side of the seat whilst this was happening. When he was satisfied that the aircraft was on even keel again, Don left his seat and clipped his wireless operator’s ‘chute on to Reg’s harness. Reg had been holding the pack, but was obviously too weak to do this task for himself. The Lancaster insisted on nosing into a steep dive each time Don took his hand from the controls and repeatedly Don had to regain his seat to bring the aircraft out of the dive. Eventually, Reg had been prepared for abandoning the aircraft. In one of the Lancaster’s “behaviour lulls”, Don was able to lead him down to the escape exit. Reg dangled his feet through the escape exit and, with Don’s help and guidance, was able to grasp the silver D-ring. Again, Don had to leave him to “recover” the aircraft from a dive. As soon as he could, he returned to Reg’s side. Don had some misgivings about Reg’s capacity to act correctly once he had left the aircraft and sought to reassure himself, although there really was no alternative to what had to happen. Don removed Reg’s helmet and, putting his mouth close to Reg’s ear, he said urgently “You will be OK, Reg, won’t you? . . . once you’ve left the aircraft?” The injured man nodded a couple of times. Somewhat reassured, Don continued “Keep hold of the ring, Reg and don’t pull it until you are well clear . . . understand?” Again he was answered with nods of the head. Don put his hands under Reg’s armpits, lifted him and eased him gently through the exit. Suddenly, Reg was gone without any further hurt or hindrance. Don peered through the exit but failed to pick up any sign of a parachute. He became aware that the aircraft was diving again and hurried back to regain control and to prepare for his own departure. [Page break] Don had scarcely retrieved the situation when there was a surge of heat from the starboard side of the fuselage. Instinctively he turned to the engineer’s panel and was aghast to see bubbles appearing in the yellow paint of the panel. He climbed down from his seat and stooped to retrieve his ‘chute pack and clipped it to his chest. He had to remove his hand from the controls to effect this and immediately the Lancaster went into a steep dive. A noise like a roaring tornado developed as the slipstream tore in through the escape hatch and ravaged through the battered fuselage to escape at the open rear door. The engine noise was rising to a crescendo! . . . he fought his way back into his seat and with a superhuman effort, brought the nose up . . up . . up . . and then pushed the column forward until a semblance of “straight and level” flight was assumed. His mind had been racing ahead . . . no way was he going to be able to get down into the bombing-well and launch himself into space before the stricken Lancaster went into its final death-dive . . . no way could he reach the rear door exit, either! No, it HAD to be through the ditching hatch above his head! He turned in his seat, so that he was able to kneel on the seat cushion and jam his rump against the control column. He gave the release handle a firm twist and the hatch cover windmilled off into the slip-stream. The wind-noise increased ten-fold! Don removed his helmet and sun-glasses and tossed them towards the floor, but they were immediately whisked off down the fuselage. With his feet now on the seat, he forced his head and shoulders through the hatch opening but found he was unable to clear it. Urgently, he sought to get first one foot and then the other on the seat armrests . . . and then was shattered to find that the ‘chute pack prevented him from getting through the hatch! He crouched back again inside the cockpit. The [Page break] aircraft was in a steep dive and his best efforts could only bring the nose up slightly. He knew he HAD to get out NOW! He resumed his attempt to get through the dinghy hatch, but this time was able to flip the pack upwards and clear of the hatch before beginning to wrestle the rest of his body through the opening. He stood on the armrests again and managed to get his right knee on the edge of the hatch. His left foot groped frantically for additional purchase below. Miraculously, he made contact with the back of the seat . . . felt his way upwards until his foot was at the top of his seat which provided a promise of firm leverage. He paused to gather all his reserves of strength and then gave a tremendous push on his left foot. He bulleted out into a roaring cacophony of sound. The blurred hump of the mid-upper turret flashed past and, with that peculiar human sense that allows one to observe the innocuous in moments of great personal stress, he gave mental thanks that Ken had remembered to depress the turret guns. The two large tail fins loomed and went safely by and with them the W/T aerials that could have cut through him like a wire through cheese . . . and then he was tumbling in space, with his knees drawn up to his chest. In his gyrations he saw blue sky and white clouds framed between his flying boots . . . then water . . . then land . . . then the sky and clouds again to complete the cycle. His consciousness was no longer dominated by the roar of the aircraft. Instead, there was a rushing of air past his ears. He felt around the pack for the release handle and seized it thankfully. He waited a further five seconds and gave it a very firm pull. It gave with incredible ease and he was conscious of holding the D-ring in his hand, with a two-feet length of wire attached to it and not the slightest slackening of his speed of fall! “Hell!” he thought “I’ve pulled it too [Page break] hard and the “chute just isn’t going to work! What an ending after all I’ve escaped!”. A definite “whumpf” halted these thoughts in their tracks . . . his headlong fall was arrested . . . he assumed an upright position . . . no more rushing air in his ears. He was floating gently aloft, with only the gentle flapping of the beautiful white canopy above him to break the silence of that lovely summer afternoon. He heard the drone of an aircraft and looked around to see “V for Victor” in its death throes. It had reared from its downward plunge, with its nose rising until the Lancaster toppled over. For one frightening moment Don felt that there was a distinct possibility of the aircraft banking round and perhaps striking him, but then it went into a gentle spin towards the sea. An eternity seemed to pass before it finally struck the surface with one final roar. A great burst of red flames and thick black smoke was followed by a boiling circle of churning sea. The Don saw a series of smaller splashes as lesser debris hit the water, but finally nothing remained to mark the grave of “V for Victor” but a column of spiralling smoke which the sea breeze quickly dispersed. A dull, muted droning of aircraft engines became faintly audible. Peering into the distance, Don could make out the specks of other 617 aircraft which, having delivered their bomb-loads, were now haring back to Woodhall Spa. Soon they were gone and an unbroken silence descended. Don could see no other ‘chutes in the sky around him. To all intents and purposes he was completely alone. [Page break] Len Curtis was greatly relieved when the billowing silk canopy of his parachute arrested his headlong fall through space. He became aware that, whilst he had been wrestling his way through the narrowed escape hatch, the racing slip-stream had torn off his right flying boot, and for a few moments he was non-plussed . . . why hadn’t his left flying boots joined its companion? But he was swiftly dragged back to reality when he saw the Lancaster turning towards him in a shallow dive. For a few agonising moments, he was sure that it would hit him, but suddenly it resumed straight and level flight and the danger passed, but too close for real comfort. Len examined the area around and below him but failed to pick up the ‘chutes of Roy Welch and Jim Rosher. He began to assess his own situation and estimated that he would enter the waters of the bay some two miles from land. The sensation of rapid descent increased as he neared the water. He prepared himself for the plunge by unlocking the quick-release unit of the ‘chute. When he judged himself to be about fifteen feet above the surface of the sea, he struck the unit with his clenched fist, at the same time operating the automatic inflation lever on his Mae West. He fell out of his ‘chute and harness, which drifted away, clear of the spot where Len eventually hit the water. He went down only a few feet before rising buoyantly to the surface. He surveyed the geography of the bay and found himself in the broad base of its sweep. Undaunted, he commenced to swim towards the shore, deflating his Mae West slightly to allow himself to assume a comfortable swimming posture. He was glad to find that the water was quite warm and felt that, under less intimidating circumstances, it would have been quite a pleasant way to spend a summer afternoon. He glanced at his watch . . it had stopped at 1220 pm. [Page break] He made steady progress towards an outcrop of rock and estimated that he had been in the sea for about two hours, when a burst of automatic fire split the silence. He heard the hiss of the bullets as they passed overhead and he turned to face the direction from which they had come. He made out a knot of German troops on the beach. About half-dozen had their weapons trained threateningly on him, whilst one beckoned him imperiously to change his direction towards them, making it plain what would happen if he refused. Cursing his luck, Len swam towards them and soon he was standing on the beach, dripping wet, surrounded by Germans. They expertly removed all his valuables and possessions, which they pocketed with great satisfaction, but the reception was generally cordial. Obviously, they remarked between themselves on his missing boot. Len discarded his Mae West, and it was immediately examined by the interested troops. Len was disgusted to find that they were armed with Sten guns . . . the guns that the supply squadrons regularly dropped to the Resistance! His captors were obviously a platoon under the command of a Corporal, but quite soon a car appeared from which emerged a Wehrmacht officer. He strode across to Len, who stood to attention, as military etiquette demanded. The German studies Len for a few moments. “Ah, Feldwebel” he said and motioned Len into the car. With Len flanked in the rear by two “Sten-armed” soldiers, and the officer in the front passenger seat, the car moved off. It sped through a town which Len was to learn later was Douarnenez and on for some way until it reached a small military camp. Len was escorted to a cell and a meal of German field rations and hot black erzatz coffee was provided, again with the same cordiality that had reigned on the beach. He rested for an hour or so, when the door was unlocked and a Feldwebel beckoned him out. He was taken to an office block and escorted into a room where a different [Page break] Wehrmacht officer sat at a table. Len saluted as he entered and the officer indicated the chair which faced him across the table. Len sat down and prepared himself for the interrogation. “Number . . . rank and name” he was asked, in quite reasonable English and Len provided this information, which was entered on the form in front of his interrogator. “Unit?”, came the next question. Len shook his head “I am afraid I cannot give you that, sir” he replied. The officer looked at him quizzically and after a few moments, pushed himself back from the table and left the room through a door behind his desk . . . Len heard a muffled conversation between perhaps three or four voices and then the officer returned. “Sergeant, you will be taken to Quimper airport tomorrow and handed over to the Luftwaffe. The information you have given us will be forwarded, as required, but we have more important things to do at this moment than to interrogate RAF prisoners.” He called for the Feldwebel and soon Len found himself back in his cell. Relief allowed him to sleep quite soundly that night. In the morning he was given a meal and transported under guard to Quimper airfield. Before he left the camp, he was handed a pair of German Army issue boots. Len took a grip on the leg and boot of his flying boot with a few swift jerks, separated them by breaking the stitching, as provided by their design. He tore out the silk linings of the legging, folded them into small packs, and put them in the back pockets of his battle-dress trousers. He managed to have some conversation with his guards on the drive to Quimper and discovered that the majority of the troops holding this part of France were Austrian and Czech formations. There was an awareness of the American break-out from the invasion beaches and Len was left with the distinct impression that his guards wanted nothing more [Page break] than to be captured in one piece and get out of this war! This cheered him no end, and went a long way in explaining the cordiality with which he had been received. At Quimper airfield, he was placed in the custody of a Luftwaffe corporal, who seemed to be the only Luftwaffe representative left. His Wehrmacht guards and driver insisted on shaking hands with him before they left, and Len was becoming more and more at ease with his situation. The Luftwaffe corporal turned out to be a conscripted Czech who had a few similar Czech troopers under his command. He was quite amenable and spoke some English. Len gathered that the corporal was hourly expecting orders to evacuate the airfield and this would mean moving a band of about two hundred French Algerian prisoners-of-war . . and Len! He spent a not unpleasant day at Quimper and could see that morale amongst the German “mercenaries” was plunging. The following day, Monday 7th August, the Luftwaffe corporal informed Len that orders had come through to evacuate the airfield and move all prisoners into the Crozon Peninsular. It was estimated that a march of some 45 kilometres lay ahead, which Len interpolated as around 28 miles. The corporal added that the march would be accomplished at night, since the Allied Air Forces had made the roads in Brittany very dangerous for the movement of large formations in daylight hours. Len rested most of the day in preparation for what lay ahead. At about 1700 hrs, the corporal and his troop began the thankless task of assembling their French-Algerian prisoners, many of whom had so many large packages draped about them that they looked like pack-mules! Just before 1800 hrs the party, in some fifty [Page break] files of four abreast, trudged out of the camp, en route for the Crozon Peninsular, with the corporal pushing his beloved bike. It was a warm clear evening, with the guards anxiously scanning the skies and straining their ears for the first possible warning of an air attack. Fortune favoured the column in this respect and dusk fell with no interference from marauding Allied fighters. Dusk turned to night, with bright moonlight effectively lighting the road. The party, which had had a degree of compactness at the outset, was now strung out over a distance of some four hundred yards. Consequently, the escort became ever more thinly spread along the length of the column. They passed through what appeared to be sleeping French villages, although Len was certain that curtains were raised in darkened upstairs windows to observe their progress. He wondered if “underground” radios were passing the information on to Maquis squads and fervently hoped that no clandestine ambush would be laid against the party before its identity had been checked. Occasionally a halt was called for a short break, generally in the area of a village pump, or public water supply. The dispersal of the marchers had one advantage, in that it made for less crowding around the drinking area. It also allowed the mass to coagulate somewhat, although the more lightly-weighted elements were soon ahead of the “beasts of burden” once the march was resumed. Len’s feet became blistered, and so he sat down on a grassy bank, removed his German field boots and put his feet in the cool water of the brook that ran past. He soaked some of the linings from his flying-boot and carefully bound up his blistered feet, revelling in the relief that the silk pads immediately afforded. He became aware that many of the Algerians now passing him were limping badly. Ignoring the guards, Len called to them, indicating for them to sit on the bank and bathe their feet as he had [Page break] done. They did this gratefully. Len set to work to minister to as many as he could until his lining stock was exhausted, but he still signalled to others to bathe their feet. The guards shrugged their shoulders . . . some even joined their charges in their ministrations. Still the trek dragged on its weary way. Fruit trees and occasional root crops gave sustenance to the prisoners, for no ration provision had been made for them when the march was ordered. Len quite understood when he saw them stuffing items into their baggage after each “windfall” . . . they were providing against what might lie beyond their next camp. Len was padding along beside the bike-pushing corporal, who was becoming quite concerned about the spread of the column, now that their destination was about two hours walk ahead. The corporal called a halt for the prisoners at the head of his party and indicated to Len that he would be going back to “chivvy along” the stragglers. He left his bike in Len’s charge and strode back down the road. When he was out of sight, Len mounted the cycle and pedalled off towards the squad of prisoners ahead. Some of the Algerians thought he was escaping and gave him encouraging cheers, but Len felt his best bet in the obvious chaotic battle situation was to accept his present captivity until a genuine opportunity presented itself to make contact with Allied troops. In the meantime, using the corporal’s bike would take the weight off his blistered feet! When he was almost upon the leading batch, he dismounted and rested by the roadside. When the first file of the laggards hove into hearing and view, he remounted the bike and caught up with the leaders once more. He continued this routine of “riding and resting” for an hour or so before actually riding through the ranks of the pace-setters and finally making the guards understand that their batch should wait for the remainder of the prisoners [Page break] to catch up, so that the party could arrive as a whole unit at their destination, which could not be all that far ahead. The prospect of a break appealed to the guards and the prisoners and they were quite content to rest for the hour it took the whole of the rear party to catch up. The corporal was pleased with Len’s arrangements but took the precaution of reclaiming his bike, so that Len finished the trek on his own two well-rested feet. It was just after 1100 hours on Tuesday, 8th August that the whole party arrived at their destination in the Crozon Peninsular, some eighteen hours after leaving Quimper airfield. The Algerians were marched on to a makeshift camp, but Len was taken by the Czech corporal to a house that had been commandeered by the Wehrmacht. Len was accommodated in a bedroom converted into a cell and was asleep almost as soon as his head touched the rough pillow. [Page break] Len was kept in this location for two days, with very little restriction on his movements. His corporal “friend” accompanied him on exercise walks in the immediate areas and Len was “on the ration strength” of the guard-room staff, eating the same food as they did. Len observed that the Wehrmacht were just as opportunist at supplementing rations as any other army in the field and included him in the share of the “extras”. On the evening of the third day, a small Wehrmacht lorry stopped outside the guard-room. The driver produced orders for Len’s transfer to Brest and Len was duly handed over, after hand-shakes all round, much to the amazement of the lorry driver who proved to be a genuine ”German” German! Two Wehrmacht soldiers with fixed bayonets watched over him in the body of the truck, but they also showed great concern about the almost-continuous aircraft engine noise that accompanied that nocturnal journey to what proved to be Brest, but, to the great relief of all, they made the journey without incident. Len was initially kept in a small school, barricaded with barbed wire, along with mainly American Army prisoners, although he did come across two more RAF aircrew during his stay. Yet again the Germans decided to move him and he was transplanted within the Brest boundaries to a castle which housed some one hundred and fifty American soldiers. He was occasionally included in the fatigue parties that were roughly assembled and marched down into the dock area to help clear the rubble-strewn streets, the legacy of the many bombing raids that the port was enduring. Low-flying and dive-bombing American fighter-bombers strafed and bombed the port’s defences continually throughout the daylight hours, with great effect. Len was crossing a street when he heard a bomb coming down that he knew was going to be very close. He dived into the [Page break] gutter, with his face turned in towards the kerb and his hands clasped behind his neck. He sensed more than heard the explosion but felt the blast on his hands. He leapt to his feet and headed for a shelter like a scalded cat. He literally dived into the shelter which was mainly filled with German personnel but they made room for him and no-one objected to his presence. On another occasion in the dock area he took shelter when the Air Raid sirens screamed their warning and an ominous silence descended on the port for a few minutes, until the heavy flak began to spit in anger. Instinct told Len this was a “heavies job” but he didn’t stand in the open to decide whether it was the RAF or the Eighth Army Air Force. A few minutes later the walls of the shelter trembled as salvos of bombs plummeted into the harbour area, although Len was pretty sure they were not Tallboys! The Germans decided to move the prisoners from Brest. The military situation was becoming extreme for them and they could no longer spare the considerable number of front-line personnel needed to maintain the prisoner-of-war organisation. These guards were now needed as replacements for the defenders killed by the Allied Air Forces. The column of prisoners was moved out at night and marched, via the town of Le Fret, to the small seaside resort of Rostellec, in the Crozon Peninsular. The days passed, with the food stocks dwindling. All French civilians had long been cleared out of Rostellec and Len and his immediate companions began to scavenge for food to supplement their meagre fare. It was a great find to discover onions in the overgrown wilderness of what had once been a lovingly tended vegetable garden of one of the village houses. The military population of the Crozon Peninsular grew each day, as the German troops [Page break] retreated before the American mobile forces. Rostellec provided Len and the other Allied prisoners with a grand-stand view of the bombing of Brest by RAF and American aircraft. Soon the concentrations on the Peninsular were bombed heavily and regularly by light bombers and fighters, inevitably causing casualties among the American prisoners and some of the members of the French Resistance confined with them. Over fifty were wiped out in one raid alone. Eventually, on Monday, 18th September, six weeks after he had been shot down, liberating forces of the American Army rolled into the Crozon Peninsular. The bottled-up Germans had had enough and the surrender was swift and unanimous. With magnificent perception, among the early arrivals with the US Army were large lorries liberally laden with “PX supplies” and soon field-kitchens were providing almost “peace-time” meals for the hungry hordes of prisoners. Len ate and drank his fill before slipping off to find a comfortable billet for the night. He found himself in a house that had been an impromptu Mess for Wehrmacht officers. The beds were clean and comfortable. He lowered himself thankfully into the depths of the most inviting of them and was soon sleeping that sound and deeply refreshing sleep which was known in the Air Force as “a short course of Death”. The sun was well up when he surfaced again. He lay luxuriating in the bed, gathering his thoughts and making plans for the day. He would have to make contact with some US officer who could arrange transport . . or offer help . . to get him back to England and Woodhall Spa. Eventually he sat up and began to dress, when suddenly he became curious to know what might be contained in the furniture with which the room was furnished. The chest of drawers [Page break] revealed nothing of interest but the wardrobe yielded a pair of German officer’s field boots! The leather was beautifully soft and shiny. Len drew them on, scarcely daring to breathe, and he almost shouted with delight at their perfect fit. He drew his battledress trouser-legs down over them which served to make it appear that he was wearing normal shoes. He finished dressing and made his way to the nearest field-kitchen where he was supplied with food by the American cooks without demur. When he was finished, he approached a huge sergeant-cook and asked where he could find a US officer. The sergeant stared at him for a moment “A god-dammed Limey!” he said “Jeez, they had one of everything in this place!” “Officers? Boy, they’re as thick as flies around here” he continued “Just walk around and you’re sure to find one!”. Len took his advice and soon saw a jeep with an American officer and two sergeants aboard. He approached the jeep, threw up a smart salute and said “Excuse me, sir!”. The dust-covered American looked quite startled but Len pressed on. “I am a bomb-aimer in the RAF. I was shot down six weeks ago and am anxious to get back to my unit in England. Can you help me?”. “Not personally, sergeant” replied the officer. “You see, there’s this war on and we’ve got to gather in all the Kraut prisoners and ship out all our own captured personnel for assessment and re-allocation . . and that’s quite a job in any man’s army!” He paused for a moment and then went on “Just down there, on the right, they’ve established an MT compound and Mess. Your best bet is to speak to one of the quartermasters. The lorries are running supplies from the dump at Rennes and the boys from up in the wild blue yonder have a makeshift airfield at Rennes . . chances are you can thumb an aerial lift there”. “Thank you, sir . . very helpful” replied Len, saluted and turned away. He heard one [Page break] of the sergeants say “These Limeys! Always correct and military, even when they’ve been six weeks adrift!”. Len found the compound and watch [sic] the activity for a while. He saw that the drivers of lorries arriving with stores vacated their seats to the Camp personnel and hurried off to the large marquee which was obviously a temporary Mess. German prisoners-of-wat supplemented the American Army personnel in the unloading of the vehicles. Once a vehicle was unloaded, it was driven off the site and parked in a lager where it was refuelled and checked. After some ten minutes or so, drivers came to reclaim their vehicles which were driven off westwards at a fair rate of knots. Len wandered over to where the top-sergeant was standing and occasionally bawling. “Excuse me, sergeant . . . how can I get a lift to Rennes?” The sergeant wheeled at the sound of Len’s voice and in a voice heavy with amazement said “A god-damn Limey! I heard you were all still stuck on the beaches!” “No, I’ve been here six weeks, sergeant” replied Len innocently. “Six weeks, eh?” rejoined the sergeant “Guess you want to get back to Limeyland real quick. Best you can do is go over to the chow tent and ask around . . . most of the trucks are running from Rennes”. Len thanked him and turned towards the marquee. “Limey” called the sergeant “Make sure you take some of the hard-tack for the journey. There are no roadside cafes along that road now!”. Len sauntered into the marquee and marvelled at the quality of the food that was being offered to the drivers. He approached one driver who seemed to be almost finished eating. “Excuse me . . any chance of a lift back to Rennes?”. The American surveyed him for a few moments and said “Who are you?”. “RAF aircrew, shot down over Brest six weeks ago. I want to get back [Page break] to England and an officer out there said the best way was to hitch a lift back to Rennes, with a chance of getting an air trip from the airfield there”. “Your luck’s in, fellah” smiled the American “My orders take me to Rennes airfield, to load up and return to this Base. I’ll be glad of the company!”. Len waited until the driver had finished his coffee and followed him out of the marquee. From a table close to the entrance, the American grabbed two bags and tossed one to Len. “Hard tack for the journey” he explained, at the same time lifting a large Thermos flask from the side of the table. The lorry was quickly located and soon they were heading westwards, on the 150 miles journey to Rennes. The driver was most anxious to hear about Len’s previous six weeks in France and that conversation, together with the “chow break”, made the five hours journey pass reasonably quickly. It was getting quite dark when they pulled into Rennes airfield. “No night-flying from this field, Limey” said the American. “Best plan is to find yourself somewhere to sleep for the night and try your luck in the morning”. Len thanked his for his help and descended from the truck near a group of airfield buildings. He found a camp bed and a blanket in one of the rooms and settled down for the night. Len awoke around 7 am on what promised to be another fine day. There was no sound of flying activity from the airfield as he dressed. He found a stand-pipe tap between the buildings and had a refreshing cold-water wash which revived him no end. He looked across the airfield and saw what appeared to be Dakota aircraft on the farther side and began to walk around the grass perimeter towards this dispersal. Suddenly a wonderful small of cooking assailed his nostrils and reminded him that he was quite hungry. He followed his nose, somewhat like the kids in the “Bisto” advert, and came [Page break] upon an underground air-raid shelter from which the aroma was issuing. He called down “Anyone there?” which immediately struck his as trite, since obviously some-one had to be cooking the food! His call brought the head and shoulders of an American sergeant into view. He looked questioningly at Len, without saying a word. “Any chance of some grub, sarge?” queried Len hopefully. “What’s a Limey doing here at this time of the morning?” countered the American. Len gave him a rapid potted history of the past six weeks, which seemed to satisfy the soldier. “Anything to trade?” queried the sergeant. Len offered him the choice of the few German badges and insignia he had gathered during his sojourn in France and the satisfied sergeant withdrew into the shelter. He appeared some minutes later with a huge sandwich, which Len found to contain a large portion of beautifully cooked Texas longhorn steak, topped with two eggs, to be washed down with as much coffee as he wished. Len did not rush this meal . . . such a feast needed to be savoured and appreciated to the last crumb! Finally he took his leave of his benefactor and made his way to the dispersals, which were now a hive of activity. A study of the area revealed to Len what appeared to be the Administrative centre. He made his way over to this hut and explained his position to the top-sergeant seated in a smaller office inside. “Yeah” said the sergeant “Plenty of flights to England! Where are you heading?”. Len explained that he needed to get to London. “Fine!” came the rejoinder “Got one flight for London due to leave in about thirty minutes! Come with me, Limey”. He escorted Len across the tarmac and introduced him to two fur-jacketed American officers. “One returning Limey prisoner-of-war to be added to your manifest, sir” said the sergeant to one of the officers and sauntered off. Len found himself outlining the last six weeks to the two very interested [Page break] Americans. Before long, the Dakota was taxying to the take-off point with Len comfortably settled in the fuselage. The flight took a little over three hours and the aircraft landed at what is now Heath Row [sic]. Len thanked his hosts for the lift and made his way to a cluster of huts, to locate some RAF authority to report to and from whom to obtain instructions. He explained his circumstances to a sergeant who said “Follow me, Chiefie! There’s been quite a trickle of aircrew through here this past fortnight. I’ll take you to the officer who has the “drill” off pat now!”. Soon Len was on his way to the Central Hotel in London, where returning former P.O.W. aircrew were required to report for debriefing. He arrives at the nearest station to this Central Hotel and was walking the final stage when he heard behind him “Excuse me, Flight Sergeant”. He turned round, to find himself confronted by two Service MPs, beautifully turned out and burnished. He had time to note that one was of Warrant Officer rank, while the other, a flight sergeant, began to berate him for his appearance and threatening a charge for being improperly dressed. Mentally, Len could only agree with him, for his wardrobe consisted simply of his battledress blouse and trousers, the legs of the trousers still covering the German officer field boots . . . no socks, shirt, tie, pants or vest. However, his resentment welled up within him and he explained forcefully, with many epithets thrown in, just how he had come to this pass, and advised the SPs to allow him to continue on his journey to report his return to Higher Authority. Speechless, and suitably chastened, the SPs stood mute as Len turned his back on them and arrived at his destination. [Page break] Once his identity had been checked and proved, Len was allowed to have a bath and provided with a shaving kit to make himself presentable for the programme which followed. First, he was given the full stringent aircrew medical, which he passed without any trouble. He was then given the items of clothing he needed to assume a “smart, airmanlike appearance”, although he retained the field boots as a souvenir of his exploits. He was given a meal and then subjected to a thorough debriefing, covering the period from the moment the Lancaster was hit until his arrival at “Heath Row”. He was required to stretch and search his mind for any detail that he had observed that might prove of value to Intelligence sources. Special interest was shown in his report that the Czech and Austrian elements he had encountered appeared to be looking for the opportunity to surrender and get out of the war whole. Eventually, when he had run the full course of the Central Hotel, he was again fed, given six weeks leave, with free warrant home and the appropriate ration cards, and two pounds in cash for subsistence on the journey home . . . most of which disappeared “down the hatch” by the time his train left London. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Lancaster JB139 Dark Victor Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. France France--Pas-de-Calais France--Le Havre France--Boulogne-sur-Mer Netherlands Netherlands--Ijmuiden France--Brest France--Lorient France--La Pallice France--Brittany France--Normandy France--Cherbourg France--Watten France--Douarnenez France--Quimper France--Crozon Peninsula France--Rennes Great Britain Heathrow Airport (London, England) Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Royal Air Force Royal Air Force. Bomber Command Royal Canadian Air Force United States Army Air Force Wehrmacht Language A language of the resource eng Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Text. Memoir Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 33 printed sheets Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context MCurtisA1579599-161130-02 Description An account of the resource A memoir of an operation involving Len Curtis and his crew members. During the operation his aircraft was shot down and Len was captured. However, he was liberated by American soldiers and returned to London six weeks later. This item was sent to the IBCC Digital Archive already in digital form. No better quality copies are available. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available IBCC Digital Archive Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource 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. Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1944 1944-08-05 1945 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Anne-Marie Watson Maureen Clarke 617 Squadron 619 Squadron air gunner aircrew anti-aircraft fire bale out bomb aimer bombing of the Boulogne E-boats (15/16 June 1944) bombing of the Le Havre E-boat pens (14/15 June 1944) C-47 flight engineer Lancaster mess Mosquito navigator Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944) pilot prisoner of war RAF Coningsby RAF Woodhall Spa Resistance Spitfire Tallboy target indicator target photograph V-1 V-weapon wireless operator