1
25
16
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1246/16776/MNealeETH1395951-150731-096.1.jpg
9acaf92c3b098433ec6d5f9c53c08321
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
Neale, Ted
E T H Neale
Description
An account of the resource
123 items. The collection concerns Edward Thomas Henry Neale (b. 1922, 1395951 Royal Air Force) who served as a navigator with 37 Squadron in North Africa, the Middle East and Italy. The collection contains his training notebooks from South Africa as well as propaganda leaflets dropped by the allies in the Mediterranean theatre.
The collection also contains a photograph album, navigation logs and target photographs.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Alison Neale 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
2015-07-31
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
Neale, ETH
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[crest] 205 GROUP ROYAL AIR FORCE [crest]
Albania, Jugoslavia, Bulgaria, Syria, Iraq, Rhodes, Crete, Piraeus, Corinth, Leros, Daba, Capuzzo, Fuka, Halfaya, El Adem, Martuba, Tobruk, Benghazi, Tripoli, Mareth, Gabes, Cape Bon, Tunis
[map]
Palermo, Pantellaria, Syracuse, Messina, Salerno, Anzio, Viterbo, Guilianova, Verona, Turin, Pisa, Leghorn, Trieste, Milan, Sofia, Budapest, Steyr, Valence, Munich, Fiume, Bucharest, Ploesti, Danube
In the 1939 – 1945 World War
205 Group provided the only mobile force of heavy night bombers in the Mediterranean theatre. During the North African and Italian campaigns the Wellingtons, Halifaxes and Liberators of the Group, operating as a tactical force, attacked communications and concentrations of Rommel’s Africa Korps and of the Italian armies during their advance to the Quattara Depression, the Battle of El Alamein and during their retreat until their final capitulation in Tunisia. Without respite they operated against Kesselring’s army during the invasions of Sicily, Italy and the South of France. As a strategical force their targets – ports, airfields, marshalling yards, oil refineries and factories-ranged over the Mediterranean area and Europe. Aid was given to patriots in France, supplies and arms’ were dropped to Partizans in the Balkans and to the patriots in Warsaw. The Danube was mined persistently.
Shining courage is the epitaph of those who died.
We will remember them.
JUNE 1940 MAY 1945
[indecipherable word] A.B. Rud
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
205 Group Royal Air Force
Description
An account of the resource
A commemorative poster with a map of Southern Europe and North Africa. Around the outside is a list of locations where operations were carried out. There is a paragraph with details of the operations.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
205 Group Royal Air Force
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One printed sheet
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MNealeETH1395951-150731-096
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
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.
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Albania
Austria
Austria--Steyr
Bulgaria
Bulgaria--Sofia
Croatia
Croatia--Rijeka
Danube River
France
France--Valence (Drôme)
Germany
Germany--Munich
Greece
Greece--Corinth Canal
Greece--Crete
Greece--Piraeus
Greece--Rhodes (Island)
Hungary
Hungary--Budapest
Iraq
Italy
Italy--Anzio
Italy--Giulianova
Italy--Livorno
Italy--Messina
Italy--Milan
Italy--Palermo
Italy--Pantelleria Island
Italy--Pisa
Italy--Salerno
Italy--Syracuse
Italy--Trieste
Italy--Turin
Italy--Verona
Italy--Viterbo
Libya
Libya--Banghāzī
Libya--Martuba
Libya--Tobruk
Libya--Tripoli
North Africa
Romania
Romania--Bucharest
Romania--Ploiești
Syria
Tunisia
Tunisia--Mareth Line
Tunisia--Qābis
Tunisia--Sharīk Peninsula
Tunisia--Tunis
Egypt--Fukah
Greece--Leros (Municipality)
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Steve Baldwin
bombing
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1826/33147/MScottEW188329-170406-05.2.jpg
8d339628d989d4029271af63a73ee7c5
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
Scott, Eric William
E W Scott
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
2017-04-06
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
Scott, EW
Description
An account of the resource
139 items. The collection concerns Flying Officer Eric Scott (1425952, 188329 Royal Air Force) and contains his log books, a memoir, correspondence, documents, newspaper cuttings, a flying course handbook and photographs. He flew operations in North Africa as a bomb aimer with 142 Squadron and then after an instructional tour in Palestine started a second tour on 37 Squadron in Italy where he was shot down and finished the war as a prisoner. <br /><br />The collection includes three albums.<br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2040"><span>Album 1</span></a> <span>Photographs of Jerusalem, Bethlehem. Tel Aviv, Haifa and friends.</span><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2041">Album 2</a> <span>Photographs taken during training in the United States and England and during his service in North Africa and Italy.<br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2046">Album 3</a> Correspondence, newspaper cuttings, documents and the last issue of the Prisoner of war Journal.<br /></span><br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Jacqui Holman and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
205 GROUP ROYAL AIR FORCE
[map]
ALBANIA
JUGOSLAVIA
BULGARIA
SYRIA
IRAQ
RHODES
CRETE
PIRAEUS
CORINTH
LEROS
DABA
CAPUZZO
FUKA
HALFAYA
EL ADEM
MARTUBA
TOBRUK
BENGHAZI
TRIPOLI
MARETH
GABES
CAPE BON
TUNIS
JUNE 1940
PALERMO
PANTELLARIA
SYRACUSE
MESSINA
ANZIO
VITERBO
GUILIANOVA
VERONA
TURIN
PISA
LEGHORN
TRIESTE
MILAN
SOFIA
BUDAPEST
STEYR
VALENCE
MUNICH
FIUME
BUCHAREST
PLOESTI
DANUBE
MAY 1945
[indecipherable name] A.B. Read.
In the 1939 – 1945 World War 205 Group provided the only mobile force of heavy night bombers in the Mediterranean theatre. During the North African and Italian campaigns the Wellingtons, Halifaxes and Liberators of the Group operating as a tactical force, attacked communications and concentrations of Rommel’s Afrika Korps and of the Italian armies during their advance to the Quattara Depression, the Battle of El Alamein and during their retreat until their final capitulation in Tunisia. Without respite they operated against Kesselring’s army during the invasions of Sicily, Italy and the South of France. As a strategical force their targets – ports, airfields, marshalling yards, oil refineries and factories – ranged over the Mediterranean area and Europe. Aid was given to patriots in France, supplies and arms were dropped to Partizans in the Balkans and to the patriots in Warsaw. The Danube was mined persistently. Shining courage is the epitaph of those who died.
We will remember them.
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
205 Group Royal Air Force Battle Honours
Description
An account of the resource
Map showing Mediterranean Sea and surrounding countries. Provides a history of of the group who provided the only mobile force of heavy bombers in the Mediterranean theatre. Wellington, Halifax and B-24 acted as a tactical force attacking communications and Italian and German forces throughout the North African campaign. Continued to support operations in Sicily, Italy, The Balkans and South of France. On the sides the locations of many of the targets attacked by the groups aircraft.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One page coloured map and printed text
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Map
Artwork
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MScottEW188329-170406-05
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.
Albania
Yugoslavia
Syria
Iraq
Greece
Greece--Rhodes (Island)
Greece--Crete
Greece--Piraeus
Greece--Corinth Canal
Italy
Libya
Libya--Tobruk
Libya--Banghāzī
Libya--Tripoli
Tunisia
Tunisia--Mareth Line
Tunisia--Qābis
Tunisia--Sharīk Peninsula
Tunisia--Tunis
Italy--Palermo
Italy--Pantelleria Island
Italy--Syracuse
Italy--Messina
Italy--Salerno
Italy--Anzio
Italy--Viterbo
Italy--Giulianova
Italy--Verona
Italy--Turin
Italy--Pisa
Italy--Livorno
Italy--Trieste
Italy--Milan
Bulgaria
Bulgaria--Sofia
Hungary
Hungary--Budapest
Austria
Austria--Steyr
France
France--Valence (Drôme)
Germany
Germany--Munich
Croatia
Croatia--Rijeka
Romania
Romania--Bucharest
Romania--Ploiești
Danube River
North Africa
Libya--Martuba
Egypt--Fukah
Greece--Leros (Municipality)
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1940-06
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1945-05
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
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Steve Baldwin
B-24
bombing
Halifax
Warsaw airlift (4 August - 28 September 1944)
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1826/33144/LScottEW188329v1.1.pdf
3191938df781a8aed2f6b4ae713d33a1
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
Scott, Eric William
E W Scott
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
2017-04-06
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
Scott, EW
Description
An account of the resource
139 items. The collection concerns Flying Officer Eric Scott (1425952, 188329 Royal Air Force) and contains his log books, a memoir, correspondence, documents, newspaper cuttings, a flying course handbook and photographs. He flew operations in North Africa as a bomb aimer with 142 Squadron and then after an instructional tour in Palestine started a second tour on 37 Squadron in Italy where he was shot down and finished the war as a prisoner. <br /><br />The collection includes three albums.<br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2040"><span>Album 1</span></a> <span>Photographs of Jerusalem, Bethlehem. Tel Aviv, Haifa and friends.</span><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2041">Album 2</a> <span>Photographs taken during training in the United States and England and during his service in North Africa and Italy.<br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2046">Album 3</a> Correspondence, newspaper cuttings, documents and the last issue of the Prisoner of war Journal.<br /></span><br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Jacqui Holman and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
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
Eric Scott's observer's and air gunner's flying log book
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
LScottEW188329v1
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
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending temporal coverage. Allocated
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.
Description
An account of the resource
Observer’s and air gunner’s flying log book for Eric Scott, bomb aimer, covering the period from 1 September 1942 to 4 January 1946. Detailing his flying training and operations flown as Air Bomber. He was stationed at RCAF Picton (31 Bombing & Gunnery School), RCAF Mount Hope (33 Air Navigation School), RAF Moreton-in-Marsh (21 OTU and 311 FTU), RAF Kairouan (142 Squadron), RAF El Ballah (Advanced Bombing & Gunnery School), RAF Qastina (77 OTU), RAF Torterella (37 Squadron) and RAF Pershore (23 OTU). Aircraft flown in were Anson, Battle Wellington, Dominie and DC3. Targets were - first tour – Messina (6), Olbia, Cagliari, Catania (2), Palermo, Syracuse, Marsala, Battipaglia (2), Reggio, Aquino, Pratica di Mare, Capodichino, Naples, Lamezia, Paolo-Sapri, Salerno, Bagnoli, Torre Annunziata, Leghorn, Grosseto, Formia, 'Grass Roads' [sic], Viterbo, Pesaro, Leghorn, Grazzanise and Civitavecchia. Second tour – Valence , Ploesti, Szőny, Miskolc, Bologna (2), Ravenna (3), Pesaro, Yugoslavia (Nickel), Danube (mining), Eleusis (2), Rimini, Salonika, Verona, Székesfehérvár, Opicina, Vinkovci, and Maribor. Shot down on this raid. He flew 35 night operations with 142 Squadron and 21 night with 37 Squadron making a total of 56. His pilots on operations were Sergeant Pearce, Flying Officer Kirley and Pilot Officer Jeffares.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Terry Hancock
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Danube River
Great Britain
England--Gloucestershire
France
France--Valence (Drôme)
Greece
Greece--Eleusis
Greece--Thessalonikē
Hungary
Hungary--Miskolc
Hungary--Székesfehérvár
Hungary--Szőny
Italy
Italy--Aquino
Italy--Battipaglia
Italy--Bologna
Italy--Cagliari
Italy--Catania
Italy--Civitavecchia
Italy--Formia
Italy--Grosseto
Italy--Livorno
Italy--Marsala
Italy--Messina
Italy--Naples
Italy--Palermo
Italy--Paola
Italy--Pesaro
Italy--Pisa
Italy--Pratica di Mare
Italy--Ravenna
Italy--Reggio di Calabria
Italy--Rimini
Italy--Salerno
Italy--Sapri
Italy--Syracuse
Italy--Torre Annunziata
Italy--Trieste
Italy--Verona
Italy--Viterbo
Romania
Romania--Ploiești
Slovenia
Slovenia--Maribor
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943-06-09
1943-06-19
1943-06-20
1943-06-22
1943-06-23
1943-06-28
1943-06-29
1943-06-30
1943-07-01
1943-07-04
1943-07-05
1943-07-06
1943-07-07
1943-07-08
1943-07-09
1943-07-10
1943-07-11
1943-07-12
1943-07-13
1943-07-14
1943-07-15
1943-07-16
1943-07-19
1943-07-20
1943-07-21
1943-07-22
1943-07-23
1943-07-26
1943-07-27
1943-08-02
1943-08-03
1943-08-04
1943-08-05
1943-08-07
1943-08-11
1943-08-12
1943-08-13
1943-08-14
1943-08-15
1943-08-19
1943-08-20
1943-08-22
1943-08-23
1943-08-26
1943-08-27
1943-08-29
1943-08-30
1943-08-31
1943-09-01
1943-09-06
1943-09-07
1943-09-09
1943-09-10
1943-09-11
1943-09-12
1943-09-13
1943-09-14
1943-09-15
1943-09-16
1943-09-18
1943-09-19
1943-09-23
1943-09-24
1943-09-25
1943-09-30
1943-10-01
1943-10-02
1943-10-03
1943-10-04
1944-08-15
1944-08-16
1944-08-17
1944-08-18
1944-08-21
1944-08-22
1944-08-23
1944-08-24
1944-08-25
1944-08-27
1944-09-01
1944-09-02
1944-09-04
1944-09-06
1944-09-07
1944-09-09
1944-09-10
1944-09-11
1944-09-13
1944-09-14
1944-09-15
1944-09-18
1944-09-21
1944-10-11
1944-10-13
1944-10-15
1944-10-17
1944-10-21
142 Squadron
21 OTU
23 OTU
37 Squadron
Air Observers School
aircrew
Anson
Battle
bomb aimer
bombing
Bombing and Gunnery School
C-47
Dominie
mine laying
Operational Training Unit
RAF Moreton in the Marsh
RAF Pershore
shot down
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/19/23384/L[Author][Ser -DoB]v10001.jpg
af7612828382aa365ed8fb47dc64ece2
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/19/23384/L[Author][Ser -DoB]v10002.jpg
2d096cf1e8df58f55a0223de77fbf42d
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
Auton, Jim
J Auton
Description
An account of the resource
26 items. The collection relates to Sergeant Jim Auton MBE (1924 - 2020). He was badly injured when his 178 Squadron B-24 was hit by anti-aircraft fire during an operation from Italy. The collection contains an oral history interview and ten photographs.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Jim Auton and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
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.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-07-30
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Auton, J
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[underlying page shown later]
Jim, I have attached a photocopy of the last page of [indecipherable word] duplicate log book, since the last 4 entries in the enclosed book were made by a person unknown and certified by a FLT/LT for the Major O.C. 'B' Flight.
You will see that [indecipherable word] last entry was made on 10.8.44.
Ray
[page break]
[deleted] MAY. [/deleted] 1944. Time carried forward:- 11.25 27.20
[a] Date [b] Hour [c] Aircraft Type and No. [d] Pilot [e] Duty [f] Remarks (including results of bombing, gunnery, exercises etc.) [g] Flying Times Day [h] Flying Times Night
[a] 7.8.44 [b] 22.05 [c] LIB 166 [d] CAPT. LAWRIE [e] REAR GUNNER [f] OPS. SZOMBATHELY AIR FIELD. HUNGARY [h] 05.30
[a] 10.8.44 [b] 23.30 [c] 166 [d] CAPT. LAWRIE [e] REAR GUNNER [f] OPS. GARDENING. DANUBE. D.C.O. [h] 03.50
[a] 13.8.44 [b] 19.10 [c] Z166 [d] CAPT. LAWRIE [e] REAR GUNNER [f] OPS Supply Dropping Warsaw [h] 10.05
[a] 16.8.44 [b] 19.30 [c] W161 [d] CAPT. LAWRIE [e] REAR GUNNER [f] OPS - Supply Dropping Warsaw missing from this Operation
[inserted] Last two entries made by Sqdn Gunnery Leader – Capt. W. R. Anderson D.F.M. [/inserted]
Killed in Action 17.8.44
[underlined] SUMMARY FOR AUGUST [/underlined]
NIGHT OPS – 4
NIGHT HOURS – 19.25
DAY – Nil.
[signature] Lt/Col.
Officer Commanding, 31 Sqn., S.A.A.F.
TOTAL TIME . . . [g] 11.25 [h] 46.45
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
Extracts from a Log book
Description
An account of the resource
Two last pages from a colleague's logbook. His pilot on operations was Captain Lawrie. There is a note to Jim from Ray explaining that the last entries were written by another. The owner of the logbook's name is indecipherable.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1944-08
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One handwritten extract and one handwritten note
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
L[Author][Ser#-DoB]v10001,
L[Author][Ser#-DoB]v10002
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
South African Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Hungary
Poland
Hungary--Szombathely
Danube River
Poland--Warsaw
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.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Sue Smith
31 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
B-24
killed in action
mine laying
Warsaw airlift (4 August - 28 September 1944)
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/19/23385/LBonneyA651126v1.1.pdf
06e28fc25ff0b9611bc446d60599dba5
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
Auton, Jim
J Auton
Description
An account of the resource
26 items. The collection relates to Sergeant Jim Auton MBE (1924 - 2020). He was badly injured when his 178 Squadron B-24 was hit by anti-aircraft fire during an operation from Italy. The collection contains an oral history interview and ten photographs.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Jim Auton and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
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.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-07-30
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Auton, J
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
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
Flying Officer A. Bonney’s Royal Canadian Air Force Flying Log Book for Aircrew other than Pilot
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.
Description
An account of the resource
Flying Officer A. Bonney’s Royal Canadian Air Force Flying Log Book for Aircrew other than Pilot, from 13th October 1942 to August 1944. Recording his training as an air gunner in Canada and England, two completed tours with 142 Squadron RAF based in North Africa, subsequent instructor duties, and operations with 31 Squadron South African Air Force (205 Heavy Bomber Group RAF) based in Italy. He was stationed at RCAF Mont-Joli Quebec (No 9 Bombing & Gunnery School), RAF Edgehill/Shenington (21 Operational Training Unit), RAF Blida (142 Squadron RAF), RAF Castle Kennedy (No 3 Air Gunnery School) and Celone Airfield (Foggia #1, 31 Squadron SAAF). Aircraft in which flown: Battle, Wellington, Dakota, Hudson, Anson, Martinet and Liberator. He flew 45 operations (all night-time) with 142 Squadron RAF on the following targets in Italy: Alghero, Angitola, Battipaglia, Borgo Rizzo, Cagliari, Caltanissetta, Castelventrano, Catania, Civitavecchia, Eboli, Elmas Decimomannu, Sesto Fiorentino, Formia, Marsala, Messina, Montecorvino airfield, Naples, Olbia, Palermo, Pantelleria, Pizzo, Rome (‘Nickels’), Salerno, Taranto, Villacidro and Viterbo. He also flew 12 night-time operations with 31 squadron SAAF on the following targets in Greece, Italy, Romania, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, France and Poland: Heraklion, Trieste, Bucharest, Fiume, Fanto oil refinery (Pardubice), Valence airfield, River Danube (‘Gardening’), Szombathely and Warsaw (dropping supplies). <span>His pilots on operations were</span> Sergeant Walkden and Captain Lawrie. He is recorded as missing from the last of these operations. Comments on operations include: 'Aircraft holed 24 times. 2 through my turret'.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
David Leitch
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
LBonneyA651126v1
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.
Algeria
Canada
Croatia
Czech Republic
France
Great Britain
Greece
Hungary
Italy
Poland
Romania
England--Oxfordshire
Greece--Crete
Italy--Sardinia
Italy--Sicily
Mediterranean Sea
Algeria--Blida
Croatia--Rijeka
Czech Republic--Pardubice
Danube River
France--Valence (Drôme)
Greece--Ērakleion
Hungary--Szombathely
Italy--Alghero
Italy--Angitola
Italy--Battipaglia
Italy--Borgo Rizzo
Italy--Cagliari
Italy--Caltanissetta
Italy--Castelvetrano
Italy--Catania
Italy--Civitavecchia
Italy--Decimomannu
Italy--Eboli
Italy--Elmas
Italy--Foggia
Italy--Formia
Italy--Marsala
Italy--Messina
Italy--Naples
Italy--Olbia
Italy--Palermo
Italy--Pantelleria Island
Italy--Pizzo
Italy--Rome
Italy--Salerno
Italy--Sesto Fiorentino
Italy--Taranto
Italy--Trieste
Italy--Villacidro
Italy--Viterbo
Poland--Warsaw
Québec--Mont-Joli
Romania--Bucharest
Scotland--Castle Kennedy
North Africa
Québec
Québec--Mont-Joli
Danube River
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943
1944
1943-05-08
1943-05-09
1943-05-11
1943-05-12
1943-05-13
1943-05-14
1943-05-15
1943-05-17
1943-05-18
1943-05-21
1943-05-22
1943-05-23
1943-05-24
1943-05-27
1943-05-28
1943-05-29
1943-05-30
1943-05-31
1943-06-01
1943-06-02
1943-06-06
1943-06-07
1943-06-09
1943-06-19
1943-06-20
1943-06-21
1943-06-22
1943-06-23
1943-06-24
1943-06-25
1943-06-28
1943-06-29
1943-07-02
1943-07-03
1943-07-04
1943-07-05
1943-07-08
1943-07-11
1943-07-12
1943-07-13
1943-07-14
1943-07-15
1943-08-02
1943-08-05
1943-08-06
1943-08-09
1943-08-10
1943-08-11
1943-08-12
1943-08-13
1943-08-14
1943-08-15
1943-08-16
1943-08-18
1943-08-19
1943-08-21
1943-08-22
1943-08-25
1943-08-26
1943-08-27
1943-08-28
1943-08-30
1943-08-31
1943-09-01
1943-09-04
1943-09-05
1943-09-06
1943-09-07
1943-09-08
1943-09-09
1943-09-10
1943-09-11
1944-06-04
1944-06-05
1944-06-26
1944-06-27
1944-07-02
1944-07-03
1944-07-19
1944-07-20
1944-07-21
1944-07-22
1944-07-24
1944-07-25
1944-07-26
1944-07-27
1944-07-30
1944-08-01
1944-08-07
1944-08-08
1944-08-10
1944-08-11
1944-08-13
1944-08-14
1944-08-16
1944-08-17
142 Squadron
21 OTU
31 Squadron
air gunner
Air Gunnery School
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
B-24
Battle
bombing
Bombing and Gunnery School
C-47
Hudson
Martinet
mine laying
missing in action
Operational Training Unit
RAF Castle Kennedy
RAF Shenington
training
Warsaw airlift (4 August - 28 September 1944)
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/19/43/PAutonJ1503.1.jpg
fcd84ad8b587a4e098652670dd63b4c8
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/19/43/AAutonJF150608.2.mp3
6ee59b7c7d75a4b3e1001264485de6ae
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
Auton, Jim
J Auton
Description
An account of the resource
26 items. The collection relates to Sergeant Jim Auton MBE (1924 - 2020). He was badly injured when his 178 Squadron B-24 was hit by anti-aircraft fire during an operation from Italy. The collection contains an oral history interview and ten photographs.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Jim Auton and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
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.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-07-30
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Auton, J
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
CB: Well Jim, perhaps we could start with your date and place of birth please?
JA: Yes I was born at Henlow, my father was an officer in the RAF and he happened to be stationed at Henlow when I happened to be born.
CB: And what date was that?
JA: That was the 13th of April, 1924
CB: And what do you remember about your childhood?
JA: I remember when he was transferred to Cranwell, I started infant school at Cranwell and we had to walk across the aerodrome to school, and there were about twenty of us and we were told to walk in groups together and if you see an aeroplane coming in, stand still [emphasis] so he can avoid you and we used to see aeroplanes coming in to land on the grass field, they were bi-planes of course and we’d wave to the pilot and if he waved back to us that made our day because pilots were our heroes and we all wanted to be like daddy and join the RAF when we were old enough and next to the school playground there was an aircraft dump, old fuselages, they’d taken the engines out and the instruments but we’d climb into the cockpits and stand there and go ‘dud dud du du’, we were shooting down Germans when we were five years old, we knew the Germans were the enemy, I don’t think our government knew at the time.
CB: So you have happy memories of your childhood in Cranwell?
JA: Yes, and then of course we, he was stationed at Manston and we could go in the workshop and see the fitters working on the planes, they never told us to shove off, and we liked the smell of dope on the aircraft on the canvas and, but when they took an aircraft to the butts to synchronise the guns, they’d jack up the tails to get the plane horizontal and we’d stand around with our fingers in their ears while they were shooting into the pile of sand in the butts, and then when an aircraft broke down we used to rush out across the aerodrome to help the man, help the men push it and for kids it was marvellous, we loved aeroplanes.
CB: So do you think that’s what started your desire to join the air force later on?
JA: Well you see I was brought up on RAF stations, RAF camps and I didn’t know any other life, we were isolated from the outside community, we had free medical treatment, free dental treatment, we were in married quarters most of the time where even the crockery was provided, all the linen and everything, so our whole life was in the air force until we were adults, so naturally we all wanted to be pilots when we grew up, and when the war was announced I thought ‘oh good they’ll need more pilots now’ [slight laugh]
CB: So off you went to volunteer.
JA: Well when I was seventeen I couldn’t wait, I went to join up, and I registered as a pilot but I found later they put me down pilot navigator or rather pilot observer as it was in those days so they could change me any time they wanted, and I started flying training as a pilot and then when they introduced the four engine bombers they didn’t need two pilots, so they would have a pilot and a bomb airman who had done some flying training and he in an emergency would be able to take over from the first pilot so the bomber was a second pilot, but and [slight pause] I started flying in England but the German intruders flying over us, over England were shooting us down in our training planes, so the Government opened the Empire Air Training scheme.
CB: Where did you do your initial training?
JA: At Ansty near Coventry and then after much delay because flying schools were all full and there was a waiting time, I was sent to South Africa as a navigator and I trained there as a navigator, but I wasn’t very keen on being a navigator so I also trained as an air bomber, because I knew air bombers would be allowed to pilot the plane, in an emergency, and even during training the staff pilots would allow me to take out over and fly the Oxfords and Ansons because that’s all I wanted to do really and so I trained as a navigator and a bomb airman.
CB: What about your journey down to South Africa?
JA: That was marvellous, hundreds and hundreds of them on a small Liberty ship. We were told you mustn’t be below decks during daylight, so we had to stay on the top deck in all weathers and there wasn’t room for everybody to sit down, so if somebody stood up you immediately sat in that place and some of the troops perched on the ship’s rails until they broadcast anybody falling over will drown because the ship will not stop to pick anybody up, so we couldn’t sit on the rails so we had to stand up sometimes for ten, nine or ten hours, during the day, we were fed twice a day, seven in the morning and seven in the evening and the food was like an airways meal on a tray and it wasn’t enough to keep us alive and I asked the crew, it was an American Liberty ship and the crew were Filipinos and Negroes and I asked them ‘do you have this terrible food that we have?’ and they said ‘no we’ve got plenty of food’, they said ‘if you come and work in the kitchen for us, we’ll let you have our food’, so I spent couple of weeks washing up dirty dishes until the heat got too bad and I went back on the troop deck again, but during my time in the kitchen I was allowed to sneak some food out for my friends [slight laugh] who didn’t work in the kitchen, that was all unofficial of course.
CB: Was it better food in the kitchen or just more of it?
JA: More of it and better.
CB: So they were keeping you on starving rations basically?
JA: Yes, yes, eventually the doctor said I was suffering from severe physical debility but that was much later, we were on this ship for six weeks and they warned us we were in shark infested waters and the ship wouldn’t stop for anybody falling over board, but it was quite an interesting voyage except the sun was dreadful in the tropics and there was no shade, and the officer in charge of troops thought that we were cadet officers because we wore a white flash in our caps but we weren’t and when we got to Sierra Leone Freetown somebody must have told him we were not potential officers and he said ‘right, you’ll have to do all the duties’, fire picket, fatigues, peeling potatoes and all sort of things like that and guard duty for the rest of the voyage, another three weeks and my name beginning with an A, I was one of the first to be chosen for guard duty and it was a stinking hot day and we were anchored off Freetown to re-fuel and I found a hatchway and a collapsible chair and I sat in that hatchway and dozed off because I’d had no sleep, we couldn’t sleep on the deck as it was too hot and the smell of the engine oil, and I dozed off and suddenly I was awoken when the ship’s officer came round on his inspection with the ships warrant officer and they bellowed at me ‘what are you on? sleeping duty?’ and I said ‘yes, sir’ because I didn’t like to say no to anybody in authority and they said ‘you’re under arrest in five minutes’, ‘oh dear’ I thought ‘I’ll be all on my own in prison’, the brig, the ship’s prison was below the water line, it was nice and cool and I wasn’t on my own, there were eleven other air crew cadets in there with me and the police who looked after us took us round for dinner wearing their caps and then they said ‘you keep your mouths shut and we’ll go round again’ and they took their caps off and we had a second dinner, so being in the brig wasn’t so bad, except we were locked in and we were below the water line and there were submarines about, so we thought if, if a submarine hit we’ll certainly drown like rats in a trap but it didn’t happen of course.
CB: It must have been quite a relief to get to South Africa after all that?
JA: We anchored off in Table Bay about quarter of a mile from land and the dock workers had a big lump of rusty steel plate and they wrote on it in chalk: ‘plenty of food, plenty of women, plenty of booze’ [laughs] and the next day we docked in the harbour and we were told you will be discharged tomorrow, and there was nearly a riot because we’d been cooped up for six weeks and eventually they said ‘Ok, you can go into town but you must be back at midnight so we all went into town, it was paradise, things we hadn’t seen for years like pineapples and peaches and plenty of food and so we goaded a kind of a restaurant run by volunteers for service men and some old ladies served dinner, so we had a three course dinner and when we finished they said ‘would you like anything else’, and we said ‘could we have it again please?’, so we had another three course dinner, then we had half a dozen bananas on the way back to the ship [laughs] and we brought a coconut, it was paradise, but at flying school wasn’t so funny, the day we arrived we were told that five aircraft had crashed and twenty five air crew had been killed, that’s five pilots and two navigators in each plane and two bomber men in each plane, five men in each plane and the reason was the staff pilots had been low flying round a hospital where somebody’s wife was working and all five crashed (these would be Ansons?) they were Ansons and they, we were told report those pilots for low flying in future but we didn’t do that because we liked low flying because stooging about high up isn’t much fun, but low flying is exciting [clears throat].
So after training in South Africa [coughs] for nearly a year we went up by stages through central Africa, Rhodesia, Kenya, Tanganyika, Uganda, the Sudan to Egypt where we found we were going to live in the Heliopolis Palace Hotel, marvellous [emphasis] but when we entered we found there were no beds, no furniture of any description and we had to sleep on the marble floors and our kit had been left behind in South Africa so we only had the clothes we were standing up in, so I wrapped my shoes in a towel to use as a pillow and lay my uniform down on the marble floor and slept on that, I found that I had to sleep on my back otherwise my hip stuck into the marble and it hurt [slight laugh] and then, I was then sent to Palestine where there was a war, the Jews and the Arabs were fighting each other and both sides were fighting the British Palestine police and while I was there they blew up the radio station and they blew up hotels, and people were fighting in the streets and I thought ‘I haven’t got into the war yet but I’m going to get shot by our own police’, and they had said to us, because we each had a revolver, ‘hand in the revolvers in the armoury, so I went down to the armoury which was in the cellar of the hotel and I handed my revolver in, and I saw the men there were mounting twin machine guns on a platform to be carried on a lorry, so it was a war, but then we were then transferred to Lidder, after going back to Egypt and wasting some more time sleeping in the western dessert on the sand, we had to empty our shoes thoroughly because there was scorpions in the dessert and the sand was almost too hot to walk on and the authorities had laid a tarmac path but it never hardens and it was like sticky toffee so we couldn’t walk on that [slight laugh]
CB: And this was part of your flying training or were they just moving you from place to place?
JA: Moving us around, and then we went to Lidder for a conversion course, onto Liberators, about a five week course.
CB: Were you expecting Liberators?
JA: No, when we saw that we were going to fly Liberators, we thought ‘they are American planes, why haven’t we got Lancasters?’, ‘cause we knew about Lancasters we thought they were marvellous, Liberators were unknown and didn’t even know that the RAF had Liberators and we thought they’re gonna send us to Japan because the Americans had Liberators so we were a little bit frightened of that, because we thought we should be helping defend Britain, we thought the war in Japan is an American affair and we shouldn’t be anything to do with that, but after we’d been shuttled around in Egypt to Palestine for a bit we went to Algiers by air, nine hours, and we thought we were on our way to Italy, when we got off the plane we saw a French flag and we said ‘what’s this place?’ and a French airman said ‘it’s Algeria’ or at least he said ‘it’s Maison Blanche’, we said ‘where’s that?’ he said ‘it’s Algeria, it’s North Africa’ and we said we’re supposed to be in Italy but there was nobody to ask, we could ask any questions and he said ‘you can go to a hotel here and sleep in huts in the grounds’, and then you should go to Algiers’s downtown about twenty miles and report to the RTO, transport officer, we went to see him the next day and he said ‘oh bomber crews, you’ll be here for ages, you’re low priority’, he said ‘only fighter pilots are priority one’ and our navigator said to me ‘we are priority one, I’ve read the documents’ but I said ‘shut up, it’s nice here’ so I said to him ‘the French people don’t seem very friendly’ and one of the gunners said ‘no wonder, we’ve just sunk the French fleet in Iran, so [slight laugh] after three weeks we said to the corporal in the RTO’s office, ‘I think you ought to have another look at our documents’ and he stood and talked on the telephone for a few minutes, kept us waiting because we were so insignificant, a low priority, then he looked at the documents and nearly had a fit, he said ‘you’re priority one, you should have left the same day’ he said, ‘you’ll be on a plane this afternoon’, so we fly to Italy in a freight plane with a load of boxes and an aircraft wheel that wasn’t properly strapped down, it kept shuffling around and nearly run us over, we were sitting on the floor and when we got to Italy, no customs, no immigration, nothing at all, nobody to tell us where to go or what to do, so we, first thing a service man does when he goes somewhere new is look for a tea and a bun [laughing] or what’s called a ‘shy and a wad’ and there was a little sort of canteen with Italian girls serving and they were laughing and joking, I expected Italians to be hostile like the French but they were so friendly, I thought we’re gonna like it in Italy and they kept saying ‘capiche, capiche’, and I said ‘no, no cabbage thank you, just tea and a bun’ and they said they were saying ‘do you understand?, capiche’ but we didn’t know that, but we thought they seemed nice [laughs] hope there are going to be some women where we’re going.
CB: Is this around about Naples was it?
JA: It was in Naples, and then we were transferred to Portici to a, to a holding centre, and there were people there who’d done a tour of operations and they were going on a rest period, and they were so dejected, haggard and ill looking, and they wouldn’t talk to anybody and we thought it must be terrible on a squadron, that it was demoralising to see them, anyway we stayed there a few weeks and then we were sent to Foggia by train, and you understood that Foggia is a big aircraft base, there were thousands and thousands of Americans there, with Liberators and Flying Fortresses, B24s and B17s, and we had liberators but other squadrons, some of them had clapped out wellingtons obsolete or obsolesce wellingtons so the liberators were a bit better except they weren’t new machines, they were machines that had been damaged and done a tour in the American Air Force and were now in a sort of scrap yard called a maintenance unit, and the pilots would go and ferry them to our squadron and if we were lucky we’d get the one in reasonable condition but most of them had got terrible faults, some of them had even got twisted airframes, and engine troubles common, and our fitters worked in the open air, there were no hangars, and sometimes they worked through the night in all weathers, and we were reliant on them to keep us alive.
CB: Now your crew, there was the seven of you as in a Lancaster but in this Liberator is that right?
JA: Yes, when I talk about how when I won the war I always say ‘I didn’t do it alone, there was seven of us’, and three of them were Scotsmen, one was from the Shetlands, and it took me a few, few days to learn to understand them on the intercom, because the intercom system is not very clear, it’s like a poor telephone system, and their Scottish accents were very guttural and I knew my life depends on these fellas, so I had to learn [slight laugh] to understand them and the skipper was very pleased when I joined the crew because up till then he was the youngest member, he was twenty-one and I was twenty and of course as I trained as a navigator and as an pupil pilot I was a useful member of the crew, and I’d done a gunnery course so I could do anything if anybody was killed or injured, I could take over from them, I couldn’t land a Liberator of course but I could keep it in the air long enough for the others to jump out and I said, I think I was bombing I think it was Budapest and the flak was so thick I thought we couldn’t get through it without being hit, and I looked over the side and it was like black velvet, the sky was so dark and I thought I’d jump out if I dared but I had no faith in my parachute and as I said to a Polish pilot I knew, he had parachuted safely and I said ‘ I think I’d jump out if I dared, but I’d be scared’ and he said ‘you wouldn’t hesitate if your arse was on fire’ and he was speaking from personal experience.
CB; So, you were with this very close-knit group, you were a good team, a good cohesive team?
JA: Yes, yes, you see when we arrived on the squadron nobody would talk to us because they couldn’t be bothered with new boys and when we became senior crew, we couldn’t be bothered to talk to new crews because on average they were only doing seven trips before they got shot down, and it was bad enough if our friends got shot down, but we didn’t care much about strangers being shot down so we didn’t really want to make any friends, because it would be traumatic when they died.
CB: And what were the conditions like at Foggia?
JA: The conditions were absolutely terrible, we were in a field, there were no gates, no fence, we were in a field with one solitary brick building, and that was the orderly room, the medical offices office and something the commanding officer used, he lived in a caravan, we lived in little four man tents, bivouac tents, you couldn’t stand up in them and we had no beds, we had to make our own beds out of bits of packing cases, and I had the side of a packing case with a strut across the middle, in the middle of my back, most uncomfortable, covered in cardboard, the mid-upper gunner, had a sheet of corrugated iron, I said ‘that’s why, that’s why he walks so funny’ [laugh]
CB: But you’d have the heat, you’d have the rain, it must have been terrible.
JA: It was, we’d have the side of the tents rolled up and the end flaps were open because the heat was so intense and we’d get a couple of hours sleep at night, but we couldn’t sleep more than a couple of hours so we’d get up and walk around, and when the sun came up it was unbearable and there was no shade anywhere, there was a place that we called the dining room and it was a roof on six poles with no sides and we sat on forms at trestle tables, and the cook, had an outside kitchen arrangement made out of oil drums, and the first thing I noticed was his black arms and white hands, he was twenty-one, he never wanted to be a cook, we called him Gladys because he was a nice boy.
CB: And was the food any better?
JA: The food was terrible, you see sometimes the food didn’t arrive, the food was brought to us by a lorry from somewhere distant each day, only enough for one day and after everybody had had a bit of it on the way there wasn’t much left for us, and there was hardly enough to keep us alive and sometimes the food didn’t arrive at all and we’d have nothing to eat for twenty-four hours and one day we said to Gladys our cook ‘ God for Christ’s sake Gladys, find something, there must be something left over’ and he scratched around and he found an onion, a raw onion each and a mug of tea, and that’s what we had and we had to do a nine hour flight, on an empty stomach and of course I smoked twenty cigarettes on every trip because it took away the hunger pangs, and then the medical officer discovered that the cook was using some sort of cans of meat and vegetable stew that had blown, and most of us got severe enteritis and people couldn’t control their bowels and there were no toilet facilities in the air, so people were doing it in their trousers, and sitting there on it for the rest of the trip, and some of the crews were yellow with jaundice, we didn’t know if it’s contagious or what caused it but we were living in what they called a malarias area, there were boards around the perimeter of the field we lived in, saying ‘caution, malarias area, malarias area, area’ and everyday a bowser arrived, a tanker of water but we couldn’t drink the water, it tasted of chlorine it was terribly strong, so we could only use it for washing ourselves and trying to wash clothes but we had no washing powder, we’d save little scraps of soap and put a shirt in a tub and leave it for three weeks to soak [slight laugh] and then rub it, and then rinse it and lie it in the sun, and in the hot sun it was dry in about an hour and we had nothing to eat except a mug of tea twice a day, and when we came back from operations we went to the debriefing tent, and there was a billy can full of lukewarm tea there and half a dozen mugs, they were never washed they were just recycled, we dipped them in the lukewarm tea, but if we were gone for more than five hours on a trip, we were given five boiled sweets which we promptly ate on the ground before we took off, and we were given a gallon of tea between seven of us, in a thermos jug, but that got cold, we’d saved it for the return trip and Jock the wireless operator used to bring the tea round for us cold, cold as ice, and about once a month we got what we called a tuppenny bar of chocolate but it was tropical chocolate and it never melted and in the air, I would put a piece of chocolate in my mouth and chew it and it became like gravel and then it became like dust and then I swallowed it but it never did melt, and one day some, some things arrived at the cook house, we thought they were bails of straw but they were dehydrated cabbage and that’s the worst thing you can have when you’re flying because our stomachs swelled up and we had to loosen our belts and our flying clothes because our stomachs were expanded enormously and we farted furiously throughout the trip.
CB: Did you have proper flying clothes in all this?
JA: We had flying clothing, we just recycled, the only ordinary clothing we had were ones left behind by casualties and of course lots of it was very old and our kit bags were still somewhere in Egypt or South Africa, following on about three months later and when I was in South Africa, I brought thirty oranges for a shilling, no for three pence, you couldn’t buy less because they were in a net, thirty for a ticky it was called, a threepnee bit [sic], and my kit bag wasn’t quite full so I put thirty oranges in there thinking the kit bag would come with me but it followed on three months later and the oranges were well ripe by that time [laughs] they were putrid, and we were allowed to wear civilian clothes in South Africa, provided we wore our service cap, we could buy bush shirts and nice clothing in the gents’ outfitters, so if we took our caps off we looked like civilians, and that was good quality stuff and when that eventually arrived in Italy we were very pleased because we’d been dressed like scarecrows up until then with all sorts, I had a brown battle dress, it wasn’t khaki it was brown, a sort of teddy bear material, I don’t know what air force or army that was from, maybe Greek or something, and it was a bit big for me so I could wear two battle dress blouses, two pairs of trousers, two shirts, two vests and three pullovers, because sometimes it was twenty below in the air and then I’d wear my flying suit, going to the toilet to urinate was a bit difficult because I had so many clothes on, I couldn’t stretch my penis long enough in the cold air to have a pee in the pee tube, which was on the side of the fuselage with a tube leading out of the aircraft but usually they were blocked up with cigarette ends [laughs]. The Americans had had ashtrays in their Liberators, they smoked in the air, smoked cigars in fact but the RAF took the ash trays out so of course we smoked in the air, nobody knew and I would smoke twenty cigarettes during a trip and now and again I’d feel like another cigarette but I’d already got one alight and then I’d think, ‘what did I do with the last cigarette end, did I stamp on it? did I drop it?’ and I’d switch a torch on which had a bit of brown paper over the glass, inside the glass because that was regulation and try and find the cigarette end on the floor somewhere and, once we took a fitter with us to another airfield and he nearly had a fit when he saw me light a cigarette because you are not allowed to smoke within so many yards of an aircraft but it was alright, it was, smoking was less of a hazard than the flak, we were carrying a ten thousand pounds of bombs and thousands of gallons of fuel, petrol and oil and pyrotechnics, photo flashes, incendiary bombs so –
CB: A cigarette was the least of your problems –
JA: A cigarette was minor.
CB: What did you make of the Liberator as a plane?
JA: Well when I flew it, because I could fly it when the automatic pilot backed and the skipper said to me ‘you can take over if you like’, it was like, it was like steering the Queen Mary, if you wanted to change course you had a wheel instead of a joystick and you’d turn the wheel and wait and nothing happens for a few seconds and then suddenly it moves, and if you don’t turn the wheel back quick enough its gone too far, so it’s too sluggish and, of course my instrument flying, I only took over at night, my instrument flying wasn’t good enough, most of my instrument flying was in the link trainer under the hood, and instrument flying was tedious and I could only stand about half an hour at a time, then I was glad when the skipper came back and took over, we were all sergeants, we liked that, because it was awkward sometimes when there was officers in the crew, in one crew the tail gunner was an officer well that seemed silly because a sergeant in that crew was a skipper and he was in charge in the air but he had to salute the tail gunner on the ground, well he should have done if they hadn’t abandoned saluting, but there was so many American officers because all of their bomb aimers or bombardiers were commissioned and the navigators and the pilots, so they always, when they talked to me they always addressed me as lieutenant because they thought I must be an officer being a bomb aimer, bombardier, and I would say ‘no we’re not one, we’re sergeants’, but you see we didn’t wear rank badges because we hadn’t got any, when we qualified at flying school, they didn’t give us any sergeant strips and when we got to the squadron nobody was wearing any rank and the commanding officer said ‘you should wear rank badges’, we said ‘we haven’t got any’ he said ‘chalk them on’, chalk them on, well that seemed so silly we didn’t bother, we said ‘we can get some from the Americans’ he said ‘you’re not allowed to wear those’, so we didn’t wear anything.
CB: Did you get on well with the Americans?
JA: Yes, oh yeah they were lovely fellows, we went to a, about twenty miles away to Foggia, was a ruined town, it had been bombed by the Germans, the Italians, the British and the Americans so there wasn’t much left of it, but there was a bath house where they had shower baths, and when we had a day off we’d hitch a ride on a lorry, lorries were conveying chalk from the quarries and we’d hitch a ride on the back of a lorry carrying limestone, and then we’d get very dusty on there, the drivers were all American Negroes and they’d say ‘where you going, down town Foggia?’ and we’d say ‘yes’, ‘get aboard’, so we’d climb up on the limestone and go to the bathhouse which was a small with half a dozen cubicles which were meant for one or two people but there were always four or six people pushing in trying to get wet, under the water, and we’d be sitting there waiting to go in with our towels and our soap, all naked, and soon as someone came out we’d push our way in and try and get some water, and after the war I was invited by the Hungarian government to go, go to a meeting in Budapest, they’d invited all available flyers of every air force that was active over Hungary during the war, well Hungary was allied with Germany and I’d bombed Hungary but the Hungarian air force was very kind to us, they took us flying, you know in their aeroplanes and there were five Americans standing there, there were only two of us they could find from England, but I said to one of the Americans ‘do you remember the shower baths in Foggia?’ he said ‘yeah I must have seen you there’ but he said ‘I didn’t recognise you there with your clothes on’[laughing].
CB: So let’s turn to your missions, your operations, what were you involved in while you were there on your long range bomber?
JA: Well we could put most eighty aircraft in the air, RAF, Liberators and Wellingtons but the Americans could put up six hundred, or nearly a thousand, they flew during the day, we flew to the same time at night and of course we had the same opposition say for sixty planes as they had when they flew six hundred so our casualties were much higher than Americans but I liked the Americans, we got on well with them, they had a camp in a field not far from us and we went to visit them once, to compare their facilities with ours and they had tents with wooden floors and wooden walls and they had stoves, we had nothing like that, we didn’t have running water, they did, they had electric light, we didn’t, they had decent food, we didn’t, they had flak jackets to protect them when they were flying, we didn’t, they had an ice cream plant for making ice cream and when the weather was very hot, they used to take the ice cream up to about fifteen thousand feet to freeze it and they had a cinema on their site, we didn’t, so we felt really rather ashamed of our conditions compared with theirs ‘cause they didn’t know how bad ours were –
CB: I’m surprised there wasn’t mutiny but I suppose –
JA: Well we had some desertions, we didn’t, we felt mutinous but we didn’t actually mutiny, and our attitude was we want to get this bloody war over and beat the Germans, and get home, but after forty operations we should have six months instructing or some other job and then come back and do another forty so not many people getting through the first forty and by the time we’d done twenty we knew we wouldn’t survive, we were the most senior crew on the squadron, we lost the flight commander and all the senior people off the squadron and when people much more experienced than us were failing to come back, we thought ‘we haven’t got much chance’, and so we reconciled ourselves to the fact that we will die but everybody’s got to die sooner or later and we thought ‘we are gonna die now instead of when we are ninety-nine’ so that cheered us up the fact that everybody has got to go sooner or later anyway but what did worry us, is the thought that we’d be severely wounded and blinded and badly burned, that sort of thing and having to live with that from the age of twenty for the rest of our lives, we didn’t like that, we had been stationed in Torquey as raw recruits, and there was a hospital there for burned air crews, air crews that had had their faces burned off and they were disgusting to look at, and horrifying, and we didn’t want that to happen to us, it was very demoralising and it was happening to other men, it never happened to us, you know, we couldn’t understand how we keep getting away with it, the plane was hit, engines were knocked out, we were landing on one wheel and two engines and all sorts of things like that, but none of us were hit yet and we went on to, the skipper had done one air experience trip, before we started operating, so he was one ahead of us he’d flown with another crew for experience, we didn’t like that ‘cause we thought ‘if he gets bumped off we’ll have a strange pilot’, and anyway we went on, watching other people dropping like flies until our, until my, my thirty-seventh trip, and I was bombing German troops in Serbia, they were evacuating from Greece and the Greek islands, back through Yugoslavia, back to the home land, to defend Germany, and we were stopping them, and no matter how much we bombed them they never really took to it and they hit me, filled me full of shrapnel.
CB: Before we get to that Jim, your first operation I believe were against oil plants in Bucharest, is that right?
JA: The first one was an oil refinery in Fiume, that was an Italian port which is now Rijeka which Fiume and Rijeka mean river, and it’s now Yugoslav, Croatia now, and I know that oil refinery well, and I know a woman who used to go to school across the bay when I was bombing that oil refinery and I thought what a terrible thing it was she lived nearby and when I went past on the bus sometimes after the war and I thought I could’ve killed her and I would’ve hated to kill her she was such a nice person and, after the war I knew a lot of Germans, the German airmen, pilots, ‘cause I speak fluent German and they always thought I was German, they used to say ‘but your father’s German?’, and ‘no, no he’s English’, well your mother is German ‘no no’, ‘well where did you learn English?’, I was the head of the German department of import export firm for years and I had to learn German at school anyway, and I had a private tutors for languages after the war and, I even spoke Italian during the war, fifteen years after the war I opened an office in Milan, and I put a man there who was a Venetian, rather posh Italian, superior you know, and I said ‘hey Franco, have you changed the language?’ and he said ‘why?’ I said ‘well during the war we used to speak differently’ and he said ‘no we haven’t changed anything’ well he said ‘after Mussolini, we didn’t call people voy we said lay’ and I said ‘no it’s not that’ I said, I only speak these days when I’m on my monthly trip to Italy, to supervise the office, I only speak to bus conductors and waiters and people like that but they speak differently to the way I spoke, so I started talking to him in Italian and he said ‘for God’s sake don’t talk to the directors of Fiat, what you speak is Neapolitan dialect’, well I didn’t know that and I thought well if it was good enough for the girls in Sorrento, it’ll have to be good enough for the rest of the Italians, he said ‘you speak like those little black fellas down in the south’, ‘cause you know there was snobbishness between the north and the south but I liked the southern Italians, they were all nice jolly people you know, I’ve even got some distant relatives that are Italian, my, my grandmother’s sister married an Italian during the first war when the Italians were on our side, and they settled in England and had a multitude of children and I knew them all.
CB: So the operations, some of which were in Ploiesti in Romania, and they had a fearful reputation.
JA: It was the most heavily defended target in the world.
CB: You were bombing these oil plants, especially the one at Ploiesti at night obviously?
JA: Yes, yes it had tremendous defences you know, because it was the oil that was vital, what really finished the war was lack of petrol, they got, they’d run out of fuel for the tanks and the aircraft so all the war we should have only really been concentrating on oil refineries, oil fields.
CB: So the operation in October to do gardening or mine laying as it was properly known, mine laying in the Danube of which you reported was the most frightening episode that you’d ever been.
JA: Well the first time that we dropped mines in the Danube, we’d been told they are secret and you must make sure you drop them in the main stream, the Germans must not get the secret of the mines, they lie dormant for three weeks and they don’t go off until the second ship passes over them, so they are virtually un-sweep able, the Germans used to fly over them with special aircraft with a big magnetic ring on it to try and explode them, they’d gun barges adrift to go over them and nothing, they couldn’t sweep them and, within a few months we’d stopped a hundred percent shipping on the Danube, which was conveying oil from Ploiesti back to the German forces, so it was a very important thing and the fighter defences were enormous, we’d seen planes shot down every few minutes and that was a bit frightening, I used to think ‘I hope there’s not somebody I know in it’, because a plane would fly along beside us for seconds, it seemed like ages, on fire, and slowly descend in a curve and explode on the ground, and we were told, ‘don’t be distracted by crashes’ but you can’t stop looking at them, wondering ‘whose that?’ and thinking ‘why don’t they get out, don’t see any parachutes’, what we didn’t know was that the Germans had upward firing guns, and they’d creep underneath the plane in the dark and fire into the belly of the plane and nobody would see them, so the gunners didn’t open fire and wondered ‘why didn’t the gunners open fire on that?’, nobody told us about it, this was the secret.
CB: No, they were doing this to Liberators? They were certainly doing it to Lancasters weren’t they, they were doing this to Liberators as well?
JA: Yeah and you see we had no ball turret underneath, the RAF took out that bull turret, we hadn’t got a gunner for it anyway and then we had a gun turret in the nose but they took all the guts out of that, to decrease the weight, so we had no guns in the front turret, we had no gun underneath that could’ve seen these upward firing guns and we didn’t carry a lot of ammunition, mining the Danube we would use all our ammunition, immediately I’d drop the bombs, I would rush back to the beam position where I’d got two machine guns, one on either side, there was no gunner for those so in the event of an attack I would use those or when we were mining the Danube, I’d drop the mines, rush back there and use those guns to strafe the shipping on the water or any insulations on the banks, the banks were two hundred feet high, and the Germans used to stretch cables from bank to bank so we had to fly below two hundred feet so we normally went to a hundred feet in the dark above the water, and then we thought we’d be safe, except there was flak barges with barrow balloons and we couldn’t see the cables from those because the barrage ruins were too high up above us and you can’t see a cable in the dark, we were going too fast anyway and, I remember one time there was a man on a barge firing at me with an automatic rifle and I gave him a quick skirt, squirt from the machine gun as I went by, I would’ve like to have met him after the war if you lived to discuss that, you know I didn’t mean it really you know, I’d say ‘I’ve got nothing against you personally’.
CB: But if you’re going to fire at me, I’m firing at you, what was your bomb load on something like this?
JA: Ten thousand pounds, you see we couldn’t carry a big bomb like the Lancaster because we’d got the cat walk going down the centre of the plane, so the bombs had to be hung in rows one above the other on either side of the cat walk, so the biggest bomb we could carry was a thousand pounds, so we carried ten of those, ten thousand pounds, which is plenty anyway and we’d carry pyrotechnics, lots of incendiaries as well.
CB: And what was your job if there was a hang up, and the bomb hadn’t been released?
JA: I had to go along the cat walk, in the dark, with no parachute, and no oxygen, and holding onto the railings in the roof and skidding about on the ten inch wide cat walk, with the, the slipstream would take away my weight so I had a job to keep on my feet and when I got to the bomb which was usually the one right to the back, I would stand on the cat walk with one leg and kick it and it would never fall off, so I had to swing then holding onto the hydraulic pipes, which were not meant to be swung from they are only about an inch diameter, I’d hold them with two hands, my wrists would go like jelly, you know, I’d swing and kick with both feet and when the bomb eventually fell off it was like my stomach went off with it, ‘cause there was always lights twinkling on the ground and thousands of feet below, and one slip and I’m off to the ground you know, seconds to live, that was terrifying. The only other terrifying thing was throwing grenades when I went on an infantry tactics course during training and, swinging propellers, on tiger moths, on a wet windy and muddy day, I thought I’ll swing in to the propeller and get my head cut off, but when I was in South Africa a chap did walk into a propeller, a navigator, and it threw his head over the hangar, so propellers were a danger, you couldn’t see them rotating, they were invisible.
CB: So now you were also involved in what was known as the Warsaw uprising or the support of that, that’s right isn’t it Jim?
JA: Yes but to go back to the mining of the Danube, the first time we mined the Danube, I said to the skipper ‘we’re too low, we’re much too low’ and he said ‘we’re at a hundred feet’ and I thought ‘we’re bloody not’, I could tell by the droplets of water we’re not at a hundred feet, when we got back to base the compass was, the radio compass was checked and we’d been at thirty feet in the dark, if we’d touched the water we’d have been gone, so that, it was terrifying yet there was no, there was no pay off, if you dropped the bombs you’d see the explosions and things, you’ve done something but you dropped mines that are not going to go off for three weeks or more then there’s no, the stress is there, there’s no release from the stress except machine gunning like mad, and then of course on the way back you would get attacked by fighters so then I was stay by the beam guns or as the Americans call them the waist guns, and that was quite exciting really firing those, but the reflector sides illuminated, were too bright, they were meant to be used during the day and I couldn’t see through them at night so I switched them off and I fired watching where the trace goes ‘cause every fifth bullet it was a tracer, so I fired a gun like squirting a hose, and they’d burn out about I don’t know whether it was six hundred yards but up to that time I could see where they were going, firing like watering the garden it was, with a hose pipe [laughing] anyway you were asking me about?
CB: Supporting the Warsaw uprising, dropping the supplies?
JA: Yeah, I’d bombed a place in Hungary, we were pretty tired, it was the second of two nights we’d been in the air, and we eventually got back in the tent to go to bed and within three hours a runner, a runner arrived from the orderly room and he said ‘you’ve got to report for briefing’, we’ve only been in the tent for three hours and we were told you’re going on a secret operation, fly down to Brindisi, we didn’t know what it was all about, and in Brindisi we went into a hut and there was a big map on the end wall and it showed a tape going from Brindisi to Warsaw, we thought well it’s nothing to do with us, the Poles are on our side we’re not going to bomb Warsaw, but then we were briefed and told we’re not going to bomb, we’re going to drop supplies of explosives and ammunition and guns for the underground resistance fighters who were fighting in the city against the Germans and, they were expecting the Russians to arrive any minute so on the 1st of August they’d started to fight, and they were doing well for a few days, and the Russians stopped their advance so the Poles were on their own so they appealed for help, apparently Winston Churchill was in Italy checking the arrangements for the south of France invasion which was imminent and he said, ‘we must help the Poles, we went to join the war on their account, we can’t stand idly by’, our air officer commander told us this later and, so he said we should go with the special duty squadrons, there was an Polish squadron and an RAF squadron dropping supplies but they’d lost so many men so they couldn’t continue so three liberator bomber squadrons were called in to do the supply dropping, they said ‘you must, you must drop from below six hundred feet and the poles said ‘two hundred, otherwise the parachute containers will drift away’ and they said ‘we’ve been there, it’s safer at a hundred feet because then the Germans can’t bring the guns to there because at a hundred feet you’ve come and gone quickly’, but they said ‘there’s one building still standing and that’s sixty meters high, so don’t fly into that in the middle of the night’, when we got to Warsaw, the whole city was on fire, gun fire and everything was burning and we’d been told a particular street and squares where we were to drop the supplies but nothing was recognisable so I remembered them saying, Zoliborz, a district of Warsaw is still in the hands of the insurgents, well that was a few days ago and I thought there doesn’t seem to be any fires, or no fighting going on as far as I could see, we fly around for fifty minutes and planes were getting shot down all around us and I’d eventually counting the bridges, I knew where Zoliborz was, I dropped the supplies there and I said to the wireless operator, ‘we must be bloody mad you know flying around fifty minutes’ and he said ‘well we’re not going all that way to drop them in the wrong bloody place’, I thought we’re all crazy, the psychiatrist reported that we were crazy, in their official reports, which I read after the war, ‘they must be crazy and they all think it won’t happen to them’, it’s insulting, we knew it was going to happen to us sooner or later, why shouldn’t it happen to us, it did happen to me in the end, fortunately it wasn’t quite fatal [laughing] .
CB: Glad to hear it, so that was your philosophy really to imagine that you had been killed already basically?
JA: Well we knew that we would die eventually anyway, so it’s like people ask you ‘when did you have your holidays?’, when you’ve had it, doesn’t matter if it was June or September, its gone, so doesn’t matter when you die really, if you’ve got to die anyway what’s the date matter, we had to tell ourselves that sort of thing, but we had superstitions, we had lots of superstitions, my friend Deakey (?) the navigator, he had a lucky shirt and he couldn’t fly without his lucky shirt and if it was dirty he had to wash and dry it quickly ready for flying that night, we only fly once without his lucky shirt and we got lost, and that was on the way back from Warsaw, we went twice to Warsaw and each night we lost thirty percent and by the third night we’d lost ninety percent, ninety, the air force pretended it was seventeen percent but everybody knows it was ninety percent and there are plenty of documents saying it was ninety percent and our air officer commanding Sir John Slessor wrote a book in which he [said] the time of the Warsaw uprising was the worst time of his career and he mentioned it was ninety percent but after the war, Stalin had to be appeased so we didn’t want to tell, didn’t want to emphasize anything we did that he didn’t agree with, ‘cause Stalin was anti-Poles and he’d stopped his army to allow the Germans to polish off Warsaw, and Hitler said eradicate Warsaw, it was to be razed to the ground and he gave an order ‘all inhabitants to be killed’ and the new German commander who wrote a book after the war, he said ‘you don’t mean women and children?’ and he was told ‘yes’ [emphasis], the whole population is to be killed, that’s what was going on when we were flying over there, and we were told ‘if you get shot down near the Russian lines, they will shoot you, especially if you are dressed in blue’, well of course we were dressed in blue we were in the Air Force, so it was a bit late to tell us that now and, while we were flying to Warsaw we were being shot at by the Russians and the Germans because they didn’t agree with us helping the Poles, the Poles got a medal, the Germans got a special badge, the Russians got a medal, I’ve got one of them as a souvenir, and we got nothing, we got no recognition.
CB: Andy your pilot comes over as very calm.
JA: Yes, he was very determined, he was very stubborn and of course he was the skipper, he was in charge but I always felt that I was in charge you see and when we were lost on the way back from Warsaw, Deakey the navigator called me up and said ‘Jimmy can I have a word with you’, well I thought there’s something wrong and I just asked him a little while ago, ‘do you want a pinpoint?’ ‘cause I would navigate by map reading all the way there and back you see, but I hadn’t bothered because he, I said ‘do you want a pinpoint?’ and he said ‘no, no I’m alright’ now he says ‘can I have a word with you?’, so I scrambled up the front to the nose compartment and the tears were dripping off his chin and he said ‘I don’t know what country we’re over’, I said ‘give me the typographical maps, I’m shit hot at map reading, I could tell you in a few seconds where you are’ and I said ‘we’ve got no maps for this place whatever it is’, when we should be over the sea, we’re over land and when we should be over land we were over the sea of course we were over the Greek islands, they’re all messy you know, the little bits and we’ve got no map for that place and I didn’t know until after the way why we hadn’t got a map, the reason was he’d got diarrhoea and he’d used the map because there wasn’t any toilet in plane, and he wrapped it up and chucked it out down the flare shoot, that’s where the map was the Germans had got it, bit messy, and the plane had been on fire, the wireless operator had the wireless set in pieces and he was in his element putting it together, you know mending it, he was busy and I, went up the front to have a chat to the skipper with Andy, and I said to the flight engineer, he pushed past me to look at the fuel gauges, they were like a gauge on an oil tank, like a domestic oil tank, visual gauge with a bubble in tubes, I said ‘how we’re doing?’ he said ‘empty’, I said ‘we can’t be empty we’re still flying’ he said ‘yeah but I don’t know how long for’, we’re flying over aerodromes with German planes with black crosses on, they’re freight planes but we daren’t try and land there otherwise the you know the ground defences open up on us, so I said to Andy ‘we’re heading to the mountains’ and I said to him ‘land on this road’ I said ‘these strong, straight roads’ I said ‘we’re just flying over one now, look you can land here, that’s what I would do if I were you’ and he said ‘I think we’ll press on’, I thought ‘you’re mad, press on, [emphasis] we’re flying into the mountains and we’re out of fuel, and in any minute all the engines are going to cut out’, anyway he was right and we did press on and we got eventually over the sea and the radio operator had got the wireless together again and he always used to stand up and point when he was listening on the radio and he started waving his arms about and pointing and he said its Brindisi and we were facing the runway, we running up to Brindisi and we went straight in, if there had been anybody in the way we couldn’t have done round the circuit because when we got to the end of the runway the, all engines cut out, out of fuel, so we told the duty pilot where we were and that we were out of fuel, so they put some fuel in and flew back to Amendola near Foggia, of course we’d been gone so long we couldn’t still be in the air, our trip was eleven hours and forty minutes plus over an hour going to Brindisi over an hour coming back so we were so tired, I’d already dropped off to sleep for the last half an hour and when the plane landed I was still asleep and the ground crew got in and stirred me with a foot to wake me up, I was just dead tired, I’d been in the air longer than I’d been on the ground for about three days and no sleep at all you know (tired, hungry?) yeah but we were always hungry.
CB: And then you’d have to have the debriefing?
JA: Yes, that didn’t take long because we were always a bit impatient at debriefing, we’d answer questions, we didn’t volunteer any information and always something had gone wrong with the plane, like the guns didn’t fire, the oxygen cylinders were empty, all sorts of things, one engine cut out, two engines cut out and the ground crew would run out to us soon as we landed and they’d shout ‘any snags, any snags?’ and we’d swear and shout and say ‘this went wrong and that went wrong’ using lots of ‘f’ words but then we’d never report the snags, because we relied on those lads and it wasn’t their fault, the planes were clapped out anyway and they’d work through the night perhaps maintenance and they couldn’t get spares and some of the things they did were, were fatal, and they couldn’t help it, one of them said to me, ‘I don’t get very close to the air crews, I don’t make friends with them because’ he said ‘if a plane goes missing I’d wonder if I did something wrong or whether I’d forgot to do something’ and he said ‘I’ve been on a squadron a long time and lots of planes have gone missing and I always feel it might be my fault’ so he said ‘I don’t like to get friendly with air crews’, I can understand that, when I used to go to the, we weren’t allowed to take anything with us like a bus ticket or money or anything like that, and so I had a little wallet and I used to hand it to the sergeant fitter, ground crew fitter and I’d say ‘take that Jake and if I don’t come back you can keep it’, and he’d take it but he didn’t like touching it really and when I got back he’d shove it at me as soon as he could ‘cause he didn’t want anything to do with dead men’s property and I can understand that you know, he was squeamish and when I got wounded he was the chap who lifted me up and carried me out of the plane.
CB: So what happened on that your final operation obviously, what was it the thirty-seventh out of forty?
JA: Yes
CB: And what happened Jim?
JA: When we were told the target would be undefended, and for the first time ever you can bomb anywhere in the town, it’s just full of Germans, so I dropped a stick of bombs at predetermined intervals, and I hit about two or three blocks of flats right in the middle, the next one between two blocks of flats, the next one a road and rail junction, and then I said to the skipper, ‘hold this course for half a minute because we’re going into mountains now’, and we were low you see because the visibility you had to come down very low, ‘cause of the cloud, and just as I said that the tail gunner said ‘it’s flak, it’s stern’ and WOOF [emphasis to express being hit], and it’s a sensation like if you’re playing football and the football is wet and heavy and somebody kicks it and it hits you straight in the face, it’s a numb sensation at first and then comes the pain, well this was like a puff of wind, like being hit with something but no pain what so ever and then floods of blood, I seemed to be bleeding to death, and I felt for my parachute pack because I thought we were getting shot down but I was the only one hit actually, we were hit in one engine and me and the navigator wrote in his diary; ‘Jim’s eyeball is hanging out on his cheek’ [laughs] actually it wasn’t, I’d got a lump of Perspex because all the Perspex had become shrapnel, and there was a piece about four inches long stuck in my eyeball and of course all the blood was running down my face because I was hit in the head and the face and everywhere and the blood running down this Perspex made it look as though my eye was hanging out you see so he couldn’t look at me, so he tapped me on the head and I could see he was talking, we had throat microphones, American throat microphones, it were very efficient and he was telling the crew I’d been hit, I crawled under the flight deck and when I stood up in the well, the back of the flight deck, the wireless operator had got all the first aid kits open and he wanted to put one on my face but he was hesitant to do it and I thought ‘do it, do it’, but of course there was this four inch long piece of shrapnel stuck in my eye, and it wasn’t until it fell out that he could put bandages on and then he bandaged everything that was bloody including my right arm which was badly damaged and my left arm which I’d used to investigate my other wounds and that wasn’t damaged but it was very bloody so he bandaged that as well, he bandaged everything and then he said ‘I’ll give you a shot of morphine’, I said ‘I’m not in pain’, I had no pain what so ever and that frightened me because I thought, if you get your legs chopped off you don’t feel any pain, because the body reacts as though you get shock but you don’t feel pain and I thought I’m dying, I must be dying and I said ‘I’m not in any pain I don’t need morphine’ and he got some out the first aid thing and I’d got my eyes shut and he stuck the thing in my arm and the morphine came like a marble, raised up, it didn’t disperse and when we landed he said to the ground crew ‘I’ve tied a label on him saying I gave him morphine at twelve o’clock, but I know now that I shouldn’t do that because he’s got a head wound’ and ‘oh Christ he’s killed me instead of the Germans’ [laughing].
But anyway, all we did all the time was sing and tell jokes, and it was like a rugby club –
CB: In the military hospital?
JA: No on the squadron, we weren’t morose and we weren’t miserable, in fact everything was hilarious and because we had to keep flying it didn’t matter what we did, hooliganism didn’t matter, drunkenness, it didn’t matter, because we were either up in the air or we had a group stand down when we’d have two of three days off due to so many casualties, waiting for new crews and new aeroplanes, and we’d get drunk and forget everything you see, and if, if unexpectedly we had to fly after a night a free night in the mess and drunkenness, we’d have a headache like you’ve never experienced and I went to the medical officers little cubby hole and there was a youth leaning up the doorpost and I pushed past him and I was opening boxes and things looking for an aspirin and I said to this fella, ‘do you know where they keep the aspirins?’ and he said ‘yeah’ and he told me and I said ‘you know your way around?’ and he said ‘yeah I’m the medical officer’ [laughs]
CB: So you found yourself in this hospital?
JA: Yeah when, after we landed, I was put on a stretcher, propped up in a sitting position on some blankets, some blankets behind me and it seemed to take ages and the flight engineer said ‘what’s the bloody delay? Get him to hospital’ and they said ‘we’re checking the first aid kits’ which all had been opened and used and they said ‘there’s a pair of scissors missing’ and that’s why they were delaying and he said ‘if you don’t get him to hospital right away I’m gonna bloody do the lot of ya’, and he was a tough Shetlander and that made them pull their socks up, and they put me in the ambulance to go seven miles, no twenty miles into Foggia to the general hospital, military hospital, and the skipper said ‘I’ll come with you’, well he shouldn’t have, he should’ve gone back to be debriefed but I was glad he came with me, ‘cause I didn’t know what I looked like, I didn’t know if my ear had been chopped off or whether I’d got a complete nose ‘cause I knew a piece of shrapnel had creased the top of my nose and the bottom, I didn’t know how bad things were and he said I can show you and he and he got a little stainless steel or chrome mirror in his pocket and he showed me but that’s very distorting and I thought ‘bloody hell look at that’, and I heard the nurses talking and they were talking as though I was already dead and one of them said ‘he must have been a good looking boy’, he must have been? [emphasis] I’m still here, you know, and they stripped me, cut all me clothes off and I felt a bit embarrassed because I’d borrowed a pair of long johns from the tail gunner and I was stripped down to my long johns and I felt that was a bit embarrassing because long johns were a bit silly aren’t they, and then the skipper went back then but he had to hitch hike back and he was in his flying kit you know, and when he got back he got a bollock-ing ‘cause he should have gone straight back not gone to the hospital with me, and anyway he got over that and they decided as he’d done one more trip than me anyway and they couldn’t manage without me and they hadn’t got anyone to replace me, the crew could stop now and go for a rest period, and after a few days they did go, and so there I was in hospital four and a half hours, and a chap from the squadron had sprained his wrist or something and he called at the hospital, to see the medical officer at the hospital and he said, the medical officer said ‘we’ve got a chap from your squadron in here’ and he said ‘oh I’d like to go and see him’ and he said ‘no you better not he’s just recovering from four and a half hours on the operating table so you won’t be able to talk to him yet’, and I came round and it was evening but I couldn’t see and I was bound up like an invisible man, just all bandages and I could see a white apparition by the bed and I thought ‘I’m alive’, surprisingly and I muttered, [clears throat] ‘could you tell me if they’ve taken my ear off?’ and this thing said ‘what are you here for?’, and I said ‘I’ve been wounded’, and she said ‘well you’re have to wait until the day staff comes on, I don’t know anything about you’ so I had to wait the rest of the night to find out whether I’d got a nose and whether I had only got one ear and that worried my because in the day of short haircuts I thought I’d look a fool with only one ear [slight laugh] isn’t that silly and, of course I was blind in one eye and the, every hour they dropped penicillin in my eye, it was icy cold, they said ‘you’re lucky, you’re being treated with this new penicillin, new’, I’d never even heard of it and I said ‘can you warm it up, it’s cold’ they said ‘we keep it in the refrigerator’ [slight laugh], anyway, after a few days I was totally blind because my left, my left eye had been alright, well reasonable but then I was totally blind in both eyes and I heard them muttering about cross infection in the ward and I had to lie flat on my back for a month, thirty days I wasn’t allowed to sit up or move due to the eye treatment, they said ‘we’ve healed eyes before but usually they get an infection in the end and we have to remove them’ and I thought well if I can’t see with it it doesn’t matter, I might look alright with an eye patch, a talking point and they transferred me to another ward, they lifted me up flat, put me on a stretcher, wheeled me away, and all the others in the ward had thought I’d died and I said well nobody talked to me anyway, they said, ‘well when your eyes were bound up we didn’t know whether you were awake or asleep’, well I didn’t know what time it was or what date it was or anything and I used to doze off and come back to consciousness again all the time and I never knew whether it was morning or afternoon or evening and I used to listen to what was going on, are these night time sounds or day time sounds, very difficult to tell. Anyway I then after a while when I’d recovered a bit I had more operations on my eye under local anaesthetic, terribly painful, they picked out bits of steel, bits of Perspex and a piece of wood and the chap said to me, ‘what wood was there in the air craft?’ I said ‘well it was made of aluminium’ he said ‘well you’ve got a piece of wood in your eye, a tiny piece’, then I remembered, there was an air blower near the bomb airmen’s position and it would blow in my face so I used to put map over it and stand the astro compass box up against it and it was made of wood and of course that had been shattered and a piece of wood obviously went in my eye, and when they cut my clothes off in the hospital I’d got three pullovers on, lots of clothes you know, multiples of everything and two of the pullovers were air force issue but one I’d brought at Marks and Spencer’s before I joined up and I thought ‘steady on that’s my pullover they cut in half’ you know and that watch that got took off I brought that you know, got no compensation, but anyway it was terrible in the hospital because nobody had any time for me, I don’t know whether they were opposed to the bomber offensive or what it was.
CB: So what nationality were they, the nursing staff?
JA: British, in that hospital they were British, in a second hospital they had Italian nurses that was a bit better but the British nurses were quite cruel really and, except for one, she used to be on night duty and she’d come and sit on the bed and talk to me at night and bring me a cup of tea, I think she fancied me [laughing] and anyway when I could stand up, because I felt very dizzy, it was very difficult to stand up after being about six weeks in bed and I’d only got blood stained clothes on, ‘cause one battle dress was though the rats had eaten it, it just fell open, as I’d got more than one battle dress on, one of them weren’t too bad and, but it was all blood stained and my flying boots were all caped with blood and I felt stupid you know I wanted to have proper clothes, and I felt very truculent and resentful, and the nurse came round and she said ‘lie to attention’ [emphasis] and I said ‘what does that mean?’, she said ‘both arms above the sheets down by your sides, feet together, head straight’, [coughs] I said ‘I can’t do it’, can we wait a minute [pauses] and then got it up gradually from twenty to eighty percent.
CB: So you’re still in the hospital, how long were you in the hospital?
JA: Three months and I was transferred then to a place called Torre del Greco to another hospital, and we’d got Italian nurses there, very pretty, black hair and uniforms, white dresses with a red cross on their chest and their English was a bit faulty and they’d come round every day and ask me ‘lavatory?’ [puts on an accent] and I’d say ‘what’s that?’, ‘lavatory?’ [in accent again], that’s all they could say and I’d say ‘I don’t understand’, and then they’d write something down and go away and I was there for a month and then I was discharged and told you’re on twenty four hour stand by to go back to England wounded, never happened, after a few weeks, they put red crosses on my kit bags and loaded them on board a ship, I had a two week visit, sorry a two week voyage back to England through the, past Gibraltar, through the Bay of Biscay, submarine alert all the time, no beds no chairs and I sat on a form leaning on a table for two weeks.
CB: Still of course not a hundred percent?
JA: No I was ill, very ill and every now and then submarine alert and I’d got to scramble up on deck in a life vest and over coat and have to stand there in the drizzle and rain until the submarine alert was over, and I wasn’t treated as an invalid at all, I was just with the other troops, nobody had a bed, nobody had a chair, if some of them if they were lucky they could climb on the table and sleep on the table but I couldn’t get on the table so I had to sit on the form and lean forward on the table all night, and we put into Liverpool and we spent twenty four hours in the docks while the customs went thoroughly through the ship examining everything, I thought some people have been abroad for several years, what the hell are they looking for? and we’re all British anyway, and then I got off the boat and I had to carry two kit bags with the red crosses on, all to the station put them on the train unaided, I thought ‘what they hell are the red crosses for?’, and I reported to the Air Ministry with me two kit bags and they said ‘you’ve been sent back because they haven’t got the right facilities for treating you in Italy’, so I expected to go back into hospital again but they gave me five weeks leave, didn’t give me any money, they didn’t ask me where will you go on your five weeks leave but they said ‘every week report here again’, well my, fortunately my father was at an Air Ministry unit at Harrow and my parents lived in Hillingdon on the outskirts of London, so I could live with them, the morning after I arrived there, in my funny garb of odds and sods and I hadn’t got a proper uniform, I heard the first time of Doodlebug what we called pilotless planes (B1) I had heard about them, didn’t realise they were so noisy, I knew when the motor cut out they’d come down and one came over and the motor stopped and I said to my mother ‘what do you do?’ she said ‘don’t do anything’ and she went outside to peg some washing on the line and it just dropped at Greenford, which was not very far away from [pauses] not very far away from where we were living and then the rockets came and they were terrifying, the V2s, the rockets, because you’d hear terrible explosion and then hear them coming and in the newspapers and on the radio it was saying ‘gas mains exploding all over London’, well that was a lie, my father knew what they were and he was told ‘don’t evacuate your family as it will cause panic’ so he had to stay there, couldn’t tell his family the danger, it was quite silly during the war because when the Germans bombed a town we weren’t allowed to know which town it was, on the radio it would say ‘bombs were dropped at random’ and we thought ‘Random must be totally destroyed by now because its bombed every night’ [laughs], anyway my father said ‘haven’t you got a proper uniform’, I’d got this brown battle dress which I wore with a blue shirt and a black tie and a hat that had collapsed with a badge I had brought in a bazaar in Egypt which wasn’t a regulation badge, an air force badge it was sort of a souvenir thing bought in a bazaar ‘cause someone had stolen my badge and, he sized me up and brought me a tunic anyway but I was wearing a flying badge and strips on this brown thing and I was hoping people would ask me ‘what the hell are you?’ but nobody ever asked and I was passing military policemen, they should have said ‘excuse me, what air force are you in?’, nobody ever asked because there was so many foreigners in London of different armies and air forces that everybody looked different, anyway I realised I wasn’t, on my weekly visits to the Air Ministry, I wasn’t seen by what I would call proper doctors, I was seeing men in white coats, now psychiatry was in this infantry or psycho analysis and we were prime subjects for it because we were all bloody crackers, you see, so they asked me all sorts of questions, not about my injuries, no medical treatment but things like ‘do you like girls? What sort of girls do you like? Do you dream? What do you dream about?’ so I made things up, course the chap was writing things all down in long hand, ‘what sort of girls do you like?’ I said ‘girls with red hair’, well I had only known one girl with red hair, I nearly said to him girls who do or girls who say yes [laughing] but ‘what do you dream about’ so I made it up a dream and told him and it would amuse me to see him scribbling it all down, no medical treatment what so ever then I got a telegram, report to Innsworth, and I said to my father who’d worked his way up you see from being a corporal in the first world war to being a squadron leader, acting wing commander and he knew all the ropes, I said to him ‘god I could do with a few more days leave’ and he said ‘well send them a telegram’, I said what will I say?’ he said ‘wedding’, so I thought telegram style is quite ambiguous you see, and instead of saying ‘I request extension of leave for my wedding’ I just said ‘for wedding’, so it could be anybody’s wedding, they said forty eight hours granted and report to Manby in Lincolnshire, well I still hadn’t got proper uniform and everything, just one tunic my father had given me, this funny cap and other odd things you know, and I had to buy everything I needed to make it up, you should have three of everything, three pairs of trousers, three tunics etc. I had to buy it from the stores and a 664B which it the payment on clothing on repayment form, I can remember even the name of the form, form 664B, and I had it stopped out of my pay, so I was looking for a job, nobody knew what I was there for, there were people on a course, officers training courses and I said, they said ‘are you an instructor’ I said ‘I don’t know, can I look at your books?’ they showed me the books and I said ‘no I don’t know any of this stuff, it’s all up to date, you know I don’t know it so I can’t be an instructor’, ‘are you a pupil?’ I said ‘no I’m off flying so I can’t be a pupil’, I got pally with the armourist officer and I said ‘I’m sick of just hanging about, three weeks and nothing to do and have you got anything I can do?’ and he said ‘well we need someone to take charge of the low level bombing range but it’s night work’, I said ‘well I’ve got nothing to do during the day or during the night so I might as well be working at night, sleeping in the day’, so he gave me a squad of blokes and WAAFs and I was in charge of bombing range so after another three or four weeks he said ‘guess what, your documents have come through and you are attached to my section anyway, what would you like to do?’, I said ‘well what is there?’, he gave me two or three options and said ‘there’s a detachment on the coast with three bombing ranges, have a ride out there on the ration lorry, see if you like it, you can take charge of one of the ranges’, so I thought well anything to get away from the real air force, get away on a detachment.
CB: Your eyes were alright now were they?
JA: No, no I still couldn’t see out of my right eye, but they said, they introduced peace time regulations and things you see after the war had ended, and they said annual musketry, everybody must attend so I went to the rifle range and I fired off so many rounds and I didn’t get any bullets on the target at all, so they said ‘something must be wrong there, will you do it again?’, well I couldn’t see the target never mind hit it, and I was trying to use my left eye with the rifle on the right side you see and that’s impossible, anyway I was in charge of the bombing range for a year or two and I was sent for by the commanding officer, he was an air commodore and he said ‘air crews are allowed to take trade training’, and I said ‘well I don’t need any because I’ll be demobbed in about six months, demobilised, don’t need any trade training’, I said ‘what is there anyway?’, he said you’re only allowed to take group one or group two trades and I said ‘what are the group one’s and group two’s?’ he said ‘there aren’t any’, I said ‘well what is there then?’ he said ‘well if don’t volunteer for one of these I’ll damn well send you on one’ he said ‘there’s plenty of openings for cooks’, I said ‘oh I’d like to be a cook’, I thought you’re in the warm and you can get plenty to eat if you’re in the cook house, I said ‘I’d like to train as a cook’ and he was furious, he said ‘that’s a group five trade, you’re not allowed to take a low trade’ well I thought well it’d be nice you know in the winter in the cook house [laughing] so he said ‘I’m sending you on a photographic course’, so all the other people, I was in charge of the course of twenty five men because I was a senior man, and the others were people who had joined up to fly but before they could start training the war had finished so they got to go onto ground jobs, and the ones on the course were amateur photographers and they knew everything, well all I knew was you point a camera and press the thing and you send it off to Boots, and when it comes back it’s prints and how they do it I don’t care, but now I had to learn all about it, take photographs of things moving and you know all sorts, people walking, cycling, aeroplanes taking off and all that, I learned quite a bit actually and then I was transferred to Benson, near Oxford and I was put in charge of the photographic section, well I was the most naive photographer in the world because I wasn’t even interested, but I was put in charge and they were doing an air survey of the United Kingdom and Scandinavia, and doing hundreds of feet of film and it was all going through machines and it was all automatic, well I’d never seen such machinery and the photographic officer was always sliding off somewhere and he’d put me in charge and disappear and when he came back he’d say ‘hundreds of yards of film have been ruined’ and ‘how did that happen?’ and he said ‘you didn’t make them clean the film’ well I didn’t know they had to clean the film [slight laugh], so it wasn’t too bad because there was a lot of women there, WAAFs, they were quite jolly and I used to open the section at nine o’clock in the morning and they’d say ‘right we’re go off to breakfast now’ and we’d go down by the river, the Thames and have bacon and eggs and stroll back when we felt like it, and I hadn’t got the faintest idea, some of the people knew what they were doing and some didn’t you see, I didn’t know at all [laughs], so eventually I was demobilised from there and it took place at Uxbridge and I was given a chalk striped suit, like Max Miller I felt, and a hat, I’d never worn a trilby hat and we looked in mirrors in our civilian clothes and laughed like hell because we’d never worn anything like that before and when we come out the demobilisation centre there were chaps hanging around offering you two quid for the box of clothing, I offered them the hat, they didn’t want that, they wanted coats and trousers, ‘cause clothing was rationed you see, and the thing I would have really like to keep was an over coat because they had good overcoats in the air force and I hadn’t worn an overcoat you see, so I went to a market and they were selling second hand clothes which weren’t rationed and I brought a sailor’s overcoat [laughs].
CB: Did you keep in touch with your crew after the war?
JA: Up until the time they died, yes, except the one from the Shetlands who emigrated to New Zealand so we lost touch with him, but the rest of us stayed in touch until they all died, one at a time, not all together but they got heart attacks and cancer and things and I think that was through the stress they had during the war.
CB: You became a very successful international businessman after the war.
JA: I did, yes, I devoted all my time to educating myself, I attended a technical school, it was a commercial and technical school, they had commercial boys who did short hand typing and book keeping and technical boys, I was one, we did metal work and wood work and higher mathematics’ and science, advance subjects you know, we didn’t do the nice subjects like art anymore and scripture and things you know, easy subjects, we didn’t do that.
CB: There is one point I wanted to ask you, you were awarded the DFM, the Distinguished Flying Medal –
JA: Yes.
CB: Did you accept it?
JA: No I didn’t, I got a message, chaps used to come into town, my old friends who’d trained with me and were still on the squadron and they’d come in they said, one of them said, ‘see you got a gong then?’ and I said ‘I don’t know anything about it’, he said it was on DROs, daily routine orders, I did know about it because an officer appeared one day in the hospital and he sat on the bed next to me and I couldn’t see him, I couldn’t recognise him properly, because my eyes were badly affected and he said, in a very pompous way he said, ‘I have honour to inform you, that you have been awarded the Distinguished Flying Medal’ and it was as though I could hear a radio on in the background, it didn’t sound like me at all, and I heard myself saying ‘tell them to stick it up their arse, I don’t want a bloody medal, I want some clothes, I want a shirt and a tunic, and some trousers, I want some shoes’, because they hadn’t provided me with anything and another thing that upset me was a bitch had had puppies on the squadron, in the tent lines, and I’d got one of these puppies and that was the only thing I’d got in the world, I’d got the rest of the crew but I didn’t own them and the only thing I owned was this little Italian dog, he was a kind of Labrador and I used to save a bit on my plate from dinner or breakfast and bring it back for him, put it on the ground and he’d lick the plate clean, and the next morning I’d go to breakfast, forget to wash the plate and I’d remember later ‘oh god I forgot to wash the plate’, because it was always so clean, you see he’d licked it clean, and the lads came to the hospital and they said ‘the CO’s had all the dogs shot’, ‘what, why’d he do that, shot all the dogs?’, ‘cause they were good for morale those dogs and I used to look forward to my little dog you know when I came back from my trips, it might be the last day of my life, and he shot it, and that’s why I didn’t take the DFM, why I told them to stick it up their arse, now years after the war when I moved to Lincolnshire from London, where I live now, I was in Lincoln when I met somebody who turned out to be a flight commander from the squadron, and he was not the same flight I was in, we had A flight and B flight, he was the other flight and he said, I didn’t know him on the squadron ‘cause he came after I’d you know done most of my trips, he was the new boy, and he said ‘do you know the CO is still alive, he lives in Norfolk’ I said ‘no, I didn’t know that’ he said ‘I’ll give you his details, his telephone number and address’, so I phoned him and I said ‘I’d like to come and check a few things with you ‘cause I’m writing a manuscript for a book and the sort of things I’ve heard, I heard that you were a group captain dropped down to wing commander because you wanted what the Americans called some combat time, we thought you must be bloody potty,’ because he was non-compassionate at that time you see, I said ‘there’s certain things I’d like to check with you whether it’s true or not’, I went to see him, I said you never talked to us on the squadron because we were sergeants, he said ‘well I couldn’t because you were so much more experienced than me’ he said ‘I kept a low profile’ and I said ‘well you won’t remember me but I’ll tell you something now and it’ll remind you who I am’ and I told him about the DFM and where it should be stuck and he was flabbergasted, I had come back from dead you know to haunt him and he’d got a couple of dogs there you know, young two dogs, and how would he feel now if I shot his dogs –
CB: Did you mention that to him?
JA: I didn’t no, I just told him I was so embittered and outraged that I didn’t want the bloody medal but of course it was a mistake, looking at the Antiques Roadshow one day, I saw a few ordinary medals being auctioned and a DFM, and the DFM made about six thousand pounds or something put together with the other medals and I said to my wife what a fool I was I should’ve taken it, but it was involuntary you know when I said it, it was as though I wasn’t speaking, I was listening to somebody saying it, and I was in a bad way of course, I’d got no short term memory, for many months, I didn’t dare tell anybody because I wanted to get back on to flying you see, I thought you can fly with one eye, I’m not interested in anything else only flying, they wouldn’t have it, and [pauses] I was eventually, I was on this photographic course and coming out of a darkroom into the sunlight I couldn’t see I was blinded, my eyes are streaming, so I was sent to an army doctor in Aldershot, and he said to me ‘you’re up to British army standards’ and I said ‘maybe I am because you’re calling up people with one eye now’, they were towards the end of the war they called up people to serve with one eye. And I went back to my unit, one day I was called for by the medical officer and he said ‘you should have had a medical board last year’, I said ‘I did have one’ and he said ‘why do you say that? Nothing in your records about it’, I said ‘I went to Watchfield and I had a railway warrant for myself and a party of airmen and I was in charge, ‘and what do alleged happened?’, I said ‘well the medical officer who gave me a board he said ‘what’s your condition?’ and I said ‘about the same’ and he said ‘right we’ll leave it at that then, same’ and he said ‘I can’t understand you saying that’, and I said, he was flicking over pages in a file, I said, the pages are numbered, I said to him ‘there’s one page missing’ he said ‘it’s nothing to do with you’, I said ‘well it’s my records it’s something to do with me, that’s the page that gives you know, details of my last medical board’, he said ‘I’m a squadron leader, I’m competent to conduct medical boards, you are A1’, and I thought I can’t be A1, what’s their game, I thought, well they don’t want to pay me a pension for not being A1, so nothing I can do about it, I left the Air Force and I signed on with a panel doctor just before the National Health Service came into being, and he said I’ll just check you over while you’re here and he said ‘good God man you’re in a terrible state, what the hell has happened to you?’ I said ‘I was wounded when I was flying in the Air Force’, he said ‘well you should get a pension’ and I said ‘I can’t get a pension, I’m A1’ [laughs] he said ‘the bastards’ he said, ‘they shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it’, he said ‘I’ll get some British Legion forms and fill them in for you, you sign it and send them off’, so that happened, I took a day off, I thought this is a waste of time and they said ‘yes you are due for compensation’, gave me nine shillings a week, nine shillings, I didn’t need nine shillings anyway within two years I was an armour men’s designer working for the Ministry of Defence and from there I progressed upwards until I was managing director or chairman of three companies at the same time and I was making an awful lot of money.
CB: How do you look back at your time in the RAF? is it with –
JA: With disgust, you see when I was a child, daddy was in the Air Force, all his friends were in the Air Force, they were my heroes, we were, Douglas Bader was stationed on there and he used to come to my father’s house and I saw Lord Trenchard, he was going by in his car on the aerodrome and people who became very famous later and I admired them, they were all my heroes, Amy Johnson and Jim Mollison, all those people you know, civilian pilots, I didn’t know any other life so naturally I joined the Royal Air Force and when we were living at Cranwell, that time 1929 and then again just before the war, the Royal Air Force was known as the world’s finest flying club, it wasn’t very big, only about thirty thousand men in the RAF, they would join with no rank and they’d go out in seven years with no rank, there was no promotion, you see there’s no expansion until late 1930’s and everybody seemed to know everybody, my father knew every commanding officer throughout the world, and he was well known, when I was in the RAF people remembered him you know and they’d look at my name and they’d say ‘have you got any relations in the service?’, and my brother was in the RAF and he said ‘I always say no, ‘cause we don’t want to let the old man down’, ‘cause he was a bit of a scallywag, and anyway, I used to forget to draw my pension of nine shillings a week, forty five pence nowadays and it would go on for about three months and I had to write away for it, and I let things slide ‘cause I was making an awful lot of money, I was eating in the best restaurants in the West End and hotels all over the world, staying in the best hotels.
CB: What do you think you would’ve done if you hadn’t gone in the RAF?
JA: God knows
CB; Do you think you would have just brought your success as a businessman you just have brought that forward as it were and you would’ve started it straight away?
JA: I don’t know.
CB: Or did you need your time in the RAF to form and develop?
JA: I think the RAF made me very aggressive and when I went for a job after ready for coming out of the RAF, I was in uniform and I had an interview with the personnel manager of an engineering firm and he said ‘what were you doing in the Air Force?’ no ‘what were you doing in the war?’, well I was dressed in uniform, I’d got a flying badge and medal ribbons, I thought it was pretty obvious what I was doing, I said ‘I was flying in the Royal Air Force’ ‘oh’ he said ‘not much use to us is it?’, I was very aggressive at that time, the war had made me a bit loopy, and I felt like I wanted to knock his head off but I thought just a minute he’s right, I’ve learnt how to fly an aeroplane, how to drop bombs, how to blow people up, how to shoot people, I’ve learnt nothing that’s of any use to a civilian employer, he’s right I’ve completely wasted my time, if I been a cook or a lorry driver I would have something to contribute, but that made me determined to overtake all the people who hadn’t served in the war so I started at the bottom in a factory, and I went to evening classes and I had private tutors, I spent all my money on tuition, I got language teachers, I leaned Latin, I learned Russian, and I perfected my German and within two years I was head of the German department in import export firm with only Germans working for me, because I was an engineer and a German speaking Englishman, so I’d got an advantage there, and the cold war had started, and I thought either there’s going to be a war with Russia or eventually the Soviet empire is so big there will be a demand for things –
CB: that’s where you did most of your trade –
JA: So I learnt Russian so I could negotiate contracts in Moscow in Russian –
CB: Tenacious, determined.
JA: Well I was determined to do better than everybody, I went for an interview ,when I first came out of the Air Force, because I understand the government were giving grants to ex-service men, and I went for an interview and they said ‘what were you doing before you joined the Royal Air Force?’ and I said ‘well I was in school until just before’, they said ‘were you not studying for a profession?’, I said ‘I was only seventeen when I joined the air force, I was studying higher mathematics and subjects that would get me through the selection board to be a pilot’, I said ‘the town was being bombed and I thought by joining the Air Force I could help to stop that’, they looked at me, they were thinking you simpleton, they said ‘we only give grants to professional people’, so few weeks later I made another application and the attitude to me was humiliating or intended to be humiliating, so I got, I was fed up with being humiliated so I told the interviewee off, I really told him off, in words, you’ve never heard before and the second man who was sitting with him, when I left, rushed out with me and jumped in the lift and he said ‘thank you for doing that’, he said ‘that was wonderful the way you told him off, I’ve had to sit there for weeks listening to his rudeness’ he said ‘you really fixed him’. When I got a job as an armours designer, because I’d been in the Air Force and been shot, not because I knew anything about designing [slight pause], all the other people in the department had gone straight from school, into the ministry and they’d all got a free education and got a higher national certificate which is what I wanted to do you see, so I thought they’ve never been in the service and they’re the same age as me and they’re well ahead of me, got their qualifications, I’ll beat them, I’ve got to be better than them, so that’s what drove me on, I was inferior and I became superior ‘cause I had to, I had to do it, I spent all my money on studying, spent all my time on studying.
CB: Well that’s been a fantastic story Jim, thank you very much indeed.
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 Jim Auton
Subject
The topic of the resource
World War (1939-1945)
Great Britain. Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Description
An account of the resource
Jim Auton grew up on Royal Air Force stations and joined the Royal Air Force at seventeen. He trained as a pilot navigator and bomber at RAF Ansty near Coventry, then in South Africa under the Empire Air Training Scheme. He trained on B-24s at Lidder and after travelling up through Africa was stationed at Foggia in Italy, where he started his operations. He describes the tough conditions there, as well as the operations in which he participated, such as targeting an oil refinery in Fiume, now known as Rijeka in Croatia and Ploiesti in Romania. He took part in mining operations in the Danube as well as secret operations to drop supplies in Warsaw to support the uprising. Whilst on his thirty-seventh operation, he was injured and describes his time in hospital, the journey home and his ground jobs in the Royal Air Force after the war. He also relates why he turned down a Distinguished Flying Medal, and recounts his post-war career as a businessman.
Creator
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Clare Bennett
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
Contributor
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Emma Bonson
Heather Hughes
Language
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eng
Identifier
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AAutonJF150608
Format
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02:13:37 audio recording
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Warwickshire
Croatia--Rijeka
Danube River
Egypt
Italy--Foggia
Poland--Warsaw
Italy
Poland
Romania--Ploiești
Croatia
Romania
Danube River
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.
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Sound
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944
animal
B-24
bombing
coping mechanism
demobilisation
Distinguished Flying Medal
fear
military living conditions
military service conditions
mine laying
RAF Ansty
RAF Benson
sanitation
superstition
V-1
V-2
V-weapon
Warsaw airlift (4 August - 28 September 1944)
-
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/477/8359/ABrileyW150522.1.mp3
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/477/8359/PBrileyWG1503.2.jpg
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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
Briley, William George
George Briley
W G Briley
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Briley, WG
Description
An account of the resource
Eight items. An oral history interview with Warrant Officer William George Briley (1586825, Royal Air Force), his log book, service material and a sight log book containing <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/987">18 target photographs</a>. After training in South Africa, George Briley completed 39 bombing and supply dropping operations as a navigator with 40 Squadron flying Wellingtons from Foggia in Italy. <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by William George Briley and catalogued by Barry Hunter, <span>with additional identification provided by the Archeologi dell'Aria research group (</span><a href="https://www.archeologidellaria.org/">https://www.archeologidellaria.org</a><span>)</span>
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-10-09
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
MJ: Now.
WB: My name is Warrant Officer Briley. I’m recording this for the International Bomber Command Centre on 22 May 19 - 2015. And we - where I am is at Ruskington in Lincolnshire. I’ll try and see if I can. Well, my first big run to get to a training place was down to South Africa where I stayed for five months and picked up my brevet. And then, where I, I came back down by flying boat which took four days from Durban to Cairo. From then onwards, I was doing all around that area until they had vacancies up on the training field where the temperature of 150 – 120 was very warm. Then we got back down to Cairo and for - picked up me flight to Italy where I went through Naples and out then to Foggia where I stayed with the 40 Squadron the whole time until I’d finished my term, and then I went back to Naples and they gave me a [unclear]. That gave me a lot more places and also I was sent up to Athens where I was a gunner on on private Wellingtons that had been stripped with passengers and freight all over the Middle East. Then then I was – land – I was - oh sorry. After we done all that I was land down – I was down on the ground there until they got me a job back on Egypt where they sent me up to Udine in northern Italy. No no way of getting up there, but I went out and a British army driver took me all the way, which was very good of him, and the little – when I got up there they hadn’t a clue what I was doing up there for, although they knew themselves, 39 Squadron it was and they gave me a leave over the weekend when I got there and there’s a chance I had of seeing and being in Venice in the holiday part of the RAF they had out there. We came back by a big – by a big plane from Bari having had a train journey all the way back. And that landed me on besides the besides the canal on the Suez Canal and from there we were doing I was doing quite a lot of driving which I wanted to do until they found a place for me which was in El Alamein[?] Back to Cairo and on to the flying the flying out to El Adam [?]. And I stayed here that’s where I picked up my WO. And I and I was put in charge, once I got away the driving they put me in charge of a sy – system well, well in in in an where the people going through and also the pilots and that. I had to, had to sign them through. Some didn’t want to do that and but then they had to. They got no signature otherwise. Anyway, from there that’s when I was sent – I was on leave then at the end and I made out. I picked up my brother who was in Cairo or rather he was up in – he was up in Palestine. Picked him up, we went to Haifa and stayed a fortnight. We enjoyed ourselves. I, I was lucky in that ‘cause I – that’s one brother. The other brother I picked up on the way in at Cairo. So I doubt if there were many other brothers who met du – met during the war. So [unclear] in the end it – we came by boat from Alexandria to Toulon. Waited there for the train back to England. And came – got back in June. One of the coldest Junes I think I knew at that time, especially when you’d been at a temperature of a hundred-and-twenty and that. Now the temperature here went across that boat was really ferocious. And then we was sent up to Wednesbury for discharge. They had to make a suit for me I was so ruddy small and out of all proportion and today I’m even worse. The trouble is I aint going in. I was dead on the lowest figure. When I was on the Foggia we took off from Foggia and went down the Corinth Canal or to it, where we had been told there was a big storm up. It’s too high to go over. Too low to go under. So we were given a height which was about the best. As we came into it. Here we go, the thing is we went up like a ruddy express [mumble] express lift, and stopped and went down straight away, and oh my head hit the blooming geodetics. It, it was so loud the pilot put - turned put it hard head round. He said: ‘What was that?’ I said ‘That was my flipping head.’ [Chuckles] It was yeah.
MJ: Yeah yeah.
WB: Yeah, we got through it and carried on. [Chuckle]
MJ: Well, well that’s the sort of thing –
WB: Yeah
MJ: - that you got to remember, you know.
WB: Hmm. [Chuckle].
MJ: What was it about the bridge?
WB: Eh?
MJ: That one about the bridge? You said about the [unclear]. Can you repeat that?
WB: Yes.
MJ: Please.
WB: [Sigh] [Background noise] I done that one.
MJ: So, so what was the story about that one?
WB: No, it’s not. It’s this one. The one with the four-thousand pound bomb. Kitzscher [?] And – our – well I was quite, quite surprised, you know, you see, where this bomb was. It was only a big hole that was there and they – one of the Italians came about and said ‘What you looking at it for?’ I said ‘I got an idea that’s our bomb.’ ‘Oh,’ he said – he said ‘What has happened?’ He said ’There were two trains on that bridge when you dropped it.’ He said ’One of them went into it to– [unclear] into reinforcements and one coming out. He said: ‘The one coming out got the bar –part of it. The whole the back of [unclear] train and that other one run into the hole that was there. [Chuckle] He says: ‘So you done a damn good job.’ [Laughter]. I’ve never been seen anybody about that - the crew I could tell to.
MJ: Well that’s -
WB: Yeah.
MJ: That’s the good part about it.
WB: Apparently in the Blitz –
MJ: Yeah.
WB: The eight months Blitz. Every night. [Chuckle]. And, it’s so much so I managed to get it out of – but other people commanding me. ‘I can’t go on the back of this bike.’ I said ‘Why not?’ He said ‘Well, I’m out in the open.’ I should have sat on mine all the time. [Chuckle] Any rate, in the end, a number of them complained about it and but, they were more or less protecting me. [Laugh]. I can see their point and any way, they said – they asked me whether I’d like to learn how to drive. I said ‘I would very much.’ And so they brought a driver in from a local gas company depot and he said ‘Now, let’s see. What do you wanna learn?’ I said: ‘Anything I can drive. I was able to – so lorries and that.’ ‘Ah, so you want double declutching.’ You know to this day, and that was in the war. To this day, I still use, I didn’t realise it, part of the double declutching.
MJ: Hm.
WB: Right the way through, and it was only my sister who told me that my changing up and changing down and that was smooth, and I can’t see how it – how it can be smooth? And I worked it out. The – I wasn’t doing the whole double declutching, what I was doing – now with double declutching you use your feet as well. That’s all I wasn’t doing. [Mumble] Step in here.
MJ: Here. It’s good. What – what –
WB: What?
MJ: What – what sort of ops and things did you actually stand out for one reason of another?
WB: What you want me to do?
MJ: I’m here.
WB: Supplied it and then I went and got – I went there to be of service there. [Laughter]. All on one aerodrome. We called it Kalamaki Avenue[?]. It was –
MJ: So – what ‘s that bit of paper?
WB: Yeah. [Unclear]. Can’t hardly read it now. [Unclear] Penetration. Frontal conditions. Last night your bombers carried out their mission with excellent results. This attack which – which you carried out [unclear] or in the port of crews participated. Please convey to all ranks under your command my opposition – appreciation of this noteworthy effort. That was from the Group Captain commanding 263 Wing.
MJ: What did you have to do in that?
WB: Hm?
MJ: What what what was the op? Operation? What operation – what?
WB: Oh these aerodromes.
MJ: You say you had to bomb them? Or –
WB: No, it – thing is they were all bombed on one night by different – they sent out the squadron. Three or four to one – three or four to [unclear].
MJ:
WB: I don’t think that was the one that hit me on the head. I hadn’t been given my flight badge then. I was just a Sergeant. [Pause]. 9th to the 10th of October 1944 [turning of pages] 9 10 of October –
MJ: What was that op?
WB: Hm.
MJ: What did you have to do for that one?
WB: [Pause] On the – on the 4th – 4th of October ’44 we went to the Danube and put a mine – two mines down there. Have having had to fly there at thirty foot and then there was a a – I think there was haystacks even higher than we were. So I was expecting anytime that we – that we should get a gun from behind them. Then the next one we went on the 9th we went to Athens, we did that and they were put for us they were pretty long trips. Athens six hours and the Danube was five fifty-one.
MJ: So what – why did you that one to similar to the Dam Busters one. Why?
WB: It was the [unclear] valley. There’s the valley. South, it was south of one of their big cities. I forget which one it was. Began with a B, I know that. [Laughter].
MJ: So what did you have to do that made it similar to the other dams? Did you have to go lower or was it just too hot or what?
WB: While we kept low was to get underneath their mining thing and also we were down there so as we could get in underneath it and without them noticing it, and we didn’t – did manage it seems ‘cause nobody came to try and have a go at us. Then five days later we went over there again. Not this to the Danube which was up south of a – a big city beginning with B, I think it was. And this this second one, our eleventh was on Kalamaki operation bombed over flares. So we had two long ones. [Pause] I know that we bombed one of the American bombings. They gave us a photo of what they had left. When we got there it hadn’t even been touched. So we had to do all the bombing for them. That’s the Americans all along, which I never did quite like.
MJ: [Unclear]
WB: [Unclear]. More modern, modern aircraft and that. I mean the Wellington was a pre-war, but we had it all the way through the war out there.
MJ: So did you fly different aircraft more often or just one particular one? ‘Cause you got –
WB: You could hardly see the blinder[?]. All I know is it was going off track and I couldn’t I couldn’t get the thing to go in at all. In the end, when he when he went ran out of [unclear] I expect and well that’s that. He said ‘[Unclear] Which way you going? I said ‘No, you’re too late to go the back.’ I said ‘So turn on and face, face Yugoslavia.’ And I said ‘When you get - as soon as you’ve seen the mountains over there, turn south. Don’t wait for me.’ I said ‘Then we’ll sort – start sorting out some.’ Anyway I got ‘em back in.
MJ: So what happened when you got to base then?
WB: Then – then I was a bit late when I got, of course, when we got in. But after that on three occasions I got them to go another route because there was a blooming eight-hundred – and sent us out on our own valley, there was a hill eight-hundred foot high and quite often the clouds comes came down so they forced them under the thousand so I sort of – ‘What’s the matter Briley?’ I said : ‘There’s a hill in that valley eight hundred foot.’ Said ‘Yeah.’ So he turned round to his thing[?]and said ‘Go and see if he’s right.’ The bloke said when he came back he said : ‘He’s right.’ ‘Oh, sent him round the end of the peninsula.’ That happened three times. I had to – ‘cause I knew where it was. I was coming in through the valley at two-thousand in the cloud dived down at the end where I knew it’d be.’ ‘Didn’t you – didn’t you see the target?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Well how come you came back here half-hour before any others [unclear]. I said ‘’Cause I used the valley.’ ‘But you told us.’ ‘But yeah I know where it is.’
MJ: So you took a short cut?
WB: Yep. You see the second time he was sending me down for – I I didn’t do much on that. I knew it – I knew how it was. So so we had a look down at it and found this thing this hill. ‘Right we can use that.’ I did on three occasions. Got back in. Nice time I was the only one on breakfast. [Chuckle]. Everybody else came in half-hour later. Every time ‘Missed it again.’ I said : ‘No we did not miss it.’ Berh, that was another bleeding officer and then, and I gather from one of our other, one of the crew I saw in Cairo. He said ‘You know what has happened up at up at - up at Foggia?’ I said ‘No.’ ‘ See they sent out those big aircraft, up our valley at a thousand feet.’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Three crashed into that hill you told them about.’ I said ‘That’s bloody murder.’ And if I had my way I’d have had him but they took no notice of me, but it was them that - I mean the big aircraft, American aircraft has about twelve people on board. The Wellington only had five. You think it. Three aircraft. Thirty-six. Dead. Before they’d even started.
MJ: ‘Cause they took the wrong route.
WB: Yeah. I wish I could have done but you supposed to be a – on their side. [Laughter]. Yeah. And one or two people told me about it and I said that ‘I said I quite agree with ya. But we daren’t do it.’
MJ: Yeah.
WB: Whether they learned after that when they hit this hill there’s one way to find out. Not the [unclear] of the bleeding crew though.
MJ: Was there any more situations like that you had before? Was it a lot like that?
WB: Yeah well. This is how it is.
MJ: Yeah.
WB: Another time she came down to – oh blimey – begins will L.
MJ: Well –
WB: Yeah.
MJ: Yeah. Well anyway yeah.
WB: Yeah. Anyway, she came down there. I was [unclear] been on there a fortnight and she said ‘That comes off.’
MJ: So you had to lose your –
WB: So my mate said ‘Are you gonna?’ ‘No,’ I said ‘I’ve got home. I’ve worked it out. I want us to have three weeks to see what it’s like.’ Anyway, I didn’t get any in the end. Wasn’t for her, it was for myself. It itched though underneath. [Shudder].
MJ: Yeah I know.
WB: So I –
MJ: Yeah. Don’t go good with a uniform. So I put that on. Ok I’m gonna take a photo. You in 40 Squadron.
WB: That’s 40 Squadron in 3 Group with Wellingtons in 1940 or ‘41. Towards the end of ’41, 40 Squadron moved toward Malta. Moved to Egypt early in ’42 into 205 Group. Moving to North Africa and eventually to Italy. During – I joined 40 Squadron in Foggia Italy in August ’44. First flight 30th of August ’44 and first op 1st of September ’44. And last one 39, 21st of January 1945. Book says last, last 13th of March. Hmm, it’s wrong. Otherwise how was I doing it in ’45?
MJ: There’s there’s –
WB: It was a remake Manchester. Found that the Manchester were two Merlins was like the blooming Wellington Mark II was Merlins. They’re useless, so they took it back, extended the wing, put in two more engines and extended other things, call it the Lancaster, and it was a success. Makes you wonder doesn’t it?
MJ: It does yeah.
WB: I’m lying. I don’t think it’s been made public much ‘cause the Manchester was a dud.
MJ: Yeah.
WB: Hmm.
MJ: This is Michael Jeffery on behalf of the International Bomber Command Historical Project Unit. Thank you to William Briley for his recording.
WB: It won’t. Make it George, George Briley.
MJ: George Briley, it is.
WB: George, it’s what I’m known as. You’ll find on here that no one knows about a Duckworth[?]. It’s George everybody.
MJ: Well that’s good.
WB: Yeah.
MJ: Well, it’s very nice to meet you George. Thank you very much for you co-operation and your photographs and such like and I hope to meet you again. On behalf of the International Bomber Command, thank you again. On the 22nd of May 2015.
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 William George Briley
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Mick Jeffery
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-05-22
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
00:28:49 Audio recording
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Sound
Identifier
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ABrileyW150522
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending review
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
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-10
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Gemma Clapton
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
Description
An account of the resource
After training in South Africa, William Briley flew operations as a navigator with 40 Squadron flying Wellingtons from Foggia, Italy. One of his operations involved the dropping of a 4000lb bomb which derailed two trains. He was also involved in mine laying in the Danube.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Egypt
Greece
Italy
Italy
Danube River
South Africa
Greece--Zakynthos
Italy--Foggia
Greece--Corinth Canal
Danube River
40 Squadron
aircrew
bombing
mine laying
navigator
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2231/33183/LBirdJH184015v2.2.pdf
cf3f787c3fd871713b3329a4994ab9c3
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
Bird, JH
Description
An account of the resource
50 items. The collection concerns Flying Officer J H Bird (b. 1921, 184015 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, note books, newsletters and a <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2251">photograph album</a>. After training in south Africa, he flew operations as a pilot with 104 Squadron. The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Lissie Wilkins and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-02-15
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
Bird, JH
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/.
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
Title
A name given to the resource
J H Bird’s pilots flying log book. One
Description
An account of the resource
Pilots flying log book for J H Bird, covering the period from 29 March 1943 to 24 August 1945. Detailing his flying training, operations flown and instructor duties. He was stationed at RAF Induna, RAF Kumalo, RAF Gianaclis, RAF Peplow, and Italy. Aircraft flown in were Tiger Moth, Oxford, Wellington, Albemarle and Horsa. He flew a total of 38 night operations with 104 squadron. Targets were Porto Farraio, Orvieto, Valmontone Road, Viterbo Road, San Stephano, River Danube, Giurgiu, Terni Road, Almasfuzito, Trieste, Feuersbrunn Aerodrome, Bucharest, Brod, Milan, Fiume, Kraljevo, Valence, St Valentin, Miskolc, Bologna, Pesaro, Ferrara, Tatoi aerodrome, Brescia, Szekesfehervar, Salonika, Kalamaki and Verona. His pilots for his first 'second dickie' operations were Flight Sergeant Holmes and Warrant Officer Harrison.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943
1944-05-11
1944-05-12
1944-05-13
1944-05-14
1944-05-22
1944-05-23
1944-05-25
1944-05-26
1944-05-28
1944-05-29
1944-05-31
1944-06-01
1944-06-02
1944-06-03
1944-06-06
1944-06-07
1944-06-09
1944-06-10
1944-06-12
1944-06-13
1944-06-26
1944-06-27
1944-06-29
1944-06-30
1944-07-02
1944-07-03
1944-07-06
1944-07-07
1944-07-08
1944-07-09
1944-07-10
1944-07-11
1944-07-14
1944-07-15
1944-07-19
1944-07-20
1944-08-10
1944-08-11
1944-08-15
1944-08-16
1944-08-20
1944-08-21
1944-08-22
1944-08-23
1944-08-24
1944-08-25
1944-08-26
1944-08-27
1944-08-28
1944-08-29
1944-09-01
1944-09-02
1944-09-03
1944-09-05
1944-09-06
1944-09-07
1944-09-10
1944-09-11
1944-09-13
1944-09-14
1944-09-15
1944-09-17
1944-09-18
1944-09-19
1944-09-20
1944-09-21
1944-09-22
1944-10-04
1944-10-05
1944-10-09
1944-10-10
1944-10-11
1945
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Austria
Croatia
Egypt
France
Great Britain
Greece
Hungary
Italy
Romania
Serbia
Zimbabwe
Austria--Amstetten Region
Austria--Lower Austria
Croatia--Rijeka
Croatia--Slavonski Brod
Egypt--Alexandria
Danube River
England--Shropshire
France--Valence (Drôme)
Greece--Dekeleia
Greece--Thessalonikē
Greece--Zakynthos
Hungary--Komárom
Hungary--Miskolc
Hungary--Székesfehérvár
Italy--Bologna
Italy--Brescia
Italy--Ferrara
Italy--Milan
Italy--Orvieto
Italy--Pesaro
Italy--Santo Stefano Island
Italy--Terni
Italy--Trieste
Italy--Tuscany
Italy--Valmontone
Italy--Verona
Italy--Viterbo
Romania--Bucharest
Romania--Giurgiu
Serbia--Kraljevo (Kraljevo)
Zimbabwe--Bulawayo
Austria--Fels am Wagram
Danube River
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
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Log book and record book
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One booklet
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Mike Connock
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
LBirdJH184015v2
104 Squadron
aircrew
Albemarle
bombing
Flying Training School
Horsa
Initial Training Wing
Oxford
pilot
RAF Peplow
Tiger Moth
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2251/40585/PBirdJH18010008.2.jpg
e9ed39a2c555f99baec1041777958908
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
Bird, JH. Photo Album
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-02-15
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
Bird, JH
Description
An account of the resource
The album contains images taken during his service in Italy and includes target photographs and descriptions of bombing operations.
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
Mining in River Danube Between Belgrade & Novi Sad
Giurgiu Oil Installations and Warehouses - Rumania
Description
An account of the resource
A vertical aerial photograph taken during an operation. The top left of the image is obscured by light flashes but the river and both banks are clear. Under the photograph is written "Top Notcher".
It is captioned '1254. Fog. 2/3 June 44 // NT 8" 9400' ->030° 00.45 Giurgiu. G. 6x500 P.8. Sgt Bird M. 104'.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1944-06-03
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-06-03
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Romania
Romania--Giurgiu
Danube River
Serbia--Novi Sad
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
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Photograph
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One b/w photograph on an album page
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Geolocation impractical
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PBirdJH18010008
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
104 Squadron
aerial photograph
mine laying
target photograph
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1794/35710/MWilsonRC1389401-170113-100001.2.pdf
e091b70217cd293106ad0a7b6528b79c
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
Wilson, Reginald Charles
R C Wilson
Description
An account of the resource
166 items. The collection concerns Reginald Charles Wilson (b. 1923, 1389401 Royal Air Force) and contains his wartime log, photographs, documents and correspondence. He few operations as a navigator with 102 Squadron. He was shot down on 20 January 1944 and became a prisoner of war.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Janet Hughes 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
2017-01-13
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
Wilson, RC
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
1
[underlined] MY PRISONER OF WAR DAYS
This follows the notes of my experiences in Bomber Command which ended with being shot down over the target in Berlin at 20:00 hrs on 20 January 1944) [/underlined]
My Capture (21 January 1944)
Parachuting from 17000 ft. in a strong north-westerly wind, meant that about 17 minutes later I landed, luckily well away from the bombed area of Berlin, in a quiet leafy place. I had descended through cloud and crashed through trees in a small wood in a suburb to the south of Berlin. I was amazed to find that I had sustained no injuries, apart from a grazed face and a sprained ankle. I released my parachute and removed my mae-west life jacket (these I hid from sight as best I could) and made my way to the edge of the wood.
I was now on the edge of a tree-lined street of suburban houses, and I could hear the voices of two or three people as they walked along the street. Somehow I did not feel scared, but nevertheless I dodged behind trees as they passed by. I think that the enormity of the occasion, and that I had survived almost without a scratch, had filled me with some kind of elation at that time, (although I had no idea whether any of the rest of the crew were alive or dead).
I proceeded furtively along the street and then quite suddenly I felt an urgent call of nature, and had to find a spot where I could 'do it' immediately! This was in somebody's front garden: I have often thought since what would have happened if I had been discovered in this position by a local resident, especially as I had just bombed their city!
The street lead out into a country road with houses scattered along it and I decided this was the best route to follow, as I might find a farm building where I could hide for the time being. It was now late evening, in January, and although cold it was dry and I did not feel too much discomfort apart from my sprained ankle.
I walked on through the night and soon it would be getting light and I needed to 'hole up' somewhere. I turned off the road towards a barn and disturbed a dog which started to bark. Almost from nowhere an old man appeared, who apparently was 'knocking up' people (farm workers start early in Germany like everywhere else). He saw me and he said "kaputt" and I nodded. I could have knocked him down, but I decided discretion was the better part of valour. As I was near the Berlin suburbs in Germany, not Holland or France where some help from the Local population was possible, any resistance here (in enemy territory) could end in disaster for me.
The old man telephoned from the farm and shortly afterwards two policemen appeared, one brandishing a revolver and a pair of handcuffs. He indicated to me that if I walked with them they would not handcuff me, but if I started to run away they would shoot me. As by now my sprained ankle was causing me
[page break]
2
trouble, I hobbled alongside them back to one of their houses, where I was exhibited to the policeman's wife before I was taken to the police station.
From Police station to Dulag Luft
At the police station I was searched and all my few possessions – my wallet, cigarette case, navigation watch, escape gear (some French francs, a map of Europe on a handkerchief and a tin of Horlicks tablets) – taken from me. They did not discover my special metal trouser button, which points north when balanced on a pencil point, and was sewn to my flies!
They opened my wallet which contained only photos and asked me quite courteously (by the odd word or gesture) whether I was married. They were quite impressed at the quality of my uniform (which happened to be almost new). They also asked me whether I was a 'Jude'. I often wondered what they would have done if I had said 'yes'! After that I was put in a cell in a yard at the rear of the station.
I spent the rest of the day until the afternoon at the police station, but it was not uneventful. Firstly a French foreign worker said, through the high cell window grill, that "sept camarades sont mort". As I still had no idea what had happened to my other seven crew members, this news was not helpful to my morale. Then an attractive German girl in high leather boots was brought to the cell door and talked to me in English. I do not recall whether she was practising her English or trying her hand at interrogation but she did restore my morale! This was followed by a police officer who appeared with my cigarette case and offered me one of my own cigarettes. I indicated that he should take one also. As these cigarettes were State Express 555 (a superior brand), it was a cordial meeting! He took me out of the cell and we walked beyond the yard to a small field, where he showed me several rows of incendiary bombs laid out, all marked with ICI lot numbers – obviously from some stricken bomber.
Some time later a sandwich was brought to me wrapped in newspaper. This newspaper showed a large photograph of an American airman who had been shot down. The words 'Murder Incorporated' were painted on the back of his leather flying jacket. These words were used by the Italian Mafia in New York who were killer squads in the 1920's. The German Press had lost no time in using this photograph, with the headline 'Terrorflieger'. I wondered at the time whether or not the newspaper 'wrapper' used for my sandwich was accidental or deliberate. If deliberate I was being labled the same as the American, although the police behaved quite correctly towards me during my short stay at the police station.
It was late afternoon when I was moved from the police station in an old Ford motorcar, which belched smoke all the way to a Luftwaffe airfield to the north-east of Berlin. As we approached the airfield the police drive stopped to ask directions from two immaculately dressed Luftwaffe officers. One of them peered into the car and looking at me said, in perfect English, 'last night?' I nodded 'yes' and he said, "We are night fighters", with a grin of satisfaction all
[page break]
3
over his face. In a few minutes we had arrived at the guard house of Werneuchen, a night fighter airfield, one of several defending the city.
I was soon locked in a guard house cell, awaiting the next event. Not long after, I was taken to the officers' mess and paraded like a trophy in front of the commanding officer and company. The commanding officer indicated to me not to look so glum. I suppose he was thinking that 'for me the war was over' and I should be relieved that I was ok.
I was returned to the cell and the guardhouse sergeant came in and talked to me in broken English for some time. He had been a bomber pilot and had bombed London some 60 times in the latter part of 1941. I told him I was a civilian at the time, living in that part of London, but that now we were quits!
I remember that evening, they brought in a large dish of macaroni milk pudding which seemed to me like a feast, as I had had nothing (other than the rye bread sandwich), since my eggs and bacon meal before we took off on the Berlin mission.
The following morning a corporal came into the cell. He could speak good English. He said he was in the guard house as punishment for some misdemeanour, but I think he was planted to engage me in conversation. He talked about the war. He had been in the siege of Leningrad and described the hardship for everyone. He said the Russians were almost sub-human, and were eating rats. The Russian hordes would overrun Europe if they were not stopped by the Western Nations. He also said he had been educated in England and his best friend was an Englishman. I do not remember anything controversial or anything that could be construed as interrogation.
Later this day I was moved from Werneuchan with three other RAF aircrew who had been shot down, one being a wireless operator from my own squadron. We were being transferred to a Luftwaffe station at Spandau West, which involved travelling with only one Luftwaffe guard (who was armed, thankfully) on an underground train through the heart of Berlin, crowded with civilians. It was quite a worrying experience (like travelling the whole length of the Central Line in London), wondering whether they would suddenly turn into a lynch mob and start attacking us! We were extremely relieved when we arrived at Spandau West without incident.
We spent the next two nights in a bunker, as the RAF were still active in the area of Berlin. Our number increased to 16 but still no sign of any of my crew. But I met yet another chap from my squadron who had been shot down over Magdeburg (just west of Berlin) the following night to me, and who had trained with me as a navigator in Canada.
Although up till now I was relishing the sheer joy of being alive, I now began to reflect on my position. Were all my crew killed? Would my parents have been notified by now that I was missing? If so, there would be weeks of agony before they learnt I was alive and uninjured. This was a time when all of us could talk to each other and we talked our heads off about our narrow
[page break]
4
escapes and capture. One chap had five pieces of shrapnel removed from his back whilst we were there.
The food we received here (in the bunker) was poor and indicated the sort of rations we should expect as POWs, the rye bread almost inedible – I don't think I got used to it the whole time I was a prisoner. Several of the chaps were in need of a smoke and tried to smoke straw from the bedding, wrapped in a small piece of newspaper! They kept worrying the guards for a cigarette until one of the guards gave them one of his. I learnt later that this guard had lost both his parents in a bombing raid just a short time before . . .
After two days we were taken in a Luftwaffe bus to a railway terminus in Berlin. Our journey took us through the Tiergarten area of West Berlin, This area was the largest park in Berlin and not industrialised at all, and as such did not appear to be damaged very much. (Perhaps the guards, because of this, thought it was a good route to take). As we approached the centre, the damage was more prevalent and Bismarkstrasse had certainly taken a hammering. On arrival at the railway station, our rather large party of guards hustled us directly on to the train bound for Frankfurt am Main, for which we were very thankful, as a number of Berliners on the platform started shouting and gesticulating in a threatening manner. The train reached Frankfurt the following morning and we were taken by tram to the town of Oberursal, to Dulag Luft, the Luftwaffe interrogation centre.
Dulag Luft
On arrival we were all searched again and put in separate cells, with just our clothes and no possessions. The cells were entirely plain and featureless, with just bed, a straw filled palliasse, a chair and a small table. There was an electric wall heater, not for our benefit but for our discomfort, as it turned out.
So here I was in solitary confinement, more or less in a void after all that had happened since leaving England. There was nobody to talk to, nothing to write with, no noise, nothing to see, just your thoughts to review over and over again.
It was almost a pleasure when an apparent civilian came into the cell. Of course it was the 'Red Cross representative' we had been warned about on the Squadron. He had come in with a bogus Red Cross form to get all my details, starting with my name etc, my next of kin, and ending up with squadron details etc. I said that, under the Geneva Convention, I was only allowed to give my name, rank and number, and after some discussion he left, having offered me a cigarette, which I took. Shortly after that the electric heater came on and the cell began to get very hot, so hot in fact that I was able to smoulder a piece of straw from the palliasse to an ember (by poking it into the heater element) but not enough to light the cigarette I had been given. The overheating was another ploy to unsettle you, because you couldn't sleep or relax at all, and the temperature could reach 120F or more. The next day I was taken to an interrogator, who was very polite and civilised. He started to talk about the war and then produced a photograph of the H2S radar
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equipment I used for navigation and blind bombing runs. He asked what it was, and I said I did not know. He then tried another tack, saying that I could be a spy and they needed evidence to prove that I wasn't. I was then taken back to the cell to endure another hot day and night. During this time, the only food we got each day was just watery soup, rye bread spread with 'marg' or some sort of jam, and a drink of acorn coffee. The following day was my 21st. birthday and I was taken back to the interrogator. He started off again on me proving my identity, I still quoted my name, rank, and number, and in the end he got bored and produced a dossier of my squadron (102 Squadron), saying that it was one of their best customers. I was amazed that he had details of my squadron and I would have dearly liked to have asked him whether any of my crew were alive. It was not until after the war that I learned the Dulag Luft were able to identify squadrons by the number painted on the side of the aircraft. Obviously they were able to match the crew survivors with the close proximity of the aircraft wreckage. He was also accurate about numbers of prisoners, as 102 Squadron was the second highest squadron for numbers of POWs taken in Germany for the whole of Bomber Command. After this episode my interrogation was over, and I asked the interrogator whether I could have a shave, as it was my 21st. birthday! He arranged this for me.
I was transferred the following morning to the Dulag Transit Camp at Frankfurt am Maine and my few possessions were returned to me – except for my photographs and cigarettes which had been 'lost', and my astro-navigation watch which was confiscated under 'war regulations'. But for the watch I got an official receipt!
My interrogation period was about average, but some were in solitary confinement for many days. I can only assume that much depended on the 'intake' of prisoners. In January 1944, the losses to Bomber Command (and presumably the American Air force) were high, about 10%. Because of the increasing numbers and the limited number of cells, it may not have been possible for Dulag Luft to arrange longer periods of solitary confinement at this time.
I was overjoyed to meet John Bushell (my rear gunner) in the party transferred to the Transit Camp. John had a bad cut over is[sic] right eye, which luckily had healed up reasonably well. After we were hit, the plane had gone into a spiral dive, causing him to hit his head on his guns, so he was in a dazed state. The plane blew up near the ground, and John only survived because he was blown out and able to open his parachute in time. He landed on a searchlight battery and was taken into custody immediately. I think he was 24 hours ahead of me arriving at Dulag Luft. He told me he had met Laurie Underwood (my bomb-aimer who followed me out of the aircraft) at Spandau in West Berlin. Laurie was captured by the Wehrmacht whilst he was walking westwards through the night, away from Berlin. We also learned later that George Griffiths (our pilot) was safe, but we had no knowledge of the four remaining members of our crew. Details of George's survival and the four missing crew were not known to me until after the end of the war.
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After my experience so far, the Dulag Transit Camp indicated a substantial change that would take place in our daily lives, due to the fantastic support of the International Red Cross. Without this Organisation many would have died, or at least would have suffered ill health for the rest of their lives. We were now prisoners of war but we would not be officially registered until we were moved to the next camp (although we had been photographed already with our RAF service number).
The Transit Camp, although under the control of the Luftwaffe, was run internally by a small group of RAF officers and sergeants (all aircrew prisoners of war). There were about 200 prisoners and we stayed for two days. During this time we were given essential clothing like boots, overcoats, and, almost unbelievably, a fibre case containing many items like, socks, underclothes, sewing kit, cigarettes, tobacco, pipe, chewing gum, soap, toothbrush, razor, and even pyjamas. On baling out some had lost their flying boots and had damaged clothing. It was also winter in Germany and no-one of course had any other kit. All these items were supplied through the International Red Cross. (At this time the items we received were mainly American.)
The Camp was well stocked with Red Cross food parcels and together with the basic German rations, the 'RAF Staff' was able to produce impressive meals in the communal mess. They were almost sumptuous considering we had hardly eaten for over a week or more!
We were also able to send a postcard to our next of kin, which hopefully would get home in a month or so. I wrote:-
"My Dear Mum & Dad, I am now in Germany. You cannot write until I reach a POW camp. Please keep in touch with the Red Cross. I am unhurt and quite well. Please tell Pat I am safe. Meanwhile do not worry at all. All my love, Reg"
On departure we were each given an American Red Cross food parcel. In some ways it was sad to leave the Transit Camp after such a dramatic change in our fortunes. But the Camp was within a mile of Frankfurt's main railway station and I knew the town was due for more bombing attacks soon. In fact the Camp suffered severe damage, with some casualties, seven weeks later and had to be moved out of Frankfurt.
A large party of us were assembled and moved to the railway sidings where we were put into 'cattle trucks' (presumably old French Army trucks), marked 8 chevaux 40 hommes, although there were more than forty of us to each truck. We were now in the hands of the Wehrmacht and not the Luftwaffe. These trucks, with a few bales of straw added, were to be our living quarters for the next three days. Our fortunes had come down with a bump!
John and I had not met Laurie nor George in the Transit Camp and I can only assume that they were ahead of us and were already on their way to Stalag Luft3. I might have been with them had my commission come through on
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time. As it was, John and I were travelling together on our way to Stalag1VB, Muhlberg on Elbe, a town about 30 miles east of Leipzig and about 65 miles south of Berlin.
The journey to Stalag1VB was a nightmare. Each truck had an armed guard, standing by a partly opened door (for ventilation), but there was barely room to squat on the floor of the truck, let along room for sleeping. There was one bucket for urinating in, slopping about in the straw in the centre of the truck. And occasionally the train would stop when we were allowed out in a long line, to drop our trousers and defecate beside the rail track! Our only pleasure was to enjoy some of the contents of our first food parcel (that which didn't need a tin opener!), together with a meagre portion of German black bread.
We arrived at Neuburxdorf railway sidings near Muhlberg, although we could not see the town, and we were ushered out on to the road about a mile or so from Stalag1VB. The scene looked like Siberia. There had been a recent fall of snow which had partially thawed and there was slush everywhere. Before us was a flat desolate plain and just a blur in the distance, which was our destination.
[underlined] Stalag1VB Muhlberg on Elbe [/underlined]
The road took us through the wide open space of fields to the east end of the Camp and we marched round it to the west gate.
The Camp was constructed at the end of 1939, then mostly tented, but eventually replaced with many wooden barracks either side of a main road, some in separate compounds. Each area had a latrine to cope with 40 prisoners at one sitting! (known as 40-holers). There were various other buildings, including two cookhouses (for boiling mostly rotten potatoes etc. and producing 'skilly' – watery soup, and acorn coffee). There were showers and delousing areas, and a hospital (of sorts). Also several small compounds with solitary confinement cells to punish prisoners for breaking the rules (like trying to escape etc.) There were several water 'reservoirs', (originally for supplying water for sewerage, planned but never completed) – a large one with a windmill driving a water pump. These reservoirs were often referred to as 'swimming pools' but were now stagnant and presumably retained to be available in case of fire. Two compounds had space for sports activities and exercise (walking).
The Camp was surrounded by a double barbed wire fence with an inner trip wire (if crossed you could be shot). There were six watchtowers, one at each corner, and one each in the centre of the two longer sides.
It originally housed French and Polish POWs, but by the end of 1944 it catered for the following nationalities – Americans 473, Belgians 66, British 7578 (including about 2000 RAF), French 1335, Italians 2321, Dutch 1269, Poles 2455, Serbs 736, Slovaks 652, Russians 4292 – Totalling 21177
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Each wooden barrack was divided by a communal brick and cement-built wash and boiler house. Each end catered for up to 250 prisoners, with one inside night latrine. By 1944, as the war developed, due to the continual influx and transfer of prisoners, the barracks became dilapidated, cold and dismal, and totally overcrowded. The wooden exterior of the buildings – a dirty black/brown colour – gave a depressing effect to the whole scene, especially in the snow, slush and mud of winter.
As we approached the west gate of the Camp, we passed through the Wehrmacht administration and barrack block of our German guards, to the formidable wooden two-tower structure, with a bridge across the road painted with the sign 'M STAMMLAGER 1VB'. On the bridge there was a sentry box with a machine gun and a searchlight on top, and two patrolling guards. As we passed under the bridge, we knew that our lives were yet again going to change to an entirely new experience.
Induction to Stalag1VB
We moved into the showers and delousing block, where we were searched for the seventh time before we stripped off for a communal shower, whilst our clothing and possessions were passed through gas chambers (not lethal I hasten to say). On return of our clothing they still smelt of gas, and I found that my flying boots (almost new) were missing. They had been 'appropriated' by the German or Russian helpers and I never saw them again. Instead I got a pair of ill fitting clogs made of bits of leather upper, nailed to wooden soles. I had to clomp around in these for the next three month, in all the mud and slush, before I got a pair of army boots from the Red Cross.
After this we moved to the 'hospital block' where we were literally stabbed with blunt needles by the French medical orderlies. These were our vaccination and inoculation jabs against all the diseases that could result from poor and insufficient food, filthy conditions and overcrowding. The one disease the Germans were really afraid of was typhus, as the year before, an epidemic of typhus had wiped out many Russian prisoners who were also working amongst civilians in the fields nearby.
Now we were registered as POWs on 1st February 1944, given a Stalag1VB number and issued with our 'dog tags'. We also received two blankets apiece. Mine obviously had been used before, as they were very thin and had traces of being soiled with excreta. Whether they had been laundered or not I don't know, but they certainly had been through the gas chambers for delousing! Luckily, the one process that was spared us, was having our heads shaved like convicts. We were the first 'intake' to escape this indignity. (We might have been in fashion, come another generation or so!)
Introduction to prison life in Stalag1VB
My first memory, now inside the camp, was the trail of British prisoners collecting their weekly Red Cross food parcel (not always a full parcel and not always every week). We were also lucky, as the camp, having had British
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prisoners since August 1943, was now benefiting from an established procedure under the Geneva Convention. The International Red Cross, operating from Switzerland, were the Protecting Power (who looked after the prisoners' welfare for Britain) and dealt with the German Government, who were the Detaining Power. British prisoners were represented by an elected 'Man of Confidence', who had contact with the German Commandant about all matters arising day by day. Our Man of Confidence was a Canadian nicknamed 'Snowshoes'.
Compared with ourselves the Russian prisoners were in a terrible state. They did not have the protection of the Geneva Convention and they had no Red Cross provision or repatriation of extremely sick or wounded soldiers. Those who were not sick or limbless had to work as slave labour (arbeit kommandos) in the fields and farms nearby. They were paid in 'lagermarks' but these were relatively worthless. It was fortunate that they had the opportunity to 'trade' for bread etc. with cigarettes got from POWs and also, with various 'rackets', were able to supplement their own meagre German rations. They were almost in rags, and the limbless etc. were in a pitiful condition, reduced to begging and crawling in and out of incinerators for scraps of food remaining in tins. They were often in competition and alongside stray dogs. The German guards gave the Russians no quarter and beat them for the slightest thing. Of course Germans taken prisoner on the Russian front were in the same position as the Russians, with no Geneva Convention to protect them.
Initially we were housed with the British Army who were originally taken prisoner in North Africa before the Battle of EL Alamein. They were moved from Italian POW camps in July/August 1943 by the German Army, when the Italian front line in Italy was beginning to crumble. John Bushell and I were together and we both appreciated the steadfastness of the British Army. They had been prisoners a year or two already and were attuned to the lifestyle. They were resolute and disciplined, despite the fact that they had not been liberated in Italy, and had suffered poor treatment and lack of food under the Italians in their prison camps. As we were only eleven days out of England they wanted to know all the latest news from home.
Our first impression of the barracks was abysmal. On the right hand side were three tiers of rickety bunks in blocks of twelve, separated by a small corridor between each block. These continued up the right hand side and some over to the left hand side. In the centre at each end, there was a stove and a hotplate connected by a horizontal flue to a central chimney. On the left hand side of the flue, there were 'gim-crack' tables built up from basic wooden forms, and further forms either side for seating. In this area, 83 ft. x 40 ft., (about as long, but 7 ft. wider than my back garden) up to 250 prisoners had to live, cook, eat and sleep. The overcrowding and noise could be overwhelming especially after curfew. Clothing and personal possessions had to be stored on the bunks. The bottom bunk occupant was lucky as he had some space underneath, and the top bunk occupant did not suffer from straw and dust etc. falling down from the straw-stuffed palliasse of the bunk above! The floors were like barn floors, with bricks set in earth. Lighting was supplied
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by four 25 watt bulbs. Daylight was poor as many windows were broken and boarded up. There was a night latrine in the entrance – just a seat with a concrete cesspit underneath – which stank like hell day and night. The wash and boiler house that divided the two barracks had large concrete troughs with several spray jets that had long since ceased to function. Anyway the water supply was sporadic and it was a problem to keep the boiler full, for making communal brews during the day. Here we washed our clothes when we could and had our daily ablutions. Washes were often carried out with a 'Klim' tin of water ('Klim', the reverse of 'Milk', was the name of the Canadian milk powder it had contained). It required great skill to get an adequate wash with that amount of water! The drainage system was poor and leaked most of the time. As a result there was a constant trickle of dank water down the main road that separated most of the huts.
After three weeks the RAF contingent were transferred to the RAF compound where about 2000 (mostly aircrew) were housed. This compound was lockable and when we got too boisterous we were locked in as punishment. Here I met several chaps who were on 102 Squadron or previously were on the same training courses. Those from 102 Squadron wanted to know whether they had been reported as POWs. Of course we didn't know, because 1943 – 1944 was a bad time for losses, and we were missing and in Germany, before they were reported, at home, as POWs.
Our lives revolved around food and keeping warm
There is no doubt these primary requirements of life are paramount in a prison camp. Under the Geneva Convention only basic provisions were supplied by Germany. We were not required to work (being officers or non-commissioned officers), thus food rations were the bare minimum and often of poor quality. The International Red Cross were the organisation to supplement the needs of prisoners of war. Operating from Geneva it co-ordinated the supply of goods and distributed them to Working Parties, Stalags and Oflags, throughout Germany. The supply was mainly food, but clothing, books, musical instruments, even correspondence courses for professional exams, were organised for some camps. Supplies were often erratic, governed by the war situation. It was obviously not the first priority in the German distribution system, especially as the war progressed, when their transport infrastructure was virtually destroyed by the RAF and the American Air Force.
The daily ration issued by the Germans consisted of about three boiled potatoes (often nearly rotten after months stored in clamps), and a ladle of watery soup (called 'skilly') made with turnips, swede, millet, barley, dried sauerkraut, or peas. These were issued at midday in skilly buckets, from the cookhouse. (There were two cookhouses one British, the other French which also catered for other nationals). The pea soup was the most desirable skilly, and many rows broke out on how the small leftover should be divided. Each barrack had an elected leader and two or three colleagues to assist him in making minor decisions and sharing out any communal chores – the pea soup share out was one of his problems. In our barracks, after a vote by everybody.
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it was decided that the leftover should be shared out equally, pea by pea if necessary!
In the afternoon, a piece of black bread, about an inch or so thick, a small piece of margarine and a spoonful of jam (made from beetroot); sugar or meat paste completed the hard rations. Several pails of ersatz coffee (made from roasted acorns) were usually put into the washhouse boiler for a hot drink later.
The Red Cross food parcel was based on the requirements of one person for a week. The parcels came from various countries, Britain (including Scotland), America, Canada, New Zealand, Argentine (bulk rations), and sometimes France or Belgium. A British parcel contained a number of the following: tin of condensed milk, 2oz tea, tin of cocoa, 4oz sugar, 8oz margarine, tin of biscuits, 8oz jam, marmalade or syrup, 2oz processed cheese, pkt dried fruit or tin of fruit pudding or creamed rice, rolled oats or oatmeal, tin of meat & veg, steak & kidney pudding or other varieties, tin of sausages or meat roll, sometimes a tin of bacon or Yorkshire pudding (instead of cocoa), tin of egg powder, sometimes a carton of sweets, 4oz bar of chocolate, tin of veg (peas, carrots etc.), tin of salmon or pilchards, bar of soap, sometimes pkt of salt, pepper, or mustard. American parcels and some others contained cigarettes, but alternatively there was a separate issue of 50 cigarettes a week if whole parcels were issued. But it could be only 25 a week or none, according to the availability of parcels. (Cigarettes were used throughout the camp as the main currency for trading and racketeering!)
Together, the German ration and a full parcel every week was Utopia for us. Of course there were weeks when we had only half parcels – or no parcels – when distribution was disrupted for a variety of reasons. So 'tinned stuff' had to be saved for hungry times. Most prisoners joined together in two's or more to share and prepare their food. The term for this was 'mucking in' and groups were called 'muckers'. John Bushell and I became 'muckers' and decided that we would prepare our food together everyday.
On arrival we were given a dixie and spoon each, not much for preparing food, cooking, eating and drinking. We had to acquire knives, drinking cups and plates etc. to start up, which we got with cigarettes from fellow 'kriegies' (established prisoners of war). The kriegies would have got the knives from the Russians, the cups and plates would have been made from Red Cross tins by a kriegie skilled in 'tin bashing'. Cups were Canadian 'Maple Leaf' butter tins with a handle made from a strip of tin attached to another strip, which was clamped to the top and bottom of the butter tin. Plates and dishes for heating or frying food, were made from flattened out Scotch biscuit tins turned up at the sides and the corners folded in. Scotch biscuit tins were ideal for all sorts of things, I don't know what we would have done without them!
The cooking stoves, one at each end of the barracks, were controlled by two stokers. The ovens were not used and only the hot plates were in action. Coal dust (compressed into briquettes) used for cooking and strictly rationed for each barrack, meant that the stoves would only operate at lunch time. The
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remainder of the briquettes were allocated to the washhouse, for use in the boiler for 'brewing up' during the day. Because the briquettes were rationed and were under the supervision of the guards, several attempts were made by various barracks to get more by false pretences. One barrack managed to get a spare set of keys to the briquettes store and organised a parade. By marching specially, with their familiar plywood Red Cross container, as if under the control of the guards, they got another issue. But I don't think they managed it twice! Our barrack was luckier in this respect. There was a German Jew in our barrack whose family left Germany before the war. He became a naturalised British subject, joined RAF ground crew and became a member of an Advanced Airfield Unit and was posted to the Island of Kos. He became at POW after the Germans invaded the Island in October 1943 and he was moved to Muhlberg. He could speak fluent German and was able to bribe two of the guards (who, with dogs, patrolled the camp after curfew) to stay away on certain nights from patrolling the French cookhouse. This cookhouse, adjacent to our compound and opposite our barracks, had a large store of briquettes in the cellar which could be accessed by cutting the barbed wire between our compound and the cookhouse. A group of volunteers in the barracks 'stood by' for these arrangements, and when the barrack leader announced, in true RAF parlance, "Ops on tonight", there was great activity.
Prior to the first of these operations, the floor bricks had been removed from under one of the bunks. A pit had been dug and covered up with a false floor made of plywood from Red Cross packing cases. The removed floor bricks were then put back on the plywood, and earth spread in between the bricks. In the gloom of the barracks it was almost impossible to detect any disturbance in the brick floor.
On 'Ops' night, the pit was opened up, kit bags were borrowed and half the night, kitbags full of briquettes removed from the cookhouse cellar, were unloaded almost silently into the pit. Well before daylight the barbed wire was reconnected, the floor and bricks replaced and everybody involved, back in their bunks. The pit, which also housed other things that needed to be hidden, was never discovered, despite many random searches that were carried out. This activity was carried out every few weeks and meant that we were the most 'well provided for' barracks for cooking and the warmest in the whole camp, until the autumn of 1944.
Back to cooking, the stokers maintained strict control over the hot plates so that everyone had an opportunity to heat, boil or fry their food either in the tin, dixie or dish, by moving them in progression across the hottest part of the hot plate. Nevertheless there were accidents, when dishes caught fire and tins exploded (many of the contents like creamed rice hit the roof above!), or food was cremated as the hot plate suddenly went red hot in one spot. BRC bacon when frying could spit hot fat everywhere and those near the stove had to dive for cover!
John and I, like most 'muckers', tried to add as much variety as possible to our meals. We would save barley soup for breakfast and convert it into porridge by adding sugar, or as a pudding at tea time, by adding dried fruit
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etc. Biscuits could be crumbled and mixed with various things. Sometimes our meagre almost inedible bread ration would be mixed with fruit, meat or fish items to make more acceptable bulk. Most of the 'skilly' (soup items), turnip, swede, or millet (bird seed), we consumed straight away, especially if we were hungry. During the period of receiving a weekly full parcel, most of the skilly and some of the dry rations were given to the Russian amputees and later, to the Italians.
Heating water for tea and coffee was difficult. The Army kriegies from the Italian prison camps brought with them a design of a water heater called a 'blower'. It was a fan operated device which, by means of a belt driving the fan at high speed, forced air into a firebox. The firebox was filled with anything burnable (pine cones, chips of wood and cardboard) and a dixie of water placed on top would be boiling in a few minutes. 'Blowers' were made from Red Cross food tins and plywood, mounted on a bed board taken from a bunk. They were hazardous devices and confined to the wash house. Unfortunately the guards did not approve of these contraptions and they frequently destroyed them. In a short time more were made, and then there were even fewer bed boards to some of the bunks!
The more organised way of providing hot drinks, an essential requirement in cold, draughty and damp huts, was to use the boiler in the wash house for communal brews. It was agreed that the issue of ersatz coffee would be reheated this way, and everybody would give up some of their tea, coffee and cocoa ration for regular hot drinks. The boiler-man would shout out "brew up" six or seven times a day and bodies would appear from bunks and everywhere with mugs and dixies for their ration.
Camp roll call ('Appel')
Everyday at 6.30 a.m. the camp was awakened by guards running through the hut shouting "rouse, rouse", and in quick time we had to dress and form up in rows of 'fumf's' (fives), barrack by barrack in the compound. Whilst the Army in their compounds, who were well disciplined, had their count finished in no-time, the RAF were always late and virtually had to be driven out of their barracks. The guards regularly found stragglers still asleep in their bunks, or they were not all lined up in fives. The German unteroffizier in charge (a relatively young guard who had been wounded on the Russian Front, nicknamed 'Blondie' for his flaxen hair), was often at his wit's end. As a result of these events day after day, Blondie would keep the offending barrack standing for hours in the slush and the snow. On one occasion, a member of another barrack brought out a chair for Blondie to sit on whilst this punishment was in progress, which he took in good part. But when, in another situation he drew his pistol, it was time to call this game to an end!
Although roll call was always at 6.30 in the morning, curfew was later in the summer months, up to 9.30 p.m., which made life much more pleasant as it shortened the time we were incarcerated in the huts.
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Not long after I reached the camp, it was probably towards the end of winter, typhus and diptheria broke out and the whole camp was quarantined. Typhus was to be expected at any time. It usually affected the Russians but it could break out anywhere. I can recall being bitten all over my body with bed bugs. Our palliasses were never replaced and were pretty filthy sacks of straw. Living in such overcrowded conditions, lice, fleas, and bedbugs abounded. It was one of the most depressing times I can remember.
Quarantine meant that there was no roll call in the compound. No-one was allowed outside the barracks for about a month, and this was enforced by having an armed guard posted outside each barrack entrance. Supplies were brought to the barracks and there was only the inside latrine to serve 200 or more of us, day and night.
The Honey Cart
When the camp was first built, a sewer system was planned to take the sewage to the river Elbe some miles away. Camp reservoirs were dug to provide the water supply. This plan was soon abandoned, and latrines with concrete septic tanks installed instead. Each barrack had an inside night latrine and to each compound, one or more forty-seater day latrine buildings were added. Inside these there were four rows of boxed seats, each with ten holes, mounted above a large tank. No-one felt alone in a forty-holer!
With more than 20,000 prisoners, the removal of the sewage was a permanent daily task for a small 'army' of the Russian Kommandos. Through a trap door on the ground outside the latrine a long pipe connected to a hand pump was inserted into the decomposed sewage. With every operation of the pump lever, decomposed sewage was squirted into the hopper of a long wooden barrel which was mounted on an ox-cart. The whole design could have been invented in medieval times and was about as labour intensive as in those days. It generated the most foul stench with every pump movement and was christened 'the honey cart'.
Many honey carts were in action daily all over the camp. They leaked and left their signature everywhere, in a trail on their way out of the main gate to the local fields, where they fertilized the crops. Some of the inferior crops we might consume in our skilly in a few months' time!
In my view the condition of the latrines and inadequate method of sewage disposal for over 20,000 prisoners, was beyond belief. The German nation, known for its discipline, thoroughness and cleanliness, had at that time a blot on its character in the way it dealt with prisoners of war in Stalag 1VB – and probably other camps as well.
There was also no provision for toilet paper and we had to resort to all sorts of solutions, Red Cross tin labels and reading books had to be sacrificed. On one occasion after a Red Cross inspection, when we complained about the lack of toilet paper, we did receive some 'toilet paper' from the Germans, in the form of propaganda booklets printed in English. One entitled 'Jews Must
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Live' and the other 'The Who's Who of Jews', which listed all the prominent people in the western world and whether they were Jews or not, including Churchill (who was not listed as a Jew).
Activities in Stalag1VB
With over 7500 British prisoners, there were many talented people – and those who discovered they had talents – in the camp. Some lectured on their subjects in a small hut set aside as a class room; others were actors or musicians (mostly amateur I believe) who produced fantastic shows in a theatre and in the barracks. And then there were the footballers, cricketers and rugby players, who played on pitches available in one of two compounds.
Studies
There was no facility to study for professional exams, mainly I believe, because the British had come to the camp only months before and there was no opportunity to set up a facility at this stage of the war. Also the overcrowding in the barracks made it impossible for serious study, due to the lack of space, and the noise of cooking, washing and general chatter etc. This was made worse in the winter months, because of the extended length of time we were herded together between curfew at night and morning roll call.
I did manage to study several subjects, mainly to keep my mind occupied on matters of general interest to me. These were radio, intermediate maths, photography and psychology. The latter two closed down shortly afterwards, due the removal of the classroom (that is another story!) The lecturer on radio communications was an interesting person, (Robert Crawford), whom I met when I was in the army barracks. He was a BBC engineer in the army and his roll was to assist a well known BBC war reporter, named Ward. In those days, recording events for subsequent broadcasting, especially in front line conditions, needed a qualified engineer to make the records. Ward and Crawford were captured in North Africa at Tobruk in June 1942. Crawford taught me a lot about basic radio and was obviously quite involved in the construction of radios for the camp. There was always some route for getting supplies of essential parts. He told me they were worried that the camp might be overrun by the Russians, before Western Allied Forces could get here, and we might need to be able to communicate with our Allies to get urgent assistance. To prepare for such an event they had built a transmitter, and had already selected a site for it. They had also acquired a starter motor from a Messerschmitt 'plane to generate the power for it! (Fortunately, in the end, events did not require such action).
Theatre
It was generally accepted that the camp theatre was a remarkable achievement. It provided first class entertainment and raised morale for everyone in the camp. A spare barrack was found for the purpose. The brick
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floor was dug out and the bricks replaced in tiers for the seating, so that the stage could be seen by everyone. A dimmer switch was acquired for better control of stage lighting.
The theatre group was in operation before I arrived and was now in full swing. With food parcels arriving more regularly, and the longer and warmer days of spring and summer ahead, our daily lives became more bearable in the dim, dismal, damp and dilapidated surroundings of the camp. The Second Front was expected soon and with an early prospect to the end of the war, spirits were high. This reflected in the energies of the theatre group, both in variety shows and straight plays, and the appreciation of the audiences.
My first 'visit to the theatre', named the 'Empire', was only a few days after I arrived. The ticket was purchased with cigarettes, but I can't remember how many. It was a variety show entitled 'Muhlberg Melodies of 1944' a totally internally written production. The female impersonations were fantastic, impressing seasoned kriegies and especially me, a newcomber to camp life. The theatre 'props' were wizards at making costumes from old blankets etc., stage scenery and furniture from Red Cross boxes and plywood crates. Even the production of suits of armour was not beyond them. The 'tin bashers' got busy with Red Cross tins, and by clever lighting with green tinted bulbs, were able to produce very realistic results.
The variety group produced several shows, some with leading camp comics, like 'Music in the Cage', 'Lets Raes a Laugh', Knee-deep' and 'Splash'. Musical Comedies such as 'Springtime for Jennifer' with lyrics and music both written by the leader of the orchestra. The variety shows were alternated with straight plays presented by 'The Cads'. Each one seemed better than the previous production. Such shows were 'Dover Road', 'The Man Who Came to Dinner', 'You Can't Take It With You' and 'The Barretts of Wimpole Street'.
There were light classical orchestras and more serious music, also dance and swing band shows. The latter participated in shows in the barracks providing suitable music. At leading football matches, boxing bouts and on Sunday afternoons a military band provided entertainment.
On some Sundays in the Empire, the Experimental Theatre Group presented some unusual plays based on melodrama and plays requiring 'audience participation'. One I remember called 'Waiting for Lefty' (about rebellious cab drivers) was highly successful. In this play the audience, together with members of the cast (who, unknown to us, were 'planted' amongst the audience) got involved in a trade union strike. It resulted in the whole audience, quite spontaneously, standing up and shouting 'Strike, Strike!' and 'Lefty' the ring leader being shot dead!
Also on Sundays, church services were held in the theatre, and the Padre (a New Zealander) organised entertainment and talks on some Sunday afternoons.
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Another organised event that the theatre was used for was a remarkable exhibition of pendulum clocks. I presume pendulum clocks were chosen because they operated by weights and not springs. All these clocks were constructed from flattened Red Cross food tins, which were cut into the various gears and other parts necessary to produce and display the correct time.
Barrack (hut) entertainment
Hut shows were very popular and were introduced in the evening in the summer months when curfew was extended. Stage sets were erected from the hut seating and structures brought in for the purpose. Such industry gave a feeling of involvement and this added to the enjoyment of the show that followed. Radio plays were very novel, being performed behind a curtain and in broadcasting style with all the sound effects. With the rest of the hut in semi-darkness (not difficult in a poorly lit hut) the right atmosphere was achieved, for such plays as 'The Tale of Two Cities', 'Ghost Train' and 'Pygmalion'.
On other winter evenings a series of talks were given on such subjects as 'Big Game Hunting', 'North West Frontier' and 'Russia'. Chaps with personal experiences such as 'HM Prisons' by an ex Prison Warder, an interesting one for us Kreigies! And a talk by a former Undertaker on some of his more gruesome situations. We also had two demonstrations of hypnotism, one by a Dutch therapist who practised in an Indonesian hospital, and another who did it purely for entertainment and sent us into fits of laughter, when he got one of the audience who knew nothing about the subject, to give us a talk on 'how to paint and decorate a room'. But the most impressive demonstration of all was when two Fakirs from the Indian Army demonstrated the results of self hypnosis. They reduced their heart beats until when cut they did not bleed, then over their stomachs they pinched two thick folds of skin and pierced them with spikes. When they pulled the spikes out there was no trace of bleeding. Their second demonstration was even more amazing. They broke glass bottles on the floor and when there was enough broken glass, one laid on it, back down, and the other stood momentarily on his chest. You could hear the crunch of glass under his back! Again when he got up there was no trace of bleeding.
Another popular activity in the winter months was playing cards. This was mostly contract bridge, a game I learned to play. It became an obsession for some partners and was played almost uninterrupted all day and sometimes into the night, only stopping to eat! This was possible with the larger groups of 'muckers', as cooking etc and playing cards, was shared on a rota basis.
Sport
The most active and universal sport in the camp was soccer and this was carried on throughout the day, but mostly in the evening during the summer months. I understood that football equipment was brought from Italy by the
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Army POWs. Each hut had its own team named after the 1st. Division names in Britain. Our hut's team was Blackburn Rovers and the degree of interest was amazing. Our team had its own colours and was well supported by the hut inmates. When we played in the League matches discussion reached tremendous heights. I think the knock-out cup was the most exciting of all. Semi-finals and final games were played off on Saturday afternoons as it was the main feature of the weekend. Newport County was by far the leading light in this competition and eventually won the Cup. At Easter, Whitsun and August Bank Holiday there gala matches such as England versus Scotland, Army v RAF, Amateurs v Professionals. The standard of play was very high indeed, and teams selected from several thousand possible players gave a good account of themselves. Other feature matches were introduced when a number of 'Clubs' were formed for chaps living in the same area, such examples were 'London Club', 'Heather Club', 'Notts & Derby Club', 'Kent Club', 'Invicta Club' and 'Lincolnshire Poacher'. All the clubs had badges, made by Russians, out of aluminium dixies and the clubs advertised their activities on wall posters. The Germans panicked when they saw the 'Lincolnshire Poacher' and issued a general warning that anyone caught poaching could risk being shot!
Other sporting activities
There was a Rugby League and they played their important games on Sundays. Perhaps the most notable members were the 'Springboks' and the 'Anzacs', and many a time blood was drawn between these two hefty teams.
During the cricket season, each hut entered a team and the matches were played off on similar lines to soccer and rugby, the main feature being a test match played between England v Australia or South Africa, over the weekend. Some of these were very close ending matches, England on one occasion beating Australia by a few runs only.
Two athletic matches were held and prior to the events, every morning and evening contestants could be seen on the track training with great zeal. (The track was the perimeter of the football pitch, an area many kreigies used every day to walk round for general exercise). Boxing also was a camp-organised sport and several times exhibitions, as well as competitive bouts, were carried out in a well built ring in one of the compounds.
The Canadians were very keen on basketball and softball, whilst vollyball was played by one and all. Others took up weight lifting and organised P.T. Many of the games were between the British and other Nationals such as the French, Dutch, Russians and Poles; the latter two excelled at volley ball, the former had a tough struggle when playing us at soccer - after all it was our national game (in those days).
There was no lack of exercise at 1VB. The outdoor activity during the summer months, coupled with a good supply of Red Cross food parcels and encouraging news on the war front, kept us all in good spirits at that time. But of course all this was no compensation for the abysmal living conditions and
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the lack of freedom we all experienced, especially when you are only in your early twenties.
Trading
I have already mentioned that NCO's were not paid any service pay in prison camps. The Russian working parties were paid lagermarks, but these were relatively worthless. There was a Russian canteen where items could be purchased but there was relatively nothing to buy. But items could be exchanged or bought and sold with cigarettes. Thus cigarettes became the camp currency and its liquidity. There was a rate that depended upon the amount of spare Red Cross food that was available, compared with how plentiful were the Red Cross cigarettes and cigarettes received in private parcels. In the summer of 1944 spare food was more plentiful, thus the cigarette rate was low – in the winter the position was reversed. The Russian canteen became the flea market (in more ways than one) where anything could be bought and sold or exchanged. The Italians, who became prisoners with their complete kit of clothes and utensils, were seriously short of food and were able to sell clothing, knives, scissors etc. for basic food. They even took on tailoring jobs for food and cigarettes. The Russians were in the best positions to trade because they were able to contact the farm workers in the fields and farms, exchange cigarettes and coffee for bread and small items necessary for day to day living. They would conceal these in their trousers, not very hygienic for the bread! I understand that the Russians who worked on the 'honeycarts' were able to hide bread in the opening of the 'honeycard' barrel (when they were empty!), on their way back to camp.
An event that I witnessed one evening not long before curfew: a British chap had filled an empty cigarette packet with earth, except for ten cigarette stubs at the end, to represent a full packet. He then, in the half-light through the wire of the Russian compound, exchanged it for a long loaf of crusty bread. Back in the hut he was full of his success in duping the Russian, until he discovered the side of the loaf had been sliced off, the whole of the inside hollowed out and filled with damp rags to give the loaf weight, and the side cleverly replaced with thin spills of wood to hold it in place! I often wonder who had the better deal . . .
On some evenings, the same RAF (German Jewish) POW who organised the coal stealing from the French cookhouse, would bring into the hut a German guard complete with rifle, who was on patrol inside the camp. The guard would stand in the middle of the hut whilst the gasmask case on his back (now minus its gasmask) was opened. Inside he had toothbrushes, razors, razor blades, combs etc. to trade for cigarettes, coffee and chocolate. Not every German soldier was waging war to the death!
I also remember a Dutch POW, still resplendent in his uniform with tassels and gold braid. The Dutch, until the Second Front, were well served with IRC food and parcels from home. This chap obviously, like many Dutch very commercially minded, used to appear regularly in the huts carrying a large tray of goods which he was trading for cigarettes.
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Escaping
Planning to escape was a very clandestine business, and unless you were personally involved you didn't know much about it. However there was an escape committee who would assist those who wished to 'have a go'.
There was one mass escape planned in the camp by the RAF and from the RAF compound. It was a very close kept secret, only known to those involved. A hut used as a 'school' for various classes was chosen. This hut was without foundations and raised on blocks. Also it was only a short distance from the camp boundary barbed wire on the north side. The first move was to ask the Germans for permission for us to put a mound of earth around the perimeter of the hut "to prevent footballs etc. from being kicked underneath it." A hatch was then cut into the floor of one of the classrooms, from which a tunnel was dug to the outer wire. The earth dug out was packed tightly, into the now enclosed space, below the hut. As the distance from the hut to the field outside the wire was fairly short, the space was sufficient, and did not need a complicated system of distributing the earth elsewhere. Also concealment was less complicated as classes were still being carried out in other rooms as before. I for one, who attended classes there, did not know what was going on and neither did the Germans. Bed-boards were used to shore up the sides of the tunnel and the hut wiring was tapped for lighting it. The bed-boards would have been taken bit by bit from bunks in various barracks. As boards were already being consumed as firewood, or for blowers etc., it was almost accepted that this was the natural erosion of the place. Although, for those who slept in the middle and lower bunks, more and more loops of palliasse were hanging down between bed-boards from the upper bunk.
The tunnel was completed in late summer, and the day before the planned night breakout, a tractor towing a harvester, cropping the corn in this field, tipped into the tunnel exit which was just below the level of the field. Immediately all hell broke loose as Feldwebel 'Piccolo Pete' our new German compound watchdog, appeared on the scene. Piccolo Pete was a nasty, small, bow legged fellow, who took over after Blondie was posted elsewhere. He consistently made our lives a misery, making raids on our barracks without warning. He would appear with guards to block each end of the hut. We would then be searched and driven out immediately into the compound, while he and his posse of guards turned over the bunks and prodded the floor and everywhere with picks, looking for signs of tunnels, escape material, blowers, radios etc.
Well, Piccolo Pete was in his element. The following morning, he turned up with the Russians and their cavalcade of honey carts, and they emptied our latrines and forty-holer of sewage and poured it into the tunnel. Of course classes were closed at the hut and we never went near it again!
Another means of escape, usually through our own Escape Committee and sometimes with the help of the French Escape Committee, was achieved by exchanging identity with other prisoners who were on working parties. These
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were usually army privates who, under the Geneva Convention, could be employed by the Germans in non war related industries. These industries around 1VB would be mostly in farming. New British POWs were often 'processed' through 1VB, as it was also a registration camp and where new prisoners could be topped up with essential clothing. These prisoners would be approached by the Escape Committee and offered exchanges. They would have the benefit of not having to work and the NCO's would have the chance to escape, which would be less risky than trying to escape from 'behind the wire' at 1VB. Both parties would of course lose their own identities during this time.
All those in 1VB who took this on, were given new identity papers, forged passes, travel documents, maps and money etc. In my view they would have needed, as a minimum, a good knowledge of German and know how to live rough, as they would be hundreds of miles away from any territory where they could expect help from anyone. To my knowledge nearly all those in 1VB who escaped were recaptured, returned to the camp, and given 14 days or more solitary confinement in the 'cooler' on basic rations. One chap who gave us a talk on his experiences, on having reached a railway siding, found that none of the railway wagons had destinations for his chosen route. But with a bit of quick thinking, he decided it would help the British war effort if he collected all the destination cards from the wagons, gave them a thorough shuffle, and put them all back!
Geoff Taylor who wrote the book 'Piece of Cake' about prison life in 1VB, tells his story about attempting an escape by stealing a JU88 'plane from Lonnewitz nightfighter training airfield near 1VB. He and a colleague used the French and British escape committees to do an exchange with two French arbeit kommandos. They got on to the airfield and into a JU88, only to be caught red handed by a Luftwaffe guard. Luckily they were wearing French uniform and Geoff's colleague answered the challenge in French. The guard, thinking they were French farm workers from a nearby village, chastened them and told them to clear off, which they did at a rate of knots! After some time trying to find another aircraft that wasn't locked, and then running out of food, they walked back into the camp with hardly a challenge.
After the murder (on the orders of Hitler) of fifty RAF escapees from Stalag Luft3 in March 1944 became known, the Germans gave out an official warning to all camps. It said that because of increasing action of commando forces in Germany, many places were 'no go' areas and anyone entering them would be shot on sight. Escaping prisoners were at risk, and to remember "escaping was no longer a British sport".
About the same time, a message was received from the British Government via the BBC news, which said it was no longer the duty of prisoners of war to try to escape(!)
Our mail and news in Stalag1VB
Mail
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We were allowed to write one letter and two postcards a month, so I had to ration them between family and friends over the 15 months I was a prisoner. But I received 111 letters and about 6 or 7 parcels over the period. Everybody moaned in the hut every time my name and number (098 Wilson) was called out – 'what, not him again!'
Letters to UK and from Germany took 2 1/2 to 3 months each way, so a reply could take almost 6 months. The first letter I received after being shot down took 5 months, and the first letter from my parents took 6 months. Mail arrived fairly consistently after that, 43 by September 1944, 110 by January 1945 and then only one, before I was liberated in April 1945.
My first parcel took 7 months to reach me. It was from home and contained 500 cigarettes – a fortune either as cigarettes or currency. My second and third contained books – fiction, biographies, technical drawing and – travel! My fourth, from home, contained clothing. Two previous parcels had been sent but never received. I had two further parcels of cigarettes and, I believe, some chocolate.
I also received a parcel of books from the Red Cross in which they had sent two books I had asked for, one on meteorology and the other on astronomy. I remember that I found great interest in the astronomy book. Stalag 1VB being located away from the town in flat countryside, with no lights on late in the evening, presented an ideal situation for viewing the night sky, even through the few windows available. With my knowledge of the star constellations in the northern hemisphere, required for astro-navigational purposes, I was able to identify the only star city outside our own galaxy visible to the naked eye – the nebula in Andromeda near the constellation of Cassiopeia in the north-eastern sky. It gave me a great feeling of space and freedom away from my dismal surroundings.
In my first letter home from Stalag 1VB on 2 February 1944, I told my parents that our 'plane had caught fire and I had to bale out. (I did not say how or where, as this might have stopped the German censors from sending the letter on). I also told them John Bushell was with me. We knew that Laurie Underwood and George Griffiths had survived but there was no news of the others. I asked them to send me underclothes, socks, toothpaste, cigarettes, and photographs.
My letters started with mixed emotions – I was glad I had survived and without injury. Also at that time we were receiving weekly food parcels and the camp was providing entertainment with fairly frequent shows in the Empire theatre. But the winter weather was miserable with slush and mud everywhere, and with only lashed-up clogs to wear, there was no incentive to walk round the circuit of the 'football pitch'. Being incarcerated in these barracks during the long winter days was punishment indeed. Writing letters without receiving any in return, became a burden, and it was not until I received my first letter in June did I brighten up. By then the Second Front had commenced, the days were longer, sunny and warm, outside activities had started, and the parcels
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were still arriving weekly. As the D Day invasion succeeded, a wave of optimism swept the camp. 'Home by Christmas' was the cry. Of course we were young kriegies and did not realise that old kriegies had made this cry for the last three or four years already!
As the year advanced, France was liberated, Italy had capitulated, everybody was at their high point and our letters home reflected this mood. But the success of the war on the ground and in the air across Europe, was having its effect on the German transport system, and our RC food parcel deliveries started to become irregular. Setbacks, at Arnhem in Holland and the Battle of the Bulge in Belgium, ensured that the war would continue into the Spring of 1945 and would make worse our conditions in the prison camp.
In the autumn and winter of 1944 parcels were reduced to a half and some weeks there were none. Coal for heating and cooking was reduced and as more prisoners came into the camp it became excessively overcrowded. My letters did not mention this, and said our Christmas was fine with a RC parcel out of the blue, which enabled us to dodge up some kind of festivities with concocted mince pies (don't ask!) and Christmas pudding. Although we were able to organise 'a dance' for New Year's Day, we entered January 1945 with the worst conditions we had experienced so far in 1VB.
News
News about the progress of the war was the very life blood of every prisoner. As the war moved towards its end, events around us began to coincide with the news we received.
We were lucky in 1VB inasmuch as the Army chaps had managed to bring their radios (in pieces) from Italy, concealed down their trousers, between their legs etc.! The RAF had managed to bribe the guards for parts to assemble their radio. So both compounds had radios and were able to get BBC news everyday. Despite random searches by Picolo Pete and others, they were never discovered.
The news was taken down in shorthand and transcribed so that every barrack leader could read it out after evening curfew. The leader would call for lookouts to see the outside was clear of roving patrols and the hut would remain in complete silence whilst the bulletin was read out. Thus throughout our time in 1VB we were well informed about events, except on D Day when the Germans told us first! That day everyone went wild. Many were making crazy forecasts about the date when the war would end, and when it didn't, they were unceremoniously carried to the stagnant reservoir and thrown in.
About this time Italy capitulated, but Germany continued to fight in Italy. The Italian Army, overnight became POWs and several thousand of them arrived at the camp complete with all their kit. They were in a terrible state, as the Italians were despised by every nation. Italy had declared war on England when we were 'on our knees' after Dunkirk; thus they were also enemies of Russia and all occupied nations. Now they were enemies of Germany. And
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the British Army POWs in 1VB, not long ago treated abysmally as POWs of the Italians, didn't think much of them either. They were soon starving, with poor rations, trading their kit for food, begging alongside the Russian amputees for surplus skilly and scraps.
In addition to the news we got from the radio, the Germans supplied a weekly newspaper called 'The Camp'. I do not know how many they distributed but I managed to keep three copies. These did not really supplement the BBC news, as they were a week or so out of date and were really propaganda papers. Their war reports never mentioned Allied successes. They printed lots of bland articles taken from recent British newspapers and football league results. Their leader articles were loaded with propaganda. However the 30 July 1944 edition was interesting, as it covered the 20 July bomb plot to kill Hitler. It showed a picture of Hitler, apparently uninjured after the attempt on his life, talking to Mussolini. It announced [italics] "that the plot by a criminal clique of German Officers had completely collapsed. The ringleaders either committed suicide after the outrage or were shot by battalions of the army. Among those executed was the manipulator of the explosive, Col. Count von Stauffenberg” [/italics]. Incidently [sic] he is now remembered as a hero by the German nation and a street in Berlin is named after him: "Stauffenbergstrasse".
This edition of The Camp also featured the launching of the V1 (flying bomb) weapons on London. These were followed by the V2 rockets and continued from their launching sites in Holland, mostly on the London area and Antwerp (a major Port for the British and Canadian armies on the North European Front), almost until the end the war. These weapons were totally indiscriminate and some fell in Essex, many of them in the Ilford/Romford area where my parents lived. One V2 fell in the road next to Joydon Drive, wiping out half-a-dozen houses and their occupants. Luckily my parents and two sisters had evacuated to Brighton during this onslaught. But our house was damaged and had to be patched up until after the war, when it was repaired. All this was unknown to me as my parents would not have mentioned it, and in any case mail might have been lost or arrived too late for me to receive it.
There was heavy fighting in Normandy after D Day and the German press made the most of it. At Caen, the first major city, the British and the Canadians suffered very heavy casualties, and the Americans on the Cherbourg Peninsular were held up for a time capturing the Port of Cherbourg. It was about five weeks before Caen fell, and the city was almost demolished by Bomber Command. But the fighting drew in much of the German armour. At this time the American forces made great headway in the Cherbourg Peninsular, swept around Caen to Fallaise to form a pincer movement. The Germans realising they could be trapped, started to withdraw their tanks, through what became to be known as the 'Fallaise Gap'. The RAF with their rocket firing Typhoon fighter bombers had a heyday destroying both troops and tanks. Eventually the Germans discarded much of their equipment and went helter-skelter to cross the river Seine to avoid capture. At this time the landing of Allied troops in Southern France had taken place and the Germans had decided to evacuate their troops from France.
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The German 7th Army was smashed at Fallaise with a loss of 250,000 troops (killed or captured), although a similar number managed to get away. Soon after, an uprising took place in Paris and the city was liberated by the French Second Armoured Division on the 25 August 1944, almost without damage. By 3 & 4 Sept 1944 the Allies had entered Belgium and Holland, and most of France was clear. We had followed all this news on the BBC throughout this time, and the camp was in high spirits.
Now aerial activity was recommencing over Germany. (The bombing of Berlin, Leipzig and other cities during the winter months had been suspended so that Bomber Command could assist with the Second Front. They were now released from this activity and night bombing restarted). Airfields were opened up in France and fighter and fighter bomber squadrons, British and American, moved to them. American Mustangs were fitted with auxillary [sic] fuel tanks and were able to support the squadrons of their Flying Fortresses all the way to Berlin and further east. Now, in the height of summer, we were able to see these raids at 30-40,000 feet, as hundreds of glinting specks in the sunlight and streaks of contrails in the sky. From now on the Allied air forces controlled the sky. Both strategic and industrial German cities were bombed night and day and their roads and railways were under attack from dawn until dusk.
In August 1944 on the Eastern Front the Russians were advancing on Warsaw. The Polish patriots believing that the Russians would come to their aid started an uprising in Warsaw. The patriots were not of the same 'political faith' as Stalin, and the Russian forces were ordered to hold off. Not only did the Russians hold off, they refused to allow the RAF to refuel in Russian territory and thus prevented them from dropping supplies to the Poles. The uprising lasted into September. The German SS and the German Ukrainian army perpetrated terrible atrocities in Warsaw, murdering thousands of civilians including women and children. As they murdered them they burnt their areas of the city to the ground. Eventually the whole city was virtually destroyed.
Sometime in late October or November a long column of young Polish women and children from Warsaw reached our camp and were housed in the transit compound adjacent to the RAF compound. They were in a terrible condition. These young people, many boys of 7 or 8 and girls of 16 years of age upwards, caught up in the patriot uprising, were serving as nurses, runners etc. They had been 'taken prisoner' and brought here by cattle truck and by marching westwards. They had no food or spare clothing and were desperate for help. The transit compound was filthy, dilapidated, and with few latrines. It was almost unbelievable that the Germans could treat them as they did. Most of the nationalities in the camp spent endless time along the wire between the compounds, looking at these young women who despite their condition were cheerful and sang Polish songs, often through the night. Also of course most prisoners had not seen a female form for years, and to see so many had awakened long forgotten aspirations! A number of RAF were Polish, and there was a fair amount of communication with the women through the wire, almost to the level of romance. Although at the time we were getting short of food
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and had limited amount of clothing, food and clothing was given to them. After all this excitement, one morning at roll call the adjacent compound was empty, the Polish women had gone to – I know not where. It was not until January 1945 that the Russians occupied Warsaw in their advance towards Germany.
After reaching the borders of Holland, the Allies decided a rapid crossing of the river Rhine into Northern Germany would shorten the war by several months. It was planned to drop airborne troops to capture the Arnhem bridge across the Rhine in Holland, and hold it for a few days until armoured divisions from the south broke through. The 700 troops of the British 1st Airborne Division dropped in Arnhem, were not joined by those dropped at Oosterbeek, and were thus isolated at the northern end of the bridge. The armoured divisions from the south were not able to reach the bridge in time and the 1st. Airborne fought to a standstill at Arnhem, having run out of ammunition. They had many casualties and all those still alive were taken prisoner, together with those from Oosterbeek who were unable to get back across the Rhine. The 1st. Airborne were regarded as heroes by the British and Germans alike. After several weeks walking and travelling in cattle trucks, many arrived at Stalag 1VB in an exhausted condition, but nevertheless they marched into the camp almost as if they were on parade. After a short stay for registration etc., most were moved out, to working parties, elsewhere.
The failure at Arnhem was a blow to our optimism about the rapid end of the war and we settled back in our minds to the fact we would see Christmas through in 'Kreigyland'.
December arrived and although Bomber Command had resumed its bombing deep into Germany, taking advantage of the long winter nights, not much had happened on the Western Front since Arnhem. Then to everyone's surprise General von Rundstedt's forces launched a massive strike into the American lines in the Ardennes on 16 December 1944. The 106th American Infantry Division came directly from America and had not been exposed to any action before. The Ardennes was a heavily forested area now under snow and 106th was probably thinking more about Christmas than a possible blitzkrieg. The Germans took thousands of prisoners initially, made deep inroads into Belgium, and the Port of Antwerp was under threat. It took some time for the Americans to halt the advance, and they were not helped by the bad weather, as initially air strikes could not be carried out against the German armour. Eventually the battle, known as 'The Battle of the Bulge', was won at great cost to the Germans, who had run out of fuel. There were many prisoners on both sides. As a result, Stalag 1VB was inundated with new American POWs. They arrived on Christmas Eve, the most dispirited group you would ever wish to see, suffering from dysentery and frostbite. The were starving, dirty, shivering, exhausted men. We had to sleep 2 or 3 to a bunk to accommodate the huge intake, and during the night how we dealt with men who had dysentery, with only one inside latrine, I cannot (or wish to) remember. Luckily, as for food, there was an unexpected issue of RC parcels, which to some extent 'saved the day' – it was Christmas Day after all!
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Some interesting comments were made to me at this time by some American prisoners. One said "Only three weeks ago I was in California where I could eat as much chicken as I liked for a dollar". Another complained that on being taken prisoner a German frisked him and took 60 'D Bars' (60 bars of chocolate) from him! Several said that some prisoners were mown down by a machine gun after they had surrendered. (There was a German SS atrocity, when some 86 Americans were shot, at that time.)
The Americans were with us for about two weeks. Then they were moved out to various working parties and our overcrowding returned to normal proportions! BBC news about the Western Front remained quiet, but we all brightened up when we learned about the Russians' sensational advance from the Vistula to the Oder rivers. This was the only news that made life tolerable in January 1945, after extreme cold and damp in the barracks and very little food.
News of events inside Stalag1VB
News was formulated by budding journalists and artists. A weekly newspaper designed like a normal broadsheet, with headlines, pictures and standard columns, was produced in manuscript. The pictures, portraits and cartoons were all hand drawn or painted. The pages were displayed side by side and affixed to a board made from a Red Cross crate which was moved from barrack to barrack each day. The content would cover outdoor sports events, the Empire theatre, and any topic of interest, gossip etc. When the RAF came from Dulag Luft Transit Camp with a Red Cross issue of pyjamas, this hit the headlines: RAF ARRIVE WITH PYJAMAS – a great source of amusement for the army POWs. A cartoon was published showing a RAF chap coming down by parachute, after being shot down, complete with his own Red Cross food parcel!
The French, the other major national in 1VB
The British in 1943-45 were the greatest number of POWs in the camp, but the French were the prisoners who had been there the longest (1939-45) and were the most involved during this time. They had helped to build the camp in 1939 and were well established with the Germans (I suppose that as the Germans were occupying their country it was politic to do so).
They ran the hospital, one of the cookhouses, did all the clerical work involved in prisoners' records within the German administration, and maintained the POW cemetery at Neuburxdorf, near Muhlberg. Over the years they organised many religious parades. They had a good canteen, university, and theatre which produced plays and musicals. But their greatest skill seemed to be in producing exhibitions and models. I saw two exhibitions – 'Paris' and the other on 'Mountaineering'. Their models were the last word in craftmanship.
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They lived well on the whole, getting black market food more easily than us. Their connections were well established long before we arrived. They seemed to have an 'ownership' of 1VB
British casualties in 1VB
There were about 60 British deaths. Most of these would be due to illness (a result of unhygienic living conditions and an irregular supply of Red Cross food, our mainstay for reasonable health) but there were three who were shot by guards, one suicide, and one accident.
Details of those who were shot:-
One caught stealing coal at night.
One seen trying to pick wild strawberries beyond the trip wire.
One caught at night trying to return over the compound wire to his solitary confinement cell.
The suicide hanged himself in the washhouse.
The accident was caused by a pilot from the nearby night fighter training airfield at Lonnewitz. He 'shot up' the camp at low level and hit two prisoners who were taking exercise walking round the compound football pitch. One was killed and the other seriously injured. The pilot was subsequently court marshalled.
All of these man had military funerals and were buried in a separate part of the Neuburxdorf cemetery. After the war they were re-interred in the 1939-45 Berlin War Cemetery.
My time ends in Stalag1VB
At the end of January 1945 the Germans, having received confirmation of my commission from the Air Ministry, arranged for my transfer to Oflag V11B in Bavaria. I knew from the letters I had received from home that I had been commissioned as long ago as 1 December 1944 and was now a Flying Officer, having been promoted automatically after six months. I was surprised that the Germans would bother to arrange this transfer, as the war could not last much longer. I had believed the move would be to Stalag Luft 3 in Poland, but I hadn't known the Russian advance had already forced the Germans to evacuate the whole of Luft 3 and march westwards.
I was sorry that I would have to leave behind Johnny Bushell (my mucker!), as we had been good friends throughout my period at 1VB, but I knew he would join another group after I had left. We agreed that we would have a grand party for 'us survivors' after the war.
The inmates of Stalag1VB had a hard time after I had left, with few Red Cross parcels, German rations cut and little heating. The theatre had closed down,
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and no doubt the outside activities curtailed during the winter period. I believe it was because of these conditions that John contracted tuberculosis after the war. In the last few weeks at the camp there had been much aerial activity at low level from American Mustangs, who were shooting up everything, including POW wood collecting parties in the woods nearby. So much so that the Germans agreed to have 'POW' painted on some of the roofs of the barracks.
On 23 April 1945 Russian Cossacks on horses, brandishing pistols and cutlasses, galloped down the main road in the camp, their tanks ripping through the barbed wire. Liberation day had arrived! The German guards, their families and some Polish POWs (who were no friends of the Russians) had evacuated the camp in buses the day before. I believe the Russians caught up with them with the ultimate consequences of being overrun by an advancing army.
The Russians occupied the German barracks and administration area, from which the noise of drunken parties could be heard for days. I understand that everything was chaotic in the camp – water and power stopped, latrines remained un-emptied, and there was no food distribution. Everybody had to forage for food etc. from the farms around, where many of the terrified German civilians were either dead (killed or committed suicide) or still hiding in their cellars.
Eventually the Russians organised a column to evacuate the camp to Reisa, by crossing the river Elbe at Strehla, alongside a general trek of German refugees and liberated workers (now displaced persons), heading west.
In Reisa, the Russians tried to register all the British ex POWs. They refused, with a display of arms, to allow some American troops with trucks to evacuate the British across the river Mulde (which the advancing American Army had reached). The British were now, in effect, 'prisoners of the Russians' whilst the Russians tried to trade them for Russian POWs released by the Americans. As a result of the general chaos that developed, from the time the camp was liberated until now, many British (including Johnny Bushell and friends) had 'made a run for it,' stealing bicycles and carts etc., in a move to get across a collapsed railway bridge over the river Mulde. The Americans were waiting on the other side with trucks to take them to Leipzig. For many British who remained with the Russians, repatriation took several weeks.
Departure for OflagV11B, Eichstatt, Bavaria
On 2 February 1945, exactly one year since I had arrived, I said goodbye to 1VB with its 'not so pearly gates' and sinister blackish watchtower.
In a party of five RAF and RAAF chaps and three guards, we set out for OflagV11B, Eichstatt, Bavaria. It was a harrowing time to be travelling on the German railways. The Russians, in their rapid advance eastwards, had brough about many German refugees travelling to the west, and the railways
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were heavily congested with them. To make matters worse the Allied air forces were bombing and strafing the roads and railways around the clock.
I had thought travelling like a civilian, and not in the usual 'cattle trucks', would make it a reasonable journey, especially having spent a year incarcerated in 1VB, but I was wrong. The first train we caught from the nearby junction was very late and literally crawled all the way to Chemnitz, where we waited seven hours for our next connection. We were waiting for a train to Nurnberg on a platform crowded with refugees, all with bundles of clothing and packs. Also there were many hospital cases of wounded soldiers about, looking generally very will and in poor health, pale and thin specimens, all of them. Chemnitz was regarded as a hospital centre and had not been bombed. Up until now the junction was still intact, the station was still selling refreshments (just a watery beer), but had no bookstalls or buffet. The refugees had already waited hours for a train and now there was another delay of 70 minutes. They took it without a murmur and just moved back from the platform edge yet another time. I suppose they had given up! On the other hand, on the opposite track, military trains loaded with panzer troops were passing through, no doubt destined for the Eastern Front. I wondered where they would be in a few days time! . . .
We left Chemnitz, just 10 days or so before the town was heavily bombed, alongside Dresden, for the first time. I and my four companions had certainly witnessed the current use of Chemnitz as a busy rail junction for German armour.
I learned later, that at the Yalta Conference on 4 February 1945, the Allies (Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin) had agreed to assist the Russian advance by bombing important rail heads, through which the German armour would pass to the Eastern Front. These rail heads were Leipzig, Chemnitz and Dresden. Unfortunately Dresden suffered a high loss of life as a result of the heavy bombing, and the firestorm that developed due to the many medieval buildings in the town.
After leaving Chemnitz, we continued southward at a very slow pace, and eventually reached Plauen. We arrived at midnight and our next train left at 5am. This station had taken a packet of bombing and we had five hours of very draughty waiting. The civilians (refugees) were in the same position as ourselves, and they had no shelter or anything to warm them. It seems that a youth movement, girls and boys about ten years old and resident in the town, had been recruited to help these people in their plight, with their baggage or in any other way, throughout this time. It was clear that a sense of emergency was developing, as the Russians neared the German homeland, and they were employing every measure to help their war effort. But what drudgery, and to what avail!
Hof was our next port of call. We got there about 9.30am and as there was another long wait, our guards managed to get a hut with a stove in it, on which we were able to brew some coffee with our bread. This made all the difference and we felt alive again. It was about 5pm that day before we moved
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on. The train was packed and more and more people were on the move, all having waited many hours for connections. It was clear that the railways were in complete disarray. The continuous bombing had made its mark and we were lucky we had not experienced any so far. We had a quick change of trains at 7pm, but what a carriage we had! The train had been strafed, it had no windows at all, and we froze all the way to Nurnberg, which we did not reach until twelve midnight. Here the maelstrom of refugees continued and the station was almost in darkness. We were led virtually by the nose to an air-raid shelter. It was an excellent shelter with air conditioning, and plenty of warmth. Whether there was an air-raid or not I do not know but it was a joy to thaw out. It was another six hours before we moved on again.
From this point I have not recorded the details of the rest of my journey, but OflagV11B was about 50 miles further south, and only a few miles north of the Danube.
OflagV11B, Eichstatt, Bavaria
We arrived at OflagV11B on the forth [sic] or fifth of February 1945. The camp was situated in a small valley running east-west. About a mile away to the south was a road running parallel to the camp. Beyond the road were hills forested with pines and other trees. On the north side was another road, running alongside the camp. Rising from this road was a craggy area, with pine trees scattered along its ridge. It was a very pretty location. What a contrast to Stalag 1VB, with its look of 'Siberia' on my arrival there, a year before.
The camp housed about 1500 officer POWs, all army, from the British Commonwealth (plus now five RAF and RAAF), not like Stalag V1B which had over 20,000 POWs from many nations. The camp was divided into two sections called Upper and Lower camps, separated by a football pitch and an ice hockey ground laid out by the prisoners themselves. The Upper camp was a pre-war built set of barracks with good sanitation and stoves in each room. The Lower camp comprised of five wooden huts with separate room areas and brick stoves, but the sanitation was not as good as the Upper section. Nevertheless the whole camp was like a four-star hotel compared with 1VB. Tom Nelson (also a RAF navigator) and I were in the Lower camp, but when ever possible we used the normal private flush toilets of the Upper camp. I can remember that I used to make special journeys to the toilets in the Upper camp to enjoy the delights of being in a situation which was just like home!
We were in a hut with a portion divided off as a room. We had two sets of double bunks, a tall cupboard on its side which served as a sideboard, with the top as a work surface and storage underneath. There were two easy chairs and a table made from Red Cross crates and we used the services of a communal stove for cooking. The stove was a kreigie modification set into the chimney of the main stove, made up of RC tins and a German pickle tin as a firebox. It enabled us to brew up tea etc., heat up food and keep it warm. The fuel was mostly pine cones (from the wood collecting parties) kept alight by a forced draught, generated by waving a table tennis bat into the opening of the 'firebox'. I have often wondered whether it could have been patented!
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Tom and I were allocated a room with two Australians (Jack Bedells and Nigel Teague) as a mess of four. Jack seemed to be in charge of the German and Red Cross food rations. He also organised a weekly menu and cooked the meals most of the time. In army parlance he was President of the Mess Committee or PMC – gone were the Stalag days of 'muckers'. I cannot recall making any meals but I did a lot of washing up. Although Jack did most of the meals, he was a bit of a hoarder. When from time to time Jack was out on wood collecting parties, Nigel (Paddy) would take over and have a bit of a bash. On one occasion he used up all our chocolate from RC parcels, which he melted down with some margarine, mixed it with a tin of biscuits and solid oatmeal (all crushed up), some Bengers Food and egg powder. When it had set it became a delicious fudge. A bit expensive but at this time it was Easter and the news on the war front was good, so we had a celebration. Another time Jack had tried his hand at making cakes but had used salt instead of sugar. As cakes they were a disaster, but used with a tin of stewed steak, became acceptable Yorkshire puddings!
Jack, and Paddy (a man of few words), obviously had elected to look after us and they were very friendly chaps, but we found that they were quiet and to some extent introspective. In fact most of the people here with like it, and I can only draw the conclusion that they had 'run out of steam'. All of them had been prisoners for four or five years, experienced the same number of Christmases 'go by' and were still behind the wire. Now that the war was almost over they were just waiting for it to 'really happen'. There were still some activities in the camp at this time and I can recall going to their theatre to listen to a recital of Gilbert and Sullivan music. Looking at some of their old programmes and magazines it had been a lively place at one time. They were in the privileged position of having all their 'literature' printed. I suppose that as they received some of their UK pay in lagermarks, they could pay for this work to be done outside the camp. (I cannot recall whether I was receiving any pay at this time, anyway it was too late to bother.)
A few incidents of note I can remember -
On the road to the south, nearly every day you could see in the distance, a troop of Germans marching up and down as if in training, and singing as they marched. We called them 'the singing Goons'. (Germans were often nicknamed Jerries, Krauts, or Goons). I believe they were the Volkssturm, the German 'Homeguard', the Hitler youth and old men recruited to defend the homeland, now it was being invaded on all war fronts. In January 1945 Hitler ordered that, to strengthen their resolve, the Volkssturm would be regrouped with regular army units. In the Russian battle for Berlin in April many of them were killed alongside the more seasoned troops.
Another event, in this late hour of the war, occurred when we had our palliasses removed as punishment for some misdemeaner the Allies had allegedly done to Germans. We had to sleep on bare boards for about a month, not kind to your hips, which at this time, didn't have much flesh on them.
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Then – On 12 April 1945 the Germans informed us that President Roosevelt had died, which was not really a surprise as he had been ill for a long time. (It was a pity that he did not live to see victory, which was less than a month away.) We all assembled as for roll call and had two minutes silence as a mark of respect.
On 9 March 1945 I received a blank book issued by the International Red Cross, named 'A Wartime Log'. It contained pages that could be used as a diary (a bit late in the day) or just to record anything; centre pages for sketching etc. and a rear section with cellophane envelopes to store small items. I spent some time catching up, by writing as much as I could remember of the last year's events, and drew pictures of my present camp and other pictures of interest. I affixed photographs I had received from home. Unfortunately I was unable to complete it, but it has supplied a substantial part of my 'POW DAYS' for which I am extremely grateful, as otherwise it would never have been written.
From February through to April we did not have many Red Cross parcels. One week we were lucky when a truck was diverted through to us, so it had been a sort of 'rags to riches' from one week to another. On 9 March we were told that the German rations were being cut by 20% and potatoes by 33. 1/3%. German rations were poor, but were even more necessary in the, then, current situation of declining Red Cross food supply. We were hoping more than ever, that the war would be over soon.
There was rapid progress in the success of the war for the Allies, from February onwards. The Allies fought through the Siegfried Line in Germany, to the Rhine and took Cologne on 6 March. Then the only surviving bridge over the Rhine at Remegan was captured. From 23 to 26 March, the American armies in the Ruhr area crossed the Rhine, and the British and Canadian airborne and ground troops in the North crossed the Rhine near Wesel, in the greatest operation since D Day. More than 60 bridgeheads were established. As a result massive advances were made. The British and Canadian forces crossed Northern Germany in seven days and reached the Baltic. The American armies had encircled the Ruhr and moved east to Central and Southern Germany.
The import of these advances was that we were soon to learn, as our Commandant informed us on 13 April, that the camp was to be evacuated next day to StalagV11A, Moosburg, some 60 miles or so south across the river Danube. We would march there, with a truck to take any of us who were unable to walk the whole distance. Considering the rate of the American advance under General Patton, it beggars belief that it would be worth the effort to move us at all. (I understand that it had been a standing order from Hitler that no prisoner should fall into 'enemy' hands – but they were now losing the war!)
The 13 April was a hectic day for everybody, packing as much food as possible – luckily there had been an RC parcel delivery that week – and
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essential clothing etc. into kitbags and homemade rucksacks. Some had procured old prams and others had attached some sort of wheels to Canadian Red Cross crates. A number of us had got hold of poles, so that two kitbags could be suspended between the shoulders of two people.
It was a 'motley army' that assembled on the road just outside the camp the following day. At about 9.30 am some 1500 kreigies, in a very long column interspersed with German guards, were ready to move off. Then low over the horizon from the east there swept in a flight of fighter aircraft. The army chap next to me said, "What are they?" and I replied, "They look like ME109s". How wrong can you be! In seconds the 'planes had shot up and straddled with light bombs, a German truck on the road to the south of us. They were a flight of American Mustang fighter bombers! Now it was our turn, the Mustangs wheeled around, and flying in again from the east, started to strafe our column. Pandemonium broke out as the column scattered off the road. Luckily I was in the middle of the column and managed to move off the road in time, before the cannon shells started to spurt along it. The front of the column wasn't so lucky. Then either the aircraft wheeled around again, or another flight appeared in the same run. By this time I was trying to run up the hill to a craggy outcrop for shelter. The Mustangs were barely at 50 feet and firing their cannon. My legs just folded up under me in fright and I didn't make it to the shelter of the rock. I have never felt so vulnerable before or since. The Mustangs on this run were, I believe, firing at a machine gun post on the top of the ridge. They were apparently out of ammunition then, as after this they were gone.
The results of this strafing were tragic: there were some 50 casualties, including seven killed and another three who died within 12 hours. The leader of the camp dance band and a first class pianist, lost an arm, and another chap had to have a leg amputated. Even more tragic when one considers that these chaps had been prisoners for four or five years and were within two weeks of being liberated. We all oved back into the camp and the letters 'POW' were marked out on the football field. It was decided by the Commandant, who had two guards killed and several wounded, that the evacuation would recommence the next evening. We would march by night and lie up under cover during the day. Nobody disagreed with that.
Some days after we left the camp the American army arrived and repatriated the wounded. The event was serious enough for a Question to be asked in the House of Commons as to why a motley column of POWs, in khaki just outside the wire of their camp with its watchtowers and searchlights, could be mistaken for a disciplined column of the German army. The reply was that the American air force thought they were a troop of Hungarians, whose uniforms were also coloured khaki! This was an example of the suffering from 'Friendly Fire' that took place in WW2.
From OflagV11B to StalagV11A
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The march took about six or seven days and unfortunately I did not record details of it. There were no serious incidents during the march and, taking place during the night, not much could be seen. It was more of a trudge along, than a march. As they were not main roads it was quiet, no German troops or armour moving north and no hoards of refugees moving south. There were no towns and only a few villages that we passed through. I don't recall crossing the Danube, but this would have been a natural defence for the Germans, as the Americans advanced south. I understand that pockets of SS troops were active in the forests around Eichstatt, but we did not see or hear any as we moved south.
In my Wartime Log, I did make a sketch of an open barn and farmyard which typified the sort place we stayed in, after each night's march. These farms would have been spread around a village and we were allowed to wander anywhere on parole status. This meant that we would not try to escape. Not that there was any point in escaping at this stage of the war, with the risk of being caught up in a local SS fire fight and the war almost over. Some of the chaps did wander around the farms and houses, trading with locals their cigarettes, for bread and eggs etc. On one occasion I went into a local church and I found a memorial card for a German soldier who was killed in 1941, 'gefallan fur Deuchland', which I kept as a reminder that, in a war, every nation's youth was sacrificed for some so-called national cause.
One event I do remember clearly, in the fading daylight as we moved off one evening. It was two old men just completing a new ornamental wooden fence around their front garden. Each pale had a cloverleaf hole, carefully cut in it at the top with a bow saw. They were so immersed in their work, they didn't notice us as we passed by. Even though much of Germany was in turmoil, the war could have been a thousand miles away, or never even happened, as far as they were concerned. They were just getting on with the remainder of their lives!
On 22 April we reached StalagV11A and it was nearly the end of the war.
StalagV11A, Moosburg, Bavaria
Stalag V11A was started in September 1939 for 10,000 POWs and grew to enormous size over the war years. After the collapse of France, the evacuation at Dunkirk, and the invasion of Russia in 1940, prisoners from 72 nations had passed through the camp. Towards the end of the war there were about 80,000 POWs, 2000 guards and administrative staff, with another 80,000 prisoners with 8000 guards on outside working parties. No doubt these numbers were swollen by the intake of prisoners from other camps likely to be overrun like ourselves. In the final stages the Commandant requisitioned tents for 30,000 prisoners, but we were housed in huts when we arrived.
The huts were like those in Stalag1VB, but probably more dilapidated if that were possible and the whole place was flea ridden. This would have been a shock for our colleagues from OflagV11B having had tolerable living quarters for some years. However we only had a week to suffer until our liberation.
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On the morning of 29 April we were assembled for roll call. However there were no guards to count us and no guards in the watchtowers. Then we heard the rumble of trucks and tanks getting steadily nearer the camp and pass by, a short distance away, but we could not see them. There were a few light explosions and some small arms fire as the column approached the town. This stopped, and in the distance we could see the American flag, the Stars and Stripes, go up over the Town Hall – our war was over! What a 'Holywood ending' for us to experience.
Shortly afterwards an American jeep from General Patton's 3rd. Army entered the camp with a soldier standing, holding aloft the Commandant's revolver which had just been surrendered to him. You couldn't see the rest of the jeep for people trying to climb on to it. The camp was now in a state of euphoria.
I have learned since that Colonel Burger, the German officer responsible for the defence of Moosburg, wanted to hand over the camp to the advancing Americans and for the Americans to by-pass the town. By this means Colonel Burger would ensure the safety of the camp and the town. However Colonel Burger had received orders to deport all the 15000 POW officers in the camp, and to send as many of his own men as he could afford to defend Moosburg. The local command of Moosburg was then taken over on 28 April by an officer of the SS, who was tricked into believing that Burger was going to carry out the deportation orders. When the SS officer left, Burger informed the more senior POW officers, in the presence of the Commandant, of his decision to hand over the camp en bloc to the approaching Americans. On the night of 28 April, under a flag of truce, a delegation including a Swiss delegate, two POW colonels and the SS officer, contacted the Americans to persuade them to go round Moosburg. The Americans held on to the SS officer (as Burger knew they would), declined to go round Moosburg, but accepted the plan to take over the camp from noon 29 April. The plan was carried out with only token resistance in Moosburg (as I actually witnessed) and there were no casualties in the American take-over of the camp.
(I have often thought since, that the reason the German SS wished to hold on to as many officer prisoners as possible, was to use them as hostages to trade for their own lives when the end came!)
Now we had been liberated, all we wanted was to catch a 'plane and fly home. But this was a prodigious task and some organisation obviously necessary before this could happen. The first thing I can remember, was that a number of American ladies assisting the Red Cross appeared, all highly made up as if they were going to a party. They were distributing doughnuts and white bread, which after eating the German bread for 15 months tasted like cake. It was a nice gesture, but I think we would have appreciated more, a field kitchen with some thick soup and American army rations!
The Americans were concerned that in such a large camp with so many nationalities, discipline would weaken, and the inmates would breakout and ravage the town. So we, the British officers, were required to patrol on the
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outside of the wire, in pairs, in the hope that we could maintain order. We had no weapons and luckily no breakouts materialised. I was very relieved when they withdrew this operation, as we could not have prevented any trouble, and instead we could have landed up as being post war casualties.
Plans to fly us out were fairly rapid and I was scheduled to fly to Brussels on 3 May, but this was cancelled. On 6 May I wrote an American air letter home, a rather sad letter, as now I was disappointed about the delay, and conditions in the camp were terrible. Glad to say this letter didn't arrive home until I had been home several weeks!
Eventually a number of us were moved on 8 May to a grass airfield (adjacent to Moosburg town), where some 40 American Dakota transport aircraft were due to arrive to fly us to Brussels. None arrived and we spent all day in glorious sunshine on the airfield, which meant we would all arrive home sunburnt as if we had been on holiday!
The 8 May was VE Day, the day all Germany surrendered to the Allied forces. Since we were released on 29 April, in the space of nine days, German forces had surrendered in Italy. Hitler had committed suicide, the Russians had conquered Berlin, the Americans and Russians had met, officially, on the river Elbe at Torgau (which was near Stalag 1VB), and the Germans in, Holland, Denmark and North Germany had capitulated to the British Army.
At the end of the day on Moosburg airfield, American soldiers took us over to some houses on the edge of the airfield (which they had requisitioned at short notice), so we could 'bed down' for the night. I felt sorry for the owners of the properties, as they had been moved out at short notice and had to leave everything as it was. I for my part just slept on the floor, and at any rate there were too many of us to use the beds. The next morning, early, we had to return to the airfield, but I'm sorry to say not before some of our party had rifled the drawers and cupboards for souvenirs. I felt disgusted by this despoilment of someone's home, by apparently otherwise disciplined men who were now shortly to be reunited with their own families and homes.
On our way home
We had to wait a short time on the airfield for the Dakotas to arrive, so I had my last meal (breakfast) of Red Cross food which I had saved for such an occasion. It was from an American parcel, a box of cornflakes and milk powder, which I managed to mix with water and eat in a comparatively civilised manner.
Not long afterwards I was in the air on my way to Brussels and what a feeling of elation I had! I don't recall much of the flight, but I remember noticing some of the German autobahns with their bridges destroyed. When we arrived in Brussels, the town was in its second VE Day celebrations (9 May), but all I wanted was to clean up and get a change of clothing. We were taken to a Reception Centre where we registered and had a shower. A bit like arriving at Stalag1VB, except we were all issued with new uniforms (and not our existing
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ones deloused with gas!). After that we had a meal, with a band playing light music. One of the pieces played was appropriately 'J'attendrai', and then we were allowed to go into the town. As we were returning to England the next day and recent events were quite exhausting for me, I decided to sleep in a proper bed for the first time for 15 months, and save my celebrations for home.
The next day we left in small parties, only room for a few passengers in each RAF Lancaster, and flew to RAF Odiham in Surrey. We arrived to a heroes' welcome, with Squadron Leaders and Wing Commanders shaking our hands and offering to carry our kit to a hangar. This had been transformed into a large café set out with tables and chairs, with the Station WAAFs kept busy serving us tea and cakes, whilst an RAF band played light music to complete the welcome.
After our refreshment we were each given a ten shilling note (equal to about £40 in year 2004) for our journey to RAF Cosford, Shropshire. A party of us climbed into the back of an RAF open truck, which was to take us along the A30 to Paddington station in London. After some distance in open country we spied a large pub on the right hand side of the road. We thumped on the side of the driver's cab for him to stop, and directed him to the pub for a drink, the first since we were shot down. But when we got to the entrance, there was this devastating notice 'NO BEER'. Of course we had arrived home after two days of victory celebrations and the locals had drunk the place dry! Not to be outdone we charged into the pub and after explaining to the publican our plight, he pulled up some pints of ullage. It was floating with hops, but we didn't car, it was fine.
We followed this bout of 'drinking' with the invasion of a roadside café opposite the pub. We burst in waving our ten shilling notes, asking for cups of tea. When they realised who we were, just back from Germany, we had a bit of a party! Naturally we didn't break into our ten shilling notes, and it was great to be with the British people, back in our homeland again.
On arrival in London we stopped at the Endsleigh Hotel in Paddington for a meal. I took this opportunity to telephone my father from a public call box, using a free phone number. His first words to me were "Are you alright?" My father had a colleague at work, whose son was an army officer in OflagV11B (my camp). He had been wounded in the shoot up by the American Mustangs, left behind in the camp, liberated and repatriated by the Americans to a British hospital a few days later. And of course this event of 'friendly fire' had been followed by a row about it in the House of Commons. I assured my father that I was ok and I should be home in a few days.
We caught a train from Paddington to Cosford shortly after our meal at the hotel. At Cosford we were debriefed by Intelligence Officers for possible atrocities we may have experienced or witnessed in Germany. Of course some weeks before, the Allied forces had over-run the German extermination camps for Jews (the Holocaust). These had been filmed and shown in cinemas across Britain. The whole population had been reviled at what they
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saw. We had not suffered such revolting treatment. Germany had followed the Geneva Convention to what I would describe as a minimum extent. In Stalag1VB, there was excessive overcrowding and lice-ridden living conditions, with no proper sewerage or waste water systems. The food was not sufficient and of low quality. Without the International Red Cross supplying food and monitoring camps, life in prison camps would have been much worse and many more would have died of illness and malnutrition.
Following our debriefing we all had chest X-rays and full aircrew medicals. I was not able to blow up and hold – I think for one minute – a column of mercury, a critical test for aircrew. We were re-issued with battle dress and basic clothing etc. (I did not have an officer's kit, my commission having been promulgated whilst I was a POW, and would have to get it from a military tailor whilst on leave.) After this we were issued with railway warrants and leave passes and free to go home! Not wanting to wait for transport to the railway station a number of us hailed a passing lorry. It was an empty coal lorry. No matter, we couldn't wait, so we climbed aboard, kit bags and all.
I arrived back at Paddington in the late evening, too late to get a train home. Paddington was not far from Park Lane, and living in a deluxe flat in Fountain House in Park Lane was Mr. Heron (the Boys Brigade captain of a company I belonged to before the war). He, his wife and daughter, were good friends of mine and between them had sent me 26 letters whilst I was in Stalag1VB. He was the Chief Engineer of the Dorchester Hotel in Park Lane and was living here because his house in Goodmayes (less than half a mile from where I lived) was completely destroyed by a bomb in 1940. Mr and Mrs Heron were surprised indeed when I knocked on their door that evening. We talked almost the night through. They were the first personal friends I had spoken to for a long time.
The following morning I was on the last leg home. We had no phone at home, and no neighbour who had a phone – not many people had the luxury of a phone in those days – so I could not tell my mother I would be home soon.
I caught a train to Ilford station and from there a taxi home. It was near lunch time, my sisters and father were at work. My mother must have had a premonition it was me knocking on the door, as she was crying buckets of tears of joy and was still holding the cabbage she was preparing, when she opened the door.
October 2008
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
My Prisoner of War Days
Description
An account of the resource
Reg's account starting when he was shot down on an operation to Berlin. After Berlin he was transferred to Frankfurt for interrogation then by train to his camp. Camp life involved food, the preparation and acquisition of extra food by theft, trading or Red Cross parcels. The theatre was very popular as was sport. Trading was a large part of camp life, using cigarettes as currency. Plans to escape and tunneling were active at all times. Mail was very important, as were parcels from home. Once the Germans found out Reg was now an officer he was transferred to an officer's camp in Bavaria where conditions were better. Finally he relates the arrival of the Americans at the camp and his repatriation to his home.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Reg Wilson
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2008-10
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Germany--Berlin
Great Britain
England--London
Russia (Federation)--Leningradskai︠a︡ oblastʹ
Germany--Magdeburg
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Oberursel
Europe--Elbe River
Germany--Leipzig
France--Dunkerque
England--London
England--Romford
England--Brighton
France--Normandy
France--Caen
France--Cherbourg
France--Falaise
France--Paris
Poland--Warsaw
Netherlands--Arnhem
France--Ardennes
Poland--Vistula River
Europe--Oder River
Germany--Riesa
Germany--Mulde River Region
Germany--Eichstätt
Germany--Chemnitz
Germany--Nuremberg
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Plauen
Danube River
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Remagen
Germany--Rhineland
France--Dunkerque
Belgium--Brussels
Germany--Torgau
Poland
France
Germany
Belgium
Netherlands
Russia (Federation)
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Essex
England--Sussex
Germany--Hof (Hof)
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
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
39 printed sheets
Identifier
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MWilsonRC1389401-170113-100001
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Sue Smith
102 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
B-17
bale out
bomb aimer
bombing
C-47
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
crash
Dulag Luft
entertainment
escaping
evading
H2S
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
Ju 88
Lancaster
Me 109
navigator
Operation Exodus (1945)
P-51
prisoner of war
RAF Cosford
RAF Odiham
Red Cross
Roosevelt, Franklin Delano (1882-1945)
sport
Stalag Luft 3
strafing
the long march
Typhoon
V-1
V-2
V-weapon
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2231/40720/MBirdJH184015-180215-25.1.jpg
2dd80af92e4ca45703bceb1fa722d8b3
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Bird, JH
Description
An account of the resource
50 items. The collection concerns Flying Officer J H Bird (b. 1921, 184015 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, note books, newsletters and a <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2251">photograph album</a>. After training in south Africa, he flew operations as a pilot with 104 Squadron. The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Lissie Wilkins and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-02-15
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
Bird, JH
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
Pilot Officer James Harry Bird
Description
An account of the resource
An extract from a document briefly detailing JH Bird's career in the RAF. Also included is a second pilot, Pilot Officer Alexander Fraser.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Austria
Danube River
Hungary
Greece--Dekeleia
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
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One printed sheet
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MBirdJH184015-180215-25
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription
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
104 Squadron
37 Squadron
aerial photograph
aircrew
bombing
mine laying
pilot
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2251/40650/PBirdJH18010036.1.jpg
4b7fc560dd9a8d2117b3d62b27c1e938
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
Bird, JH. Photo Album
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-02-15
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
Bird, JH
Description
An account of the resource
The album contains images taken during his service in Italy and includes target photographs and descriptions of bombing operations.
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
River Danube and Kalamaki Aerodrome
Description
An account of the resource
Handwritten descriptions of two operations. One to lay mines in the River Danube, near Gyor in Hungary and the other to bomb Kalamaki Aerodrome near Athens in Greece.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1944-10-04
1944-10-09
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-10-04
1944-10-09
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Hungary
Hungary--Győr
Greece
Greece--Athens
Danube River
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
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
Handwritten notes on an album page
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PBirdJH18010036
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Andy Fitter
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription
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
anti-aircraft fire
bombing
mine laying
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2251/40637/PBirdJH18010030.1.jpg
e10407d41edddd4f64e1f12130afb6c7
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2251/40637/PBirdJH18010031.1.jpg
824f6178b19073448469f6bcb7988224
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
Bird, JH. Photo Album
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-02-15
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
Bird, JH
Description
An account of the resource
The album contains images taken during his service in Italy and includes target photographs and descriptions of bombing operations.
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
River Danube, Bologna and Milan Lambrate
Description
An account of the resource
Handwritten summaries of three separate operations to the River Danube, east of Novi Sad; to Bologna Marshalling Yards and to Milan Lambrate Marshalling Yards.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1944-09-05
1944-09-06
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-09-05
1944-09-06
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Serbia
Serbia--Novi Sad
Italy
Italy--Bologna
Italy--Milan
Danube River
Danube River
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
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Handwritten notes on two album pages
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PBirdJH18010030, PBirdJH18010031
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription
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
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Andy Fitter
bombing
mine laying
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1246/16340/LNealeETH1395951v1.2.pdf
4aa165447a71b30da38873f406b3d454
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Neale, Ted
E T H Neale
Description
An account of the resource
123 items. The collection concerns Edward Thomas Henry Neale (b. 1922, 1395951 Royal Air Force) who served as a navigator with 37 Squadron in North Africa, the Middle East and Italy. The collection contains his training notebooks from South Africa as well as propaganda leaflets dropped by the allies in the Mediterranean theatre.
The collection also contains a photograph album, navigation logs and target photographs.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Alison Neale 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
2015-07-31
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
Neale, ETH
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
Ted Neale's observer’s and air gunner’s flying log book
Description
An account of the resource
Observer’s and air gunner’s flying log book for E T H Neale, navigator, covering the period from 25 August 1943 to 16 October 1945. Detailing his flying training, operations flown, wartime and post war flying duties. He was stationed at SAAF Port Elizabeth, SAAF Woodbridge, RAF Qastina and USAAF Tortorella, as well as serving in the Mediterranean Allied Air Force. Aircraft flown were, Anson, Wellington, Defiant, Argus, Hudson, Baltimore and Expeditor. He flew 7 daylight and 22 night operations with 37 Squadron. His pilots on operations were Fight Sergeant Schlote, Major Bayford, Sergeant Taylor, Sergeant Smith, Flying Officer Evans, and Flight Sergeant Wilson. Targets were, Brod Brodsanski, Smederevo, Pardubice, Ploesti, Danube, Porte La Valence, Genoa, Marseilles, Bologna, Ravenna, Rimini, Heg Yeshalom, San Benedetto, Bronzolo, Szombathely, Tuzla, Podgorica, Sjenica, Tuffee, Figarolo, Probij, Udine, Uzice and Fredbrad.
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.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Mike Connock
Cara Walmsley
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
LNealeETH1395951v1
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.
Bosnia and Herzegovina
Croatia
Czech Republic
France
Great Britain
Hungary
Italy
Montenegro
Romania
Serbia
South Africa
Bosnia and Herzegovina--Tuzla
Croatia--Slavonski Brod
Czech Republic--Pardubice
Danube River
France--Marseille
France--Valence (Drôme)
Hungary--Hegyeshalom
Hungary--Szombathely
Italy--Bologna
Italy--Bronzolo
Italy--Foggia (Province)
Italy--Genoa
Italy--Liguria
Italy--Ravenna
Italy--Rimini
Italy--San Benedetto del Tronto
Italy--Udine
Middle East--Palestine
Montenegro--Podgorica
Serbia--Smederevo
Serbia--Sjenica
Serbia--Užice
South Africa--East London
South Africa--Port Elizabeth
Romania--Ploiești
Danube River
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943
1944
1945
37 Squadron
aircrew
Anson
bombing
Defiant
Hudson
navigator
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1826/33140/BScottEWScottEWv1.1.pdf
92a9acd045c19578c33cacdec86958b1
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
Scott, Eric William
E W Scott
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
2017-04-06
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
Scott, EW
Description
An account of the resource
139 items. The collection concerns Flying Officer Eric Scott (1425952, 188329 Royal Air Force) and contains his log books, a memoir, correspondence, documents, newspaper cuttings, a flying course handbook and photographs. He flew operations in North Africa as a bomb aimer with 142 Squadron and then after an instructional tour in Palestine started a second tour on 37 Squadron in Italy where he was shot down and finished the war as a prisoner. <br /><br />The collection includes three albums.<br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2040"><span>Album 1</span></a> <span>Photographs of Jerusalem, Bethlehem. Tel Aviv, Haifa and friends.</span><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2041">Album 2</a> <span>Photographs taken during training in the United States and England and during his service in North Africa and Italy.<br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2046">Album 3</a> Correspondence, newspaper cuttings, documents and the last issue of the Prisoner of war Journal.<br /></span><br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Jacqui Holman and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
The Memoir of
ERIC WILLIAM SCOTT
[Photograph]
Immediately before and during
WORLD WAR II – (1939 to 1946)
[Page break]
ALLIED
EX-PRISONER OF WAR
MEDAL
[Photograph]
Obverse: The prominent feature of the front or obverse side of the medal is the strand of barbed wire which has entrapped a young bird, symbolic of freedom itself. These elements surmount a globe of the world indicative of the international parameters of the medal. The wording “International Prisoners of War” encircles the entire design.
Reverse: The haunting and vicious barb of the ever present wire is used symbolically to divide the reverse side of the medal into four elements, each bearing one of the words in the phrase “Intrepid against all adversity”.
Ribbon: One of the most distinctive medal ribbons yet designed, it is woven 32mm wide with an unusual feature in having a symbolised strand of white barbed wire 2mm wide placed centrally, this is bounded on either side by 4mm black bands representing the despair of the compound. These, in turn, are edged by two further white 2mm bands representative of the second and third fences of the compound, outside of these are 7mm bands of green, reminiscent of the fields of home and finally, both edges are comprised 2mm red bands symbolic of the burning faith of those who were interned.
[Photograph]
[Page break]
FOREWORD:
From the age of 14 1/2 years old – 1936 – I was employed by Clayton Dewandre Co. Ltd., of Lincoln. Initially my work included machine shop and fitting practices. During the latter part of 1938 I was accepted as a student apprentice and commenced work in the Research and Development Department as a student Technician. I attended evening college, on Monks Road, Lincoln, four nights each week studying for an ONC in Engineering.
When war was declared in September 1939 I was concentrating on the development of a twin piston air compressor, to provide air pressure for a new tank being developed at the Ministry of Defence at Chobham. I was involved in other projects too; new air/oil coolers for the Spitfire and Hurricane, power assisted controls for the same aircraft, radiators/coolers for army vehicles and tanks and new braking systems for vehicles and gun limbers.
In January 1941, having successfully completed my ONC Engineering Course, I decided that I would volunteer for the R.A.F. Because of my reserved occupation my only option was to try and be accepted for aircrew duties, which is what I wanted and would prevent Clayton Dewandre from blocking my acceptance.
R.A.F.V.R. TRAINING
I arrived at the RAF recruiting office in Saltergate, Lincoln, in February 1941. The necessary forms were completed, I was almost 19 years old at the time. Notification was received in March from the RAF to attend Cardington, Bedfordshire, for written, oral and medical examinations over a three-day period. These examinations did not prove difficult except for one oral question of “what route would I take if I flew from England to Turkey, without crossing belligerent countries?” My geography was never a strong point and I had to admit to the four officers of the board that I didn’t know.
However, I was accepted into the RAFVR as a Pilot under training (U/T Pilot) and sworn in along with approx. 50% of those attending at the time. My RAF number was 1425752 and a silver lapel badge showing RAFVR letters, with an eagle, was issued to each person.
The officer in charge of the intake of applicants explained that they had too many aspiring aircrew at the time, and because of the limited training facilities, we would now be on deferred service until notified. I returned to Clayton Dewandre and continued with development projects until call-up papers were received in August 1941. These instructed me to report to St. John’s Wood, London, adjacent to London Zoo! It was always known as A.C.R.C. (Air Crew Reception Centre).
[Page break]
[Photograph]
AIRCREW RECEPTION CENTRE
12/7 FLIGHT – LONDON – AUGUST 11TH 1941
[Page break]
We were billeted in large flats – six bunks to a room. I was “closeted” with five Scotsmen and for some days just couldn’t understand a word they were saying. What with shedding ones hair and other “foreign” phrases it was very difficult to communicate. However, they became very staunch friends during our initial training.
During our three weeks at A.C.R.C. we were re-examined medically, given all the necessary injections, inoculations, blood tests, etc., including a smallpox vaccination. Many of the recruits suffered quite a lot of pain from this intensive treatment, particularly from the vaccination. I was fortunate since, having been treated as a child, my reaction was minimal.
“Kitting out” was a major operation – large kit bag stuffed with spare boots, best blues, vest – airmen for the use of – underpants, numerous pairs of socks, four shirts with eight loose collars, two ties, two side caps, shoe cleaning brushes, button cleaning equipment, sewing wallet, gas masks and tin hat. We had to remove our civilian gear to the Wembley Warehouse and don our battledress equipment. Each side hat came complete with a detachable white flash which fitted around the front and was held in place by one of the turned-up peaks. This indicated that the wearer was aircrew under training. Whilst at the warehouse in Wembley we were instructed to pack our civilian attire and wrap it in brown paper, with the address clearly printed on the label provided. These were then dealt with by the RAF stores personnel.
Whilst at the A.C.R.C. we were divided into Flights of approximately fifty recruits and were drilled, drilled and drilled – every day – to “lick us into shape”.
Being a short person i.e. 5ft 6” I was always halfway down the flight rank. Those at the front and the rear were mainly ex-policemen. It meant that we shorties had to almost run to keep up with those in front and, to prevent those at the rear from treading on our heels. The corporal in charge eventually got the stride distance sorted out – R.A.F. Standard - which suited all concerned.
3
[Page break]
STRATFORD ON AVON
INTIAL TRAINING WING
[Photograph]
[Photograph]
PROMOTION TO L.A.C. NOVEMBER 3RD 1941
[Postcard]
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INITIAL TRAINING WING, STRATFORD-ON-AVON :
AUGUST 1941 – NOVEMBER 1941
We were billeted in hotels commandeered by the MOD. I was in the Falcon Hotel – a very old building with sloping floors, small windows and creaking stairs and floorboards. Whilst at Stratford we had to do guard duty – two hours on – four off – from 6.0 pm to 6.0 am. During the winter months it was not very pleasant and the creaking/groaning of the swinging hotel signs were, initially, rather daunting particularly when coupled with the church clock chiming and listening for the officer and NCO of the guard watch coming round to try and catch us out.
During our stay at Stratford we were taught Morse code both sending and receiving, including Aldis lamps, navigation and the Dead Reckon Type with Mercators charts, maths, aircraft recognition, theory of flight, aero engine design and, of course, drilling!
Our working day commenced with reveille at 6.0am and breakfast at 7-7.30am and ended at 4.30pm (16.30 hours). Wednesday afternoon was for sport which I spent rowing on the Avon. I also had the opportunity of seeing a few shows at the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre.
We sat our exams at the end of October 1941 and I was promoted from AC2 (the lowest Non-commissioned rank to LAC – (Leading Aircraftsman) on the 3rd November 1941. This entailed sewing a cloth badge showing an aircraft propellor onto the sleeves of our uniforms. Pay also increased from two shillings and sixpence per day to five shillings per day. I was suddenly rich beyond my wildest dreams.
FLYING TRAINING
The way was now open to commence flying training. Prior to going home on my first leave, we were issued with an additional kit bag containing an inner and outer flying suit – special flying socks, flying boots, silk, wool and gauntlet gloves and flying helmet with goggles. Taking all this gear home was quite a problem, the total kit comprising one large kit bag, one flying kit bag, upper and lower pack, side pouches, gas mask and tin hat.
One week after completing I.T. Wing training I was posted direct to RAF Watchfield, No. 3 E.F.T.S. The airfield was all grass and was mainly a beam approach training school flying Oxfords and Ansons. Supplementary to this was an Elementary Flying Training School with Tiger Moths and Biplanes made by DeHaviland [sic, and this was my destination. The weather that November was very cold and a few minutes in the air, with the open cockpit aircraft, froze our faces. The bulky fling suits were a necessity and the boots, lined with sheepskin, did manage to keep the circulation going in the feet.
My fling instructor was Lt. Bembridge, a Battle of Britain Pilot. He was very anxious to show me the aerobatic qualities of the Tiger Moth. Often, after landing, my face would be ashen and I felt very sick but I was never actually air sick. The
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WATCHFIELD, NR SWINDON
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GYPSY 7 ENGINE – 200 H.P. MAXIMUM SPEED – 120 MPH
NOVEMBER 21ST – DECEMBER 1ST
Total hours flying 6 3/4 in which time
I passed out Solo
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aircraft was very good to fly being light and responsive to control changes. It was, however, quite difficult to land because of its lightness and we rookies often found ourselves trying to “put the wheels down” whilst we were still ten feet or more above ground level. This, with the subsequent bouncing, was known as “walking it in”. Undercarriage repairs were required every day, but on completing the required flying exercises – see pilot’s log book – and after 6 hrs 10mins dual instruction I was allowed to go solo. It was a tremendous feeling and quite frightening to know that I was on my own and a safe take off and landing was my responsibility. There were other RAF men on the ground watching my progress and biting their nails. I cannot remember exactly but I think I completed three take offs and landings during the 00.35 minutes solo.
The time at No. 3 E.F.T.S. Watchfield was apparently an elimination period. Those who had gone solo, 8 hours allowed, were detained to go for further training to either Canada, America, South Africa, Rhodesia, or Australia on what was known as the Empire Air Training Scheme. Those cadets who needed a little extra flying training, but showed promise, were posted to other E.F.T.S. schools in the UK whilst the remainder had to re-muster as navigators, wireless operators or air gunners.
The Empire Air Training Scheme was initiated because of enemy action and weather conditions severely limiting flying training courses in the UK therefore preventing the flow of trained aircrew, with operational service, at the rate required.
Generally, the country providing the training paid for new airfields to be built and a large proportion of the training costs. This included the U.S.A.
THE ARNOLD SCHEME – UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Following a brief period of leave from Watchfield in December 1941, I was instructed to report to Heaton Park, Manchester. The weather was atrocious with rain and fog. Approximately 3,000 cadets congregated at that venue and we had to “hang around” until our names and numbers were called when we went to a billeting clerk to be told who we were to stay with and the address.
John Player and myself were given the same billet – a Mrs. Pimlett – the address escapes my memory. On arrival we were met by a middle-aged lady in best “bib and tucker”, complete with carnation. She welcomed us into her home, showed us our room and explained that she was going to a wedding. She then invited us to go to the evening reception and wrote down the address.
After a bath and general “tidy up” and, with best blues donned, buttons shining and boots polished, John and I went to the address given.
We were truly welcomed by the wedding party and enjoyed the evening with them, eventually returning home with Mrs. Pimlott.
We learned that our landlady had an invalid husband and she financed their living by taking in sewing of pre-cut garments and of course now by providing a billet for such
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Mid-Atlantic on board the ‘Montcalm’
12th January 1942
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Our only company across the Atlantic the ‘Volendam’
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Moncton Railway Station
Canada
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as John and I. The sewing side was almost slave labour and she had to work all day and well into the evening to obtain a meagre income.
John and I departed Manchester for Glasgow on January 6th and embarked on the S.S. Montcalm. This ship had been an armed merchantman before being converted into a troop ship. A 4” naval gun was mounted at the stern and this ship was, we were told, of 13,000 ton capacity. We set sail on January 8th 1942 with a sister ship names Volendam which also had RAF cadets on board, and in convoy with other ships and destroyer escorts. After leaving Glasgow we called at Milford Haven and then nosed out into the Atlantic. The weather, after two days at sea, became very stormy and the ship pitched and rolled to an uncomfortable degree. Many men were sea sick and food was definitely out of order. John and I lived on arrowroot biscuits and lemonade for eight of the fourteen day voyage to Moncton, New Brunswick, Canada.
During the very story crossing we were called upon to carry out various duties and mine was submarine watch! I couldn’t have recognised a periscope if I had seen one and in any event, the waves and ship movement were such that just staying upright was enough without looking for submarines.
Although I had been allocated a hammock for sleeping purposes, I just could not get into one, and kept falling out the opposite side so swapped for a bunk – even though the ship’s movement was intensified by a fixed bunk.
Because of the atrocious weather conditions our destroyer and convoy of ships disappeared after five days out into the Atlantic. The Volendrum went out of sight after a further two days sailing.
Eleven days after leaving Glasgow the bad weather gradually abated and we started eating Navy food again on the mess deck, but it was necessary to hang on to the plates to prevent them sliding off the end of the table.
After thirteen days at sea we were thrilled to see the bright lights of Moncton appear on the horizon.
The first things I saw after docking were large stalks of bananas – my favourite fruit – which I had not seen since 1939/40. I bought a complete stalk and shared them with John – they were delicious.
The temperature in Moncton was well below zero and a good covering of snow was evident. The cold could easily cause frost bite but it was a dry cold and providing that we were well covered, including ear flaps, a good walk would generate a pleasant glow.
The barrack blocks were well above RAF standards as also was the food.
We were at Moncton for only a few days whilst the “powers that be” allocated the 3,000 cadets from the Montcalm to the various training establishments in the U.S.A. and Canada.
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Canadian Prairies in January 1942
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Albany, Georgia, USA
Looking down Main Street – January 1942
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Our barrack hut – No 5 – 9th Feb 1942
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British Cadets marching back from Retreat Turner Field, Albany
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Right
Our black waiters at Turner Field Albany, Georgia
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Our train journey commenced late January – destination: Turner Field, Albany, Georgia, USA, and lasted for five days. We slept in bunks which hinged down from above the windows. The Canadian prairies and Northern States of the USA were thick with snow – see photographs.
The train stopped for a short time at Grand Central Station, New York and also at the AMTRAC main station of Washington DC. We travelled south through Virginia, North and South Carolina and Georgia and the weather became warm and pleasant.
TURNER FIELD, ALBANY, GEORGIA
Our stay at Turner Field was only for approximately two weeks during which time we were introduced to the American Army Air Corp disciplines and daily routines.
We were housed in two-storey barrack huts – see photographs – each room housed two cadets and the standard of comfort was very good. The base had its own band and this marched round the camp at 06.30 hours at Reveille, at which time we had to don our shorts and ‘T’ shirts for thirty minutes of P.E., always starting and finishing with press-ups. With this rigorous daily routine we quickly regained our fitness. Each cadet was weighed by a dietician and allocated a “weight” table in the dining room and, by that means, the calorie intake was controlled. I was on an underweight table, weighing in at just eight stone. This table had lots of rich foods and unlimited bottles of milk. Needless to say, my weight remained the same but I did justice to the food!
During our visits to the dining room we were instructed that we must only sit on the first two inches of the chair. Why this stupid rule existed I do not know, also our backs had to be upright at all times, i.e. sat to attention. At 18.00 hours we were marched to the parade ground for the last post and lowering the Stars and Stripes, at which time we had to sing the American National Anthem.
CARLSTROM FIELD, ARCARDIA, FLORIDA
Our stay at Turner Field ended with the transfer of John Player, Stan Gage and myself, along with approximately thirty American and British Cadets, in total, to Carlstrom Field, Arcadia, Florida. Arcadia was only a few miles from Sarasota and Fort Myers. Miami was approximately 200 miles further south.
Carlstrom Field had been a civilian pilot training base operated by Sembery Riddle Co. All staff were civilians except those responsible for discipline and routine flying checks. The civilians were taught on Piper Cubs whereas service personnel were trained on the American Military Primary Trainer, the Boeing PT.17 Stearman. This aircraft, although a biplane, could not be compared with the Tiger Moth. It was much heavier, more powerful, had a Wright Cyclone radial engine and, to our horror, had wheel brakes, the control of these brakes were by treadles attached to the rudder bars. This resulted in numerous ground loops with Cadets landing the aircraft in a tense condition and, inadvertently pressing down on one or more of the rudder bar brake treadles. Consequently, the maintenance staff were kept very busy repairing damaged wings.
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ILLUSTRATIONS FROM THE CADET’S HANDBOOK
LATERAL CONTROL
Ailerons – The ailerons, which are the surfaces used for lateral control of the airplane (wing down or up) are situated on the outer, trailing edge of the wing and are used for rolling the airplane ….
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LONGITUDINAL CONTROL
The Elevators – are horizontal, movable control surfaces located, on conventional aircraft, on the tail group, controlled by forward or back pressure on the stick and are used for obtaining longitudinal control (up and down).
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NB: Handbook still complete and in good condition
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FRONT COVER FROM CADET’S HANDBOOK
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CARLSTROM FIELD – 1941
Compared with the photo to the left, Carlstrom Field – 1941, as pictured above, may with all conservatism, be termed the ideal training ground for fledgling pilots.
Constructed at a cost of over a million dollars, the new Carlstrom Field facilities offer the utmost in providing for the student pilot’s health of mind and body. Moreover, every piece of flight equipment is the finest available, insuring insofar as is humanly possible, the student’s rapid advancement as a steady, dependable pilot.
The instructors at RAI have been chosen with extreme care and trained at RAI’s Instructors’ Courses to the end that you may be taught to fly by an aviator who is one of the best in the game.
It is a matter of tradition and record, substantiated by the rosters of Military and Commercial aviation, that pilots trained at Carlstrom Field have gone forth as some of the most capable in aviation’s history.
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My instructor was a Mr. R.L. Priest, a very patient man. We were all issued with a book which gave a detailed account of how to carry out various manoeuvres including aerobatics. I was allowed to fly solo on the 24th March 1942 – see Certificate in Cadets Handbook – after being checked by Mr. Jane. Further checks were made at 20, 40 and 60 hours, and if satisfactory the specified stages of the Primary Training were complete.
During our stay at Arcadia we were allowed off base – “open post” from 4.0pm Saturday until 10.0pm Sunday. After exploring Arcadia – only one day necessary – we ventured further afield to Sarasota and Fort Myers. Before being able to hire a car we had to obtain a licence from the local Sheriff which meant driving him round the block.
Eight of us shared one car. Those who had driven before and held British Licences went first and those, such as myself, hung back. However, after five cadets had taken the Sheriff round he said “Okay boys, let’s give you your licences”, so we all qualified.
John Player, Stan and I generally went into either Sarasota or Fort Myers during “Open Post” staying at the cheapest guest house we could find. Our pay was only five shillings, plus two shillings and six pence flying pay, plus six pence colonial allowance per day, i.e. eight shillings per day. The rate of exchange was 4.50 dollars to the pound. The American cadet pay was 10 dollars per day.
We met many good and generous hosts during our breaks from camp but we were amazed by the number of people (males) who wore Stetson and spurred boots, without a horse in sight!
Sarasota had a very large caravan trailer area, mainly used by Americans going south to escape the winter snows and cold weather in the north. The weather generally was very pleasant during our stay at Carlstrom but the extreme humidity made life rather uncomfortable and it was common practice to shower at least once during the night.
During our training, one of the flying exercises was pylon eighties which taught the cadet to allow for wind drift. This meant selecting a field and flying the aircraft with the wing tip held on one of the intersections, then flying diagonally across the field so the wing tip again intersected with the opposite corner of the rectangular field.
I am certain that almost all cadets were guilty of taking empty Coca Cola bottles up on this exercise and, choosing a field with cows, we would drop one after another of these bottles causing almost a stampede. The bottles gave a loud whistle during their descent. Many farmers waved their fists and tried to get our aircraft number on these occasions.
It was during my stay at Carlstrom that I heard the black staff – generally dining room and similar duties – join together after evening meal and last post, singing blues songs. They were very impressive and this practice among them was experienced by me at all of the other bases to which I was posted.
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The first batch of mail from home
Carlstrom Field, Florida
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Taken in the air, showing P.T. 17 flying above another aircraft – Carlstrom Field.
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Indian Children of Seminole Tribe, The Everglades, Florida
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Eric (left) & John – relaxing in Florida
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Home of the Stewart Family
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Dexter Ave. Montgomery
(Pop’s Car)
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Cameron Stewart at The Lake
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Four day’s leave was granted at the end of our Primary Training. John and I decided to try and hitch to Miami. Our first lift, given by an insurance collector, took us a good 150 miles to Fort Lauderdale, calling in the Everglades at Indian settlements for their premiums. We met and spoke to the Seminole Tribe families and were permitted to take photographs of their children. A second lift took us into Miami where we checked in at a hotel. We didn’t expect to arrive in Miami on the same day as we left Arcadia.
During an evening meal we were approached by a middle-aged man from another table who enquired who we were and what we were doing in the USA. He asked us where we were staying and promptly said he would ring and cancel out room because we could stay in his hotel without any payment and this included all meals. He introduced us to his wife and friends and told us that he had emigrated to America after World War I and was from Sheffield. It was our good fortune to have been in the right place at the right time!
GUNTER FIELD, MONTGOMERY, ALABAMA
We returned to Arcadia after our leave to be posted to Gunter Field, Montgomery, Alabama for our Basic Flying Training.
Gunter Field was approximately six miles from Montgomery – the capital of Alabama and between the two was Kilby prison. During our first few weeks at the base it was noted that the electric lights dipped intermittently on quite a regular basis. We later learned that it was caused by the Electric Chair at the prison – very disconcerting to know that a prisoner was being executed when the voltage dropped.
Our aircraft for basic training was the BT.13 monoplane with fixed undercarriage. The exercises taught were virtually identical to those covered during Primary Training, except that we were not allowed to carry out snap rolls as they tended to twist the plane and fuselage. See Pilot’s log book for details of flying exercises. This part of our training concentrated more on instrument flying and cross-country daylight and night exercises.
My instructor was an ex-British Cadet from an earlier course, P/Officer Rogers. He was a good instructor and I enjoyed flying with him. Formation flying – three aircraft in ‘V’ formation could be somewhat traumatic at times, wing tips had to be placed and maintained between the wing and tail plane of the lead aircraft and not more than one wing length at the side. With air turbulence, particularly during afternoon flying, it was very dodgy. We also had to carry out low-level formation flying, as low as fifty feet. On one occasion, when flying along the Goosa River, the instructor in the lead aircraft was so low that water spray splattered us in the wing planes and a man who was fishing was so startled as we swept up the river, that he jumped in. Landing in formation was also very precarious. The lead aircraft pilot signalled by hand how many rotations of the main flap he was applying – we had to apply a higher number of rotations to ensure that we didn’t over-shoot him. On one occasion, I was rapidly rotating the flap handle when it came off its spindle. I had to make a rapid break from the formation. On another occasion an oil pipe in the engine nacelle fractured, spraying the windscreen and blocking all forward vision. Again it was a
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case of breaking formation and a hasty return to base, landing with only side vision! See large photographs of BT.13 – I am flying the nearest aircraft)
My Basic Training concluded on the 2nd July 1942. Durin my stay at Gunter Field, the first anniversary of Pearl Harbour was “celebrated”. The three American services decided to hold a parade in all major cities. The British contingent at Gunter were instructed by the O.C. RAF to take part. A Union Jack Flag was obtained and had to be paraded and escorted at the side of the Stars and Stripes. The first time they brought the British Flag onto the parade ground it was upside down. We were all issued with rifles – many months since we had carried out rifle drill, and even though it was July, with temperatures in the 90 degree F. region, we had to wear RAF Blue uniform. When we took these out of our kit bags the buttons were green and it took quite some time to bring them to parade ground condition.
Following the march through Montgomery, John and I made for the ice warehouse where we could buy a water melon to quench our thirst. It was at this point that an American youth came to us and suggested we should return home with him for lime drinks. He said his parents were across the road and they would drive us home. The youth was Cameron Stewart and his parents, Vannie and Pop. John and I went to the Stewart’s house and into the country on the Goosa river, almost every open post after that day. Very often Pop would pick us up to save us getting the bus into Montgomery. At that time Pop was co-owner of a gents outfitter’s shop. Their house was typical of those in the Southern States with Clapboard outer skin and very much like a plasterboard inner lining. All rooms were air conditioned and the freezer size, huge. All windows and door frames were wire netted to keep out the flies and mosquitoes.
The American hospitality was really rather marvellous, lines of cars would be parked outside the base on “open Post” and cadets were picked up at random and entertained by families for the weekend. Pop and Vannie’s hospitality continued when John and I were posted for Advanced Training to Craig Field, Selma, Alabama – a round trip of 100 miles from Montgomery – which Pop drove every weekend to pick us up.
This was the final stage to our graduation and the Advanced Trainer was the AT.6 Harvard, a high performance aircraft within the 200 mph bracket.
My instructor on this aircraft was P/O Percival and he allowed me to go solo after 2hrs.35 mins dual instruction. My stay at Craig Field was very short. During circuits and landings at an auxiliary airfield I was involved in an accident with another aircraft on the landing strip. The other aircraft was occupied by an American instructor who had disregarded all the ground rules for taxi-ing after landing and had decided to taxi to the take off point along the same route on which he had landed. I had chosen this line of approach to land and as the aircraft had already covered most of the landing length when I approached I did not see him reverse his tracks before I touched down. With a rear wheel it is not possible to see ahead after landing, until zigzagging when taxi-ing. Both aircraft collided.
Although there was a control aircraft on the airfield my instructor advised me that I wouldn’t receive any support from the American controller as he was a good friend of
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EXTRACT FROM PILOT’S FLYING LOG BOOK
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Telegram from mum on my 20th birthday – 10th March 1942
Also received telegrams from Jessie Brown, sister Dora Dickerson and sister Ethel Dixon (all telegrams still preserved in their original envelopes)
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PICTON, ONTARIO, CANADA
1942
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Approaching Canada’s Horseshoe Falls
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the instructor. Three American Officers checked my ability to fly the aircraft and at no time was my flying criticised. However, there had to be a scapegoat and that was me.
REMUSTERING – CANADA
On leaving Criag Field I was sent to Ottawa, Canada to appear before a board of officers who controlled the training of RAF cadets both in the USA and Canada.
During my interview we discussed the events of my accident and I was asked what I thought my next stage of training should be. I requested that I be considered for posting to an advanced flying school in Canada to complete my pilot training, having now achieved 130 hours in American aircraft.
I was instructed to report to a Group Captain on the board the following day for their decision. On attending this appointment I was told that they would agree to my request but I must also give written agreement that I would convert to twin-engine aircraft and stay in Canada for at least one year as an instructor. After much thought I declined their offer and opted to be retrained as a Navigator/Bomb Aimer at a school in Picton, Ontario. As my navigational training had already been concluded in America it was only a matter of a few night cross-country exercises to complete this part of my course, plus the written exams. The bombing and gunnery aspects were completely new, including theory and practice.
I graduated at the end of November 1942 and during my stay at Picton I had the opportunity of flying over and photographing the Niagara Falls. I was also able to make two visits to the Falls.
Other places visited were Hamilton and Toronto, the latter was visited on a number of occasions. It was at Picton that I met up again with Carl Hurlington and Jimmy Milichip both of whom had been sent back for retraining from pilot courses in Canada. Carl and I stayed together up to squadron allocation in North Africa.
RETURN TO THE U.K.
We embarked at New York, along with 30,000 other servicemen, on the Queen Elizabeth I – two weeks before Christmas 1942. The journey to Greenock (Glasgow) took four days and there were no escorts as it was considered that the ship could out-run the ‘U’ boats.
Only one cooked meal was served each day and every individual was given a ticket which showed which mess and meal time, which was part of the 24 hour serving. Supplementary food could be purchased from the various shops on board [sic] It was an uneventful journey and quite the opposite to the out-going one.
On arrival in Glasgow we were held for three days on board before it was our turn to be ferried ashore, after which we entrained for the RAF centre at Harrogate.
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Last week saw the departure of another contingent of British Pilot Officers, lads who had, many of them, passed through stages of their training at Maxwell and Gunter Fields, at Selma’s Craig and Dothan’s Napier, and have since been stationed as instructors at various points in the Southeast. Many of these chaps will remember Montgomery as the site of their “getting acquainted” with America, and many of them have formed ties with our town which will endure long after this present war is history.
When, some twenty months ago, Montgomery was invaded by the British, our capitulation was prompt. We fell before their onslaught like a Sicilian village before our own advancing troops. Into hundreds of Montgomery homes these cadets of the RAF were invited, perhaps a little doubtfully, but most of them quickly established themselves as wholesome lads, a little different in surface mannerisms and speech, but actually very like American boys, and very happy to find a friendly welcome in a strange land.
What began as a gesture of Montgomery’s hospitality developed, often, into fast friendships, and many Montgomery homes became “home from home” for youths from Yorkshire and Wales, Londoners and Scottish lads. RAF blue was a common sight on Montgomery’s streets. And, as the training program progressed, RAF men who had trained here began to take part in the raids over France and Germany and in other theatres of war. Montgomery is represented on these RAF sweeps over enemy territory just as it is represented in the actions of our Flying Fortresses.
Now the sight of an RAF uniform has become a rarity. With the exception of those who sleep on the hill above Montgomery, the RAF trainees have taken their wings and gone to the combat areas. They write back to Montgomery as if writing home, and Montgomery has a warm place in their hearts. Almost without exception they want to return in happier times to revisit this heart of the deep south.
“I know you’re glad to be going home’ someone remarked to a departing officer The officer hesitated. “Well yes, of course But I shall be back…definitely”
Written by ‘Pop’ Stewart for the Montgomery Advertiser
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Receipt for diamond engagement ring
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Jessie Brown 1942
Below: Sister Eva outside No. 4 William Street, Lincoln
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I was eventually interviewed by Leslie Ames the cricketer, who decided that because of the extent of my pilot training I should be a better asset to the RAF by being posted to a Wellington Operational Training Unit acting as Bomb Aimer, second pilot and supplementary navigator. I wasn’t sure how I could cope with it all but I agreed to his suggestion. – The following day I was given Christmas leave.
At this point in my memoirs I must introduce Jessie Brown. I met Jessie during the brief time that she worked at Clayton Dewandre and we began to go out together between my attendance at evening college and also at weekends. This was the period between my acceptance for the RAFVR and actually reporting for training.
Before leaving Lincoln we agreed that if either of us met someone else we were quite free to go out with them. However, both Jessie and I corresponded on a regular basis during my stay in this country and also during my time in America and Canada. Also we spent my leaves together. When I returned from Canada we decided that our relationship was very special to us, even though we had not known or been together very long. It was during my Christmas leave that we decided to become engaged. We went to Gravesend to see my sister Eva who was in the ATS and was stationed there. She was a telephonist on a Heavy Ack, Ack Gun Site but managed a short spell off duty so we went for a meal together and shared all our news. We travelled back to London and stayed in a rather cold and drab hotel off Regent Street for the night and went to a jewellers called Hinds to buy an engagement ring. Jessie chose a white gold ring with five diamonds. The assistant in the shop gave her a diary and this diary and the receipt for the ring are together in our memorabilia. At the same time, whilst on leave, we decided that if I was again posted abroad we would marry before I left.
Imagine my surprise when on arrival at Moreton-in-Marsh O.T. Unit we were told that, on completion of our training we would be posted to 205 Group British North Africa Forces. This news meant very hurried preparation for our wedding to take place at the end of March beginning of April. With the very limited facilities available and rationing of food, clothes, etc., the planning of such an event was very difficult and celebrations had to be extremely limited. The flying weather conditions during the first three months of 1943 were atrocious and our wedding date had to be postponed on two occasions but everyone was very understanding about these changes of plan. However, it did make life rather difficult for Jessie and others trying to make final arrangements.
The first and most important stage of OTU training was to “crew up” with other members of aircrew who it was thought could work as a team. I was a member of a crew made up of Pilot – Cyril Pearce – also a 42H class member in the USA but at different air bases – Jock Taylor (Scottish) navigator – Jock had joined straight from college and was the youngest crew member; Jack Morvel – WOP/AG and hailed from Bury – said he dyed to live but now lived to die – very encouraging and jovial character; Ted Peters – London – rear gunner.. [sic] Ted was a bit of a loner but we always encouraged him to join us in our out-of-base activities, mainly in Moreton, which at that time was just packed with airmen. Our crew was all NCO, and we knitted together very well. Most of our training was night flying on long cross-country exercises – Bulls Eyes – going from cities in England, Wales, Ireland and Scotland, carrying out various laid down routines such as infra-red simulated bombing of docks,
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19th April 1943 – St. Swithin’s Church, Lincoln
Carl Harlington, Enid Scott, Eric Scott, Jessie Brown, Eva Scott, James Brown
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factories etc., which would record on camera for accuracy. On some occasions the cloud base was so thick and low that we never saw the ground from take off to landing and all navigation was done by dead reckoning and Astro-shots. Our accuracy in locating “targets” and turning points were very hit and miss, hence the postponement in completing our training. Some crews were lost during this period, either crashing in the Welsh or Scottish mountains or from the mechanical failure of the aircraft. It was also during this final part of our training we had to “stand to” for participating in a 1,000 bomber raid on Germany. I never found out the intended target because it was cancelled prior to briefing.
Our training completed – not without a few hair-raising experiences, we eventually went home on “embarkation” leave.
Jessie and I were married at St. Swithins Church on 19th April 1943 and our reception was in the ‘Gym’ room of the Rose and Crown Inn at the junction of William and Dale Street, Lincoln. We really appreciated the number of local people who helped us and we didn’t seem to miss out on anything with regard to food. Carl Harlington, who was also at Moreton and who hailed from Thorne, Nr. Doncaster, was my best man, but he was the only RAF person present, though one or two others were invited.
Jessie and I spent our wedding night at my sister Mary’s house in St. Hughe’s Street, Lincoln and the following day we travelled by train to Stratford upon Avon where we stayed in a B & B which we found on arrival – address : Sheep Street. After three days we returned to Lincoln as my leave was completed.
On my return to OTU I found that Cyril Pearce had also married during his leave, to a WAAF – Doreen – who was stationed at Gloucester. They married on the Saturday and we on the Monday.
Our final stage at Moreton was to “pick up” a new Wellington aircraft from a dispersal airfield near Gloucester and fly it on a number of exercises to ensure that everything functioned satisfactorily before taking it out to North Africa. As this exercise usually absorbed three weeks of our time, Cyril and I arranged for Doreen and Jessie to join us at Moreton for a week, I.e. the last week prior to departure. We stayed at the “Wylwyn Café” which also let rooms. One of the events which stays in my mind was our visit to the circus at Moreton. We all went along including Jock Prentice – another pilot who had also been married during his leave and whose wife had joined him at Moreton. The circus acts were extremely poor but what topped the lot was the smell – particularly when they let the lions into the “arena”. One can imagine the shouts and comments which ensued from a few hundred airmen!
We learned during this last week at Moreton that Doreen was AWOL from Gloucester, so Jessie and Jock’s wife loaned her civilian clothes to wear to hide the fact that she was a service woman, bearing in mind that the Service Police were well represented at Moreton and the surrounding area. The final day arrived when we had to say goodbye to our wives and walk to the airfield knowing that we would be flying that day, 27th May 1943 on the first leg of our journey to North Africa – which was from Moreton to Portreath in Cornwall.
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OPERATIONAL TRAINING UNIT
MORETON-IN-MARSH
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We stayed overnight at Portreath and on 28th May at 6.30am took off and set a course to go around the tip of France, across the Bay of Biscay, momentarily seeing the coast of Portugal and Spain and crossed the Moroccan coast at Casablanca. We then corrected course for our overnight destination at Ras-el-ma. On landing, at approximately 3.30pm British time, i.e. a nine hour flight, we were relieved to open the hatch and climb out. The air temperature suddenly hit us as we stepped onto the ground and we were surrounded by black people (local) in strange uniforms and cloaks and even stranger rifles and other firearms. This was the guard for our aircraft. RAF Ground Personnel took us to report in, and then to the “canteen” (tent) for our meal before going to our billet to make our bed for the night. During the late afternoon, Cyril and I changed the engine coolers to the tropical type as instructed at Moreton. We took our tropical khaki uniforms, with the “long shorts” as issued and our Blue kit had also been changed to khaki to “merge” with the desert sand.
On 29th we set course for Blida near Algeria which was the Headquarters of 205 Group. This took us across the Atlas mountain range which was a truly magnificent sight. This flight was only of four hours duration.
My only significant memory at Ras-el-ma was when we started the engines to fly to Blida. It was my job to prime the engines and then give Cyril the “thumbs-up” to crank them and, if they didn’t fire straight away I gave another pump on the primer which was at the Nacelle. Normally three pumps were required to get the engine – a Hercules Radical – to fire. No-one told us that in warmer climates two pumps were adequate and consequently flames poured out of the exhaust and burned my hair, eyebrows and singed my eyelashes. The smell was terrible but luckily I was not injured in any way. The second engine was started with two pumps and yours truly stood well back.
On landing at Blida we were told that we would be staying there the following day. This station’s billets were ex-Foreign Legion and the beds were curved upwards towards the centre from top to bottom. Here we encountered for the first time the French Loo!! We never thought we would manage to cope with it but practice makes perfect!
We went into Algeria the next day and saw oranges growing on the trees in the streets, experienced our first Arab Souk and the way of “hard bargaining” before purchasing anything. We had received some pay in Francs before going into town but, apart from buying “lunch” and coffee I can’t recall paying for anything else.
On 31st May we once again took off and set course for Kairouan, Tunisia. It was a three hour flight and we landed at 3.0 pm, having had to circle for thirty minutes because of exploding oil drums at the “airfield” which had been “touched-off” by the heat of the sun.
Kairouan was a number of white buildings just a mile or so from the airfield. This airfield had previously been a cornfield and the stubble was very much still in evidence. Steel, interlocking tracking – made in USA – had been laid on top of the stubble to form the runway and of course it became very hot and was the main cause
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of tyre bursts, of which there were many. The accommodation was all tented as was the various messes, because the squadrons were a mobile unit. The two Wellington Squadrons – 142 and 150 which had been sent from Waltham, Lincolnshire had been giving tactical night bombing support to the 1st Army which had landed at Bone. The “Desert” Wellington Squadrons who were now also based around were 104, 40, 37 and 70 and further support was provided by a squadron of Liberators, South African manned, and one of Halifax’s. These night bomber squadrons formed 205 Group and could produce between 80 and 100 aircraft for a night’s operation.
FIRST OPERATIONAL TOUR – 142 SQUADRON
I flew my first operation with Sergeant Cox, his B/A was sick. He had completed two thirds of his tour and Jock Taylor and I shared his tent. The target was a small island occupied by the Italians and from which they could attack our shipping. It was only lightly defended from air attacks and it was an “easy” target. This operation was one June 9th and the island, Pantelaria. (see log book).
We didn’t fly again until the 19th June when we flew as a complete crew – the target was Messina. This target was just the opposite to my first trip and we learned very quickly how to shorten the bombing run to a minimum and weave to avoid the AA shells which, on all major targets, proved to be very accurate. Sergeant Cox and his crew failed to return on this trip, which came as quite a shock to Jock and myself, reminding us that we were very vulnerable.
We continued to attack targets in Sicily and the area in Italy near to Sicily, in readiness for the invasion which took place on the night of July 9th when we were told to stay over our targets for at least thirty minutes dropping one bomb at a time and attracting the searchlights which we must then machine gun. Jack Morvel went into the front turret for this time over the target, which for us was Syracuse. Major targets such as Naples, Leghorn, Salerno, Pisa and all the airfields, were heavily defended by both AA guns and fighter cover. We had a few close shaves and there were a number of occasions when the AA shells exploded and splattered our aircraft and the cordite passed through the fuselage. On one particular trip over Naples when we become coned in the searchlights, Cyril had to throw the aircraft around to try and escape because the gun-fire was uncomfortably close. Jack Morvel was hanging onto flares in the tricel shute ready to release them when I warned him what was going to happen. The sudden, almost vertical bank that Cyril made caused Jack to lose balance and he fell into the side of the Elsan toilet which promptly broke loose and emptied its contents all over him. He wasn’t ‘flavour of the month’ for days after and had to replace his uniform battle dress. We did however manage to locate and bomb the target and return home – but had to make a second bombing run.
Our first tour was completed – thirty eight operations – by a visit to the Civitavecchia marshalling yards on October 3rd 1943, i.e. June 9th had started a four month period.
During that time I wrote and received many letters from home and received parcels with a variety of contents. We were entertained by professional artists on make-shift stages in the open air – names such as Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Dorothy Lamour, Charlie Chester and others. Members of the War Cabinet made visits to the Group
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142 SQUADRON, NORTH AFRICA – JUNE 1943
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From left to right : Ted Peters, Eric Scott, Jack Morval, Jock Taylor, Cyril Pearce
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from left: Ted Peters and J Prentice with two crew who were killed over Naples July 1943
Our camp near Kairouan, Tunisia
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and told us what was and was not happening and why. We complained about the rations – mainly melted bully beef and biscuits, and the cigarettes that were issued. They changed the cigarette packets from ‘V’ to Woodbines, the contents remained the same, terrible. Fortunately we could purchase various other true brands from the Sergeant’s Mess.
We made several visits to Sousse, Hammamet and other smaller coastal places for a dip in the Mediterranean.
The lovely white walled city of Koirouan was a myth, it smelled to ‘high heaven’ and we couldn’t go to the Souk unless there were five or six of us together. The Arabs were definitely objectionable, probably because we were very tight in our bargaining at “tent level”. They did however win the “top award” when they took a tent whilst five men were asleep inside!! It was quite a shock to the occupants when they awoke.
Water allowances were very limited. The daily ration for a tent of five was a five gallon drum. This had to be for washing ourselves, our clothes and for drinking. The drinking water was kept in a hole just outside the tent, using a brown pot jug which kept the water at an acceptable temperature.
The air temperatures were very high during the day but were pleasantly cool at night after sunset. It was not possible to touch metal exposed to the sun after 10.0am and it was common practice to fry an egg on a metal plate in the sun. Our wash basin was an upturned tin hat with the inside removed and fitted into the tail fin of a bomb. Other improvisations such as making a comfortable bed frame and raising it from the ground away from dung beetles, scorpions, etc. were introduced within days of arrival or were “bought” with cigs, chocolate, etc., from crews who had completed their tour and were leaving.
Flies were a big nuisance, settling on food and spreading disease. Gyppy Tummy and Dysentery were experienced by virtually everyone and ‘having the runs’ was no fun at all.
Jock Taylor went down with yellow jaundice and was in the hospital tent for at least a week. He perspired considerably and every day his shirts were encrusted with salt from the body. His feet were also very odorous – but he did consent to leave his socks off during non-flying hours!
We had to be very careful not to get sunburn as this was a chargeable offence if it prevented anyone from flying.
Our posting to Tunis arrived and we were to stay at the transit camp for further instructions, presumably to await either air or sea transport to the U.K. During our stay in Tunis we met ‘Poni’ (the only name we knew him by). He was Maltese and his mother and sister, together with himself and his horses escaped from Malta because of the siege and came to Tunis where he continued to earn his living as a jockey, with his horses pulling a ‘cart’ on two wheels around the local race tracks. They appeared to be a wealthy family and he took us around Tunis for dinners in local hotels and objected then we insisted on paying for an occasional meal.
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PALESTINE – MAY 1944
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Y.M.C.E. Building – Jerusalem
Right: The British War Cemetery
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‘Mount of Olives’
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‘Garden of Gethsemane’
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We also visited Carthage, the construction of which astounded us, with the running water and drainage system. This ancient city is a must to visit for anyone travelling in the area.
We had a severe shock when our posting came through. Only Jock Taylor was returning to the UK because of his jaundice, the rest of us were to fly to Cairo by Dakota, have leave and then proceed to Palestine where a new Operational Training Unit was being opened to instruct RAF personnel coming through from Rhodesia, South Africa and other Empire Training countries, prior to joining 205 Group.
We flew from Tunis across the Sahara Desert, visiting Tobruk on the way and landed at Cairo airport. We were taken to Heliopolis, a large transit camp about five miles out of Cairo and were incarcerated there for three weeks.
Cairo was visited almost daily. We had lots of back pay to draw upon and we visited a number of shows and night clubs. Jack Morvel blotted our copy book on one occasion when a troop of dancers were caterpillering off stage and he promptly dashed onto the stage and joined the end of the line. We had to leave but we had seen the show at half price. The Arabs in Cairo had to be watched very closely. They would steal anything, even the wealthy merchants from the Souk area couldn’t be trusted.
Eventually we left Cairo by a train which had wooden lattice seats, for two days of journeying to Tel-Aviv. Our bums were numb by the time we arrived! Upholstered seating was out because of the bugs which abounded in the Middle East and all bed legs had to the placed in tins partially filled with paraffin to prevent the bugs getting into bed with you!
Our destination from Tel-Aviv was 77 OTU Qastina. The station was only partially complete when we arrives and we were the first “instructors” to enter the station. The Sergeant’s Mess had not been completed at that stage and our aircraft had not arrived.
We spent Christmas 1943 on the Station. The accommodation was brick built blocks with three persons to a room. We had good beds, good showers new ‘mossie’ nets and plenty of storage room. The temperatures were quite moderate and we had to wear our Blues during the early part of the year.
Most of the construction work was being done by Arabs with RAF supervision. They would only work when they needed money and would arrive on their donkey, hobble the two front legs and report for duty – all very slowly. Occasionally we would unhobble a donkey, slap it on the rump and then at the end of the day watch the face of the owner then he found it was missing. They always dramatised everything that happened to them.
The airfield had been built on a small plain which was also the grazing area for local village animals. This resulted in considerable difficulties controlling aircraft movements because the Arabs would drive their sheep, camels, etc., across the airfield and runways at random. We tried to discourage them by rounding up their animals,
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BETHLEHEM
A Judean Home
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Mother of Pearl Workers
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TEL-AVIV
Boulevard Rothschild
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Habimah Theatre
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HAIFA
The Road to Mount Carmel
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Technicum
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putting them into a compound and then insisting that they pay a ‘fine’ to get them back. The local Mokta (Mayor) visited us frequently and we prevailed upon him to stop the villagers from crossing the airfield. The climax came when a Defiant hit a camel which was crossing the runway. Unfortunately the aircraft was a write-off and we didn’t think much of the camel steaks either!
Eventually we were able to educate the Arabs to keep off the runways and, if they needed to cross, to wait for a green Aldis from the control tower. The Arab women could carry very heavy weights on their heads and this was demonstrated when two of them dropped bales of compressed straw onto the runway – we had to use the 15 cwt Chevrolet to drag them clear.
Whilst in Palestine we took the opportunity to visit the sights mentioned in the Bible. Jerusalem, Gol-Gotha, Haifa, Sea of Galilee, Bethlehem. The Jewish people were not kindly disposed to us. It was the period when ships with European immigrants were being turned away and would-be leaders were conducting terrorist activities. It was necessary to always be on the alert against attack.
Our main entertainment was either visiting Tel-Aviv for the day, being invited to the Polish Armoured Division near Ramalah, or having a dance in the Sergeant’s mess. The ATS and WAAFs were brought in by truck for these occasions.
When a course of ‘pupils’ passed out, one per month, they would invite their instructors to join them in the mess to celebrate the occasion. Many did ‘pass out’ but it was quite an event each month and I never needed rocking off to sleep on such nights.
The only other significant occasion I remember was P/O Izzard who was being taught to fly on one engine. I was also in the aircraft instructing a bomb-aimer. The screen pilot asked his ‘pupil’ to unfeather the port engine and return to normal power but unfortunately he feathered the starboard engine. We were too low to recover any power and the screen pilot had to crash land the Wellington in open country. Luckily no-one was injured but the aircraft was written off.
A week later I went for the weekend to The King David Hotel, Jerusalem. When I woke up the next morning my hair from ear to ear was on the pillow. I thought that someone had played a prank on me but soon discovered that my hair was still falling out. On my return to Qastina I reported to the M.O. who sent me to Tel-Aviv hospital. The Specialist went into raptures because he had not previously seen such a perfectly defined Alopecia profile of hair loss – just in line with the medical book. He brought into his consulting room both junior doctors and nurses but my question was what could he do about it and how quickly would it grow. The response was quite negative, I was told it would re-grow but over a period of months. The cause – delayed shock from the crash landing.
During the early part of my stay at Qastina I was sent to Ballah, down the Red Sea, on a Bombing Leaders and Instructor’s course. We worked fourteen hours every day either in the classroom or flying. We had to cram a three month course into two weeks. Immediately on arrival we were given a smallpox vaccination, apparently it
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had broken out in the area. Fortunately for me it didn’t take. They tried three times but then gave me an exemption certification. The course was very enlightening – our tutor being a Squadron Leader and ex Oxford University Professor. I came second in the course with a 96% pass, beaten by a New Zealand Maori with 98% - a man with considerable retentive abilities.
I continued to teach at 77 O.T. Unit, Qastina, until the end of June 1944 when I agreed to team up with Brian Jeffares a NZ pilot to return for a second tour of operations, based at Foggia, Italy.
My other recollections during the stay in Palestine were the frogs and toads. Thousands of them came out after dark and made such a fearful noise when we walked across the grass verges and tarmac roads they just squelched under our shoes. The other was the cheapness of fruit. We had a plywood tea chest, normal size, which we would half fill on a bi-weekly basis. This would cost around five shillings. Huge grapefruit was stacked at the side of the roads, like sugar beet, and left to rot because of the lack of transportation to send them to other countries.
Jack Morval and I were, on one occasion, invited out to a meal with an Arab family by a Palestinian Policeman. Quite an experience. We sat on mats around a large dish full of mutton portions, including eyes, of which everyone present had to eat at least one. This was not pleasant but I did manage to swallow one with my own eyes closed! The Arab family were upper-class and very good hosts and could speak quite good English. I was under the impression that the Palestinian Policeman dined with them on a regular basis.
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205 GROU – FOGGIA, ITALY 1944
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Our Crew see dots:: Brian Jeffries (NZ) Jack (Canada) Snowy Ayton (NZ) Eric Scott (UK) Jack Nichols (UK)
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SECOND TOUR OF OPERATION – 205 GROUP
Our Crew:
P/O Brian Jeffares New Zealand Pilot
W/O Snowy Ayton New Zealand Rear Gunner
F/Sgt Jock Nicholls Scotland W/O Air gunner
F/O Jack Canada Navigator
F/Sgt Eric Scott England Bomb/Aimer
We left as passengers in a Dakota bound for Capodichino airfield, Naples, on 23rd July 1944. Our first touch down for refuelling was Benghazi, then further stops at Tripoli, Bari and finally Naples. Flying time was 11hrs 50 minutes but the duration of the overall journey was fourteen hours. (See Log book).
We were allocated to 37 Squadron of 205 Group flying MK X Wellingtons but these were now fitted with the MK X1V bomb sights, another Barnes Wallis invention and considerably superior and more accurate than the old MK IX. It worked on a gyroscopic principle so that if the aircraft banked the sight only rotated half the amount, thus keeping the sighting vertical. This enabled short bombing runs to be made with great accuracy and gave profound relief to the crew as this period was the time most likely to be hit by Anti-Aircraft fire and coned by searchlights.
Following two days of air tests to acquaint ourselves with the locality and hazards we were listed for our first operation to an aerodrome in the South of France. A trip of almost nine hours duration. We had two bombs ‘hung up’ and I had to chop out a section of the ‘cat walk’ above the station concerned and then release them manually over the sea.
Over the next twelve days we completed seven operations, two of which were to the Ploesti oil refinery complex near Bucharest. This was the third most heavily defended target in Europe with many searchlights, light and heavy AA guns and, I have since learned, a ratio of two fighters to every bomber.
Our losses were very high in 205 Group, around 10%, but not nearly as much as the Americans who followed us on daylight operations. They lost well over 100 aircraft each day.
Our first operation on Ploesti was quite reasonable and we were not coned, although the gun fire was accurate and the smell of cordite in the plane was quite unmistakeable we came out unscathed. The next attack was quite the opposite. We approached the target at 15,000 feet and were at least three miles away from the aiming point when a master searchlight came straight onto us, followed by at least five others. We corkscrewed, dived and did every manoeuvre possible but could not get rid of them. We were then down to 8,000 feet and being hit by light and heavy AA fire. We did the shortest bombing run ever and then continued to take avoiding action, losing height all the time. We levelled out at 700 feet, at last free of the defences and about seven miles from the target. We saw a number of aircraft being shot down and much air to air firing by observing tracer fire. We knew that some of the fires on the ground were dummies and that some of the ground explosions were to make us think that
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more aircraft were crashing than was the case. However, our losses on that occasion were high.
Following the Ploesti trips two crews in our Group refused to go on any further operations. They were court martialled and accused of ‘lack of moral fibre’, lost their rank and brevet and sent to detention. I often wondered whether the court of officers presiding had ever been to Ploesti or any similar targets. It was a very frightening experience especially with such a small force of aircraft.
We pressed on, operating through August, September and into October. Being an experienced crew we were sometimes called upon to carry out Path-finding, when we had to locate the target using flares, in Chandelier then make a second run to drop target markers of either Red or Green, then a third run to drop our bombs. Not very healthy and also we were not equipped with ‘H2S’ or ‘G’, blind target identification aids, as fitted to all four-engined aircraft operating from the UK.
Some of our operations involved dropping mines on the Danube which prevented, delayed, or damaged barges being towed with German supplies to their front lines in Hungary, it particularly restricted the supply of oil to their forces in Italy and Germany.
Dropping mines was known as ‘Gardening’ and each crew were given a ‘Bed’ or stretch of the river in which the mines must be delivered. Naval officers briefed and de-briefed us on these occasions. We usually carried four mines. When about 100 miles from the target and depending upon the terrain, we would drop to between 600/700 feet to be under the Radar beams. As the river came into view, bearing in mind that it was always a full moon situation, we would drop to 200 feet. On identifying our Bed we would further reduce height, sometimes to 100 feet before releasing the mines. This ensured that the mines would not break up on impact with the water.
Inevitably there was much light gunfire from the banks and also rocket launches on barges in the river. The rockets whistled past the aircraft but we were never hit by either of the defences and we didn’t waste time getting away.
One of our squadron crew was shot down over the river on one mine laying trip but they managed to ditch, swim to the bank and three weeks later arrived back on the squadron. We wanted to know why it took them so long!
With the Russian advance, guns and fighter aircraft became even more concentrated and targets more difficult to attack, consequently our losses also increased because of this.
About the middle of October, Wing Commander Langton, our C/O sent for our crew and told us that the Group was converting to Liberators. He said that our tour of operations would be completed in the next week or so and that we would then return to the UK. It was not worth the expense of us converting for a few operations. The following day I filled in the necessary forms to apply for a commission as I considered that this would be more beneficial to me on my return than a Warrant Officer rank
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Beside the main road from Bucharest to the famous oil town of Ploiesti, lies the beautifully tended Commonwealth War Graves Commission Cemetery. While British Defence Attaché in Romania (1979-82) the author became curious to know how the 80 British and Commonwealth airmen, who lie in this peaceful place, met their deaths between May and August 1944.
He discovered that they were from the RAF’s 205 Group which, flying from airfields in the Foggia Plain of Italy, was the night bomber component of the Mediterranean Allied Strategic Air Force. They had lost their lives during the sustained day and night offensive against the Romanian oil industry and its distribution network, the transportation system supporting the German front in Moldavia and the mining of the Danube.
The cost to the Group, against these well-defended objectives – rated third after Berlin and the Ruhr - was 254 aircrew. 154 lost their lives, 73 became prisoners, while 27 evaded capture and returned to Allied lines after many adventures. 46 Bombers were lost.
Patrick Macdonald’s account of these operations is based on the contemporary official reports and intelligence assessments fleshed out by the recollections of many of the men who were there from all corners of the Commonwealth.
‘…a riveting story, well organised and well told… Patrick Macdonald’s book convincingly justifies his assertion that this bomber offensive, though little publicised at the time was no side show when set against other events nearer to the main arena of the war and for those who took part in it.’
British Army Review
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which was imminent. I was interviewed the following day by Wing Commander Langton who said that he would forward a recommendation to Group HQ without delay.
On the 17th October we carried out what we thought would be our final operation on a marshalling yard in Yugoslavia. However, on the afternoon of the 21st we were asked to fill in for a crew whose pilot had reported sick. The target was Maribor marshalling yards in Yugoslavia. Everything went wrong on that day. The aircraft was an old MKIII and one engine was ‘playing up’ when we checked it out in the afternoon. When we went to take off the engine was still showing high mag. drop. Further work was carried out but eventually we took off fifteen minutes late and with a slower than normal aircraft. Our arrival on target was at least twenty minutes behind schedule and, of course, we were on our own. After dropping our bombs we turned for home and tried to do a bit more catching up. On approaching the Yugoslavian mountains we were attacked by a German fighter from below. No-one saw it as it was in a blind position. The damage was mainly to the petrol tank on the starboard side, so I switched both engines to that tank to save fuel.
Despite the fact that we dog-legged, changed height and changed our position every few minutes, we were again attacked about fifteen minutes later and on this occasion the aircraft went out of control. Brian gave the order to abandon the aircraft. I opened the front lower entry/escape hatch, saw Jock and Jack the navigator go forward, then picked up Brian’s parachute and gave it to him, meanwhile he was trying to slow the descent of the aircraft which was quite considerable. On trying to clip on my own ‘chute I could only feel a clip on the left side – the right hand clip seemed to be flattened. Being dark I couldn’t see what had happened. There was very little time to ponder the problem because we were over the mountains which I could see from the side window. My only chance of survival was to jump and hope that the canopy shrouds would not entangle so that the ‘chute would open.
I said a very quick prayer asking God to give me a safe landing and then swung out of the forward hatch. I then felt for the rip cord handle and pulled it. Almost immediately there was a very load crack and I was jerked into a floating situation. At the same time I saw our aircraft explode on the ground. Not being sure of my ‘angle of dangle’ I was not ready when I hit the ground with considerable force. My face hit a boulder on the mountain side – I’ve never looked so good since. It was pouring with rain and numerous dogs were barking, presumably because of the exploding aircraft.
HOSTAGE/PRISONER OF WAR
The first thing I did after releasing my parachute was to thank God for my life, and also prayed that somehow Jessie and the family would know that I was safe.
After wrapping myself in my parachute for warmth and protection from the rain I went to sleep.
The tolling of a church clock and the barking of dogs woke me at daybreak. The rain had ceased and looking around I realised that I was about one third of the way up the mountain and it was mainly boulders and scree around and below me. My face was
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stiff and sore and coated with dried blood on one side. I collected my parachute into a manageable ball and then examined the harness. The right hand clip was torn away and the remaining metal, near the harness, was very distorted. It was apparent that either a bullet or shell from the fighter had hit the clip and torn it away. The thought of such a ‘close call’ made me shiver and I was thankful for my safe deliverance. I hid my parachute between a boulder and the ground on the face away from the valley.
There was a farmhouse near the bottom of the mountain in a concealed position. I watched the activity at the house for at least three hours. The farmer came out of the house with his dog, followed by a woman who assumed to be his wife. Later, a girl who was probably about twelve years old and a boy 8-10 years started to do tasks around the farmhouse. By this time the chimney was smoking. Looking at my watch I saw it was around 10.0 am when they all returned to the house. At 11.0 am I decided that the family were harmless and that I would approach them for assistance to try and contact Tito’s Partisans.
I didn’t have any problems negotiating the descent and arrived at the farmhouse unseen. The lady opened the door to my knocking and audibly gasped. I explained who I was with gestures and she called her husband. When asking them for help I tried to explain that my parachute could be retrieved and given to them in return. The man came with me and helped to bring my parachute down to the house. I offered him a cigarette and, with the ‘hot end’ I burnt a piece of the canopy as a keepsake. What I didn’t realise was that the farmer had sent his son the alert the military authorities.
On the boy’s return the farmer motioned me to follow his son, giving me the impression that he would guide me to the Partisans.
My freedom was short-lived however, as by evening we were picked up by the Croation Military who were co-operating with the German Army and also fighting the Partisans. They were a very ‘trigger-happy’ bunch of soldiers and I knew that it was useless to make a run for it so, with a number of guns pointing in my direction I was escorted to an ancient truck and driven under guard to Gospic and the Military H.Q. where I met Snowy, Jock and Jack. We were locked in a room and left overnight but were given a meal of what seemed like pasta and jam. It was good and very welcome. I quietly asked the other crew members about Brian, whether anyone had seen him or heard about him. Snowy said he thought he had gone down with the aircraft. Apparently, just before I escaped, Snowy had gone out backwards with the turret rotated at 90° to the fuselage. This was quite a common practice and a much quicker escape route for rear gunners. Unfortunately Snowy had got his feet tangled up with the firing cables and this prevented him getting clear of the turret. He then put his helmet back on and asked Brian to hold the aircraft a little longer so that he could clear the cables. Whether he told Brian when he was clear is not known but there is no doubt that Brian sacrificed his life for his New Zealand cobber – a very generous act of self-sacrifice and discipline. I do not know where Brian is interred or whether he has any known grave.
After sleeping fitfully we were allowed to go one at a time to wash etc. Meanwhile an American-born woman married to a Croation came to see us and provided breakfast
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[Post Office Telegram]
TRANSCRIPT OF OFFICIAL TELEGRAM
Mrs E.W. Scott 4 William St. Great Northern Terrace Lincoln
From Air Ministry 73 Oxford St. PC 23/10/44
Regret to inform you that your husband 1425752 Flight Sergeant E.W. Scott is reported missing as the result of air operations on 21st October.
Enquiries are being made through the International Red Cross Committee and any further information received will be communicated to you immediately.
Should news of him reach you from any other sources please advise this department.
Letter following shortly pending its receipt no information should be given to the press.
1140 A
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and a cup of tea. She also arranged for me to be taken by a guard to the local hospital to have my face treated and accompanied me to translate when necessary. After two days in the Military Headquarter, during which we were relieved of our identity discs – much to my disgust – we were taken to the local prison and locked up in a cell about 12 feet x 8 feet with a stone floor. It was very cold and we couldn’t seem to persuade the guards to give us some blankets.
Eventually the ‘American lady’ came to see us and explained that we were not prisoners of war but hostages. She arranged for blankets to be issued and reassured the guards that we would not harm them. This conversation produced a complete change of attitude from the guards who shared their Schnapps with us and a few days later brought playing cards out. They never won, Snowy was a past master at cheating.
About one-two weeks after capture, the military advised us that they were going to hand us over to the Germans as being only hostages they couldn’t be responsible for our safety with the Russian advance. We objected and asked why they wouldn’t allow us to contact the Partisans, if they showed us their location on a map we would attempt to walk to them. They would not agree to this and the following morning in heavy rain we had to board an open lorry for transit to Zagreb and the Germans. The journey took several hours and we were soaked to the skin when we were taken into the German camp and locked in cells which were constructed of wood. A long passageway linked each cell and we quickly found out that there were American airmen in the next two cells to ours. Apparently they had been shot down a few days previous after returning from a raid on Vienna.
The Feldwebel in charge of us was a very dour, Prussian type of German and shouted at us at every opportunity, and at the same time hitting us with his rifle butt whenever we wanted to visit the toilet. The food provided was very poor, but nevertheless, it helped to fill an empty stomach. The Americans decided enough was enough with the hostility of the Feldwebel and with us in accord started to sing ‘Or would you rather be a mule’. The Germans went berserk, hitting us again with their rifle butts until the Unter Officer intervened.
The following day we were handed over to four Luftwaffe guards and taken to the local railway station where we boarded a train bound apparently for Budapest.
None of us had smoked a cigarette for some time and, on boarding the train, we saw long cardboard-type holder s with what appeared to be tobacco inside. On closer inspection, however, they were only the tubes which had been attached to Turkish cigarettes – disappointment all round. After many hours of train travel with a lot of stops we arrived at Budapest Station around mid-morning the following day. We had not eaten or drunk since leaving Zagreb. The 8 plus 4 of us were taken to the German Military Police office on the platform, given a chunk of black bread and some German sausage. It was then we heard the Russian shells falling on the City and in fact they were hitting part of the station complex. The German guards, who were all in their fifties, herded us quickly back onto the train and with civilians who were cramming into the compartments and on the carriage roofs, the train left the station leading North from whence we had come.
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[Crest] AIR TRAINING CORPS [Crest]
CITY OF LINCOLN SQUADRONS
Nos. 204 & 1237
Lindum Holme, Lindum Terrace, Lincoln Tel: Lincoln 914
From O.C. 1237 Squadron. A.T.C.
Dear Mrs Scott,
It is with very deep regret that we learn that your son, Flt/Sgt. Eric Scott has failed to return from recent operations.
We need not tell you how very proud we are of Eric’s record with us and subsequently with the R.A.F. and how sincerely we hope that you may soon receive brighter and reassuring news of him but in the meantime please remember that all ranks of his old A.T.C Squadron are with you in thought and sympathise with you in these dark times.
Yours in deep sympathy,
[Signature]
Flt. Lieut.
O.C. 1237 Squadron, A.T.C.
AIR MINITRY,
(Casualty Branch),
73-77 OXFORD STREET,
LONDON, W.1
P/424636/3/P.4.A.2.
29 October, 1944.
Madam,
I am commanded by the Air Council to confirm the telegram in which you were notified that your husband, Flight Sergeant Eric William Scott, Royal Air Force, is missing as a result of air operations on 21st October, 1944.
The telegraphic report from Air Force Headquarters, North Africa, states that your husband was air bomber of a Wellington aircraft which set out to attack marshalling yards at Maribor, Yugoslavia and failed to return.
This does not necessarily mean that he is killed or wounded, and if he is a prisoner of war he should be able to communicate with you in due course. Meanwhile enquiries are being made through the International Red Cross Committee, and as soon as any definite news is received you will be at once informed.
If any information regarding your husband is received by you from any source your are requested to be kind enough to communicate it
/immediately
Mrs E.W. Scott,
4, William Street,
Great Northern Terrace,
Lincoln.
immediately to the Air Ministry.
It is desired to explain that the reference to publication in the Press was included in the telegram informing you of the casualty to your husband in order to avoid prejudicing his chance of escape by undue publicity, should he be at large in enemy-occupied territory. This does not mean that any information about him is available but it is a precaution adopted in the case of all personnel reported “missing”.
The Air Council desire me to express their sympathy with you in your present anxiety.
I am, madam,
Your obedient servant,
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The following morning saw us travelling through Yugoslavia again, with a number of stop/starts. Eventually we stopped and, on looking out of the carriage window I saw to my horror two Typhoon fighter/bombers of the RAF, fitted with rockets. They were only 200-300 feet high and I then guessed they were going around to line up with the train. I immediately altered the guards and the Americans. The main carriage window could be pushed down to act as an emergency exit and by this we hurriedly vacated the train, ran up a grassy slope, across a village green and positioned ourselves on the protected side of a stone war memorial. The rockets hit the engine and machine gun bullets ripped through the carriages. Although the train was marked with a Red Cross the majority of passengers were German Army personnel and many were wounded in the attack and some were killed. This caused considerable bitterness and a number of army men man-handled us from the village onto the grass slope and lined us up for execution. Our guards just didn’t do anything to protect us. I bowed my head and said a prayer for all of us, fully expecting to be shot there and then. Was I frightened? very much so. I thought that I had been brought safely through a number of traumas only now to be executed.
In those few seconds, however, a German officer ran in front of the armed squad of soldiers and commanded them to return to the train, which they eventually did with reluctance. He came to us and apologised and explained that he had been a prisoner in England during the First World War and had been very well treated and was not, therefore, allowing German soldiers to ignore the Red Cross and Geneva Conventions for prisoners.
We stayed with our guards on that grassy slope until lunch time the following day when a replacement engine was coupled and the train once again began its journey North. Our destination was Vienna.
On arriving at the outskirts of the City it was apparent that all was not well. The German Officer who had protected us from the firing squad explained to us that there had been an American bombing raid on the City that morning. Many residential areas had been hit and it was too dangerous to go across the City with our guards. However, he arranged for a fit young army man to run with us across the City to the other station and hand us over to their military police – our guards were to follow in a more leisurely and safe manner. Although we were much less than fit and ravenously hungry, we ran for dear life across Vienna. Chunks of stone, brick and other forms of masonry came our way but nothing hit us and we managed with our guide to dodge the people who tried to cut us off.
We all reached the station without injury and were pleased to be handed over to the German military police who once again issued us with the usual rations of black bread and sausage, for which we were very grateful. When our guards eventually arrived we boarded a train and had an uneventful journey to Frankfurt and were incarcerated in the German Dulag Luft, i.e. the interrogation centre for airmen.
We were each locked in a cell with a bed and blanket and a barred window gave light but an electric light burned day and night. There were many bed bugs which made life uncomfortable but it had to be accepted. If the toilet was needed we had to pull a cord
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Dulag-Luft Germany
13TH NOV 1944
I have been taken prisoner of war in Germany. I am in good health – [deleted] slightly wounded [/deleted] (cancel accordingly).
We will be transported from here to another Camp within the next few days. Please don’t write until I give new address.
Kindest regards
Eric Scott
F/Sgt
R.A.F.
[Telegram]
TRANSCRIPT OF TELEGRAM
Priority CC
Mrs. E.W. Scott 4 William St. Gt. Northern Terrace, Lincoln
From 73/Oxford St. PC 966 W1/QW/PP
Information received through International Red Cross Committee states that your husband F/Sgt Eric William Scott is prisoner of war in German hands.
[Page break]
near the door and this dropped a wooden lever on the outside. When the guards were sufficiently satisfied that a prisoner could go to the toilet without seeing anyone else they opened the cell door and escorted the person to the toilet. Food was put into the cell by the guards three times each day. Breakfast consisted of two thin slices of black bread coasted with erstaz butter and jam. Lunch was a thin ‘watery’ soup and one slice of bread. Evening meal was once again black bread and sausage. I had four interrogation sessions whilst at Frankfurt, all were during the night between midnight and 4.0am. My interrogator was the same officer on each occasion. He offered me a cigarette which I took and, when he turned his back to me to look at a map, I took two more cigarettes from his box and put them into my pocket. Following several threats, because I had no proof of identity, with the absence of my dog tags, he told the guard to return me to my cell. After being locked up again I took a cigarette from my pocket but then realised that I had no means of lighting it – I had fallen for that one very easily.
The remaining interrogations were very similar to the first except that during the last one he told me more about 205 Group than I knew, so he was well informed.
Finally they sent me down to another part of the building for political interrogation. The next cell to me was occupied by an American and it was possible to talk to each other because the cells were open-topped. It was during this interrogation that I learned of the death of President Roosevelt. The following day and about ten-fourteen days after my arrival at Frankfurt, I joined the rest of our crew and entrained for a POW Camp.
We had an uneventful journey to Bankau, Upper Silesia and Stalag Luft VII.
Just prior to leaving Frankfurt we were each given a card to fill in for sending home saying that we were prisoners of war and were well. Also a cardboard suitcase with American-style clothing was handed to us through the Red Cross. This consisted of a great coat, pair of boots, four pairs of socks, woolly hat, two vests, two pairs of pants, two shirts and part of a Red Cross parcel of food.
STALAG LUFT VII
On arrival at the camp, most of the occupants crowded at the entrance to see if there was anyone they knew. It was then that I learned of the Arnhem fiasco and that the Dulag Luft housed many of the Glider Pilots. The entrance to Stalag Luft VII was by two large gates about twenty yards apart and both were well guarded. The compound was rectangular, with accommodation huts down each side. Each hut had at least six rooms off each side of a central corridor. The hut was about eighteen inches above floor level to allow the dogs to go underneath. Each room was equipped with a coal stove mounted onto a steel plate and eight bunks – four upper and four lower.
I was allocated an upper bunk in the first room on the left in the second hut on the right looking from the entrance of the compound. The rest of the inmates of the room were Aussies, a New Zealander, a Scotsman and English. In the same hut were two other Lincoln people, a Glider Pilot taken at Arnhem and a wireless operator shot
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CUTTINGS FROM THE LINCOLNSHIRE ECHO
[Newspaper cuttings]
A letter from ex-Cadet E. W. Scott brings the good news that he has been promoted to Flt.-Sgt. And is at present in Italy, starting on his second tour of operations. Flt.-Sgt. Scott is a bomb-aimer and has seen service in North Africa, Sicily and Italy. On completing his first tour he had a short leave in Egypt and then went to Palestine, where he has for several months been instructing. He is now looking forward to finishing his second tour and then coming home.
LINCOLN FLIGHT-SERGT IS PRISONER OF WAR
Flight Sergt Eric W. Scott, R.A.F.V.R, reported missing in the Adriatic theatre of war two months ago, is a prisoner of war in German hands
His wife, formerly Miss Jessie Brown, of William-street, has received a post-card saying that he is well, but as he was expecting to be moved, told her not to write until she heard from him again.
Flight-Sergt Scott is the second son on Mr. and Mrs F. Scott, of William-street, Lincoln, and before joining the R.A.F. in 1941 he was employed in the research department at Clayton-Dewandre Co. Ltd. He was a member of the 1237 squadron Lincoln Air Training Corps.
Members of the squadron will be very pleased to learn that their old comrade Eric Scott, now a prisoner of war in Germany, has been granted a commission. Apparently this very excellent news came through about a week before he was reported missing, but his relatives have only recently been notified, and it is still doubtful whether Eric himself yet knows he is now a pilot officer. Congratulations, Eric, from your old squadron.
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Goodbye to the Wimpeys
ROME, Monday. – The Wellington bombers with the R.A.F. in Italy, the “Wimpeys,” have been replaced by Liberators for land warfare, it was announced tonight. Only a few remain for anti-submarine and shipping strikes.
Their four-year record began with the famous “mail runs” to Benghazi. Since then they have ranged over all the battlefields, from Iraq through North Africa to the Apls and the Balkans.
But now, said an R.A.F. officer tonight, “the old ladies are just not fast enough.” – Express News Service.
down in a Sterling [sic]. A third Lincoln man, by the name of Dennis Martin, was also in the camp.
The compound was enclosed by (a) danger wire approximately eighteen inches from the ground and fastened to posts driven into the ground at regular intervals. If anyone crossed the wire, for whatever reason without permission, the guards could legitimately open fire. (b) About ten yards further out from the ‘danger wire’ was the inner fencing, strong with barbed wire and with the top angled inwards. (c) A third fence, similar to (b) encircled the compound and was made in a similar fashion. Between (b) and (c) were coils of razor sharp wire about three feet in depth.
Four sentry boxes were positioned down each side of the compound and one at each end – the latter being centrally located. These boxes were approximately twenty feet from the ground and gave each sentry a good vision of his area. All boxes housed a ‘searchlight’ which arc-ed across the compound at regular intervals during darkness or could be manually moved by the sentry. A machine gun was also mounted in each box and each sentry had his own rifle. All were loaded.
When playing ball games, including golf, if a ball went over the ‘danger wire’ limit the guard had to be attracted and his permission obtained to retrieve it. Even then it was a bit dicey and it was advisable to have a number of the prisoners on hand when going beyond the wire to ensure that the sentry knew he was being watched.
The total number of inmates during my short stay there was 2,600. I arrived mid-December, the camp had only been opened the previous July. Some POW’s had, however, been transferred from other camps to ensure a smooth routine and operation. Our camp leader was an Australian, Bill Thompson. I met him again at a POW reunion about twelve-fourteen years ago at Nottingham. He was a good and hard working leader and all complaints from POW’s and German Staff were channelled through him. The escape committee consisted of six POW’s (old hands) who vetted each plan for escape. Many were turned down but, even when accepted, the people concerned had to wait in the queue. Many POW’s helped out with escape details, i.e. false papers, uniforms etc. The camp included a library and school. There was no shortage of teachers, some were tutors from the top Universities in the UK.
The Auditorium was also well used to promote plays, particularly those with satire against the Heronvolk, which usually resulted in the German Officers stamping out before the end. The German guards with or without dogs patrolled the compound and huts every day to try and ensure that prisoners were not engaged in activities which were ‘verboten’. Gardening was a regular task for prisoners, when the opportunity was taken to bury the spare radio. The news from the BBC was circulated to each hut once a day. Only two men knew who held the radio, the one who retained it and the camp leader. It was the duty of the occupants of the camp to keep the Germans occupied to ensure that the maximum number of guards were needed to operate the camp.
Every morning and evening all prisoners had to fall in by hut in the compound and be counted. Because I was relatively short in stature I was asked to be in the rear or middle line of three and, after being counted to move swiftly to a point in the line yet
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[Drawing]
BLOWER/COOKER-POW CAMP-STALAG LUFT V11
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to be counted. This ‘false count’ often meant being ‘on parade’ for at least one hour and, with the weather being extremely cold and with falls of snow it was no joke but had to be done. The senior NCO of the German guards became very hysterical and fired his revolver in the air if, by the third count, the number was one or two out of the official number.
With the two other Lincoln men I went for a one hour walk around the compound each day and then spent time making blower units for sale on the weekly market. A good blower, for high speed cooking was worth three blocks of chocolate from a Red Cross parcel. In the short time I was in Stalag Luft VII I made three blowers. See sketch.
Each prisoner received a Red Cross parcel each month. This meant that there were two parcels to feed the eight men in each room every week. The British parcels contained a tin of skimmed powdered milk, 2 blocks of high calorie chocolate, 100 cigarettes, dried prunes, tins of spam and corned beef, a very unique tin opener, tins of fish, flour, sugar, a pack of margarine, currants or raisins, tea and cocoa, the American parcels also had coffee. These supplemented the loaf of black bread, ersatze [sic] butter made from coal, ersatze [sic] coffee made from acorns and the watery soup plus sauerkraut, which was plentiful and was collected by one room member from the cookhouse each mid-day.
It was on one of these occasions that one of our POW’s was shot and killed by a sentry guard. The camp and Bankau air raid sirens had sounded about one hour previously. When this happened, all POW’s had to return to their rooms. This was quite a frequent occurrence and American Fortresses once again flew over the camp on the way to their target. We had to wait for their return before the all-clear sounded. On this particular day the Bankau all-clear was heard and it was past 12 o’clock – which was the time for collecting food from the cookhouse. Even after a further five minutes we did not hear anymore sirens so one sergeant, thinking that the camp siren must have gone, dashed out from his hut to be the first in the cookhouse queue. Half-way across the compound he was shot and killed.
Pandemonium broke out. POW’s with artistic flair immediately took pencil and paper to draw the facial details of the sentry. German officers tried to disperse the POW’s but there were far too many for them to make any impression. Our camp leader and two assistants came along with the Prussian Camp Commandant when he insisted that the sentry should be photographed and his name and other details should be given to our Camp Leader for action to be taken by the appropriate authorities at the cessation of hostilities. The sentry in question was relieved of his duties and posted without delay.
Sometimes ‘SS’ troops were brought into the camps for guard duties as a rest period and it was necessary to be very wary of these young Nazi enthusiasts.
Bearing in mind that I went into the camp in mid-December 1944, I was soon ‘volunteered’ by the other seven room occupants to try and make a Christmas pudding.
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[Newspaper cutting]
SCATTERED in the path of the Allied armies are many prison camps and internment camps. Some in the east, as the map shows, have already been overrun by the Russians.
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We had the flour, fruit and milk mix, also sugar and it was possible to buy potatoes and carrots from the Germans for a few cigarettes. My biggest problem was knowing what to cook it in even though it could be steamed. One of the room inmates had a spare pyjama jacket so it was unanimously decided that the pudding mix be stuffed down a cut sleeve and tied at both ends. This was done with great ceremony and the pudding steamed in a large gammell with a tube bottom made from tins out of the Red Cross parcels. We were usure regarding timing but decided to steam it on the stove for two hours.
On Christmas Day our mid-day dinner consisted of :
STARTERS
Mixed Stewed Fruit
MAIN COURSE
Fried Spam, Fried Potatoes, beans cooked in a tomato sauce
SWEET
Christmas Pudding
We finally had to steam the pudding for another hour. It was very solid and only a very small amount could be eaten. We shared the rest with other rooms in the hut. To say it tasted like Traditional Christmas Pudding would be an exaggeration but we enjoyed it and slept well during the afternoon on an unusually full stomach.
Although the food at Stalag Luft VII, supplemented by parcels, kept us going we didn’t increase in weight, rather the opposite for most POW’s. However, I remained at about 8 stone. On the Squadron my weight was between 8 1/2 – 9 stone.
The week after Christmas there were strong rumours of the camp having to be vacated because of the rapid Russian advance into upper Silesia. We were advised by our Camp Leader to make preparation for moving. I made a back-pack from my papier-mâché suitcase which measured about 18” x 12” and was waterproof. Four holes, one punched in each corner, allowed me to thread rope through to form shoulder straps for carrying. In this suitcase went spare vests, socks, pants, shirt and the blocks of chocolate I had been hoarding for such an occasion.
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[Postcards]
Postcards written on 10th and 17th December 1944 from Stalag Luft V11 just prior to the forced march
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On the 18th of January, with snow up to 12” deep and temperatures 10-15 degrees C below zero, we were told that we would be leaving Stalag Luft VII by foot at 4.0 pm that day, i.e. at dusk. We were each handed a Red Cross Parcel, the contents of which were distributed around our bodies. The first night of walking and freedom was a welcome experience. Each dawn, or thereabouts, we went into a farm and into the barns or cattle sheds to sleep. Because of the depth of snow my socks were always wet. I wore two pairs at a time to try and keep my feet warm. The pair I took off went into my shirt to dry and a replacement pair of dry socks put on before going to sleep. On one occasion during the first seven days, a pig had been slaughtered and made into soup in a large cauldron. The demand far exceeded the supply so I didn’t get any. The contents of the Red Cross Parcel virtually vanished after the first week. Washing faces and hands was a problem and generally had to be done using snow. My boots were pushed into the hay or at the side of a cow in an attempt to keep them above freezing but, with very little success. Generally it was necessary to hand-manipulate the shoe leather in order to get them on when it was time for moving.
The weather conditions became worse, blizzards as well as icy conditions – it was really appalling. Our breath froze in our beards and it had to be gently warmed by hand to prevent it being a mass of ice.
By this time the novelty of freedom had well worn off and airmen who had been injured during their bombing trip or on baling out and crashing, were very much the worse for wear. Some had to be left behind in houses, the occupants being mainly of Polish origin in Upper Silesia. Our rate of progress was very slow, about 20 miles each night.
The second week of walking was similar to the first except that the men were getting weaker and with little or no food provided our tummies started to shrink and become painful.
By February my chocolate store was exhausted, even though I had used it as a supplement to whatever food I could find, mainly frozen sugar beet, which now became my staple diet. A number of men went to sleep in the barns and didn’t get up again for the next night’s walk. Others collapsed at the roadside in the snow. Whether they were taken care of by the local inhabitants I don’t know. Even the German guards were dropping out because of hunger and cold.
There were occasions when we were urged to cross a bridge over a river and, on reaching the other side, the bridge was dynamited. We were surprised at this because all the rivers were frozen solid and could easily have carried vehicles.
At this stage of our journey we were allowed two nights each week to rest up because we were so close to complete exhaustion. We were told that we were heading for Luckenwalde Stalag IIIA, near Potsdam, Berlin. We were also told that the German High Command had been told to execute prisoners rather than hand them over the advancing British, American and Russian armies. We still managed to get news information so our radio was still with us.
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[Letter]
Letter sent to home – March 1945 – from Stalag IIIA
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There were so many days during the latter part of this forced march that I would have been quite willing to have laid down and died but yet it seemed so futile to give up after having endured so much since October 1944. I prayed very often for help to keep going and for a successful return to Lincoln but my expectations were very much tinged with the prospects of not making it at that stage of the march. The appalling weather continued and I felt very much like a zombie, just putting one foot in front of the other because the man in front of me was doing the same. We came to a point in the journey when the Camp Leader said enough was enough and told the Germans that they either abandon all of us to await the Russian Army or they provided transport for the remainder of the journey.
After three days at a large farm, where we did get a little food and where I saw airmen fighting each other for a piece of meat in a stew because of their hunger, we were walked to a railway embankment and, by helping each other, boarded a train with cattle truck accommodation. This was sheer luxury compared to walking.
A three day stop/start journey with the train halting each night, brought us to Potsdam and a relatively short walk to Stalag IIIA.
It was apparently late February but time didn’t mean anything anymore. The size of this camp was staggering. We were told that it held around 75,000 people, the majority being displaced workers of all nationalities and age ranges. Children were even being born in the camp.
From a military viewpoint there were Russian, Polish, French, Dutch, British and Americans. On arrival at Stalag IIIA we were each given a Red Cross Parcel. The priority however was for a shower and shave. It was apparent that we were covered in body lice and, even after showering and putting on a clean vest, the lice quickly reappeared in all of the vest seams. Boiling the vests and our battle dress tops in tin baths on open fires did not make any difference. When I first went into the shower I was stood next to the C of E Padre. He was at least 6ft 3in. tall and his ribs were really hollow and I just laughed but, when I looked at my own ribs they were identical. The small bar of swan soap – similar in size to that issued in hotels – just disappeared between our ribs. We were a good case of a starvation diet and over exercise. When the German doctors re-X-rayed us they also weighed us, I was just six stones.
With regard to the Red Cross Parcels, Lofty the Glider Pilot, sat in the aircrew compound, opened his tin of Peanut Butter and ate the lot – no bread or anything with it – it gave me a nauseating feeling just watching him. We didn’t know how long it would be before we got another parcel so we made this issue last as long as possible. The shrinkage of our stomachs also meant that we didn’t need much food to feel full.
Three weeks after arriving at the camp there was a full scale battle, with air attacks by both sides across the area. We had to take whatever cover we could as bullets and rockets passed across the compounds. We made a large white cross and laid it on the compound floor between the line of huts. The battle see-sawed back and forth for three days – it seemed more like three weeks. At first light on the third day all the German guards were gone and we were in control of our own compound. I immediately went to the German medical centre to try and pick up a Leika camera, a
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[Photograph]
Badges from a German Uniform
[Photograph]
[Photograph] Issue of RAF Watch – still working today
[Photograph] Right: Prisoner of War identification tag
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[Record Card]
RECORD CARDS RETRIEVED FROM CAMP RECORD OFFICE (see over)
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[Record Card]
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number of which were used for X-raying. I was too late but moving onto the record office I managed to find my own record cards and these I kept.
The Russian army arrived in strength the same day. Tanks just crushed the barbed wire fencing so that one side of every compound was open to free movement of prisoners. The Russian prisoners in the next compound to us went berserk. They were immediately given access and disappeared with the advanced Russian troops who were all of Mongolian extraction. The general appearance of the Russian advance troops was very rag-tag. Lorries had hard tyres, mules were used for towing guns, the soldiers didn’t have tin hats and their rifles and automatic weapons, etc., were of very varied make. Some were weapons captured from the German army.
When the main body of the Russian soldiers arrived they were all uniformed and more disciplined. However they were not well disposed towards us and if we wanted food we had to find it in the locality. Lofty and I went around the area including the outskirts of Potsdam to see if food was available. Many houses had been abandoned in a hurry but the food left behind was very meagre. We went into a Tailor’s shop and it was there that I found and kept a pair of scissors which I have used for decorating ever since. I also thought that the considerable length and very sharp points of the scissors would be a handy weapon if needed for my defence.
The Russians placed large tubs on open fires and made their yoghurt. This was all the nourishment they could offer us but the smell from the sour curds was terrible and despite my hunger I just could not eat any. Lofty however, devoured both portions! Many of the Russian troops had not seen flushed toilets before and continually came into the compound toilet blocks, put their feet into the bowl and pulled the chain several times, grinning all over their faces.
It was at this time ant a Russian took my watch and did his best to steal my wedding ring but he relented eventually and left me. A senior Russian Officer, with many aides, sat at a table in our compound and we had to file past giving our name, number, origin, nationality, etc. This took over a week to complete as many POW camps of British airmen had been sent to Stalag IIIA, including those from Sagan. Hence we now had a Group Captain, demoted by himself to Flt. Lt. in charge of the British aircrew contingent, irrespective of rank.
He advised all the men not to try and make their own way to the West of the Elbe because we would again be taken prisoner or shot by either side. The Russians wanted to arm us and send us into the battle for Berlin but of course this was refused based on the Geneva Convention. The Russians did not acknowledge this. Their next ploy was to send us home via Moscow. We were the first major bunch of British aircrew released and our leaders again refused this, really upsetting the Russians who put a loose guard around our compound.
Some days after the Russians had ‘released’ us numerous American trucks turned up at the side of our compound. All were driven by black soldiers and unarmed. Two white American officers were in charge and they had apparently been sent, with agreement by the Russians, to collect us and take us across the river Elbe to the American sector. The Russians who were responsible for us didn’t want to know and
32
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[Crest]
CATERPILLAR CLUB
26th April, 1945.
Mrs. Scott.
4, William Street.
LINCOLN.
Dear Mrs. Scott,
[Underlined] F/Sgt. E. W. Scott. [/underlined]
I was very glad to hear from the above that he had saved his life with an Irvin chute, and at his request have pleasure in sending his membership card herewith.
I regret that due to supply restrictions we are not able to order Caterpillar Pins for Prisoners until after the war, but one will be sent as soon as available.
Please excuse the form letter, but this is due to pressure of work.
With best wishes for his early return, I am,
Yours sincerely,
[Signature]
Leslie L. Irvin.
MEL.
Encl. Card.
[Photograph] Cloth Caterpillar Badge
Right: Membership card of the Caterpillar Club [Photograph]
Below:
Two Caterpillar pin badges
[Photograph]
Piece of silk burned from parachute after bailing out
[Photograph]
[Page break]
put an armed guard around the trucks and flatly refused permission for us to move. This situation continued for three days, then the American lorries were allowed to return – empty to their sector. One or two men managed to get away rolled in a tarpaulin in the trucks. One of these was Dennis Martin who went to 4 William Street and told Jessie that I was alright.
After a further two days we were ushered into Russian lorries and driven to the Elbe and once there we disembarked, crossed the river on foot by pontoon bridge and given a terrific welcome on the other side. We were all still full of body lice and, as we passed through a medical tent, we were checked for T.B., and D.D.T. was pumped from small guns down our vests and shirts.
The Red Cross, bless them, issued us with toilet and shaving gear. It was a very painful, but necessary task to remove my beard of three-and-a-half months, although I had done a rough trimming job with the tailor’s scissors. My battle dress trousers gaped open just above the leg pocket due to the material having rotted, particularly with boiling them in an endeavour to lose the lice. I looked more like a tramp than an airman.
We stayed with the Americans for two days and had some wonderful food, but could only manage small amounts.
Air transport them took us to Brussels airport where we were again given a warm welcome and fed and watered. After a further twenty-four hours it was my turn to board an RAF Lancaster to fly home. It was May and, although I had missed V.E. day, I though with a bit of luck I would make V.J. day. I never did identify the airfield at which we landed but we were bussed to a railway station and boarded a train – normal passenger service – to Cosford. I felt really uneasy being among civilians again and my torn uniform and general appearance in the compartment was cause for comment by the other occupants. The other significant factor was that I had no idea of the current news so couldn’t make any conversation. A lonely journey and one of self-consciousness.
On arrival at RAF Station Cosford I was ushered into a queue, in line with a table, behind which sat a records clerk with a sheaf of papers. These tables extended from one end of a hanger to the other. When it came to my turn the clerk asked me for my RAF number, rank and name but none of these appeared in his papers. He then asked me whether I had received any mail from home and I told him I hadn’t. The question now was, did my wife and other members of my family know that I was alive. I told him that I had sent the usual pre-printed card from Dulag Luft Frankfurt and had written letters home, Even so I had no evidence or knowledge of whether they knew I was a prisoner of war.
This lack of evidence, plus the fact that I was not on the register of returning prisoners caused me considerable concern. I couldn’t telephone anyone because I was not aware of telephone numbers. The clerk gave me papers to get clothing equipment, badges of rank, medal ribbons, shoes, and the many other pieces of equipment we had to have in the RAF. After visiting the ‘tailor’s shop’ where numerous local women were sewing on all the badges of rank etc., I took my equipment to a hut allocated for
33
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[Newspaper cutting]
In memory of the PoWs of the ‘Long March’
By Peter Davies
[Photograph]
The commemorative statue by the sculptor Pamela Taylor
THE MEMORIAL to RAF prisoners of war who died on the ‘Long March’, unveiled by the Duke of Edinburgh at the Royal Air Force Museum, Hendon, yesterday, is a reminder of one of the Second World War’s most extraordinary – yet unsung – feats of endurance amid extreme privation and suffering. This was the enforced march of British, Commonwealth and Allied PoWs to western Germany from camps on the eastern borders of the Third Reich in the winter and spring of 1945.
In the summer of 1944, with the Red Army already on the borders of Germany, there were around 200,000 RAF, army and naval PoWs, besides thousands of Americans, in camps dotted throughout Germany and the occupied territories. Many of these lay in the east of the country and included Stalag Luft III, of Great Escape fame, 100 miles south east of Berlin. Others were more remote still: in East Prussia, Poland and Czechoslovakia.
To prevent their occupants being liberated by the advancing Russians, Hitler ordered that they should be marched westwards, out of harm’s way. Put in charge of this operation was an SS lieutenant-general, Gottllob Berger, a man with a history of brutal suppression of unrest in the occupied territories. However, with the Third Reich collapsing around him he seems to have felt it might be politic to ignore the Führer’s severer orders for the treatment of PoWs.
In the chaotic conditions of Germany in early 1945 when the evacuations began, this scarcely made any difference. Driven from the shelter of their camps, bullied, beaten and hectored by their guards, shot dead if they lagged behind or fell by the wayside, a quarter of a million PoWs stumbled and shuffled their way hundreds of miles to the west, without adequate food, shelter or clothing, in the bitterest winter Germany had experienced for 50 years.
The harrowing tale of the 86-day trek of the inmates of the notoriously brutal Stalag Luft IV at Gross Tychow in Pomerania to Fallingbostel in Lower Saxony, 500 miles distant, may stand as representative of the collective ordeal. A number of these prisoners had already made the 250-mile journey by sea from Stalag Luft VI at Heydekrug on the borders of Lithuania the previous summer, piled below decks in the disease-rife hold of a rusty cargo boat.
The march-out from Stalag Luft IV began on February 6, 1945, with the temperature 20 degrees below zero and with snow falling. Just 11km were covered before nightfall. Blisters on feet were soon bursting, opening them to infection. In the extreme cold resistance to disease was soon eroded. Injuries suffered in baling out or in combat were exacerbated.
Over the following interminable ice-cold days some lucky few might find a barn to lie in at night, but most were compelled to lie in the open. In snow- and waterfilled shell holes men clung to each other for warmth under a shared greatcoat. When guards were not looking the men raided the fields for potatoes, turnips and mangolds.
Raw rat became a delicacy. At times men were reduced to chewing grass. So near to starvation were they that one PoW recalled looking at his arm, suddenly realising it was a piece of meat and wondering, lightheadedly, whether he could bring himself to take a bite out of it.
The men were plagued with lice and the constant battle to rid themselves of them was a losing one. “If you kill one a thousand will come to its funeral” was the grim PoW saying. But the killer was dysentery, robbing men of their vitality – and dignity. In the utterly insanitary conditions it was almost impossible not to catch it. Men often chose to soil themselves as they marched, rather than falling out to risk being shot. Yet no one could afford to discard even the filthiest rags in the intense cold.
The brutality of their guards was compounded by the hostility of a populace who regarded the airmen as Luftgangsters and Terrorflieger as a result of the widespread damage from bombing raids. Friendly fire in one form or another was a constant peril. As the Stalag Luft IV men entered Swinemunde, bombs were falling on the port, while shrapnel from the flak defences fell among them.
In one of the worst incidents another group, ex-inmates of Stalag Luft III, were targeted by RAF Typhoon fighter bombers. In spite of frantic gesticulations by an officer who bravely exposed himself to cannon fire, waving his RAF greatcoat aloft, more than 60 PoWs, including him, were killed by pilots who could have no reason to imagine that a column on the move consisted of other than the enemy.
The figures for those who perished on these marches can only be estimates. Somewhere in the region of 10 per cent did not survive the ordeal. Commissioned by the Royal Air Forces ex-PoW Association, Pamela Taylor’s iconic study of a PoW dragging his remaining possessions on a makeshift sled commemorates those who did not reach the end of their terrible journey.
An extract from The Telegraph Newspaper after a ceremony to commemorate those who died on the ‘Long March’. Summer 2002
‘The marches were long and desperately arduous. Some POW’s walked for more than 500 miles and were on the road for many months. Hundreds died of exhaustion, disease and starvation. Those who survived were awed by their experience. How they escaped with their lives and eventually reached home is a gripping story of endurance and courage.
Extract from ‘The Last Escape’ by John Nichol & Tony Rennell
[Page break]
us to ‘disrobe’ and shower. Our old uniforms were dumped into large containers but I did remember, however, to keep the piece of my parachute canopy and also my POW’s identity plate, together with the tailor’s scissors – my acquisition from Potsdam.
After donning my new uniform and packing the surplus equipment in a kit bag, I reported to the station orderly to collect a travel warrant, food coupons and some clothing coupons. My train time to Birmingham was given to me and I caught the next ‘lorry’ to leave the camp for Cosford Station. However, I had to stay overnight at Derby Station because of my lateness of departure but caught the early morning train to Lincoln to arrive home around 5.00 -6.00 am.
As I neared Lincoln I began to panic because of not knowing whether Jessie and the family knew of my existence. I walked from the Midland Station and arrived outside the door of No.4 William Street – and knocked.
Jessie came to the door with Dad’s mackintosh over her – we couldn’t believe we were together again. Everyone got up, even Grandma Dowse, to welcome me home. They did know that I was safe and had received my letters. It had been eight weeks however between receiving the ‘missing’ telegram and getting my first card from Dulag Luft, which was much longer than the norm for being advised. This of course was due to being held as a hostage and also travelling unnecessarily to arrive at Frankfurt.
Coming home was a wonderful experience and it was necessary to once again get to know my wife. There were both emotional and mental problems to pass through. I suppose today these would be dealt with by counselling, but such a process was not known in 1945.
Within twenty-four hours of getting home Jessie told me that I had been commissioned and had even received my new RAF number. The commission was backdated to my application in October 1944. It was therefore necessary for me to return to Cosford to obtain the changes of uniform, clothes coupons, shoes, socks, shirts etc. This meant staying two days at Cosford and then returning to Lincoln, but using first class travel. What a difference a day makes!
On my return home I went to Atkinsons the military tailors to be measured for my ‘best blues’, peak cap etc. All of this I had to pay for myself. I had already purchased a Canadian Crombie great coat from an officer who was being demobbed at Cosford before returning home. It was of better quality than could be obtained in the UK and was in excellent condition. I was able to obtain my mackintosh coat straight away so for May was adequately equipped.
After a few days in Lincoln Jessie and I went to Bridlington for a week. We stayed at Maud Gilberts, she had lived in Lincoln on Great Northern Terrace and Jack and Ethel had helped and supported her when she lost her husband at Dunkirk. As she hailed from the North East she had eventually returned to Bridlington.
34
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[Photograph]
Flying Officer Eric William Scott and Mrs Jessie G Scott
[Photograph]
Identity Disc
[Photograph]
New Wings
[Photograph]
Final entries in Observer’s and Air Gunners Flying Log Book
[Page break]
I forgot to mention that my leave was for sixteen weeks and if I wanted anything either medically or otherwise I had to report to RAF Wittering, near Peterborough. Jessie gave up her job to be with me. As it happens I did have to go to our local G.P. because a rash of spot appeared on my body. He said it was caused by enrichments of the blood with returning to a normal diet. During my leave I went into town towards mid-day and to the Black Bull in the Hight Street as I had learned that returning military personnel congregated there. On my first visit I was amazed to see my old school friend Frank Curtis. He was a WOP/AG on Halifax’s, flying from Yorkshire. His left leg was missing, apparently having been virtually severed by shell fire whilst attacking flying bomb sights [sic]. He had been in hospital for some months but was now home on indefinite leave and on crutches. He was married to Lillian who unfortunately had contracted TB, but recovery was hopeful. The four of us spent many happy hours together and I travelled with Frank to Ely hospital to try on his new tin leg. After two or three visits he eventually came away with his tin leg on. It was a painful process learning to walk again, but eventually he succeeded in using it permanently with the help of a stick, and handed back his crutches.
During my sixteen-week leave I was visited by Jack our Canadian Navigator and I also saw Jock Nichols at Cosford. Snowy I did not see but learned from other New Zealand Ex POW’s that he was on a draft to return home, so that accounted for the four crew members who had safely returned to the U.K.
Wel all enjoyed V.J. day together – Frank and Lillian, brother-in-law Jim and sisters-in-law Mary and Janet, the latter cartwheeling down the road and also paddling in the beck. My leave came to an end and I reported to RAF Wittering where they fed us on venison and knocked us into shape military fashion. I was volunteered to lead a flight of NCO’s and other ranks on an official parade in Peterborough. I had forgotten all of my drill procedures so had to go ‘cap in hand’ to the Station Warrant Officer for verbal and physical instruction to enable me to carry out this function. So Flying Officer Scott had his first official function to perform since being commissioned.
After two or three weeks at Wittering I was re-musterd as a Flying Control Officer and posted to Pershore, near Evesham. We worked in three eight hour shifts 6.0am-2.0pm being the first. It was interesting work and, with the aid of a batwoman (WAAF) who kept my uniform, shoes, etc. immaculately clean, woke me at the appropriate times for duty, made my bed, changed towels, dealt with the laundry etc., life was quite good. Another officer who had been on flying control at Pershore for some months had rented a house in Cheltenham and his wife and daughter lived there whilst he commuted every second day to stay with them for 36 hours, which was allowed within the shift system.
It transpired that he was going on leave for two weeks and that the house would be vacant for that period. He gave me the opportunity of living there with Jessie for that time, paying rent and fuel costs. We jumped at this opportunity of being together and Jessie travelled down to Cheltenham, Ist Class! to meet the departing wife and family and to get to know the house and its workings before they actually left.
I had already received my cycle from Lincoln so, on my 36 hour break from duty I would pedal into Evesham, catch the Black and White bus to Cheltenham and they
35
[Page break]
[Photograph]
Jessie and Eric with Jacqueline - (aged three months)
[Photograph]
Vickers-Armstrong Wellington III
Postcard sent from Jack and Marjorie Morval on 1st August 1994
[Page break]
would look after my bike. It was a good arrangement and we really enjoyed that time together, even visiting Weston-Super-Mare. On departing Weston-Super-Mare on one particular visit we decided we would purchase a block of ice cream to take home. We put the block on the luggage rack above us as we were on the front seat near the door. Imagine our surprise on seeing runny ice cream dripping off the rack at the back of the bus. It was definitely a case of keeping a ‘low profile’! Cheltenham at that time was a very high class Spa town and we explored it thoroughly.
Following Jessie’s return to Lincoln, I was sent to Watchfield, the place where my flying began, on a Flying Control Officer’s course. This lasted two to three weeks. I then continued my duties at the control tower at Pershore until my demobilisation became imminent in August. The RAF advised me that they would be willing to extend my commission, but would require me to be posted to Hendon as a flying control officer on passenger transport. I pondered this issue and received much advice from both service friends and those at home. I decided eventually that if I stayed in the RAF both Jessie and I would be shunted around both in the UK and overseas and that our times apart would be unacceptable. I advised the RAF that I wished to be demobbed. Towards the end of August I reported to London where I received the necessary discharge papers, sports coat and flannels etc. and a travel warrant to Lincoln.
My life in the RAF was at an end and my leave was given to the end of September. After a week at home, before which Jessie had moved from 4 William Street to her mothers at 61 Great Northern Terrace, I reported to Clayton Dewandre to take up my career again as a technician. Because of my break in apprenticeship I was classified as a Dilutee. My weekly salary was £4.19s.6p, barely a living wage but somehow we managed.
Jacqueline was born on 18th of October 1946 at Great Northern Terrace and was the first baby to be delivered by our ex Royal Navy GP Dr. Leane. He always referred to her as his first demob baby.
That winter of 1946/47 was very cold with hard layers of snow. A quick thaw in April 1947 caused widespread flooding in Lincoln and we had to move out, going uphill to my sister Mary’s in St. Hugh’s Street. It took many days of mopping up, cleaning and disinfecting to make our two rooms habitable again.
In June 1947 we acquired a house to rent at 22 Chelmsford Street, through the good auspices of George James’ mother (sister-in-law Janet’s mother-in-law) who knew the Landlord, a Mr. Dalton.
After six/eight weeks of hard work we moved in and this was really the beginning of our life as a family.
36
[Page break]
[Newspaper article]
THE
Prisoner of War
THE OFFICIAL JOURNAL OF THE PRISONERS OF WAR DEPARTMENT OF THE RED CROSS AND ST. JOHN ORGANISATION, ST. JAMES’S PALACE, LONDON, S.W.1
VOL. 4. No. 39. THE FINAL ISSUE July, 1945
Message from Field-Marshal Lord Chetwode
THIS is the last issue of “The Prisoner of War.” There is no longer any need for the journal since those who were prisoners or internees in Europe are now free and with few exceptions are at home again.
The Red Cross and St. John War Organisation rejoices that this piece of its work has been finished. No Editor, I am sure, ever saw his paper come to an end with such satisfaction as the Editor of “The Prisoner of War.”
The flow of letters that has come from next of kin has told us how eagerly each copy of the journal was looked forward to each month. Time and again, mothers and wives have written to say that it has seemed to bring their dear ones nearer to them. I am certain that all who were prisoners and are now happily restored to their families will remember it as one of the best services which the Organisation has rendered. Their gratitude is a reward which we are proud to have earned.
To every man who has been a prisoner, and to every family now reunited, I wish a future of abiding peace and renewed happiness. They will all be mindful, I know, as are we in the Red Cross and St. John War Organisation, that war still rages in the Far East and that men and women of our race are held captive by the Japanese. There we still have work to do and for their next of kin we shall continue to produce “Far East,” the sister journal of “The Prisoner of War.” I am confident that we shall have the good wishes and the active support of all to whom, directly or indirectly, this journal has been a source of comfort during the three years of its existence.
The Editor Writes –
IT falls to me as Editor to make my final farewell in this last issue of The Prisoner of War. At the beginning of 1944 I wrote in these columns that the best New Year’s wish I could offer to all our readers was that before many months had passed they would no longer be our readers. That wish was fulfilled for some, as the repatriation ships came in during the year, but for many the eagerly awaited day was deferred until victory had been won. To-day there are no more Kriegies, no more letters from German camps and lazarets, no more Red Cross parcels – and no more need for this journal.
I cannot believe that any editor ever owed so much to so many of his readers. It has been on their letters, and those they received from their men in exile, that this journal has been built up. We depended on them for most of the news and all the photographs of life in the camps that we have published.
“Far East” will Continue
Far East, our companion journal, which started on its separate existence near the beginning of last year, will outlive us. It will be published as and when information becomes available about the lot of those in the hands of the Japanese. Unhappily news in the past has been rare, and the services that it has been possible for the United Nations to render have been limited, irregular, and unevenly distributed. But everything that it is humanly possible to do is being done. The Governments, the Red Cross Societies, the Protecting Power, the International Red Cross Committee and their delegates on the spot are leaving no stone unturned to bring succour to the prisoners.
“Not Forgotten”
On other pages of this last issue appear articles by the heads of the various sections of the Prisoners of War Department which have ministered to the many needs of prisoners in Germany and Italy. For all of them and their colleagues their work has been in the nature of a mission cheerfully and lovingly undertaken in the knowledge that they were not only succouring fellow-countrymen and women in exile but were helping them to realise that they were not forgotten by those at home.
F.M. Lord Chetwode, O.M.
On this page appears a message from Field Marshal Lord Chetwode, O.M., the Chairman of the Executive Committee of the Red Cross and St. John War Organisation. It is upon him, as its supreme administrator, that the heavy burden falls of directing and inspiring the manifold human activities of the Organisation.
Not the least of the reasons why hundreds of thousands have had cause to be grateful to the Organisation for its work during these war years had been its “personal touch.” Sir Philip Chetwode crowned his brilliant career as a soldier by this great mission for the men in the Forces. Our readers will join us in congratulating him upon the barony which the King had conferred upon him in recognition of his distinguished work for sufferers in this war.
IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS
(See Page 16)
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
The memoir of Eric William Scott
Description
An account of the resource
Text and numerous b/w photographs (some of which are also located in sub-collection albums) covering from immediately before and during World War II - (1939-1946). First page has colour photographs and description of prisoner of war medal. Continues with account of RAFVR training including time at the Air Crew Reception Centre, St John's Wood, London, initial training at Stratford-upon-Avon and elementary flying training at RAF Watchfield. Gives account of journey to the United States to continue training on the Arnold Scheme at Turner Field, Albany, Georgia, Callstrom Field, Arcadia Florida, Gunter Field, Montgomery Alabama and Craig Field, Selma, Alabama flying Stearman, BT-13 and Harvard. At the last location an accident brought an end to his pilot training and he continues as navigator/bomb aimer at Picton in Ontario Canada. Pages contain many photographs, exttracts from the cadet handbook and his logbook. On return to UK he did operational training a RAF Moreton in the Marsh where he crewed up. He got married just before posting to North Africa. Gives account of journey to join 205 Group in North Africa and of first tour on 142 Squadron where he flew 38 operations and of life in North Africa. After this he was posted as an instructor to an operational training unit in Qastina Palestine where he had an opportunity to visit Jerusalem, Haifa, Bethlehem and Tel Aviv. In June 1944 he agreed to do a second tour and was posted to 37 Squadron at Foggia in Italy. Gives account of operations including gardening in the Danube river. Gives account of final operation to Maribor marshalling yard in Yugoslavia where after attack by night fighter he baled out of his aircraft. Follows with account of capture by Croatian military. hand over to the Germans and journey to Stalag Luft 7, Upper Silesia and life in prisoner of war camp. Then underwent the long march back to Germany in the face of Russian advance. Concludes with repatriation and life after return to England.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
E W Scott
Format
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Thirty-seven page printed document with text and photographs
Language
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eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BScottEWScottEWv1
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
England--Lincoln
England--Bedfordshire
England--London
England--Warwickshire
England--Stratford-upon-Avon
England--Wiltshire
England--Manchester
Scotland--Glasgow
Canada
New Brunswick--Moncton
United States
Georgia--Albany
Florida--Arcadia
England--Gloucestershire
England--Cornwall (County)
North Africa
Algeria
Algeria--Blida
Tunisia
Tunisia--Qayrawān
Middle East--Palestine
Middle East--Jerusalem
West Bank--Bethlehem
Israel--Tel Aviv
Israel--Haifa
Italy
Italy--Foggia
Romania
Romania--Ploiești
Slovenia
Slovenia--Maribor
Poland
Poland--Opole (Voivodeship)
Germany
Germany--Potsdam
England--Shropshire
Florida
Georgia
New Brunswick
Israel
West Bank
England--Lancashire
Danube River
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1941-02
1941-10
1941-11-03
1941-12
1942-01-06
1942-01
1942-02-09
1942-03-24
1942-05
1942-06
1942-07-02
1942-11
1943-04-19
1943-05-27
1943-06-09
1943-10-03
1944-06
1944-07-23
1944-10-21
1945-03
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
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Anne-Marie Watson
Conforms To
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Pending text-based transcription. Under review
142 Squadron
37 Squadron
aircrew
bale out
bomb aimer
Caterpillar Club
Dulag Luft
Flying Training School
Harvard
lack of moral fibre
love and romance
mine laying
navigator
Operational Training Unit
pilot
prisoner of war
RAF Cardington
RAF Cosford
RAF Moreton in the Marsh
RAF Watchfield
recruitment
Red Cross
searchlight
shot down
Stalag 3A
Stalag Luft 7
Stearman
the long march
Tiger Moth
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/477/10243/LBrileyWG1586825v1.1.pdf
1fafc8f88de868c2a3d32e67ebd8d4b0
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
Briley, William George
George Briley
W G Briley
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Briley, WG
Description
An account of the resource
Eight items. An oral history interview with Warrant Officer William George Briley (1586825, Royal Air Force), his log book, service material and a sight log book containing <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/987">18 target photographs</a>. After training in South Africa, George Briley completed 39 bombing and supply dropping operations as a navigator with 40 Squadron flying Wellingtons from Foggia in Italy. <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by William George Briley and catalogued by Barry Hunter, <span>with additional identification provided by the Archeologi dell'Aria research group (</span><a href="https://www.archeologidellaria.org/">https://www.archeologidellaria.org</a><span>)</span>
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-10-09
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.
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
William George Briley's observer's and air gunner's flying log book
Description
An account of the resource
Observers and air gunners flying log book for Wiliam George Briley, covering the period from 2 December 1943 to 24 November 1945. Detailing his flying training, operations flown and communication flight duties. He was stationed at, East London, RAF Qastina, RAF Foggia and Athens. Aircraft flown in were, DH82 Tiger Moth, Anson, Empire flying boat, Wellington, Defiant, C-47, Fairchild Argus III and Liberator. He flew a total of 39 operations, 26 night and 13 daylight operations, consisting of 28 bombing operations and 11 supply drops. Targets were, Ferrara, Bologna, Milan, Athens, Brescia, Szekesfehervar, Solonica, Borovnica, Danube, Verona, Bronzolo, Tuzla, Sinj, Vragolovi, Predgrao, Zakomo, Podgorica, Novi Pasar, Chiapovano, Szombathely, Bugojno, Matesevo, Casarsa, Susegana, Salcano, Doboj, Circhina and Udine. His pilot on operations was Sergeant Hanson.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
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.
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
LBrileyWG1586825v1
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
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending review
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Mike Connock
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Bosnia and Herzegovina
Croatia
Greece
Hungary
Italy
Montenegro
Middle East--Palestine
Serbia
Slovenia
South Africa
Bosnia and Herzegovina--Bugojno (Opština)
Bosnia and Herzegovina--Doboj
Bosnia and Herzegovina--Tuzla
Croatia--Sinj
Danube River
Gaza Strip--Gaza
Greece--Athens
Hungary--Székesfehérvár
Hungary--Szombathely
Italy--Bologna
Italy--Brescia
Italy--Bronzolo
Italy--Casarsa della Delizia
Italy--Ferrara
Italy--Foggia
Italy--Milan
Italy--Susegana
Italy--Udine
Italy--Verona
Middle East--Palestine
Montenegro--Kolašin
Montenegro--Podgorica
Serbia--Novi Pazar
Slovenia--Borovnica
Slovenia--Cerkno
Slovenia--Solkan
South Africa--East London
Greece--Thessalonikē
Gaza Strip
Danube River
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943
1944
1945
1944-09-02
1944-09-06
1944-09-10
1944-09-12
1944-09-13
1944-09-14
1944-09-17
1944-09-19
1944-09-21
1944-09-26
1944-10-04
1944-10-05
1944-10-09
1944-10-10
1944-10-11
1944-10-12
1944-11-01
1944-11-04
1944-11-05
1944-11-06
1944-11-08
1944-11-10
1944-11-16
1944-11-17
1944-11-18
1944-11-19
1944-11-22
1944-11-25
1944-11-26
1944-12-11
1944-12-13
1944-12-14
1944-12-15
1944-12-16
1944-12-19
1944-12-26
1944-12-27
1945-01-03
1945-01-05
1945-01-15
1945-01-20
1945-01-21
40 Squadron
Air Observers School
aircrew
Anson
B-24
C-47
Defiant
mine laying
navigator
Operational Training Unit
Resistance
Tiger Moth
training
Wellington