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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1106/11565/ARossiterHC150913.2.mp3
fec6b127aef3d0344f0ef2e51fba0776
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Title
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Rossiter, Harry
Henry Charles Rossiter
H C Rossiter
Description
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An oral history interview with Harry Rossiter (1922 - 2019, 1332079 Royal Air Force). He flew operations as a wireless operator / air gunner with 115 Squadron.
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2015-09-23
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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.
Identifier
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Rossiter, HC
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
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AS: This is an interview for the International Bomber Command Centre at Lincoln carried out by Adam Sutch on the 23rd of September 2015 with Mr Harry Rossiter who carried out a full tour as a wireless operator on Bomber Command. Harry, thanks ever so much for agreeing to this interview. It’s fantastic to get the chance to talk to people with, with such memories. Could we start with a little about where you come from and your background before you ever joined the Air Force?
HR: Yes. I was born in Stratford, East London on the 11th of August 1922. And when I was ten years old, we moved out in to Essex. In a place called Laindon which you may, talking of the Battle of Britain I had a ringside view of that. Anyway, we’ll come to that presently. In 1938 I was a member of a District Scout Rover crew whose aim in those days was to do anything for public service and learn to lead the proper life. And part of it was I joined the air raid precautions. That was in April 1939. I took an anti-gas course. Learning all about the various types of poison gas that might be used against the British civilian population. Following on from that I became a cyclist messenger when the war actually broke out in 1939, at the age of seventeen. And it was very well organised on a district basis. The idea being that if the telephone service broke down there was an admirable means of district communication. I served in that until I joined the RAF. I cycled up to the Romford Recruiting Centre where I said I’d like to be a telegraphist in the Navy. ‘There are no vacancies at the moment but the RAF desperately need wireless operator air gunners. What about that?’ So I said, ‘Well yes. Alright. If they’re so —' [laughs] So I could do six words a minute Morse code from my time in the Boy Scouts which came in very useful. Ultimately on the 16th of January I attested at Uxbridge as 1332079 AC2 Henry Charles Rossiter. And they said to a gang of quite a lot of us, ‘We’re not ready to start aircrew training yet as far as you’re concerned. You can go home and wait six months and we’ll send for you on RAF pay. Or you can come in straight away.’ So, we all looked at one another. Well, we’d all said our goodbyes and whatnot so we’ll come in. And so, a group of us was sent to Northern Ireland on ground defence outside Lisburn, Lisburn Landing Ground it was called, which actually was a blessing in disguise because by the time we did start aircrew training we was marching like all seasoned airmen. And I noticed that particularly. One of my, a chap I became rather friendly he came straight out of the [unclear] university and he was seen, found crying because he was homesick. But by the time we left there he was just one of us and quite a decent chap. I do hope he survived the war. His uncle was an air vice marshal and he wrote to his uncle several times, ‘When are we going to start our training?’ In August ’41 we did. I went to Blackpool to do Morse training. And then we were sent to ground operating to get experience and so I went to 16 Group Headquarters in Gillingham which was an area combined headquarters. And I was there for six months doing ground operating. Which is very useful. I’ll tell you a funny little story about that. The sets we had were like packing trunks. About, you know, about a foot wide, deep, called the Tin 84. Thirteen valve set, excellent radio. And there was a repair gang that used to go around keeping them in order. One of them was a Sergeant Moran and he was known, always known in his absence as Spike Moran. So, one day I’m sitting there and it went dead. And instead of engaging brain before mouth I said, ‘Spike. My radio’s dead.’ And of course, he came and thumped his fist on the table, ‘How dare you call me Spike? Sergeant Moran to you’ [laughs] Anyway, profuse apologies and the set was fixed. In August ’42 [pause] wait a minute. I’m ahead of myself. I said I went to Morse training. I forgot to say in the August, in the Autumn of 1941 we went to Yatesbury in Wiltshire where Number 2 Signals School where I did my radio. And I played, I played trumpet in a brass band in a dance band and cornet in a brass band and my training suffered for a little bit. But anyway, I passed and as I say we were sent on ground operating. Then in August ’42 went to Madley in Herefordshire to do flying training. We flew in the Domini. That’s a twin-engine aircraft with five, five students, the pilot and instructor. And we took it in turns to sit on the radio and do an exercise. I wondered what that scruffy looking biscuit tin with the rope handle was doing in the corner but I managed to keep my food to myself. That’s alright [laughs] Anyway, following on from that we did some training in the Percival Proctor. A single engine aircraft. Just myself and the pilot. And I passed alright and then I was sent to gunnery school in Walney Island just off the coast at Barrow. Now these, the Gunnery School there used the Boulton Paul Defiant. Rather unusual for gunnery training but that’s all they were fit for really after their initial success and of course they were quite good as a night fighter. But the fighter, fighter command couldn’t use them anyway. Did my training on Defiants. This is August. No, it was later than that. My memory [pause] where were we? Oh yes. I’ve got it here. September 1942 posted to Air Gunner’s School, Walney Island. And of course, it was still summery weather and after we’d done our little detail the pilot hopped along the beach to Blackpool and we flew along the sand almost at zero feet. All the holidaymakers waving to us. And after that we finished our gunnery school, gunnery course. ‘We want four volunteers for Coastal Command,’ So, Bomber Command’s not too clever these days. Yes, all right. What we didn’t know of course was that it was to train on torpedo bombers. The Bristol Beaufort which wasn’t very clever [laughs]. To cut a long story short we went to Number 5 OTU where they trained people on Bristol Beauforts. A crew of four. A pilot, the observer who was a navigator/bomb aimer and two wireless operator/air gunners. And we were quite a happy team as regards the crew. And then we did our torpedo training and then they said, ‘Right. You’re going off to —' They didn’t tell us in words of course. It was a bit hush hush but what it transpired, what it came out to us we were to reinforce 217 Squadron in Ceylon. So we found ourselves at Portreath in Cornwall on the 12th of June ready to fly out. But the radio, there was trouble with the radio so delayed for twenty four hours. Anyway, we flew out and when we got to Karachi in India where all the aircraft entering India had to be serviced and made ready for tropical service, you know. Water tanks and all that sort of stuff. Special air filters and all that. They declared all Bristol Beauforts were now obsolete. Considering that we went to the Bristol Aeroplane Works and collected a brand new Beaufort and it had got twenty hours off the assembly line it seems an awful waste of taxpayer’s money. But there it was. We kicked our heels at the aircrew transit port in Poona. And all aircrew in those days were more or less during the war quite multi-national. A lot of Australians. And of course they kicked up a fuss. They were a bit uninhibited and who could blame them? They’d come all the way from Australia and then they’d only been messed about by the stupid poms as they called us. Anyway, be that as it may. In November we left Bombay on a troop ship and got home eventually on the 4th of January. And after leave we went to the Advanced Flying Unit in Millom to start re-training on Bomber Command. And after training we joined a squadron, 115 Squadron on the 15th of August 1944. And the rest, and the rest as you say is history. Not quite I suppose because we had and we were very lucky. We were attacked by night fighters several times but the skill and the sharp eyes of the gunners and the skill of the pilot we never received any damage at all. The only time we did the Germans were holding out at Le Havre. We went there four times. The first couple of times were rather, was a bit tragic in a way because a lot of Frenchmen got killed. They’d sent us to the wrong place. But the last one we did we were well and truly we found them and they put a cannon shell in our port outer. We stopped it but a Lancaster can fly well on three engines so we were in no danger but that’s how low we were. They said, ‘Do not bomb below nine hundred feet if the cloud base is at such.’ The bomb aimer, being a very enthusiastic Northern Irishman, I won’t use his exact words he just said, — concern [laughs] ‘The flak. Let’s bomb.’ Which we did and as I say we got a cannon shell in our port outer for our sins. The only time we ever got damaged. And I remember standing up in the astrodome looking, plugged into my radio, making that extra pair of eyes and in the night time it was, well it’s as though you’re watching a film in a way. I can’t quite explain it. Deep down you were, you were scared. Anybody who says they weren’t either have got no imagination or they’re telling lies. You couldn’t help it. You knew damn well what was going on. I mean you could see a Lanc, a Lancaster, it wasn’t quite as pitch black as you might think. What with the fires we were flying over and the searchlights you could see quite a distance and you could see a Lancaster suddenly a big, a great big red ball of fire. A big ball of fire as they say, there it goes, and the bomb aimer would say, ‘Chalk port.’ Which meant somebody had got it, you know. And that’s how it was. And then we did a lot of daylight raids and that was another danger. I’ve got the piece here to show you in here. This is, this is A Flight. The Flight I was in. Yes. Those two aircraft, those mentioned on there, they said they collided. But we had other ideas about that because we were bombing on radar. Very accurate. There was a great deal of accuracy with this stuff called GH. And it resulted in several aircraft trying to be in the same spot in the same, in the sky at the same time. And of course, what happened? They dropped their bombs on the one below. And though it just, it just says they collided. But three times standing looking up I looked straight up in the open bomb bay of a Lancaster direct above us. Obviously, they knew we were there otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here but three times that happened. It was scary that was.
AS: And because both of these aeroplanes are down as collided —
HR: Yeah.
AS: The explosion took both aeroplanes out.
HR: Absolutely and that means Runnymede panel. That means there’s no known grave.
AS: Yeah.
HR: At Runnymede there’s a memorial to twenty seven thousand RAF and Allied aircrew who have no known grave.
AS: Yeah.
HR: So, some of them just, well they were all atomised I suppose you’d say. A full bomb load. Two aircraft colliding on their way to Dortmund. That’s where we were going. And the last occasion we were flying our last drop and there’s a bit of a tradition to be try and be the first back. So, the skipper tried a little experiment. I was looking out the astrodome and I could see the bursts of the anti-aircraft. They had got our height exactly and each burst was coming closer. The rear gunner said, ‘Skipper. They’re knocking on the back door.’ So he quickly dived back into the cover provided by Window. Metalised strips that confused the German radar. That was the other, that was the other case when we nearly, when we were in danger. But David, David Jenkins, the pilot, he was completely unflappable. If you look at that photograph, you’ll see. The next. He’s the tallest one. Now, that one, that’s Bill Ranson, a pharmaceutical chemist in civvy street. He was about ten years older than us. A hard headed Yorkshireman. And [laughs] they didn’t get on too well together but it never showed up because we functioned as a very good crew together. But he would sometimes say, ‘Jenks,’ he called him Jenks for short, ‘We’re one degree port of track.’ [unclear] Completely unflappable and he rightly got the DFC. If, if you look, if you look at that I can tell you. That’s the flight engineer. He was, he was a regular. He joined as a boy, a boy entrant, as a mechanic. That’s the mid-under gunner. Where are we? See that there? That’s a .5 sticking out the bottom. He sat astride a big hole with a .5 pointing up like that because the Germans used to go underneath.
AS: That is unusual. Does, does that mean then that you didn’t have H2S?
HR: That’s right. Yes.
AS: You had a .5 fitting.
HR: That’s right. Yeah. And next to him is Bill Ranson I told you about. That’s Bob. Bob Patton from Dungannon. The bomb aimer. And that’s myself. And that’s Bill Gorbon, the rear gunner and this chap is Reg Bijon from Vancouver. Royal Canadian Air Force. He’s the mid-upper. So we had eight in our crew instead of seven.
AS: So, many nations. From Canada to Yorkshire.
HR: Oh yes. Yeah. They had a lot of Australians, New Zealanders. One or two West Indians. Several Canadians. Bomber Command was really a multi-national force. One of our flight commanders was from the South African Air Force. And he achieved a little bit of notoriety. Well, that was the wrong way because he was doing a good thing. Towards the end of the war the Germans had taken all the food they could from Holland and they were starving. So 115 Squadron was selected to drop them some emergency food parcels. The Germans agreed not to fire on them and this chap, this South African, Captain Martin his name was, he led, he led the first drop of food to the starving Dutchmen. Later on, of course it was very well organised. And when the war ended the Americans joined in as well and dropped it. Ever so many food parcels for the starving Dutchmen. Anyway, so our tour came to an end of ops. We all went our different ways. I think I’m the only surviving member, they’re all they’re nearly all dead now, they are. I used to keep in, keep in quite contact with him. Bill Gorbon. He moved to Canada. Who else? Oh and of course, David. David Jenkins, the pilot. They’ve all, they’ve all shuffled off I’m afraid. I’m the last surviving member of the crew. Now, what are my thoughts about Bomber Command? Well at the time we were doing a job to shorten the war. Occasionally you thought, you know, those poor buggers down there are getting the rough end of it. But then we were told it was necessary because there was a lot of talk about area bombing. We were always given a target to bomb. Factories. Always factories. We did a lot of Ruhr bashing. And there’s only one, one occasion when we were aware of it. We did a raid on Stettin which is a long way away. We took off, we took off at dusk and landed at dawn. We were out all night on that one. Nine hours ten minutes. And it was a ship repair facility and the idea was to burn the workers out of their homes so that they couldn’t work on the ships. That was the idea. Now the only time we ever mentioned, ‘Your target tonight is the old city of Stettin which is occupied by a lot of people repairing ships. If your raid is successful, they won’t be able to any more.’ It wasn’t particularly aimed at the population. It was just aimed at their houses so they had to move out. Whether it worked or not I don’t know. We did several raids on Stettin. The raid I did was with another crew. That’s how I came to do thirty ops, because normally only the pilot, his first trip was with another crew so the rest of the crew only did twenty nine but I did another one with another crew and that’s how I did thirty. After my ops I was posted to an air sea rescue station at Beccles. They were flying the Warwick which was like a larger version of the Wellington and they could carry an airborne lifeboat. It dropped on three parachutes. And on the station strength there I was working in the ops room as what they called signals briefing. If a crew was going out they all took it in turns to put them up to date if there were any changes. I always used to remind them make sure you switch your sets on and check that they’re on. Because there was [laughs] an unfortunate incident that happened regarding a rather senior member. Anyway, that’s by the way. That was part of my job and while I was on the squadron. I was promoted flight sergeant. And in due course of time I was promoted warrant officer. Well, the station closed in August ’45. Just after VJ day. And 280 Squadron as they were were sent up to Thornaby on Tees. So, there we are. There were four of us, four warrant officers doing this job, signals briefing as it was called, and we were all out of a job. And the chap who took over the command of the station said, ‘Look you chaps I’ve got four jobs for you. Pick them out and please yourself.’ And we looked and one of them was station warrant officer. And that’s the one I picked. So, I suddenly found myself the senior NCO on the station. Only about a hundred and fifty men left because they were just packing up stores mainly. But I had a job to do and I did it. And one of them, before the signals staff were posted away, ‘Mr Rossiter would you like to take the wireless operators out in the perimeter track and give them a spot of drill?’ I thought yeah okay, ‘Righto sir,’ and I did. And they, you’re not supposed to move when you are giving orders. So, I’ve got a good voice and they’re marching along and a lorry went by just as I shouted out, ‘About turn.’ And you’ll never believe this. Half of them turned and the other half didn’t. So, they were [laughs] ‘About turn,’ and of course they both turned inwards and they collapsed with laughter, you see. This is perfectly true and it couldn’t, it couldn’t have been worked better if they’d prepared for it. It was so funny. But that was my experience of drilling. Anyway, the time came when the station completely closed and they sent me up to Thornaby to do the same job with the squadron. Briefing. Signals briefing. And I was discharged from there. Well there’s one little thing. My Lorraine was born in March ’45. She was just coming up to fourteen months old and my wife said, ‘Can you try and get a pushchair?’ Well there was a Halfords. Just across the river from Thornaby is Stockton on Tees and there was a Halfords there. And I bought a pushchair for the grand sum of two pounds ten shillings. Quite a sturdy thing and just before I left Thornaby the group captain said to me, ‘Well, I see you’ve had a year’s signals experience. You’d probably keep your rank if you stayed in the regular Air Force,’ because normally you drop a rank. He said, ‘You’ll probably keep yours but I can’t make any promises.’ I said ‘Well sir I’ve got a daughter — a wife and daughter, and I think my first loyalty is to them. So, thank you very much sir but I must decline the offer.’ So, the following day I’m walking out the station. I’ve got a kit bag, an attaché case and a pushchair. Transport. And I walked out and he came by and said ‘I see what you mean by domestic responsibilities!’ he said [laughs] Yeah. That ends my tale of RAF service and — any questions?
AS: Absolutely, Harry. That, that is the best, most joined up, most coherent presentation I have ever seen.
HR: Thank you.
AS: Ever heard. Thank you very much for that. I think we’ll pause and have a chat about some of the things that are in it if that’s alright.
[recording paused]
AS: There is of course more after RAF service, Harry.
HR: Yes. When I was discharged from the RAF in May 1946 I could strip a Browning gun in the dark and I could send Morse and receive Morse code at eighteen words a minute. I hadn’t got enough flying hours in to join civil flying so I went where I could earn money and it turned out to be the Ford Dagenham. Ford’s at Dagenham. Building gear boxes. The pay was good and their formula was very simple. You work and we’ll pay you accordingly and I got a decent wage but my health began to suffer. I did six years. There I was, half asleep, taking the gear box off the line, putting the back end on, putting it back on. Forty seconds that took and I could do it without thinking about it. Anyway, as I say my health began to suffer. I was always catching colds and my hands were perpetually permeated in grease. So wherever I did, you know. Anyway, I said to Edna, my wife, ‘I need to get out of there. I need an outdoor job.’ Right. You know, ‘You can see I’m not all that much.’ She said, ‘Why don’t you join the police force?’ Well, I was horrified. Me a copper? But it was the best thing I ever did.
AS: Yeah.
HR: Because I was outdoors. The middle photo there is when I was a village policeman. A constable. Village constable. And the one above is my wife standing at the door of the police house. A place called Horndon on the Hill in South Essex. And I had six very happy years there. Or we did. They used to come and speak to her as much as they spoke to me because if she didn’t know she knew where, some way to find out and she was very popular in the village. And she loved it and so did I. But in the fullness of time they decided to make me a sergeant and I was posted to Chelmsford and I was in the town there. And then I was sent on a rural section. I don’t know if you ever watched that programme “Heartbeat.” Well it’s similar to that but, mind you not all my men were on duty at the same time. I had to spread them out over like most of the day and night. But that was called a rural section at a place called Danbury which is an Essex beauty spot. I stayed there for six and a half years and then I bought my own, we bought our own house in Braintree. This particular job, a rural sergeant you had to live on the job. So they posted me back to Chelmsford town where I was a station sergeant for about six months. Then I asked to be transferred to Braintree where I was living. So, I finally finished up resigning, retiring from Essex police in August 1977 after twenty five years’ service. And then I went to the Lord Chancellor’s Department in charge of court security at Chelmsford Crown Court. And then I became a county court bailiff. And that was a most interesting job. As a county court bailiff you were entitled to, you were able to do, make legal arrangements. Suppose you owed this sum of money I would come to you and say, ‘Now, you owe this sum of money. How can you pay it? Have you got any way of paying it?’ Well we could manage so much a month. Well, I said, ‘Sign your goods over to me. So long as you do what you say you’re going to do you won’t see me again.’ And occasionally I would, if they were a bit overdue I’d call on them and collect the money. It didn’t matter to me. I wasn’t supposed to but the person got their money. That was the important thing. That’s why I considered that to be the most important. I did get a couple of pats on the back for it. Whenever you’re bending the rules a little. If they’re overdue you’re supposed to take their goods away. But then the plaintiff had got their money. You know. That was the most important thing. So I quite enjoyed doing that.
AS: That’s great. Look. I think we’ll pause again there.
HR: Okay. My arms hurt.
AS: Yeah.
[recording paused]
HR: We were all sent. The three of us, and my friends. The four of us who volunteered were sent to Turnberry. It’s now a golf course but it was an RAF station. On the top of the hill overlooking the golf course as it is now is a large hotel. That was an aircrew hospital. Anyway, I say there was a bunch of us and then there’s this big room. I seem to remember there was some booze knocking about. I’m not quite sure about that. I know it was all very friendly. And I started talking to a chap. He was a Londoner. A chap called Ted Hall. He came from Ely and he was a furniture designer. A bit older than me. So he came to me and he said, ‘I’ve found a nice pilot,’ he says, ‘I think he’s very intelligent. Come with me,’ So we went, and Bill Thompson his name was and he came from Largs in Ayrshire. Quite a well to do family. His uncle was Lord Mackay. He used to run British Caledonian but I didn’t know that at the time. A very likeable chap. Same age as me. A civil engineer. And then we looked around. Of course, we had what they called an observer. An observer being the one who had both trades of navigator/bomb aimer and he wore the O brevet. And we found this chap was sitting in the corner looking rather disconsolate so we went and spoke to him. He was an older man. [unclear] Monroe. He came from Wimbledon. And so he came and we, the four of us got on very well together. We were together for a year — 1943. And we never never ever had a crossed word between us at all.
AS: And you were all first tour were you?
HR: No. This was, we never did do a tour. This was Coastal.
AS: Yeah.
HR: This was Coastal Command training.
AS: Yeah. So, when you crewed up none of you had ever been on operations?
HR: Oh no. That’s quite right. Yeah.
AS: Okay.
HR: Yeah.
AS: Can you think back to, to what the OTU training involved?
HR: Yes. It’s a Coastal Command. As I say they were torpedo bombers. But they were also used for general reconnaissance. So did a lot of navigational exercises over the Irish Sea and to the northwest of Scotland. What’s the furthest outpost? I forget the name of it now. Out in the Atlantic. We had to fly there by dead reckoning and there was no problem with that. Spot on time. ETA. There it was. You probably know. I just can’t remember the name of it now. It’s a rocky outpost.
AS: Rockall?
HR: This is on the northwest of Scotland. I don’t think that was the name. No. I’m not sure. You may be right. I can’t remember.
AS: I’m rarely right, Harry. We can check that out on the map.
HR: I mean that’s, that’s how, sorry, he was good. Course we all clapped hands [laughs].
AS: Were you involved in the navigation with him? Were you taking bearings, QDMs and all the rest of it?
HR: Well, this involved mainly him. But he did ask me twice for a QDM. You know what that is of course. But mostly his mathematics were spot on which is one of the reasons why I couldn’t. I had to be a wireless operator because my, I left school when I was fourteen. A thorough training. A very good training. The 3Rs.
AS: Yeah.
HR: Excellent. Laindon High Road School. Excellent school. But, oh yeah, one thing I forgot to mention. In November, when I was on the squadron the signals leader, he said, ‘Right son, I’m putting you up for a commission’. Alright but when it came to it of course the flight commander, a Squadron Leader [Gorrey?] I remember him very well. He put a piece of paper and on it was A+B=C. He said, ‘Do you know what that means?’ And it just blinded us. And I said, ‘I’m sorry, sir. I haven’t a clue.’ I mean the most simple. I know all about it now but I didn’t know then. So he said, ‘What sort of education did you have?’ I said, ‘I left school when I was fourteen, sir.’ ‘Oh I see. Well, I’ll pass you on to the squadron commander. See what he thinks.’ Wing Commander Shaw. I remember the name. He said, ‘Well, you’ve obviously got some quality otherwise you wouldn’t have been recommended but I’m afraid your lack of education shows.’ I said, ‘Yes sir. It’s no more than I expected.’ He said, ‘Try again in six months’ time. In the meantime, find a good officer and see what your shortcomings were.’ That’s rather funny. It’s all written down there. And the Irishman, is that him, yes Bob Patton from Dungannon. He got himself blind drunk. He was missing for twenty four hours. They found him in the toilet, dead drunk.
AS: The gents, I hope.
HR: Was he a good officer? [laughs] Flying officer, in fact he was. Anyway, there we are. But the war, the war in Europe finished in six months because I’d finished my ops in December ’44.
AS: On, on the Coastal you told us there were two wireless operator/air gunners. Did you switch duties?
HR: That’s right. Well we had a gun turret in the Beaufort. Two gun turrets. So, one worked it and then another day he’d say, ‘Harry, would you like a turn and I’ll go and sit in the turret?’ That’s how we worked. Very friendly. As I say this lot we performed quite well. We all seemed to do our job. There was no arguments in the air but when we finished our tour the group captain said, ‘We’d like you to go on Pathfinders. You’re a good crew. But you’ve got to go together. So he said, ‘I’m not flying with him anymore.’ So that was that. So there, as I say we had so we had a reputation as a good crew. Otherwise they wouldn’t have said that.
AS: So when, when you’d come back from India you’d been in the Air Force quite a long time.
HR: Two years. Yeah.
AS: Were you really keen to get on to operations or —
HR: Well, yeah we were really. I mean, we were completely in the dark as to what we were going to do. Didn’t know we were going on to Bomber Command. We guessed we might be. The possibility. But we didn’t know until all of us got our embarkation leave. We thought to RAF Number 2 Advanced Flying Unit. And that’s what it was about.
AS: And so you, in a sense you’re going through the training mill again.
HR: Yeah.
AS: For a very different job. What —
HR: So 1943 was a complete waste of time because that’s when we did all our Coastal Command training.
AS: Yeah.
HR: A complete waste of time. And then when you shudder, it makes you think, taxpayer’s money. I mean. There was about twenty crews. Not as many as that. About fifteen. About fifteen. I think it must have been at least fifteen crews flew out from Portreath to India. Diverted to join 217 Squadron in Ceylon. As I say that was as far as we got. Karachi and Poona. Poona was just a, just a rest camp really. It didn’t, the CO was a Wing Commander Beck and I really felt sorry for him because he did his best. Him and his adjutant was a Squadron Leader Findlay Fleming. They did their best to find us things for us to do but the Aussies didn’t appreciate it very much. One day, oh and incidentally we were all issued with 38 Smith and Wessons when we left to go to India. Why, I don’t know. We never knew. Anyway, afternoon in Poona all taking a nap and these Indians, there’s a road ran through the camp, these Indians with their monkeys performing tricks. ‘See the monkey dance sahib?’ You know. And suddenly a bang bang bang. Looked out and there’s these chaps running for their lives. And this Aussie is sort of clinging around this post of his, blazing away, over their heads of course. ‘You, waking us up. Waking us up you silly bastards,’ et cetera et cetera. So, there was a hell of a stink of course. They called in all our revolvers. We didn’t want them anyway. But there you are. That’s typical of Aussies. There was another occasion too when we were on OTU. A couple of chaps came in late and they were arguing the toss so one of these Aussies, ‘Put that light out.’ ‘Get knotted.’ ‘I said put that light out.’ Old gunner et cetera. So he pulls out an air pistol and shoots the bulb out.
AS: Yeah. On, on this year, or more than a year when you were training and then on the Coastal and out to India did your music, did you take that through or did, as well?
HR: Yes. At various because I used to do a lot of trumpet playing. Because what happened, when I was twelve I was in the Boy Scouts Brass Band and there was [unclear] at a place called the Manor Mission which is the only part of old Laindon left. Everything else has gone. Anyway, and they had an adult brass band and one of them volunteered to be the band master. So he said to my uncle who had played tenor horn in the band, ‘If we put Harry on tenor horn you’ll see he practises won’t you?’ He said, ‘Of course I will.’ And he did. That was quite fun actually. That’s when I started playing. But we didn’t use the expression cool in those days but it was cool really for a young man to play cornet. You were playing a tune you know. You were somebody. So I did, I graduated to cornet. I tried euphonia first for a while which I quite liked but I had to get on cornets which I did. And that graduated to trumpet playing. And I played in a village dance band called the Rio 7. There were never seven as far as I knew. Edna said they were crap. Those were almost exactly her exact words. But we were the only band in the village so we got plenty of work playing the trumpet. When I went into the RAF, if there was any opportunity, I did some trumpet playing. When I was on my signals course, as I say I played. There was a Training Wing dance band. I played second trumpet. A big band it was too. Mostly Glenn Miller stuff. And other places where we moved to if they had a dance band I’d go and sit along, sit down with them, you know. So I did a fair amount. And 1945 I was in the Beccles place after my tour. Of course, the end of the, the end of the war in Europe there was a lot of parties and that little band we had, we were in great demand and my nose started bleeding. When I saw the MO, he said, ‘Well you’d better pack up the trumpet for a while. It’s a good job it did bleed,’ he said, ‘It may have given you a stroke. High blood pressure like that. So leave it. Leave it off for about six months.’ So I was thinking, alright. I’ve got to play something. I know. I’ll learn to play the piano. So I go in to Beccles and find this lady, very well known in show business called Madame Shapiro. And she gave me the piano lessons and she said, ‘What you’ve got to do is to play scales and play scales every day for an hour at least. You’ve just got to do it and the sooner you can play scales without looking at the keys you’re ready to start playing.’ Well, I hadn’t got the patience. In any case If I started doing that in the sergeants mess I’d probably have something thrown at me. So, I never really did get, did master the piano. But it went off and I was back playing. In 1963 it was, in the police force, the Essex Police Band was formed and Edna said, ‘Well I know you like playing. You go along and play if you want to but you might regret it.’ Very prophetic. I’ll tell you about it in a minute. So I went along and played in the Essex Police Band and I was their principal cornet for a while till somebody along, came along a bit better than me. Then I was the deputy principal cornet. There we are there. That’s it. You can see me sitting. That one. That’s the Essex Police Band 1972. And I had some quite happy times. And what she meant by, ‘You might regret it,’ I was in charge of a small section in North Chelmsford called Melbourne Park and myself and five constables. And the chief constable came along to see me one day, Sir John Nightingale. ‘Sergeant Rossiter, why haven’t you passed your promotion exam?’ I said, ‘I suppose I haven’t studied hard enough.’ He said, ‘Well bloody well get on with it. I need inspectors.’ Well that was most unusual. I’m not kidding you. You don’t get chief constables telling that to sergeants every day. He was inviting me to be, he said ‘I want you to be an inspector but pass your exam.’ I never did. Too much playing you see. That’s what Edna meant. She said afterwards, ‘Well, perhaps you might have been a bit worrying. You’re happy being a sergeant, aren’t you?’ I said, ‘Yeah. It don’t worry me.’
AS: Fantastic. When, when you were back and it’s after D-day by this time you were posted to, to the heavies to crew up all over again. What was that process like? Much the same or —
HR: Much the same. Well it was slightly different. This was at Silverstone. A big old bomber OTU there. We went there in early April and, well actually what happened was in between OTU [pause] no, the AFU at Millom and the OTU we had, we had ten days leave so I got married. In March 1944 we got married. And there was another humorous situation because the vicar, we knew him quite well, I said I’ve only, ‘I’ve only got a few days,’ you know. So he said, ‘Oh that’s alright. I can get you a special licence. Don’t worry about the banns. You haven’t got time for the banns.’ So he got me a special licence. And we were married in this church, ‘And I now pronounce you man and wife’ and he said it, so funny, he said, ‘Oh go on Harry. Kiss her’ [laughs] as if needed prompting. Yeah. And so, there you are. And I, Edna said, ‘Well ask them for an extension of leave then. They can only say no. They can’t shoot you.’ So I did. And of course it came back, ‘No. Come back.’ So, when I started OTU which was at Silverstone, it was a big crowd, about two hundred of us sitting in this room. And the instructor said, ‘One of your number recently took himself a wife. He liked it so much he wanted an extension.’ Ha ha. And my friend said, ‘I bet that was you.’ It was [laughs] Anyway, he left and said, ‘Get yourselves crewed up.’ Well we were wandering about. Now who did I meet first? I can’t remember really. Yeah. Who was it who I met first? No. It wasn’t Bill. I think it was Jenks actually. Yes. I went up. I saw this tall chap with pilot’s wings and he stood here, I said, ‘You looking for a wireless operator?’ ‘Yeah. You’ll do,’ he said. ‘That’s alright. Yeah.’ And then we were joined, who was on next? [pause] One of the gunners. Which one was that? The French Canadian. Reg Bijon. He was the next one. And then, I don’t know how we got on to Bill. Bill Ranson, the navigator. I suppose he was looking sorry for himself. I don’t know. And the flight engineer. We did all our Bomber Command training on Wellington’s which strictly speaking didn’t need a flight engineer. But nevertheless he was part of the crew. And then when we learned to fly four-engined stuff, Stirlings it was called a Conversion Unit. A Heavy Conversion Unit. Then we acquired an extra gunner which was Bill Gorbon. A farmer from Northwich in Cheshire.
AS: Wonderful. Now, you, you’d come off twin-engined coastal. Virtually early, early war so you were doing wireless and DF. Did you have to learn a lot more to cope with the equipment in the heavies or was it much the same equipment?
HR: It wasn’t, it wasn’t a question of it. Just that the, there were, that’s why we had to go to this. Because of the Bomber Command way of doing things. It wasn’t very complicated and already got the basics thoroughly ground in after the service with Coastal Command. As they, as they say, take it on board. It’s quite easy really. Radio silence was strict but there was one. This trip I did with the other crew was different. It was a wind finding aircraft. It’s all in those notes. As you know when you drop a bomb it’s liable to be knocked off course by the wind. So they had to feed, to steer, you steered to allow for it. And that was called wind finding. So what they did, this particular crew every half an hour the navigator and the bomb aimer between them estimated the speed, the speed and direction and I was handed a slip of paper and told to send it back to base. In the Morse code, you know. It was all Morse code. I did it every half an hour. And when Bomber Command, because we weren’t the only aircraft doing it and they worked out what, decided what was a good mean average wind speed and direction and half an hour before zero hour on the raid it would be transmitted to the whole force to be used.
AS: So everybody set the same wind vector on to the bomb sights.
HR: Yeah. Yeah. And it did help but as you know in 1944 things were starting to get better because we had the Gee. The Gee. The Gee box as it was called. A very good thing. Oh that was another funny story. At Beccles this 280 Squadron, occasionally one of us would be sent up with one of the crews to see how they got on and we had a load of ATC boys. About four of them anyway. And the Warwick was quite roomy. A table about this big with, and, so one of them said, ‘Can you show us how you work out.’ So I said, ‘Yes. You —’ I had a copy of the receiver in the thingy, ‘See those bits,’ you know they were lined up, you know. And took the readings off them and put them on to the chart. And we were over the North Sea at the time but according to my calculations we were just off the coast of Cornwall. I thought my face was red. I was using the wrong chart, that’s why [laughs] So we got the right chart and managed to save my face.
AS: Because there, there was more than one Gee chain wasn’t there?
HR: Yeah.
AS: Yeah. Could we talk a little, a little bit about preparations for, for a mission briefing and what not?
HR: Yes. Well —
AS: What was your, you know, day for a raid or a night for a raid? What would be a typical?
HR: Suppose it was a night raid. The, over the tannoy would come, ‘There will be a lecture for navigators at 12 o’clock,’ at so and so. And that was the beginning. That meant that we were going on ops that night and that’s how they announced it. So all the navigators got together and of course they were given all the details and usually joined by the pilots. They found it a good idea to do so. They were allowed to do so if they wanted. Most of them did. And then posted up in the sergeant’s mess and the officer’s mess would be the battle order. A big A4 sheet of paper detailing all the crews that were on it. And that’s when you knew. And then you went on to the main briefing which would be about two hours before or about an hour before take-off time due. Then first of all you’d would get the intelligence officer saying what the raid was all about. Then you get the Met. And then you get the squadron commander. Then you go into details and they used to talk about all, about all up weight, the amount of petrol you were carrying and all that sort of stuff. Don’t quite know what good that was but there you are. And then as I say the squadron commander would go into the details and what to avoid. What’s this and what’s that and don’t forget your banking. We didn’t have, didn’t have a mid-under gunner at first. We used to do banking searches like that to make sure nobody was hiding underneath. And there was, oh yes that was another funny thing which is in there. Before we got the mid-under gunner Paddy the bomb aimer said, ‘I’m going to drop a flare.’ You know, the bombs go. ‘Would you mind walking down and see if it goes?’ Well, we were at oxygen height so I clipped an oxygen bottle to my parachute harness and down I went. Down the fuselage and just as I got to the chute I saw it go down. Zunk. And then suddenly I was thrown off balance. We were being attacked. And I’m in pitch darkness I hadn’t a clue. There’s an intercom socket but I couldn’t find it. So about five seconds there was a bit of panic because I didn’t know what was going on. Whether we were going down in a dive or whatever. But I couldn’t stand up and the reasons why it was the bottle had become detached from my parachute harness and I was treading on it. And that was why I couldn’t stand up. I did. Plugged in and it was okay. I said it went, you know and that was all he wanted to know. But yeah, it’s one of the, one of the only times really when I really was what you might call blind panic because you don’t know what’s going on.
AS: So that was a fighter attack.
HR: Yeah.
AS: At this stage of the war what, were the fighters your chief concerns or the flak or collision or or what?
HR: Fighters really. Yeah. No doubt about it. But they had, they had choice, you know. They were spoiled for choice. And the infamous raid in March on Nuremberg. You may have, if you ever, if anybody talks about the Nuremberg raid they talk about the one in March which was a complete and utter fiasco. We lost a hundred bombers that night. A hundred. Ninety six were shot down, mainly by night fighters and another ten were written off when they got home and crashed. A hundred and six I think is the official figure. One of them is mentioned in there as being number ninety six or something. Shot down.
AS: Picking up on that, and not so much the raid but the loss of aeroplanes, what, how big a factor was, was the weather? Did you ever go out and the weather changed and you end up with this —
HR: Yes.
AS: Big mess over England.
HR: The very last one. December is when Glen Miller was killed. And I’ll tell you what happened. Well it’s been generally accepted what happened. December the 15th we were sent out to bomb a place called [Siegen?] and there was a lot of, the weather was putrid and all civilian flying was cancelled, you know. There was no question of it. Because what happened of course as we climbed up to fifteen to sixteen feet icing took over and one Lancaster, when one Lancaster crashed because of it they called us all back. Well we never landed with a full bomb load. We used to jettison our bombs in The Wash but others jettisoned them in the Channel. What the popular theory is now is that Glen Miller’s plane was brought down either by a direct hit from a bomb but more likely from a blast from a bomb. Because there was a rear gunner reported seeing a light aircraft plunge into the water. It must have been Glen Miller’s plane because there was no other plane out.
AS: Yeah.
HR: That’s the only time. There was another occasion I believe. In that box file is my flying logbook.
AS: Shall we pause and get that?
[recording paused]
AS: Okay. Harry, so we’re, we’re back again with the tape running. We’ve just been talking about an example where the smooth bomber stream perhaps didn’t quite happen on the [ Siegen ] raid. Could you tell me what happened then?
HR: Yes. There was very very thick cloud. A lot of Cumulonim about which was a rather dangerous cloud. So we were dodging that but when we finally broke cloud about fifteen thousand feet the bomber force — the Lancasters and Halifaxes were all over the sky. So whoever was leading the raid decided to do a big loop. A circuit I suppose you’d call it. And as he did it so we all formed up and so we headed for the target in some sort of order.
AS: So this was a force of hundreds of bomber aeroplanes.
HR: About two hundred and forty.
AS: Doing a merry go around in the sky.
HR: That’s right. Yeah.
AS: And not, not troubled by flak?
HR: No. We weren’t actually [pause] of course I couldn’t tell you where we were but we were certainly over the continent somewhere. Because of the thick clouds as I say when we finally, obviously trying to avoid collision in the cloud but when it finally did break through as I say we were scattered far and wide. And I was standing up looking out the astrodome. I saw it all happen.
AS: And this, this actually was your second consecutive trip to [Siegen ] and the first one.
HR: We didn’t.
AS: In your logbook says —
HR: Didn’t get there. Recalled.
AS: Duty not carried out. What was that about? Was that the weather?
HR: The weather, yes. Icing. Icing.
AS: Okay.
HR: After icing had brought down one Lancaster they called the rest of us back. And that was the day when Glen Miller was killed. And it’s a popular belief now that he was killed by jettisoned bombs in the Channel because he couldn’t land with a full bomb load. And our squadron jettisoned in the Wash so we weren’t responsible. But some squadrons jettisoned in the Channel. And we think Glen Miller was brought down by some of the bombs.
AS: Okay. Did you have, as a squadron and as a, as a group particular forming up procedures to join the stream and places to go?
HR: No. We were just told to fly in a sensible, sensible gaggle formation and just be careful to avoid collisions.
AS: And this was on daylights presumably.
HR: On daylight raids. Yes.
AS: Was it any different at night?
HR: Well you couldn’t see. Although, as I say visibility wasn’t as bad as you might think at night time but you couldn’t sort of, you couldn’t see everywhere and in any case another Lancaster, perhaps it was a half a mile away or so it would just be lost in the darkness. But we did see others sometimes and we always used to try and keep clear. But I don’t, I don’t remember any cases of collisions at night, strangely enough when you might have thought it would have happened.
AS: How about coming home? Did you, well your navigator would do it but did you come home on Gee to particular points?
HR: Well, we did, you had this course of course to come home on and we had Gee to help navigation. What we had to be careful of when joining the circuit to land was intruders. At Witchford they used to have, and all the airfields had a red, red light flashing out their code so you could know where you were. And if they were switched off that was to warn you that German fighters were about. Of course, you were coming in to land totally relaxed and they would nip in and shoot. In this book there’s a record of intruders at Witchford where, where I think three Lancs were lost one night through intruders.
AS: Wow. Can you remember the procedure then? What if the light goes out? What happened then? Do you scatter or go to a beacon or — ?
HR: No. You just continue flying but you’re very much on the alert. Until they just gave up and went off. It was all clear and the light would come on again and we’d land.
AS: When you landed and a big sigh of relief, switched everything off there’s the debriefing. Could you tell me some details of how debriefings used to go?
HR: Well, as soon as we touched down that was a moment for relaxing and a great sigh of relief. Whoopie we’re home again. Thank the good lord. Yeah. That was, that was the feeling and a noticeable lack of tension. Because when you were taking off you’re flying into the unknown. You don’t know what’s going to happen. Whether you would be coming back or not. But when you had come back and decided all was safe then we used to get out and say, ‘Jenks, well done,’ you know. And he’d say, ‘Well, never mind. I couldn’t have done it without you lot.’ It was a great relief. And then we used to go to be picked up by the crew bus and given cups of coffee with, laced with rum which used to, strangely enough helped us to sleep. And everybody got asked whether they had anything to say, you know. And we’d say, ‘I saw ——' And one would say, ‘Yeah. I saw a chop,’ he’d say. ‘Whereabout were you?’ ‘We were just passing over the middle of the target and saw a chop out to starboard.’ There was a little bit of, I don’t know what you’d call it but it’s put about that the Germans put up what they called Scarecrows. Things that explode to make you think it’s one of your bombers being, being hit by night fighters or flak. Well, the Germans denied any knowledge of that. They said, ‘No, we didn’t.’ So it did seem as a little bit of thing to try and keep the morale up. It wasn’t, well they weren’t, that was the Germans trying to scare us. The Germans said no that wasn’t the case.
AS: So potentially at least the Scarecrow story was put out by your own.
HR: Yeah.
AS: High Command.
HR: Yeah.
AS: Yeah. And you’re talking about, about tension and the release of tension. When, one of the things that what one certainly reads about that for trips, long trips sometimes Benzedrine or wakey- wakey pills were available. Did you as a crew or an individual have any experience of, of this?
HR: Well, you were, you were given the choice. You were given the Benzedrine tablets. I usually took one. We weren’t sillily taking them. Just the one. There was one raid when we were coming back and I found myself, see I sat in a seat with the bench in front of me with the Morse key on my right and the set in front of me and I was down under the, my head was banging underneath the table and I was sound asleep and I came, obviously because what happened when they wore off you didn’t exactly go faint but you’d used up all your energy as it were.
AS: Okay. What — so they were freely available. Were they, well they weren’t on the table like sweets but did the medical officer hand them out or —?
HR: You know I can’t remember.
AS: I’m not surprised.
HR: Let me think. When we were, when we were being briefed we were given flight rations. Glucose sweets, chewing gum. I don’t remember ever getting chocolate. I know we used to get these boiled sweets and chewing gum. Chewing gum was very useful because as you got higher so your eardrums tend to stick and if you’re chewing gum they didn’t. That was the reason for these you know, it’s [pause] And I just can’t remember about the wakey-wakey pills as we used to call them.
AS: It was certainly available to you and I mean looking –
HR: Oh yes.
AS: At your logbook here. Stettin is a nine hour flight.
HR: That’s when, as I say we took off at dusk and landed in the dawn. Out all night.
AS: So would you take them, as you say on take-off but regularly or just when the longer flights or a mix really.
HR: I have to admit I can’t remember.
AS: It’s not, it’s not surprising.
HR: You know.
AS: Yeah.
HR: I remember taking the odd one but I certainly never took them in the daytime. I know that. Never took them in the daytime. Only for night time.
AS: Okay.
HR: Because obviously in nature you sleep at night so you’re in opposition to your body’s usual clock so you had to take something to compensate to keep you awake. That’s what it, really the reason for them.
AS: There’s a lot of, a lot of notes on flak in your, in your logbook.
HR: Yeah.
AS: An ever present danger.
HR: Oh yes. The German ack-ack was extremely accurate. It was very good. That’s why we dropped these metalised strips which completely confused their radar screens. But if you were out by yourself you were dead. Absolutely a sitting duck as far as they were concerned.
AS: What was your crew or your skipper’s attitude to weaving to try and avoid the flak? Did he do it? Or did his navigator persuade him not to?
HR: No. As I say we didn’t seem to have that problem because of the Window. I can never, can never remember — I mean as I say that the last occasion I mentioned in daylight when it did. It certainly changed height. Got back in the Window stream as it were. But apart from that I don’t think so. We were more, we used to weave of course if they were, if we were being chased by a fighter which apparently obviously worked because as I say I wouldn’t be sitting here otherwise. I’ll tell you a little thing that I only thought about it in recent years. At being briefed, it might be about twenty odd crews sitting in the big room all around a big table. You know. Seven, seven husky young men and a few hours later their remains are being shovelled into one coffin.
AS: Did you — ?
HR: Didn’t know about it at the time of course. It’s only, it’s only come out recently. It’s all, it’s in here. It’s all in there.
AS: Yeah. Its perhaps a very insensitive question but did you, when you were looking around the room of twenty crews did you ever get the feeling well he’s not going to come back.
HR: Yes. It did. We wondered. You know, the chap sitting there. He might be brash and bragging about his feminine conquests or something like that, you know. Yeah. I wondered, I wondered if he’d be doing the same tomorrow night. You know. Or tomorrow morning. Did occasionally. Not, not very often. You’re too preoccupied with your own thoughts, I think. Am I going to make it somehow?
AS: Yeah. On, on those own thoughts. Although you were very close obviously as a crew did you keep them very much to yourself? Did you ever discuss in the crew these issues of survival or not?
HR: No. It was never, it was never discussed amongst ourselves. No. I suppose, well I can’t explain it really. When you’re on the ground and after raids or before it you would, you would talk about other things. Sometimes I’d talk about music because there was this Welsh flight engineer. He had a good voice. He used to like singing. And talk about Welsh music sometimes. Things like that you know. Anything but, shall we say. Yeah. I often chatted. And sometimes when you were up, when you were flying the skipper would say, ‘Cease idle chatter.’ Yeah. It didn’t happen very often though in the air.
AS: So, so is it fair to say that, as young men you, you had to fight this personal battle, internal battle as well as being on top of your training and doing your job?
HR: I can’t say I’m aware of that. I used to think of, obviously at the time when I was on ops I was married and Edna was expecting actually. You know. I’d think about her and what she would say if she got the telegram. If I didn’t come back, you know. But not a great deal. My memory doesn’t serve me all that well. I don’t remember ever being in very, in much intensive conversation. We used to go to the squadron pub called the Lion of Lamb which is now just called the village, The Village Inn it’s called in Witchford it’s called. You went in there and all sorts of silly things, silly games you know. Singing around the piano perhaps.
AS: Yeah. Your, your ops were, were quite close together. There’s not a lot of stand down time was there? At this, at this period of the war.
HR: Yeah. There was some of course. But as you can see in red and green. Any in blue would be non-operational. Sometimes we were called upon to, if an aircraft went in for a major inspection. It needed an air test and the very last trip we did together was an air test. That was in January ’45. I think you’ll see it there. Air test.
AS: Yeah. Yes. Transit Thornaby. Yeah.
HR: And the only one I ever saw again was David. The pilot. David Jenkins. I never saw any of the others again. I spoke to them. Bill Gorbon, the rear gunner, he emigrated to Canada. He died in Toronto, I think. He was living near Niagara Falls. And Bill, Bill Phillips, the flight engineer, he’s dead. As a matter of fact, it’s through him, writing to him, I’ve still got the letter somewhere that he got out, he sent a letter. It just came out of the blue really, “You may remember me. I was your flight engineer.” Et cetera et cetera. And that’s how I got in touch with the others. And he started it really. As I say two or three of them. I mean, I was told that he was dead, and that he was dead. I don’t know about, that’s Les [Algon?] the mid-under gunner. He comes from Edmonton, and Bill Ranson was from Doncaster but I never knew anything about them at all.
AS: It seems a fairly common part of of service, or at least Bomber Command life that crews were almost deliberately dispersed I think.
HR: Well, I don’t know about that. I’ve got, I’ve only got these records because they’re my friends and this is a boyhood friend of mine in Laindon. We were in the Scouts together and he was a navigator on 83 Squadron. And he had three lucky escapes. The first time — that was a raid on Stettin and the aircraft was damaged. Was fatally damaged and they ditched in the sea. And they all got in their dinghy and floating along. Suddenly one of them fell out. He stood up. And they were off the coast of Sweden and [laughs] they thought the rough seas, rough seas were coming their way. It was the breakers on the beach. So they were very lucky. And the second time they were coming, they went out on operation but they’d developed, two of the engines packed up so they had to bale out. And, but then he did a second tour and in November 1943 they were shot down over Berlin and he was killed in action. And this other one with, he was the one who gave me the dig in the ribs and said, ‘I bet that was you, his name was Peter Barnes. He was on Beauforts. We were on Beauforts together. And they were killed on their first op in a brand new Lancaster. The first, the first the first operation for the Lancaster and the first operation for them and they were shot down at Russelsheim. That’s why I keep those.
AS: Yeah, I can, I can understand that. Did you mainly have you’re your own aeroplane?
HR: Mainly yes. It survived the war. It’s HK5 78. That’s the serial number, you know. Because some of the aircraft went from squadron to squadron so they had different squadron letters. We were, as you might be able to see on there KOC. C for Charlie.
AS: Charlie. Yeah.
HR: KO was the squadron letters. Because there were three flights. Each flight, eight to ten aircraft so of course you run out of letters in the alphabet. So the Flight C had a different course, different letters. KO was A and B Flights and C Flight was A4. And in November ’44 195 squadron was reformed using C Flight. And they went off to a place called Wratting Common and then we acquired another C Flight with the letters IL. And that’s how it worked. And some squadrons did different. They would say C flight would have the letter, they would put the letter F2 or something like that. Another way of doing that. But that was number 3 Group. That was the way we did it in 3 Group. One squadron that was part of our base, 514, they put up twenty two aircraft. That was the Nuremberg raid. Only four came back. They lost eighteen aircraft. That’s how it was. Yeah.
AS: Did you ever have anything to do with the emergency landing grounds? Woodbridge or Manston or Carnaby?
HR: We knew all about them but no. No. We, as I say we only got, we only got damaged once and that was just the one engine. We knew all about them of course.
AS: Yeah. A different theme entirely if I may. When you weren’t on ops was there much training? Dinghy drills?
HR: No. The only thing that used to happen if you weren’t on ops each each aircrew trade had its own leader. So, all the wireless operators, all the air gunners, all the navigators if they weren’t on ops they had to meet up and the leader of their trade, I mean ours was called the signals leader would give you any latest information. Points to watch, you know and anything that was new and you had to go. I remember this one chap, the signals leader was a Flight Lieutenant Hartley. A very nice chap. A gentleman. But one [laughs] he had to tell him off about his language and the strange thing was about that man I had some email from a relative, “I understand you knew… his name was Marston, Sergeant.” ‘Yes, I remember Sergeant Marston because he was told about his language.’ He wasn’t the only one of course who swore but Mr Hartley didn’t like a lot of it in open. And as I say it was during one of these sessions that he said to me, ‘I’m putting you up for commission.’
AS: Going again in another direction. When you were in Bomber Command, out in the pubs or wherever or on reading the press and listening to the newsreels what sort of sense did you have of how the population thought about Bomber Command at the time?
HR: There wasn’t much to tell about that. If we, if somebody had said to them, oh think of all those civilians that were killed, you know. Hamburg was the worst. Forty two thousand people were killed in air raids in Hamburg. They talk about Dresden. Twenty seven thousand. I mean that’s bad enough. Two wrongs don’t make a right and all war is evil. Whatever people say. If anybody talks to me I say civilians were killed. Yes. But then all war is evil. But what people used to think at the time was ---— bloody good luck. They started it, you know. We remember Coventry and Rotterdam. Of course, as you know Exeter took quite a pasting. Now, I’ve got a book. Oh, it’s upstairs, called, “The Baedeker Raids.” And it’s a lot of, and there’s one [pause] now where was I at? Let me think. Is it in here? No, I don’t think so. No. Anyway, there was in the, in this book it mentions Exeter and it said Number 17 Regent’s Park took a direct hit and it wasn’t this house. It was over there. The numbers were different.
AS: Yeah.
HR: But then all the tiles were blown off. That’s why there’s a lot, there’s a lot of moss on them. Because instead of the earth with the material I’m thinking of? They’re concrete tiles and they, ‘cause the moss, a lot of moss. And somebody suggested I ought to have the roof cleaned. A number of builders came along and one of them, common sense, said, ‘Does your roof leak?’ I said, ‘No.’ He said, ‘Well leave it alone. There’s extra protection.’ I’ve never thought of that. But that’s why.
AS: Yeah.
HR: Anyway, there we are.
AS: So very much the public was, was supportive.
HR: Oh yes.
AS: Behind you during that.
HR: Absolutely. Yeah.
AS: When it was over and you went back to civilian life do you think that support changed over time as new ideas came in?
HR: Not in the current population because they were, it’s very well for the people to talk about in the piping days of peace. They’ve got to, people have no idea how people were during the war. They can only guess unless they, they’ve still got parents old enough to tell them. It’s so totally different. You can’t really reconcile the two points of view really because people thought differently. I mean some people saw their relatives blown to pieces by bombs. We know that we killed more of them then they did of us and two wrongs don’t make a right and war is evil. But there it is. That’s the war. I did, I did send a letter up once to The Express and Echo. I think it’s in one. I don’t know if it’s in there or not. I’m not sure. Talking about this and I said. Oh yeah. Talking about the Memorial. That’s right. It’s a waste. I said, ‘Never mind about your thoughts about civilians. That Memorial is to the fifty five thousand five hundred men who were killed in action. Not killed or wounded. Killed in action.’ No other, no trace of them, you know. Their graves are there to be seen. And that’s a lot of people and if you’d have told them, I mean as I say this chap when we were sitting at OTU and talking about it I thought, ‘You don’t know it mate but you’ve only got about four months to live,’ you know. You didn’t think of that. Didn’t think of it of course. We thought we’d all survive. I had some good friends. One of that crew that collided, the wireless operator, he was a Canadian named Joe Dunsford, Flying Officer Joe Dunsford. He always had a book under his arm. Never went without it, ‘Hiya Harry. Read any good books lately?’ And suddenly he wasn’t there. You know.
AS: Yeah. Did you go to the opening of the Bomber Command Memorial in Green Park?
HR: Yes.
AS: Yeah.
HR: I was in the salute area. Gina was with me. I’ve got, I’ve got photos of all that. This lot is Sunday. Last Sunday at St Paul’s Cathedral.
AS: Wow.
HR: You show me what they are and I’ll tell you what they were. Oh, that’s Mitch coming out of St Paul’s toilet. They’re four members of the Yatesbury Association, three members of the Yatesbury Association who I met there.
AS: So you all trained or did part of your training at Yatesbury Wireless School.
HR: I did my training.
AS: Yeah.
HR: They didn’t. The other three are they were all post war. That’s inside, that’s inside the City of London Guildhall where they had a reception after.
AS: And that is a large chunk of your family.
HR: That’s it, yes. That’s Lorraine who you’ve just seen. Gina. Gina, my granddaughter. My son in law and my grandson. You know, the one who’s up there. The Batchelor of Science.
AS: Why is it that aircrew always attract stunning blondes?
HR: Do you know who that is?
AS: I don’t.
HR: Have a look. It’s somebody quite famous actually.
[pause]
AS: It’s Carol Vorderman?
HR: That’s right.
AS: It is.
HR: It is.
AS: She’s had her hair blonded.
HR: That’s right. Yeah.
AS: She lives less than two miles from me.
HR: Does she?
AS: I didn’t recognise her.
HR: And there’s that one. I was wearing, I’ve got a little pin badge shaped like a Lancaster. It's in my lapel. And she explained to this city alderman, she said, ‘See. That’s the four Merlin engines on the Lancaster,’ she was saying to him.
AS: The same.
HR: The same. That’s a copy of the same one.
AS: Yeah. Fabulous. I’ll just pause that.
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 Harry Rossiter
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Adam Sutch
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-09-13
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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.
Format
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01:19:05 audio recording
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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ARossiterHC150913
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Air Force. Coastal Command
Description
An account of the resource
Harry Rossiter grew up in East London but his family moved to Essex which gave Harry a “ringside view” of the Battle of Britain. He volunteered as a bicycle messenger and tried to join the Royal Navy as a telegraphist. He was encouraged to join the RAF to train as a wireless operator. He was originally posted as support for 217 Squadron in Ceylon but he was later returned to England and posted to 115 Squadron at RAF Witchford. His crew survived a number of night fighter attacks while on operations. He recalls the losses on Bomber Command and his demobilisation in 1946. Harry had always had a love of music and played the trumpet and cornet in dance bands throughout the war and into civilian life.
Contributor
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Julie Williams
Carolyn Emery
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
France
Germany
Great Britain
India
Pakistan
Sri Lanka
England--London
England--Cambridgeshire
Atlantic Ocean
Atlantic Ocean--Rockall Bank
Poland--Szczecin
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
115 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
Air Gunnery School
air sea rescue
aircrew
bombing
bombing of Nuremberg (30 / 31 March 1944)
Defiant
Dominie
entertainment
fear
Gee
Lancaster
memorial
Morse-keyed wireless telegraphy
Operation Manna (29 Apr – 8 May 1945)
perception of bombing war
Proctor
RAF Barrow in Furness
RAF Madley
RAF Millom
RAF Witchford
RAF Yatesbury
training
Window
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/934/36536/MLovattP1821369-190903-75.2.pdf
51c3fbced3b1e3bd9c7237f2cb79c94a
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Lovatt, Peter
Dr Peter Lovatt
P Lovatt
Description
An account of the resource
117 items. An oral history interview with Peter Lovatt (b.1924, 1821369 Royal Air Force), his log book, documents, and photographs. The collection also contains two photograph albums. He flew 42 operations as an air gunner on 223 Squadron flying B-24s. <br /><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/1338">Album One</a><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2135">Album Two</a><br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Nina and Peter Lovatt and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-09-27
2019-09-03
Rights
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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.
Identifier
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Lovatt, P
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
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A Reminiscence of the Flying Characteristics of Many Old Type Aircraft
Description
An account of the resource
A detailed analysis of very early aircraft and their flying characteristics.
Creator
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Air Marshall Sir Ralph Sorley
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Felixstowe
England--Eastbourne (East Sussex)
England--Calshot
England--Bembridge
Atlantic Ocean--Spithead Channel
England--Cowes
England--Stroud
Scotland--Montrose
England--Sunbury
England--London
Monaco
Egypt--Cairo
Iraq--Baghdad
England--Felixstowe
England--Aldeburgh
Iraq
Middle East--Kurdistan
Middle East--Palestine
Jordan
Iran
Middle East--Euphrates River
Syria
Yemen (Republic)--Aden
Singapore
Australia
Borneo
China--Hong Kong
England--Kent
United States
New York (State)--New York
France--Paris
Nigeria
South Africa--Cape Town
Yugoslavia
Norway
Portugal
Spain
Denmark
Japan
Belgium
Argentina
Austria
Brazil
Canada
Chile
Greece
China
Lithuania
Estonia
England--Weybridge
Scotland--Island of Arran
England--Kingston upon Thames
France--Dunkerque
England--Hatfield (Hertfordshire)
Newfoundland and Labrador
New Brunswick
Maine
Maine--Presque Isle
Washington (D.C.)
Massachusetts--Boston
Pennsylvania--Philadelphia
Maryland--Baltimore
Washington (D.C.)--Anacostia
Tennessee--Nashville
Arkansas--Little Rock
Texas--Dallas
Texas--Fort Worth
Texas--Midland
Arizona--Tucson
California--Burbank (Los Angeles County)
California--Palm Springs
California--Los Angeles
California--Beverly Hills
California--San Diego
Arizona--Winslow
New Mexico--Albuquerque
Kansas--Wichita
Missouri--Saint Louis
Ohio--Dayton
New York (State)--Buffalo
Ontario--Toronto
Québec--Montréal
Newfoundland and Labrador--Gander
Netherlands--Eindhoven
Germany--Rheine
Germany--Osnabrück
India
Switzerland--Zurich
Lebanon--Beirut
Pakistan--Karachi
India--Kolkata
Singapore
Indonesia--Jakarta
Australia
Northern Territory--Darwin
New South Wales--Sydney
South Australia--Woomera
South Australia--Adelaide
Victoria--Melbourne
Sri Lanka--Colombo
Spain--Madrid
South Africa--Johannesburg
Kenya--Nairobi
Sudan--Khartoum
Greece--Athens
Italy--Rome
Zambia--Lusaka
Zambia--Ndola
Zambia--Mbala
Heathrow Airport (London, England)
Turkey--Istanbul
France--Nice
Utah--Salt Lake City
Italy--Genoa
Atlantic Ocean--Firth of Clyde
Italy
France
Arizona
Arkansas
California
Kansas
Maryland
Massachusetts
Missouri
New Mexico
New York (State)
Ohio
Tennessee
Texas
Utah
New South Wales
South Australia
Victoria
Northern Territory
Egypt
Sudan
North Africa
Ontario
Québec
Germany
Indonesia
Iraq
Kenya
Lebanon
Netherlands
South Africa
Switzerland
Pakistan
Sri Lanka
Turkey
Yemen (Republic)
Czech Republic
Slovakia
England--Gloucestershire
England--Hampshire
England--Herefordshire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Suffolk
England--Surrey
England--Sussex
England--Great Yarmouth
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Navy
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Format
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82 typewritten sheets
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1971-08-16
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
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MLovattP1821369-190903-75
Conforms To
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Pending text-based transcription
aircrew
Anson
B-17
B-24
Battle
Blenheim
C-47
Chadwick, Roy (1893-1947)
Defiant
Dominie
Fw 190
ground crew
Halifax
Harvard
Hudson
Hurricane
Lancaster
Lincoln
Lysander
Magister
Manchester
Me 109
Mosquito
Oxford
Photographic Reconnaissance Unit
pilot
Proctor
RAF Boscombe Down
RAF Eastchurch
RAF Hendon
RAF Henlow
RAF Martlesham Heath
RAF North Killingholme
RAF Pembrey
RAF Prestwick
RAF West Freugh
Spitfire
Stirling
Swordfish
Tiger Moth
training
Wallis, Barnes Neville (1887-1979)
York
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/719/10114/ABorthwickS180306.2.mp3
2ff5ec8d7ba556eaacdc93f61495839b
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
Borthwick, Sidney
S Borthwick
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with Sidney Borthwick (b. 1925). He flew operations as an air gunner with 101 Squadon.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-03-06
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
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Borthwick, S
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
AS: Ok. So, there we are. So, this is Andrew Sadler interviewing Sidney Borthwick at his home in Staines on Tuesday the 5th of March 2018. Sidney, can you, you were telling me about how you signed up in to the Air Force. Can you tell me about that?
[pause]
SB: It’s a bit indistinct now but there were recruitment areas in every town weren’t they? Staines. No. Where was it?
Other: West Hartlepool?
SB: But I’ve always had something wrong with my left arm. A tumour on the bone shaft of my left arm or something. The kind of thing that when you were in the playground at school. They’d just maybe let you out of lessons and you were all mad and you were chasing each other and they used to grab me and it was right where this tumour was on my, on my left arm. And it was like something on the bone that when they did things like that it wobbled about. I’ve still got it [laughs] It’ll only be, it’s long forgotten now you know but I was in the playground. I had to be very careful in the rough and tumble of [pause] what was that famous thing we used to play? Tig or something like that.
Other: Tag.
SB: Tag, and —
Other: And did this affect you for going in to the —
SB: Well, they used to grab my left, my arm you see and under there somewhere there was like a nodule or something. A tumour on the bone shaft of my left arm.
Other: But did that affect you joining the Air Force?
SB: Well, yeah. Oh, yeah. You had to keep your mouth closed about that, you know. So I think I probably went somewhere in this area to volunteer and they thought [pause] So I thought, well I’ll go to another place. There was another place. I forget the name of it now. I’ll go up there. I went in. Wanted to volunteer, you know. Here I am. ‘Yeah. Yeah. Fine. You’re in.’ [laughs] So a lesson in life that sometimes you’ve got to [unclear] [laughs] Yeah. So, yeah.
AS: And how old were you then? Was this before the war or after it had started?
SB: Doesn’t say anything in here, does it?
Other: You’ve always said that you lied about you age.
SB: I haven’t seen this in ages.
Other: You always said, dad that you lied about your age. If you had to be eighteen you were only seventeen but you put your age forward to the point that I always remember mum always said she never really knew what you were at a birthday because you kept it up.
[pause]
SB: Sergeant Brooking. I wonder how he is nowadays.
[pause]
AS: Can you tell me anything about the training that you did? How did you come to become a gunner?
SB: How come?
AS: How did you come to become a gunner?
SB: Well —
[door chimes interrupt recording]
SB: If you volunteered. A lot of people said, you know. ‘I want to be up there.’ You see. But I wasn’t like that. I knew I had limitations so I thought well there’s plenty of appendages on there, you know. You can be a bomb aimer, a mid-upper gunner and all the rest of it. So I didn’t cast my line and I always lived with the thought that one day they were going to walk up to me and say, ‘Are you Sid Borthwick?’ And I’d say, ‘Yes.’ And he’d say, ‘Yeah. Well, we know all about you. Bugger off.’[laughs] So, yeah I think I went [pause] [unclear] place. What’s it called? I forget now.
[pause]
SB: So, I learned pretty quickly when to keep my mouth shut and things like that. You, you lived in fear when your turn would come. They had a thing that spun around. I forget what it was but it was part, part of your volunteering. You passed these things and I thought I don’t think I’ll ever get through that but yeah. Be like mum. Or be like dad, keep mum. So, the less you say that can [pause] they could put up against you afterwards the better.
AS: Can you tell me about the training you had?
SB: Training?
AS: Yes.
SB: Well, yes. It’s all written down in the book.
[pause]
SB: Units at which served. ACRC. Aircrew Recruitment. St Johns Wood. In brackets I’ve put Lord’s. So, is there a big err St Johns Wood? What is the name of that?
AS: The Cricket Ground. Lord’s Cricket Ground.
SB: 4th of January 1944. And then I went to Bridlington, Bridgnorth. Stormy Down. And then Ludford Magna. Christ almighty. Catterick. Christ, I was up in Blackpool. I remember that. I had a good time up there.
AS: Can you tell me where you were posted?
[pause]
SB: I was at ACRC. At obviously, Air Crew Recruitment, St Johns Wood and I’ve got here Lord’s. 4th of January ’44. So there must have been a place up there where you went. [unclear] Upper Heyford. Scampton. Bottesford. Ludford Magna. Catterick. Kirkham. Blackpool. West Kirby. Demob. Off.
AS: Can you remember how you came to be a gunner?
SB: Capabilities. You know in your own mind. You know what you could take on without [pause] Although I always remember at school I was always in the back row. Of course, it gives you good pretensions that, you know. I don’t know what your school was like. Your headmaster sat down there and in the front row you had all the dummies as we used to call them, you know. People as thick as two planks. They were, you can imagine him standing there thinking how am I going to drum anything in to this lot? And I knew from that, the seating in the classroom how I was doing, you know. If you got yourself in the back row away from, the master used to sit in the front with the big cane didn’t he to see if you were awake. And I knew from that what I was capable of or what I thought I was capable of. So I might have diminished myself in certain respects but it gave me a line that I wanted to be above possibly. And without any, what did you call it educationally? You got secondary education, was it? The first. Secondary.
[pause]
SB: Yeah. I wasn’t going to set the world on fire.
AS: Can you tell me anything about the training you did to become a gunner?
[pause]
SB: It’s not very clear to me actually.
AS: Can you remember where you were? Where you were stationed? You said, you said something. You read from your logbook you were in Scampton. Can you tell us something about that?
[pause]
SB: Yes. This this is the book they give you when you join. You join up. Certificates of qualification etcetera. [pause] And then it goes all the way with you through. Red ink for night flying. Blue ink for daytime. Stormy Down. Yeah. Old Anson. I remember that.
AS: Could you tell us about that?
[pause]
SB: I couldn’t get on quick enough. It was, it was like taking a lad from the streets and I’m talking now a long time ago.
[telephone ringing]
[pause]
AS: Did you go on many missions? Can you tell us about some of those?
[pause]
SB: What? In the real war you mean?
[pause]
SB: Do you remember Concorde?
AS: Yes.
SB: Concorde BOAE. Passenger proving flight. Two hours up the Bay of Biscay. That was Concorde. A brand new aeroplane. [pause] ACRC. That was the old Bridlington. Then to Bridgnorth. Then to Stormy Down. Upper Heyford. Scampton. Bottesford. Ludford Magna. Catterick. Kirkham. Blackpool. Training. I was shoved off to India when they’d finished with me.
AS: Can you tell me about that?
[pause]
AS: What did you do after the war? Did you manage to settle back in to civilian life?
SB: Yeah.
AS: Was it difficult or easy?
SB: I’ve got in here Blackpool. Retraining [pause] as an equipment assistant. So it sounds like my flying days are over. Remustering training because when, when the war ended they wanted, well the lads who had been up where ever fighting the war. Serving. They all wanted to come back to England. Be in Blighty again. So lots of people like me, probably midway let him go on. So, the next thing I know I’m up in Ceylon. I’m posted overseas. Mind you it was wonderful. You’d never see [laughs] Never see them in your lifetime. Sitting here kind of thing. It’s the place to be. You see the ladies picking [pause] oh what the hell do they call them? Actually, you know the things are actually growing up there. You go from the, one day dropping bloody bombs all over the place. A couple of weeks later you’re in a foreign country. Why? Well, those lads had been up there so they’re due to come home and we need to replace them, don’t we? Yes. Off you go then. Next. [unclear] you’re sitting ladies in the, where was it? Ceylon? [pause] And they’re picking, yeah what the hell was it? What is tea like? The plant. A shrub isn’t it? [pause] Mind you, for a single bloke it was a good life.
AS: What were you doing in Ceylon? Why did you go to Ceylon?
SB: Because the government sent me there, I suppose. I didn’t volunteer for it. I just, as I say it was the time of life like that. The next thing I know I’m sitting on a bloody great liner with my feet over the edge. ‘What rank are you?’ ‘Flight sergeant.’ ‘Right. Well, you see all these squaddies sitting on this liner with you? Right. Tell them to get their feet back in. Inboard. They must not sit on the edge with their feet dangling over.’ [laughs] I thought, well I’ll tell you it was the way of it was a weird old thing, yeah. A couple of days later you land somewhere and the ladies are picking tea and things like that.
AS: Can you tell me anything about the Lancaster because you were on Lancasters, weren’t you?
SB: I was on Lancasters. Yes. A rear gunner on a Lancaster.
[pause]
Other: Can I do you another coffee?
AS: No. I’m fine thank you very much.
Other: Yeah? Can I switch this off, dad? It’s quite warm. Can I take your tea?
AS: Can you tell me anything about your squadron reunions that you, can you tell me anything about your squadron reunions?
[pause]
SB: I don’t think there are squadron reunions.
[pause]
AS: Can you remember being at Scampton, because I think you were at Scampton, weren’t you? In Lincolnshire.
SB: What?
AS: Scampton. Were you in Scampton?
[pause]
SB: It’s funny when you look at these things. Things you, because the Dutch refused to cooperate with the Germans. They were starved.
AS: And you went and dropped some food for them, didn’t you?
SB: Yeah.
AS: Can you tell me about that?
SB: Well, as I remember it we just went on to the runway, opened the bomb doors, right and rammed in as much stuff as you could. Not giving a lot of thought to what it is and we just kept doing that and then said to the skipper, ‘Pile on a bit more. Not a lot but a little bit more.’ And these because the bomb doors came down like that kept closing them down. Closing them down. Closing them down. Closing and they kept ramming stuff in to give to these people who were starving because the Germans, the Germans wouldn’t give them any food, would they? Because, because the Dutch refused to cooperate with the Germans they were starved themselves. Yeah.
[pause]
SB: I often wonder because we never kept, I mean if you flew all this time with all these people when you were demobbed that was it. Well, really —
[pause]
AS: Good.
[pause]
AS: You’ve got a good number of videos about the war, I think.
SB: “Imperial War Museum. The Official Collection. Royal Air Force at War.” Mind you, you’ve got to have plenty to, I used to have these. Yeah. There’s the lads bombing up. The front turret of a Lancaster. Crew positions of a Lancaster. [pause] I’m not quite sure if that’s my position there. Rear turret in a Lancaster. Yeah. [pause] “The story of the Lancaster bomber.”
AS: Ok.
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
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Interview with Sidney Borthwick
Creator
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Andrew Sadler
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2018-03-06
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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.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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ABorthwickS180306
Format
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00:40:45 audio recording
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
England--Yorkshire
Sri Lanka
England--London
England--Blackpool
England--Lancashire
England--Cheshire
Netherlands
Description
An account of the resource
Sidney enlisted on 4th January 1944 at the Air Crew Reception Centre, Lord’s cricket ground. He was accepted despite a tumour on his left arm. Sidney was a rear gunner on Lancasters. After trained at Blackpool, he served at RAF Bottesford, RAF Bridgnorth, RAF Bridlington, RAF Catterick, RAF Kirkham, RAF Ludford Magna, RAF Scampton, RAF Stormy Down and RAF West Kirby. He recalls operation Manna. When the war ended, Sidney had an overseas posting to Ceylon.
Temporal Coverage
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1944
1945
1946
1944-01-04
Contributor
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Julie Williams
Sally Coulter
Conforms To
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Pending revision of OH transcription
101 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
Operation Manna (29 Apr – 8 May 1945)
RAF Bottesford
RAF Bridgnorth
RAF Catterick
RAF Kirkham
RAF Ludford Magna
RAF Scampton
RAF Stormy Down
training
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/609/8878/PMcNamaraL1502.2.jpg
1a52a0cc7a6a6bd8198d87fbb16b0d28
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/609/8878/AMcNamara150722.1.mp3
d96debe0280ffed1ce08c4e80939bcf2
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
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McNamara, Len
L McNamara
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
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McNamara, L
Description
An account of the resource
Two items. An oral history interview with Len McNamara (1924 - 2020, 1814123, 185344 Royal Air Force) and a photograph. He flew operations as an air gunner with 10 and 75 Squadrons.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-07-22
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
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AM: Ok,so, this interview is being conducted for the International Bomber Command Centre. The interviewer is Annie Moody, and the interviewee is Len McNamara. And the interview is taking place at Len McNamara's home, in Southport, on the twenty second of July two thousand and fifteen. So Len, if you would just tell me a little bit about your childhood, background, and then how you came to join the RAF.
LM: I was born in Bristol in nineteen twenty four. My father was a chef, or cook as they called them in those days, and he worked at Fishponds, Bristol Mental Hospital, which is at Fishponds, on a very huge estate there, and my mother was a mental nurse. I was the eldest of three boys, I had a normal Elementary School education, went to night school, and when I was, left school at fourteen I was an apprentice plumber. Joined, as most lads I was associated with, joined the Air Training Corps, which had a very strong following in Bristol, and after going through, suffering, seeing the bombing of my home town, Bristol, I decided, if I could, I would like to join the Air Force, and be a member of the bomber squadrons. In December nineteen forty three I volunteered for air crew, and I went down to Euston House in London on a three day selection board, and was selected for air crew, and was told I would be called up later. Um, in March nineteen forty three, on the twenty first, the day I was exactly eighteen and a half years old, I reported to Lords Cricket Ground ACR-
AM: (interrupting) Nineteen forty four.
LM: Nineteen forty three.
AM: Forty three or forty four?
LM: Forty three.
AM: Ok.
LM: Um, after spending about three weeks in London, Earls Court Road, being kitted out and doing elementary field programmes, I went up to Bridlington to Air Gunners ITW. The course up there lasted approximately six weeks, and from there I went down to (pause) um, Elementary Gunnery School which was at Bridgenorth. Actually, did nothing at all there, cos they were just setting it all up and it was just hangers. From there I went to number one ATS at Pembrey, in Wales, did my gunnery course, and we were flying on, doing the gunnery on Blenheims, with Lysanders towing the drogues.
AM: So you, you were shooting at drogues.
LM: Yes, shooting at drogues. I passed out and was presented with merit honours in August of forty three, and from there I went to 10 OTU at Abingdon. At Abingdon it was crewed up, the skipper being Pete Catterswife, who was a Canyan, navigator was a-, from Taunton, and the wireless operator air gunner was an Australian, Bob Wright, and I can't think of anybody else who was crew at that time.
AM: How did you get together? Who approached who?
LM: We just all went into just a big room, and all I remember is being introduced to the crew. I don't know whether it was the navigator, or what, because (unclear), and he was West country, from Taunton. It could have been that. Anyhow, we crewed up there, that's right, navigator (pause), oh, and the bomb aimer, who was an ex Glasgow policeman, Bob McLuer. And I think we spent about two to three weeks at Abingdon, flying on Whitleys, and once the crew, skipper was solo on the Whitleys, we then went out to the satellite airfield at Stanton air, air, Stanton Harcourt. On completion of the OTU we then went up to Marston Moor, and did our conversion on to Halifax. Then they were flying Haliax ll's, which weren't all that clever, but nevertheless, the Halifax was a very well built aircraft, and more crew comfort than some of the others. On completion of the course at Marston Moor, we then went to Driffield on an escape and evasion course. I think it was about two weeks there, doing all sorts of things, getting over barbed wire, crawling through ditches, you name it, and we finished up with an escape and evasion exercise where we were dropped off in pairs on the North Yorkshire Moors, and then had to find our way back to Driffield. One, two of the Australians had a good experience, they got as far as (pause) oh, seaside town. Scarborough.
AM: Scarborough.
LM: And they found an army vehicle which was unattended, and drove back in that. I think the outcome was that it was some army Major's transport. Anyhow, they did that. And we, some of us got to Norton. We jumped on the train there, and when it got, not to Driffield station, to one of the minor stations before, we got out the wrong side and back in to Driffield without being stopped or caught. Um, after doing this escape and evasion, we were posted to the Shiny Ten Squadron in January nineteen forty four at Melbourne, just outside York. There were several crews went there, and we did two mine laying operations from Melbourne. On one of them the aircraft was shot up a bit by ack-ack, but the only comment was 'several holes in the aircraft, no member of crew hurt' (chuckles). From there, one five eight at Lissett were converting to the Halifax lll's, and also they'd lost one flight, C Flight, which went to Leconfield to form another squadron. So there were four of us, new crews of us at Shiny Ten who were then posted to Lissett. And we went there, and were on B Flight. Lissett was a very happy station. Everybody was very sociable, and a good atmosphere all round. While there I was having sinus problems, so I went up to the hospital at North Allerton, and had to go and have a minor sinus operation. As a result of that I was limited to flying below ten thousand feet. At that time I, with my own crew, had completed seven ops, and because of my sinus problems I was grounded from flying on operations, so they had a spare gunner in my place. On one of those trips to Tournai on (unclear) they got shot down. Three of the crew bailed out, the navigator and the flight engineer became prisoners of war. The rear gunner who had taken my place as a spare, he bailed out, but his chute failed to open, and he was found in a lady's, in France, in a lady's back garden, and his chute pack with him unopened. So it was quite a shock for the lady concerned. I have visited where the crew crashed, and also where everybody was found. I went with my son, er two of my sons and a grandson, and we found the local mayor was very cooperative, and showed us everything they could. The crew, the other ones who didn't survive, are buried in a small plot by the War Graves Commission in Meharicourt, and I have made a few visits there. There are quite a few members of 158 buried there, also the famous air gunner VC, Jan Mynarwski is buried there. From then I spent the rest of my time at Lissett as a spare gunner. Fortunately I was in the position of, I did fly with some crews for quite a period. One was Ted Strange. His air gunner, rear gunner had appendicitis, so I flew with them on their last seven ops, and they were a very fine crew, and I got on very well. I then was crewed up with Sam Weller, B Flight commander. Trips with him were few and far between, but I did, I then was crewed up with another Australian crew, and I did their last six ops with them. I did a couple of odd spare trips, and, but very quiet time really. I did fly with one crew, Canadian crew, which I wasn't happy with, and when I got back I said to the (unclear) that I didn't wish to fly with them any more because there was too much talking, and not enough attention paid to the job in hand. He assured me I wouldn't fly with them any more, and I didn't, and tragically, they did lose their lives on an operation not long after. In the October of, correction, in September of forty four I was then crewed up with a Canadian crew, and I flew with them for my last trips, my remaining trips of (unclear). I did, I think it was five or six with them, and then one day we came back form a daylight raid on Cologne, on thirtieth October, that was, and the Wing Commander, Wing Commander Dobson, came out to meet me, and said, 'congratulations, you've finished your tour now, and your commission is through'. The crew only had about three more ops to do to finish their tour, and I said, 'oh, I'll stay with you if you want', and the Wing Commander said, 'you've had enough, done enough. You've had nine months continuous operational flying, you've done your share, you're going to have a rest'.
AM: So that was that.
LM: From then I was posted to Langar, just outside Nottingham, as an instructor. Wasn't enjoying that very much , and a call went out for two second tour gunners, and Tony Dunster was an ex 4 Group gunner like myself, on Halifax's, we were posted, he volunteered, and we went down to Wolfarts Lodge to crew up, and we crewed up, the crew we crewed up with, the skipper was on his second tour, he was a New Zealander, and the rest of the crew, the wireless operator, the bomb aimer and the navigator, and flight engineer, had all been together on their first tour, flying Stirlings, as had the captain. And, I must admit, none of us were very enthusiastic about the Lancaster. Those of us on Halifax's said that the Lanc was a Woolworth's effort, and the Halifax was the Marks and Spencers, In all honesty, the Halifax was more favourable to the crews. It was easier to get around in, and easier to get out of in an emergency. Neither the Stirling boys, nor Tony and I liked the Lancasters at all. One incident we had with the Lancaster, was we were down at, way down in, er, Germany, I can't remember the target at the moment, this conversation, but it was way down, oh, Magdeberg, it was, and we were just doing the run in on the target, and we had an engine go up in flames. Nothing to do with any enemy action, it's just we had a glycol leak which caused a fire in the engine, and the engine couldn't be, it wouldn't feather, so we went all the way back to base with an engine, a prop just windmilling, and got back an hour after everybody else.
AM: Safely, though.
LM: Safely. One of the best jobs we ever did was the Manna Operations to Holland, dropping food. We loaded our crews ourselves, they had like a hammock in the bomb bay, and we loaded everything there, then we went over and dropped the food. And that was the most, the best thing we ever did.
AM: How many drops did you do on Operation Manna?
LM: Two.
AM: You did two.
LM: Yes
AM: How low were you flying?
LM: Oh, practically ground level. It was amazing because (pause)
AM: Could you actually see the people?
LM: Oh yes. As you were flying over there were people in their boats, and that, waving like mad to you, and some of them waving that enthusiastically they could tip over, but it was really fantastic to see it, and doing it.
AM: As a contrast to what you were doing before.
LM: Oh yes. Before, I mean before it was a question of destruction, but this question was saving lives. So, and (pause)
AM: Going back to the destruction, if you like, what, what, what did it actually feel like for you, there in the, as a, you were a rear gunner?
LM: Yeah, rear gunner. Well, actually it's amazing because being the rear gunner you never saw what you were going in to, you only saw it as you were coming out of it. And I was one of the gunners, there was loads of us, we never looked for trouble. Some, you had some people were gung-ho, drawing attention to themselves, but I was always taught, and others did, never draw attention to yourself. Just sit there quietly watching, and keeping your eyes open.
AM: Did you actually ever use the gun?
LM: Never.
AM: Never?
LM: No. I seen them, but you, just you sit there quietly, keeping an eye on what-
AM: But you could have done if you'd had to.
LM: Oh yeah.
AM: And what was it like in the suit, when you were all plugged in? Were you always warm, because it was really cold, wasn't it?
LM: Yes, but I really enjoyed it in the rear turret. You were in a world of your own there, you were your own companion. The only thing, it did get very cold, but then we had electric suits, and something we could never understand, ICW at Bridlington, you had to strip a Browning down, blindfolded. It's all laughable when you think of it, because in the turret it was minus forty, if you'd touched any metal you'd have frostbite, so why did we have to do all that?
AM: But you could, if you had to? With gloves on.
LM: Yes, if you had to. (laughs) But that was er-
AM: What, what do you think about the bombing now? You know, in retrospect.
LM: Well, it's more accurate, isn't it. I mean, you've got all the aids.
AM: No, sorry. I mean about when, when you were actually doing the bombing, dropping the bombs , what, what do you think about that now, in thinking about-
LM: I, I've still no regrets about it at all. Having lived and seen my own city destroyed, with no problems at all. And all I can say, it's like people are on about it all, what all the fuss and bother's about. There has been a book written since then, which I have. Written, I forget the name of the author, but he had, once the Communists had gone from Eastern Germany, and all the records came out, there was a lot going on there, all the equipment for submarines being manufactured there, it was a big staging post for the Eastern Front. There was loads of military there, and we were quite justified. I don't know what, all this outcry afterwards. It's easy to be wise after the event.
AM: And you got the DFC?
LM: Yeah, yeah.
AM: For the number of tours.
LM: Gary has got a letter that shows-
AM: Has he?
LM: Yeah. But there were, I mean, I had, I know I flew with numerous crews, but with the exception of the odd one or two, I was fortunate, I flew with very good, well experienced crews, and some of them had had an horrendous time. In fact, er, can we have just a (unclear).
AM: Yes, of course. (rustling noises)
LM: When Douggie Bancroft, Flying Officer Bancroft, who I did quite a few, they, they got badly shot up, and they landed at Hurn Airport, in, er, outside Bournemouth, and nobody ever understood how they managed to get the aircraft back there. In fact the instrument panel is in Canberra, in a museum in Australia, from that aircraft, and obviously the crew that survived, er two of the crew, they never found, never found their bodies. They reckon they must have fallen through the hole in the aircraft where it was badly burnt. And they all got immediate awards, DFMs and DFCs. They thoroughly deserved it. But they were a fantastic crew that I had the privilege to fly with for the remainder, the rest of their tour.
AM: Yes. So, I'm looking at all the different ones. So you had a Kenyan pilot, Canadian pilots, Australian pilots, New Zealand pilots, English pilot. You went through the lot.
LM: Yes, yes. I was lucky.
AM: Any difference? What were the differences of the nationalities? Other than the obvious ones about language.
LM: Yeah, there isn't no difference at all. They were all first class captains. Very happy crews, and, you can't explain the comradeship with your crew. You were closer than you were with your own brothers. I suppose the reason, you depended on each other for your lives. We had a good social life together, and that's it.
AM: Did you get down to Bridlington, from Lissett?
LM: Yeah, yeah. I've walked back from there many a time.
AM: You've walked? From Bridlington to Lissett?
LM: (laughs)
AM: How far's that?
LM: About eight miles. Eight, ten miles. Yep. Come back many a night in the crew bus, not on the seat, but on the floor (laughs).
AM: You enjoyed it, then?
LM: Oh yes. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
AM: And then, as, after that, you ended up with 75 squadron?
LM: Yeah.
AM: And then, I'm just looking at a sheet of paper here than Len has given me with all his pilots on. So, 75 New Zealand squadron, you were there 'til the end of the European war.
LM: Yes. Yes.
AM: So what was it like at the end, then? What was your last tour? Were they Operation Manna? Er, not tour, sorry, your last operation.
LM: I don't know.
AM: Because the Operation Manna ones would have been, May forty four?
LM: They were May time, weren't they. Because the war finished, I think it was in May. It was May, wasn't it?
AM: Yeah.
LM: I know because everything went mad on seven five squadron at Mepal, but (pause) that was fantastic, because when we come back off leave from seventy five New Zealand, all of us crew, we all used to come back, meet up in London, before coming back to Mepal, and have a night in London. But we used to go to Mepal village. Lovely, all the Kiwis getting to do their war dance in the bar. It was great.
AM: So what was it like at the end, then? What, how did it, for you, how did it end?
LM: It was just like a, really a bit of a let down. I thought we weren't treated very good. I know the New Zealanders were going to go out on, I forget what they call it, they were going to go out to India, and that. They went to Scampton, all the Kiwis, and all the English people, we were shipped up to Snaith, in Yorkshire, just to be selected to ground jobs, and I finished up at Ringway, on the parachute school, to initially, to be instructor. But I thought, 'no thank you'.
AM: No? You hadn't enjoyed it the first time round.
LM: So that was that.
AM: So what did you do.
LM: I can't, I'm trying to think, 'what did I do?' (Pause) Oh, yeah. I finished up, from there I went out to India, that's right, went out to Karachi, and we did nothing. Christmas, it was. Christmas of forty four, that's right. Arrived in Karachi, and there's four of us in a tent there, and we were just doing nothing. We used to go in to Kara-, it was Mauripur Airport. We used to go in to Karachi, and there was a club there, and that. We used to go in gharrys as they called them, the horse drawn taxi there, and we were told not to say anything as they went through some areas, let the driver sort I out, and that was that. But-
AM: How long were you there for? Was that forty four or forty five?
LM: That was forty four.
AM: Forty four. So that was before the Operation Manna, then?
LM: No, it was after everything.
AM: Oh, ok.
LM: Let's see. (pause) The war finished, I finished my tour and ops in October forty four, no, this was forty five, of course it was.
AM: So it was forty five.
LM: Forty five.
AM: I'm just trying to get my chronology right.
LM: No, forty five, it was. We went out to there, and then from there we went across to Ceylon, and then we went up to Kandy.
AM: What were you actually doing?
LM: Nothing!
AM: Oh, right.
LM: We were just shipped out the way. And we finished up at Kandy with a few more bomber, ex Bomber Command people, and then they decided to give us a three months Officers admin course. (chuckles) And then at the end of that we were shipped out to Singapore, we went on the Cape Town Castle, it was. Yeah. From Ceylon to Singapore, and I finished up on the embarkation unit there, working. But my sinus problems came out again, and I went in the hospital there. And the hospital was at Changi, which used to be, as I understand it, was a mental hospital, and of course all the Japanese were in (unclear) all around the beds, cleaning and that. And then I was sent home from there, repatriated.
AM: How did you get home?
LM: They flew me home.
AM: On what?
LM: A York. Flew me home, in stages, you know staging all the way through. Landed at Lyneham. Where did I go after that? Oh, then, (pause) that's right when I got back (pause), I missed that out, yeah, we went through Compton Bassett, and we did a code and cypher course, and we were all told when we went there, irrespective of what happens, you will pass the course, and we weren't, we were allowed to go to the Officer's Mess to collect our mail, and we had to pay the Officer's Mess bill, but all they did, they curtained part of the airman's dining hall off, and gave us that as a lounge with a field telephone to the Officer's Mess if you wanted any drinks. Obviously we never bothered, we always used to go into the local (unclear) and that. I'd forgotten about that, it'd all gone.
AM: I'm dragging it all back out.
LM: Yeah, I forgot all about that. 'Cos we, we went there before we went out to Ceylon, er, out to Karachi, and that.
AM: To go to Ceylon, and Karachi, and Singapore, to do nothing, just-. How many of you?
LM: Oh, there must have been hundreds of us. We were treated like dirt, at the end of the war, irrespective of your rank. We were just shipped out there out the road, out the way. The Navy got rid of all their surplus air crew. The RAF hung on to all of us.
AM: Why do you think they did?
LM: I don't know. I mean, I, because I'm a number, a (unclear) a number, I wasn't demobbed until forty seven. May forty seven.
AM: Could you have been, if you'd have wanted to go earlier?
LM: No. We weren't given the choice. We were all just shipped out, well we all thought personally we were just pushed out the way. They didn't know what to do with us.
AM: Was that RAF in general, or just Bomber Command?
LM: Well, I don't know, it was RAF, to do with RAF, not Bomber Command.
AM: They were still paying you?
LM: Oh yeah, yeah, but it was disgusting. That's right, I forgot about that. Yeah, that's right, I went-
AM: Seems a long way to go to do nothing.
LM: Well, it was, I mean, finished up at, in fact, the Officers Mess, embarkation Officer's Mess was out, Karikal House it was, and it was out by number ten dock gate, and in a beautiful big house and grounds. And a Japanese Admiral died there earlier, he's buried in the grounds of this big Karikal House, beautiful, and huge grounds. But, er, but, it's like the food we had there, it was all dehydrated stuff. And chicken, we used to see them coming in crates.
AM: And then they had to sort of wet it to cook it?
LM: Oh yeah. But, it was horrible.
AM: So what happened when you were eventually demobbed?
LM: I went, I was, we went up, I forget where it was, it was up Lancashire way somewhere, and just went up. A nights stop there. And just give the uniform in, and the suit, and that was it. It's a big laugh, because, because of the weather back here, there was a shortage of vegetables, and that, no potatoes, and all that jazz, but, I can't even remember the name of the camp where we were, when we were demobbed. Somewhere in the Lancashire area, I don't know where it was.
AM: What did you do afterwards, Len?
LM: I went back to finish my apprenticeship. I went back to finish my apprenticeship in plumbing. What happened, you went back and finished it, and you got full tradesman's rate, but the firm was compensated by the government for that. Got my indentures, and that was that. And then, I got fed up. I wished I hadn't of come out. The reason I come out was we were going to get married, and my wife wasn't keen on the service life, as she thought. So, I come out, and I thought, 'I'm fed up with this, I want to go back in'. So I went and they said, 'oh, you'll have to come back in as an airman, because your commission’s gone'. And I thought alright, I'll come back in the air traffic control branch.
AM: So this was after you'd finished your plumbing apprenticeship.
LM: Oh, yes. I was working as a tradesman.
AM: So you worked as a plumber?
LM: Yes, but I was getting fed up with it, and I was missing service life, and I wanted to get back into it. And the pity of it is, once I got back in, with the travel you did, and that, my wife thoroughly enjoyed it.
AM: Where did you meet your wife?
LM: Oh, I met, during the war we were at Bristol, we went out to Bath in the building business, working on bomb damage repairs, and we were doing work, just at the bottom of the road (unclear), and we were working on it, and that's how I come to meet her. She was fifteen and I was seventeen then.
AM: So that was before the RAF, even? You met her before you joined?
LM: Oh, yeah, oh yeah.
AM: And when did you get married? What year did you get married?
LM: Got married in forty seven, June forty seven. We were engaged, and that was that. Well, after I come out, I come out in May forty seven, and we got married in the June.
AM: When you went back in, then, so you did your plumbing, and then you went back in to the RAF, what did you do? What sort of things did you do?
LM: Air traffic control.
AM: You were in air traffic control.
LM: Yeah, air traffic control, straight on. And it was fantastic. Everybody was so kind to me. Don't matter what rank, station commanders, it was just what ribbons I had, and I was better treated then than we were at the end of the war, at Compton Bassett, and places like that. Because they were all wingless wonders there.
AM: So how long were you in air traffic control for? (pause) Ish.
LM: Oh, from fifty three to seventy one.
AM: Oh, right through.
LM: Yeah, I enjoyed it. Lovely. Yes, I trained on GC, ground control approach as a director, what they call a director, on that, and then became a local controller.
AM: Which airport were you based at?
LM: I was at, down at (pause) down at (pause), oh I can't think, it's where all the helicopters are down south, Chinooks and all that, I'll soon tell you.
AM: It's gone.
LM: Odiham! I was just going to pick the tankard up, because when I left there they presented me with a tankard. I was at Odiham, and, oh, that's right, because while we were at Odiham we had a mobile x-ray that come round, and they found Renee had TB. So she went into a sanatorium that way, and they transferred her to one outside Bath. Of course, we had young children, and mother, not, two of my sister in laws lived in Bath, one had the two girls, we had two girls then, and then there was two boys, and mother had the two boys in Bath. So I was then posted to, I'd been at Chivenor, that's right, I'd gone from Chivenor up to Colerne outside Bath, so that's it, they moved me to Colerne on compassionate grounds, because my children were in Bath, and they did that. And then from Colerne, when everything was, my wife was back and that, went up to Dishforth. Dishforth, Dishforth out to Germany, Wildenrath in Germany. So that was that. That's where I, and then I come home from Wildenrath in Germany, and, where did I go? Trying to think. (long pause). Oh God, no, I can't remember where I was when I came home.
AM: Oh well, it doesn't matter. What was it like being back in Germany?
LM: It was lovely. I was at Wildenrath, and the Dutch people we used to go on a roam on, and the German people were alright. In fact, on Wildenrath they had what they called GSO, German Service, and oh they were using what they had, huts and that, as married quarters. It was great. I enjoyed it. I can't think where I was. Oh, of course I was, I was down at Halton when I finished. Yeah, that's right, I went to Halton. I was the sole, all they had a Halton was a grass airfield, and Chipmonks for air experience for the cadets, you know, the apprentices, and I was the sole controller there. It was lovely. Had a fantastic time there.
AM: Brilliant. Well, thank you very much. That was really interesting.
LM: Sorry I couldn't remember names going through.
AM: Oh, don't you worry about that.
LM: But they're all down there, and Gary's got a copy of the recommendation for the DFC.
AM: Thanks, Len. I'll make sure we take a copy of that, then.
LM: Oh, I think I've got another spare copy.
AM: We'll find one. Thank you.
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 Len McNamara
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Annie Moody
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
2015-07-22
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
00:40:20 audio recording
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Sound
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
AMcNamara150722
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Australian Air Force
Royal New Zealand Air Force
Royal Canadian Air Force
Description
An account of the resource
Len McNamara was born in Bristol in 1924. An apprentice plumber, he joined the Air Training Corps and volunteered for aircrew. Discusses his initial training at various stations, the gunnery course he passed with merit and honours, an escape and evasion course he attended, and crewing up with Pete Catterswife, a Kenyan. He flew Whitleys and then then converting to Halifaxes. Len was posted to 10 Squadron at RAF Melbourne. He discusses mine laying and bombing operations, aircraft damage, social and service life at RAF Lisset, military ethos and the award of the Distinguished Flying Cross. After sinus problems, he was a reserve gunner going on operations with various aircrews. Len was posted to RAf Langar as an instructor, but volunteered as second tour gunners and was posted to RAF Woolfox Lodge to crew up with a New Zealand pilot on Lancasters. Discusses engine problems, Kenyan, Canadian Australian, New Zealand and English pilots, talks about Operation Manna and discusses 75 New Zealand Squadron. At the end of the war he finished up at RAF Ringway as parachute instructor.
Len was then posted to various locations abroad, did a code and cipher course and was demobilised. He went back to his plumbing apprenticeship, got married, settled in Bath but wanted to get back to service life. He started back as an airman and went into the air traffic control branch serving at different stations in Great Britain and Germany until he retired in 1971. Len was into post war meetings and memorial visits.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
Germany
England--Nottinghamshire
England--Yorkshire
England--Cheshire
England--Rutland
Sri Lanka
Singapore
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1945
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending revision of OH transcription
10 OTU
10 Squadron
75 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
bombing
bombing of Dresden (13 - 15 February 1945)
crewing up
demobilisation
Distinguished Flying Cross
escaping
evading
final resting place
Halifax
Halifax Mk 2
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
military ethos
military living conditions
military service conditions
mine laying
Operation Manna (29 Apr – 8 May 1945)
Operational Training Unit
pilot
RAF Abingdon
RAF Langar
RAF Lissett
RAF Melbourne
RAF Ringway
RAF Woolfox Lodge
recruitment
training
Whitley
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2180/38310/S102SqnRAF19170809v10002.2.pdf
7de236dd7c2d3ae2dbe1de6bac5ac35c
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
102 Squadron Collection
Description
An account of the resource
Thirty-one items.
The collection concerns material from the 102 Squadron Association and contains part of a Tee Emm magazine, documents, photographs, accounts of Ceylonese in the RAF, a biography, poems, a log book, cartoons, intelligence and operational reports, an operations order and an account by a United States Army Air Force officers secret trip to Great Britain to arrange facilities for American forces.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Harry Bartlett and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2019-05-23
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
102 Squadron Association
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
A dedication to AVM Ekanayake Edward (Rohan) Amerasekera DFC & Bar, R.Cy.A.F
Description
An account of the resource
Biography of Rohan Amerasekera. Consist of early life, war service in the RAF including training eventually as as a navigator. Operational tours on 158 Squadron and 35 Squadrons. Lists his crew. Awarded Distinguished Flying Cross in January 1944. Final operational tour with 640 Squadron, lists two crew he flew with. Returned to 158 Squadron and awarded bar to DFC in may 1945. Continues with some personal recollections, promotions and courses. Concludes with return to Sri Lanka and service in the Royal Ceylonese Air Force.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Charles M Ameresekera
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1941-09-30
1941-11-03
1941-12-13
1942-02-20
1942-05-02
1942-09-26
1942-11-30
1943-06-13
1943-07-29
1943-09
1943-10-04
1943-11
1944-01-29
1944-08-16
1944-10
1944-11
1944-12
1945
1946
1951
1953
1955
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Sri Lanka
Great Britain
England--London
England--Berkshire
England--Yorkshire
Germany
Germany--Wuppertal
Germany--Gelsenkirchen
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Aachen
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Peenemünde
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Mönchengladbach
France
France--Boulogne-sur-Mer
Germany--Neuss
France--Calais
Atlantic Ocean--English Channel
Germany--Essen
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Saarbrücken
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Chemnitz
England--Huntingdonshire
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
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
Five page printed document
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
S102SqnRAF19170809v10002
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
158 Squadron
35 Squadron
640 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
bomb aimer
bombing
bombing of Hamburg (24-31 July 1943)
Bombing of Peenemünde (17/18 August 1943)
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
flight engineer
Halifax
Halifax Mk 2
Halifax Mk 3
navigator
pilot
RAF Abingdon
RAF Graveley
RAF Lissett
training
Whitley
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2180/38312/S102SqnRAF19170809v10006.1.pdf
962c58b2f564a417acc1720c99f2e0f6
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
102 Squadron Collection
Description
An account of the resource
Thirty-one items.
The collection concerns material from the 102 Squadron Association and contains part of a Tee Emm magazine, documents, photographs, accounts of Ceylonese in the RAF, a biography, poems, a log book, cartoons, intelligence and operational reports, an operations order and an account by a United States Army Air Force officers secret trip to Great Britain to arrange facilities for American forces.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Harry Bartlett and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2019-05-23
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
102 Squadron Association
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
AVM Ekanayake Edward (Rohan) Amerasekera DFC & Bar, R.Cy.A.F.
Description
An account of the resource
Biography of Rohan Amerasekera. Consist of early life, war service in the RAF including training eventually as as a navigator. Operational tours on 158 Squadron and 35 Squadrons. Lists his crew. Awarded Distinguished Flying Cross in January 1944. Final operational tour with 640 Squadron, lists two crew he flew with. Returned to 158 Squadron and awarded bar to DFC in may 1945. Continues with some personal recollections, promotions and courses. Concludes with return to Sri Lanka and service in the Royal Ceylonese Air Force. Notes that he was the first Ceylonese Commander of the Royal Ceylon Air Force and he died in 1974.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Charles M Ameresekere
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1941-09-30
1941-11-03
1941-12-13
1942-02-20
1942-05-02
1942-09-26
1942-11-30
1943-06-13
1943-07-29
1943-09
1943-10-04
1943-11
1944-01-29
1944-08-16
1944-10
1944-11
1944-12
1945
1946
1951
1953
1955
1962
1970
1974-03-20
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Sri Lanka
Great Britain
England--London
England--Berkshire
England--Yorkshire
Germany
Germany--Wuppertal
Germany--Gelsenkirchen
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Aachen
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Peenemünde
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Mönchengladbach
France
France--Boulogne-sur-Mer
Germany--Neuss
France--Calais
Atlantic Ocean--English Channel
Germany--Essen
Germany--Saarbrücken
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Chemnitz
England--Huntingdonshire
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
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
Four page printed document
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
S102SqnRAF19170809v10006
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
158 Squadron
35 Squadron
640 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
bomb aimer
bombing
bombing of Hamburg (24-31 July 1943)
Bombing of Peenemünde (17/18 August 1943)
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
flight engineer
Halifax
Halifax Mk 2
Halifax Mk 3
navigator
pilot
RAF Abingdon
RAF Graveley
RAF Lissett
training
Whitley
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/495/17730/MCollerAS1874018-170424-040001.1.jpg
1db94a92ecd3a870fe2f3fd42088b905
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/495/17730/MCollerAS1874018-170424-040002.1.jpg
e1e56537b9a4d0d62b5deea6aeccac4c
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
Coller, Allan Stanley
A S Coller
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Coller, AS
Description
An account of the resource
17 items. An oral history interview with Allan Coller (1924, 1874018 Royal Air Force). Also a number of other items associated with the Air Cadets and his service in Sri Lanka and India including a scrapbook of photographs.
The collection has been licenced to the IBCC Digital Archive by Allan Coller and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Chinese ABCD Hotel Menu
Description
An account of the resource
A menu for the Chinese ABCD (American, British, Chinese, Dutch) Hotel. A selection of English and Chinese dishes with drinks and sweets.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Chinese ABCD Hotel, Brownrigg Street, Kandy
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One double sided printed sheet
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MCollerAS1874018-170424-040001,
MCollerAS1874018-170424-040002
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Civilian
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Sri Lanka
Sri Lanka--Kandy
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
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/495/8384/ACollerAS160803.1.mp3
43ced8a4a3e4ad4ee6eba1afb7b2925c
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
Coller, Allan Stanley
A S Coller
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Coller, AS
Description
An account of the resource
17 items. An oral history interview with Allan Coller (1924, 1874018 Royal Air Force). Also a number of other items associated with the Air Cadets and his service in Sri Lanka and India including a scrapbook of photographs.
The collection has been licenced to the IBCC Digital Archive by Allan Coller and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
CB: My name is Chris Brockbank and today, I’m in Golders Green, London with Alan Coller, who was busy with the RAF with munitions during the war, and we’re going to talk about his life in London but then also in the Royal Air Force and afterwards. So, Alan, what are your first recollections of life?
AC: As a child? Well, I was, I had a, what do you call it? A very, a childhood of the best nurses you could get, from, and the best pram and I was looked after very well as a, as a child. I had quite a happy childhood until, and then holidays in Margate at Cliftonville, and there were holidays for maybe five or six weeks, and they were very happy holidays. And how will I put it? Have I gone too far up on the thing? But as a child, I was very well looked after. Oh, school. Now, my first school, if you could call it a school, was a Montessori in Cazenove Road in the Stamford Hill area, and my nurse took me there. The first time she took me there and left me, and I was in there and played with things, and I happened to pick, on the wall was a bow, and of course being a nosy child, I looked at the bow and I pulled it and it opened up, and the teacher came in. She, ‘Oh, you opened the bow. Now you can put it, you can do it up, can’t you?’ I said, ‘I can’t’. So, she said, ‘Well, you’ll stay here till you can’. And then I thought to myself, Alan, she can’t keep me here all night. There’s a nurse coming for me, so jolly well don’t do it, and I left the darned thing. The nurse came in and this lady said, ‘Oh, your child is very rude. He wouldn’t do what I told him’. Anyway, that was the end of my Montessori. A one day Montessori. So they took me away from there and then, then I didn’t go to school until I was old enough to go to the older school, and then my trouble started. Another lot of trouble, because they took me to school with a nanny. A council school. Now, first of all, I saw everybody looking. A nurse in uniform taking me to a council school. So, the first thing I did when I went to the toilet, I was in the toilet, and suddenly two boys, one on each other’s shoulders, started spitting over it and pouring water down over me, so I came out soaking wet. That was my next school. So they took me away from that school [laughs], and then luckily enough, they moved. Not long after they moved from Stamford Hill to Golders Green, emigrated I call it [laughs], to Golders Green. Then I was put in to a school, Wessex Gardens in, I think it was off, how do I explain Wessex Gardens to anybody? It was on the 226 bus, that’s right, I remember going on this 226 bus with a nanny to this school, which was also a council school. I get to the council school, and a boy comes up to me and says, ‘My father hates your mother’. I said, ‘What do you mean he hates my mother?’ ‘She’s, my father washes your mother’s windows in [unclear] Avenue and she’s horrible to him’. So, I said, ‘What’s it to do with me?’ ‘Well, I’m going to tell you and I’m going to make you sorry for it’. So, he gave me a biff and he knocked me down. He trod on my neck and I went to, I didn’t go to hospital, but I went home and the doctor came, and he said, ‘Your son’s got to stay in bed X amount’. Well, in those days, they didn’t, they didn’t go back and say, ‘we’re going to take the boy to accuse him of assault and battery’, but anyway that was that, and then I went back to the school again. And then there was a master there called, well the name, the name is gone a little bit, Elliot, I think he was called. I think the master was called and he used to cane me, every week I got caned. So, I couldn’t understand why I was being caned. He said, ‘You don’t, you’re not doing your work well. You’re not doing this’, but then I found out, he’d asked my father for a loan, because he, my father had him come to me privately, to help me to read and he didn’t say much, but when I went back, he caned me because I hadn’t done my homework properly, and I reckoned, and then my father told me, as I said, maybe I said it too early, he, he asked my father for a loan and my father wouldn’t give him, and that seems to be the way of him getting his own back on me, so I was not doing very well at that school. So, my father took me out that school, and sent me to a private school, which was heaven, and that was in Golders Green, called Woodstock and the headmistress was a Mrs De Vries. A Dutch lady whose kindness I could not believe. How kind she was. And one day, a little girl said to her that I was, I was chasing her, and the headmistress, instead of shouting at me, got the little girl and me together, and she said to the little girl, ‘Well, little boys chase little girls. Did he hurt you?’ ‘Oh no, he didn’t hurt me.’ She said, ‘But that’s how little boys behave. As long as he didn’t hurt you. I’m sure he didn’t want to do you any harm’, and it was so nice to hear, and I became friendly with the little girl, and that was my school there at Woodstock. Then she sold the school, a beautiful school, and I went to another school in Frogenham, in Hampstead, an also private school, where it was a little bit mad this school, because the headmaster was called The Owl. That wasn’t his real name but I can’t remember his real name, but we called him The Owl, and he believed, he believed that if there was any problems, you go in the boxing ring. Well, I’d never boxed in my life, but there was a pupil there called Charlie Burrman who didn’t, who said to me, ‘I don’t like you and I’m going to take you, you’re going to go into the boxing ring with me’. Well, I couldn’t box, but I could jump about, I was pretty agile. So, Charles gave me what he thought was going to be a real smack in the face, and I jumped beside him, and he went right over the ropes, and I felt so good. So there was no more boxing there, but at that school, as I was a good runner thanks to my father chasing me when I was younger to put a shirt on, I won three or four cups for my running, so I did a bit of sports. My daughter’s got hold of the cups, she’s got those cups. So that was my story about that school. I didn’t learn a lot, but I had a master there which never hit me, but he used to, used his desk as a battering ram. He’d shout out ‘Lord man’ and shove his desk into me like that. Didn’t hurt me, but everybody couldn’t believe it because my Latin was no good. I could do the first two words in Latin, and then they’d say, ‘go to page one again’, you know. So Latin wasn’t my subject, but the master that taught, taught maths liked me. He said, ‘You’ve got a bit of life in you, Alan’, he said, and he made me feel good. The master. But this was a very funny school because of that but then the war came, the Second World War, which to me was a blessing. It seems funny to say it was a blessing, because my life was not exactly a happy one, but I knew that maybe I was, I think I was thirteen or fourteen when the war started, but I, when the war started, I was farming, because my, she wasn’t a nanny at that time, but I have a picture of the lady up there on the corner, was my, was my governess, and she said to my mother, ‘Children should not go to stay at hotels. They should go to farms for their holiday’, which was the best thing she ever said, because I went to this farm, Berry Barns, in Hertfordshire, and there I, I was taught. Not only that, I was eleven, and I was even taught to drive a tractor when I was eleven. It wouldn’t be allowed now, but I had the honour of learning to drive a tractor, understanding about the, how even to use to, what we called a hand start on the, what do we call it the, swing the engine. And I learned that, and I learned to pull, pull a trailer and I learned to help to climb a ladder, which I was frightened of generally, but because I didn’t want to show I was frightened of a ladder. I had to do it to do the haystacks. And there I learned, that taught me about general life. Then the second war came. I know I’ve gone around a little, around a bit in a circle there. Then the second war came in 1939, and believe it or not the, what’s the plane now, the, what was the name of the plane that came over, that flew over from Bassingbourn? I’ve got a senior moment at the moment. It wasn’t a Lancaster because they hadn’t, they didn’t have a Lancaster at that particular time.
CB: How many engines?
AC: It was a Blenheim. The Blenheim. The Blenheim flew over from Bassingbourn and what it, and we had on the farm, there was a searchlight. A searchlight company. Auxiliaries. They weren’t full soldiers, they were the auxiliary, and this plane came over, and instead of them sort of running for cover when the plane came, they waved at the plane, and of course, they got into trouble, because they were supposed to show that, what they would do if an aircraft came low over. They were in real trouble, but it was a bit of a laugh, but not for them. And then that was 1939. My, I, I was told that I had to go to a place in North Devon to be evacuated, and I was nearly fourteen, so I left my, my governess stayed on the farm, because she found the farmer next door, they fell in love. She fell in love with the farmer next door, so that was good for her on the farm, and it was also good for me to be on the farm. Anyway, I was sent to Braunton in North Devon, and when I arrived there, there was a school called Challoners School, and I wasn’t very good at schools as I’ve been talking about, and the headmaster was one of these headmasters that said to a pupil, shouted at a pupil, ‘Your father owes me money. He’s overcharged me for the meat’. And I never heard this before, that a headmaster would be shouting at one of the pupils, to tell him that they owed him money. I thought, this is a funny sort of headmaster. And then the headmistress suddenly said to me, ‘Alan, I’m going to bath you tomorrow’. I says, ‘You’re not. I’m fourteen years of age. I don’t need you bathing me’. ‘Well, I’m going to bath you’. I said, ‘You’re not’, and I told her to take a running jump, and, and she rang up my mother and father to tell them, ‘Take your son out of this school because he’s been rude to me’. She didn’t, she didn’t tell them why, and what I said, I got sent to a hotel called the Swords and Sands. Well, that was a wonderful hotel, and I was sent there. I don’t know if it was wintertime, I can’t remember, and I fell in love with the, with the manager’s daughter, and he wasn’t too happy, but anyway, my mother came down to collect me from there, but at least I had, ended up with a little love affair and back to London again. 1940 which, I couldn’t care less about the Germans dropping a bomb, I thought, well, they can drop a bomb on me and I don’t think, they’d miss me but I’m sure they’d miss me. But anyway, my father had built, in 1938, my father had built an underground shelter. I think it was fifteen foot under the ground. He did it in 1938. He got, he thought war was coming, so he’d already built this shelter. Well, I wouldn’t sleep in the shelter, because he wouldn’t sleep without the light, he had to have a light on all night, and I can’t sleep with a light on all night, so I slept in the garden, under a tent, with the shrapnel coming down, because they were firing the guns, but I lived to see the day and then that was, that was in, yes, and that was until nineteen, we stayed there till 1941, when my father had to move from Golders Green because his factory, his hat factory had been bombed in the city, and we moved to Luton in Bedfordshire. And then I worked for him, unhappily, until I was called up in the Royal Air Force when I was eighteen. Before I was eighteen. I was called up for my medical in, I think, October, yeah, October 1940, er, wait a minute.
CB: One.
AC: It can’t be. It must be -
CB: 1941.
AC: No, it wouldn’t have been 1941. I didn’t go into the Air Force until 1943, so I’m just trying to work that out, but anyway, I was called up and I had my interview. I’ve got, I think I’ve got the date somewhere hidden away, and I then went into the Royal Air Force. It must have been in nineteen, early 1943 where I was sent to Skegness, Skegness, for my initial training, and I stayed in there. The food was terrible but I managed to live, I managed because the food was, was cooked by trainee WAAFs, and the only time you got a good meal, was when the WAAFs had taken their course and had their test, their test to see if they, and that was the first good meal I had. In eight weeks, I had two good meals. But the training was rough, was quite a tough training I was pleased to say, because we’d lost, because the Royal Air Force had disgraced themselves in Crete, and they more or less waved to the Germans landing the parachutists when they came down. They didn’t know how to fire their rifles or anything, so they literally, so they, they’d got the idea when I went in, I’m pleased to say, for a tough training and I loved [unclear], I enjoyed it. Others were moaning and groaning, but I enjoyed the running and jumping and crawling under barbed wire, and I was always the first, as a good runner, I was always the first one back, back to the camp to get a nice tea, so that was my, I was treated very good at Skegness. And then came the move to Royal Air Force Barnham, near Mildenhall, which was part of Mildenhall, and there I got the, I mean, I was working more or less hour after hour on the, what do we call it? The ordinance. On the ordinance. And then, because what they did there was, anybody living near, near an area where they were going to deliver the fuses for the bombs, they would send you, so I got sent. The first one I got sent to, was RAF Henlow. I don’t know if you know it. I had to deliver some detonators. Detonators. I’ll get the word right now. And then I went home, because my father, my parents were in Luton and I had a day’s leave there, and then I went back to RAF Barnham. Now, RAF Barnham, there was a problem there I had. A big problem. The flight sergeant, Maddox. Flight Sergeant Maddox. I can’t forget him. He was from Liverpool. Hated Jews. And he made my life, if I had a pass, he would say, ‘Excuse me. Can I see your pass? I’m going to check on it’, and that, what he called check on it, was meaning that he would take half an hour or an hour with it, and then I could go. That was the start, but I was a lucky boy, because, I didn’t know it, there was somebody working in the guardroom that knew me from Luton market, and I was friendly with him. He didn’t, he didn’t meet me, because he was, he had to work in the back, but he would send me, he sent me, one day, a little note, ‘Please hide your shirts’. That was all it was. And this note came to me, and I knew what it meant, because I’d bought an officer’s shirt, exactly the same colour as the officers. Lovely collar and tie for when I went out to leave, so, I thought, Alright, I’ll hide my shirts, and when I came back, 2359, I thought, I’ll keep the Sergeant Maddox waiting till the last minute, so I came back 2359. ‘Hello. Good evening, Sergeant Maddox’, and I said, ‘I’m just about to walk out’. He says, ‘I want you to come over here’. I said, ‘Is that an order, Sergeant Maddox?’ ‘Yes, it’s an order’. So, I walk over. ‘Yes, Sergeant Maddox’. ‘Open your greatcoat’, which I did. ‘Is that the shirt you were wearing this morning?’ ‘Well Sergeant Maddox, I change my shirts. The other one’s in the laundry’. And I closed it up. I said, ‘It’s rather late, Sergeant Maddox. Can I, can I go now?’ ‘Yes. You’re dismissed’. So, I went out, went back to my barracks, back to my hut. Hut ten. And that was Sergeant Maddox calmed down there. Now this went on for quite a time this, but I wasn’t going to complain, because I’d already made my mind up, that wherever I was going to shut up, and take the trouble as it came. Now, I had a Rabbi visit me, who came very nicely, talked to me. He said, ‘You can have this holiday and that holiday. You can have kosher food, you can have that’, and I said, ‘Excuse me, Rabbi’, I said, ‘Do you want me to be happy on this station? I’m the only Jew here. Do you want to make me out even worse than some of them want to treat me?’ I said, ‘I’m going to have exactly the same food as the men, I’m going to have exactly, have the same duties as the men, I’m going to have the same holidays that they will. I’ll give my Christmas holiday up for, for, so that somebody that’s got a child can go on leave, and I’ll take my holiday after Christmas’. ‘That’s alright’, he says. ‘I agree with you’.’ He didn’t start, he didn’t start giving me the whole rigmarole, but, ‘I’m going to give you a prayer book’, he said, which I still have. ‘You keep that. You keep the prayer book in your pocket’. The Lord’s Prayer and all that, which came in useful later. So that was that, and now, how do I get after that. I’m still there and then, and then, of course, I went on leave, and I think the leave, I get a telegram from leave, ‘Come back immediately. You’re wanted for service’ or something or other. So, I went to a wedding, and I left the wedding, straight back to camp, and I found out I was being transferred from, from Barnham to, where was it now? I can’t remember where I went after that. Oh, I went to a place in Lincolnshire. I may have written it down. Let’s see if I wrote it down. Not Skelling. It was between, it was to a station quite close to Skegness. Quite close to it, but it wasn’t Skegness. I went there. That was a holding station, where I stayed until I was then sent from there to Skellingthorpe. That’s right, to Skellingthorpe, where the Australians were, and the Canadian squadron was, and there we had a, the Canadian sergeant or officer. I’m sorry, it must have been an officer, shouts out, ‘you’re going to be sent to a place where, where powder doesn’t mean the powder of a girlfriend. It means the powder of a real war’. And we reckoned it was going to be Okinawa. Had the feeling. Everybody said it was going to be Okinawa. Well, so I stayed there until the, until I was going to be embarkation at Liverpool. It must have been Liverpool, yeah, I think I went to Liverpool, and I went on a ship called the Royal Mail ship, Cynthia, which sailed from there, and we were supposed to be going, the atom bomb had been dropped, so it wasn’t, we wasn’t going to Okinawa. We were going, they were sending us to some. I’ve got, I’ve got this here which is useful. Can I -
CB: I’ll stop for a mo.
AC: Sorry.
[machine pause]
AC: That, that, now this I’ve got it here. I’ve got it here.
CB: Right. So, you’re at, you’re on the Cynthia.
AC: My first day at sea. October 1945. Yes, that’s right. How can it be 1945? Yes, it must have been 1945, because I went in, in ‘43. That’s right. The first day at sea, October 1945, from Liverpool, England. Our first evening meal. The one blessing about being in His Majesty’s forces, was they made you so hungry, that any food was welcome, and so we were served up with salted pickled beef. Now the luck of the draw for me was, being a four by two, which, as you know, is a Jew, I was used to a type of a dish. Salt beef it was called, and so I found this, to my very hungry appetite, fulfilling but approximately ninety percent, ninety five percent of the rest, owing, of course, by the rough weather, were in no uncertain term, very sick, while I felt in good form as long as I got quickly up on deck, away from the sickly stench. My bonus was collecting as many empty lemonade bottles, and taking them to the kiosk, and receiving back two pence, old currency, per glass, per bottle. Another bonus, in the two or three days of bad weather, was helping a seaman lying on the floor. I helped him to sit up and asked his name, which was George Waller, and then I replied that I had a cousin by that name, and he said, ‘where did he live’, and I replied, ‘Golders Green, London, Northwest 11’. With that, with a large grin on his face said, after I told him my name, ‘You’re my cousin, and I am the purser on this ship’. I must say, I never went hungry or disappointed at the quality of the food for the rest of the voyage. I, of course, kept schtum. Do you, can everybody know the word schtum?
CB: Yeah.
AC: Even though my close acquaintances kept on asking why I was not having my meals with them. As to sleeping arrangements, this was actually on the mess, on a mess. Sounds good, doesn’t it? On the mess deck, and we slept in hammocks, which each hook was connected to the next hammock. The fixed tables were under the, the fixed tables were under the, under, anyway, under the fixed tables. The, the reveille was 0630 hours, and my, and all hammocks had to be taken down and folded up, but one morning, the next hammock hook went over mine. I knew I could not fold it up, so not wishing to wake the poor soul up, thought I was capable to hold and lift his hook off mine. Well, believe it or not, his hook off mine. Well, I was, I lifted his hook off his, off, his weight pulled me across the table, pulling my trousers down past my knees. He then got up, luckily not hurt, but gave me a punch I have never forgotten, leaving me with quite a bruiser, which I justly deserved. He saw the situation after calming down, and got, we, we got on for the rest of the voyage. My next faux pas was when I was organising a singsong after lights out, when suddenly, somebody shouted out, ‘quiet’, and I answered, ‘Wrap up’. The next thing I remember, was a torch beam shining in my face, and suddenly shouted out, ‘I’m the company sergeant major’. And to amazement out of his mouth, thundering tendering roar, followed by the words, I was going to be charged with insubordination to an officer, and to hurry up, get dressed, to be taken to the brig. I was taken there, and there was one other person who, in my opinion, did not look a friendly type, so I spent the night awake. At 0630 hours, I was watched over while I shaved, and then the company sergeant major arrived, who in no uncertain terms told me, that, crumbs, that he was going to make sure I would march smartly into the court. He then put his hand on my shoulder, and I then said, in no uncertain terms, Kings Regulations, by which he took his hands off my shoulders. I then said I want to be represented by an RAF officer, as I had horrible feelings that the Army was not too much in love with the RAF. This was granted, and I was marched in to the, in to the room, and after removing my forage cap, and my defence officer asked the duty night Army, the officer that charged me, ‘Did you announce yourself?’ And the officer answered, ‘No. But my voice of authority should have been, should have been enough’. The case was dismissed on the grounds that the duty officer should have announced himself when entering. I was told, after my defence, officer to, ‘Don’t do anything like this again, or you won’t be so lucky next time’. The ship eventually reached Bombay. We got to Bombay, and my next beginning, and the next beginning read what was it, I wondered as we, yeah, I wondered, when we docked in Bombay, what type of transport awaited me, as to getting to, to the, getting to the handed out booklet which, yeah, the handed out booklet which was, was supposed to have gone to the Andaman Islands and Nicobar Islands, which was quite different from the strong rumour at our holding camp at Skellingthorpe. The rumours was, before the atomic bombs were dropped, that Okinawa was going to be our, roughly that was the rumour. My next feeling was, what was India going to be like? This came as soon as I disembarked, and reached the monument of the gateway to India. This was surrounded by beggars. Example, women with maimed children, as well as maimed men, etcetera. There was a smell hanging over the area, not very pleasant. There were troop buses parked not far, and those of us in the RAF were transported to a place called Worli, about twenty minutes drive from, and allocated to a hut, which were not too uncomfortable, to stay there until further orders. In memory, my memory is not too good as to how long it was, but as Worli was not too far from Bombay, I had time to visit the nice air-conditioned cinema, which was open late into the night, and kept me from excessive heat of the day.
CB: Ok. I’m going to, we’ll just stop there for a mo.
[Pause]
CB: We’re just picking up on the fact that you got to Bombay as a holding camp.
AC: Yes.
CB: Where did you go, and what did you do after that?
AC: Well, the holding camp. Then I went from the holding camp to -
CB: Madras.
AC: Madras. Yes, to Madras, and waited there to then get on the ship, to take me to Ceylon. I can leave the name Ceylon there. When I got to Ceylon, I stayed, I was in a hut, in a place called Ratmalana. Now, Ratmalana, I was told when I was there was, you had to be very careful. You slept, because there used to be raids on the, because there used to be raids, and you had to be very careful when you were sleeping, that you were aware, that you could be, the, the nets could be cut and they’d drop on you, and you’d be robbed, so I, I found a stray dog. I made friendly with the dog and I had, the dog used sleep under the bed, and he would wake me up if anybody, if there was anything wrong, and that dog stayed with me until I was going to move away from this. Ratmalana was not my final camp. Ratmalana was quite, was not very far away from Colombo, so one could get in. There was a place there, a rest camp there, and I can’t remember the name, but it was so lovely. We went there. We were allowed to stay there one or two days if we had, if we had leave. I got sunburnt. I went with somebody down there and went to sleep, by mistake, in a deckchair, and got sunburnt, and I went to the doctor, and the doctor was very good, because the doctor said to me, ‘For goodness sake, don’t tell your base that you’ve had sunburn, because they will charge you with self-inflicted injury’. So we suffered a bit, and we managed to hide it, and we managed to get the sunburn calmed down, because we would have been charged with self-inflicted injury. Now we stayed there, and then we moved from there. I went to Negombo, which was the air base not far from Colombo. I went there, and then they didn’t know what to do with us there. We just messed around there, but then they sent us to KKS, which was Kankesanthuai, right the north of Sri Lanka or Ceylon. There we, we did our, we were told to, we had to, we did our discipline there, but it was mostly telling us what to do to clear, for clearing up for the, when 1947 came, to break away from, from Britain. They were going to be independent so that was interesting, but the best bit was when I was sent from, I was sent from Sri Lanka, from KKS to Kandy. Now Kandy was a pleasure. Beautiful place. And there, I also did anything they told me to do. There was very little there to do. Again, it was just a matter of waiting until they found something more for me to do, and I made a, I had my girlfriend there. I met a WAAF, a very sweet lady, and she kept me busy, and then, what was it now? Yes, then I did a guard duty in Kandy. They put me on guard duty, and suddenly, an officer comes in with a car, with his car to show me. I was on guard duty, and he brought a car, and the car, the card said, ‘This car cannot be taken out of this area after 5 o’clock’. Well, it was after 5 o’clock when he brought the car in so I said, ‘Excuse me, sir, but this car cannot be taken out’. ‘What are you talking about?’ he said. ‘Are you trying to be funny with me?’ I said, ‘No sir. This is what it says. I’m not funny. This is what I’ve been told to do’. ‘Well, I’m going to, I’m not taking any notice of you, and you’re the type of person that’s causing a problem, and I’m going to stop you if I ever catch you making lifts, taking lifts on these trucks, because I’m the officer in charge of transport’. I said, ‘I understand, sir. I understand’. And this went on, and I thought, Alan, Alan, what can you think? And then I thought of Kings Regulations, so I said, so I said to him ‘Excuse me, sir, but there is a way out, sir’. ‘What is it? What is it? What is it? Hurry up’. I said, ‘You can give me an order, in front of the sergeant in the back, in the back of there. I will call the sergeant out, and I want him to hear you give me an order, sir. If you give me an order to release the car, the car will be released. Are you going to do it, sir?’ So he did. I called the sergeant out. I said, he said to me, ‘I order you, LAC Coller, to release the car’. ‘Yes, sir.’ Boom, boom, boom, and the car was released. Two weeks later, I thought, I’m going to be in trouble. I got promoted to a corporal. Now, it’s was a bit of a muzzle. I thought you’d be interested in that one.
Other: Yeah.
AC: Is it still working?
CB: Keep going.
AC: Anyway, so I, I go back. Then they send me back, then they send me back to KKS as a corporal, in charge of about, well, there was about fifteen or twenty men went back to clear up, to get the base cleared, and we had an officer there, and he was from, an ex-Singapore, and he was a silly officer. I can be rude about an officer. He didn’t want the men. We could not, because it was such a small amount of men, we could be, he tried to make us that I had to sit on his table, and all the others had to sit at all the other tables. So I said to the officer, ‘Sir, excuse me, but as we’re such a small group, wouldn’t it be good if we could, we don’t, we’re not under, we’re all doing, you give us work to do for the clearing up, and we can all be near one another’. He wouldn’t do it. So, anyway, I said I wasn’t going to sit on his table, and I didn’t. Now, one day, one day, he had a few drinks over the top, and I had to go out to find him, and I found him. I found him in a terrible state, and I got him back and he was a friend of mine. He said, ‘You keep quiet’, and he was a different man, so that was a little bit of what I did. And then we spoke about labour. He said, ‘we’re not having anybody from local, to work on the camp’, so I said to him, ‘Leave it with me, sir’, I says, ‘because we, if we’re going to have trouble with the neighbours, if we, if they come to get work here, and we tell them you can’t have them, there could be trouble, sir’. ‘You handle it. You handle it’. So, what I did, I met the elder of one of the villages, who was wanting to get work on the camp. I said to him, ‘Look’, I said to the work, I said to them, ‘I found someone that could speak English’. There were a few people there who could, and I said to them, ‘Look, I want to give you a chance of having a job on the camp, but you’ve got to do what your told, and, and, and there should be no taking money from one another. Your pay will be given to you on the Friday, and I don’t want to see, if I’m doing you this favour, I don’t want to see you taking money from anybody to get the job. We’re going to have it nice and clear’. So, I managed that and he was quite pleased, the officer, that I’d cleared this up, and I said to them, there was no trouble, and I managed to keep it, and then my lady friend, my girlfriend in Kandy, rang me up.
CB: The WAAF.
AC: The WAAF rang me up to tell me, ‘Alan, you’ve got your’, what we call it?
CB: Demob.
AC: Demob. ‘You’ve got, your demob’s come through, but don’t tell your officer. We will tell him, but I thought you’d like to know’. So, I, well, that’s good. So I stayed there, and suddenly, I got my demob, and I went on the, I came back on the Duchess of Bedford. Sounds a nice boat. From Bombay and landed in Liverpool. I can’t remember the dates, and I, they put me into, I had, I had I think they, I stayed in, I stayed in Blackpool. They put me into a, paid for a home there, but I had to be in at, I mustn’t, I mustn’t come after ten. She would lock the door. So I thought to myself, well, this is not much good, because if you went to the cinema, it finished, it finished maybe at ten past ten or quarter past ten, but then I made friendly with the lady upstairs. I said, ‘If I tell you some stories, will you open the door for me?’ [unclear]. And she opened the door for me, and the lady said to me then, ‘Where were you last night?’ I said, ‘Well, I was in my room’. ‘You wasn’t’. I said, ‘I was. Did you try to come in to the room?’ ‘No I didn’t, but I know that you wasn’t there’. I says, ‘Well I am’. And that was my little story from, from there. And then, I think, then I got the troop ship, took me, took me to, back to Liverpool. No, I done the troop ship. I know I’ve spoken about that but, and when I actually, the funny part was, I came back with a tin box, a tin, ‘cause you couldn’t have any wooden boxes in, in Sri Lanka, ‘cause the worms and God knows what, would bite into the wood, so we all had tin boxes. Now, these tin boxes weren’t supposed to be taken, but I had one I could pull along the road, and when I got to, I think, when I got to the station, to come off the station, it was icy like mad. It was, it was freezing cold in London.
CB: This is 1947.
AC: Yes. January 1947.
Other: Yeah.
AC: And I pulled, I pulled the, I pulled this blooming thing all the way from the station, because they wouldn’t let me on the taxi. I pulled it all the way along the street. I was knocked out by the time I got it back to [unclear] Avenue, but I had presents for my daughter, like things you couldn’t get in and that was my trip back. I’ve landed now in England.
CB: Yeah. So where did you actually get demobbed?
AC: Well, I got demobbed in Blackpool. Well, [unclear]. There’s a base north of Blackpool, and I got demobbed itself where I went, I know I went to Marks and Spencer when I got a beautiful brown striped suit. I was quite proud of it till my daughter threw it away. And I, I mean it was lovely. I could go and get a job or -
CB: So, what job did you go to then when you became a civilian?
AC: Ah, now, I wouldn’t work for my father, so I went to, I want to go on a catering course, and I thought, well, Alan, get into catering. There’s always work and you can always earn money, and if you don’t like it one day, you’ll find something you do like. So I got, I went to a place near Vauxhall Bridge. There was a place that taught, and a Mr Vincent was the teacher. Now, when I went there, Mr Vincent told me that there was no place for me. There was no room for me. So he told me to go, ‘If I were you’, he said, ‘Go to J Lyons and Company, and they have, they have hotels. They have a hotel, The Marble Arch and Strand Palace’. He said, ‘They may be able to give you, you may be able to go in as a trainee manager’. So I listened to them, and I went to there, and they gave me this, they gave me a job at the Marble Arch Hotel in, well in Marble Arch. Now, I worked there and my job was to start from the bottom, which was just washing dishes. Not washing dishes, washing, washing vegetables, and then you moved up to the fish department, where I was cleaning fish and boning. Then when you’d done that, you moved up to the, to the meat department, which was quite interesting because we went to Smithfield Market to look at meat, and ask questions, whether you liked the meat, the colour of the meat and so that was that. Then from there, I think then we went on serving, learning to serve at the tables, which was quite interesting, and I did that right up to 1951. That’s right. And I looked at the ones that were working with me. They were all part of the family, of the Lyons family. I think they came under, they had another name, which my senior moment again, I can’t remember their maiden name, but there were five or six of them, and I thought to myself, if there’s five or six of them, I’ll never be the manager. I’ll always be either, I could end up by being in charge of the serving, the tables, but I’ll never be a manager. So I said, Alan when you go on holiday, I’m going to go to Denmark for a holiday, so that’s when I, I went on a holiday to Denmark in 1951. Because of what King Christian the tenth had done for the Jews, I thought I’d honour them with my company. And when I went there, somebody said to me, ‘Would you take a parcel?’ Well, I wasn’t thinking like the days now, if you take a parcel, did you pack it yourself? It wasn’t happening in those days, but I was allowed to take a parcel, so I took this parcel for a Mrs Rosenberg, to take to her. So I had a friend with me, that went with me called Neville Throp, and I said, ‘Come with me. We’ll go to see this Mrs Rosenberg, and we’ll have lost nothing’. It was a Sunday and we’re not losing any of our holiday. See what we can. Well what we got to the front door, my little nose was good at smelling, and I could smell beautiful chicken soup. Really good chicken soup, so I thought we must be at Mrs Rosenberg’s house. I could smell something good, and it even smelled better when she opened the door. I said, ‘Hello Mrs Rosenberg, I have a parcel for you. We have a parcel for you’. ‘Come in. Come in’, she said. So she said, ‘Would you like to stay for lunch?’ Well that was, I looked at my friend, I said, ‘well, we’ve got our feet under the table, so let’s take advantage of it’, and then she introduced us to her son, and her and her husband and her daughter, and we got on very well, and we were staying in a hotel in Copenhagen, near the station, and I said to them, ‘I’d like to make, we’d like to make a party for you. Would you like to come to a party?’ Well, they said, ‘Yes. We’d like to’. ‘Cause we, they gave us, we were very lucky, Neville and I, we got a lovely place in this hotel. They gave us a suite. So they came, but they said, ‘oh, by the way’, the sister said, ‘I’m engaged to somebody’. So I said, ‘Well bring him as well’. And the other one said, ‘Well, we’ve got two girls we can introduce you to. Can they come?’ ‘Yes’. So, when they, when they came to the hotel, this beautiful looking girl came along. I was supposed to be with a, I wasn’t supposed to be with this girl, and the one I saw was called Cilla. Now I can say that. The other one was called, all’s fair in love and war. I let my friend have the other one. Well, when I met Cilla, this lovely girl, she couldn’t speak a word of English, which didn’t worry me because we could make, we sang a little song, “I thought I saw a pussycat”, and she was singing it in Danish, and I was singing it in English. Anyway, I made a date with her, and I ended up marrying her. Not that time, but we fell in love. She learnt to do English in three and a half months, which I couldn’t have learned Danish. I’m still learning Danish, and she was told at the school, her Jewish school, it wasn’t up to scratch as far as I was concerned. They told her she was dyslexic, and she’d never be able to learn a language. Well, she learned. Boy, did she learn, and she came to England in, I married her in 1952, at the Copenhagen Synagogue. My father was angry, because he wanted me to marry her in London. I says, ‘No you don’t. Her father’s given me permission to let her come to England, and so that I’m going to give him the honour. He should have the party in Denmark’. And my father reluctantly came there the last minute. Didn’t, thought he could come like Lord Fauntleroy, and he couldn’t find a hotel, because he was too late, but we found him one in the pouring rain we were, just the thought that we were getting married, we went out to look for a hotel for him, and we found one, which he didn’t like, and he drove them so mad they sent him to another hotel, which he liked. But that was my, to do with my marriage. Now do you want me to stop now?
CB: We’ll stop there for a mo.
AC: Yeah.
[machine pause]
CB: That’s really good Alan, up to your wedding, and we’ll cover the other bits later.
AC: Yeah.
CB: But first of all.
AC: Yeah.
CB: Can we just go back to early days? What did your father do as a job and -?
AC: Well, my father was a hat manufacturer. A ladies hat manufacturer in Aldgate, Aldgate, Aldersgate. One of the, one of the two, and then I worked for, I didn’t work for him then, in the factory and then he, he moved because of the bombing. They bombed his factory in Aldersgate.
CB: He moved to Luton.
AC: And he moved to Luton.
CB: Why was he difficult to work for?
AC: He was difficult to work for because, when he took me, when I was sixteen, he told, he said to the staff, he’ll do anything for you. He’s my son, but he’ll, if you need the floor sweeping, he will sweep the floor. Well, that was alright. Or he will do this, he will do that. He will cut the hat. Anyway, I did that for him and, and I never got promoted, if you know. I was always going to be doing that as far as he was concerned, but the war came and saved me from him.
CB: Ok. So why was he such a controlling personality?
AC: Well, he had a bad life as a child. He was thrown out of his home, but normally, when you’re thrown out of a home, you don’t do the same thing to somebody else, but he’d got this attitude he, what I did in the factory, I, I always, he didn’t know but I was doing all, if the lights went wrong, if the lights went wrong, I fixed them for him. If the, if the machines went wrong, I fixed it for him. I did a lot of mechanical things there, that would have cost him a lot of money if he’d got, but I just did them, and, and, but when I came out the Air Force, I had the fun of saying to him, ‘You know dad, when you’re, when you’re in the military, you get promoted if you’re any good. You won’t. You don’t promote me’, because he said to me, when I came back, he said, ‘Oh’, he said, ‘That’s good. Are you going to come and work for me?’ I said, ‘Dad, I got promoted in the Air Force. I never get promotion with you, so you can stick it’. And I went and sold china and glass. I went up to the potteries and, bought, bought glass and pottery with my brother-in-law. We had a van. We used to go up and load up, we had to buy from the floor. Everything that was on the floor, you had to buy. That was in the potteries. But they were, they tried, you could not get saucers, because they earned more by selling cups, because they could get more money when they were doing it. If they started selling saucers, that was dearer for them. They would charge you so much so you had, you ended up with lots of milk jugs, and things that you didn’t want, but you had to take them, because that was the way they did it, so what we used to do, when we sold the things to the markets, we used to say, ‘Come on. Come on, take a few of these, and then we’ll give you this lot at that price, and this lot’, we had to bargain with them. We made a profit but it was tough work.
CB: Where did you sell all this material?
AC: In the markets mostly.
CB: Where?
AC: I went to the biggest market, was the one down in Shepherds Bush market was a big market, Luton market was a big market. Any, any big market.
CB: So how many markets did you do in a week?
AC: Well, we did four or five markets. Early morning, we used to get a stall, and sell from the stall, and then then my brother, my brother-in-law, he got, his father bought him a shop in Greenford, and then I went to work for him. He was a bit better to work for, but I couldn’t see anything there, but I think I was married by then. I can’t remember how my marriage came in because then I, so that’s really that’s as far as I went, but then I got a job in the textile, working for the clothing trade. I can’t, can I stop there for a minute?
CB: Yes certainly.
AC: Before I get them mixed.
[Pause]
CB: Now, Alan, the bit that we could usefully go into more detail.
AC: Yeah
CB: is the handling of munitions.
AC: Yes, fine.
CB: So, your trade in the RAF was one that was unusual.
AC: Yeah.
CB: But what exactly did you do? So, when you were originally at Barnham, what were you doing there?
AC: Well, we, we, we had, we had, for instance any, we had mustard gas on that was secret then. Mustard gas. Now we had to check the mustard gas, there was no leakages on the mustard gas. They were clad in leather. They were American ones. Five hundred pounders.
CB: Right.
AC: So, we checked them, we had to check them. We didn’t have any gas mask or nothing, but I was pretty, I could smell if there was any gas. They had to be loaded up. Any ones with any leakages had to be taken especially on the wagons. No warnings to anybody. They were taken to a special area for destruction. Don’t know where the destruction area was, but they were taken. That was one job we had which wasn’t very comfortable.
CB: Where were they stored on the airfield?
AC: They were stored, not on the airfield, because that’s why we were, Mildenhall and Barnham was separate. They were stored in the woods and they were in the trees. And then we had, we had, what would we call it? There were incendiary bombs that could drop down. They would drop them down in glass cases. They weren’t the ordinary incendiaries that we normally do. They were also dangerous. They had to be lifted and loaded. We had -
CB: What were they loaded into? Because -
AC: I can’t, well -
CB: They were phosphorous in water, were they?
AC: They were in glass.
CB: Yeah, so the glass container had water and then phosphorous inside -
AC: Well, whatever -
CB: Was it?
AC: Yeah. Well, I know they were for incendiary work.
CB: Right, but what were you loading them into? Into bomb containers or into storage units.
AC: Well, I can’t remember what they were put, I think they were put into crates.
CB: Right.
AC: And taken away.
CB: Yeah.
AC: That was that. And let’s think of what else, because we had the most, yeah, and then we had ones that were already ammunition. Quite heavy boxes of ammunition for rifles. For -
CB: For the machine guns.
AC: The machine guns. They were in boxes.
CB: Yeah.
AC: So, I knew that they, but they were very heavy. They were no cranes, we didn’t have any cranes for them. They were all hand -
CB: Manual labour.
AC: Hand, manual. That didn’t hurt me, because I was quite strong in those days. I can’t think of anything else.
CB: Well, how, so this was actually an ammunition dump.
AC: That’s right.
CB: And what was the design of the dump, because clearly there was a blast problem if there was -
AC: Well we -
CB: Explosion. So what was the layout?
AC: The layout was the bombs had to be so many feet apart. All the bombs were not, they were in stacks, but there was distances between of course. As you say, if one lot went off, they would have set the whole lot off. They were well spaced because the forest was quite a big area. It was quite a big camp.
CB: And what sort -
AC: And they were bombed, because they bombed the line. I wasn’t there when, I wasn’t there when they bombed, but they showed me where a German plane had come along and followed the rail track along, and then dropped the bombs. Luckily not on the bomb dump itself, but on the railway line. They cleared it up by the time I got there, but I was told about this, and we had the, I think it was the ones, the bombs that were in three layers. We screwed them. They were all screwed together. We had to screw them together, but the tail units, they used to tell us what type of tail units to use, because they had to be a special shape for different, for different – we didn’t ask why, what or when. And that’s what we used to do. The hoisting, we had hoisters for the, and if you wasn’t careful, they’d spin around and give you a real -
Other: Crusher.
AC: Crusher in the stomach but I mean we, that was really what we were doing there.
CB: So, the bomb sizes were what? Do you remember?
AC: Well, the ones we used to do were in three different, in three different layers. They were called a special name.
CB: Ok. So, the thousand pounder bomb was one of the standard ones.
AC: A thousand pounder was on its own, yeah.
CB: And then?
AC: We didn’t screw them.
CB: The five hundred pounder.
AC: The five hundred pound ones, we didn’t have to screw anything on those.
CB: Right.
AC: It was only when it got to the big twelve thousand pounders, say. They were in, they weren’t all in one piece and they were screwed, everything was screwed. It was screwed on.
CB: Those were the tall boys.
AC: Yeah, the tall boys.
CB: Right, yeah.
AC: Yeah.
CB: So how much of this was above ground, and how much was underground?
AC: No underground, all over ground.
CB: And were there blast screens?
AC: No. No. It was plain. It was, there was no special -
Other: Ground work. It was, it flat, was it?
AC: All flat. Yes.
Other: All flat.
CB: So bombs came in to be assembled, then you were sending them out -
AC: Yeah.
CB: To the stations, were you?
AC: Oh yes, we did
CB: What were them being loaded on to?
AC: They were on trailers. They used to come up on the trailers.
CB: Lorry trailers.
AC: Yeah, the big ones. They were the proper ones. They were about, quite the 20 or 30 foot long ones. They would come in and we would load them.
CB: Right. And they’d go off to the stations.
AC: To the, but, but the detonators, I don’t know why they never went with them, but we had, well maybe ‘cause it was dangerous to leave the detonators. We took them. Especially, I had, I was lucky. I went to Henlow. I went to Henlow. I’ll tell you the places, I did make a list of where I went to with them. I went to Henlow and I went to Waddington, and I went to, yeah, well I went to three or four places with them. That’s all.
CB: With the detonators.
AC: With the detonators, yeah.
CB: As a delivery,
AC: As a delivery, yeah. Strubby was where I also went to, but that was also, Strubby was the one near Skegness.
CB: Near Skegness.
AC: Yeah. The one -
CB: Yeah.
AC: I couldn’t remember.
CB: Yeah.
AC: Yeah, everything else. Yeah.
CB: So when you were on a station -
AC: Yeah.
CB: You weren’t delivering, you were receiving.
AC: Yeah, that’s correct.
CB: The ordinance. So what did you do there, because that did have a bomb dump. Every airfield had a bomb dump.
AC: What do you mean, what did I do? Which? At the station.
CB: Well, when you were at Skellingthorpe for instance.
AC: Well, Skellingthorpe, I wasn’t doing anything with the bombs.
CB: Right. What were you doing there?
AC: Well, that was, that was ready to go. Skellingthorpe was ready to go.
CB: Abroad.
AC: To so called Okinawa.
CB: Yeah. Ok.
AC: But I didn’t go.
CB: Right.
AC: But that was a Canadian. That was quite interesting.
CB: Good. Ok, good.
Other: The glass. Can I just ask?
CB: No. Hang on. Just a moment.
[machine pause]
CB: The question about incendiaries is interesting.
AC: Yeah.
CB: Because it sounded as though they were pretty delicate in glass. How big were they? And what did they look like?
AC: What I remember was they were about that high.
CB: That’s a foot, yeah.
AC: Yeah, something like that.
CB: And diameter or -
AC: Well, I would say almost like a bottle.
CB: Right.
AC: Almost like a bottle. I’d never seen them before. It wasn’t like an ord, I’d seen incendiary bombs but we never had that kind of -
CB: But were there many of them, or was there just -
AC: There was quite a number, but whether they used them, I mean they were, I don’t know if they dropped them first or if they dropped them after the main bombs.
CB: But did you move many of them out or did you only receive them?
AC: I moved them out more than received. Well, if I had received them, I would have had to, of course, have had to take them to stack them, but I remember taking them out.
CB: And they were, they how were they packaged?
AC: They went out in like little crates, like you would with bottles.
CB: Because, were they, what colour was the glass.
AC: White.
CB: Oh, so you couldn’t see in.
AC: No.
CB: What was inside?
AC: No, but I think, how they worked, I don’t know.
CB: But you thought they were incendiary.
AC: Well, I presumed they were, I couldn’t see what else they were.
CB: Ok.
AC: They weren’t, it was not a poison gas.
CB: No.
AC: The poison gas ones, I knew by the smell of, I was surprised at those. They were our American ones. Five hundred pounders they were. But this base, Barnham was a secret, was one of their secret camps.
CB: Yeah.
AC: Lucky I didn’t get anything, anything on my lungs.
CB: Yeah.
AC: Because there was a certain amount.
CB: You could smell it.
AC: Oh, you could smell it.
CB: And where did it leak from?
AC: Well, it leaked from the actual bomb I presume, but they were leather clad.
CB: Right.
AC: That’s what I remember very well, and I think we had to wear gloves when we were picking them, when we lifted them, but the five hundred bombers we had to lift.
CB: Did you?
AC: Yeah, not exactly -
CB: No crane.
AC: Not that I can remember.
CB: Right. So how many men would be doing the lifting?
AC: Well, I think there had quite a number of men on the station.
CB: I was thinking of how many people need to lift a five hundred pound bomb.
AC: I think three, but it would take, I think, I don’t know how we lifted them actually. I was going to say that.
CB: Because a man isn’t going to be two hundred pounds.
AC: No, no, no.
CB: In those days.
AC: But there were no cranes there, if I remember. The cranes were over with the main, with the main bombs. These were, these bombs, these, these, these ones that were -
CB: The chlorine gas.
AC: The ones that were, what did we call it? The poison ones.
CB: The chlorine gas.
AC: The gas ones.
CB: Yeah.
AC: They were kept right away from everything. There were no cranes up there.
CB: No. Not even hoists.
AC: No. So there must have been, unless we did it by pushing something under and lifting the bomb up. That’s how I -
CB: Jacking it up.
AC: Yeah, ‘cause it would, it slid on, if you slid it onto a truck, then we could have lifted it and then put it on to a trolley.
CB: Right.
AC: And then taken it.
CB: So when you went abroad, were you involved with munitions there?
AC: No. No. That was, that was completely, we didn’t touch -
CB: Ok.
AC: We didn’t touch munitions.
CB: Right. Now going back pre-war.
AC: Yeah.
CB: One of the points you mentioned, was Mosley.
AC: Oh, Oswald Mosley.
CB: So, what, how old were you, and what were you doing?
AC: Well, they were days when I was young.
CB: How young?
AC: I must have been about twelve or thirteen.
CB: Ok. So, tell us the story of Mosley.
AC: Well, we heard that Mosley, Oswald Mosley, had his marches from Ridley Road, and I knew my auntie was living in Stamford Hill, but, and I also knew that the station would be asking me where I was going, because, that’s because they didn’t want me to, and I knew the taxies, so I knew what I was doing when I went.
CB: This is to do with the Mosley rallies.
AC: So what we did, we were illegal. We shouldn’t have done it. Technically, I mean to throw bottles at his, at his vehicle, was against the law, but I had to work out in my mind, what does one do? Let him get away with it? Or one has to do these things. The police were busy. More busy where he was going to stop at South Tottenham.
CB: This is Oswald Mosley.
AC: And South Tottenham was an area where Mosley had a following. He didn’t have such a following in the Dalston area, because it was more of a Jewish. The ones in South Tottenham, I don’t know how he got a lot of his votes he got there. But I’m sticking my neck out. I mean, I could have gone there. If a policeman had caught me throwing a bottle, he would have charged me.
CB: So what did you do exactly?
AC: [unclear]
CB: So, you left the house.
AC: I left the house, got on the train to go to, I, I, I mentioned the station, where was it now? I had to go to, I think I mentioned the railway station, it was a tube station. It’s in the notes.
CB: Right. Ok.
AC: I think I recorded it.
CB: Yeah.
AC: And then from there, the police were there. Where are you going?
CB: Oh, I’m going to my auntie. Auntie Hetty.
AC: Where does she live? Stamford hill. So that, when I got to Stamford Hill, I didn’t, I didn’t, I went further. I went to go to where I mentioned. Ridley Road.
CB: Ridley Road.
AC: And everyone was there, but I had a taxi. When I went out of the station, there were so many Jewish taxi drivers, I hailed one and said, ‘I want to go Ridley Road.’ ‘Right. Get in’. So, I stayed on the floor so if the police had come along.
CB: So, what had you got with you?
AC: I had no weapons with me. Just when I went down there, we, we, we got hold of what we could do.
CB: Oh, you didn’t take bottles with you?
AC: Oh no. No. No. No that would be with intent, wouldn’t it?
Other: Yeah.
AC: But that was all we could throw at him. We, we -
CB: Well, where did you get the bottles from?
AC: Well, they seemed to find bottles.
CB: When you got there.
AC: When I got there.
CB: So, did you, you met up with people you knew, did you?
AC: Well, when I got there, of course, they were all waiting, and Mosley, Mosley was still there. He was giving a talk before he went, before he went, he was shouting to the, and the women were shouting out. ‘Oh, you shut up, you Jewish mother’, you know. They were shouting out. ‘I’m a Jewish mother, but I can give you some lip’, you know. They knew how to hammer them. And just to see these, I mean, he wasn’t having a happy journey. I don’t think he reached Tottenham somehow or other, because it was all the way along, there was people waiting for him, but I thought I’d start at Ridley Road. I thought, I’m not going to be dangerous. I’ll be worse off to follow, I knew where he was going to go to. This was, he was telling us they were going to go to South Tottenham. To his meeting.
CB: So where did you get these bottles?
AC: Well I didn’t throw many bottles, I must admit, but I had a chance. I wasn’t the one that stopped, I couldn’t be the one man army as we call it.
Other: If you could just clarify that, it would help the tape.
CB: Mosley was an agitator.
AC: Yeah.
CB: And so, what exactly was he saying? What was the message?
AC: He was saying that Jews were no good. He was trying to say that we’re going to clear the country of the Jews. They are, they’re taking, they’re grabbing, they’re making money. They’re, and, and we, we the people are losing by having Jews. It was really anti-Semitic and was more or less as Hitler. He spoke as Hitler would have spoken, and to me, that was, I felt very touched by it, that he shouldn’t get away with it, and shouldn’t upset people. If it was a true story, I would have left it alone. It wouldn’t have been my, if it was a political thing, somebody wants to be labour or liberal or whatever, it’s none of my business. I accept what the law says on those things, but when it comes to anti-Semitism, I didn’t want, because I knew from 1933, as a boy, I read about what Hitler was doing, and I see Mosley carrying out Hitler’s wishes and that’s what I was against, and if I’d got caught throwing a bottle at him, I’d have taken the, if I would have been put in prison for it, I would have gone to prison. I know maybe my parents wouldn’t have liked it, but I would have felt better to do it than not to do anything.
CB: Ok. Now changing the subject again.
AC: Yes. That’s alright.
CB: When you were in the RAF, you were with a variety of people from all sorts of backgrounds so -
AC: That’s correct.
CB: How did you see the variation in their abilities?
AC: Well, the abilities for the persons like me, putting things together, lifting things, was of a low grade. Now, there were people there that, for instance, they couldn’t fly or they got what they called it, frightened.
CB: LMF.
AC: Of flying, yeah, and they were there. Well, there was a difference between the ones that were, or the ones who had never seen a Jew before, or thought, what the hell’s a Jew doing? I was the only Jewish airman on this particular station. Now -
CB: This is Barnham.
AC: Barnham.
CB: Yeah.
AC: Royal Air Force Station Barnham, but I’d made my mind up that whatever was said and done, I would handle the situation. I wouldn’t go crying to the, to my commanding officer, these are talking about me, these are doing this or that. I took it. But I was very, very lucky that my flight sergeant at the end, before I was demobbed. Can I say what the flight sergeant said? When I was demobbed, there was a party that they’d invited me to, because this was 1947, and the first thing that my commanding officer, that my flight sergeant said, Flight Sergeant Evans. I can’t remember his first name but I remember his surname. ‘Alan’, he said, ‘Isn’t it wonderful I can call you Alan’. I said, ‘Yes. Yes, flight sergeant’. He said, ‘You don’t call me flight sergeant, you call me by my Christian name’, which I can’t remember. ‘I want to tell you something’. I said, ‘That’s nice to hear’. ‘I’ve followed you through your service in RAF Barnham. I was your flight sergeant. And when I, when you once had a black eye, I said to you, how did you get your black eye?’ I said, ‘I fell out of bed flight sergeant’. I says, ‘I fell out of bed. That’s how I got my black eye’. He says, ‘I knew you were telling a lie but I appreciated what you told me and’, he said, ‘I had faith in you’. And I said to him, ‘Do you know, do you know, I’m so pleased I met you because you’ve taken a lot of things off my mind now. You’ve given me something that I knew that whatever I did on that station, you knew about, and flight sergeant, Sergeant Maddox won’t have the pleasure of knowing what you said to me’. So that’s how I, that’s how I left that. I got really what I wanted to hear.
CB: Yeah. What about the abilities of the other people?
AC: What do you mean? The –
CB: Well in terms of their intellect.
AC: Well, I made a friend with a man, friend called Bob Emery. Bob Emery. Robert Emery. And he was a very intelligent boy. I don’t know why he was there, he didn’t tell me, but he, he was quite clever because they had a Spitfire at Thetford, and he showed people around. I’ll put my glasses on till I, yeah. Excuse me, ‘cause my eyes are. Yeah. He, there was a spitfire came to Thetford where they were getting money for the wings or whatever they called it, the wings, and he was showing people all the instruments and everything on this, on this Spitfire. Now, he was a friend of mine, but I don’t know really, I don’t know if he is still alive anymore, but he married a girl from Bury St Edmunds during the war, before we went abroad. He was very nice. And then there was a fellow called Joe Frazer. He was my friend. He was from Scotland, and I took him home to, when I had leave, I took him back to Golders Green with me, because he didn’t want to go back to Scotland but, ‘cause we had a Scottish maid so he got on very well with the maid, and he had a nice time. So that was a little bit of goodness I could do. So, I had two friends, and they didn’t like the way Sergeant Maddox was treating me, but I said what can I do? I just have to take it, and I’m not going to start going to the commanding officer, saying and saying, ‘Do you know sir…’ because, but if anything went wrong on this station, they blamed me. Alan’s whistling, like wolf whistles and things. It wasn’t me wolf whistling. So, they’d take, what they did, they had a film, if we went to see a film or a theatre, they’d take me in at a special time and they’d take another one in. Now the other one, was the one that was wolf whistling, not me. So, this was coming all the time, a terrible thing I was doing this, I was doing that. Well then, on one of the airfields, I’m walking along, across. I was an LAC then, and these two fellas came, two airmen came along. ‘We’re going to teach you a lesson. You’re a Jew, aren’t you?’ I says, ‘Yes. Anything about that? You want to do something about it?’ I loved saying that. ‘Do you want to do something about it?’ ‘Yes, we’re going to make you kiss our feet and say sorry to Jesus’. ‘Oh, are you?’ I said. ‘Are you?’ So they came along, and one got the back of my arm in a half nelson, and the other looked on. I said, ‘Come on, break the f’ing thing. If you break it, there’s going to be a fantastic court martial, you know’. ‘What are you talking about?’ I says, ‘if you break my arm, you’ll see’, and he took his arm away, put it down. I said, now excuse my language. ‘F off’. You see, a little bit of knowing the, knowing the King’s Regulations was a great help to me. I wasn’t a very clever person, but if you knew King’s Regulations, you could get away with things.
CB: Thank you.
[machine pause]
AC: This is, this is where a woman’s intuition comes in.
CB: So now we’re, if we could just go fast forward.
AC: That’s alright.
CB: To your later years. So, you’re out of the RAF, you’ve done your catering and hotel stuff, which you decided not to pursue.
AC: Yes. That’s right and I did.
CB: You then worked in London for a bit. So, what did you do there, and what have you done the rest of your life?
AC: Well -
CB: In civilian world.
AC: Well, my wife suddenly says, I was doing the travelling for, well, my father upset my wife by being rude to her, and I said to dad, ‘You don’t be rude to my wife. Be rude to me, but not to my wife, and if you do it again, you’ll see what’s going to happen’. Well, he did it again. So I says, ‘Thank you, dad. I’m leaving the country. I am going to Denmark, taking my wife with me where she’s loved. I couldn’t, the rudeness that you’re giving her is not helping her. She’s a lovely lady and I’m not having her upset’. So I got a job in Denmark, as working for Polly Peck dresses. It’s not the Polly Peck that you know now. And the job was, I was agent for Denmark, Norway and Sweden for the clothing, Polly Peck’s clothing, and I went to Denmark. I got my, through the, I got the papers signed that I was an agent, and I started and I got, I got, I was selling for some of the big stores in Denmark, Sweden and Norway, and I was doing quite well until Polly Peck, one day, did not deliver the goods and they were going to sue me for loss of profits. So, what did I do? I thought, Alan, time to go to the embassy. British embassy. So I went to the embassy, and I introduced myself, and I was introduced to the, the, the member that is in charge of commerce. The commercial -
Other: Attaché.
AC: Attaché. And he said to me, ‘Nice to meet you. I’ll do you a favour if you do me a favour’, and so I thought, well, how can it go wrong. So he said to me, ‘If, if you take an hour and a half or a couple of hours every time you visit [unclear], or parts of Copenhagen or Aarhus or around Denmark, will you give me the time to take a few samples? I’ll give you the samples and will you show them?’ I said, ‘Yes’. What could I to lose? So he, he, I, I, I took that, and he gave me samples, and one sample was of a rug. A car rug. And this car rug was beautifully made with a story. When they sold it, there was a story of the mills [unclear] in Manchester. One of the places near Manchester. I can’t remember the name of it. And I got a very big order from Magisin du Nord, one of the biggest stores in Copenhagen. A very big order. And that gave me a beautiful living. I was, and he gave me the agency for it. I had the agency even when I left Denmark, that agency kept on paying me and that was one thing, and then I did, still did, still did the Polly Peck things, ‘cause Polly Peck got a very nice letter from Her Majesty, er, His Majesty’s government. I think it was the King was dead. It was her majesty then. I think the King died. King George the sixth died in –
CB: ‘52 yeah.
AC: ‘52. So I was in Denmark after that, with my wife. So, I got, so how am I doing now? I’ve got to where?
CB: You got the agency for this.
AC: Yes, I got the agency, which gave me and also, he said to me, ‘You know, Alan,’ he said, because we were on terms of like Alan and whatever his name was. You know, there’s a slack season in the, in the fashion business. I have a friend that runs a [unclear] brewery, he runs a place making bottles. Now if you’re stuck for a job, you just give my name, and he’ll give you work. Well, there was a time I went down there, and I says, ‘I’ve been sent by the British embassy attaché for, - and my name is Alan Coller’. ‘Oh yes, we know about that’. ‘Can I have work?’ So they gave me work sweeping the glass to put into trailers and then take it away. It was really rotten work, and then they gave me a job of when the, when the molten glass goes down into the, if it went wrong, the glass would then go into the basement into, into water. Well, if you’re not quick getting it out, it gets solid glass, so my job was for half an hour, going down and pulling the molten glass out of it into a barrow, into a barrow, into a barrow, before the molten glass starts to climb.
CB: Yeah.
AC: Terrible job. Right. That was that job, then, I had to do, if there was nothing to do with the molten glass, I had to check the compressors to see that the compressors were working. So, I then went to the compressors, made the notes, and then one day, I felt very, very tired and I thought, Oh Alan, for God’s sake, how are you going to stay awake? ‘Cause I was on nightshift on that particular one. I really felt tired. How are you going to stay awake? I said, ‘I know. I’ll clean the machines’, because they were filthy. The compressors were absolutely terrible. So what did I do? Better to do than do nothing. I cleaned them, and I brought the polish up and everything, and in the morning, I go up. I think I finished at seven in the morning. The foreman said to me, ‘Did you, by any chance, clean the compressors?’ In that tone of voice. I thought, I’m in trouble here. The union, you know. I thought, oh bloody hell. What have I done? I said, ‘Yes, I did.’ ‘Well you made a very good job of them’, he said, ‘and I’ve got a better job for you now’. So I got a better job being a [unclear] it’s called. The [unclear] is Danish, for it’s a long line that goes along with eighteen bottles on it one beside the other. If the machine goes wrong, all the bottles fall down, and they’ve lost a shift, so my job was to be there to watch the bottles going down, which was a nice easy job. I could wear a, I could wear a suit. So I was good at it, because I’m not being rude about the Danes, but the workers, there would have a drink, a good old drink, and they were not capable of looking straight. I never took a drink at night. My idea of work, was to work and keep my head clear, so I did this, and that’s the job I got, and I was being well paid. Well paid for the job. And so, between that, and bits and pieces I was earning, so I got a flat for my wife. She was staying with her mother and father. I got a flat. I got enough money to pay for a flat to live in in a nice part of Denmark. Beautiful flat, and I stayed there for nearly two years, and then my father, he got unhappy and he wrote me a letter, to say please come back. I want to see. And I had a baby by then, took the baby with me from England, and the baby was nearly two years old when it came back to London, but I still got money from the, from the I’ll show you one. I’ve still got one of the blankets.
CB: Right.
AC: That I sold.
CB: So, when did you retire from that? Well, you came back to Britain after that did you?
AC: I came back to Britain and I then, then my wife, this is where my wife comes in, bless her. She said, ‘Alan, I’m fed up with you travelling all over the country and coming all around. I never see you. I’ve got an idea’. I said, ‘What’s the idea?’ She says, ‘I want you to be a driving instructor’. I said, ‘But I can drive, but I don’t know if I can teach to drive’. I mean, teaching and driving. So, and she said, ‘What I’ll do’, she says, ‘Alan, I’ll take a part time job while you do the course. I’ll take a job’, ‘cause she was a hatter. She was also a milliner. ‘I’ll take a job, and that will pay for the money that you’ll lose’, by not, so I went to the British School of Motoring, who then sent me to a course, a two weeks course, and I did the two weeks course and I passed, and then they sent me to Swiss cottage, where I started to work for them, but I had to work, I had to work for two years for them, because I wasn’t paying anything to them. They taught me, so they were paying me, maybe a small ten pound a week or something, something ridiculous, but anyway, I’d learned how to teach to drive. Not the way BSM wanted me to teach, because I learned from BSM, their idea of teaching, was to get money for lessons. Not so much as to teach them and get rid of them, which I thought was the right way of doing it, was to teach them and say goodbye to them. Not keep them because the money was coming in. The manager did it, because he had to do so many, a car had to do so many hours per day, for him to keep the car, but I couldn’t give a damn about that. I wasn’t going to do, my pupils had to be treated, so anyway I then, after the two year period, I went on my own, and being honest, I didn’t advertise. I said to the pupils, ‘I’m leaving the company, and if you want my name, it’s in the telephone book’. No cards, no nothing, so I wasn’t disobeying the rules, and then I, the first week I worked, I was earning three hundred pounds. First week. I had twelve pupils said they’d go with me, and I think eight went with me. Those eight snowballed. That was wonderful, I couldn’t believe it. A little bit of whether God was having a nice time with me, and I earned a living, and I did that right up until 1989 or something like that I worked, and then I, I became I retired.
CB: Amazing. Thank you.
[machine pause]
AC: But the -
CB: Alan, we’ve skated over a bit about when you got attacked from the air. So what circumstances did you know of, or get bombed?
AC: Well the circumstances, they dropped bombs in Highgate, I knew. They had a Messerschmitt 109 brought down near Highgate, and it was before we moved to Luton. Must have been in 1940, and we heard suddenly, it was at night time, it wasn’t a daylight one, and suddenly I heard a screaming. You couldn’t miss it, the screaming bomb, and I wondered where the hell it was, is it going to land on me, or was it going to land - it landed about, I would say, from where I’m living now, would have been about a fifteen minutes walk towards Temple Fortune.
CB: But then how close was it to you?
AC: Well, that was about fifteen or twenty minutes.
CB: When you were on the, in the war.
AC: In the war. Yeah.
CB: You heard it coming.
AC: I heard it coming. I wondered where it was going. I didn’t run under a table or nothing. I just heard – scree - and then it hit Hoop, between Hoop Lane, the top of Hoop Lane, and the Finchley Road.
CB: Right.
AC: So there’s the pinpoint.
CB: Yeah.
AC: And I think the house was demolished. Demolished completely. And shrapnel had hit the church. So, the shrapnel, if anybody wanted to go, I’d say look, these marks here, they’re shrapnel marks. So that’s the only thing I can say about this bomb, and never in my life, I’ve heard the noise on, when they’ve had it on the television. A screaming bomb. I never thought it would come near me.
CB: No.
AC: But then in Luton, when my father moved to Luton, he was bombed again on the Monday. He arrived on the Friday, and was bombed on the Monday, but it hadn’t put him out of business. It had just damaged a few windows, which they repaired. But he took his whole staff down there, and he bought a house and put them in.
CB: How many people did he employ?
AC: He employed about thirteen people, but he had to, he had to, to keep the factory going, and they stayed, and they came to Luton and, yeah, they lived, they had to live, I don’t know whether it was two to a bed, or three to a bed. It wasn’t easy. Some of them managed to find a friend or so and stay, but most of them lived -
CB: These were women workers, were they?
AC: And they had a few men, yeah. The blockers were the men. The one that did the blocking, you know.
CB: What’s that mean?
AC: The hats had to be put on blocks. Very hot. And it steams comes down. The shapes. They had them made. My father used to have the blocks made for his style of hat, and then they’d take it, and then it used to be on a machine.
Other: A press.
AC: A press, yeah. Steamed. He wouldn’t let me work there. Well, I’m pleased he didn’t, ‘cause he said it was no good to your health. I did everything else. He was worried about me there, and he didn’t let me work
CB: No. And in the RAF? What experience did you have of bombing there?
AC: Um, well, that was the only. Let me think of the bombing in the RAF. Oh yes, it’s in, when we went to Skegness, we were told that we mustn’t march, we must not be too close to one another, because they’d had a bomb in there. We were told that, but when I was there, there was no bombing at all, so I was lucky to that extent.
CB: Yeah.
AC: They had strafed the, and machine gunned the troops, so we were told we must scatter. We couldn’t keep, if we marching anywhere. We did do, what we did, one of the by things, and I was pretty good at it, we did what we call a sixteen mile march, but they didn’t tell us it was sixteen miles. They showed us, they showed us, they’re clever you know, they showed us this pylon, I could see and we’re going to march there. I thought, that’s nice. They didn’t tell us how we were going to get there. They didn’t go like that - they went -
CB: All the way around.
AC: All the way around and that was eight miles.
CB: Was it? Right.,
AC: Now a lot of the boys, they hadn’t been in the, they hadn’t joined the Air Training Corps, weren’t used to the boots, and they took their boots off after about five or six miles. I said, ‘Don’t take them off. You won’t put them on again’. They didn’t listen. They got charged. They had to be picked up by the ambulance, because they weren’t, they didn’t, I said to them, ‘Don’t take your boots off’. And I was used to playing in a band of a sort. I used to play the triangle in the Air Training Corps, and I could make a little tune up, and I kept them in, left and right, all in order. Now when we were marching, I put a cheeky little song on, you know, to cheer them up, and then march, and the corporal was happy. The sergeant was happy. They didn’t mind what I did, as long as they were, but the ones that didn’t listen to me, that took their boots off, were in real trouble.
CB: So that’s in the RAF. When did you join the ATC?
AC: Ah.
CB: And what did you do?
AC: I joined the ATC in 1941, which is on my thing there and I built myself up. I don’t know what rank I got there. I didn’t get to corporal. I think I got to, like towards the LAC, but Mr Waller, who was the commanding officer there, one of the office, one of the main officers was a Mr Waller, and Mr Waller used to buy hats from my father. Yeah. And my father tried to tell him not to let me get in the, in to any fighting or anything.
CB: No.
AC: But I said to Mr Waller, ‘whatever my father told you, forget it for goodness sake’. He thought, you know, I’ll give you the hats at a special price if you do. It was a little bit of that, but I wasn’t pleased with that.
CB: Right, no. So, finally, what about when you were in civilian life?
AC: Yes.
CB: And you joined Associations. What did you join?
AC: Well, the first one I joined automatically, was the Royal Air Force Association. I never even thought about the Bomber Command, until I met a friend who was in Bomber Command. I thought, he said, ‘Alan, you were in a bomber station’. I said, ‘Yes’. He said, ‘Well, why don’t you join Bomber Command?’ Then I joined Bomber Command.
CB: Right. Association.
AC: Association, ‘cause I thought that’s really what I was.
CB: Yes.
AC: And he’s died now, but he was one of the clan. He was an, he was, he went on bombing raids, which I appreciated. I didn’t. I went up flying. I’ve been up flying. I told you. I’ll tell you I went up in a Whitley.
CB: Oh, right.
AC: I called it, we called it the flying coffin, ‘cause it was so slow, that a German could even put the gun up and find out, if it was over there, he’d be ready to shoot it when it got to there. I don’t know if you’ve heard of the, you’ve heard of the -
CB: So, what did you do on the Whitley?
AC: The Whitley I was taken, I don’t know, I was taken somewhere.
CB: Yeah.
AC: I wasn’t on a, it wasn’t a joy trip. I did a joy trip when I was in the Air Training Corps. I did the, I hiked a ride on a Tiger Moth. Where they did the loop the loop. I wasn’t to know he was going to do the loop the loop. We all went on, you know, we went on from our station in Luton.
CB: Yes.
AC: To, I’ve forgotten the name. It’s in Oxfordshire. Some airport, and we had to hitch a ride, so I called, I saw this officer walking, and I said, ‘Excuse me sir, can I have a lift?’ ‘Yes you can’. He says, ‘Go and get your parachute’. So I get my parachute, come back. In this Tiger Moth, I didn’t know what he was going to do. All of a sudden, I was tied in, all of a sudden, he does this loop the loop, and the pressure on my neck. He could, he could have warned me.
CB: Yeah.
AC: He didn’t. But at least they said, when I came down, ‘Was that you up there, Alan’. I said, ‘Yes, it was’. ‘Oh, you lucky sod’, you know.
CB: Right. I’m going to stop there.
AC: Yeah.
CB: Thank you very much, Alan.
Dublin Core
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Title
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Interview with Allan Stanley Coller
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Chris Brockbank
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2016-08-03
Type
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Sound
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ACollerAS160803
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Pending review
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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.
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
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02:03:54 audio recording
Description
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Alan Coller joined the Air Training Corp in 1941 and eventually joined the Royal Air Force in 1943 at the age of 18. He was sent to RAF Skegness for his initial training, after that he was transferred to RAF Barnham, near Mildenhall where he was assigned to work with ordinance.
Alan worked with mustard gas canisters, checking them for leaks, loading ammunition for machine guns, and looking after bombs of all sizes, He explains in more details how they were stored, where and how they were transported.
He tells of his experiences working at RAF Barnham, including incidents on site because of his Jewish heritage, and being called back from leave before going to RAF Skellingthorpe.
Alan was sent abroad on the RMS Cynthia, sailing to India before an onward journey to Ceylon. He tells of his experiences on board ship, including being put under arrest and meeting his cousin.
He was demobbed in January 1947, and in civilian life got a job with J Lyons and Company, working in the Marble Arch Hotel. He tells of his encounter with Oswald Mosely and holidaying in Denmark, where he met his wife.
After the war, Alan got a job with Polly Peck, becoming a salesman for the Company working in Denmark, Norway and Sweden.
Contributor
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Vivienne Tincombe
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Suffolk
England--Lincolnshire
Sri Lanka
Sri Lanka--Ratmalana
Denmark
Norway
Sweden
India
animal
anti-Semitism
faith
military discipline
RAF Skegness
RAF Skellingthorpe
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/495/17729/MCollerAS1874018-170424-030001.1.jpg
9acb7cd4d2fffa5783d67c463763d8f6
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/495/17729/MCollerAS1874018-170424-030002.1.jpg
6c02c35d4408f9d578932e21612f1803
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
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Coller, Allan Stanley
A S Coller
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
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Coller, AS
Description
An account of the resource
17 items. An oral history interview with Allan Coller (1924, 1874018 Royal Air Force). Also a number of other items associated with the Air Cadets and his service in Sri Lanka and India including a scrapbook of photographs.
The collection has been licenced to the IBCC Digital Archive by Allan Coller and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
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Title
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Fountain Cafe Menu
Description
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A menu for a Cafe in Colombo, Ceylon
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Fountain Cafe
Format
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One double sided printed sheet
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Identifier
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OCollerAS1874018-1600803-01
Coverage
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Civilian
Spatial Coverage
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Sri Lanka--Colombo
Sri Lanka
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
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/501/22592/MCurnockRM1815605-171114-021.2.pdf
0b8bc57160c8e208e9ed946757257721
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
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Curnock, Richard
Richard Murdock Curnock
R M Curnock
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
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Curnock, RM
Date
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2016-04-18
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.
Description
An account of the resource
92 items. An oral history interview with Warrant Officer Richard Curnock (1924, 1915605 Royal Air Force), his log book, letters, photographs and prisoner of war magazines. He flew operations with 425 Squadron before being shot down and becoming a prisoner of war.
The collection has been licenced to the IBCC Digital Archive by Richard Curnock and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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THE
Prisoner of War
[Symbol] THE OFFICIAL JOURNAL OF THE PRISONERS OF WAR DEPARTMENT OF THE RED CROSS AND ST. JOHN WAR ORGANISATION, ST. JAMES’S PALACE, LONDON, S.W.1 [symbol]
VOL. 4. No. 37. Free to Next of Kin MAY, 1945
The Editor Writes –
IT is just three years since on May 1st, 1942 we launched the first number of The Prisoner of War. For most of our readers three long years of strain and toil, of hopes and anxieties. “It is hard,” wrote Her Majesty the Queen in a message printed in our first issue, “for those who wait at home to go cheerfully about their daily tasks in the knowledge that someone dear to them is in exile and a prisoner.” But their long ordeal is coming to an end, as I write, and indeed for many thousands has already ended. By the time these lines are printed it may well be that all our men in Germany will once again be free.
A Host of Friends
This journal will still appear for a few months so long as there is any useful information to give to ex-prisoners of war and their next-of-kin, but, happily, it will no longer contain news of what is happening in the Stalags and Oflags, for they, I hope, will have become a very bad dream that is now over. From the first I have looked forward to the day when the journal in this form would no longer be needed.
But there is sadness in the thought that I shall be saying good-bye to a host of good friends, personally unknown to me, but brought very close by means of correspondence.
[Photograph of a large group of cheering men] Wild scenes of excitement at Stalag 357 as the camp is liberated.
So Many Letters
Never, I am sure, has a journal been so eagerly looked for each month by so many readers. Never has an editor received so many thousands of grateful letters as have reached my colleagues and myself month after month from relatives who were cheered and comforted by the scraps of news we were able to give them, heartened by the knowledge of what the Red Cross and St. John War Organisation was able to do for their men, but, above all, brought closer to their dear ones by the intimate revelations of what other prisoners were doing and thinking.
Fare You Well!
To all our readers and their men with whom they are once more united, I would say: “Thank you for your gratitude and your confidence. I wish you a full life and every happiness.” But in the general rejoicing, let us not forget the relatives of those who will not come back, and especially of those (few in number we believe) who in the last weeks of the war were marched out of the camps to death by hunger or exhaustion. Our hearts go out to them.
News Without Delay
Events are moving so rapidly in these great days of victory that the news of recent developments grows stale from hour to hour. The latest news of the camps is given on another page. The Secretary of State for War announced on May 1st that 43,000 prisoners had reached this country from North West Europe. A further 3,436 had been evacuated from Odessa. Many others have doubtless been liberated by the Red Army in the neighbourhood of Berlin and Dresden and by the American Armies on their way to Munich and the Austrian frontier.
Sir James Grigg undertook to give out immediately any information, and next of kin may rest assured that they will be notified without delay of any definite news of their men.
Transfers Cease
The German Government has stated through the Protecting Power that all transfers of prisoners have ceased in areas under German control. The prisoners have been collected, as far as possible, in large Stalags, and the German Government has
[Page break]
2 The Prisoner of War MAY, 1945
asked the I.R.C.C. and the Protecting Power to send representatives to these camps. When the German military authorities withdraw, these representatives will remain in charge of the camps until the Allies arrive.
The “Master” Race
The unspeakable atrocities perpetrated at the concentration camps are a revelation of the depths of vileness to which Germans have been brought by leaders who invoked their pagan instincts and barbaric lusts. The victims of these sub-human torturers and murderers were almost entirely Germans. Poles, Jews, and other Europeans enslaved by the “Master Race.” Ordinary prisoner-of-war camps were not exposed to any similar system of torture.
450 Miles Winter March
The treatment of prisoners of war who were moved from camps in Silesia when the Russians approached is evidence, however, of the generally callous cruelty of the German to those in his power. They were marched for 450 miles in the depths of winter. The Germans had prevented them from making any preparations for the move, and failed to make adequate provisions for food and accommodation or for those who fell ill on the way. They were visited on the march by a representative of the Protecting Power, and a protest was made. The Secretary of State for War, answering questions on this matter, added that the Germans were becoming more and more incapable of looking after things in their own country, and he feared a good deal of hardship was inevitable. Some camps were grossly overcrowded by incoming prisoners from the East.
“The LatestReprisal”
A petty example of German vindictiveness has come in a report from Oflag VIIB and Stalag 357 (now captured), where the British prisoners were deprived of their mattresses, palliasses and most of their furniture ostensibly as reprisals for the ill-treatment of German prisoners in Egypt. The allegations, says Sir James Grigg, were entirely without foundation. An apt comment reached me from a prisoner in Oflag VIIB: “Just in case you should get hold of a garbled version of the latest reprisal, … our mattresses and 90 per cent of our tables and chairs were taken away. As you may imagine, we have improvised and everybody seems quite comfortable.”
[Boxed] NEW ADDRESS
If you have moved, do not forget to notify the Navy, Army, or R.A.F. authorities as well as the Red Cross of the address of your new home. It is MOST IMPORTANT that official news should reach you without delay. [/boxed]
REPATRIATION ARRANGEMENTS
By Major-General Sir Richard Howard-Vyse, K.C.M.G., D.S.O.
(Chairman of the Prisoners of War Department)
THE repatriation of British Commonwealth prisoners of war on the Western Front is the responsibility of SHAEF in conjunction with the War Office; we have been in close consultation with both authorities. The continued resistance of the enemy has necessitated certain modifications in the original plans, Instead of the great majority of the prisoners being freed at the moment of the signing of an armistice, and while still in their original camps, they are now being recovered by degrees. Some, mostly the sick, are found in camps and hospitals, some have escaped and reached the allied lines, but most of them are apparently being overtaken while on the march. This makes it easier as regards the numbers to be dealt with at any one time, but much more difficult from the point of view of making definite plans beforehand.
Strictly speaking, a freed prisoner of war, unless he is sick or wounded, is no longer a concern of the Red Cross; but it is unthinkable that we should immediately lose all interest in him. We have therefore prepared, in numbers sufficient to supply every man, gift bags containing a razor and other toilet requisites, chocolate, cigarettes and a message of welcome. The message is from all the Dominion and Indian Red Cross Societies, and not only from the War Organisations. Many, but not all, the ex-prisoners will need other articles such as pullovers, pyjamas and socks, and these also we are providing on a liberal scale, as well as invalid diet and medical supplies. To assist in the distribution of these articles, to give as much information as possible to the men, while they await transport to this country, and to co-operate with the Army Welfare officials, we have enrolled a number of our own representatives.
Helping in North-West Europe
These plans have already been put into operation at Odessa, and, in order to complete the arrangements for North West Europe, not long ago I paid a visit to SHAEF. As the result, 40,000 gift bags with the necessary proportion of other supplies have already left this country, and another 60,000 are on order to go. Eight representatives have also left. The British Commonwealth character of this service is emphasised by the fact that these eight representatives include 3 British (one of whom has knowledge of Indian), 2 Australian and 1 each Canadian, South African and New Zealander. These have all gone to the zone of one particular Army Group and will be called forward to P.o.W. Assembly Camps as and when required. Similar arrangements will have been put into operation in other zones before these words appear in print.
We are, of course, extremely anxious that our Gift Bags, and especially the Message of Welcome, should reach ex-prisoners of war at the earliest possible moment; and I am sure that SHAEF and the various Army authorities concerned will give us every help in this. But some men are sure to miss them, and stocks of Gift Bags are therefore being sent to a port of embarkation in N.W. Europe, and to all counties in this country where Reception Camps are being established. It will therefore be very bad luck if every man does not, at some stage or another, receive our gift. The speed with which repatriation is at present being carried out may make it impossible to issue the more bulky articles such as pullovers. We provided these originally in anticipation of a fairly long wait at staging or transit camps overseas, and no one is likely to grumble if this does not materialise.
Reception Camp Welcome
War Organisation representatives are also present at the Reception Camps in this country and are ready, in co-operation with Army Welfare, to welcome and help all repatriates. In particular, I hope they will be used to make arrangements for those who wish to be met on their arrival at their home station. Here again, I would emphasise that the speed with which men are being passed through the various stages of repatriation, though admirable in every other respect, inevitably results in administrative difficulties for the Red Cross.
Reunion
This brings us to the longed-for time of reunion, an event so intimate and so sacred that is seems inappropriate to intrude upon it, even in print. We think, however, that most next of kin will be glad to have advice on the very important question of diet, and with the kind help of the Ministry of Food we are drawing up some hints which we shall be circulating to all next of kin of repatriated prisoners.
As regards the many other problems which may arise, we have also prepared some notes, which we have communicated to Joint Committees and Prisoner of War Representatives in all counties, who are therefore in a position to give advice where it is needed.
N.B. – This article has of necessity been written in the second week of April and much of it therefore may be out of date by the time it appears in print.
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MAY, 1945 The Prisoner of War 3
Liberation Comes to Stalag IXA
Described by SGT. THERON, of the 1st R.L.I., Union Defence Force, South Africa, who was captured at Tobruk
[Photograph of a large group of men in uniform, cooking outside] Oflag 79 is liberated, and British Ex-p.o.w.s cook their first meal in freedom.
THERE had been no Red Cross food parcels since the arrival of the British p.o.w.s from Silesia; all of them had walked the gruelling 500 miles and most were in a state of utter physical exhaustion. But the German radio announced on the 2nd April, that the American 3rd Army had penetrated deeply over the Rhine at Frankfurt; and hopes and morale soared. The pet phrase in the British compound was the “Three P’s” – Patten, Parcels or Peace! Rumours were rife, but at least hunger was replaced by the excitement of imminent liberation.
Then came the blow. On Wednesday, the 4th April, at 4 p.m., all senior men were sent for by the German Commandant and told that on Thursday all fit men would move out on foot. The news hit us all very hard, as most of the lads had just completed a previous “hike,” and had barely recovered from its effects.
Mass sick-parades were held; and the ruling of the Senior British Medical Officer was that those who could manage to walk should do so in order to protect the really crippled and weak. The Germans had threatened to force everybody out, and such action would have meant certain disaster to many. We were in three categories – the walking fit; the not-so-sick who were to be transported; and the serious cases who were to remain in Stalag hospitals.
Those Who Remained
At 8 a.m. on Thursday the 5th April, the marching columns left, and we who remained watched their straggling line disappear into the trees about a mile from the camp. Along the road leading past Stalag IXA there were evident signs of German withdrawals – on foot, by cart and horse, and in trucks hundreds of Germans were streaming back from the front.
In the valley our fighters straffed incessantly. We were told that all men in camp would remain indefinitely but we couldn’t believe that the Germans would allow us to be retaken so simply. It was apparent by 3 o’clock that only a very skeleton guard would remain. Volunteers from among the guards were called for, and eventually at 5 p.m. all who remained were three officers and 26 other ranks. Their attitude was one of complete resignation – the camp was virtually ours.
All afternoon and during the nigh the battle-sounds came closer, and very few men slept that night. The whole camp seemed tense and uncannily quiet. Friday dawned sunny and clear – except for a distant rumble all was quiet. The morning dragged to 11 a.m., and still no sign of Allied tanks. Spotters reported German tanks on the hill behind the camp and we feared a battle might develop in our vicinity. Everybody was ordered to get into barracks and remain quiet. At 11.15 a.m. the German Acting-Camp Commandant formally handed the keys of the camp to our senior officer.
[Photograph of a large group of cheery men behind barbed wire gates] The gates of Stalag XIB open to release the British captives within.
At a few minutes after midday a line of tanks was spotted coming towards us from the east. We could scarcely breathe. I grabbed a pair of binoculars from a German officer and in the tense excitement could only see a blur! German or ours? It meant so much. The Germans knew, however, and fell in neatly, ready to hand over to the first American soldier. All this while the camp was quite deserted and incredibly quiet. A shot passed overhead, and shortly afterwards at exactly 12.30 p.m. the first Sherman reached the gates.
At Last!
The p.o.w.s were held in check until the Germans were disarmed, and then as the main American convoy moved up pandemonium broke loose.
Singing, yelling, cheering , prisoners mobbed the liberators – everybody was shaking hands with everybody else. Incoherent babbling and tears were frequent signs of a relived gladness that is beyond description. All that day Americans poured past, and the starved and smokeless p.o.w.s had armfuls of cigarettes and “C Rations” handed to them. It was a great day.
The next morning truckloads of chocolate, cigarettes and chewing gum rolled into camp. The Yanks were incredibly kind to us and only asked that we re-
(Continued on page 11)
[Pager break]
4 The Prisoner of War MAY, 1945
PRIVATE D.W. GARDNER, liberated by the Russians, from Stalag XXB and now home again was prominent in his camp in helping to produce shows. In this article he takes us –
BEHIND THE SCENES
[Two photographs of actors in stage shows] These two shows produced at Stalag XXA, Sinbad the Sailor, (Above) and The Wind and the Rain (Right) show the ingenious costumes that can be produced in a prison camp.
YOU have probably all had letters at one time or another from your friends or relations who are P.o.W.s, with the phrase, “We had a jolly good show last night,” or “We had a dance last night,” with perhaps more details. What lies behind these phrases?
Way back in 1940 about two hundred tired and rather dirty P.o.W.s arrived at Stalag XXA, in Thorn, Poland. After finding somewhere to sleep, someone came into the barrack saying, “There’s a show on in such-and-such a barrack in half an hour.” A show? What kind of a show? Let’s go and have a look.
Several hundred men crowded into a sleeping barrack, facing a “stage” made out of table-tops. There they listened to a mouth-organ band with a drummer. Oh, yes, there was a drummer complete with different-sized jam tins is place of drums. Interspersed with monologues, the band played for about an hour, bringing memories and forgetfulness to the weary audience.
The first show was born, and it was the same in every camp. The Germans were amazed at the enthusiasm shown by the men to “dress up” and amuse themselves.
Time passed; Red Cross parcels began to arrive. With the main worry removed, the shows became more elaborate.
Money began to come into the camps from the men who were working. Permission was given to buy instruments. A violin was followed by a piano, then came accordions, trumpets and saxophones, through the Red Cross; until at last dance bands, quintets and even military bands came almost to perfection.
The idea of a “show,” in those days, was to have the band on the stage; then it would come off for periods to let the concert party give short sketches or perhaps a monologue or song. The whole show was held together by a compère.
This type of show was rather unwieldy and depended too much on the compère. Producers became more ambitious and split in two directions. One concentrated on straight shows, such as “Journey’s End,” “Dover Road,” and “Dr. Clitterhouse,” the other on musical comedies.
The musical comedies were usually more popular, but were well balanced by the drama. Many men found themselves talent to write these shows, usually “two and a half hours of music and mirth,” to quote posters.
These shows brought out the amazing ingenuity of the average P.o.W. Take almost any show based on a civvy street film. The producer asks for a Chinese costume, a girl’s evening dress and sailor’s costume amongst others. The Chinese costumes are made out of dyed pyjamas with dyed Eastern decorations. Sailor’s costumes – Air Force trousers, a blue roll-neck sweater with cardboard anchor stitched on, and a paper hat completes the dress. Ladies’ evening dress – a sheet cut and stitched to shape, decorations by coloured paper stitched round hems and neck or on the skirt.
There were a thousand and one “tricks” – wigs and moustaches made from Red Cross string, 18th-century dress, hoop skirts made with wire and crêpe paper, cardboard evening dress collars, paper ties, paper umbrellas, suit of armour from empty tins straightened and “sewn” with wire, blouse from a shirt trimmed with crêpe paper.
These large shows were limited to large camps, but even the smallest camps arranged some sort of show. Perhaps they had a band – an accordion and a drum, or a mouth-organ and a guitar; and they had their little “jam-session” with everyone singing or learning to dance.
Many will look back on those long years with memories of their “first appearance” and the knowledge that they tried to, and did, break the monotony.
[Picture of a dance band with a singer] A “turn” with the dance band at B.A.B. 20.
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MAY, 1945 The Prisoner of War 5
BARBED-WIRE UNIVERSITIES
[RAF Crest] The story of study at Stalag Luft VI is told in illuminated book* [University crest]
[Boxed] FOREWORD
BY TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THE FACILITIES offered through the channels of the Red Cross Society it has been possible to establish in a Prisoner of War Camp this Education Organisation, an outline of which is given in the following pages.
To convert this period of enforced military inactivity into one of further training is our final aim. The principal value of the scheme however lies in its power to provide a distraction from Boredom and an antidote to Mental Stagnation.”
E. Alderton. [/boxed] This is the Foreword of the book, reproduced in facsimile.
“THE moments we forego, eternity itself cannot retrieve,” run the words of an old proverb. Mindful of this ancient truth, N.C.O.s of the Royal Air Force, imprisoned in Stalag Luft VI (later 357). Formed a study circle in preparation for taking examinations and so qualifying themselves for post-war appointments.
The venture became known as the Barbed-Wire University.
The British Red Cross and St. John War Organisation sent books and materials and arranged for the despatch and handling of examination papers; no mean undertaking when the courses on the “University’s” curriculum included as many as 84 different subjects.
The men behind the wire produced an illuminated prospectus, which told how: “This unique school was formed to provide educational facilities for flying personnel interned in Germany. The aim of the school is to expel boredom and mental stagnation by providing educational courses which can be profitably put to use in post-war life.”
Their Majesties’ Good Wishes
Lord Clarendon showed Their Majesties the original manuscript, and later a copy of the prospectus was sent to Buckingham Palace. Its receipt there was acknowledged by Lady Katherine Seymour, Lady-in-Waiting, who wrote: “The King and Queen have seen the illuminated book from Stalag Luft VI N.C.O.’s Education Committee. Their Majesties are both deeply impressed by the beautiful workmanship which has been put into the book, and by the splendid courageous spirit with which it has been completed. I am to say that the Queen hopes the booklet will meet with every success.”
The book did meet with great success, 10,000 copies were printed and sold in the United Kingdom. The illuminated prospectus has been reprinted in colour and is now on sale, price 2s., at bookshops and bookstalls.
Studying Under Difficulties
Study and examinations were carried out under incredibly difficult conditions. Five times the “Barbed Wire University” was moved to a different locality; and each move meant a loss of books and a fresh search for suitable accommodation at a new camp.
The Germans allowed no artificial lighting in prisoner of war camps until after 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and as the men had to sit for their examinations between 2 p.m. and 5 p.m., this ruling caused considerable inconvenience. The rooms where they worked were unheated, and frequently the temperature there dropped below freezing point. Sometimes there were no tables or chairs, and Red Cross packing cases were utilised as furniture.
In Other Camps
Stalag Luft VI has not, however, been unique in its experiences. Almost every university in other P.o.W. camps has had to contend with similar difficulties. At Oflag VIIB the university, which was formed in 1940, was the first of its kind. It had 17 different faculties and a library of 50,000 books. The officers sat for their examinations in a storeroom because it was the quietest place. During one examination a bag of pepper in the store burst unexpectedly; somebody kicked a football accidentally through the window, and as a crowning disturbance pipers held a bagpipe practice in the immediate vicinity.
The illumination in the room used for study at Luft VI came from “fat lamps.” These ingenious little lights were made with margarine saved from the candidates’ rations, or bought with precious cigarettes from the ration of a friend, and old suspenders used as wicks.
Improvising at Stalag IVB, blackboard chalk was concocted from a mixture of toothpaste and plaster of paris baked in an oven.
Equestrian Ingenuity
Men at Stalag 383 wishing to learn horsemanship formed an Equestrian Society and built a dummy horse from an old wooden barrel. Occasionally the German guards were persuaded to loan the society a live cart-horse.
By March 24th this year no less than 16,122 applications to take examinations had been received from British P.o.W.s in Germany.
Over long years of captivity men whose minds might have become stagnant in thought and warped in outlook through enforced idleness, have learnt by their attendance at barbed-wire universities and stalag schools to conquer boredom and fit themselves for post-war work.
LIBRARIES FOR EMPIRE REPATRIATES
SEVEN camp libraries are being given by the War Organisation of the British Red Cross and Order of St. John to reception centres in this country for repatriated prisoners of war of the Dominion Forces. The books are of a type that ate scarce to-day, but are in great demand. They will include volumes of standard works on travel, biography, arts, science, classics, etc. Books on British country life are particularly popular.
The centres are already well supplied with fiction from their own Dominions.
BOOKS FOR THE VOYAGE
Twenty-four bales of books and magazines have been sent to Odessa by the British Red Cross and St. John Hospital Library Headquarters to provide reading matter for repatriated prisoners during their voyage home.
* THE ROYAL AIR FORCE SCHOOL FOR PRISONERS OF WAR, STALAG LUFT VI, obtainable from bookshops and bookstalls, price 2/-. The trade distributors are:- Messrs. Simpkin Marshall (1941), Ltd., 12, Old Bailey, London, E.C.4. All profits on the sale of the book will go to the Red Cross and St. John Fund for prisoners of war.
[Page break]
6 The Prisoner of War MAY, 1945
FIRST TASTE OF FREEDOM
BRITISH AND AMERICAN PRISONERS OF WAR LIBERATED BY THE RUSSIAN ARMY PASS THROUGH ISTANBUL IN CHEERFUL MOOD ON THEIR WAY HOME FROM ODESSA
[Photograph of a ship at sea]
[Photograph of a man in a uniform coat] A pilot officer in board keeps warm in Russian fur cap and greatcoat.
[Photograph of a group of men on a ship] THUMBS UP expresses the high spirits of the liberated prisoners of war.
Welcome at Brussels
Reprinted by courtesy of The Times
From The Times Special Correspondent
THERE can have been few episodes more touching in the wartime experience of the Belgian capital than the daily arrival last week of prisoners of war, mostly British, released by the allied armies in Germany, and the manner in which they have been welcomed, refreshed and given a new start on their way to England.
They came by hundreds – on several days more than 1,000 were registered – and the stream still flows in. To deal with them, all concerned, from Military Headquarters “A” Branch (whose business, primarily, it is) to the Belgian voluntary welfare workers and Belgian boy scouts, have worked all day and half the night. Prominent as always in service of this kind has been the British Red Cross and St. John War Organisation, which concentrated on assisting the liberated prisoners as soon as the first batch reached Brussels last Tuesday. These came from the advanced collecting centres in transport aircraft which, after landing them at the Brussels airport, filled up with supplies and took off again for the front.
Mingled Joy and Sadness
The men arrived at the Red Cross offices in the Rue de la Loi just as they had left their prison camps, and the spectacle was one of mingled joy and sadness for those who saw them – joy in their new freedom and return to friends, but sadness at the drawn, weakly, subdued look of so many. They told of marches for weeks on end, between camps in Germany, since the beginning of the year, with barely enough food to keep life in them. While on the move they were deprived of the Red Cross parcels without which, in the established Stalags, they would have died. Besides those brought in by air, a multitude arrived by other kinds of transport, including bicycles, or on foot. Tree men came on a German fire engine which, they said, they had driven all the way from Hanover.
Every man was given a linen bag containing toilet articles, pyjamas and underwear, writing and smoking materials, handkerchiefs, and a card with the message “best wishes for a happy return home,” from the Red Cross organisation of the Empire. Many tired eyed lighted up at the sight of the handkerchiefs. Most men wanted first to put into words their gratitude to the Red Cross for all that its care had meant to them in their captivity, and many were in tears as they did so. Several hostels had been quickly got ready and meals with every sort of delicacy that the men’s state of health permitted or demanded were provided by Naafi.
The men who came in by road all spoke of the wholehearted help that they had received from the troops, British and American, all the way down the line, including the sharing of their rations. They leave Brussels in better heart, cheered and comforted by the efforts of many different people with a common bond of practical sympathy.
BRUSSELS, April 23.
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MAY, 1945 The Prisoner of War 7
The came home via Russia
[Photograph of ranks of men in warm clothing and uniforms] Allied prisoners freed by Soviet troops marching towards Odessa.
By courtesy of Pictorial Press.
IN an Army Reception Camp on the green slopes of a Buckinghamshire wood, 590 liberated prisoners of war, back from Odessa, spent Easter Sunday in England – for many it was the first in five years. They were on their way home on 42 days’ leave – with full pay and double rations. No doubt every man agreed heartily with the Camp Commandant’s policy of seeing them through the last formalities with the utmost speed and efficiency,
The atmosphere of the camp is informal and friendly and discipline is kept to a minimum. Soon after arrival the ex-prisoners have a square meal. The follows form-filling concerning arrears of pay, kit, medal claims, and so forth. Each man receives an initial payment to cover immediate expenses. He has a thorough medical examination and visits the radiology department for an X-Ray. The Quartermaster completes the gaps in uniform and equipment. Naafi is there to provide cigarettes, chocolate and the ever-popular cup of tea.
Their Problems Solved
To the Welfare Office in the middle of the camp drift those with problems, large and small. Working side by side with the Army welfare officer is a representative of the British Red Cross and St. John War Organisation. The men are obviously reassured by the friendly sight of her uniform, and she in turn is touched by their overwhelming gratitude – not just for any help she is able to give to them in this office, but as the personification of what Red Cross has meant to them in prison camps.
A corporal in a parachute regiment enters the office diffidently. He is not sure whether his problem is in the welfare category. He is anxious to trace his wife, a corporal in the W.A.A.F. The latest address he has of a camp in the Midlands is several months old, and he fears she has been moved or even sent abroad. Within three minutes the Red Cross officer has put a call through to the camp, and in another three minutes the corporal is speaking to his W.A.A.F. wife, excitedly making arrangements for their reunion.
Many problems had arisen through the irregularity of mail in prisoner of war camps in Germany in recent months. Some men in outlying working detachments had received scarcely any letters since D-Day. They wished to verify the addresses of their wives and families. The Welfare Office checked changes of address caused sometimes by bombing, by telephoning directly to the local police.
Middle East Welcome
Personal contact with the Red Cross was, however, made before reaching England. Many repatriates spoke warmly of the magnificent reception accorded to them in the Middle East. Red Cross personnel boarded their ships at Port Said as soon as the ships had docked. Once ashore, meals and entertainment were arranged, and on the second day an impromptu dance was organised at very short notice. It was not known how many ex-prisoners would wish to go, but over 1,000 attended and the evening was an outstanding success. The ladies of the party consisted of 15 Red Cross and St. Johns welfare workers, some 30 Wrens and 45 British women residents. A cabaret show, an excellent band and plentiful refreshments were put on.
Many men told the Red Cross Middle East Commissioner that this party did more to restore them to normality than anything else that could have been planned for their entertainment. At the end of the evening O.C. Troops of one of the transports called for three cheers for the Red Cross, and 1,000 men roared their appreciation before singing “God Save The King.”
Their Adventures
Interrogation by the Army Intelligence Corps is a very important part of the machinery of a reception camp. Repatriates are eager to collaborate, hoping to help their less fortunate comrades.
Typical of the experience of many prisoners was that of Private Perkins, who went to India with the Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry in 1937. After service in Iraq, Palestine and Egypt, he was eventually captured at Tobruk, and after thirteen months in an Italian prison camp he arrived at Stalag VIIIB. He became one of a small working party at a benzine factory situated in a part of Germany which during the last weeks he was there had thirty visits from “our friends the Yanks … complete with their headaches,” as he described the raids.
Towards the end of 1944, the demeanour of the guards became noticeably gloomier, and by a contrary process, the spirits of the prisoners rose. Finally, on January 21st, the Germans evacuated the major part of the camp westwards, and Private Perkins in the outlying working party was “one of the lucky ones” who escaped.
With Polish and French ex-prisoners he hid in the woods for five days. They broke into a German magazine for food, sledges were hastily improvised, and piled high with tinned meat, sugar and coffee. The Russian army took this area in an encircling movement and the prisoners finally contacted the Russians 10 kilometres behind their lines.
Precious possessions collected for years in a prison camp had for the most part to be left behind. But in a few cases, P.o.W.s had clung tenaciously to some favourite object. One man was playing his guitar in the reception camp. It had been sent out to his prison camp by the Red Cross; he had learned to play it there, and managed to bring it all the way home. Another man had arrived in England complete with typewriter.
Private Baggott, captured in Crete and a P.o.W. for four years, worked in a grube (coal mine) attached to the same camp. When the Germans evacuated in a hurry he hid in the roof of the bathhouse and escaped detection. Red Cross parcels kept him going and later, according to a prearranged plan, he sheltered in a nearby Polish house. Many of his companions were hidden by the Poles in spite of frequent German searches.
When the Germans had finally left the village, the prisoners, who had been a week or more in hiding, declared themselves to the newly arrived Russians. After much hospitality and kindness, the P.o.W.s made their way to Cracow, Lublin, Warsaw and other cities to which they were directed by the Russian armies, until they were all gathered together at Odessa. And there, daily, more trainloads arrive, to be shipped via the Middle East, to a Buckinghamshire reception camp and then home. B.C.S.
[Page break]
8 The Prisoner of War MAY, 1945
Official [On next part of double page Reports from the Camps]
[Photograph of a group of men outside a large building] OFLAG VIIB. When this camp was visited in February general health was reported to be good.
Report on conditions during the forced march of British Prisoners of War from Stalag Luft III, Sagan and Stalag Luft VII, Bankau, to Stalag IIIA, Luckenwalde, due to the advance of the Russian armies.
STALAG LUFT VII, BANKAU
On 17 January the Camp Leader was told that the prisoners would have to be ready to evacuate on foot in an hour’s time.
On leaving, each prisoner was issued with 2 1/2 days’ marching rations. To start with no transport was provided for any sick who might fall out of the column, and the only medical equipment available was that which could be carried by the medical officer and three orderlies.
On reaching Karlsruhe, the prisoners were accommodated in an old brick factory, and two field kitchens were provided to cook for 1,550. When they left Karlsruhe, a small horse-drawn wagon was provided to transport the sick. Tribute was paid to the assistance, both moral and physical, to the accompanying British medical officer and the two padres.
At Schonfeld, some biscuits and a little coffee were issued. The column was marching again by 5 a.m. and reached Jenawitz, where they were issued with a modicum of fat meat and some pea soup.
On January 24 and 26 they rested. On January 29 they arrived at Peterwitz in an exhausted condition.
On February 1 they left Peterwitz and marched to Frausnitz, where they remained until February 5.
Before leaving they were issued with bread, margarine and meat. They marched to Goldberg, where they were put into cattle trucks – an average of 55 men to each truck. The train journey to Luckenwalde lasted three days; the men had no water on the train for two days.
As a result of this march and the deplorable conditions under which it was undertaken the morale of the men on arrival at Luckenwalde was extremely low. There were numerous cases of frost-bite, malnutrition, dysentery and other illness.
Prisoners of other nationalities also marched under much the same conditions and arrived at Luckenwalde in an exhausted condition.
STALAG LUFT III, SAGAN
On January 27, 1,000 prisoners from the East Compound were marched out of the camp. Each man collected one Red Cross parcel to carry with him.
The move was to be made on foot and no transport whatever was available for the march, which lasted eight days. No preliminary preparations were made by the detaining power, and the prisoners were forbidden to make any preparations in anticipation of the event. Small sledges manufactured by the prisoners out of Red Cross material were confiscated, and improvised ruck sacks and kit bags were forbidden.
No provision was made for the care of those who might fall sick on the march or for the carriage of their equipment, and throughout the whole journey the only transport available to the column consisted of two horse-drawn wagons which were reserved for the carriage of German equipment.
The march was made in stages of about 18 kilometres per day. On the way a number of men from Belaria and other Compounds joined the column, bringing the number to 1,415.
The daily rations throughout the march consisted of one half-loaf of bread per man and one issue of barley soup. The provision of water was entirely haphazard and on many days the only water available was such as could be begged or bought for cigarettes on the way.
The prisoners were kept for many hours in the open after a hard march in severe weather conditions until accommodation could be arranged, the only shelter provided on each occasion being roof cover.
The marching conditions of prisoners from other compounds of this camp were similar to the above.
STALAG IIIA, LUCKENNWALDE
This report deals solely with those prisoners of war who have been evacuated from other camps.
The layout of the camp is in no way changed. There are prisoners of many nationalities, each nationality being segregated. The British prisoners who recently arrived are also separated from those who were there before.
British officers from Stalag Luft III are in a compound known as “Oflag IIIA,” where there are 1,357 British and 461 American prisoners of war.
All the compounds are overcrowded. Triple-tier beds have been provided, but in many cases the wooden boards are lacking. About 100 men sleep on the floor.
In the Oflag these conditions are somewhat better, but even here some officers have to sleep on the floor.
All the barracks need repairs. Woodcutting parties bring wood daily to heat the barracks. There is a great shortage of eating utensils in all the quarters. Washing facilities are totally inadequate.
Medical officers are doing everything possible to help the sick, but they are very much hampered as there are practically no medicaments or drugs.
Most of the prisoners of war have only the clothing which they stand up in. There is no laundry and the prisoners are unable to wash their only sets of garments. Religious services are held regularly.
(Visited February, 1945.)
[Photograph of a large group of men outside] These men were still prisoners but hopefully awaiting liberation when this picture was taken at Stalag IVC.
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MAY, 1945 The Prisoner of War 9
Reports from the Camps
[Boxed] In every case where the conditions call for remedy, the Protecting Power makes representations to the detaining Power. Where there is any reason to doubt whether the Protecting Power has acted it is at once requested to do so. When it is reported that food or clothing is required, the necessary action is taken through the International Red Cross Committee. [/boxed]
[Photograph of actors on a stage above the orchestra in the pit below] THE SHOW AND THE ORCHESTRA. The professional touch characterises this scene at Stalag IVB.
At Other Camps –
HOSPITAL AT BILIN
This has always been a good hospital and at the time of the visit contained 42 British patients. Treatment is given by a German doctor and two Serbian assistants. Dental treatment is given by a French dentist. The British patients would appreciate the appointment of a British doctor to this lazaret.
(Visited January, 1945.)
HOSPITAL AT SANDBOSTEL
Five American and one British patient in this hospital have very high praise for two Serbian surgeons and the treatment they receive from the Germans. The hospital appears to be one of the best.
(Visited January, 1945.)
OFLAG VIIB, BEICHSTATT
There has been no change in the general layout of the camp since the last visit, except that two new huts are now nearly completed. At present there are 1,846 officer and other ranks, but more officers are expected, in which case facilities for bathing, washing, cooking, etc., will be inadequate. At present hot showers are available twice a month.
The scale of rations has recently been cut and is now the same as that of non-working German civilians and not that of German depot troops.
Four British medical officers are in charge of the camp hospital. The general health is reported to be still good. No improvement has been made in the lighting conditions, and the prisoners’ eyesight is suffering in consequence.
Mail has taken longer of late and many letters arriving by airmail were posted at dates varying between July and November. During January, the Germans gave orders that all prisoners of war should be deprived of their mattresses. Almost all tables, chairs and benches were removed, and all public rooms were closed, except the Catholic chapel. The excuse given for this was alleged bad conditions at a German prisoner of war camp in Egypt. Similar reprisals were put into force at Stalag 357. Strong protests have been made to the German authorities by His Majesty’s Government.
(Visited February, 1945.)
STALAG IVA, HOHNSTEIN
At the time of the visit there were 4,753 prisoners of war in the area of Stalag IVA. Most of these were distributed in 60 British Work Detachments. There has been no change in the general layout of the camp. At the time of the visit the stock of Red Cross parcels was very low. The medical officer stated that a fair supply of drugs was obtainable from the German authorities and that there was a supply of British drugs. He was allowed to visit work detachments in the immediate neighbourhood and stated that the co-operation of the German medical officers was the best he had experienced. It was unfortunate, however, that there was no British dentist in the whole Stalag. The clothing situation on the whole was fairly good, each prisoner of war having two complete outfits. There was one British chaplain at the camp and he was allowed to visit work detachments as often as he wished.
Work Detachments.– Five work detachments in the Hoyerswerda district were visited.
No. 502, Grube Brigitta.- There has been no change in this camp since the last visit. There were no military targets in the immediate vicinity and the camp was provided with covered slit trench air-raid shelters. The 140 British prisoners of war are employed on loading and unloading wagons or repairing rails for the Grube Brigitta. They work about ten hours a day and every second Sunday is free. The medical officer in charge gave a very good report on the infirmary where a new room is under construction.
No. 531, Grube Ostfeld.- This camp also has good covered air-raid shelters. 90 British prisoners of war are employed in workshops and on forestry. They work 7-10 hours daily and every third Sunday is free. Living quarters are not very attractive, but a new barrack is nearly finished and should bring about a change for the better. Twice a week a sick parade is held by a civilian doctor and serious cases are sent to the hospital at Konigswartha. The Y.M.C.A. chaplain pays visits from time to time.
No. 508, Grube Erika.- 293 British prisoners of war work on the mine railway. The nearest military targets are about three miles away from the camp and the men are able to seek protection in the slit air-raid trenches. Living accommodation is entirely satisfactory, as also are the heating and lighting facilities. The supply of drugs and medicaments was reported to be fairly good. A daily sick parade is held by two polish doctors and twice a week by a civilian doctor. Recreation facilities are well organised. This is reported to be a good camp.
No. 543, Grube Heye III.- There were no serious complaints from this camp, where 45 British prisoners of war are employed on railway and surface work in the mines. Good air-raid shelters are provided, although there are no military targets in the neighbourhood.
BAUTZEN DISTRICT
Five detachments were visited in this area.
At No. 1274.- 70 British prisoners of war are employed on timber work. The camp has recently been transferred to a new barrack and there have been considerable improvements. The prisoners of war are building air-raid shelters for themselves which are not yet finished.
At No. 1184, Kronprinz Kirschau,
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10 The Prisoner of War MAY, 1945
[Photograph of a team of eleven men] Football team at Stalag IVA. Most of the P.o.W.s in this camp were distributed among 60 work detachments when the camp was visited in January.
the camp strength has lately been increased to 97 British prisoners of war, who load and unload waggons. The prisoners of war have hot showers and washing facilities in the factory as there is no running water in the camp. There were no serious complaints. Mail from England is said to take about one month to arrive.
No. 1091 is situated in the small village of Neukirch. There are only 20 British prisoners of war, who work in a box factory. Saturday afternoons and Sundays are free.
At No. 1007, Loebau.- 204 British prisoners of war work in a sugar factory. During the sugar season only every third Sunday is free. The camp was slightly overcrowded, but at the end of the season at least 80 men would be transferred, when conditions again would be satisfactory.
There are no complaints from No. 953, Loebau.
Several camps were visited in the Dresden district. A new camp, No. 1325, has been opened at Radebeul. The prisoners of war live in two barracks in a small compound. They have covered air-raid shelters. There are no complaints.
Work Detachments Nos. 1308, 1311, 1320 contain American prisoners of war.
(Visited January, 1945.)
STALAG IVB, MUHLBERG
There were nearly 7,000 British prisoners of war and 3,000 Americans in the camp at the time of the visit. This has caused considerable overcrowding in the bungalows, where for some time two men shared one bunk and many prisoners of war slept on the floor, benches and tables. Bathing facilities are good, but their use is somewhat limited by the numbers in the camp.
Cooking for British and American prisoners of war is done in one kitchen, staffed by 52 British.
During the recent overcrowding, when several thousand American prisoners of war were in transit through the camp, there were several cases of contagious diseases, particularly diphtheria and malaria. Supplies of drugs and dressings have not been very good and the promised improvement by the Germans in this respect did not materialise. In the camp hospital there is also a shortage of drugs and dressings and surgical equipment. The dental station is in the care of British and American dental officers, and fillings and extractions are done satisfactorily. Stocks of materials are adequate and an average of two new dentures a week is permitted by the authorities. Clothing stocks have rapidly diminished owing to prisoners of war from the Western Front needing complete new outfits.
There are two Church of England, one Presbyterian and one Roman Catholic chaplains on duty and services are regularly held for all groups.
There is a new German commandant in charge of the camp, and satisfactory relations exist between the authorities and the British and American prisoners of war. Great difficulty, however, is experienced in obtaining any material improvements to the camp under present conditions.
(Visited February, 1945.)
STALAG IVC, WISTRITZ
At the time of the visit there were approximately 7,000 British prisoners of war and 80 Americans in the camp. Most of these were distributed in the 53 work detachments. The general conditions of all work detachments is fairly good. There is an American and a British camp leader. At the main camp the British staff is allowed to shelter in a cellar. Red Cross parcels are kept in a storeroom in the town. Two British prisoners of war work there all day long.
Work Detachment 22A, Brux.- This visit was made very soon after aerial attacks on targets in this vicinity on December 25th, when 9 British prisoners were killed and 18 wounded. Six barracks were completely destroyed and four others were damaged. Some of those which were destroyed were completely burned out, destroying a quantity of clothing and personal articles. In the event of air attacks, prisoners of war are allowed to leave the camp or go to a cellar about ten minutes’ walk away, where they can remain until the “all clear.” During the attack on December 25th those prisoners of war who were killed had remained in the camp. The barracks are being rebuilt and should be in use by the end of February. The 2,210 British prisoners of war at this camp work in nearby villages and in factories. For the majority working hours are from 7.30 until 5. Most of the men now have every other Sunday free.
The medical staff consists of one medical officer and eight orderlies. The general state of health of this camp is good, though there are a number of men who should be removed to a camp where the work is lighter.
Work Detachment No. 51, Brux.- The strength of this camp is 1,773 British prisoners of war. The majority of them work in the Columbus mine. So far there have been no casualties from air attack, but prisoners of war are allowed to go outside the camp during an alert or to the shelters in the compound. There were no complaints about material conditions.
Work Camp Tschausch III, Brux.- 659 British prisoners of war live in five huts and work in the Tschausch mine. The health of the men at the camp has so far been very satisfactory. There were no serious complaints. During air raids prisoners of war are allowed to use the covered slit trenches in the compound, but many prefer to go down the mines.
Work Camp No. 258, Niemes.- 57 British prisoners of war work here in a wood factory. There were no serious complaints from this camp. Covered air-raid trenches are available near the camp compound.
Work Camp 53A, Deutsch Pankraz.- 50 British prisoners of war are digging trenches for the laying of gas pipes. There were no complaints., A daily sick parade is held by a civilian doctor.
Work Detachments Dux III.- 32 British prisoners of war work at a porcelain factory. Living quarters are not at all good though treatment of the prisoners of war appears to be quite satisfactory. The question of quarters was discussed with the Stalag authorities.
Work Detachment 395A, Tscherzowitz II.- 62 British prisoners of war are lodged in an old inn. There are no military targets near the camp. This was reported to be a good camp.
Work Detachment No. 32, Wurzmes.- This is a new camp containing 109 British prisoners of war captured on the Western Front. The men live in buildings attached to an old coalmine consisting of a stone building in a small compound. There are no military targets near the camp. Washing and bathing facilities are satisfactory. Heating and lighting is in order. Medical attention in the camp is given by a British doctor.
(Visited January, 1945.)
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MAY, 1945 The Prisoner of War 11
Relief by Road and Rail
IMMEDIATELY conditions in Germany began to deteriorate, and transport became difficult, the British Red Cross and St. John War Organisation asked the International Red Cross in Geneva to do everything possible, and to spend whatever was necessary, to solve the urgent problem of supplying relief to British prisoners of war.
The prisoners had in many cases been moved from organised camps and were being sent far away to unknown destinations. These conditions made it impossible to get Red Cross parcels to the men in the usual way, and over a period of weeks practically nothing got through to those on the move.
Then in early March the I.R.C.C. was able to send about 500 tons of food and medical supplies across Switzerland to the small eastern frontier station of Buchs, where 50 German railway waggons arrived to collect them. On March 10th the consignment reached Moosburg, 30 miles north-east of Munich; and here P.o.W.s unloaded the waggons.
Moosburg was for a time used as a distributing centre from which parcels could be sent by lorry on to camps in South Germany, Austria and part of Northern Czechoslovakia. It has now been overrun by the Allies; alternative distributing centres have been set up at Ravensburg and Markt Pongau.
Further trainloads of supplies left during the last few weeks.
Lorry Convoys Tour Reich
Early in March, Canadian and American lorries were moved from Toulon to Geneva, and on March 7th the first “flying column” of 25 left Switzerland, via Constance, with 120 tons of food and medical supplies. The drivers were Swiss nationals accompanied by German guards.
At the frontier the convoy split up. Six trucks carrying petrol, oil, and some medical supplies crossed Germany to the port of Lubeck. Of the remaining 19 lorries, 18 reached the Carlsbad and Marienbad area, and the supplies they carried were distributed among 18,000 British and American prisoners, some of them at Prague and Eger. Stalag VIIB received the contents of the last lorry, which broke down en route.
After delivering their loads the empty lorries proceeded to the distributing depots. It was planned to run a shuttle service between Moosburg, Ravensburg, and Markt Pongau and outlying camps.
177 Tons of Food
Four special convoys, each consisting of 12 lorries, accompanied by a car or motor cycle to act as “scout,” left Switzerland between March 12th – 18th. These vehicles were driven by Canadian prisoners of war and between them carried about 177 tons of food, medical supplies, soap and boot-repairing material. They headed for Southern and Central Germany with the object of contacting the prisoners on the move.
Further convoys left Geneva on April 6th, 7th, and 8th bound for Leipzig and Torgau, and others left on April 13th, 14th and 15th for Central Germany.
To obtain the earliest possible information of the whereabouts of P.o.W.s in transit an I.R.C.C. delegate travelled a day ahead of the first convoy, whilst scout vehicles explored secondary roads, along which it was apparently the practice of the Germans to move prisoners on foot.
The provision of lorries, petrol, lubricants and spare parts is co-ordinated by S.H.A.E.F., and further lorries, in addition to those already in operation, are available with the I.R.C.C. for use as and when an opportunity arises.
The I.R.C.C. has been able to get some food supplies to prisoners on the march in Northern Germany, and in the area around Berlin, as well as to others further south.
[Boxed] UNITED NATIONS’ WARNING
THE Governments of the United Kingdom, the United States of America and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, on behalf of all the United Nations at war with Germany, hereby issue a solemn warning to all commandants and guards in charge of Allied prisoners of war, internees, or deported citizens of the United Nations in Germany and German-occupied territory and members of the Gestapo and all other persons of whatsoever service or rank in whose charge Allied prisoners of war, internees or deported citizens have been placed, whether in the battle zones, on the lines of communication or in rear areas.
Individually Responsible
They declare that they will hold all such persons, no less than the German High Command and the competent German military, naval and air authorities, individually responsible for the safety and welfare of all Allied prisoners of war, internees or deported citizens in their charge.
Any person guilty of maltreating or allowing any Allied prisoner of war, internee or deported citizen to be maltreated, whether in the battle zone, on the lines of communication, in a camp, hospital, prison or elsewhere, will be ruthlessly pursued and brought to punishment.
They give notice that they will regard this responsibility as binding in all circumstances and one which cannot be transferred to any other, authorities or individuals whatsoever.
W.S. Churchill.
H.S. Truman.
J.V. Stalin. [/boxed]
Liberation Comes to Stalag IXA
(Continued from page 3)
main in camp and under control. Camp foodstuffs were checked, guards appointed to prevent looting and uncontrolled movement. The camp offices became orderly rooms, and in a short time the p.o.w. cage settled down to wait until transport could be provided to take the men home.
German rations were considerably increased and augmented by the American “C” ration. The kitchen staff worked overtime. Men who had been on the borderline of starvation were filling up! We got fresh meat, too, through a Frenchman, Jean D., who came to the orderly room with a request to be allowed out of camp to collect five cows which were wandering around without an owner. (And this was in Germany where every egg was counted!) He got an official permit and an hour later the main gateways looked like a farmyard. Jean said, “Ze sheep zey do not want to leave ze cows.”
Our own details were sent to take over the bakeries, and all German military food-dumps were confiscated and brought into camp. At last the starved, hungry men seemed to brighten up physically – there was a great change.
A harassed American captain burst into the orderly room. Nearly 300 Hungarian women, ill-clad and exhausted, were marching up the road near the camp. Could we do anything to help?
When we found the women they were far from being hysterical or weepy, and marched courageously a further 8 miles to a small village where all were billeted in houses. Their guards had fled and they had had no food for two days. Can you imagine a British p.o.w. speaking German to a Pole, who could speak a little Hungarian? That was how we talked. These experiences formed only a part of all we saw in the days which followed.
Now we are free and safe, and it is almost too good to believe; but still we feel there is something missing. Our there in Germany are many of our comrades; maybe they are still marching. We hope and pray for their speedy release.
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12 The Prisoner of War MAY, 1945
How They Help Abroad
[Photograph of a large group of people watching five women on a race track] Red Cross and St. John girls in Rome act as “race horses” for a Derby held by British troops at Rest Camp 50.
A CONSTANT stream of generous gifts to the Duke of Gloucester’s Red Cross and St. John Fund for the work of maintaining vital services to prisoners of war is contributed by large organisations and individual subscribers in the Dominions, the Colonies and Allied and neutral countries throughout the world. It is only possible here to mention briefly some of the ways and means by which money has been raised abroad.
A mining town in Northern Rhodesia recently sent £250, a portion of which was the result of a concert given by the Nkana pupils of the Broken Hill Convent, one of whom has a father a prisoner of war in Germany. The sum of £11,012 from the total resulting from “Target Month” inaugurated by the Governor of Northern Rhodesia was set aside for the benefit of prisoners of war, while another £2,456 13s. 6d. came from the 1944 Rhodes Founders’ Special War Effort. From Ceylon has come a third donation of £100 given by the Columbo Rowing Club, members of which take a keen interest in the welfare of prisoners of war, and expressed the wish that this money should provide sports equipment.
Many donations have come from Persia, among them the sum of £1,000 from the wives of the British staff in the oilfields area; and a gift of £10 from New Zealand was inspired by the arrival from a friend in England of the guide to the Prisoners of War Exhibition which was held in London last May.
Portuguese friends in Loanda, Portuguese West Africa, sent a sum of nearly £600, which they asked might be devoted to a special gift for British prisoners of war, and £500 of it was used towards replacing the library at Stalag VIIIB, which had been destroyed by fire. The people of Kenya never fail to remember the needs of British and Dominion prisoners, and a large proportion of their gifts has been earmarked for parcels, one special appeal organised for those in the Far East resulting in £3,000 being remitted. In Nakuru a fête was organised by a small mixed community of Europeans, Africans and Asians, which realised £3,118 13s. 11d.
The performance of the operetta H.M.S. Pinafore and a sale of work for which the United Nations Junior Group in Cuba was responsible raised £250. From the Cyprus Soldiers’ Aid Society as a token of appreciation of the work of the Educational Books Section and the Indoor Recreations Section for Cypriot prisoners and internees £100 was received. £7, also from Cyprus, was given from the collection taken at the harvest festival service held for the patients and staff of a military hospital, while £100, to which the British, Indian and Arab communities had contributed, arrived from Addis Ababa.
A generous gesture in the form of £555 towards parcels for their less fortunate comrades in appreciation of the help rendered to them by the British Red Cross was made by prisoners of war who had escaped to Switzerland and were interned there.
The sympathy and understanding which prompts men serving overseas to send donations is demonstrated by the sum of £17 15s. for their fellows in captivity which was sent by a Free Church chaplain to “help your great work of bringing cheer and joy to those who are always in our thoughts,” and by men using a recreation hut in Iceland who have sent several donations from their collecting box.
An R.A.F. station in West Africa donated £260 3s., half the result of their “Charity Week,” of which one of the major attractions was a football match between representative R.A.F. and United Service teams.
The “swear box” of one Dominion regiment which had served its purpose as a fine receiver and had come to be regarded as a donation box, was taken overseas and was with the regiment during a bad incident in which some of the officers were left without clothing. Their predicament caused some swearing, which reminded them of the box, for which a search was made, and it was recovered, although the top had been cut off by a piece of shrapnel. The box was later presented to the Red Cross with a further donation.
An endeavour by No. 54 Sub-District (Bone), B.N.A.F., “to make Darkest Africa resemble Merrie England” with an old English fair on St. George’s Day was instrumental in raising £1,300. All the familiar attractions of the showground were there – swing-boats, coconut shies, hoopla, fortune-tellers, and even a maypole under the palm trees! “The British soldier, having bought a buttonhole from a flower girl (specially relieved from her duties at the nearest military hospital), was able to take his choice of travel on an old-fashioned railway, driven by a chimney-pot-hatted driver, in an old-fashioned carriage where a charming crinolined girl would ride with him, or – masterpiece of improvisation! – be lifted 50ft. from the ground on the end of a 20 ton crane and given a bird’s-eye view of the fair as the crane swung round.
A Light A.A. regiment which had a rest centre in Holland started a fund to entertain 70 children in the town on Holland’s Santa Claus Day. The response was so good that there was a surplus of £62 after the party was over, half of which was given for p.o.w.s.
The headquarters of the 165th Field Regiment, R.A., showed great enterprise in their special Red Cross Week, when they collected £617. The R.S.M. had to pay to inspect the men’s billets, the Signals Section suddenly charged a fee on all telephone calls, the Quartermaster added purchase tax to articles drawn from stores on a certain day, and the officers were charged a fee on entering the office.
Several men gave their rations, from which an Italian civilian made a cake for a competition, and another man produced and sold an illustrated magazine for the cause. One gunner sportingly volunteered to have his much-criticised moustache shave off by the higher bidder (all bids being forfeited), and this was done at a public gathering by the winner who had to hand over 35s.
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MAY, 1945 The Prisoner of War 13
[Cartoon] HE GOT ANOTHER LETTER SAYING “KEEP YOUR CHIN UP”
The Letters They Write Home
Show for People in England
Stalag 357. 4.10.44.
I WISH to bring to your notice the general outline of a scheme which, though not of an educational nature, I am sure will be of interest to you.
There have been several exhibitions in England appertaining to prisoner of war life but, to our knowledge, the Stalag Theatre has not as yet made its début. The entertainment side of prisoner of war life is extremely important and, indeed, essential to the well-being of any camp. Great progress has been made in this field, and it is felt that the history of the theatre will be of interest to people in England.
With this in mind the entertainments committee of Stalag Luft 6 have put before the Air Ministry proposals for the staging of a show on our return. It is hoped that the Royal Air Force will sponsor it and that the proceeds will go to the Red Cross Society.
Sir Richard Howard Vyse has been informed of the plans, and although we are awaiting a reply from the Air Ministry, the organisation of the show is being carried out in readiness.
Full details are not available, but if you can imagine the P.o.W. Exhibition at Clarence House being staged with a prisoner of war entertainment background, you will be able to realise what is being attempted – in short, prisoner of war life in all its aspects to be brought to the stage. This is one “post-war plan” in which we are the senders instead of the receivers.
Missed Train at Leipzig
Stalag IVF. 14.1.45.
I’VE been out three times this week, twice to the hospital (once for a funeral, unfortunately) and yesterday.
I visited two small camps a long way from here. We got there all right, but the return journey came to grief rather badly, as our first train was late and we missed our connection to Leipzig. The next train only went to a place about 15 miles from our destination, as we were deposited there at one o’clock in the morning, and set out on a two-hour walk to the next station in the hope of getting another train.
We succeeded in this, after waiting from 3.15 until 4.45 a.m., and we finally got to the camp at 7 o’clock this morning! The stars were glorious, and the frost was very hard, but the ice-bound road made going bad. Such expeditions certainly remove the monotony of life! My companion is always a German interpreter.
- From an Army Padre.
Can Manage at a Pinch
Stalag XVIIIA. 7.1.45.
I HAVE received three N.O.K. parcels and eight cigarette parcels from you, so far. Am sorry to say that parcels and letters are rather slow these days. We are hoping that this situation will not last for long, and anyway we can manage at a pinch. Received the snaps, and think they are grand.
I am studying English just now; one of my chief ambitions is to write a book when I get home. I am “chief cook-and-bottle-washer” of a combine of five men – two Australians, one Tasmanian, my pal from Birmingham and myself.
Will give you a tip or two on cooking when I get home. We are getting lots of snow, and it is a white, lovely world – to look at it; the mountains are a marvellous sight.
By Train Through Germany
Stalag IVD. 16.2.45.
It is some time since we have had any Red Cross parcels, and there does not seem to be much hope of any more. Still, the war must end some day!
This past week we have travelled
[Boxed] SEND US YOUR STORIES
The Editor will be glad to consider for publication brief first-hand stories of humorous incidents or of incidents illustrating the ingenuity, courage or high morale of British prisoners of war in prison camps or during repatriation and homecoming.
Any interesting action photographs (not groups or individual portraits) will also be welcome and will in due course be returned.
Address: Editor, “The Prisoner of War,” St. James’s Palace, London, S.W.1. [/boxed]
about 280 kilos. in all to and from work. I think I do more travelling in one week than I did in all my life before the war – that is by train. Be a P.o.W. and see the world, or at any rate some of it; joke, I don’t think!
Special Work on Railway
Stalag IVD. 4.2.45.
Thanks for letter dated 8/12/44, the first one since Christmas. It must be good to see the old streets lit up again.
We have still got bags of work on the railway. There’s more to do every day. We’ve been getting up at 3 o’clock and catching the train at 4 a.m.; returning to camp at about 8 or 9 at night, so you see we haven’t much spare time. I am thankful to have to-day off (Sunday).
No personal parcels or fags have arrived for me since before Christmas. Two Red Cross parcels between three for a fortnight.
We’ve been out on a special job, and it is a good thing we can get a sleep on the train.
I hope you have received some of my mail; ours is coming in dribs and drabs.
“Roll On the Boat”
IVF. 26.12.44.
WELL, it’s nearly over now, and it hasn’t been too bad.
We had a concert last night; I did the stage – a big boat cutting through the waves, and underneath “Roll on the Boat.” The show was good – two hours of it. My effort was cartooning to music.
Ten Days Solid Knitting
Oflag 79. 1.1.45.
I MADE everyone in my room a Christmas present of sorts. These included pillow cases, serviettes, ash trays, etc.
I also made, or rather knitted, a woollen blanket out of unpicked socks and old pullovers, which I raffled in this company for the Red Cross. I made £407. The blanket took ten days’ solid knitting.
Disgustingly Indolent
Stalag 383. 21.1.45.
PROSPECTS are brighter than they have been for some time just now, not only because of the news, but because two trucks of Red Cross Invalid parcels have arrived. We have been issued with one between three.
There is little news to tell you – but for skating in the morning and hibernating till the German lesson in the evening, my life at the moment is disgustingly indolent.
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14 The Prisoner of War MAY, 1945
Groups from the Camps[Photographs of groups of men] STALAG IVA, STALAG 383, MARLAG UND MILAG NORD, STALAG IVF, STALAG XIA, STALAG XVIIA, STALAG 398, OFLAG VA
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MAY, 1945 The Prisoner of War 15
REPATRIATES’ NEWS
Free Telegrams
REPATRIATED British prisoners of war from Germany immediately on reaching this country, whatever the hour of the day or night, will be able to send a free telegram to their home address in the United Kingdom announcing their safe arrival. This facility is being granted by the General Post Office.
Repatriates’ Rations
It has been officially announced that British P.o.W.s and Dominion and Allied P.o.W.s on recuperative leave in this country will receive double civilian rations for a period of six weeks. Men who have a medical certificate will receive an allowance of 14 pints of milk and three eggs a week.
Ex-P.o.W.s’ Votes
Ex-prisoners who wish to use their vote at the forthcoming General Election (or at a by-election) can get their names included in a Service Register by signing an electoral declaration not later than four days before nomination day.
Musicians and Artists
Repatriated P.o.W.s who are professional musicians or artists may be interested to know that the Indoor Recreations Section of the British Red Cross and St. John War Organisation has certain limited stocks for free issue. The goods available include:-
Instruments. – Ukeleles, guitars, violins and flutinas. A few clarinets, fluted and piano accordions may be available in the near future.
Sheet Music.- Scores for practically all types of instruments. Choral music, vocal scores of operettas, miniature scores, popular sheet music and instruction books.
Artists’ Materials.- Small boxes each containing drawing paper, box of water-colour paints, coloured crayons, brushes, rubber, ruler, pencil and pen.
Applications for any of these goods will be accepted only from repatriated P.o.W.s who are either professional artists or musicians, or who have been studying art or music whilst in camp. Applicants must give their full name and present address, as well as their P.o.W. number and prison camp address, and apply in writing to: The Indoor Recreation Section, Prisoners of War Department, St. James’s Palace, London, S.W.1.
Books for Study
The Educational Books Section will continue to advise and supply books to repatriated P.o.W.s who wish to complete a course already begun under the auspices of the Section. Only books now in stock will be available, as no new purchases can be made for this purpose.
South African Red Cross
The London Committee of the South African Red Cross which has functioned in England for the past five years acts as liaison between their headquarters in South Africa and the British and Dominion Red Cross in the United Kingdom.
Three-quarters of the Committee’s work is connected with thousands of Springboks who were captured by the Italians in North Africa; and later, when Italy collapsed, were transferred by the enemy to P.o.W. camps inside Germany.
Hundreds of these men have now been freed by the Allied armies advancing from the west, and they are arriving almost daily in England on their way back to South Africa.
If any relatives or friends in this country want to get in touch with South African ex-prisoners, they should write or telephone to:-
The South African Red Cross,
Grand Buildings (Second Floor)
Trafalgar Square,
Whitehall 5328. London, W.C.
Or:-
The South African Red Cross Bureau,
71, The Drive,
Hove,
Hove 7505. Sussex.
They Won Tug-of-War
British ex-prisoners returning from Odessa competed in a tug-of-war contest on board the ship which was bringing them back to the United Kingdom. Their opponents were men of the Army, Navy and R.A.F., homeward bound on leave from the Middle East.
In spite of all hardships endured during captivity, the ex-prisoners won.
Their prizes were vouchers to be spent in the barber’s shop, but the winners asked that they might receive cash instead if they wanted to present it to Red Cross and St. John in appreciation of the help the Organisation had given them whilst they were prisoners.
Back to Civvy Street
Voluntary camps for repatriated prisoners of war, discharged or released from the Service, are being set up all over the country by the Army. They are to be known as Civil Resettlement Units, will be run like leave camps and will help to put men in touch once again with civil life from which they have so long been estranged.
Finding a Wife
A British P.o.W. asked Red Cross headquarters in Brussels to find his wife, a Dutchwoman known to be nursing with a British Army Civil Affairs detachment in Holland. Within a few hours she was located and sent to Brussels, where husband and wife met at Red Cross headquarters.
All Escaped P.o.W.s Home
All escaped P.o.W.s who have reached a neutral country have been repatriated except a few in Switzerland who are either unfit to travel or have volunteered for temporary war work.
Thanks to General Ike
“Our gratitude for all that has been done by our American Allies for our prisoners released is being conveyed to General Eisenhower.” Mr. Churchill in the House of Commons.
Examination Successes
W/O. ALAN SAXTON, who obtained first place in the Intermediate Examination of the Auctioneers’ and Estate Agents’ Institute last year, has repeated his success in the Final, passing with First Class Honours and being placed first in order of merit of all candidates both at home and in prisoner of war camps.
At the examination of the Law Society recently held in an officers’ camp, all three candidates for the Final Examination were successful, Capt. J.M. Wallace being awarded Distinction, and another candidate, Capt. J.A. Hogg, passed the Special Intermediate Examination with First Class Honours.
Lt. H.D.D. Duffield has passed the Final Examination of the Building Societies’ Institute, and has been awarded the “Sir Enoch Hill” prize of £8 8s. for the best candidate.
Capt. F.V. Corfield has completed the Bar Final Examination and has been awarded a prize of £50 by the Middle Temple on the result of his examination.
In the examination of the Co-operative Union, Cpl. A.S. Chambers obtained Distinction and Cpl. H. Wheeler, Bdr. S. Trelease, Cpl. F.M. Scoates and Sgt. J.E. Keefe obtained First Class in the paper on Window Display.
During the last month over 300 examination results have been announced, the proportion of total successes being 78 per cent.
Pass Lists Still Available
Copies of pass lists for July to December, 1943, and January to June, 1944, are available on application to the Educational Books Section, The New Bodleian, Oxford. 3d. in stamps should be sent for each pass list.
[Page break]
16 The Prisoner of War MAY, 1945
Camp Transfers and Liberation
Following is the latest official information:-
April 24
Oflag VA was evacuated by train on March 31st, and the destination was stated to be Oflag VIIIB, Eichstatt, but the prisoners did not arrive there and it appears they were taken to another camp.
Stalag XIIF has been moved to Wehrkreis VII in Bavaria.
Stalag XVIIA was evacuated on April 1st, and the destination was stated to be Braunau on the Austro-German frontier.
Oflag IVC has been overrun and the prisoners liberated, except for certain selected officers who had been transferred before the arrival of the Allied Forces.
Oflag 79 was reached by the Allied Forces on April 12th. Close upon 2,000 officers and 400 other ranks, most of them from the British Commonwealth, were released.
April 26
Stalag 344 was evacuated by the Germans when the Red Army approached Lamsdorf in January and the prisoners were forced to march westward. About 850 of the prisoners managed to escape to the Russian lines and have now been repatriated from Odessa, but the great majority were transferred to various camps in Central Germany. It is known that men from this camp were moved to Stalags IXA, Zeigenhain; IXB, Bad Orb; XIC, Mulhausen; XIIIC, Hammelburg, and XIID, Nuremburg, from which camps a number of them were recently recovered.
April 30
Stalag VB, Villengen – 69 recovered.
Stalag VIIB, Memmingen – 772 recovered.
Stalag 383, Hohnfels – 1,970 recovered.
Work detachments of Stalag IVD have been liberated at Erderborn, Orberroblinger, Etzdorf and Teutschental. At these four places there have been recovered respectively 16, 32, 315 and 182 British prisoners of war.
May 1
Marlag und Milag Nord, Westertimke, was liberated on May 1st, but a reliable report has been received that the bulk of service personnel previously held there was moved on April 10th toward Lubeck.
Stalag 357. The majority of prisoners were evacuated before it was liberated by British forces.
Camps in Wehrkreis IV, and Stalag IIIA. With the exception of Oflag IVC, which was liberated, it is not known whether the men in these camps have been liberated or whether they were moved farther south before the link-up between the Russian and American Armies.
Oflag VIIB. Except for those in hospital this camp was evacuated on April 15th for a destination near Munich.
Stalag XVIIA was evacuated westwards and was expected to arrive at Braunau, near the Austro-German border, about April 19th.
Stalag XVIIIIA [sic]. Prisoners were marched toward Markt Pongau and Landeck.
It has been reported that large batches of prisoners of war have been for some time marching south and south-west towards Bavaria. Some of these must be from camps originally in Eastern Germany and Poland which were evacuated previously, and some also from Wehrkreis IV. Some of these men have already arrived in camps in Bavaria, and where this is known their next of kin have been informed.
It is, of course, also possible that there may be considerable numbers of prisoners still in German hands in the district of Northern Germany between the British and Russian Armies, as it is known that some of the men from camps in Poland were marching in this direction earlier in the Spring.
Next of kin are assured that directly any information about their particular prisoner is known in this country, they will be notified by the Service Department concerned. Repatriated prisoners are able to send a telegram to their families immediately upon arrival in this country.
Camps Containing British Commonwealth Prisoners of War Still Held by the Germans on May 1st, 1945.
Oflags
IVB Konigstein-Elbe
XC Lubeck
Stalags
IIE Schwerin
IVA Hohnstein
IVC Wistritz bei Terlitz
XIA Altengrabow
317 Markt Pongau
398 Pupping
XVIIIA Wolfsberg
Luft I Barth-Vogelsang
Luft IV Wobbeln bei Ludswigslust
New Camp Markt Pongau
New Camp Braunau or Neukirchen
Hospitals
Ukermunde
Luftwaffen Lazaret 4/XI Wismar
Bilin
Schleswig
Haid Linz
Wolfsberg
Spittal/Drau
Salsburg
Informary Konotau
Ilags
Liebenau, nr. Tetnang Rauenburg
Wursach
Laufen
Spittal
Detention Camp
Stralsund-alt-Faehre.
NEXT OF KIN PARCELS
Suspension and Return
CONDITIONS in Germany no longer allow of the transport and delivery of next of kin parcels. So it has been decided, in agreement with the War Office and the General Post Office, that next of kin parcels which have been collected by the Post Office from the Next of Kin Parcels Centres at Finsbury Circus and Glasgow shall be handed back to these Centres for return to the senders. The parcels will not be reopened by the Red Cross, but will be returned exactly as received from the General Post Office. This work is bound to take a considerable time, and the parcels cannot be dealt with in the order in which they were originally despatched. The Red Cross will write to the sender of each parcel when it is ready to be returned.
No enquiries should be sent to the Parcels Centre before this letter is received, as no information will be available abut parcels not already dealt with.
Later on, parcels which have left this country, but which have not reached Germany will, so far as possible, be returned in the same way to the Red Cross, and then forwarded to the senders.
HELP FROM WALES
Saundersfoot and neighbouring villages in Pembrokeshire recently raised £616 10s. 8d. for the Red Cross through a bazaar and other entertainments.
COUNTY REPRESENTATIVE
Please note the following change:
DORSETSHIRE: Miss E.M. Williams, Wimborne Red Cross Office, 22, East Street, Wimborne, Dorset.
PLEASE NOTE
As there may be news of interest to repatriated men in The Prisoner of War, copies of the journal will be sent to next of kin for three months after the return of their ex-prisoners to this country.
[Boxed] FREE TO NEXT OF KIN
THIS journal is sent free of charge to those registered with the Prisoners of War Dept. as next of kin. In view of the paper shortage no copies are for sale, and it is hoped that next of kin will share their copy with relatives and others interested. [/boxed]
[Boxed] NUMBER, PLEASE!
PLEASE be sure to mention your Red Cross reference number whenever you write to us. Otherwise delay and trouble are caused in finding previous correspondence. [/boxed]
Printed in Great Britain for the Publishers THE RED CROSS AND ST. JOHN WAR ORGANISATION, 14, Grosvenor Crescent, London, S.W., by THE CORNWALL PRESS LTD., Paris Garden, Stamford Street, London, S.E.1.
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 Prisoner of War May 1945
Description
An account of the resource
The official journal of the Prisoners of War Department of the Red Cross and St John War Organisation. This edition covers the Editors comments, Repatriation Arrangements, Liberation comes to Stalag IXA, Behind the Scenes about theatrical endeavours, Barbed Wire Universities about formal studies in camps, First Taste of Freedom photographs of ex-POWs passing through Istanbul, Welcome at Brussels, ex-POWs returning via Odessa, Official reports from the camps, Relied by Road and Rail, a warning to the camp commandants about mistreating POWs, How they help abroad about funds sent to the Red Cross from around the world, Letters from POWs to family at home, photographs from the camps, Repatriates news, Exam results, Camp transfers and Liberation and Next of Kin parcels.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1945-05
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
16 printed sheets
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MCurnockRM1815605-171114-021
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Angola
Belgium
Belgium--Brussels
Cuba
Cyprus
Czech Republic
Czech Republic--Prague
Ethiopia
Ethiopia--Addis Ababa
Egypt
Egypt--Port Said
France
France--Toulon
Germany
Germany--Bautzen Region
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Goldberg (Schwerin)
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Hohnstein (Grafschaft)
Germany--Karlsruhe
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Luckenwalde
Germany--Ravensburg
Germany--Sandbostel
Germany--Schönfeld
Iran
Kenya
Poland
Poland--Żagań
Northern Rhodesia
Sri Lanka
Sri Lanka--Colombo
Switzerland
Switzerland--Geneva
Turkey
Turkey--Istanbul
Ukraine
North Africa
Poland--Tychowo
Lithuania--Šilutė
Czech Republic
Czech Republic--Karlovy Vary
Germany--Moosburg an der Isar
Ukraine--Odesa
Germany--Mühlberg (Bad Liebenwerda)
Czech Republic--Cheb
Lithuania
Angola--Luanda (Luanda)
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Red Cross and St John war organisation. Prisoners of war department
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Anne-Marie Watson
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1945-05
aircrew
arts and crafts
entertainment
escaping
ground personnel
Holocaust
Navy, Army and Air Force Institute
prisoner of war
Red Cross
Stalag 3A
Stalag Luft 1
Stalag Luft 3
Stalag Luft 4
Stalag Luft 6
Stalag Luft 7
the long march
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/781/9438/LWrigleyJ1029740v1.2.pdf
44ee862707f671b4ce71a0b2c0ccf4c6
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
Wrigley, James
J Wrigley
Description
An account of the resource
27 items. The collection concerns James Wrigley (1920 - 2010, 1029740 Royal Air Force) and contains an interview with his widow, Alice Wrigley, photographs, his log book, decorations, and a photograph album of his service in the UK and and Far East. The collection also contains a log book made out to Rascal, his mascot or lucky charm. James Wrigley completed 47 operations as a wireless operator with 97 and 635 Squadrons.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Susan Higgins 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
2017-07-09
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. 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
Wrigley, J
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
James Wrigley's flying log book
Description
An account of the resource
Flying log book for Warrant Officer James Wrigley, wireless operator, covering the period from 17 November 1942 to 30 June 1954. Detailing training, operations and instructor duties. He was stationed at RAF Yatesbury, RAF Pembrey, RAF Whitchurch Heath (Tilstock), RAF Lindholme, RAF Bourn, RAF Downham Market, RAF Kinloss, RAF Forres, RAF St. Athan, RAF Abingdon, RAF Hemswell, RAF Binbrook, RAF Marham, RAF Scampton, RAF Negombo, RAF Tengah and RAF Shallufa. Aircraft flown in were, Dominie, Proctor, Blenheim, Anson, Whitley, Halifax, Lancaster, Wellington, Lincoln and B-29. He flew a total of 47 night operations, one with 81 OTU, 39 with 97 Squadron and 7 with 635 Squadron. Targets were, Rouen, Hamburg, Milan, Mannheim, Nuremberg, Peenemunde, Munchen-Gladbach, Berlin, Hannover, Leipzig, Munich, Kassel, Cologne, Ludwigshaven, Frankfurt, Stuttgart, Brunswick, Ottignies, Le Havre, Lens and Coubronne. His pilots on operations were <span data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335559739":200,"335559740":276}">Pilot Officer Munro DFM and Squadron Leader Riches DFC. </span>
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
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Mike Connock
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One booklet
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Log book and record book
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
LWrigleyJ1029740v1
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
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending review
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Belgium
Egypt
France
Germany
Great Britain
Italy
Singapore
Sri Lanka
Atlantic Ocean--English Channel
Belgium--Ottignies
Egypt--Suez Canal
England--Berkshire
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Norfolk
England--Shropshire
England--Wiltshire
England--Yorkshire
France--Le Havre
France--Lens
France--Rouen
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Braunschweig
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Kassel
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Ludwigshafen am Rhein
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Mönchengladbach
Germany--Munich
Germany--Nuremberg
Germany--Peenemünde
Germany--Stuttgart
Italy--Milan
Scotland--Grampian
Sri Lanka--Western Province
Wales--Carmarthenshire
Wales--Glamorgan
North Africa
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1943-05-23
1943-05-24
1943-08-02
1943-08-03
1943-08-08
1943-08-09
1943-08-10
1943-08-11
1943-08-12
1943-08-13
1943-08-17
1943-08-18
1943-08-27
1943-08-28
1943-08-31
1943-09-03
1943-09-04
1943-09-22
1943-09-23
1943-09-24
1943-09-27
1943-09-28
1943-10-02
1943-10-03
1943-10-18
1943-10-20
1943-10-21
1943-10-22
1943-11-03
1943-11-17
1943-11-18
1943-11-19
1943-11-22
1943-11-23
1943-11-25
1943-11-26
1943-11-27
1943-12-02
1943-12-03
1943-12-16
1943-12-17
1943-12-20
1943-12-29
1944-01-14
1944-01-30
1944-02-15
1944-02-16
1944-02-19
1944-02-20
1944-02-24
1944-02-25
1944-02-26
1944-03-01
1944-03-02
1944-03-15
1944-03-16
1944-03-18
1944-03-19
1944-03-22
1944-03-23
1944-03-30
1944-03-31
1944-04-18
1944-04-19
1944-04-20
1944-04-21
1944-06-14
1944-06-15
1944-06-16
1944-06-23
1944-06-24
10 OTU
1656 HCU
19 OTU
199 Squadron
35 Squadron
617 Squadron
635 Squadron
81 OTU
83 Squadron
97 Squadron
Air Gunnery School
aircrew
Anson
B-29
Blenheim
bombing
bombing of Hamburg (24-31 July 1943)
bombing of Kassel (22/23 October 1943)
bombing of Nuremberg (30 / 31 March 1944)
Bombing of Peenemünde (17/18 August 1943)
bombing of the Le Havre E-boat pens (14/15 June 1944)
Dominie
final resting place
Halifax
Halifax Mk 1
Halifax Mk 2
Heavy Conversion Unit
killed in action
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 1
Lancaster Mk 3
Lincoln
missing in action
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
Pathfinders
Proctor
RAF Abingdon
RAF Binbrook
RAF Bourn
RAF Downham Market
RAF Hemswell
RAF Kinloss
RAF Lindholme
RAF Marham
RAF Pembrey
RAF Scampton
RAF Shallufa
RAF St Athan
RAF Tilstock
RAF Yatesbury
training
Wellington
Whitley
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/802/26596/LDickerAHG18112199v1.1.pdf
6eea32b618fa3b7f1b9a910ad6297246
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
Dicker, Violet
V Dicker
Description
An account of the resource
Two items. An oral history interview with Violet Dicker (b. 1926). She served in the Land Army and is the widow of bomb aimer and navigator Flight Lieutenant Alan Henry George Dicker (1812199, 167748 Royal Air Force). The collection also contains his log book.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Violet Dicker and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-10-15
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
Dicker, AHG
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
A H G Dicker’s Royal Canadian Air Force flying log book for aircrew other than pilot
Description
An account of the resource
Royal Canadian Air Force flying log book for aircrew other than pilot for A H G Dicker, navigator, covering the period from 4 July 1944 to 30 April 1953. Detailing his flying training, post war duties with 205 squadron, 52 squadron, 203 squadron and instructor duties. He was stationed at RCAF Mountain View, RCAF Charlottetown, RCAF Summerside, RAF Oakes Field, RAF Windsor Field, RAF Koggala, RAF Changi, RAF St Eval, RAF Calshot, RAF Shawbury and RAF Thorney Island. Aircraft flown in were Anson, Mitchell, Liberator, Sunderland, Harvard, Dakota, York, Lancaster, Oxford, Lincoln, Valetta, Wellington and Varsity.
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
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Mike Connock
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One booklet
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Log book and record book
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
LDickerAHG18112199v1
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.
Bahamas
Canada
Great Britain
Singapore
Sri Lanka
Bahamas--Nassau
England--Hampshire
England--Shropshire
Ontario--Prince Edward County
Prince Edward Island--Summerside
Sri Lanka--Văligama
England--Cornwall (County)
England--Sussex
Bahamas
Ontario
Prince Edward Island
Ontario--Belleville
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
205 Squadron
52 Squadron
Air Observers School
aircrew
Anson
B-24
B-25
bomb aimer
Bombing and Gunnery School
C-47
Harvard
Lancaster
Lincoln
navigator
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
RAF Calshot
RAF Shawbury
RAF St Eval
RAF Thorney Island
Sunderland
training
Wellington
York
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/711/17279/MBlairJJ[Ser -DoB]-160509-01.pdf
e2e9d8182bf6e54b5b01c95e7baedfa6
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
Blair, John
John Jericho Blair
J J Blair
Description
An account of the resource
38 items. The collection concerns John Jericho Blair DFC (1919-2004). He was born in Jamaica and served in RAF from 1942-1963. He flew a tour of operations as a navigator with 102 Squadron from RAF Pocklington. The collection includes numerous photographs of him and colleagues, several photographs of Jamaica, a document detailing his life and an interview with his great nephew Mark Johnson.
The collection also contains three interviews with Caribbean veterans including John Blair recorded by Mark Johnson.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Mark Johnson 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
2016-05-09
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.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Blair, JJ
Access Rights
Information about who can access the resource or an indication of its security status. Access Rights may include information regarding access or restrictions based on privacy, security, or other policies.
Permission granted for commercial projects
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
The Story of Flight Lieutenant John J Blair, DFC 102 (Ceylon) Squadron and 216 Squadron Royal Air Force
1942 to 1963
Author’s Note
This story is primarily the transcript of a taped interview with my Uncle John Blair that took place in 1997. Following the creation of the raw transcript, I researched several aspects of the story to fill in some gaps. Very sadly, Uncle John began to suffer the effects of Alzheimer’s Disease soon after I spoke to him, and he was unable to review this text. Any errors of fact contained in the story are therefore mine.
Mark Johnson
London, 2008
Chapter 1: On the Pedro Plains
Let’s start the story from the beginning, bearing in mind the fact that I was born way back in 1919. This was in the Pedro Plains district of the Parish of St. Elizabeth, in south‐western Jamaica – a real country parish where families barely got by on farming and fishing.
There were eight children in my family and I happened to be the last one. In fact, I really came out of the blue because the sibling I followed was seven years ahead of me. So I was the “little last one”, what they used to call in those days a “wash belly” child. Well anyway, there I was and so off I went, trying to catch up with the rest of my family.
Life in rural Jamaica had a very slow pace back then, there being no motor vehicles around, no television or radio, no electricity in fact, nor anything else that depended on that. Our farming and fishing community was labour intensive and used techniques that go way back to the olden days. Life followed the seasons; not those of the northern hemisphere, but ‘rainy season’, ‘hurricane season’ and even ‘mango season’!
We experienced long, dry, hot periods in Pedro Plains and rainfall has always been scarce there. The soil is very red and it’s a dusty place, with few trees. At many points sharp limestone rocks stick up out of the ground like little mountain peaks. When I was a child, most people still lived in thatched cottages. You made do and you recycled everything.
One of my brothers and two sisters, as well as my brother‐in‐law were all teachers, and in time the two men rose to prominent positions in the field of education in Jamaica. In those days, teachers were amongst a group of people who were held in high esteem within the community, as were nurses and doctors, veterinarians, police constables and the local postmistress. Nowadays it’s all about lawyers, politicians, musicians, gunmen and drug dealers, but back then, in Jamaica at least, we still lived by the old values.
As I was so much younger than my brothers and sisters, I didn’t have the opportunity to go to school at the same time as them. In fact, when I eventually started school one of my sisters, Jemima Blair, was already the teacher there. In the 1920s these country schools were tiny places with only a single class made up of children of all ages, and just the one teacher. This was old style primary education. The teacher stood at the front of the class and taught, while we sat at our little wooden tables and recited. When you weren’t supposed to be reciting, you kept quiet or else you would know what was coming next; a good hiding! You didn’t raise your hand and ask questions; questions were asked of you, and you had better know the answer.
I actually started school before I had reached the required age at that time, which was seven. I started at the age of five, and this created some interesting problems. One day there came a visit by a School Inspector. (In those days of British colonial government, the Inspectors were all Englishmen – we would have called them ‘white men’.) I recall that I was literally pushed out of the back of the building by my sister when the Inspector arrived so that questions about my age would not arise!
I remained in school in St. Elizabeth until I was ten years old and then my parents were forced to move away for work for a while, and my eldest sister, Clarissa, took me in. She was also a teacher and had married yet another teacher, a Mr. Enos Bertram Johnson, or ‘E.B.’ Johnson as he was called.
They lived in a teacher’s cottage in the parish of St. Mary, almost at the other end of the island. Mr. Johnson was a serious and imposing figure and a respected educator. He also led the local scout troop and I can remember the boys parading, all smartly dressed in their khaki uniforms, but barefoot – most of them could not afford shoes in those days. I spent about a year and a half with the Johnsons until my brother Stanley returned home from the Cayman Islands. Stanley was the other teacher in my family, and he later became a School Inspector himself. I moved to live with him where he was teaching in St. Ann and eventually, after yet another move, Ocho Rios is where we ended up.
Stanley’s teacher’s cottage was a ramshackle affair and in very poor condition. There was little in it in the way of furniture or fittings and things were so tough for the pair of us that as soon as my parents had returned to Pedro Plains, I was sent home. In reality, home was not much better than my brothers’ cottage that I had just escaped from. Nevertheless, I spent the rest of my time in elementary school there and, all in all, I can say that I received a good basic education.
When I reached the age of seventeen, I decided to become a teacher like many of my siblings and I made an attempt to enter the Mico Training College in Kingston as a trainee. Mico was highly regarded and competition for places there was intense. It took two attempts, but eventually I was successful and I spent three years at the College, and experienced life in the ‘big city’. I left there as a qualified teacher in elementary education and I soon joined the Greenwich School near Tinson Pen, Kingston where I taught for about a year and a half.
By now the Second World War had been in progress for a year and many local people were volunteering to serve in uniform, irrespective of their qualifications. Some were selected to do manual labour and others were considered capable of more sophisticated activities. Although we lived far from the centre of things, we all knew about what was taking place in Europe. In those days our educational curriculum was set by the Colonial Government, and it was essentially the same as that studied by English children. We were therefore more familiar with British history than we were with our own, and goings on in the war with Germany had been well publicised. I recall that a couple of my younger Johnson nephews in Kingston (E.B. and Clarissa’s sons) kept a map of Europe on their bedroom wall, and plotted the course of the war from the information they heard on the BBC news broadcasts. Their hero was the Soviet general, Zhukov.
The general view of Hitler was that he was a man who needed to be stopped. Although a lot of Jamaicans resented colonial rule, I don’t think anyone was confused about the difference between that and what the Nazis stood for. We felt that we were all in it together – all the small countries of the world.
So, it was with this attitude that I applied to the Royal Air Force (RAF) as ‘aircrew’, and I was accepted for training. Up until this time the official British policy was that only 'British born men, of British born parents, of pure European descent' could receive officer’s commissions in any of the services. The RAF was the first to relax the restriction as their officer casualties had been so high in relation to the other services, but the colour ban was not lifted in the Navy or the Army until 1948. It was for this reason that so many of the West Indian volunteers opted for the air force. Altogether, I understand that about a thousand West Indians served as RAF aircrew during the Second World War, while thousands also served in various ground staff capacities.
Having returned home briefly to bid farewell to my family, I left St Elizabeth on the fish truck that ran to Kingston regularly from in front of the old Post Office. My nephew George Henry was amongst those gathered to see me off and he told me much later that his earliest childhood memory is of me coming to say goodbye to his mother Jemima – my sister and former teacher. George was about three when I set off and he remembers that behind the Post Office fence there was a lot of broken glass lying on the ground. He thought at the time that this was where the war was!
That trip to Kingston on the fish truck was no small affair – it took hours. When we left St Elizabeth and started the long climb up Spur Tree Hill towards the town of Mandeville, the truck would begin to overheat. The brakes were so poor that when we stopped to top up the radiator, we had to jump down quickly and ‘cotch’ the rear wheels with large stones, otherwise the thing would just roll backwards down the hill and a lot of fish would be lost! In those days, by the time you got to Kingston you were in need of a vacation.
After a short period of orientation at Up Park Camp in Kingston about thirty of us, all RAF volunteers, left the island by ship in October 1942, bound ultimately for Canada. We were off to commence our training for war. So there I was, a 23 year old elementary school teacher from Pedro Plains, St Elizabeth, Jamaica, on my way to fly against the Nazi war machine.
Chapter 2: Cold Like the Devil!
Our journey from Jamaica was really quite comical at the outset. We were ordered to board an American ship and I remember the crew just looking at us coldly and pointing below decks, saying ‘You all go down there’; remember that in most parts a black man couldn’t even vote back then! When we descended to the first level, we saw a lot of empty bunks, so everyone selected a bed and we started to make ourselves at home. However, we did not have time to get too comfortable because within a few minutes an officer appeared and shouted, ‘No, not here, go down two more levels!’ And so we volunteers spent the rest of our time on that ship sitting in the hold!
This was my first time on the open sea, and my first time out of Jamaica, so I was fortunate to be in a good group. That ship pitched and rolled like crazy, and it was dark, hot and damp down there in the hold. Several men were sick and the smell in that confined place got quite bad, which didn’t help.
We stopped for a short time in British Honduras, as it was known then (now Belize) where we took on board some forestry workers who had volunteered for labour duties, as well as a few more RAF fellows. I chatted with some of the workers as our enlarged group squatted down below decks, and they said they were going to Scotland where they would be working in the forests, cutting timber – or so they believed. They probably ended up loading cargo, in the rain, in an English port somewhere.
We travelled together as far as New Orleans where we all disembarked, with a great deal of relief. The RAF party then travelled up to New York and spent about two weeks there waiting to be told where we should go next. This was an opportunity to have a good look around, and we made full use of it. Leo Balderamos from Belize joined me on a trip to the top of the Empire State Building, then the tallest structure ever built. Now that was something! Finally our orders arrived and we set off once again, bound for the largest RAF station in Canada, Monkton in New Brunswick.
That camp covered many acres and held a large number of trainees. I don’t know how many people were there in total, because all students coming from various parts of the United Kingdom to do their Air Force training came through there. Whether you were bound for training in Canada or in the United States, you would be shipped through this base, so it was a very, very large place indeed, swarming with recruits. Before we left Monkton, we got our first issue of uniforms and we were given our basic training.
This ‘basic training’ activity had nothing to do with flying; it was just the initial qualification for getting into any of the services. A lot of our time was taken up with morning parades, and this parade and that parade, and saluting here and saluting there, stamping your feet at every chance, and using rifles, which I had never touched before in my life. It was quite an initiation.
Our first uniforms were uncomfortable and they made you itch. In addition to the trousers and jacket, we had a heavy greatcoat and great big, black leather boots, with nails in the sole. These made a crisp sound as you marched and you felt as though you were already set to jump on the Germans. We had brass buttons to clean every night, as well as our boots, and lots of brass bits all over our belts and webbing. A lot of cleaning and polishing had to be done and the evenings were generally spent sitting on the edge of our bunks in the barrack room, shining our gear, and telling jokes or speculating about the future.
We left Monkton at the end of November 1942, there being twenty‐one of us remaining in our group now, and we were sent to an RCAF (Royal Canadian Air Force) training base. We spent more time there being familiarised with the Canadian military and Air Force systems.
Our group was what we would today describe as ‘multi‐cultural’. There were only two Englishmen and the group covered all shades from black to white to grey! One of the Englishmen was a teacher like me, although he taught at a college in the UK, and the other had been living in Belize. In those days it was common practice to describe a man by his colour, and it wasn’t necessarily derogatory – it depended on the tone and context. We all travelled together and lived together without tension.
After about three weeks of further basic training we were sent to Toronto. It was here that we would be classified for different roles, so this was a critical period for anyone who had ambitions to fly. We had lectures and exams on a variety subjects and the results determined which end of the airfield you were destined for. This was our ‘ironing out’ phase.
Those who failed to qualify for flight training went off to be trained for ground staff roles while those who had qualified were assigned to the next phase of training, in preparation for flying school or navigator’s training. The process really was conducted purely on the basis of qualifications, not race. Our two Englishmen were selected for preliminary flight training from our group, as was Arthur Wint (the famous Jamaican athlete) LO Lynch from Jamaica (who later won the prestigious) RAF Air Gunner’s Trophy) Leo Balderamos from Belize, and myself.
We spent quite a long time in this stage of training, and this was in the deep, dark Canadian winter, which I had never experienced before. I can remember that the snow was up around your knees if you were not careful where you went walking. Once they had broken us down into groups, those of us who were selected for flying were sent to McGill University, where we spent about 4 weeks in the classroom. Suddenly, myself
and Arthur Wint were sent to a special school up in Ottawa. Whatever unearthly reason there was for this was not explained at the time – it seemed the authorities had just pulled our two names up out of a hat. They hadn’t even made provision for our accommodation and we had to sort that out ourselves. Anyway, off we went as ordered, and on arrival it dawned on us that the Canadians had somehow got the idea that we didn’t know anything about maths.
When these special classes started, we realized that we were being taught the most basic levels of algebra and trigonometry and on the very first day we looked at each other and said, ‘This is a joke!’ Arthur said to me, ‘Look, let’s try and see what we can do to show these people who we actually are’.
When the teacher came into the room for the second session he set up a simple algebraic calculation on the blackboard and Arthur spoke up and asked him to set us a tougher challenge. The fellow looked at Arthur and said ‘Alright’; you could see that he thought Arthur was going to make a mess of it. Arthur got up and solved the problem on the board, and I recall that it was quite a complex one. Well, all I can tell you is that in no time flat we were back in training with the rest of our group!
Not long after this, almost as compensation, Arthur and I were sent on another special training course. This time we arrived at our destination to find that the course was an advanced flying course for experienced pilots. Once again, we were sent packing! Confusion reigned!
We now went to what was known as the Initial Training Wing. This was more advanced than anything we had done before and the place had a very modern feel to it. We knew that when we finished this stage of training we would be assigned our area of specialisation, becoming trainee pilots, navigators or bomb aimers. Although Arthur and I were joining a week late we joined forces and quickly caught up with the group.
Not long after we arrived, we were told that we had to attend a flying medical, which is more difficult to pass than the basic medical all servicemen and women had to take. At this stage, my flying career almost ended before I got off the ground.
We’d been out drinking up in Montreal, and we got back to base by train at about four o’clock in the morning. Almost as soon as we had arrived I heard a voice call out, ‘Blair! Medical!’ It took them all of ten minutes to ‘wash me out’ of aircrew!
I was now an outcast, sent away to what was known as the ‘Holding School’ in Toronto. This was an old exhibition hall, made up of several huge buildings with a variety of strange fixtures here and there (now empty) for the displays. I was alone as I left my group behind, and I arrived at the Holding School alone. It was a horrible feeling and when you walked into the place there were bunk beds stretching away as far as you could see ‐ nothing but beds! Anyway, at least I got a bed for myself this time.
Within this facility there was a holding office specifically for RAF people who had failed their courses and were going back to England without doing flight training. So it appeared that I too would go to England without any training, and with all these strange Englishmen! And boy, let me tell you, I had never seen so many of them in one place before. There were about five hundred men in my area alone, and if you take into account the whole compound, there were probably several thousand men there waiting to be shipped home. But I was there now on my own as I didn’t know anybody else in this large assembly.
After about three weeks cooling my heels, feeling rather low about my plight, I went and saw the Canadian Medical Officer. I told him what the problem was, and he said ‘Alright, we’ll give you another try’. He ran a series of tests, most of which involved looking at various coloured pictures and telling him what I saw. It was a hell of a job to do but I just told him what I saw and the very next day I was given a full medical. Two days later everything was cleared up and the MO called me to his office and said
‘Alright, we are going to send you back to the training school.’ That was a relief, I can tell you.
However, as I had missed almost a month of classes, I was now placed in a new group, and I was the only Jamaican, the only coloured man there; all my coloured friends had gone on ahead. This was a new experience for me, but as it turned out it was not a problem at all. I was treated just like another member of the team. In fact, I never had any problems with racism or unfair treatment throughout my career in the Royal Air Force, right up to 1963. This might be because I felt I knew what the dangers were and I didn’t expose myself to them. But I believe that one’s attitude was the most important factor.
I focused on the task at hand, and towards the end of this period I was informed that I had been selected for Navigator training. This was quite a responsibility because after the Pilot, the Navigator is the key man in the crew. I would have to navigate the route to and from the target, normally at night, using some complicated scientific aids, and often while under attack.
I was told that I had to know my aircraft’s position at any time, regardless of bad weather or enemy action to ensure the survival of aircraft and crew. This would all involve working constantly during any flight to keep my aircraft and its crew on track and on schedule. With my head down over the maps and instruments I would always be aware of the fact that any deviation from the prescribed course can take the aircraft across the path of the hundreds of other craft in the stream behind me, or leave us prey for enemy night fighters. Great concentration would be required, and for much of the flight the only contact I would have with the rest of the crew would be a few instructions and remarks on the intercom.
At flight school we flew a total of sixty four hour’s day flying and thirty eight hour’s night flying between 5th September 1942 and 28th January 1943, before we took our examinations and attempted to qualify. I passed the Navigator’s Course, which included
Navigation, Signals, Aircraft Recognition, Photography, Armament Training, and Day and Night Flying. It was intensive as we worked seven days a week, and very comprehensive, but enjoyable, and we were feeling increasingly confident about our potential. However, at this stage you were not yet ready for operations, no matter how cocky you might be feeling. In operational terms, you were just a baby that’s learning to walk, only half ready for the real thing.
We trained on Ansons, twin‐engine things, and the only navigational equipment we had back then was a map, a compass and a radio you had to tune in order to obtain your bearings. You had nobody else there to help you. The Anson only had room for the pilot, myself sitting behind him, and a second trainee Navigator who would sit in the co‐pilot’s seat. The other trainee and I would alternate, and whoever was navigating would scribble directions on course and airspeed for the pilot onto message pads and pass them forwards. The second Navigator would practice map reading as well, and also wind the landing gear up after takeoff and down before landing.
I remember my first flight as though it were yesterday. We squeezed into the aircraft, weighed down with all our gear, and sat there a while waiting for things to start. I was looking out of one of the windows at the little strip of runway beside me and thinking, ‘What the hell am I doing here?’ The Pilot goes through his procedure, flicking a few switches and calling out the steps on his checklist. Then the port engine makes a kind of whining sound, then a splutter with lots of black smoke being whirled around by the propellers, and finally the engine roars into life and the whole aircraft starts to vibrate. That black smoke is worrying the first time you see it, but you soon get used to it.
The Pilot goes through the same procedure for the starboard engine, and before you realise what’s happening you are rolling down the runway. You speed up slowly, bumping along, and finally the Pilot heaves back on the stick and the aircraft seems to claw its way into the air. Looking out of the window, I could see the buildings, roads and fields diminishing in size below me until they looked like little toy structures.
You didn’t really go anywhere, each flight being a set piece event lasting between two and three hours, navigating from waypoint to waypoint. We also had to do of bombing exercises against dummy targets, so it was starting to feel like the real thing. I still have a picture of that particular course with only one black man in it! The rest are all Canadians and there’s that old Anson behind us.
Once I had completed this phase of training I was sent back to Monkton. On the way I stopped off in Toronto to visit one of the people I got to know there when I was at the Holding School, and who should I see while I was sitting at the railway station but Arthur Wint! Out of nowhere, there he was, big and tall, walking up to me. I was surprised, but happy to see him. Like me, he was now wearing a little white flash on his cap, to indicate that we were now ‘Flying Trainees’.
So after a long period without the company of my countrymen, I was able to travel with Arthur, back to Monkton. And we were big men now! Qualified! Arthur was a Pilot and I was a Navigator – it was a good feeling and we knew that we were part of a small group who had achieved something unique for that period in history. I remember that when we got to Monkton it was cold like the Devil! Oh man, the snow was falling, let me tell you, and I can still see Arthur and I struggling through it with all our bits and pieces. We were reminded that we were Officers now, and so we went to live in the Officers’ section of the base. We were well taken care of there and we met up with more Jamaicans who had also qualified. I recall that one of them was a Navigator and the other was a Bomb Aimer, but I no longer remember their names.
Although we were officers, we didn’t hear very much more about the progress of the war than we got on the news and in the papers. So, with all the training and preparation we had been doing we were just hoping to get into the front line before it was all over. It was now January 1944, and we knew that the Allies were winning. We were ordered to board ship once more, but this time we were bound for the UK and the war. There were still three of us from the original group travelling together, Arthur Wint, myself and one other.
We didn’t sail as part of a convoy although submarines were still active at that time. We sailed from Halifax on a huge troopship full of Canadians and landed in Glasgow. On this voyage we weren’t stuck in the hold, but space below decks was very limited all the same because of the large number on men on board. During the entire voyage I didn’t see another vessel and I know that we went far to the north, close to Iceland before turning south again. This route was the best for avoiding enemy submarines, although nobody mentioned that threat.
On arrival we were given forms to take to the local tailors, and there we were fitted for our new Officer’s uniforms. These were a great improvement on the kit we had been wearing up to that point. We were due some leave, but before we could head out into public view we had to get ourselves properly dressed.
There was no negative reaction to us at all from the people we met around our base ‐ they were glad to see us. For us, however, it was a very strange feeling at first to put on our new uniforms and walk into an English pub, although a few pints gave us some relief from the great pressure we felt. People expressed gratitude when they saw us. We would walk into a pub full of strangers and within a few moments someone would walk over and say ‘Please have a beer with me’. These were Yorkshire men and I will always have fond memories of those kind and friendly people.
It took us a fortnight to get fully kitted out, and as soon as we had achieved that we all headed in to London to enjoy our three week’s leave. The RAF had reserved hotels for its personnel in the city, and we were given free accommodation in one of these. We spent the next three weeks touring the city and seeing its famous sights for the first time, and of course drinking occasionally.
When we returned to our base in Yorkshire we were sent on a Battle Course which included the use of weapons in combat and many other aspects of infantry training – this was done in case we were shot down over enemy territory and had to fight to survive. Next it was back onto the Ansons for familiarisation flying over the UK. There
was a big difference between navigating in the wide open spaces of Canada where you really can’t lose your way, and England, where there is a new town every few miles which makes it much more confusing and challenging.
We were closer than ever to the day when we would have to go to war and once the familiarisation was finished we were posted to RAF Kinloss in Scotland. This was the stage when Pilots, Engineers, Gunners, and Bomb Aimers would be teamed up to form the crews who would fly and fight together. We were assembled in a large group in a cold hangar, and I don’t think any of us knew more than five or six of the other people in the group. Each Pilot was simply told, ‘Pick the rest of your crew’ from the group, and he would just walk around and pick people he liked the look of. Now, I was the only coloured man there as neither Arthur Wint nor the other Jamaican fellow who had come with us from Monkton had been posted to Kinloss.
So, I just stood there in this cold, noisy hangar and eventually a Canadian Pilot who was older than the average and who turned out to be very quiet person, came up to me and asked, ‘Will you come and fly with me?’ This was Ralph Pearson who would be my Pilot for the duration of the war. He then selected the two Gunners, one of whom was named Morris, and the Flight Engineer, Laurie Wilder, as well as his Wireless Operator. The Bomb Aimer would join us later, and he also turned out to be a Canadian. We were all strangers in this crew of seven. In a sense it’s an effective, if haphazard process, but at the same time you are now going off to war with a group of strangers, without so much as a formal introduction. Of course, we would soon get to know each other much better, and the strangers would become human, with good points and bad like any other person.
To start the process of building crew spirit and cohesion we were assigned a rather old aircraft now, a twin‐engine Whitley. We spent four weeks flying that old Whitley, and when I look back on it now I can only say that we must have been mad! That was an old aircraft! But it was tough. The Whitleys were solidly built because they were
designed just before the start of the war when the British realised they would have to fight, but it was built with pre‐war knowledge and this was by now a modern war.
Looking at my flying log today, I realise that we had to learn very quickly; fifty hours flying is not much time to prepare to fight with a new crew. As the Navigator, I was now using a radio system called Gee. This gave me directional readings from a beam transmitted from the ground. We had none of the new radar systems that some of the heavy bombers were equipped with. We only had the radio bearing from various points, a look out of the window to plot our track on the ground when the cloud cover allowed, and the Met reports – if you could actually find the wind blowing in the right direction that would put you on track and help you to stay on track.
Chapter 3: The Real Thing
Finally, our long and exhaustive training was over and we were considered ready for posting to an operational squadron – we were off to war. I was posted to 102 (Ceylon) Squadron, based at Pocklington in Yorkshire. During the Second World War the Squadron flew bombers, first Whitleys, and then the Halifax 2 from 1942 to 1944. In 1944 they were upgraded to the Halifax 3 and then with the Halifax 6 in early 1945, and I flew the last two Halifax models during my tour of duty.
The addition of the word ‘Ceylon’ was granted to the Squadron after the inhabitants of what we now call Sri Lanka adopted the Squadron and set aside some of their savings towards its maintenance. The squadron was made up of men from Great Britain, Canada, Ceylon, the West Indies, Australia and New Zealand, among other places.
The squadron history says that 102 (Ceylon) saw non‐stop action over Europe from 1939 to 1945. In 1944 the Squadron flew its highest number of sorties. (A sortie means one aircraft on one operational mission). 2,280 were flown of which 308 took place in August. The Squadron supported the D‐Day landings in June 1944 in Normandy, bombing a coastal gun battery that could have opposed the Allied operation. Other major targets during the war included Berlin, Cologne, Frankfurt, Hamburg, Munich, and the Ruhr industrial area, Turin, Genoa and Milan, all of which were struck from our base in Yorkshire.
I arrived at the squadron in December 1944 and if you just look at a sample from the list of 102’s losses for that period you can get a hint of what we were about to face. We lost eight aircraft out of a total of twenty four in just the first three weeks following my arrival, and six of those went down over Germany – that’s 50% losses in less than a month, and I still had five months of wartime flying ahead of me!
24 Dec 1944 – Halifax MZ871DY‐G, target Mülheim, crashed near Neuss, Germany, two crewmembers killed, one missing, four taken prisoner.
24 Dec 1944 – Halifax LW168DY‐O, target Mülheim, hit by flak and crashed near Krefeld, Germany, one crewmember killed, one missing, five taken prisoner.
29 Dec 1944 – Halifax MZ426DY‐D, target Koblenz, damaged in combat, one crewman wounded.
01 Jan 1945 – Halifax LW158DY‐P, target Dortmund, undershot on landing and hit house, entire crew injured.
02 Jan 1945 – Halifax NR186, training, overshot and crashed, crew uninjured.
05 Jan 1945 – Halifax MZ796DY‐M, target Hannover, hit by flak and crashed at Neustadt, Germany, five crewmen killed, two taken prisoner.
05 Jan 1945 – Halifax LL597DY‐X, target Hannover, shot down over Germany, five crewmen killed, three taken prisoner.
05 Jan 1945 – Halifax NA602DY‐Y, target Hannover, shot down over Germany, seven crewmen killed, one taken prisoner.
16 Jan 1945 – Halifax LW179DY‐Y, target Magdeburg, shot down over Germany, all eight crewmen killed.
So, this was it. We had a short familiarisation course on the Halifax, just twenty one daylight hours and eight at night and then we were thrown into the thick of it; “There’s your plane, there’s the target, now get on with it”!
Our first flight was a bombing exercise with the new aircraft, because it was even more sophisticated than the one on which we had done our training. We also did some cross‐country flying to ensure that we were familiar with the country around our base. This was on a Halifax Mark III. The crew was all lined up by now, and a good crew it was too! Together we would survive the next five months of battle, and thirty three bombing missions over Germany, without a single casualty.
Sixty years on, I am embarrassed to admit that I can’t recall all the names. However, the Pilot was the Canadian from Vancouver, Pearson, who had first picked me
out of the crowd in that hangar in Scotland. I remember that the two Gunners were Englishmen, one for the mid‐upper turret, and one for the tail. The Wireless Operator or Radio Operator was a Scottish fellow, the Engineer was an English gentleman from around Liverpool, the Bomb Aimer was from Canada, and of course there was I –all the way from Jamaica! It was an international crew all right, but we all got on well together, and worked as a tight knit team.
We all had to learn the special language of the air force. Many people, particularly the more senior officers, really did talk in the fashion that you only hear in old war films today. By now, this manner of speech had become a habit for me also, and I recall that when I returned home it caused some amusement.
On the 21st of December 1944 we took off for the real thing. The target for our first operational mission was Cologne, classified as an ‘Industrial Target’ and the scene of many casualties on both sides during this stage of the war.
A lot goes on during a mission, both before and after takeoff, and much of it is just a blur now. I had been afraid of feeling fear, if you understand what I mean, but when the time came I found that I had so much to do that I simply didn’t have time for feelings. I experienced this on all the operational trips I made ‐ you just don’t have time for it. During the flight you have to make sure that you stay with your group and your timing must be absolutely right. There is simply no room for error.
During our briefing we were told when to get to each waypoint, one after the other, and finally the time to be at the bomb release point, which was absolute and inflexible. You see there was not just one aircraft on missions like this; there would be hundreds of planes up there with you, sometimes as many as a thousand. We would typically have two hundred or more aircraft attacking any on one target at a time. We would fly to the target in a long column of aircraft, called the ‘bomber stream’ and you needed to know exactly which section you were in, where you were in relation to the
other sections of the stream, and where you needed to be next, to avoid colliding with any of the hundreds of planes in the air around you.
Collisions were commonplace and they caused many casualties. It wasn’t unheard of for the bomb load to detonate as well, and I know of at least one case where this happened and three nearby aircraft were brought down, along with the one that exploded first.
Let me try to describe the experience of setting off on my first mission. I had finished an intensive and extended period of training and I felt ready for this first operational flight, but let me tell you, it’s not an easy thing to do; it’s a hard, hard thing. That first morning we were all told that we were scheduled to fly that night. ‘On duty tonight’ they said. We were given this warning at about ten o’clock in the morning, and the mission took place between ten that night and two o’clock the following morning. In that four hour period we would have had to complete the total course to the target, drop our bombs and get back to the UK, but as the Navigator I also had a lot of work to do in the time remaining before takeoff.
We had lunch, and then, clutching our navigational charts, the navigators from each Squadron aircraft headed off to our briefing, where we were told the identity of the target and the track to be flown. Most of the crew was still in the dark, and didn’t yet know where we were going, so they had more time to ponder. I took out my maps and drew in the route. This zigzag course is designed to confuse the enemy. It was made up of a series of legs, each ending at a waypoint, and each going in a different direction, because if you just fly straight to the target, the enemy will be fully prepared, ready and waiting.
Walking out to the aircraft for that first operational flight was like walking through deep mud, or a strong wind. I felt as though we were moving in slow motion and my legs didn’t seem to want to carry me out there. Mentally though, I wouldn’t say I was afraid as such. I was just unusually aware of my surroundings and completely focused
on the task at hand to the exclusion of all other thoughts. The time for thinking was past; it was time for action now.
I sat at my little table with the charts laid out before me, and listened to the talk on the intercom as the Pilot went through the now familiar procedures for takeoff. Then we were trundling over the surface of the airfield towards the runway, the four engines drowning out all other sounds. A brief pause at the end of the runway followed, while we awaited clearance to takeoff from the Controller. Then the engines went to maximum power as Pilot Officer Pearson set the throttles to full, and we started to bounce and vibrate our way down the runway, gradually picking up speed, before straining into the air. The vibration ended, the undercarriage came up with a heavy ‘thunk’ and we were airborne. Eventually the engines settled to a steady drone, and we turned and climbed to form up with the rest of the Squadron. The takeoff and ensuing climb allowed us to gain the prescribed height, but the real action began when we crossed the English coastline and headed towards Europe.
The pilot didn’t have the vast array of gauges and instruments that the pilots of a modern bomber possess. There was an altimeter, to show the current height above sea level, a tachometer to display airspeed, an attitude indicator that showed the angle of the aircraft relative to the horizon, RPM indicators for each of the four engines, a compass and a few other dials. Flying a heavily loaded bomber in congested airspace with none of today’s tools required real skill and could be physically demanding.
In those old Halifax’s and even in the Lancaster I flew in later, the Navigator couldn’t see or hear much at all. I sat behind a little curtain because I didn’t want to expose a light that might attract a night fighter. We kept red lights on to read the maps and the fighter would be on the lookout for any little flash of light in the black sky. Initially, he would have used radar to find your approximate location, but in those days radar wasn’t yet accurate enough to guide him precisely to you. The Germans had jet fighters in the air as well at this stage of the war, and let me tell you, they didn’t waste time – quick as the devil those things were.
The two gunners had a different perspective. The Mid‐Upper Turret Gunner had his head literally protruding from the top of the aircraft, protected from the elements by a Perspex cone. This gunner would be constantly revolving his turret throughout the flight, scanning 360 degrees for any sign of enemy aircraft. The Tail Gunner sat alone at the rear of the plane and he had a more limited field of view. His mount was a ball‐ shaped device that also protruded form the body of the aircraft, and he could swivel his guns left and right, but to a limited extent.
As I said, I couldn’t see a great deal from my position and for most of the journey I had my head down over my charts and instruments, working hard to keep us on track. In addition to several maps of northwest Europe and a collection of odd bits of paper, protractors, rulers and various coloured pencils, I had repeats of the altimeter, airspeed indicator, and the compass in front of me. I recall that next to these in a Lancaster was also a device called the Air Position Indicator which indicated our latitudes and longitudes, but I don’t recall whether we had this tool in the older Halifax bombers. Occasionally, I would get up to take a quick look outside to check the Met and get a fix on our position, but while we were over the target I couldn’t see the effect of our bombs or indeed any of the flak that was exploding outside the aircraft.
So, the work of guiding the pilot there and guiding him home again, is the navigator’s, and it’s is hard work I can tell you. And while we were doing this twisting and turning there were hundreds of other aircraft in the black night sky beside us, above us, below us, everywhere, but you couldn’t see a single one. This entire thing was done at night!
I recall that for this mission we were divided into three waves, and these were further broken down into flights of aircraft. Our wave, the first, would be over the target at midnight, and we would take ten minutes to pass over it, releasing our payload of bombs as we went. The first flight would bomb at the appointed time precisely, while the flight behind would bomb a minute later, and the next flight a minute after them until the entire wave of bombers had finished and the second wave would start. So it
stretched on over a fairly long period of time, and a large slice of the sky, and in order to be on time you had to work out exactly what your speed needed to be with great accuracy. Getting that right was very important indeed.
The first thing we noted as we approached the enemy coast was the searchlights and we knew that German night fighters were out there in the dark looking for us. Then, as we approached Cologne there were more searchlights and lots of flak (anti‐ aircraft fire) over the target. The actual bombing run, the last leg leading in to the target, only took about ten minutes between the time we turned onto it and the time we released our bombs. When the bombs fell from the bomb bay, in the belly of the aircraft, the plane leapt upwards as it was now much lighter. I felt my heart leap upwards as well, happy to be rid of all that high explosive. After the bombs were safely away, we twisted and turned as we left the target in case there were enemy fighter aircraft waiting to hit us, and then we made our way home through the dark, back to our base away over the sea.
Once we had cleared the target and cleared the zone where we could expect to meet enemy night‐fighters, I felt quite relaxed. I think that my experience was shared by many other crew members. We had too much work to do and everything you did had to be re‐checked, because you can’t make mistakes. A mistake in those conditions could be fatal.
Throughout the flight I could hear the other crew members talking on the intercom. When the gunners spotted a fighter they would call out its position and the whole crew would be aware of the threat. If you were some distance from the target you could manoeuvre up and down, but not sideways. Once in the bomber stream you can’t go left or right, and if you were to turn in there, across the path of the stream, God help you!
On that first night we had attacked the important Cologne/Nippes rail marshalling yards which were being used to serve the final German offensive in the Ardennes. No
aircraft were lost and the target was cloud‐covered, so only a few bombs hit the railway yards but I later read that these caused the destruction of 40 wagons, a repair workshop and several railway lines.
I don’t know if photographs of the results of that raid are still available, but the picture below, showing the Giessen yards in March 1945 will give you some idea of what was involved. In the centre you can just make out the railway tracks with several trains on them, and all around you can see the craters made by the bombs when they detonated.
Three days later, on the 24th December, Christmas Eve, we set out on our second operational mission (‘Ops II’ as it’s called in my log book) to bomb Mülheim. There were ‘bags’ of flak waiting for us and the attack was what we called ‘a complete hang up’; a nasty business. Altogether there were 338 aircraft on this mission, attacking the airfields at Lohausen and Mülheim (now Düsseldorf and Essen civil airports).
Three Halifax aircraft on the Mülheim raid were shot down, two of which were from my squadron. I later learned that of the fourteen men who went down in those two aircraft, three were confirmed killed, nine were taken prisoner and two were listed as missing. I think the missing men eventually turned out to have died.
You see, the danger we faced was not just in the air. Even if you were shot and down, managed to escape the aircraft and parachute to the ground you were still in a great deal of danger as you were descending on the very people you had been engaged in bombing only a few minutes earlier. When you think about it, it’s really amazing that anyone was ever taken prisoner.
While I flew that second ‘Op’, Sergeant Arnie Coope and his crew from 102 Squadron were among the three crews shot down. This is what he later wrote about his experience on that night.
“As I hung suspended, (in my parachute) frightened and all alone, I watched the rest of our bombers complete their mission and head back home for the Christmas festivities and at this stage I looked at my watch – it was only 1430 hours.
“As I neared the ground, I could see people converging towards where I was expected to land and I got the distinct impression that I was shot at several times. I thought that I had better do something about this so I jerked around in the harness and just hung limp until I hit the ground with a thump. I was immediately surrounded by a hostile crowd, but before they could do something to me, soldiers arrived.”
It’s a very sad thing, but the truth is that some of 102 (Ceylon) Squadron crews shot down on the same mission were lynched by angry mobs of German civilians. You can only speculate on the chances of survival for a Jamaican airman landing in Hitler’s Reich! Luckily for me, I was in one of those aircraft that Arnie Coope could see, still flying overhead.
Ops III and IV saw us heading to Koblenz on the 29th, when Halifax MZ426DY‐D was damaged in combat and one crewman was wounded, and then back to Cologne on the 30th of December. In spite of the damage to one of our squadron aircraft, no aircraft were lost and at least part of the bombing of each raid hit the railway areas. The Koblenz‐Lützel railway bridge was out of action for the rest of the war and the cranes of the Mosel Harbour were put out of action by our group.
Our attack on the 30th December, 1944 was directed at the area of the Kalk‐Nord railways yards, near Cologne. There was heavy cloud cover over the target and we could not observe the effect of our bombing, but later reports indicated that two ammunition trains had blown up, and that we had badly damaged the yards, two railway stations and the nearby Autobahn. The cumulative effect of these raids, and many of those that followed, was to severely hinder the German’s ability to move troops and critical supplies to the battlefront.
Between 2nd and 22nd January, 1945 we flew another six missions (Ops V to Ops X) dropping our bombs on Ludwigshafen, where we destroyed the IG Farben chemical works (this company produced the gas used in the Nazi extermination camps); Hanau where the wind scattered our bombs over a wide area of the city; Saarbruken railway yards which were hit accurately; Dulmen Luftwaffe fuel storage depot, where our bombs landed in open fields; the city of Magdeburg, an area target; and Gelsenkirchen where residential and industrial zones were targeted.
Our crew didn’t fly on the 5th January, but the Squadron did attack Hannover and had a rough night, losing three aircraft at the cost of seventeen men killed and six taken prisoner. I believe that at least one of our squadron aircraft was shot down by a night fighter piloted by Hauptman Georg‐Hermann Greiner, who shot down a total of four of our bombers in only ten minutes that night, the other three being Lancasters. Greiner was a Luftwaffe Ace, who shot down a total of 51 allied aircraft during the war. At the time we didn’t know much at all about the identities of the enemy pilots, but later I was able to learn that several hardy and highly skilled German night fighter aces continued to engage us right up to the end of the war and some of the top enemy pilots survived the war.
On the Magdeburg run, on 16th January, our compasses stopped working, and we had to navigate without them (quite a challenge) but we got home in one piece. We suffered heavy losses during this attack, which also destroyed 40% of that city. Altogether, 17 Halifax aircraft were lost, representing 5.3% of our attacking force. Halifax LW179DY‐Y from our own Squadron, and flown by Squadron Leader Jarand, was shot down over Germany on this mission with all 8 crewmen killed, bringing the total number of men killed in 102 Squadron to 29 in just 4 weeks. Nevertheless, although we didn’t know it then, we were through the worst. In the last months of the war our squadron lost only another 5 aircraft. Other squadrons were less fortunate and continued to lose men and aircraft right up to the end.
The effect of our bombs on the target was devastating, particularly when large cities were struck. Later in the war when daylight raids were more frequent, I had the chance to observe some of these targets from the air, and as the photographs show, there was almost nothing left standing in most German city centres.
On 29th January 1945 we headed for Stuttgart on Ops XI. This time our bomb load ‘hung up’, meaning that the bombs wouldn’t release and we had to release them manually. This was a difficult business at twenty thousand feet, the crew labouring over the high explosive cargo with the bomb doors open and the screaming dark rushing by beneath their feet. We finally got the bombs away and landed at Tangmere. A combination of cloud, dummy target indicator rockets set off by the Germans, hilly terrain and dummy target fires, also started by the enemy meant that our bombing was very scattered and in this final RAF raid against this city, and casualties on the ground were relatively light on that night.
I continued to feel as though a great weight had been lifted off me each time the bombs were released. We still had flak and fighters to face, but at least we were rid of all the explosives we had been carrying. There was a collective sigh of relief, because if we had been hit with the explosives still on board – oh Christ! A hit in those circumstances means that there is a chance that the whole aircraft would simply blow up before we even hit the ground. Even if we did hit the ground in one piece, we would certainly explode.
Only a third of my way through the tour, I was already a veteran. Our squadron had already lost 8 aircraft out of a full strength of 24 since I joined. Of course, each loss was replaced as it occurred, so we were generally at full strength. And so the sequence repeated itself, night after night. Sitting in the briefing room with my fellow navigators, listening to details of the weather and the target, noting the details of flak positions on my charts and trying not to think about enemy fire. Walking to the aircraft in the evening twilight with the rest of the crew, clambering aboard through a narrow hatch
and sitting at my navigation table, listening to the nervous chatter on the intercom. The aircraft engines starting, belching that black smoke, their whine rising to a roar, the aircraft lumbering and jolting down the runway, taking me with it regardless, straining to lift itself off the ground, clawing at the cold air and climbing up into the night sky. The long, bumpy flight over dark countryside and black waters, turning this way and that. The long hours of waiting and then the enemy night fighters coming out of nowhere at high speed, guns firing all around, other aircraft burning as they fall, their crews dying, beyond any help I could offer. Then the flak and searchlights over the target, the aircraft leaping upwards as the bombs fall away, the steep dive to low‐level flight, and skimming over the trees and the black water back to base, for hot tea and eggs and bacon, and sleep, and trying not to think about the comrades who would never come home again.
On 2nd February, our bombing was again frustrated by cloud and it is reported that we did not hit the oil refinery we were trying to get at. We then lost an engine due to enemy fire over Wanne Eickel, and once more we flew home on three engines. There was the usual crack of flak going off around us, and then we heard a sudden loud bang and the aircraft was shaken violently. Our starboard outer engine died immediately and we lost some altitude before the pilot was able to level the aircraft. A mission over Bonn followed, and then we had a tough time with the flak over Goch on Op XIV and at Wesel, where cloud forced us to abort the attack, on Op XV.
The anti‐aircraft fire was always extremely unpleasant, but we soon learned that we just had to live with it. On most missions, our commanders would attempt to route us around known enemy flak concentrations so that our route through the air to the target would depend on the position of the gunners on the ground. But many of those guns were mobile and the Germans would switch locations so that at least some of their fire simply couldn’t be escaped. In those circumstances you had to fly on through the shell bursts and hope for the best. Of course, there was always plenty of flak
surrounding the target. We knew that wherever the target was, it was going to be loaded with flak, and once we got there we just had to say, well, ‘Here goes!’
The Goch raid comprised 464 aircraft and was intended to prepare the way for the attack of the British army across the German frontier near the Reichswald; the Germans had included the towns of Goch and Kleve in their strong defences there. Our Master Bomber ordered us to come in below the cloud with the rest of the Main Force and as the estimated cloud base was only 5,000ft the attack was very accurate at first. However, the raid was stopped after 155 aircraft had bombed, because smoke was causing control of the raid to become impossible. We didn’t bomb for this reason, but our course took use through the smoke and directly over the target, nevertheless.
Considerable damage was caused in Goch but I read later that most of the inhabitants had probably left the town. Kleve was also attacked, and the photograph of that town below shows the effect. One of our aircraft was lost during this attack, and although several of the crew parachuted to safety and returned to Pocklington, the pilot didn’t get out in time and he burned to death in the crash.
On the 21st, while hitting the city of Worms, of which 39% was destroyed, we had an extended tangle with German fighters. Several of these infiltrated our formation and made good their attacks and 25 bombers were shot down over various parts of Germany that night, 8 of them from our mission. Hauptmann Greiner was active again, shooting down two of our aircraft. Flying with him that night were three more German aces; Gunther Bahr, Heinz Schnaufer and Heinz Rökker who between them accounted for 24 of the 25 bombers downed. So you see, some of these enemy pilots were coming up at us and shooting down 6 or 7 bombers each in one night, single handed. You can read about the fellows I named here in the Appendix.
I judge that the stress put on a German fighter pilot must have been much greater than that put on the crew of one of our bombers, simply because we had more eyes watching the night sky around us. We were flying in such massive formations that, as
long as we stayed on course and on schedule, the odds of a fighter targeting our plane specifically were relatively low. At the same time, as we were flying a big, heavy bomber, we would never go off chasing the enemy.
So, if he chooses to attack the main bomber stream, the fighter pilot finds that he’s operating at a major disadvantage. If he does come close (and many did) and picks a target, all the nearby aircraft would swing their guns towards the single fighter and he would find himself facing very heavy fire. It took great courage on the enemy’s part. At the same time, all of our gunners, excluding the ones in the aircraft actually being attacked, would know that they were in no immediate danger and they could operate without that pressure. They knew that they had a chance to get the fighter while it hadn’t a hope in hell of hitting them.
What this meant was that, nine times out of ten, the fighters would go after the stragglers and ‘strays’ – aircraft that had dropped out of formation due to damage or poor navigation. Imagine, if you can, a huge, dense stream of aircraft, with the odd wayward fellow off to one side, below, or lagging behind. These were the ones who would most likely be picked off by the night fighters, who would come in like sharks, nibbling at the edge of the ‘fish’ in the bomber stream.
The majority of the German night fighters were actually modified fighter‐bomber and light bomber aircraft that were no longer effective in daylight. These twin‐engine planes had been fitted with radar and extra armaments to enable them to find and destroy allied bombers in the dark. The crews were specialists who flew only at night, and they belonged to elite ‘Nachtjagd’ or night fighter units.
Most of those enemy fighter pilots would attack us from behind and below, because that was our blind spot. The enemy aircraft often had special gun mountings, fitted to point slightly upwards to support this direction of attack, in a configuration the Germans called ‘Schräge Musik’. This meant that the Tail Gunner was critical to our defence and he had to be constantly alert. Many tail gunners were killed during the war
and it wasn’t unknown for the whole tail gun assembly to be shot off, with the gunner in it. That was a hard way to go and there was no way to bail out of a tail gun position as it spun to earth. As soon as either of the gunners saw an enemy fighter coming in they would call out, and the whole crew would know that we were under attack.
We rarely had prolonged engagements with the enemy fighter pilots. They would come in fast and try and get in close, but our gunners were very good and the enemy would generally be chased off after one or two passes, because for obvious reasons they were not for pressing forward when our fire was accurate. Navigation was an important factor in this. If you could stay on course you would have the company of many other aircraft with all the tail gunners and top gunners in your vicinity firing simultaneously. The enemy didn’t approve of that. You needed steady nerves and lightening reflexes to survive however, and the wayward paid a heavy price.
Below is one of the claim forms the enemy would fill out if they shot you down, so that their victory would be recorded against their name. I am happy to say that I was never referred to on any of these!
The month of February 1945 came to a close with attacks on the huge Krupps armaments works at Essen where the Germans recorded that we were very accurate, dropping 300 high explosive and 11,000 incendiaries on the target. We also made an attack on the synthetic oil plant at Kamen. In the final week of the month we were upgraded to the Halifax VI bomber, which had better engines and a longer range, and on the 25th we flew a cross country to familiarise ourselves with this aircraft.
We returned to Cologne for the third time on Ops XIX on 2nd March 1945. That city really took a hammering from us and others during this period, and the damage was very extensive, as the picture shows. There really was almost nothing left in the centre of most of these German cities. Four days after this raid, American troops captured what remained of Cologne.
Another trip to Kamen the following night saw us being hit by intruders once again, this time on the return leg as we crossed the coast of England. The enemy had adopted a new tactic that involved attacking our forces as we were preparing to land, and on this first occasion it caught us completely by surprise. Once again we had been forced to fly home on three engines owing to a technical problem. I don’t know if Greiner was in the air near us, but Luftwaffe records show that he shot down three more Lancaster bombers on that night. This time, however, we had hit the synthetic oil plant without suffering any losses in our squadron, and that plant never went back into production after that attack.
In the week that followed we struck Chemnitz and dropped mines in Flemsberg Fjord. The Chemnitz raid required us to takeoff in icy conditions, and one squadron lost several aircraft due to mid‐air collisions.
One of my 102 Squadron pilots, Flight Lieutenant Jim Weaver, wrote this account of a raid on Stuttgart in July 1944, which gives a good idea of what the experience was like for most of us.
“It was a nice run up to the target with instructions from the Master Bomber, then ‘Bomb doors open’, ‘Left, left’, ‘Right, right’, ‘Steady’, ‘Bombs gone!’ The Halifax jumped up, relieved of its burden and now there was the long 25 seconds while the photo was taken and then ‘Bomb doors closed’. This whole procedure was not long in time but seemed to be the most intense part of the trip, especially over the most heavily defended targets.
“Leaving Stuttgart, it gradually became quieter, but exceptionally dark when suddenly, all hell broke loose. Tracers and cannon shells were tearing into the tail assembly and port wing. Almost instantaneously, I reacted with a dive to starboard, away from the tracers as, obviously, the fighter was astern. I shouted to the rear gunner ‘Paul – get that guy!’ It was a Junkers 88 astern, below and to starboard. The defensive
action we took brought him up in full view of the rear gunner who shot him down, seeing it break up with a fire and explosion around one of its engines.”
I was lucky as I was too busy to be frightened. But there were others who weren’t busy enough! I wouldn't have wanted to be sitting down there all alone in the tail of the aircraft as a tail gunner, waiting for a night fighter to come in and take pot shots at me. Nor would I want to have been a pilot, forced to hold the aircraft straight and level while flying into flak, able to see everything that was coming up at me. With all that twisting and turning and with the need to be accurate at all times I was simply too busy to worry. As I told you before we never seemed to fly in the same direction for more than 50 miles. Every five minutes we would turn left or turn right, descend or ascend in order to make sure that the enemy couldn't train their guns on us.
It was the same on every mission and I was always just three or four minutes from the next turn, working like crazy to get everything ready. Some of the other crewmembers really had nothing to do, unless the fighters came in to attack us. They were the men who suffered, you see, because they were just sitting there waiting, and that is a hell of a lot of pressure to put on anybody. We navigators were too busy to think about what could happen, and fortunate to have this responsibility.
We hit the shipyards in Hamburg on the 8th March, and then on the 11th we took part in the last ‘thousand bomber raid’ on Essen. Essen was a major target in the heart of Germany’s industrial centre, the Ruhr, and large raids had headed this way repeatedly. RAF reports said later that 1,079 aircraft of all bomber groups attacked Essen this night. This was the largest number of aircraft sent to a target so far in the war. Three Lancasters were lost but 4,661 tons of bombs were dropped through complete cloud cover. The reports stated that the attack was accurate and that this great blow virtually paralysed Essen until the American troops entered the city some time later. This was the last RAF raid on Essen, which had been attacked many times. Most of the city was now in ruins. 7,000 people had died in the air raids and the pre‐war
population of 648,000 had fallen to 310,000 by the end of April 1945; the rest had left for quieter places in Germany.
Wuppertal, Bottrop and Witten were attacked by us between the 13th and 19th March. The flak over Bottrop on 15th March was very bad and one Halifax was shot down. The Witten raid was an area attack and it destroyed 129 acres of the city, or 62%, including both industrial and residential districts.
We then had two dream missions, with almost no enemy action being observed, over Dulmen and Osnabruck at the end of March, although we lost an engine due to technical problems on the 25th and had to return from Osnabruck on three. I was getting used to that by this time. These were both area attacks, and we could see large fires and lots of dust and smoke as we flew away from the target.
With only four Ops to go to complete my tour, and counting down, we returned to Hamburg for the last time on 8th April, 1945 to attack the shipyards. Altogether, 3 Halifaxes and 3 Lancasters were shot down that night, and this also turned out to be the final RAF raid on the city. The following night we dropped more mines into the Flemsburg Fjord.
On 13th April we bombed Nuremburg, the future site of the war crimes trials. This city had a special meaning for me as a black person. It was here that the huge Nazi rallies were held, and here that the German race laws were created in the 1930s. I could recall hearing mention of this place many times in my late teens and early twenties. To be flying in one of the aircraft assigned to bomb the city provided a reminder that the journey I had taken and the risks I had shared were in a just and important cause.
Finally, on 18th April, 1945 we flew our last mission of the war, Op XXXIII, thirty three operational flights being the compulsory allotment. On this final mission we attacked a fortified island near Heligoland called Wangerooge, and that was a hell of a
‘prang’, I can tell you. This place was armed and defended like no other place in the world, but we really gave them a hammering, although 3 Halifaxes were also lost.
I don't recall exactly how many aircraft were committed for this attack, I think it was a hundred, but I can tell you it was a large force because of the heavy fortifications on that island, which included thick reinforced concrete bunkers and many antiaircraft batteries. It was one hell of a blast and the attack was made in daylight. We carried very heavy bombs specially designed to pierce the thick ceilings of the enemy bunkers, and there were also fighter‐bomber aircraft involved, smaller than the heavy bombers, that carried rockets to attack and suppress the antiaircraft positions.
On that final raid, after we had dropped the bombs, we did something that was totally wrong; for the first and only time we went around and circled the target. We knew that there was nothing left down there to touch us. In fact there wasn’t a single gun firing, just lots and lots of smoke. We could see explosions as well from bombs being dropped by aircraft that had flown in behind us and secondary explosions caused by munitions or fuel stored on the ground being hit. Following our assault two more squadrons went into that target and essentially wiped it out militarily ‐ there was just nothing left.
Of course you know by now that Heligoland was just one small military target while many of our missions were directed at industrial targets and large cities; this was what they called ‘total war’. It had been declared as such by Hitler and we were now paying him back.
The massive quantities of bombs that we carried and dropped on a target were bound to cause large numbers of casualties on the ground. You would try your hardest to navigate accurately and to bomb with precision but you can never be right on target every time. You think you have the right wind direction, you think you have the right wind speed, and that there won’t be any deviation between the wind at your height and the wind nearer the ground, but at the end of the day if you're going to drop that kind of
weaponry from that sort of height you know that you're really just going to wipe out whatever is on the ground below you. Remember, we were bombing from 30,000 feet which meant that there were several miles of air beneath us, with winds blowing this way and that, and we were unable to observe or measure any of those deviations.
On many occasions we were confident that we had the aircraft perfectly aligned, just as it should be; the bomb aimer had his sights on the target, all his calculations had been completed and the aircraft was ready for a perfect bomb run, but when he released the bombs they just didn’t fall where he intended because of a wind shear somewhere beneath us. The wind would just take the bombs off target and they would land some distance away, often on civilian areas that were not being targeted. You would do your best, but there were just too many factors to take into account, many of them out of your control. That’s the nature of the beast. You tried your best.
So, that was that. Thirty three operational missions, all of them over Germany at the climax of the air war, with just over 197 operational hours and 25 non‐operational hours, for a total of 223 hours aloft with no casualties amongst our crew.
Sadly, many of our comrades were not as fortunate. In the course of the war 102 Squadron had the third heaviest losses in Bomber Command. We lost over 1,000 men out of a Bomber Command total loss of 55,000, suffered the heaviest losses in Number 4 Group (shared with 78 Squadron) and had the highest percentage losses in the Group. As I explained earlier, these heavy casualties continued almost to the end of the war.
It’s also important to bear in mind the fact that, although we were only four or five months away from the end of the war in Europe, 46% of the total tonnage of bombs dropped by Bomber Command during the entire war was dropped between September 1944 and May 1945. It’s very sad, but with a strength of 120 or so aircrew on the Squadron more than a third (47) had been killed during the last six months of the war, 2 were missing and 18 had been taken prisoner.
The courage of my comrades is reflected in the fact that a total of 74 Distinguished Flying Medals (DFM) and the Distinguished Flying Crosses (DFC) were awarded to squadron members between 1939 and 1945, along with one CGM. I was one of the recipients of the DFC, awarded for my service with 102 Squadron, although it was not presented until after the war had ended and I had transferred to another unit. I also received the 1939 to 1945 Medal, the France/Germany Cross, the Defence Medal and the War Medal. I don’t know specifically why they gave me the DFC. They kept that secret from me.
Our commitment was limited to those thirty‐three operational missions. A few fellows got really worked up about the length of it, affected by the stress of constant flying and exposure to danger. In those cases the RAF would quickly pull them off flying duty and put somebody else into the crew. The affected person would be given a rest and in most cases he would eventually be put back on duty once he had recovered. There was a pretty modern attitude towards that kind of thing, even in those days, and we felt that we were fairly treated.
My operational tour ended before the end of the war. After I finished my tour it was time to go and get drunk! It was a big relief to come through that alive, yet I am sure that if the war had continued I would have signed up for another tour of duty straightaway. I can't really explain why, it's just something to do with the way I felt at the time, that we were doing the right thing, that it was important.
I know there were people who would go up for their first flight and then decide that they weren't ready for this at all, that they were not going back. I have to admit that I don't think that what we did was something that most people would do in the same circumstances. Without meaning to sound conceited, I believe that the process of selection and the intensive period of training brought a special group of people to the top of the pile.
Ralph Pearson, our pilot, one air gunner and I all volunteered to join the Pathfinder Force. The Pathfinders were an elite force trained to arrive at the target first and to drop flares and incendiaries to mark it for the main force bombers. Our applications were approved and we were posted to the Pathfinder training school to train on the Lancaster bomber. However, after about two weeks of this familiarisation the war in Europe came to a close as the Germans surrendered.
Well, with that our pilot Pearson just disappeared; in fact I tried to contact him before he left, but he was going straight back to Canada as the Canadians were being taken home very quickly by their authorities. Pearson was more or less engaged to a girl up in York, so he rushed off to join her about three days before the actual end of the conflict, while I was stuck at the training centre cooling my heels.
As soon as the fighting had ended I hopped on the first train to York, but I couldn't find Pearson. I visited everybody I knew trying to get some information about his whereabouts but I wasn’t able to contact him. Eventually I gave up and, as I couldn't get a room in a hotel anywhere, what with everyone returning from overseas, I ended up spending the whole night sitting in the railway station. Thank God it wasn't too cold. The next day I caught the first train back to my base and I never saw Pearson or heard from him again. He left so quickly, you see that I never got his address.
Chapter 5: My World Tour
I actually stayed with the RAF until 1963. I transferred to Transport Command and I even ran for the RAF track team, my events being the two‐twenty and four‐forty. I was formally entitled to wear the RAF Athletics Blazer, something that required written approval. At the end of my career I was serving as the Chief Navigation Officer for 216 Squadron, which operated the De Havilland Comet, a brand‐new jet aircraft suited to carrying passengers. The Comet was really the first genuine passenger jet.
In 1959 or 1960 I flew out to Vancouver, where Ralph Pearson had lived before the war, as a navigator in the Comet. While there I wrote several letters to various addresses in an attempt to contact Ralph but I still couldn't find him in spite of sending letters here, there and everywhere. I don’t know if he eventually married that girl from Yorkshire.
I did stay in touch with Laurie Wilder, our Flight Engineer. He was posted to the Middle East for a time, but when he came back he took ill and he died a few years ago. Of the others in my crew, I met only one after the war. I was walking along a street in London and I heard someone walking behind me. I knew it was a policeman but I didn't worry about that as I knew they were just walking past me. Suddenly, one of these policemen turned around to face me and said, ‘Excuse me, sir’. I thought he was going to arrest me, but as it turned out it was Morris, one of the mid‐upper gunners, who had now joined the police force. I exclaimed, ‘My God!’ I had a shock you know, as I just heard this uniformed gentleman say ‘Excuse me, sir’ and when you hear that from a policeman you know that the next words coming are, ‘You are wanted for questioning down at the Station’!
I used to work on the de‐mob ships coming back to Jamaica with Jamaican servicemen from the UK. I was on duty, in my uniform, and it felt good to walk the streets of Kingston and to meet up with members of the family, dressed as a flyer returned from the war. On the first trip, I took sixty days leave and went home to see my family for the first time in four years. I was proud of what we had done, and I’m not ashamed to admit that. I also believe that people really looked up to us and appreciated our efforts.
I did about three de‐mob trips out here, and we actually had some serious trouble on a few occasions because of the long drawn out demobilisation process for Jamaican servicemen, and the rough conditions they were forced to endure. Men from other nations appeared to have been given priority treatment when it came to repatriation, and our men felt that they had been badly treated.
I was down in Middle East in November 1945 and for some unearthly reason heavy rain started to fall. In addition, at this time in England they had one whole month of fog, and we were supposed to fly via Italy to pick up some passengers and carry them home to the UK. When we were ready to leave Italy the controllers told us, ‘Well you can’t move because you can’t get in; you can’t get into any airfield in England’. After sitting there for two full weeks, we were told to fly over to Naples. We then spent about two weeks flying over to the heel of Italy, and bringing people over to Naples to catch a ship home from there.
We finally got back to England in December 1945, after almost a month of trying. They must have had a hell of a lot of fog there. We left Naples with about twenty‐five soldiers on board, which was the standard load, and believe it or not, we got as far as the Channel and then we had to go all the way back to Marseilles, as we still couldn’t fly in.
Finally, the following morning, with the wind against us, we were able to get into our UK base and drop off our passengers. This was a Saturday with Christmas right around the corner. As I climbed down from the aircraft I saw three or four staff cars and a gaggle of senior officers standing there waiting for us. I said to myself, ‘What the hell did we do wrong?’ That’s the first thing that comes to mind when you see a gathering like that ‐ something must be wrong! Well, they stepped away from the cars, and I saw the Wing Commander at the head of the group. He said ‘John Blair come here!’ So I went over, trying to work out what kind of trouble I was in when he handed me something and said, ‘This is yours! You’ve been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross! Well done!’ And I said, ‘For what?’
There were no less than three Squadron Leaders standing there with the Wing Commander, and one of them said, ‘What the hell is this? You won a DFC and you didn’t say anything to anybody! But here you are; you have been awarded the DFC for the work done during your tour with the bombers in 102 Squadron.’ There was no
particular mission or event that caused them to give me that award, just my overall performance during the whole tour.
So that was it – I was surprised, I can tell you. There was a citation and a short letter from the King enclosed with the medal, but I have lost those unfortunately. All I can say is that I did the best job as a Navigator that I could have ever done. Well, we came through thirty‐three missions and many, many crews did not.
Of course, that night after they gave me the medal was a terrible night! From whisky to beer to whisky again! Beer by the barrel‐full and whiskey by the bottle! That was after suffering in Italy for a whole month, and since I had even had to go and buy new shirts down there, money was tight. I really couldn’t afford that medal.
With Transport Command I went all around the world, flying as a Navigator in Hastings aircraft and also the Comet. I met my future wife Margaret on an aircraft flying into Hong Kong. I was navigating and she was idling! She was the Senior Flight Sister but with nothing to do as there were no patients going outbound, although we would take patients on the journey back, mostly army personnel. That aircraft was actually a hospital ward with stretcher patients and seated patients. The Sisters were kept busy when they had casualties to attend to, but fortunately for me we were empty on that flight.
Later, I was based out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean dropping off cargo destined for Christmas Island in the period leading up to the British nuclear tests. I went fishing before the tests and caught a few really big ones.
In 1995 I was invited to represent Jamaica at the 50th Anniversary celebrations of the end of the war, held in London. Several of us represented Jamaica, including my friend John Ebanks, who had been a Navigator/Bomb Aimer in a Mosquito Squadron. Well, that was quite something. It was very well attended indeed and I had never before seen the streets of London with so many people on them. We marched from Greenwich up to big, old Buckingham Palace. On both sides of the street all the way to
the Palace, people must have been standing more than twenty deep. It felt as though there were millions of people there on that day.
While we were fighting we never thought about defending the Empire or anything along those lines. We just knew deep down inside that we were all in this together and that what was taking place around our world had to be stopped. That was a war that had to be fought; there are no two ways about that. A lot of people have never thought about what would have happened to them here in Jamaica if the Germans had won, but we certainly would have returned to slavery. If a youngster today should ever suggest that we had no business going to fight a ‘white man’s war’ I would just throw my foot at him where it hurt him the most!
EPILOGUE
Flight Lieutenant John J Blair, DFC, 1919 to 2004
Remembrance for
Flight Lieutenant John Jellico Blair, DFC 1919 – 2004
Read at his funeral service by Mark Johnson, nephew
What motives led John Blair to tread the path he did and what must he have felt as he travelled from the dusty plains of southern St Elizabeth, Jamaica, to the air over Germany in 1944; from educator to Royal Air Force navigator, to lawyer and air accident investigator; from poor rural roots to a Distinguished Flying Cross and a career as one of the first West Indians to serve in the officer’s ranks of His Majesty’s Forces?
Uncle John went to school in Pedro Plains, to be taught by his elder sister Jemima; what a fate that must be, to be taught by one’s sister! There was a single class for children of all ages and he was actually told to start school two years early. When the English schools inspector came to visit, Aunt Jem would push him out of the one‐room school by the back door, so that she wouldn’t get into trouble.
As a child, John was moved around between his home, his brother Stanley’s teacher’s cottage in St Ann and his sister Clarissa’s house in St Mary. In the latter, John used to watch his brother‐in‐law, Mr E.B. Johnson, leading the local scout troop. The troop was smartly dressed, with uniforms and scarves, just like their English counterparts, but they were all barefoot! None of them could afford shoes for day‐to‐day use.
In the late 1930s, John left St Elizabeth to study at the Mico Teachers Training College, and he graduated as a teacher in elementary education after the 2nd World War had already started and in the words of Uncle John’s lifelong friend and RAF comrade, John Ebanks, ‘Hitler was a bully who had to be stopped’. John Blair decided that he would be one of those who would do the stopping.
So this reserved, 23 year‐old school teacher from the countryside volunteered to join the Royal Air Force, and in October 1942 he was put on a ship in Kingston harbour along with twenty other Jamaican volunteers and sent to Canada for training, by way of Belize, New Orleans and New York. This was a man who had never held a gun, never before left Jamaica, and never once flown in an aeroplane.
That experience on board the American ship stayed with Uncle John, and he found it both ironic and amusing. When his group went on board, they were told to go below. As they arrived on the first deck they found empty bunks waiting for them, so they started to unpack. However, an officer soon appeared and told them that their proper place was two decks further down; in the hold! And that’s where they travelled all the way to New Orleans, via Belize!
John trained in Canada as a Navigator in bomber aircraft, and he said it was “Cold like the Devil!” As the navigator, John Blair was responsible for telling the pilot how to get to the target and how to get home again after the bombs had been dropped. This was done mostly at night and with very limited technical assistance, just maps, compasses, a radio signal for taking bearings, star sightings and a regular look out of the window at the ground below, when you could see it. No radar. No computers. And no lights!
And while doing all this, with hundreds of other aircraft all around them in the night sky, the bombers were under attack by enemy fighters and anti‐aircraft fire. Understand this – Uncle John’s squadron (102 Ceylon Squadron) possessed 16 Halifax bombers, each with a crew of 7 men taken from many nations. During the first 3 weeks of his service with the Squadron, 8 of those 16 planes had been shot down over Germany; that’s 50% of his squadron in less than a month, with most of the crews being killed. John Blair would fly for a total of 5 months, and fly 33 bombing missions in that period.
Imagine, if you can, just a few moments in this long period of strain and tension; John Blair sitting in the briefing room with his fellow navigators, listening to details of the weather and the target, noting the enemy flak positions on his charts and trying not to
think about the effect of their fire; John walking to the aircraft in the evening twilight with his crew, clambering aboard through a narrow hatch and sitting at his navigation table, listening to the chatter on the intercom. The aircraft engines starting, belching black smoke, their whine rising to a roar, the aircraft lumbering and jolting down the runway, taking him with it regardless, straining to lift itself off the ground, clawing at the cold air and climbing into the night. Imagine a long, bumpy flight over dark countryside and black waters, turning this way and that, long hours of waiting and then the enemy night fighters coming out of nowhere at high speed, guns firing all around, other aircraft burning as they fall, their crews dying, beyond any help he could offer. Now picture the flak and searchlights over the target, the aircraft leaping upwards as the bombs fall away leaving it so much lighter, the steep dive to low‐level flight and then skimming over the trees and the water back to base, for hot tea and eggs and bacon, and sleep, and trying not to think about the comrades who would never come home again, or the fact that it would all need to be over again the following night, and the next, and the night after that.
That is what this man did.
He admitted that this was a hard, hard thing to do; there was fear and danger, and there was discomfort. Thousands of airmen died on both sides, and his Squadron suffered the second highest losses of any RAF squadron during the entire Second World War. The enemy was expert and resolute and many of the German pilots who attacked John’s squadron were combat aces with years of experience.
For example, Hauptman Georg Hermann Greiner, who downed an aircraft from 102 on 5th January 1945 was a Luftwaffe Ace, who shot down a total of 51 allied aircraft during the war. Major Heinz‐Wolfgang Schnaufer, who attacked the squadron on 21st February 1945 bringing two planes down, shot down a total of 121 allied planes during his career. In fact, on that night Schnaufer, Greiner and two other German pilots accounted for a total of 25 allied bombers in less than 30 minutes.
So this was serious business; it was life and death, and more often death than life for the allied aircrews.
What did John Blair do when he had completed this tour? Well, he volunteered for a second tour with the elite Pathfinder Squadron, and he was accepted. He also went out and got drunk with his crew, and I wonder if he didn’t get drunk first and volunteer afterwards! For his service with 102 Squadron Flight Lieutenant John Jellico Blair was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, the 1939 to 1945 Medal, the France/Germany Cross, the Defence Medal and the War Medal.
At the end of the war in Europe, Uncle John stayed in the RAF and transferred to Transport Command, flying all over the world. It was on one such flight to the Far East that he met his future wife Margaret. She was the Senior Flight Sister on board and they were on their way to pick up British casualties and ferry them home. As Uncle John put it, ‘I was working and she was idling!’
He also flew as a navigator in the Comet aircraft, the first passenger jet, and he remained in the RAF until 1963, a total of 21 years. John and Margaret Blair had two children, John Julian and Sarah, both of whom now live in the UK but who are here with us today. The family returned to Jamaica in the 1970s, and John Blair practiced law, worked as Deputy Director of Civil Aviation and tried his hand at farming.
Severe illness struck Uncle John in the late 1990’s. Throughout his long illness his wife Margaret and their children demonstrated the incredible devotion and strength that John himself had displayed throughout his life. How should we remember that life? In keeping with his own style, I propose just a few simple words; devotion to duty, to his country and to his people; love for his wife and for his children; compassion and humility; respect for others and concern for all mankind; self‐sacrifice. Let us remember him thus, let us thank him and his comrades for risking their lives to secure our freedom, and let us hope that each of us can be just one tenth the human being that was John Jellico Blair.
Appendix A
Transcript of an Interview with John Ebanks July 1997
I was a very religious young man and even now I can't understand my motivation for going to fight in the services. In 1940 I was the youngest lay preacher in the Anglican Church in Jamaica. But I was just annoyed when I listened to the news and heard how Hitler was just bulldozing his way through those little countries like Poland and Czechoslovakia. I was hurt ‐ he was just a dammed bully using his strength to dominate those people, and that triggered my decision.
I had five brothers and six sisters and came from a very traditional family background but I didn't tell my parents what I was planning to do until I had already been accepted by the RAF. I waited till the last minute to tell them.
My father was a teacher from St Elizabeth in Jamaica. In fact, there's a story in the family that states that by rights we should be in the owners of the whole of Treasure Beach where my good friend John Blair comes from. There were two brothers from Scotland call Eubanks (Ebanks is a corruption) who decided to leave their father’s carpet making business and follow in the footsteps of Columbus. Well they set sail and they reached as far as the Cayman Islands, where one of them settled. The second brother continued but his ship ran into a storm and they were shipwrecked on the South West coast of Jamaica at what is now called Treasure Beach. And so that's how the family came to Jamaica, and up to 40 years ago anywhere you heard the name Ebanks you could be certain that you were talking to someone who hailed from St Elizabeth. In 1954 there were only two Ebanks in the telephone directory and now there are about 30.
In 1939 I was a teacher. One day I was sitting with the headmistress listening to the radio when suddenly Churchill came on and we heard that amazing speech, “We will
fight them on the beaches”. I was very moved. The Germans were just rampaging across Europe, and these people were going to stop them.
So the following day I made an application to the RAF. That was in 1940 but I didn't hear from them until the middle of 1941 when they told me to report to Kingston for medical and mental tests. Incidentally the educational tests we got out here were much tougher than the ones we received when we arrived in England. We didn't actually join up here in Jamaica. There was a committee here and they were very strict because at that time all the fellows who applied were applying for aircrew duties ‐ no one was applying for anything else. My first choice was to be a pilot but I received a 100% score in the mathematical aspects of the test and apparently the English school system wasn't turning out as many good mathematicians as were required. So I was asked to become a navigator, given my skill at math. I didn't mind because I already knew that this was a critical job and that many aircraft were lost not because of enemy fire, but due to errors in navigation. It was common to hear of planes going off course and flying into mountains or heading far out to sea never to return.
After a few months in England I was posted to Canada for training. We had a good time in Canada. There was no blackout, there was plenty to eat and the girls were very nice, but that didn't interest me! What disturbed me was the comment that people trained in Canada as navigators were very poor in their performance operationally, because there was no blackout and so navigation was easy compared to Europe.
When I joined my squadron I was the only non‐commissioned officer on the station so I was stuck in a great big, big building all by myself. Eventually I was transferred to a place named Oakington.
I recall that during our bomb aiming training, on my first flight with live ordinance, I believed I had dropped the bomb on the target, but as we were returning to base we realised that the aircraft wasn’t handling properly and indeed the bomb was still attached! I said to my pilot, ‘I don't believe the bomb is gone!’ Now at this stage we
were at 30,000 feet and I said let's go down another 10,000 feet because I suspected that ice was the cause of the problem. When we had descended to 20,000 feet I pressed the button again and the aircraft jumped up about 4000 feet as the bomb left us. After that experience we never had any doubts as to whether or not the bomb had gone.
All in all I flew 50 sorties during the war. I think my most dangerous moment was over Hamburg. We lost one of our engines hit by flak, the starboard engine as I recall, and that occurred at 25,000 feet. Then suddenly the second engine packed up apparently because of an airlock. So we were just gliding with no engines at all. By now we were over the North Sea and the pilot told me to prepare to bail out. I said ‘Master, you can bail out but I not bailing out’. This was one time I was not obeying any instructions, because when you looked down below you know it was as black as pitch, it being two o'clock in the morning. No way was I going to bail out at night in the winter over the North Sea ‐ I would prefer to die in my plane.
When we got to 5000 feet the blockage cleared up and engine started and we were able to land on an emergency strip on the east coast of England. You see no matter how bad things get there is always a chance something will happen and you will scrape through. I just wasn't prepared to bail out because you had no chance of surviving you would freeze to death in two minutes in the water.
I also recall another occasion when we lost an engine and had to turn back to the UK. Now, each squadron leaving the UK had a designated re‐entry point at which you could fly back in to the UK. As long as you flew on the correct course you were expected, but if you were tempted to return on another route there was always a chance that the gunners on the ground will treat you as an enemy aircraft. As we hit the coast on this flight the English antiaircraft batteries, or ‘ack‐ack’, opened fire on us. But fortunately we always carried a Verey pistol with the flare of the day, a specific colour that everyone knew, and as soon as I fired that thing the anti‐aircraft firing stopped as though by magic.
I remember that I flew as part of a force of 30 mosquitoes to mark the target at Cologne for one of the thousand bomber raids. Well I'll just let you imagine what happens when 30 aircraft attack a target that’s defended by 600 guns. And yet, as we left the area weaving and turning violently to avoid the enemy fire I saw one aircraft circling the target, taking a look. It turned out to be one of the squadron commanders. Of course, he was shot down and killed.
When I got back to Jamaica I didn't find the adjustment difficult, but I had a hell of a time getting a job. At every interview I was told that I had a brilliant war record and that they had no place for someone like me.
I was at a gathering recently when a fellow came up to me and said “Oh! So you are one of those who went to fight for King and country.” I got very angry and I told him in no uncertain manner that I did not go to fight for King and country, I went to fight for myself. I went to fight for freedom, for Jamaica, and for all the little countries of the world that would otherwise be controlled by bullies.
John Ebanks 1997
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Title
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The Story of Flight Lieutenant John J Blair, DFC
102 (Ceylon) Squadron and 216 Squadron
Description
An account of the resource
A 52 page document detailing the history of John Blair's RAF service from 1942 to 1963, and his childhood in Jamaica. Introductory note says it was based on a taped interview with John Blair by his nephew in 1997.
John was born in 1919 to a poor but educated family. He was the youngest of eight children. At the age of 17 he started training as a teacher but war had broken out. He was accepted by the RAF as aircrew and after brief training in Jamaica was shipped to New Orleans then onward to Canada.
He trained as a Navigator and after crew selection at Kinloss, training on Whitleys he was sent to Pocklington, Yorkshire.
He completed 33 operations - there is great detail about the operations.
After the war he transferred to Transport Command and flew Hastings and Comets around the world. He was a successful athlete for the RAF.
Included is a eulogy for John written by his nephew, Mark Johnson.
An appendix covers a colleague, John Ebanks who served as a bomb aimer at RAF Oakington. He undertook 50 operations.
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Mark Johnson
Date
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2008
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52 typewritten sheets
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eng
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Text. Memoir
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MBlairJJ[Ser#-DoB]-160509-01
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Civilian
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Air Force. Transport Command
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Great Britain
England--London
Jamaica--Pedro Plains
Cayman Islands
Jamaica--Ocho Rios
Jamaica--Kingston
Belize
United States
Louisiana--New Orleans
New York (State)--New York
Canada
New Brunswick--Moncton
Ontario--Ottawa
Québec--Montréal
Ontario--Toronto
Nova Scotia--Halifax
Iceland
England--Yorkshire
Sri Lanka
West Indies
Australia
New Zealand
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Munich
Italy--Turin
Italy--Genoa
Italy--Milan
Germany--Mülheim an der Ruhr
Germany--Koblenz
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Magdeburg
British Columbia--Vancouver
England--Liverpool
France--Ardennes
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Essen
Germany--Ludwigshafen am Rhein
Germany--Saarbrücken
Germany--Dülmen
Germany--Gelsenkirchen
Germany--Stuttgart
Germany--Wanne-Eickel
Germany--Goch
Germany--Bonn
Germany--Reichswald
Germany--Kleve (North Rhine-Westphalia)
Germany--Worms
Germany--Kamen
Germany--Chemnitz
Germany--Flensburg
Germany--Wuppertal
Germany--Bottrop
Germany--Witten
Italy--Naples
France--Marseille
Europe--English Channel Region
China--Hong Kong
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany
Jamaica
Italy
France
Germany--Osnabrück
Jamaica--Saint Elizabeth
Germany--Nuremberg
Germany--Wangerooge Island
Louisiana
New York (State)
Ontario
Québec
New Brunswick
Nova Scotia
China
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Lancashire
Jamaica--Saint Ann's Bay
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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.
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IBCC Digital Archive
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David Bloomfield
102 Squadron
216 Squadron
4 Group
78 Squadron
African heritage
air gunner
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
bomb aimer
bombing
bombing of Helgoland (18 April 1945)
Conspicuous Gallantry Medal
crewing up
demobilisation
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
entertainment
Gee
ground personnel
Halifax
Halifax Mk 3
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
incendiary device
Ju 88
killed in action
Lancaster
medical officer
mid-air collision
military service conditions
mine laying
missing in action
Mosquito
navigator
Pathfinders
pilot
prisoner of war
radar
RAF Kinloss
RAF Oakington
RAF Pocklington
RAF Tangmere
searchlight
sport
training
Whitley
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/158/1964/AWilsonJM160121.1.mp3
cb40304a764a6e6244db3dc9d8fc9ac4
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Wilson, Joan
Joan Wilson
Joan M Hill
Description
An account of the resource
Two items. An oral history interview with Joan Mary Wilson (486004 I, Royal Air Force) and one photograph. Joan was a wireless operator in the Women's Auxiliary Air Force and served in 5 Group.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Joan M Wilson and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Date
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2016-01-21
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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.
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Wilson, JM
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IBCC Digital Archive
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
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MC: This interview is being conducted on behalf of the International Bomber Command Centre. The interviewer is Mike Connock and the interviewee is Mrs Joan Wilson. The interview is taking place at Mrs Wilson’s home in Lincoln on Thursday 21st of January 2016. We can start. So I mean if you could tell me just a bit about when and where you were born?
JW: I was born at Nettleham about five miles from Lincoln in December 1920. The second child of my parents but my mother died when I was a baby. But I was fortunate. My father married again and my stepmother was very good as a stepmother. Unfortunately, they had a child of their own that I was very jealous of and that wasn’t too good. But my mother always, well my step mother always said I was the clever one and when I got a scholarship when I was ten to South Park they thought, you know, I was wonderful because it was a grammar school.
MC: You enjoyed your school days.
JW: I did. At South Park. I hated it until then. Because I was a very shy mousy little girl and St Andrews Church School was a big school. And the teachers didn’t mind giving you a slap if they felt like it. And then when I got to South Park it was so much gentler and quieter. And classes of only eighteen or twenty. I was a bit of a rebel because in my class of eighteen or twenty there were at least five girls called Joan. And we used to sit on the back row so that if the teacher said, ‘Joan,’ at least three of us would stand up. Until we were all separated. And that went on all the time I was at South Park. I left school when I was sixteen because my parents couldn’t afford to keep me at school any longer.
MC: What did your parents – what did your father do for work?
JW: He was a woodworker at Newsomes. A wood machinist at Newsomes. Which is probably why I love anything made of wood. Children’s toys and everything. I’ve a doll’s house in there that the children play with and all the furniture is wood. Crudely cut. But it is wood. Not plastic.
MC: So you left school at sixteen.
JW: I left school at sixteen. I went to train as a nanny. As a children’s nurse at a Church of England group down in Surrey. Unfortunately, after twelve months I caught diphtheria so I never finished the course. I caught it from then. But I became a private nanny to a little girl in Keighley. I stayed there until 1940. When I thought it was time I did something for the war effort. So I went to work in a children’s home and I stayed there until I thought somebody older could do this and I decided to try and join the RAF. Amy Johnson had been my heroine as a child. I’d always wanted to fly. And of course living in Lincoln I saw lots of planes. When I first went to work in Keighley I couldn’t understand why people on a Thursday afternoon would stand in the main street and look up at the sky. But that was when the mail plane went over. Once a week. And that’s the only plane they ever saw whereas I was used to them practicing at Waddington even in those days. Anyway, I decided to try and join the RAF. Unfortunately, at that time they weren’t recruiting for the RAF but I went along nevertheless. And because of my, they got it all wrong, but because of my nursing experience they decided yes, I could join the RAF as a nurse. I mean I’d never done any actual nursing. Only looked after children. But out of about forty of us who were interviewed that day three of us were chosen for the RAF. One because she had already got a driver’s licence or perhaps they didn’t have licences but she could drive and the other one because she had been in the navy and bought herself out and could do Morse. So the three of us ended up in the RAF. Well, one of the reasons I wanted to join the RAF was because I wanted to see something of England or Scotland. You didn’t look any further than that in those days.
MC: Because at that time it would be the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force.
JW: It was. WAAF. Yeah. WAAF. And anyway the three of us remained as, more or less, friends for quite a long while. We all ended up in Blackpool training as wireless operators despite us all wanting to be different. The last thing I ever wanted to be was a wireless operator. It had taken me two years as a Girl Guide to learn Morse. There I was having to do it all over again. I had six months at Blackpool and then a few weeks — I think it was Compton Bassett but I’m not really sure. It was somewhere down south anyway. And that’s when we got our posting. And I thought at last. Imagine what it was like when I found I was posted seven miles from Lincoln. To Morton Hall. I couldn’t believe it. I really couldn’t. Partly because if the journey was going to take more than eight hours you were given rations. And I was given rations. But the journey from London to Lincoln didn’t take eight hours. I spent most of it at home. And then eventually reported.
MC: Did you do any basic training? You know. Drill training.
JW: Oh yes. That was in Gloucester. Somewhere Gloucestershire. Yes. I did. Oh yes I learned how to march and how to salute and form fours and all the rest of it. Yes. That was before I was posted. Yes. I missed that bit out. I did my basic training and then I was posted to Cranwell. Just to fill my time in until my Morse.
MC: Until you learned Morse.
JW: Training started and I had about three months there just wasting time. Running errands and but at least I did see the college and things like that.
MC: So your wireless operator training was in Blackpool?
JW: That was the Morse training yes.
MC: Morse training.
JW: Yeah. And also [pause] I can’t remember the procedure and something else. There was three different courses going on. The Morse was done at the Blackpool Tower Ballroom. And that’s where we got paid as well. At Blackpool. At there.
MC: So how long were you there for?
JW: Six months. Three months before Christmas so that we got Christmas leave and then three months after and then after that, as I said it was a few weeks. I’m almost sure it was Compton Bassett. It was some place like that.
MC: The radio school was at Compton.
JW: Yes. Well it would be there then. For seven weeks I was there. And then I passed out from there at eighteen words a minute.
MC: There was another one at Yatesbury as well.
JW: No. I’m almost sure it was.
MC: It would be probably Compton Bassett. Yeah.
JW: And as I say, then to my horror I was posted to Morton Hall. I got to Morton Hall and of course I was the lowest of the low. ACW2. All these other blokes on my watch they’d all had oak leaves because they’d been in for the Dambuster raid and all this, that and the other and there was me straight from training school. So most of the time I ran messages, I made the tea, I did the cooking on night watch. I mean would you believe it when you were on the night watch and I can’t remember what hours they were we were issued with rations. Well, it was so ridiculous because I mean we had a meal before we went on and there was breakfast when we came off. And really all we wanted was a cup of tea in between. So my parent’s benefited by extra liver, and sausage and various things that we were given and didn’t eat. Rather than waste it. And I was the only one who lived locally. It did mean I didn’t take part in much that went on in the way of social activities because I went home. And as I say my time actually in 5 Group was very humdrum but I did have one real excitement. On D-day plus one we had to keep radio silence so most of us just fiddled around with spare Morse keys you know. Playing about. There was only one magazine in the section that we could copy Morse from and it was called, “Maria and the Red Barn.” It was a real penny dreadful. I don’t know what the story was about but the cover was a very lurid one. A half naked woman covered in blood. Anyway, we were all fiddling about. Really bored. Doing nothing. And the radio officer burst in to the room and said, ‘Stop bombing. Stop bombing. In plain language to all. On all your keys.’ And what had happened was that our lads had gone further and we were bombing them. And that really was the most exciting day I had at Bomber Command.
MC: So when, when did you go to Morton Hall?
JW: Well now let me see. The end of January would see my — the end of March would see my course. March. April. May I should think.
MC: This was what year?
JW: ’44.
MC: ’44. Yeah.
JW: By then.
MC: So you joined. When did you actually joined did you say? Because you said about 1940 you said you decided you’d want to join.
JW: Yeah. But it was after that that I actually got in.
MC: Yeah. Yeah. That’s fine. That’s fine.
JW: I can’t remember.
MC: No. No. It’s —
JW: I’ve got my pay book somewhere. But I don’t know where.
MC: So you were at Morton Hall during D-day.
JW: I was. Yes. Yes. But while I was there I put in for every posting possible because I wanted to travel. Eventually I did get the posting I wanted. To the Far East. And I went to Ceylon. Sri Lanka now. I had —
MC: What year was that? That was in ’44 was it?
JW: It was ‘44/45 [pause] yes. Because in ’46 I went to Hong Kong. So that was after the atom bomb had been dropped. And I think I’m one of the few people who agree with the atom bomb being dropped. But while I was in Ceylon we had some of the people who were ex-prisoners of war came in. And although they’d already been in hospital and supposed to have been well fed they were still skin and bone. And they wanted to touch you. They were, in a way, not quite normal. It must have taken them a long while to get back so if the atom bomb stopped one person from that I was pleased. It was a horrible thing. Really horrible. But something had to be done.
MC: So you were a wireless operator in Ceylon doing —
JW: I was a wireless operator. Still more or less doing what I’d done here. Taking wind messages. It was an odd set up because there was only one person on duty at a time. So I was utterly spoilt because I was in one room and all the weather people were in the other room and I was taking mostly wind reports from all over the world. I can’t remember the name of them now. I know Port Moresby was one of the places that we took wind reports from.
MC: So whereabouts in Ceylon were you?
JW: Colombo. And then the last two months I was in Kandy. So I saw the Temple of the Tooth.
MC: So you enjoyed your time in Ceylon.
JW: I loved it. I loved it. I loved Ceylon. And if I’d ever had the chance to go back I’d have liked to have done. My parents, my daughter of course was brought up on stories of Ceylon so as soon as they could she and her husband they went out to Ceylon for a holiday. But, anyway part of the reason that I loved Ceylon apart from the country and the people was the fact that I joined what we called the Rover Ranger Scout Crew. I’d been a Girl Guide and one of the first notices up in the section when we arrived there was an invitation to join this group. I was the only WAAF that went. There were quite a lot of nurses and WRENs in the group. And it was fine because we weren’t allowed out after sundown without a male escort. How the hell do you find a male escort when you’re just suddenly dumped there? But I was lucky because one of the crew would always come and collect me and sign me out and bring me back. Unfortunately, after a week in Ceylon I was involved in a motor accident. We [pause] we were invited to a unit that was the, it was a signals unit and it was more or less a case of you, you and you go. So I was one that had to go. They needed some females because it was an all male unit. And on the way back from there we were in one of these lorries that had the sort of canvas sides. You know the sort. A frame with a canvas on and at the last minute I needed to go to the loo. So I was sitting right on the end and I had to sit on someone’s knee because by then it was full. And a small car smashed in to us, quite near the WAAF’ery. And I was thrown. I sensed it was coming somehow and fell limply. And I got up. I was covered in blood but it wasn’t mine. I had a scratch. Well, a big hole in one leg. Two people died and I know one, I’ll never forget her, the girl, her head was smashed in and her brains were coming. It was a horrible sight. Something you never forget.
MC: No.
JW: Never. I don’t know what I did. I was in a daze. I know two or three days later one man came to me. An RAF bloke came to me and said thank you for trying to help so and so. I said, ‘Well I honestly don’t know what I did. I was in a daze myself.’ Just being involved in this accident. Seen two people dead. Not knowing. I was the only one who actually walked away from it. Everybody else was in hospital. But I had nightmares for days after. But I got over that. One very exciting thing that happened while I was in Ceylon. The crew were invited to this man’s bungalow. When I say bungalow it was a great big rambling place. Beautiful grounds. He had an orchid garden where there were orchids from that big to that big in rows. Like you get the tulips at Spalding. Actually it put me off orchids because these big ones were almost like rampaging beasts. I loved the little ones. But the meal, a meal was laid out for us in these ground on these long tables. Beautiful white tablecloths. Boys dressed in sort of raj’s uniforms served us. One — and there were little patties in dishes on the tables. One of the crew took a bite and it was so hot he had a drink out of the fingerbowl [laughs] But I can’t remember much about the meal but afterwards the owner of the place asked a few of us to go with him and we went into the bungalow and he showed us this sword and it was the sword he had been knighted with by George VI. And the hilt had a sample of all the jewels you could find in Ceylon. They were only semi-precious but it was absolutely beautiful. I’ve no idea who he was. No way of finding out because I’m the last of the crew to be alive I’m afraid. Everybody else has gone.
MC: So you refer to the crew. How was the crew made up? What was the crew?
JW: They were all Scouts. Ex-Scouts.
MC: Oh the Scout crew. Yeah.
JW: Yes. All ex-Scouts or ex-Guides. Yes. Because that was in the days when you could be a Scout until you died whereas nowadays you’re a Senior scout and somebody else and somebody else. Because of that my daughter was brought up very much in Guiding and now she’s in Scouting. My two youngest, my two, three eldest great grandchildren are all in Beavers. And so it goes on. I’m rambling aren’t I? Anyway, that’s more or less —
MC: So you — when did you leave Ceylon?
JW: I left Ceylon after the atom bomb had dropped. 1946.
MC: And then you went to Hong Kong.
JW: And I went to Hong Kong. I had six months in Hong Kong. It was like a building site.
MC: Really.
JW: There was nothing. I mean the people were camping on the pavements. They were skin and bone. They were camping on the roofs of buildings. And I did meet someone there. Eugenie Coupland who had been in the camp at the end of Hong Kong. What was it called? I can’t remember what it was called now but it was the civilian internment camp. I did go up to it which [pause] there was a lady whose husband had died in the camp and she very much wanted to go up and see his burial ground. And so the crew took her up. We’d managed to get hold of a jeep because it’s high up. The camp was. I wish I could remember what it was called now. It was right on the edge of the island. I mean it was a sheer drop in to the sea from the camp. And we took this lady up and we saw this horrible place. But Eugenie Coupland who had been interned there said they weren’t actually badly treated. It was just that food was so short. She had her little boy with her and she said the English girls who’d been in Hong Kong for Christmas. It was Christmas Day when Hong Kong was taken and she said they were fantastic. These were girls who had been at boarding school. Probably never done a thing for themselves in their lives. But she said they were wonderful. They started schools for the children. They gathered grass and any greenery they could find and cooked it down for extra food. And she said they did get the, occasionally, Red Cross parcel and they’d save the brown paper for the children to draw on and everything. She said they were absolutely wonderful these girls.
MC: So at that time that must have been quite an experience for you to be in Hong Kong. You know. To see what was the aftermath.
JW: It was. It was. And while I was there I joined another Rover Ranger crew there. Once more I was the only girl in that one because there weren’t very many women sent out there. The ATS came out actually and we, we had to, you know, be good to them. Serve them and all the rest of it but they only stayed two or three days and then they went off again. They couldn’t take the heat. We also had some American girls and the same thing with them. They couldn’t take the heat. Whereas I could stand the heat. It’s the cold I can’t stand. Then I go and marry someone who spent his time in Iceland don’t I?
MC: So when did you meet your husband then?
JW: Oh a long while after the war.
MC: Oh I see. So from Hong Kong you came home.
JW: I came back to England. Yes. And went to work at Ruston’s of all places.
MC: So what year was that? When did you come back?
JW: 1946.
MC: You came back in ’46.
JW: Yes. The end.
MC: And you came out the air force then.
JW: Yes. October I think it was. Yes. I got home just after my mother’s birthday. Yes. So that would be October 1946. And I was very thin then because of the heat. Well, about what I am now I think. I mean after that I started packing it on.
MC: So you —
JW: I went to my old job in Keighley for a little while. By which time the little girl I had taken earlier and taught her first lessons was away at boarding school but they had another little girl. So I had a year with her before she went off to boarding school and then I came back to Lincoln and went to work at Ruston’s. And that’s where I met my husband but not until 1956. My daughter was born a year later. And my husband was one of those who would not allow me to go out to work. So we struggled on his money but he was adamant.
MC: What did he do?
JW: He worked at Ruston’s. He was in the office there. But he was quite badly wounded during the war. All down his left side.
MC: And what was he in?
JW: He was in the Anglians. And he went over in D-day plus one. He was one of the ones that got bombed but by the Americans. Not the British. And it was the Americans actually that saved his life eventually. That and penicillin because it was just at the experimental stages. He [pause] he was shelled and the whole group were wiped out. The American burial party came to collect the bodies. And they collected Alf and he said, ‘I’m not dead yet.’ So they managed to get him to, onto a transport. And my husband said that was awful because they were these flat things that they used to carry bombs on. They just were laid on that and he said if you rolled off that was it because there’d would be others following. You’d be in convoy and they’d not stop to pick you up. Anyway, he got back to England and was more or less messing around until the end of the war then. We married and my daughter was born thirteen months later. We only had the one child.
MC: You said, let’s go back a little bit. You said you were in Morton Hall.
JW: Yes.
MC: Part of 5 Group was that?
JW: Yes. It was 5 Group headquarters.
MC: Oh right. Was it? Yes. Of course it would be. Yes.
JW: Yes. Yes. Yes.
MC: So and so when you went to Ceylon who were you with? What —
JW: South East Asia Command I suppose.
MC: Yeah. Yeah. I guess that would be the case. Yes.
JW: Yes.
MC: Yeah. And the same with Hong Kong.
JW: Yes. Mountbatten was my boss.
MC: There you go, you see. Yeah. That’s, that’s lovely.
JW: Yes he took the Victory Parade you know.
MC: So travelling to Ceylon and Hong Kong. How did you get there?
JW: To Ceylon we went by boat. And it was Christmas. We had Christmas on the Mediterranean. People had told me that the Mediterranean was always blue. It wasn’t. It was dark grey, murky and horrible. And it was supposed to have been cleared of submarines and we got one following us. A stray. Didn’t do anything. But it did mean that we had to keep silence. And the boat we sailed on was called the Johan van or von Oldenbarnevelt. John the old man in the field somebody translated it as. We had to learn the Dutch national anthem phonetically so that we could sing it for them because it was a Dutch boat. Very clean boat. And we had [pause] took us four weeks to get there. And we arrived and we were paraded in the boiling sun. No shade on this parade ground at the WAAF’ery. And we were told if we got sunburned it was a criminal offence. And I thought yeah and here we are. I mean luckily I’m dark but some of the fair girls were fainting. But —
MC: And you’d just arrived as well.
JW: Yes. Yeah. Mind you I mean we got used to a certain amount of heat on the boat. We had been issued with shorts. Men’s shorts. One of the first things we did when we got to Ceylon was to be told to go to a certain tailor’s and take somebody with you and be measured for trousers and shorts. Had to wear trousers because of mosquitoes of course.
MC: Yeah. So the, from Ceylon you went, how did you get to Hong Kong then? Did you go by boat?
JW: No. We went by flying boat.
MC: Oh. Flying boat.
JW: Yes. Yes.
MC: That was an experience.
JW: It was. There were twelve of us went. There should have been thirteen but for some reason or other one girl had to drop out so there were twelve of us went. And for some reason or other my friend and I were allocated the crew’s quarters where there were two bunks. The rest sat in the tail of the plane. I never went so I’m not sure exactly how they slept or if they slept. Because we went overnight and I know during the night I woke up and I saw this, the assistant pilot throwing things out of the window. That’s how low we flew in those days. You could open a window [laughs] And he was throwing things out of the window. And I remember thinking now are we going to crash and are they throwing things out. Anyway, I thought well if I’m going to die in my sleep. So I turned over and went to sleep again. And when I woke up the next morning apparently they were things to tell which way the wind was blowing ready for when we landed. And we landed —
MC: So how long was that flight then?
JW: Twelve hours. Well eleven if you count the fact that we altered the clocks.
MC: The clocks.
JW: But it was twelve hours actually in the air yeah. And that was by Flying Boat. So we came to rest on the lake and I was violently sea sick. One of the few who hadn’t been air sick but I made up for it. A jeep came to take us off. As I say I just managed to vomit in the sea. So that was my arrival in Ceylon.
MC: You don’t know what type of sort of Flying Boat it was. I suspect it probably would have been a Sunderland or something.
JW: It was a Sunderland. It was a Sunderland Flying Boat.
MC: Yes.
JW: Yes. Yeah. So they tell me. But that’s how I arrived in Hong Kong. We did have a stopover in Singapore on the way to Hong Kong. And they tell me it’s a beautiful city now but what I saw of it it was a really filthy hole. There was the [pause] oh dear what do you call the place where we went for a cup of tea. A man’s name. It’s very famous and I can’t remember it. And you know it as well. Everybody knows it. We did go there. And because I’ve told you about the crew well we were looking around the cathedral in Singapore and then this voice hailed me. It was one of the crew and they were going home but they were going over the Pacific. They were going that way. So they’d done around the world. But I was on my way to Hong Kong. I can’t get —
MC: I think it might have been Raffles.
JW: It was Raffles. Yes. I’d nearly got it hadn’t I. We did manage to get there.
MC: You had tea in Raffles.
JW: Yes. Yeah. But as I say as regards the city I thought there was some beetle juice all over the place. You know, they chew beetle juice and then spit it out and it’s like red blotches all over the place. And there was, and they spit it out then you see. And there was chewing gum. It was very very dirty but they tell me it’s beautiful now. Of course they’ve stopped spitting. That’s not allowed. I mean it went on in Ceylon as well. But then it rained often enough to wash it away.
MC: So the climate in Ceylon wasn’t, it was hot but quite often —
JW: I could take it. I loved it. Yes. Yes. And I liked, I liked the job I was doing there. As I say I was taking wind reports mostly. As I had done and I did eventually get someone to take my test so that I did become an LACW or else I should have ended my time as an ACW2.
MC: So you finished up as an LAC then.
JW: I did. Yes. Yes. Yes.
MC: Well that’s lovely. Thank you Joan. I mean it’s a super story.
JW: I hope I haven’t wasted your time.
MC: So you talked about Morton Hall. Were you doing the same thing? Wind. What reports were you doing?
JW: Mostly wind reports yes.
MC: The were wind reports.
JW: Which I was able to take to the ops rooms you see. Yes. They were [pause] I think there were six, six digits. Do you know I can’t really remember now but in Ceylon I was taking two hundred word reports you see because it was from all over. They would gather them up and send them over.
MC: Yeah. That’s a lovely story Joan. Thank you very much.
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 Joan Wilson
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-01-21
Format
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00:37:26 audio recording
Creator
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Mike Connock
Language
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eng
Identifier
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AWilsonJM160121
Type
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Sound
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
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.
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending review
Description
An account of the resource
Joan Wilson was born in Nettleham near Lincoln. She joined the Women’s Auxilliary Air Force and served as a wireless operator at RAF Morton Hall. The day following the Normandy landings, she had to send an urgent signal to all aircraft, to stop bombing because the Allies had progressed further than expected. After the war she was posted to Ceylon, where she witnessed the state of prisoners who had been held by the Japanese. After Ceylon she was posted to Hong Kong.
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
China
Great Britain
Sri Lanka
England--Lincolnshire
China--Hong Kong
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-06-07
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Julie Williams
aircrew
ground personnel
Morse-keyed wireless telegraphy
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
prisoner of war
RAF Morton Hall
wireless operator
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/495/17727/MCollerAS1874018-170424-01.1.pdf
8188c412dcec5b5884c122edf2e0a0e2
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
Coller, Allan Stanley
A S Coller
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Coller, AS
Description
An account of the resource
17 items. An oral history interview with Allan Coller (1924, 1874018 Royal Air Force). Also a number of other items associated with the Air Cadets and his service in Sri Lanka and India including a scrapbook of photographs.
The collection has been licenced to the IBCC Digital Archive by Allan Coller and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
RAF Kankesanturai Christmas Card 1945
Description
An account of the resource
A Christmas card issued by the RAF station with details of the events happening over Christmas, social and sporting. There are also adverts for church services and various merchants and a book shop.
Creator
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RAF Kankesanturai
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1945
Format
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Four double sided printed sheets
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Identifier
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MCollerAS1874018-170424-01
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.
Sri Lanka--Kankesanturai
Sri Lanka
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
aircrew
entertainment
sport
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/495/17728/MCollerAS1874018-170424-02.2.pdf
d68f63d13c9561b1b82ff27e8632f072
Dublin Core
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Title
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Coller, Allan Stanley
A S Coller
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
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Coller, AS
Description
An account of the resource
17 items. An oral history interview with Allan Coller (1924, 1874018 Royal Air Force). Also a number of other items associated with the Air Cadets and his service in Sri Lanka and India including a scrapbook of photographs.
The collection has been licenced to the IBCC Digital Archive by Allan Coller and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Transcribed document
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
KANDY CALLING
[picture]
Vol. II. No. 7 SEPTEMBER, 1946 Price 50 cts.
FROM THE OFFICE
FORTHCOMING MARRIAGE
We have great pleasure in announcing the forthcoming marriage between LACW “Johnny” Marshall, the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Marshall of Coventry, and Major Phillip W. Hay-Jahans of the 4/9 Gurkha Rifles. They hope to be married in Delhi when Johnny gets her local release in about three weeks’ time. Best of luck, Johnny.
COMPETITION RESULTS
The results of the competition are published on page 24. Need we point out that the Editors’ decision is final? Please!
Round the Bend
Thanks to F/T Miller’s work, we are able to present to you the only example in captivity of a man’s subconscious mind. It is also, by the way, a genuine “doodling” pad.
[page break]
Kandy Calling
THE MAGAZINE of ROYAL AIR FORCE STATION KANDY
Edited by:-
FLIGHTLIEUT. R.H.C. LEWIS
FLIGHT LIEUT. W.G. EWEN
FLIGHT SERGEANT C. NEILL
By permission of the Commanding Officer
Permission to reprint part or whole of any feature from this magazine must in the first instance be obtained from the Editor of KANDY CALLING
The Editor does not necessarily agree with the opinions of contributors expressed in this magazine
[page break]
KANDY CALLING
Between You & Me
By the Editor
THIS is our swan-song. Kandy Calling under its present name, makes its exit after a short and somewhat eventful life. In a few weeks R.A.F. Kandy will be completely closed down. Most, if not all, of us will be sorry to leave the hill country, and certainly none of us are looking forward to the prickly heat of the coast. So far reports of our future “home” have shown that in a good number of respects it will be better than Kandy, and that in others it will not be so good; at any rate Sergeant Bob Bedford thinks we will do quite well for sports facilities. Another consolation is that we shall have good swimming facilities there and, with a little co-operation from the transport section, we will be in reach of the “Big City” Colombo.
This, then, is the last issue of Kandy Calling as such. It seems a far cry from the first duplicated issue to this present edition. The station first heard the name Kandy Calling on February 2nd, when Aircraftsman Harry Ludlam and Aircraftsman Rex Allett launched their magazine from the Roneo. Flying Officer Don Cowley and Aircraftsman Eric Hedges did a lot for the paper, putting it into print and changing its style. Flying Officer Cowley left us a few weeks back, leaving Flight Sergeant Chas. Neill, previously his assistant, to change the style again from that of a newspaper to a magazine. Now we have the new editorial board.
From the comments on the last issue most of the station seemed to like the new format, though one of our correspondents airs a general opinion when he says the magazine lacks variety. We have taken the criticism to heart. We have been able to include quite a lot of Section news, thanks to our section reporters – keep it up, and lets have some “gen” from the other sections for our next issue.
We wish to thank the Photographic Section too for their part in the production of the illustrated supplement. It may serve as a reminder to us, when Ceylon is a memory, of what Kandy was like. Shall we ever really forget it? If there is a demand we could get extra copies of the supplement printed separately.
See you all at Katukurunda. E.K.C.
[page break]
So This is Ceylon!
The same dust, unpleasant odours,
Jumbled Shops and hapless loafers;
Where is the beauty of Ceylon?
Gharries race with shrieking horns,
Driving rickshaws into gutters;
Half-starved dogs and ragged children
Slink away to mutthi hovels;
Where is the beauty of Ceylon?
Bullock carts rumble just the same,
Buffalos plod whilst drivers grumble;
Weary women with heavy burden
Follow their men in dreary custom;
Where is the beauty of Ceylon?
But out of the heat and fetid bustle,
Away from the crowd and side-walk tussle,
Lies a lake of silver in a perfect setting;
Here is the beauty of Ceylon.
Dedication of a Prince’s love,
Watched by the Temple of the Tooth,
This lovely pool with emerald Isle,
Its surface thrilled by each enraptured sigh;
Here is the beauty of Ceylon.
From the waters edge to the very sky,
Racing upwards mountains vie with jungle
Growth of many hues seeking to catch the fleeting clouds.
Here is the beauty of Ceylon.
Coconut palms in orderly rows
March upwards to flight through rubber tree groves,
And still they reach through scrub and bush
To raise their green fronds in majesty;
But away to the south they run down again
Down to the river in the vale,
Where elephants wallow and crocodiles laze,
Away past the huts with their roofs of thatch
To shelter the shrine of Buddha’s caste;
Here, too, is the beauty of Ceylon.
KANDY March 1945.
2
[page break]
And so We say Farewell . . .
By David Ross
It’s a hundred to one you’d never heard of the place before you arrived, and the chances of Kandy ever winning a U.K. headline after we’re gone are pretty remote. Our Town is just one of those places that was bounced around by the war, like a good-time girl, and is not very certain what tomorrow holds.
Let us consider, for a moment, the story of Kandy.
Ceylon was surrendered by the Dutch to the British in in 1796, when Holland had been overrun by the French Revolutionaries and was unable to take care of her Imperial conquests. At the subsequent peace treaty in 1802 it was retains as a British possession. But for thirteen years after that the hill peoples held their independence and eventually, after a resistance lasting in all for 300 years against first Portugese [sic], then Dutch and finally British invaders, signed a treaty in which the British Government guaranteed to “devote Kandyan revenue to the improvement and administration of the Kandyan Kingdom alone, and to uphold the dignity and power of the Kandyans as a nation.”
But, in fact, just the opposite has happened. As the Colonial Office report on Ceylon frankly admits: “The inevitable backwardness of a hill country population, as compared with its maritime neighbours, was accentuated by the spread of educational, health, agricultural and economic facilities through the relatively thickly-populated and accessible low-country much earlier, and on a far larger scale, than was possible in the interior. By various means which, to say the least, were prejudicial to the Kandyan landowners, land was acquired to form large estates, first for the planting of coffee and later tea and rubber.”
This, then, was where we came in. We found a poor but proud people, nurturing the memory of their past, of the days when they had been rich, had their own king and had hurled defiance at the European merchants who had come looking for spices.
It must have been a mysterious day for the Kandyans when the staff officers of the three headquarters – S.A.C.S.E.A., A.L.F.S.E.A. and A.C.S.E.A. – with their ratings and wrens, soldiers and A.T.S., airmen and W.A.A.F.’s and G.I.’s and W.A.C.S. – the latter from a country that had not even been discovered when Ceylon was great – arrived to direct a war against another nation 10,000 miles away from their coconut groves. But it meant prosperity and it meant fame. The very simplicity of the name of the town, standing out from amid the jumble of poly-syllabic monstrosities
3
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KANDY CALLING
that blotch across the map of S.E. Asia, had a friendly note, and it was soon a by-word in Whitehall and Arakan, in Fleet St. and Luzon.
Many, many thousands of men and women must have passed through its winding streets in the last two years, and the Perahera will be told of in many a British pub. and American drug-store for years to come.
They will tell, too, of the island on the lake where the kings kept their harems; of a library that had once been a bathing pavilion for queens who were liable to be drowned (if they displeased) in the great artificial lake that is now the the [sic] town’s reservoir; of the temple where the High Priest has palm-leaf bibles claimed to be 600 years old and a tooth sworn to be a relic of “Buddha the All-Knowing”; of the last monarch whose descendants are living in banishment in Southern India; of the visitors’ book containing the signatures of Bernard Shaw, Ramsay MacDonald, Lloyd George, President Wilson of America, the Duke of Gloucester and the Duke of Windsor and of a naval commander named Mountbatten who visited the town in 1934; and they will remember, too, the easy-going, friendly people of Ceylon who welcomed them when practically every other country in the Far East was occupied by, or friendly to the Japanese.
Kandy has had a long and proud history and is today facing the return from its brief war-time glamour to obscurity.
It will be many years before the hill peoples of Ceylon lose from memory the strange white men and women who wandered along back streets, ate in down-town dives, talked with the humblest and delved into the doings of the “other nation” which lives outside Cargills and Millers and the Queen’s Hotel, and works for a living.
So long, Kandy. It’s been nice knowing you.
[picture]
“It was issue!”
4
[page break]
From the School
“WHAT am I going to do when I get out?” That is a question which many of us are asking ourselves these days. Perhaps some of us are fortunate enough to have steady jobs to return to, but in many cases demobilization means a fresh start in an entirely new line. Naturally, we all want to make the best possible use of our lives, and to find a job which is both remunerative and interesting. Yet how many jobs of this kind are there? We read of countless people who are finding it difficult to settle down in civilian life, and who are having to content themselves with third-rate jobs. Why? Often it is because they are not qualified; because they have no value in the labour market. They are like thousands of other people who “haven’t got anything to sell.”
How, then, can we place a value upon ourselves? The first step is to decide upon a career with a future; a career in which there is both scope and prospects of employment. Having done this, we must find out what qualifications are necessary and decide upon the best means of obtaining these qualifications. If we have to wait for demobilization perhaps we can begin studying now and then continue, after we leave the Service, under one of the Government schemes of training.
This is where the Education Section comes into the picture. Here you will find the answer to many of your resettlement problems, and also what qualifications are necessary for the career you have in mind. You can attend classes and work for the Forces Preliminary Examination, which has the same standing as Matriculation; you can improve your mathematics if you are technically-minded; you can brush up your English if you are thinking of taking up office work, also you can leave the Service with one of our typewriting certificates. If there are no classes in your particular subject, individual tuition can be arranged, as far as possible, and there is a wide range of text-books for your use.
When we get to Katukurunda all these facilities will be available for you, plus, we hope, extra classes in Biology, Greek, Geometrical Drawing, and a much improved Art School. Our woodwork classes will also be in full swing again.
So how about it? It is obvious that the best jobs will go to those who are best qualified, and, with the raising of the general standard of education by the new Act, competition for such jobs will be great. Why not start working now while you have the chance? Then when the great day comes and you are finally released from the R.A.F., you will know where you stand in civilian life.
“HEADMASTER.”
5
[page break]
[underlined] Ceylon-Ease [/underlined]
Kandy
is handy
Nuwara Eliya
won’t feliya
Colombo’s
for jumbos
is Galle
too smalle?
I soya
kobragoya
nera
Perahera
An anomolee
in Trincomalee
says elephants
aren’t ornamhants
At Mount Lavinia
just after dinia
I met a dhobi
who knew George Rhobi
I’ve never bin
to Peradin’
said a chum
from Negom.
PUNDIT
VALE!
Dash
Ash
he’s making a splash
with all this trash
6
[page break]
KATUKURUNDA
A SPORTS REVIEW
EVERY facility is offered to the sporting enthusiast ranging from all major games to the luxury of yachting on the placid waters of the nearby river.
swimming conditions, needless to say, are ideal. A fresh water lagoon, surrounded by the all too familiar palm and coconut trees, runs down into the sea; the gentle ripples and faint breeze make it all too inviting.
Katukurunda, situated among extremely pleasant surroundings, is about three miles from the lagoon. It is well dispersed – one might even say unfortunately. On approaching the “Colony” (so named by the Navy) one passes the airstrip and hangars, and what used to be the Italian prisoner of war camp.
The “Colony” itself harbours the majority of offices (where, no doubt, a lot of you will be working), also the various messes, sleeping quarters, sports fields and the cinemas; the latter is incidentally in every way comparable to our so popular “Adastra,” here at Kandy.
Both the Soccer and Hockey fields are first class, well laid out, turfed, and full sized. One should see exciting matches in the near future.
The Hockey pitch is specially worth mentioning on its own. Situated near the officers’ quarters, it has every resembalnce [sic] to a private garden. Shrubs, flowering plants surround the entire ground, while tall shady trees complete the picture.
There are two tennis courts within the “Colony” besides three which will be available for our use at Tebuwana.
Tebuwana, by the way, is a planters’ club situated on the bank of the river, some six miles from the camp, boastisg [sic] a most excellent club house, cricket pitch, tennis courts and six hole golf course (longest drive about 260 yards). I can see some fine cricket matches and tennis tournaments between the various sections or messes being played there at week ends. Picnic parties will also have a most enjoyable time at [sic] the scenery by the river is really “wizard.” Rugby players, too, can be accommodated at the club, and should it ever be necessary, soccer matches can also be played there.
The proposed Yachting Club, I know, will attract many of you. One can almost picture the knife-like edge of a sixteen footer cutting through the gleaming waters, manned by a sun-tanned airman. From the advance party, who will have the opportunity of mixing socially with the Navy, we shall expect to hear such nautical terms as “Avast you landlubbers, “hoist the main-sails” or “Bosun’s party assemble on the poop deck.”
For those of you who may prefer something a little less spectacular, there will be canoeing. Several of these
7
[page break]
Do You Know? – No. 6
1. What is a sponge?
(a) Mineral.
(b) Animal.
(c) Plant.
2. Who is the present wife of the Film Star Brian Aherne?
3. Where is the only aluminium statue in London to be found?
4. Who wrote the following books?
(a) How Green was my Valley.
(b) None but the lonely Heart.
5. What are the present capitals of the following Countries?
(a) Tasmania.
(b) Albania.
(c) Peru.
(d) Argentine
6. Who wrote the song-hit. The White Cliffs of Dover?
7. Who was the man in charge of the Bikini Atom Bomb Test?
8. Which is the biggest Tin Mining County in England?
9. At what age are citizens of the following countries permitted to vote?
(a) Great-Britain.
(b) U.S.A.
(c) U.S.S.R.
10. A great highway has been built a thousand miles in length in a country that is largely desert. Which Country?
11. For how many years was Franklin Delano Roosevelt President of the U.S.A.?
12. How many Provinces are there in Ceylon? Can you name then?
(Answers on page 24)
(Contd. From prev. page)
little craft are being retained by the station. As to the number of boats that will be available for the Yachting Club, I do not know, and I doubt if anyone could tell you at present.
Fishing should present no difficulty; one has only to go down either to the lagoon or river where some really big fish are to be caught, providing, of course, you know how!
There is little else I can tell you about Katukurunda at the moment. Many of you will be going down yourselves in the near future, so of course will have the opportunity of drawing your own conclusions.
Perhaps I have drawn you too bright a picture! I don’t know – it remains to be seen.
R.M.B.
NEWS FLASH
We are informed from a very reliable source that Greta Garbo has been sent to Britain by the U.S. Government. She always wanted to be alone.
8
[page break]
Station Personalities
THE “ADJ”
[picture]
FLIGHT Lieutenant “Slim” Cowell can boast nine years in the R.A.F. and his youth. Born in 1922, his service career, he tells us, started at Halton in 1937 as an Aircraft Apprentice u/t Fitter Armourer. In April 1942, with the exalted rank of Corporal, he volunteered for Aircrew training; this took place under the U.S. Navy and in Canada, and he was commissioned in September, 1943. Did his “ops” with 194 Squadron, S.E.A.A.F. on Transport Support. March 1946 he arrived at Kandy for No. 3 O.A.T.S. course and after graduating remained as Station Adjutant.
He is married with one daughter and lives at Pinner, Middlesex. His favourite sport, he says, is rugby football, but may be driven into any others by a fleeting feeling of physical deterioration. We ourselves have seen him stride like a Colossus over the netball pitch. Other hobbies include reading, amateur, dramatics (he was in The Ghost Train and George and Margaret), and returning to England. He also hopes to go back to flying someday.
9
[page break]
Boxing Personalities.
I don’t know if any of you have any interest in boxing, or boxers, but I hope, during the following months, to impart some facts about boxers which will be of interest to all enthusiastic sportsmen on the camp. I intend to write every month a short article about two of the more famous boxers that have fought both in England and America, and I hope you will enjoy reading them. So here goes.
Bombardier Billy Wells
Billy Wells was a tall, clever, and scientific boxer, who really made the grade in British Championship Boxing. He had several weaknesses and drawbacks however, which undoubtedly deterred him as far as “World” boxing went. With a long chin and neck, and a body that was not heavily muscled, he was open to punishment which he was not built to absorb. Perhaps his greatest handicap was his temperament: He was the type of man who could worry over the least thing, and he often did this just before he entered the ring, with the consequence that he did not show the form and style of which he was capable.
He had a marvellous punch in both hands, and this, coupled with his cleverness, led to his often winning his fights by a knock-out.
His style and bearing intrigued the public, and he could always be counted upon to fill the house whether he was expected to win or lose, and, in my opinion, did a lot to popularise boxing.
Gene Tunney
Gene Tunney was one of the brainy type of boxers, and had a punch, in both hands, that was more powerful than was realized; so much so that Dempsey was heard to say, after his fight with Tunney, that he had never been hit so hard, and that it wasn’t a matter of feeling that he was going “out”, but he thought that he was just meeting death. Many of Tunney’s opponents retired from the ring, after a fight with him, and with serious injuries such as broken ribs or noses.
Cool and determined, Tunney used all of his brain at boxing and each more was carefully worked out. When training, he would obtain the services of a sparring partner who had previously been employed by his prospective opponent, so that he could adjust his style to better that of the other man. He would buy action films of the person he was to meet, and run them through slowly, noting the style, footwork attack and, most of all, the weaknesses of his opponent.
Unlike most boxers, he did not stick strictly to the instructions of his trainer, but would devise his own methods of improving his weak spots – hands for instance – and improved by his own initiative.
By pure grit and determination, Tunney got to the top of the ladder of boxing, and when he retired, he had amassed a large fortune.
JOHNNIE
10
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Has Impressionism come to stay?
READING a London magazine recently, I discovered rather to my surprise, that there have been produced on the London stage during the last few months several Expressionist plays, all of which seem to have met with a certain amount of success. First of all let me try to explain what an Expressionist play is, and quote one or two examples. Probably a suitable parallel is what the artist terms “Impressionism.”
Among the best of these plays is The Skin of our Teeth, a comedy by Thornton Wilder, whom you will probably know as the author of The Bridge of San Luis Rey. Others recently produced are The Wind is Ninety, an American play, and Exercise Bowler by William Templeton and Alec Clunes.
What are these plays? They dispense with as much stage scenery and as many props as possible. In the place of these conventionally accepted accoutrements of a stage play, the author substitutes the audience’s imagination. In some ways it is a reversion to the Elizabethan Theatre, when each scene was explained to the audience before it started; for in The Skin of our Teeth, the Stage Manager spends most of his time leaning on the proscenium, delivering a running commentary on the play. What is more, the audiences seem to have enjoyed this. Perhaps the willingness of the British theatregoer to use his imagination is a sign that he is not so unintelligent as some would have us believe.
Obviously, the Expressionist play places a great deal of responsibility on the author for his composition and dialogue, as it does upon the performers for their acting. There is no question of a well designed set, or extravagant production distracting the audience’s attention from weakness in the play itself. Perhaps, then, this comparatively new form of drama can, by its demands upon the playwright, serve to heighten the standards of British and American plays.
As I suggested earlier, EXpressionism [sic] in drama is very similar to IMpressionism [sic] in art, and may have developed from this, for the latter dates back to the 18th Century.
Whilst our playwright asks the audience to use its imagination, the Impressionist painter endeavours, by use of colours distributed about his canvas, to convey a picture to his spectator. He ignores form, and if you look closely at an Impressionist painting, you will see only daubs of paint; yet the final result often carries more of the “feeling” of the scene than any accurate reproduction could hope to do.
One of the earliest of the Impressionists was an Englishman, John Constable, renowned for the beauty of his landscapes, many of which were created by this method. Probably the best known of them all, was Vincent van Gogh the Dutchman, in whose steps many have followed, none with such success, however. Such paintings as van Gogh’s Cornfield with Distant Hills convey admirably the artist’s idea of the scene; yet, examined closely, this particular work will show not one single ear of corn, merely a riot of colour. There have been numerous other exponents of this form of art – Claude Monet and Cezanne, both Frenchmen, being among the more famous.
In the 20th Century however a new development of Impressionism has grown up – known as Post-Impressionism. This is probably more the counterpart of Expressionism on the stage than Impressionism itself, for the object of Post-Impressionism is to convey to the onlooker through the medium of paint not a picture of something concrete, but an idea! It is rather difficult to conceive how this can be done, and the average man is suspicious of anything so new and abstract – perhaps rightly so. To be able to convey an idea, completely divorced from things of sight, is obviously an art not acquired with ease. Likewise it is something extremely difficult to interpret and a veritable paradise for fraud and trickery. Who is there to say that one particular work is truly a demonstration of the mind and the thoughts of the artist, and not something he has produced merely in the hope of making money from it?
Much of the work of Pablo Picasso, the most publicised artist of the present day, falls under the classification of Post-Impressionism. It has often been said in criticism of Picasso that “a child could do it.” Perhaps
11
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KANDY CALLING
this is true – or perhaps Picasso and his contemporaries reached a development of thought in the world of art far ahead of the general public. Who knows?
There is no doubt that Post-Impressionism has attracted quite a large following in art circles, probably more in Britain than elsewhere. Among our own contemporaries are Paul Nash, Graham Sutherland and Henry Moore; the last two having produced a great deal during the war years, much of it concerning present day conditions and the war itself.
How should one look at a painting of this type? What can one look for? Naturally it is futile to try to recognise objects or people, for the true painting will not contain them, merely ideas. As I say, interpretation of this work is not a thing for the layman, yet I am sure that most people looking at a picture like Paul Nash’s We are Making a New World can see his illustration of the title if only the choice and positioning of the colours on the canvas. Dark greens and greys mixing with reds at the bottom, changing to brighter colours seeming like rays of light from the top of the picture.
Music too has its Impressionism, and it follows very closely the pattern of its counterparts in the other two arts I have mentioned. The Impressionist musician tries to put into his composition an idea which has come to him and to tell his listeners what the idea is, through the medium of sounds. Probably the best known of all the Impressionist compositions is L’apres Midi d’un Faune by the French composer Debussy.
There is no doubt that most people with an ordinary knowledge of music, art or drama, tend to avoid anything new or revolutionary. Very often an innovation is dismissed as rubbish without anything being known about it at all, in fact, because nothing is known about it. Impressionism has suffered this way very often.
I hope that I have in these columns succeeded at least in giving you some idea of what it is all about and what its exponents are getting at. Perhaps some of you will be interested enough to try to find out more, but at least you can all decide for yourselves whether it has any interest for you, or whether it has any value at all. For my part I feel that it is a new form of art, as yet in its infancy, and still containing much that needs to be eliminated, but I do think it has come to stay. It will never overthrow the more established forms of art yet just as the short story found its place in the world of literature I feel that Impressionism will in time become recognised, at least in some of its forms.
How drear the journey, dark the way,
How narrow is the path that leads us right.
How uninviting are the cobbled stones,
That take us ever nearer to the light.
How mournful is the music that we hear;
How desolate the landscape come to view;
How dull the track we, ever onwards, tread,
The track we know will, lastly, bring us through.
But how bright the voyage, keen the run;
How happy is the path that goes awry;
How inviting is the laughter that we hear
Though, little do we know, its just a lie
That leads us on into a troubled life
Where strife and sorrow play their deadly part
So, though it seems unwelcome, take the turn
That leads to happiness and peace of heart.
12
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KANDY CALLING
ILLUSTRATED SUPPLEMENT
[picture]
ROUND THE BEND
Vol. II. No. 7 SEPTEMBER, 1946
[page break]
II
[photograph]
W.A.A.F. & AIRMEN’S MESS
[photograph]
SERGEANTS’ MESS
[photograph]
NO.1 OFFICERS’ MESS
[page break]
III
[photograph]
MOUNT HUNASGIRIYA FROM THE CAMP
[photograph]
MAIN GUARDROOM ENTRANCE
[page break]
IV V
[photograph]
R.A.F. STATION, KANDY & A.H.Q. CEYLON – AN AERIAL PHOTOGRAPH
[page break]
[photograph]
VI
KANDY PERAHERA, AUGUST, 1946
[page break]
[photograph]
VII
KANDY PERAHERA, AUGUST, 1946
[page break]
VIII
[photograph]
COLOMBO STREET, KANDY
[photograph]
THREE LOCAL INHABITANTS
[page break]
A Christian Viewpoint
EDUCATION
THE Education Act of 1944 has been accepted as a cautious yet gradual step from the “old order” and it is still to be seen when ideals or circumstances will be paramount. At a time when destructive analysis carries more weight than practical idealism; when it is so widely held that the Christian Faith should be treated as a school subject under the general title of Comparative Superstitions, the new proposals are encouraged to professing Christians in that they provide for a place for worship, and religious instruction in the daily curriculum.
But why, the agnostic will enquire, should religion and education continue to be thus mixed up? The answer would take much space, but it is sufficient to say that in divorcing religion from education man denies his true nature. Man’s nature is a trinity of body, mind and spirit, parallel in its diversity on the one hand and its essential unity on the other with the Christian doctrine of Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Education can be variously defined, but perhaps the best short definition can be given in the single word “development” Development of what? Of our whole being presumably – of our bodies, of the mind. Physical education we readily understand, for we are not free from it in the Royal Air Force; and development of the mind has an assured place in the civilized world. Is that all? Is that where education stops? Is it enough that a man should be healthy in body and well trained in his thinking? Some would say so but we cannot begin to agree.
To achieve the fulness [sic] of life is obviously impossible if one aspect of our nature is neglected or lopped off. Was it not John Ruskin who wrote, “You do not learn that you may live – You live that you may learn”? Therefore no plan for education which ignores the unity of the human trinity can succeed, if success means a contribution to the weal of the suffering world through the fullest possible development of our being.
This conclusion is quite ancient, but the practical application of it to our own educational system has waxed and waned. In the Middle Ages the Christian Church was the custodian of learning, and the system was built on pure motives of Christian charity. Rich and poor alike were included in this scheme, and it was only with the decline of their original purposes that they became institutions of tyranny and class distinction. Then came Dr. Arnold whose avowed intent was to cultivate “gentleman” in his school. This meant something different to the prevailing idea of a gentleman, as being a man of privileged social status. For him the word was insepraable [sic] from its accompanying adjective, Christian.
It may be noticed that the social and ethical significance of the word “gentleman” has
13
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KANDY CALLING
become quite naturally confused, since it has, until lately, been an upper class privilege to benefit fully from the practical Christian education of Dr. Arnold and his successors.
Recognition of religion in education has given encouragement to all who call themselves Christian, but mere recognition is only a starting point and it is up to us, seeing the gate opened, to make the best use of this opportunity.
There are many hurdles on this road, none of which will be smoothed out by parliamentary acts, and one of the biggest is the spectre of broken homes. The foundations of education are laid, we would all agree, in the home. Prayers at a mother’s knee or the absence of God in a household, harmony or divorce between parents, these have the profoundest influence of all upon a child. It is upon the home that Christian Education must be built, for only upon that foundation can the Christian life be developed at school and afterwards – Let us see that the knowledge offered to our children is not turned to roguery and lust but rather to wisdom and love.
THOMAS SCOTT.
Church Notices
CHURCH OF ST. PETER (C. of E.)
Sundays 08.15 Holy Communion (Station Church)
Sundays 17.30 Evensong (St. Paul’s Church, Kandy)
Saints’ Days 06.45 Holy Communion
Fridays 19.30 Fellowship Meeting (Hut 325)
The Chaplain asks all confirmed members of the Church to make themselves known without delay. His Office is in Block 229 (Telephone ext. 43).
PRESBYTERIAN METHODIST & UNITED BOARD
Sundays 10.00 Morning Service (Station Church)
17.30 Evening Service (Scots Kirk, Kandy)
18.00 Evening Service (Methodist Church Kandy)
Mondays 20.00 Fellowship Meeting (Hut 325)
Tuesdays 20.00 Bible Study Meeting (Hut 325)
Transport calls at No. 1 Officers, Sergeants and W.A.A.F. Messes at 08.00 hrs., and leaves Main Guard Room in the evening at 17.00 hrs.
CHURCH OF OUR LADY OF LOURDES (R.C.)
(Situated near Equipment Section).
Sundays 08.30 Holy Mass
Thursdays 18.30 S.O.S. Group Meeting
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The Brontë Sisters
By Adrian R. Dale
MUCH has been said about the Brontë sisters in the past, and, as most of us know, two films were produced from books written by two of the sisters. But how many know their life history?
The story of the Brontë sisters begins with their father Patrick Brunty, who came from County Down in Ireland. He later changed his name to Brontë and became a scholar of St. John’s College, Cambridge, in 1802. After leaving this College he held minor clerical posts and eventually became perpetual curate of Haworth, a wild and moorland district of Yorkshire, where he remained till his death.
He married in 1812, and his wife died in 1822 leaving him with six children, Maria, Elizabeth, Charlotte, Patrick, Emily and Anne, of whom the eldest was eight and the youngest almost two years of age. The children led an inconsistent life and amused themselves by writing. They received a little instruction from their father and attended a boarding school. Of this institution it is enough to say that it killed Maria and Elizabeth, and later served as a model Lowood for Charlotte’s Jane Eyre. After leaving this school, the two elder sisters Charlotte and Emily resided in Belgium in 1842 where they were pupils at the Pensionnat Heger in Brussels, but had to return in 1843 owing to the death of an aunt who had been keeping their Yorkshire House.
In 1846 Charlotte (1815 – 55), Emily (1818 – 48), and Anne (1820 – 49) united in producing Poems by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell. The volume was not successful but Charlotte embodied some of her experiences in a novel, The Professor, which was rejected. Nevertheless it gave her practice, for she was a born writer but still had to learn the technique.
It was in 1847 when Charlotte wrote Jane Eyre, still using the name Currer Bell. The other sisters were writing too; for in 1847 appeared Wuthering Heights by Ellis Bell (incidentally Emily Brontë). The book is unique. There was nothing like it before, there has been nothing like it since. The wickedness of it appals us because it is pure wickedness, free from any taint of the flesh. About the events of Jane Eyre one feels as though the events could have happened to anyone anywhere; but about the events of Wuthering Heights one feels that they could not have happened out of hell. People ask whether her book had anything to do with her brother Patrick; that is a hard question to answer because she wrote down her feelings of the world and considering the life she led on the Yorkshire Moors it is quite possible she did refer to her brother.
Anne’s qualities have been underrated because she is less vehement than her sister; but
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Agnes Grey is a moving personal record and shows a sign of undeveloped strength and fine observation.
In 1848 Patrick Brontë drugged himself to extinction and before the close of the same year Emily, too, was gone. Anne herself died in the next year and Charlotte the eldest of the Brontë sisters remained.
In 1849 she wrote Shirley with great expectations, but unlike Jane Eyre it was difficult to read and was a failure. After visits to London where she received much appreciation and encouragement, she wrote Villette which was a remembrance of Brussels. That was her last book.
In 1854 she married her father’s curate, and in 1855 she died before she was thirty-nine leaving behind two chapters of a novel entitled Emma.
And so ended the lives of the Brontë sisters, unique in their own way, and to us a valuable memory.
A BOUQUET FOR BRITISH FILMS
It can hardly be denied that at long last Britain is making a stand in the film industry of today. Like most other things it has taken time, but its eventual aim is being reached and better films are being produced.
The majority of films, however, are inclined to be graded good or bad purely on personal opinion and not so much on material value. This leads many people to believe that because they did not like a certain film it was poor. Therefore, while an American film which has been condemned by public opinion is lost amongst the great number of other films produced by them, the British film has to suffer a slower death due to the fact that very few films are produced in this country as compared with America. This makes the British failures more outstanding and also makes it harder to prove to the general public that Britain can produce good films.
Good acting is half way to making a film a success and it is here that the British stars can take a bow. They live their parts with stark reality. They go a long way to help make the films what they are; frank, portraying both the rich and poor with true feelings, and real as life itself from beginning to end.
This year has seen the rising of a few new stars with genuine talent who have helped to break the monotony of the big five – James Mason, Margaret Lockwood, Patricia Roc, Stewart Granger, and Phyllis Calvert – who have been taking the leading roles of the greater portion of British films. That they have every good reason, however, to take these parts on their acting merits is to be well appreciated, but a fresh face is always welcomed.
Quality is far greater the quantity with British films and that is the way it should be. Where American produces as many films as she can to keep her large number of stars in circulation, Britain concentrates everything on turning out one film that stands every chance of making a hit; and it only needs one who appreciates good acting and who has seen a few of the latest British films such as: Waterloo Road, Brief Encounter, Henry V, and Seventh Veil to agree that the producers’ aim is not far off its mark. Someone might raise a debatable point with regard to Henry V, but then one knew what to expect.
In its stars, Britain obviously has the material for making good films and, if given a chance to prove itself capable of turning out some of the finest films, it will not be so very long before its ambition is realized.
DUDLEY P. BURNS
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THE MUSIC SOCIETY
THERE can be few R.A.F. Stations that have not a music society; frequently one finds that the more isolated the station the more active the Society. R.A.F. Kandy cannot be called an isolated station, but its Music Society is certainly active.
I first knew the Society when it was run by those two enthusiastic musicians, Ben Belifonte and Bill Davies.
However well a concert of recorded music is presented, there is something lacking when compared with an actual performance. One misses the artists’ personalities, the applause. The latter gives the audience an opportunity to express their appreciation of the music and its interpretation, for a few moments they leave their role of passive listeners of, and become active participators in, music. Only by taking an active part in the performance of music, even if it is only applauding, can One [sic] attain a full appreciation of music.
It is this difference between a recorded concert (passive listening par excellence) and a “live” concert that makes me suggest that Ben Belifonte and Bill Davies will best be remembered on this station for their Sunday night concerts. Then with piano and violin they would present their programme, holding enthralled a large audience.
The large audiences at the Society’s concerts were due in large measure to the excellent publicity the concerts received. A number of people were responsible for this, but special mention must be made of L.A.C. Tournor, whose latest work has been to decorate the large plain-looking resonator board, making it “a thing of beauty and a joy for ever”. He has also designed the notices of the weekly programme. These beautifully designed and executed notices as much sought after for their artistic worth, and a number of them are now among collections of programmes containing such famous names as the Halle Orchestra, John Barbirolli, The BBC Symphony Orchestra and Sir Henry Wood.
Flight Lieutenant Miller, who took over the leadership of the Society in May, was an excellent musician and an advocate of appreciating music by active participation, especially by singing. He contended that nobody was tone deaf. He never achieved his ambition of forming a Station Choral Society, though he did form a choir from each course at the E.V.T. School. It was his boast that the choir’s theme song “Come Follow” was known throughout all India Command and A.C.S.E.A. One of his proudest moments came when the G.S.T. and Equipment Courses complained that they were unable to work because the choir was singing Parry’s “Jerusalem” too well and too loud.
His lectures on musical appreciation helped many to obtain a fuller conception of the nature and quality of music. Perhaps his greatest achievement at these lectures was when after a ten minute lecture on conducting he persuaded his class to conduct a recording of Beethoven’s Eighth Symphony. The best performance was by a W.A.A.F. who did not get lost until the tenth bar, the rest were lost between the third and fifth bars.
Unfortunately two enthusiastic and hard working members of the Society will be leaving us soon. Cpl. Wilson, who has done much publicity work for the Society and has also been a very efficient record changer is posted to Singapore. Cpl. Greig, who with Cpls. Whitfield and Rossone has worked extremely hard on the technical equipment, is promulgated for release.
Without this small band of enthusiasts the Society could never have played the part in Station life that it has done. Their aim was perfection, and unstintingly they have given their time to achieve that aim.
Shortly, those who remain of these enthusiasts together with the records and other equipment will be moving to Katukurunda. A room has already been allocated for the use of the Music Society there, and it is planned that the Society will play as large a part, if not larger, in the Station life at Katukurunda as it has done at Kandy.
R. KNEESHAW.
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Heard Melodies Are Sweet. . .
THE True Poet is a man who says the right thing at the right time in the right way. And the True Poet never more squarely hit the proverbial nail on the head with the equally proverbial hammer than when he said “Heard Melodies are Sweet – but those unheard are sweeter!” (I have it on reliable information that the True Poet in this case was John Keats).
These thoughts came to me lying on my charp one afternoon while on [sic] “oppo” of mine, who says he wouldn’t know a True Poet when he saw one and “couldn’t care less”, was in the shower. How right he was – heard melodies are sweet but those unheard are sweeter, far far sweeter.
Why must they sing in the showers? I thought perhaps they did just to get their own back on me. But what about those on the other side of the camp who can’t hear me even when I’m on the top of my form and with the wind in my favour. They also sing and arouse such thoughts as these in the once friendly bosoms of my comrades.
George, who thinks a lot – so much so, he says, that it might force him into working when he gets his release – suggested it might be a neuro-muscular and/or neuro-psychic reaction. You know, the way birds sing when they hear “Waky waky, rise and shine” first thing every morning. Unless, of course, the patient under consideration suffers from neurasthenia, he added as an afterthought. But then I’ve never known a neurasthenic who sang in his shower; come to think of it I’ve never known a neurasthenic.
George wasn’t any help, neither were the snores if [sic] the rest of billet: they didn’t even impress on the shower-singer that his oppos wanted to sleep.
WHY NOT TRY IT?
SOME people say it’s crazy. They are the ones who have never tried it themselves. Others just look scornful and say nothing. They are the ones who know they couldn’t even if they did try. Others sound mildly interested, and look as if they only want somebody to talk them into it. They are the best ones to work on. A few say that they think it’s a very good idea indeed. They have no intention of ever trying it.
Of course, really it’s only a question of will-power. Admittedly it’s easier if you have some incentive, but it’s really will-power that does it – nothing more or less. There’s no doubt that the first few times are the worst but it’s all right once you get into the habit.
“Is it worth it?” they say. Again, they are the people who have never tried it. Every new convert agrees that there is nothing better. Think of the sense of virtue it gives you, and the satisfaction of having done it for the first time. You soon get used to the incredulous stares people give you, and you’ll find yourself meeting them with a pitying smile. Mind you, people will be sarcastic and rude about it, but that is sheer jealousy. The pitying smile deals with these people very satisfactorily, too.
No, there’s no doubt about it, you’ll never regret it once you start. What’s that? You don’t know what I’m talking about? Why, going for long walks before breakfast, of course!
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SPOTLIGHT ON THE SECTIONS
AT 0759 hrs., streamline cars flash by, coachwork gleaming, flags flying, bound for that great metropolis, A.H.Q. Now we come to that little building set on a slight rise, and as we approach there comes to our ears the high-pitched whine of highly-trained brains working at maximum boost; let us look inside this compact unit.
Five huddled figures sprawl luxuriously in armchairs, pounding on typewriters and adding machines. Tea is brought to the sweating figures twice a day in buckets and food is piled high on the “in” tray. A faint smoke hangs over the office as ribbons are hacked and burnt by the flying keys of quaking machines.
Hordes of writhing humanity fight at the windows, brandishing last years’ statements and DEMAND attention. Not even a stony glance is thrown in their direction.
As we hurry through the swing doors into the next vast office we are met by the clanking of coin and the crackling of paper as the safes are emptied and notes cascade onto the floor in batches of ten.
Time is short and we push open the gilded doors that lead into the holiest of holies and there we find the great man himself, the master mind, sitting behind rows of glittering telephones, juggling with call after call, scribbling madly, signing documents in strict and terrible rotation, answering queries like nobody’s business. He looks up No! – it was the sight of N.A.A.F.I. tea that caught his eye. Look out! he is off again, “mind that book, watch that clock, where’s that file -.”
And so with incredible agility we enter the last and most serene of all this humming building. Equipment Accounts. Filing cabinets and forms in quadruplicate chock floor to ceiling; just think of the ships that bring all that paper, bottles of ink, and rulers. Reds and Blues flick deftly from tray to tray as the automation checks, cross checks, registers and casts – not forgetting number, stamp and blot each scrappy little piece of paper.
The minute hand of the clock nears the half-twelve; there is a deathly hush as eyes scan the distant Metropolis for signs of the first evacuee.
……and chum, if anyone ever asks you what goes on in Pay Accounts “Nothing mate, Nothing.”
“MARTYRS”
AIR staff, like other sections, has in the past few months had several changes in personnel due to repats, release, and postings, but the next few weeks looks like establishing new records.
Sgt. Bidgood (Nav) is anxiously wandering around trying to get the “gen” on the Arundel Castle, so we presume he considers it time for his repat, and Corporal Iris Callingham and L.A.C.W. McRory are both on the W.A.A.F. Draft to go to Singapore. Iris has made many contributions to Kandy Calling and her drawings, posters, etc. will be familiar to most of you.
The S.W.A.A.F.O., Sqdn/O. Arkell, who has for a little time combined her own job with that of the Intelligence Officer, is also leaving us, for ENGLAND.
Last, but by no means least, we have to report the fact that the two officers with the longest amount of service in the section are also about to leave this island for Blighty. We must say to both S/Ldr. Clarke and F/Lt. Mundy, thanks for the happy and co-operative spirit displayed to all ranks and civilians in Air Staff, and to their credit must be put a large share of the praise for the happy spirit which prevails in Air Staff.
We wish all our members the very Best of Luck in whatever new sphere they intend to operate. Bon Voyage to you all.
On the other side of the Personnel ledger we wish to welcome our New SASO, G/Capt. Hutton, C.B.E., who arrived by plane from ENGLAND on September 7th.
The hardy netball fixture, W.A.A.F. v. T.W.A.’S. was on the list of sporting events in the section again, and we think the “bods” who have the hardest time are the R.A.F. in the section, as we have players of both teams working here and it’s very hard
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SECTION NEWS
lines, on the fellow caught by either team cheering for the opposition. So far we have survived, and if this fixture is repeated in the future, we shall consider it good training on our part for the Diplomatic Service. One little tip I must give: one pair of players has practised many hours with a large balloon, and it has improved their play, but if necessary we could supply a pin, (if we are given a good offer).
THE W.A.A.F. site! What visions do those three little words conjure up?
To the W.A.A.F. Officers; “The Waafery” – five huts accommodating 63 airwomen; ages ranging from 20 to 40 (well may be 38), from 5’2” to 5’6 1/2” in height, weight from 8 sts., to 10 sts., all to be cared for. Entailing the making of rules, listening to their little troubles, giving advice, with occasionally a reprimand, and weekly hut inspection: showing interest in their various sports including those payed against the stronger (?) sex. A vision of a grand bunch of girls.
To the airwoman? Well not exactly home form home but ‘the next best thing’ where one can rest one’s weary bones between duties and pleasures (after one has broken in the mattress to the required shape). Quarters free from the roving eye of man (sometimes), where one can let one’s hair down, literally and metaphorically, or put it up, in curlers, cream one’s face, and give vent to one’s feelings in no uncertain terms.
A friend to “natter” to – to discuss the latest boy friend the previous evening, or, “My dear, what do you think I heard today” “You’ll never guess whom I saw sitting on the bridge last night,” etc., etc.
At night a welcoming place to return to, (unless one has the misfortune to be late). In the prosaic light of morning plus a hangover and an empty feeling inside (two breadless days a week), merely billets that have to be vacated by 0750 or 0755. On the whole, not such a bad place.
To the airman? A site to reconnoitre. I think that it is the correct word, the definition being “to approach and try to learn the position and condition or strategic features of the district – or the enemy.” A vision of himself plodding anything but noiselessly around huts, with fixed bayonet, whistling to keep his spirits up, asking himself why he should be the unlucky one to be picked for Guard Duty, (although it has been known for one keen type to volunteer three times in one week. He is back in U.K. now).
As for the Admin. Staff, visions of the hustle and bustle on inspections morning, dhobi, shoe repairs, telephone calls, late passes, notices, dogs, and questions, but it could be a lot worse.
AS is usual, we have gone through the routine for the month. Forms 449 have been submitted, amendment lists up-to-date, and assessments and ration strengths completed with the remarkable efficiency of S.H.Q. Orderly Room staff. But now for the sidelines – we do not publish everything in “Information and Current News” you know. Quite a bit goes on when a slack session occurs, when the mail van takes a trip down Kaduganawa Pass, when the inmates of the Orderly Room go in for a bit of frivolity.
Johnny the W.A.A.F. and those three – well those three T.W.A’s. – have a “get together” on exactly what type of satin would best become Johnny as a wedding dress. The date’s fixed, and listen for the banns next Sunday!
Regardless of that all-important conference, Mac., that ardent worshipper of the “new religion called Swing” bangs a hot and incessant tempo on the hard wood of his desk. To us it’s an awful lot of rattle, but he’s druming [sic] for Woody Herman – we humour him and leave him to it – he’s only 19 you know.
Across the room Norman – who’s taken a brief respite from his favourite pastime of misplacing urgently-required files – addresses all and sundry on the genteel of virtues of the classics. Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms and Mozart, each is deified in turn and those – swing fans are denounced and openly proclaimed destined for Hades. Even the irrepressible Mac. quits banging for a spell and appears momentarily chastised. Comes a derisive snort from
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the region of our P. 3 Branch. “Why don’t all of you grow up? Act your age.” Lofty looks down at the rest from the height of his 6 ft. 2 and gives us a disapproving glare from those champagne eyes (he would never admit it, but there’re his chief pride).
“Wrap up! I’m on the ‘phone” – but Dick always is – “Is that 89 F.E.U.? Hello Chappy! Whizzo! Roll on that boat! – Put Monie on will you?” But let’s not listen in any more as we’d better leave his private life alone. Paddy, his assistant, eyes the rest as though he’s rather doubtful he reported to the right section. Still he’s new and will learn, and, by the way! he’s the only airman on the camp who possesses a recording of Mary Martin’s “Do it Again,” although rumour has it he’s given it to a T.W.A. Talking of T.W.A’s. – the trio in the Orderly Room have resumed their giggling, drowning the rest of the din. Terry, the T.M.A., blushes for his countrywomen, and the others declare that with Johnny thrown in they are an infliction. Just now they’ve succeeded in playing a practical joke on a fresh victim – the new boy from Singapore.
All this merriment is cut short when the Flight Sergeant stalks in upon it and silently surveys his underlings with that “disciplinary” air – however he’s utterly disarmed when with flashing smiles and shining eyes the girls comment on what a good sport he is.
EIGHT popular members of “P” Staff have left recently on postings and repat. leaving a handful of indefatigables to struggle on if not regardless at least undaunted.
Wing Commander Bangay, D.F.C., the S.P.S.O. who looked so disgustingly healthy first thing in the morning that the rest of the staff felt they ought really to be on sick parade, has moved to org. to take over the S O.A. post and S.L. Wilson, O.B.E., has taken over.
S.L. Chandler, who has been overseas since 1942 (ops. most of the time) and was once Gunnery Leader with 160 Squadron, has also left us – for an Admin. course, which caused many throaty chuckles in the section he had been administering. He must be one of the highest ranking A.G.’s in the V.R.
The W.A.A.F.’s who are going on repat. are Cpls. Thorburn, Mary Longmuir and Jean Sant, all of whom came overseas with the first W.A.A.F. drafts.
W.O. Ivan Longman, a Flight Engineer who is in charge of “P” Staff Registry, is also going on repat. He completed a tour with 357 Squadron, based in India – dropping men and supplies, behind the Jap lines. Then he came to 160 Squadron in Ceylon and took part in Coastal sweeps, mine laying and, then again, “Special Duties”.
Heading for Singapore are W.A.A.F. Corporal Vera Wilson and LACW Ursula Hilton. Both have been with AHQ nearly a year.
The Corporal spent most of the war in a radar post on the top of the Dover cliffs, soothing her nerves with Bach and Beethoven. She refused to say what effect it had on the nerves of the other people. Miss Wilson has been running the camp library and helping to organize the gramophone circle here.
The LACW, known all over the place as “Sue,” plays hockey, reads “Country Life” and claims she would be the pukka outdoor type if it weren’t for a yen for cocktail parties. She went golfing a week or so back and busted her hand. Claims it’s the only time she’s had finger trouble.
F.S. Ray Elliott, A.G. cum clerk, is in hospital with a gammy foot at the time of writing. It is hoped to see him back again very soon.
THE lilting music of Strauss, shaded lights, gay laughter, beautiful women and golden wines – Vienna for one night came to Kandy. The mundane conventionality called Time dissolved – the Signals dance was on!
This was the fourth dance which the Signals Section has organised whilst at Kandy and, like the previous ones was held at the Town Hall.
Our charming hostesses carried out their duties in a most attractive manner and it was largely due to their efforts that the evening was so successful. The Station band under the direction of Sgt. Palfrey, was in attendance and carried the evening off with a swing. Special mention
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should be made of the highly satisfactory catering arrangements which were in the capable hands of P/O Seekins, the Station Catering Officer. The buffet was a work of art.
It can only be hoped that the move to Katukurunda will not result in the cessation of activities in this direction on the part of our signals friend – “do’s” like these are all too infrequent.
Yes, the evening may properly be called a “signals” success and our sincere thanks are extended to you.
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
Sir,
I have a complaint. My morale has been shaken to its slender roots. I am upset and dismayed. The last issue of Kandy Calling has left me a miserable man. I picked it up and what did I see? A very well-executed cover design, but then my joy was dispelled as by the stroke of an axe. Why? Let me tell you. There right in the centre of the very front page was a boat FACING THE WRONG WAY!
Yours, etc.,
Group 75
Sir,
I have followed the progress of Kandy Calling since its early days of duplication, and I feel that thanks should be offered to all the long succession of people who have helped to produce it. It is by no means a simple task to extract “copy” from often unwilling contributors, and to produce a magazine from it which will suit all tastes. Like the Producer of a show, the Editor is usually an unpopular man when his paper is published.
Bearing in mind the difficulties, I would like to offer one piece of constructively intended criticism. I have just read the latest issue, and I find that there are no less than three articles in it, dealing in some way with the theatre or the cinema. I have noticed previously that individual issues of the magazine have tended to concentrate on one particular subject. The earlier issues all had a very strong bias towards Sport; then for two issues Music appeared to be the prime interest. Now, it seems that we are leaning towards the Cinema.
I am sure that Kandy Calling would be more generally appreciated if it could offer a wider variety of subjects. As I have already said, I realise that the Editor is often severely handicapped by the amount of material he receives. If this is the case, then how about a few more contributions from the members of the Station? But I do believe that variety is an important factor in a Unit magazine, and that Kandy Calling would benefit from the introduction of a little more.
Yours, etc.,
D.A.
AN INFERNAL EPISTLE
Sir,
ONE of my satellites, a printer’s devil, has drawn attention to the fact that in the last issue of your magazine Kandy Calling, I was grossly misrepresented and grave disservice was done to my cause. Possessing that amazing attribute of “free will,” a gift of the enemy himself, you will, I am sure, allow me some space to defend myself and my ways.
Ever since some human or other called Lewis – a mere Grub Street hack – gave to your world some letters of a devil of mine written confidentially to his nephew, Woodworm, we of the lower regions have suffered constantly from misrepresentation. Now two minor writers of your number have published some more propaganda against us, one in a fatuous article called Fairies, and the other in A Christian View point; The Cinema. May I single out some phrases for comment.? [sic]
“Privilege and duty are inseparable.” As any minor devil will tell you, this Christian tenet, if rigorously upheld, will mean the negation of human freedom. Everyone knows that to ask a human being to be responsible for anything is to curtail his liberty. Hell Below! What human ever wanted to answer for anything or anyone else. Desire, not duty, counts in hell and on earth.
“Being critical of films will lead one to consider the moral value of films.” Perhaps the most distressing quality in a Christian is his constant desire to look for morality in the most unusual places
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He is always trying to attribute goodness or badness, confusing the real issue, which, as always, is “does this or does this not give me pleasure?” Only when a work of art is weighed in the individuals balance of pleasure and pain does it reveal its true being.
It is impossible to take a sentence from the article Fairies and say that it was objectionable for the whole composition was in the worst possible taste and must be condemned as a whole. (W.N. Leak will receive a rude shock when he finally does pay us a visit!) Our intelligence service does not permit me to reveal too much, but I think I may, without laying up any torture for myself give you some account of our realms below – the only realm, in fact, that humans are allowed to visit while still enjoying (?) life.
The entrance fee is ths [sic] cost of a few beer, the password “Drunk Again.” Here there is no cacophony of sound or war of ideas as your wretched correspondent described; an appeal to any who have visited the place will dispose of that superstition. On the contrary, after a short journey the visitor finds himself removed from earth and he is the possessor of a new soul. His imaginative powers are increased; his visual capacity doubled or even trebled, with the result that he sees in his surroundings an unusual beauty and charm. A glorious bonhomie steal over him until at last he feels at one with nature. I can assure your readers that our accommodation is well-nigh unlimited and that Friday night is a favourite with our devotees . . . .
Finally, an appeal. Two thousand years of Christian influence has compelled us to exist only in the minds of human beings and we can no longer stalk the earth in semi-human form. May I remind all supporters of our cause that our task would be much easier if only they banished from their thoughts such values as virtue, vice, beauty, truth, love, etc. As soon as each human realises that there are no eternal values but the subjective viewpoint is the right one, then my associates and I can have free access to his soul. So – cast off the shroud of Christianity and don the colours of
Yours, etc.,
“OLD NICK”
ANSWERS TO QUIZ
1. (b) Animal.
2. Joan Fontaine.
3. Eros – Piccadilly Circus.
4. Richard Llewellyn.
5. (a) Hobart.
(b) Tirana.
(c) Lima.
(d) Buenos-Aires.
6. Ross Parker of Radio SEAC fame.
7. Vice Admiral Blandly, C.O., U.S. Navy division research special weapons.
8. Cornwall.
9. (a) 21. (b) 21. (c) 18.
10. Australia.
11. 12 Years.
12. Nine Provinces. North, South, East, West, N.W., N. Central, Central, Uva, Sabaragamuwa.
COMPETITION RESULTS
Photographic Section
1st Prize. “CHICO” by LAC R. Dance
2nd Prize. “WEETON” by F/S Turner
3rd Prize. “WATER LILY” by F/L B.M. Baker
Serious Article Section.
1st Prize. “KANDY VISIT” by “SEL”
2nd Prize. “INDIA” by AC. D.H. Waters
3rd Prize. “IT WAS A ROTTEN FILM” by J.T.
Light Article Section.
1st Prize. “ARS AMATORIA” by P.J.C.
2nd Prize. “BOOK REVIEWS” by R.S.
3rd Prize “EDUCATION” by E. Taylor
24
[page break]
[picture]
KEEP YOUR PECKER UP!
TEA REVIVES YOU
[page break]
[advertisement]
[advertisement]
[advertisement]
Ceylon Printers Ltd., Kandy.
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
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Kandy Calling September 1946
The Magazine of RAF Station Kandy
Description
An account of the resource
The last issue of Kandy Calling. A magazine with news, quizzes, stories, sports reports, personalities, photographs, cartoons, letters to the editor and adverts.
Creator
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RAF Station Kandy
Date
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1946-09
Format
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26 printed sheets
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Photograph
Artwork
Identifier
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MCollerAS1874018-170424-02
Spatial Coverage
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Sri Lanka
Sri Lanka--Kandy
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
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Temporal Coverage
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1946-09
Contributor
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Steve Baldwin
357 Squadron
arts and crafts
entertainment
faith
military living conditions
sport
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/694/22296/YBarrettR1863228v1.2.pdf
e3f1c95485d389d7a6c88b80ba6647a2
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
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Barrett, Raymond
R Barrett
Description
An account of the resource
30 items. An oral history interview with Leading Aircraftsman Raymond Barrett (1924 -2017, 1863228 Royal Air Force) a memoir, diary, documents and photographs. He served as an engine mechanic in North Africa, Italy and India.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Raymond Barrett and catalogued by Trevor Hardcastle.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-05-15
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.
Identifier
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Barrett, R
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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[Royal Air Force crest]
R.A.F.
[page break]
To Ray from Mary
EUSTON STATION
EUS 1234
[page break]
? Mr. Sam. Miller.
Squire Smith.
Jock Stewart.
Duke Liesen
Mr. C. Renyolds. [sic]
Mr. Albert Platt
[page break]
31 at 6/3
[calculations]
29th Embarked on S.S. “Carthage” 1500 TONS in pouring monsoon rain after trip down Rangoon River in Landing Crafts.
Sailed at 4 p.m. after life boat drill
1,400 Army & 1,100 R.A.F. personnel on board. Dropped pilot off at 8 a.m.
30th Food very good. Ran into storm during evening boat rocking a bit up to noon. 290 miles
[underlined] 31st [/underlined] Sea still rough. Was Sick after dinner, but was feeling fine again & ready for tea. 397 miles covered Slept on deck. dusk until noon that day.
[page break]
[calculations]
[underlined] Aug 1st [/underlined] Arrived [deleted] near [/deleted] [inserted] off [/inserted] coast of E Ceylon early afternoon & reduced speed by half. 259 miles covered
Aug 2nd Sailed into Colombo harbour & dropped anchor (& lost it) at 8 am. weather fine. 8o N of Equator. 214 mls covered Total miles to date 1,260. Full Harbour. Sailed at 4-20 p.m out into coconut tree surrounded bay [indecipherable words] went wrong. Ran into few small storms but first starry night for months 305 miles covered up until noon Passed island 450 miles out. Last land for 5 days.
[page break]
[calculations]
[page break]
Aug 9th Passed Little Brother islands at dusk.
[underlined] Aug 10th [/underlined] Passed Mount Sinai early morning 26 mls inlands where God gave Moses 10 Commandments. Docked outside Port Suez 12 a.m. Dutch Boat alongside forge Bargained with natives in boats for leather goods etc. & watched 48 R.A.F. chaps disembark for M.E.F. Sun Set.
Aug 11th
Sailed at 3 a.m. In greater of Bitter Lakes when I got up. Just off of Kabrit. Italian Battleships still anchored in lake after 2 3/4 yrs but had stern up. Passed by familar [sic] scenery for rest of day. [indecipherable word], Port Said, etc.
Cost of our ships passage through canal £3,000, & out into sea
Aug 12th
Along Egypt coast. No land in sight 335 miles
[page break]
Aug 13th No land for 200 mls in either direction. Passed between Malta & Sicily late at night 420 mls to noon.
Aug 14th Passed Panterlleria [sic] early morning & Cap Bon at 10 a.m. Bore at 3 p.m & Phillipville 9 p.m.
Aug 15th Off Algiers 7 a m very misty & [deleted] off [indecipherable word] [/deleted] 50 mls N Gran later in day. Watched sun set off mountain range of South East Spain.
[symbol]
Aug 16th Passed rock of Gibraltar at 6 a.m. In Straits when I arose & climbed on deck. Through Cape Boding & Cape Trafalgar in morning & off Portugal Cape St Vincent in afternoon. Off Lisbon just
[page break]
[symbol] Instructions received to proceed to Tilbury instead of docking at Southhampton [sic]
[page break]
Aug 4th 400 miles to noon on Mess Orderly. Ensa Concert in evening.
Aug 5th Played Bridge in evening 357 miles.
Aug 6th Running into gale. Bridge in evening. 361 miles.
Aug 7th Everything [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] locked ready for another big storm which arrived at 4 a.m. in morning while I was asleep. 374 mls.
Aug 8th Passed Rock of Aden at 6 a.m. in morning & entered Red Sea later on. Sea calm [inserted] [symbol] Straits 13 mls wide [/inserted] 392 mls.
100 mls from Abbusinea [sic]
Aug 9th Hellish hot [inserted] [symbol] Passed Volvanic islands [/inserted] like a furnace below on duty. Sailing up red sea. Dolphins jumping around boat Picture Show on Deck in evening.
Aug 10th Last day in Mess hall. Passed large coral reef & island named after first man to fly in old Greek Legiond [sic] Sun melted [indecipherable word] wings.
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
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Diary of voyage on repatriation to UK from Burma
Description
An account of the resource
The diary covers the period 29 July to 16 August 1946 on board S.S. Carthage, from Rangoon to the Bay of Biscay. The cover has the Royal Air Force crest. The inside front cover has the inscription 'To Ray from Mary'. Notebook is in poor condition and some pages are covered in calculations.
Creator
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Raymond Barrett
Format
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Hardback book containing handwritten notes and diary.
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Diary
Identifier
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YBarrettR1863228v1
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Burma
Burma--Rangoon
Egypt
Sri Lanka
Sri Lanka--Colombo
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
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.
Contributor
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Tricia Marshall
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1946-07
1946-08
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1946-07
1946-08
entertainment
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1526/29793/BMilesRJMilesRJv1.1.pdf
9c4ecee51db3f431f91201332344b0c2
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
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Miles, Reg
Reginald J Miles
R J Miles
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-07-26
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.
Identifier
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Miles, RJ
Description
An account of the resource
102 items. The collection concerns Reg Miles (1923 - 2022) and contains his audio memoir, log book, photographs and documents. He flew 36 operations with 432 and 420 Squadrons.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by R Miles and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S. of T.T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U.s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242 – 245 – 511
Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 1
Ex Apprentice No 1 S. of T.T., R.A.F.
The summer job had ended and there was a few months to go before I would leave for Halton, must get a job Mum said, so I got a job as a paper boy with Smith’s Book Shop in Westgate, delivering the morning papers to all the grand houses in the area and woe betide you if you got the houses wrong, no scandal sheets there all Times, Telegraph, Financial Review, and sometimes the Daily Express but certainly no Mirror. A friend worked for the same place and we both rode the Smith’s bikes, very distinctive they were, painted dark red with a large panel under the cross bar with the company logo on it and either side of the back wheel large canvas bags to hold the newspapers. Riding towards home together one day we came across a coal ship hight and dry on the Nayland rocks, which jutted out into the Margate harbour entrance, the skipper had missed the turn and when the tide went out there he was stuck, the crew were busy shovelling the coal over the side onto the rocks so that the ship could get off on the next tide. Too much of a temptation for two young boys, onto the rocks we went with the bikes and filled up the bags at the back with coal and home to the thanks of a family with a little more fuel for the winter. How the mighty are fallen, as we turned up for work the next morning at the crack of dawn, we were greeted by the manager with the words ‘you two are sacked here are your wages now clear’, when we asked why we were shown the front page of just about every newspaper with pictures of us and Smith’s bikes filling the bags with coal, and head office in London were not at all pleased, silly buggers very cheap advertising for them, so ended my last job before entering The Royal Air Force.
On January 24th 1939 I arrived at Wendover Railway Station in Buckingham Shire on a special train from Paddington with about one thousand other new boys, we were all shapes and sizes, colours, and aged between fifteen and eighteen. Halton at that time was the Apprentice Training Establishment for The Royal Air Force in the various aviation trades which included Engine Fitter, Airframe Fitter and other trades that were just starting to be developed. Prior to this most work on aeroplanes was done by the same people., but aircraft were becoming more complicated
[page break]
and needed specialists for just about every part, guns, radio, electric’s and so on. RAF Halton still is a training station for the engine, airframe, and all other bits and pieces of the aircraft. (I was recently told that a cook school was now in operation!!). The bits all have different names now. When I joined in January 1939 there were four wings each one had about 1000 boys in it under training, the course was three years, two entries each year , entry by competitive written examination of many subjects including, Math, English, and a number of science subjects which at my age when I took the exam at 14 made me struggle a bit but I got in! Massive workshops, an airfield and each wing was self-contained with proper three storey brick buildings housing the sleeping accommodation, each wing also had its own parade ground, gymnasium, cookhouse, band and all other facilities, different coloured hat bands were worn by each wing.
Apprentices were known as Brats and when you had passed out from Halton after a three year course you were an Ex Brat and a very close bondship with others who had been through Halton existed. Now March 15 1998!! I seem to have been very busy with all sorts of projects and still have some in the pipe line either incomplete or not even started yet but will endeavour to type a little more to keep this going. The first thing that happened to all us new boys was a medical to see if we were fit enough for service in the R.A.F. The first complete check up for most of us,the M.O. told me I had flat feet, said I did a lot of cross country running perhaps that was the cause!! Strange to say it was recently found that people with high arches were not able to stand the stress of marching and battle fatigue, flat was better. Next was fitting for a uniform, no I did not take size nine boots that Mum had said I would grow into but eight and a half and that still left room for thick socks.
Once all into our uniforms we paraded in sections for the swearing in for which we received an extra shilling (the Kings shilling) Most of us suffered with those boots made from leather so they said, more like sheets of armour plate, toes and ankle bones were rubbed sore after the first few hours, the corporal in charge of our section told us to fill the boots with water, pee was best, and stand them by our beds over night, empty them out and put them on straight away they would never hurt again, he was right but most mothers would have had a fit to see their little darlings squelching about in wet feet all day. I was allocated to four wing and told I would be trained as a Fitter 2E which meant I would become an aero engine fitter, others became Fitters 2A airframe, and others would become instrument, radio, and armament specialists. There were also boys who had joined the Royal Navy and would be trained in the same trades for the Fleet Air Arm, they were known as artificers, tiffys to the rest of us. Our uniform was the same as the regular service with proper trousers instead of a kind of jodhpurs with puttees that were wound around the lower leg, these were still worn by “Boy Entrants”
[page break]
who were trained in similar trades elsewhere but would end up as mechanics after a much shorter course, I think they were boys who were keen to get into the R.A.F but had not been able to pass the entry examination for apprentices. To distinguish four wing from the other three we had a bright orange-yellow hat band not too sure what the other were, seem to remember red and also black and red squares, we also had on our arm a brass badge that was a wheel with crossed propeller blades inside, and wore small rank badges the same as the adult services if promoted. All of the boys in the new entry were taken in group to the airfield and given a short flight in De Haviland Tiger Moth, gave us some idea how big Halton was and in most cases the first taste of airsickness, never had any trouble with this problem when I was flying as crew, but even a short flight at times as a passenger made me hang on to my seat and swallow heavily!! I joined the cross country team of four wing, and completed in many events during my period at Halton, won medals for this event and passed them on to Gillian for safe keeping. I was promoted to leading apprentice and made responsible for one of the rooms which held about thirty boys, one of them called Shaw I will never forget, a good looking boy but had a way of life completely strange to me and I suspect to most of the boys of my age.
This first came to light one night when he returned from a weekend pass with a full suit case full of cigarettes, where they came from we didn’t ask but we all got some free samples my share being double. He then told me he had a flat in London and a girl friend he kept there and paid for, how this was possible on three shillings a week I just could not understand, but it all came out later on. Because I was responsible for seeing that everyone in my room was present at “lights out” each night and weekend passes were only allowed very rare, Jonny Shaw asked me to sign him in nearly every weekend so he could go to London, didn’t worry me to do this, hadn’t asked to be a leading apprentice, was just given the job and I was never short of a packet of “fags”. One night late Johny turned up with another suit case, after climbing through a hole in the fence near our room, instead of cigarettes it contained woman’s clothing that he had picked up on the train from London, because it was there! Told him in no uncertain manner that if he didn’t do something about returning it to the owner it was the last time I covered for him. He packed up the case and took it out of the room and I expected he would leave it close to the guard room so that it would be found early in the morning and sent on it’s way to a very worried female. That was not Johny’s way, when I took a detail of boys out at the crack of dawn to make sure there was no rubbish about the place, every post, lamp standard, sign board and railing was draped with all of the contents of the case, we found the case and quickly packed the items back in and I took it to the guard room and stated that it has been found some way away from our room, it was opened by the police and an address found inside and was I presumed sent on to it’s owner, but I was very mad a Johny Shaw and never covered for him again,
[page break]
didn’t stop him from going out when he wanted to. Some months later he was found to have been forging instructors signatures on chits to book out micrometer and vernier gauges from the stores and was no doubt selling these in London and perhaps committing other crimes we knew nothing of, he was discharged from the R.A.F and as the second world war started soon after probably had a prosperous war and even ended up rich and famous, may be knighted for his efforts, while the rest of us fought and died! I have recently been contacted as a result of this webpage by Peter Long, another one of our fellows who knew Johny. He did become very rich eventually, Rolls Royce, Two ‘Planes of his own etc.!
R.A.F Halton was at one time a county residence owned by the Rothchild family whether they gave it to the R.A.F I don’t know but the “house” was used for the officer’s mess and the stables were allocated to the apprentices for a “hobby shop”. The stables were a magnificent set of buildings with curved brick walls and big enough to house a dozen families in great comfort. Many of the boys at Halton came from very wealthy families, some sons of aircraft manufacturers because it was recognised that an apprenticeship at Halton was the finest training anywhere in the world in Aircraft engineering. One father had given his son a new Ford car, he was probably in his last year of the three year course, we all helped him to take it completely to pieces and each part was reassembled with great care so that every part was a perfect fit, ran like a sewing machine the quietest Ford I have ever known.
There were even sons of Indian Princes, in fact it seemed as if every nation was represented there, many of the boys when they had finished their apprenticeship were “bought out” by their parents and returned to their own country or in some cases the firm that their parents owned in Britain, can’t remember the cost but did hear at the time it would have bought a row of houses in any town in England! The railway station we all arrived at was Wendover and the nearest large one was Alyesbury, (famous for ducks!) county seat for Buckinghamshire. Halton was set just below a ridge of hills and covered many square miles of country, the workshops were massive, covering all trades that operated in the Royal Air Force, an airfield with a grass runway complete with hangers and numerous aircraft that were used for hands on work and proper lecture halls where we were brought up to date on current affairs, and scientific laboratories with the latest equipment used in the testing of materials. The idea was to give not only complete technical training but a good all round knowledge much like a private college, apart from training in military matters and of course plenty of sporting activities. We were paid 5 shillings a week, four of which was saved for us, to be given when we went on leave, breakages which were deducted for individual items broken or worn out before a replacement was normally issued, boys can be hard on clothes! We were issued with a complete kit of
[page break]
clothes which included just about every thing required, but out of our weekly shilling we had to purchase things like metal and boot polish, once a week we had kit and barrack inspections when everything has to be spit and polish and all kit in good order, when the war started in September 1939 things change very rapidly, our three year course was cut down to just over two by stopping all holidays and we worked from dawn to dusk on our training, the subjects did not get shortened just longer days and no holidays or week ends, and we had to do anti invasion patrols and ride around the hills on our bicycles in the evenings to check for land mines that may have been dropped to blow the place up. At this time my father and mother had rented a house at High Wycombe which was not too far away from Halton, Dad was in charge of all military and naval buildings and repairs caused by shelling and bombing in Dover, so Mum lived at High Wycombe and Dad came up when he could, he had an old car and special petrol rations because of his work. I managed to get a weekend pass and went to get my bicycle from where it had been requisitioned for us in land mine patrols, the sergeant in charge said I couldn’t have mine but let me have grotty old service bike, think he was using it himself as it was new and my pride and joy, set out to visit Mum and Dad and coming round a corner met a flock of sheep all over the road, no where to go so crashed into the bank and bent the frame so that I could only steer one way, took me ages to get to High Wycombe and could not get anyone to mend it so Dad put it on the roof of his car and took me back to camp, left Halton soon after and took my bike with me.
The entry ages for Halton were 15 to 18, and we signed on for 12 years of service from the age of 18. As I was almost the minimum age, I was 15 in November 1938 and joined in January 1939, I would have been 18 when I finished the apprenticeship, but due to the war and cutting out holidays etc, I was only 17, I therefore was still classed as a boy when I left Halton and was not informed what rank I had passed my final examinations, so when I arrived at my first operational posting was paid the princely sum of ten shillings a week (about one dollar a week), yet was the only qualified member of the gang and had to tell men much older than myself sometimes the right way to do things.
– Reg Miles
Those items listed below can be found on the web at
http://members.aol.com/famjustin/Milesbio.html
[page break]
[underlined] Biography of Phyllis Miles (formerly Phyllis Dike), [/underlined] LACW, WAAF
[underlined] Collected Poetry of Reg Miles, [/underlined] Flight Engineer, No1SoTT Halton/ MUs/ Snowy Owls, 420 Sqdn RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 511 Transport Command, RAF
[underlined] Miss Phyllis Miles nee Dike, [/underlined] Photo, LACW, WAAF
[underlined] Group Photo, [/underlined] 432 Squadron RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Yorkshire
[underlined] 420 Squadron Badge, [/underlined] Photo, 6 Group Bomber Command, Tholthorpe Yorkshire, RCAF
[underlined] Barrington-Kennett Trophy Winners, [/underlined] 1939/40, Photo, Reg Miles, RAF Halton, RAF
[underlined] FIDO, [/underlined] Anecdote, Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, RAF
[underlined] Flight Engineer Reg Miles, [/underlined] Photo of Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, 432 Sqdn RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, RAF
[underlined] Flight Log 1664 HCU page one, page two, 432 Squadron page 1, 2, 3, 4, 420 Squadron page 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 1332 H.C.U. Page 1, Certificates of Competency, 242 Squadron, Page 1, Page 2, Page 3, 246 Squadron, Page 1, Page 2, 511 Squadron, Page 1, Page 2, Page 3, Page 4, Page 5, Page 6, Page 7, Page 8, Reg Miles, [/underlined] Flight Engineer, No1SoTT Halton/ MUs/ Snowy Owls, 420 Sqdn RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 511 Transport Command, RAF
[underlined] Halifax, E Easy and Crew, [/underlined] Photo of Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, 420 Sqdn RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, RAF
[underlined] Mail Plane, [/underlined] RAF Joke, Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, RAF
[underlined] Missing in Action Telegram, [/underlined] Reg Miles, 432 Squadron RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Yorkshire
[underlined] PLUTO, [/underlined] Anecdote, Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, RAF
[underlined] Queen Mary, [/underlined] Photo, Reg Miles, 67 M.U.s, RAF
[underlined] Salvaging a Bristol Beaufort, [/underlined] Photo, Reg Miles, 67 M.U.s, RAF
[page break]
[underlined] Tholthorpe Control Tower, [/underlined] from Jim Tease, Pilot, Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, 420 Sqdn RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, RAF
[underlined] Wedding Photo, [/underlined] Photo of Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, No1SoTT Halton/ MUs/ Bomber Command/ 511 Transport Command, RAF
[page break]
Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S.of T.T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U,s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242 – 246 – 511 Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 2
Ex Apprentice, 34 – 67 M.U.s, R.A.F.
I was posted to 34 Maintenance Unit Shrewsbury in Shropshire 5-10-1940, this unit was housed in sheds on the out-skirts of Shrewsbury and was responsible for the repair on site of crashed aircraft and the recovery of crashed aircraft that could not be flown away, this included both British, German, Italian, and later on American. The Flight Sergeant in charge of the crew of about six airmen was about sixty, was an optician in civvy street, had been a driver in the 1914-18 war so had no knowledge of aircraft, the rest of the gang were ex-garage workers only about one had any experience with spanners so it was finding out the hard way how ‘planes came to bites! We also had a driver for our Chevy truck and could call on “Queen Mary” low loaders and Coles cranes to lift things, but many times we were unable to get cranes or trucks to the site and it was sheer legs and muscle that were used.
[missing photograph]
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[italics] Photo of a crane of the type we used to salvage aircraft during my time with 34 & 67 MUs in 40-41. On show as an Amazon Crane but the same as a Coles one, so have altered it’s title. It is on show at the Yorkshire Air Museum based at Elvington airfield a WW2 bomber station flying the dear old Halifax of 77 Squadron RAF and two Free French squadrons 346 Guyenne and 347 Tunisie [/italics]
The only time I tried to drive a Coles Crane I made a complete mess of it and sheared the drive shaft!! The two Polish operators were not well pleased, but as the could not speak English and I not able to understand a single word of their long and arm waving complaint, it was left to our Flight Sergeant to ball me out, and as he was a geriatric (well must have been all of 50) little notice was taken of it all. The Poles got underneath and removed the bit, replaced it and were operational in a few hours, I was not allowed anywhere near it after!!
The lowloader, Queen Mary, was a specially made semi trailer body, very low platform with wheels exterior, from memory would think the platform about 12 inches from ground, also very long able to take most aircraft fuselages and wings. Extending side rails were fitted that could be locked up so that wings could be stood on their leading edges, one on either side (on sand bags to prevent damage) and strapped to these side rails, the rails were also covered in felt to prevent damage, and strapped to these side rails, the rails were also covered in felt to prevent damage, this left the centre of the trailer free to fit the fuselage on trestles, with propellor removed but engine still in place, some aircraft with long bodies could extend over the tail board if put on trestles to clear, open body to the trailer so that there was no height restriction, only the height of bridges and power cables, standard 1939-40 prime mover, 6 cylinder Perkins or Ford, nothing like the monsters on todays roads. It was called “Queen Mary” because they were so long that the only thing to compare them with was the ship of the same name.
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photo from David Searle-Baker Queen Mary
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Recovering Hawker Tempest Mk. V Wreck
My first job with them was at an aerodrome called Shawbury that was used to train pilots and Navigators, a Spitfire pilot had been shot in a fight with a German fighter and had lost a lot of blood before crash landing beside the main runway and the aircraft had tipped onto it’s back as he had not been able to lower the underbridge. The first job was to make the guns safe and remove any bombs before starting to dismantle the ‘plane, the next job was always to remove instruments that were either secret or likely to be stolen, this in a Spitfire was the gunsight, compass and a clock it fitted, as the new boy I got the job of crawling into the upside down cockpit to remove these items while the rest of the gang removed the wing fairings and bolts to waggle the wings off. I had to get on hands a [sic] knees to get the items off as they were almost on the ground, felt something wet on my head and back as I worked, found when I crawled out that a large pad of congealed blood had come adrift from the floor and I was a right mess, no water anywhere near as we were miles from any building, the crew washed me off with the 100 octane petrol we drained from the ‘plane, but as we sat and ate our lunch of sandwiches couldn’t help keep looking at the blood still under my finger nails. As we sat and ate we saw a training Miles Master coming in to land with the cockpit hood open and the horn blaring loudly to warn the pilot that his under carriage was not down, we all stood up and waved like mad, the pilot, probably doing his first solo landing, waved back with a big smile on his face and crashed, we now had another ‘plane to remove!
I don’t know how the trainee pilot got on, we helped him out and he had no damage but whether he was “scrubbed” or not have no idea (scrubbed thrown off the pilot’s course through some error).
The Spitfire being monococ [sic] construction in aluminium alloys was a very easy aircraft to dismantle and transport, the main wing spar consisted of a series of square tubes fitted inside each other, gradually tapering towards the wing tip, the mating tubes for these being very close to the fuselage, with the propeller removed the body fitted easily into a low loader and the wings were slid in either side being supported on sand bags to prevent damage and strapped to the extendable rails fitted to the sides of the low loader, the guns, ammunition, and propeller being stowed in any suitable position. The Miles Master being of wooden construction was an entirely different proposition, the wing roots were attached about one and a half metres either side of the fuselage making this “centre section” which was not removable about three and a half to four and a half metres wide, when placed on the sides of the low loader these projected out each side a considerable amount and because they were very low often jammed on road side obstructions, this was particularly a problem on the windy narrow country roads with many “hump
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Back” bridges, we were caught only one when the centre section rode up onto the walls of a hump back bridge and very nearly caused the injury to one of the crew riding in the back of the low loader, three or four sleepers lashed to the side rails lifted this aircraft high enough to clear any road side obstacles. We never had enough red flags to fix to the overhangs so it was almost a game to ride in the back of the low loader and lean over as we motored along and steal the flags placed in empty paint cans by the road gangs, as we used the same route frequently from training airfields to our depot I guess the road workers got fed up with us and one day as one of the gang grabbed a flag found himself flying through the air to land in the road, the rotters had concreted all the flags in and they were very heavy, no damage done just a few bruises and wounded pride. Coming back from the same airfield one day we were held up by a new gang with a Miles Master stuck on the hump back bridge walls, to add to their problems their Coles crane was in front of the low loader so couldn’t get to the plane to lift it up, we managed to get our crane in place and help them out, they hadn’t read standing orders! Called to the same airfield with instruction to remove some twenty Avro Ansons from a hanger we through they were being transferred to another airfield, when we got there found the whole lot burnt out in the hanger, looked like an elephant’s grave yard with just the steel tubing frames and melting engines and propellers lined up in two long rows. When we asked what had happened were told that during the night an airman on guard duty saw a low flying airplane crossing the field and identified it as a German one so fired his rifle at it, the plane dropped it’s bomb which landed on the concrete outside the hanger, bounced over the bomb proof doors, bounced on the hanger floor and just missed going clean out the other end but hit a girder and went off. The airman had been put on a charge for firing at an unidentified aircraft!
I was going on my first leave after being posted to an RAF squadron as an aero engine fitter, and at only 17 in 1940 felt a big wheel, My folks lived in Dover and my brother of 9 years would need something from my war, grabbed a handful of .303” ammunition from a crashed training Hurricane, pulled out the bullets and emptied out the charge, would put the cases in a fire when I got home to get rid of the caps and put the bullets back, would impress my small brother. Put the cases in a fire out in the yard and got a most awful telling off from Mum, they were having more than their share of bangs. Next day was about to leave the house to look up at the “dogfights” going on above, Mother said you’ll get killed by falling shrapnel stay indoors, but out I went, and in I went after a few seconds as redhot bits of metal fell around me, I might be in the RAF but my folks and young brother were seeing more of the war than I was, my few bullets were nothing compared to his collection of shrapnel, from both our guns and those firing 12inch shells from France, he has seen more action that I had!!
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We had arrived at a very posh looking house set up on a rise with a well maintained garden with small bushes lining the curving path to the front door and a perfect green lawn. I suppose we did look a sorry bunch with our usual costume of rolled down gum boots, white socks turned over the top and greasy overalls that were well over due for a wash, no hats and most with a few days of beard, long uncombed hair in fact even the ‘chiefy’ could have passed for the robber leader, we had been out on the road for about a week and were tired and hungry when we got yet another job before returning to base for a rest. Chiefy went up to the front door and was answered by a smart looking man who took the Flight Sergeant round the back of the house through a very ornate garden arch way, he soon came back and called us to follow him. The sight that met the eyes was one to make us all laugh, a learner pilot has got into trouble and seeing what looked like a nice open field came into land, too late he found it was a chicken farm with lots of tall wire fences to separate the various chickens, his ‘plane had become wrapped up like a parcel as he ploughed through the lot, but to make matters even worse as his ‘plane neared the back of the house his engine fell off and landed into a rather nice goldfish pond, this cracked the concrete and all the water ran out stranding the fish. The owner was not a very happy man and refused most emphatically to allow us to clear a wide path way back through the mess so we could get a crane in to lift the whole lot out by a back way, no it all had to go round the side of the house and no damage must be done. What a hope he had the radial engine was levered out of the pond and rolled with great difficulty through the side gate, a few bits came off both as we struggled to hold the engine upright but when we got to the front of the house it just seemed to get a life of it’s own and rolled across the lawn leaving giant size foot prints and demolished hedges and flower beds on it’s way. The rest of the aircraft was sawn into bits and man handled the same way, miserable sod never even gave us a cup of tea when we had finished, just growled he would report us for damage we had caused, we all hoped his chickens never laid another egg.
As to the Learner who crashed, he was long gone before we got there. This was not always the case as we did come across the odd bits and bobs and even complete bodies at times, not all RAF either.
For about three months we worked all over the north part of England and Wales, even had to close The Mersey Tunnel one time to tow an American light bomber through from Speke don’t know why or where we took it. We were then transferred to 67M.U. bases in Taunton the county seat of Somerset. The depot was in a large garage on the main road south of the city, has it’s own sports field out the back which we used for general storage during transit, all the low loaders, lorries, and cranes were parked in various streets which had to have guards circulating during the night, our five rounds of ammunition and World War 1 rifle must not be lost or even used,
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it was all we had, another job for the technical people, office and stores people never got this job, perhaps because they made out the lists, one time when we were back at base had to spend the day shovelling coal at the railway station to fuel the fires for the office staff, couldn’t let them get dirty, wonder if Churchill knew that his trained people were waiting on the lazy sods in the office.
This was early in 1941 with the threat of invasion by the German army still a possibility, the sports field was surrounded with a high spiked railing fence. The fence was six feet high made of steel spikes about 3 quarters of an inch in diameter, spaced about six inches apart fitted through holes at top and bottom of steel plates which were made of 2 inch by 1/4 inch steel. I’m sure you must have some around houses or playing fields where you live. The spikes were held in swaged nibs pressed into the spikes when the sections of fence were made this held the spikes in place. We were given the job of filing off the nibs that held alternate spikes in place. We had to file these nibs off alternate spikes so the fence did not collapse, but the “doctored” spikes could be removed. Each one of these then had a number pained on it, all airmen were allocated a spike and on the call to arms would rush to get out their spike, if they could, and fend off the invading hordes of Germans with their Tiger tanks, machines guns and other lethal weapons, no doubt we should have had a major victory as the German troops fell about laughing!!
The C.O. held a dummy run which became a real pantomime as men fought for a spike having forgotten their number and short people couldn’t reach high enough to pull them out of the top rail. Nobody got stabbed but it was a close run thing. We all treated the whole thing as a joke, it is easy when you have your back firmly against the wall to consider defeat impossible, and so many of the daft ideas did work, FIDO, PLUTO, to name just two. This one was one of those that just was stupid!!
The same wally of a C.O. who gave us the spikes decided to make me up to a Corporal, told him he couldn’t because I still didn’t know what rank I had passed out from Halton, and in any case being technical trade had to pass a trade board before I could be promoted. Threatened to put me on a charge if I didn’t put up my stripes straight away to be officially second in charge of the gang, just ignored him and was called up before him a couple of days later to be told he couldn’t promote me for the reasons I had given him, but told me I had passed out from Halton as a Fitter 2 Engine with the rank of Aircraftman First class and my pay would start right away because of the work I was doing, so I did get some thing out of it all. Following on this I was given the job as Station Armourer, responsible for sorting and packing for dispatch all bombs, cannons, machines guns and ammunition brought in from crashes. I was given the relevant Air Ministry orders to tell
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me what to do because lets face it I was not even 18 and trained as an engine fitter, but perhaps the only real airman on the place, I was given the away team half of the sports changing room, the Station Warrant Officer had the other half, a retread from 14-18 war and responsible for station discipline.
One of the jobs I had to do was strip all guns of any bullets “up the spout” as many had major damage and bent barrels, this was never easy, the breach blocks had to be taken out and packed in separate boxes, with a bullet jammed in, the only way to release the blocks was to fire the gun which sent the bullet up the bent barrel and this released the breach blocks, S.W.O. came in one day when I had a pile of Browning Machine guns on the bench all with bent barrels and was firing them one at a time to get the breach blocks out, nearly wet himself, and then a few days later I was burning all the Very pistol cartridges. These were all different colours and were used to signal and identify aircraft. Usually they just burnt with lots of bright colours but this lot started flying all over the place just as he marched out of his office with his cane under his arm, moved pretty quick for an oldy and got back inside his office, seemed to think I did it on purpose!!
Does seem a bit mad perhaps now to do what I did as an “armourer”. But times were a bit desperate you know and everything was in very short supply so if it could be repaired and returned into service we might just survive.
The first 20m/m cannon I dismantled was a problem, had never seen one before had no books on it and had to get the breach block out, barrel was straight and nothing up it, the cannon was about two and a half metres long and the only nut I could see was on the “blunt” end, a large hexagonal nut with a locking tab on it, so behind it must be the return spring and hopefully the breach block, with the “blunt” end sticking out the open door I got to work and the nut kept turning and seemed to have lots of thread, with a bang the last turn flew off and what seemed like yards of spring flew out of the door, and guess who was just leaving the office? The other problems with the 20m/m cannon was the round cartridge drum that fitted on the breach, these always arrived to me battered and bent and the only way to get the shells out was to cut a slot in the case and prise or shake the shells out, I was sitting on the bench with an ammunition box on the floor shaking a drum to get the shells out when the door burst open and a strange sergeant charged in, “Call yourself an armourer” he shouted, “Stop that before you kill us both”. When I told him who and what I was he said that he had never seen a cannon gun in fact he didn’t know much at all as he had spent the last few years at a place called Shaibah in the Gulf and had only worked on Vickers water cooled guns while there, but he did know the coding for the shells I was dropping into a box and some were of a very delicate contact type to explode on contact with the thin aluminium skin of a ‘plane! I filled him in
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with all I knew and what had to be done with each type of weapon and worked with him for a week or so until I managed to get back with my old gang.
Shortly after we were sent on detachment to an airfield in Cornwall called St. Eval, at which were based Bristol Beaufort Torpedo Bombers, they were sent out after German ships and dock installations and had received very heavy casualties.
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Men of 67 MU at Bristol Beaufort Recovery Reg 2nd from left back row
We were housed in one of the Nissen huts and started work right away as there was a Spitfire sitting on top of a dry stone wall at the edge of the airfield, the pilots had overshot, bounced and come to a halt perfectly balanced on the wall, pained on the side was the pilots name and the legend “Sempre in Excreta” (Latin is not my strong point!) Always in the shit! At the end of the runway was a stone quarry and a Beaufort had crashed into it on take off loaded with torpedoes, these had detonated so there was little to move mainly the two large radial engines, one was in the middle of the quarry and our crane soon lifted that into a lorry, the other was partly buried under stone and against the quarry wall so we had to move it out with brute force to get it into a position that the crane could reach, It was hard hot work and we were having trouble keeping our footing because of all the oil that had spilt out when it had hit the wall, except it wasn’t oil but half a man buried under the engine, not a pretty sight but a nurse who just happened to be looking on helped us to put the remains in sacks so that they could be buried properly with the rest of the poor devil. We very rarely had a problem with bodies or parts there of, because the bodies were taken away before we arrived on the scene.
We did have one occasion when we were sent onto the moors to remove a Hawker Hurricane, but it was the wring number and found the pilot still in it, we reported this and found our one a mile or so away. The Hawker Hurricane was a very different type of construction from the Spitfire,
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basically a steel tubular frame around which were fitted wooden formers and these were joined together by wooden strips along the length of the fuselage, the wings were very similar and all surfaces were covered with doped fabric, this was very time consuming to make and repair, much like a model aeroplane in appearance. A fitter from Hawker’s had almost finished this repair to a Hurricane when German bombers gave us a visit to pay back for what the Beauforts were doing in France, a bomb dropped outside the bomb proof door, blew them in and flattened the poor Hurricane! We got bombed out that night so drove a few miles away to a friendly looking field and slept all in a row under a tarp for a few nights until we were given an empty holiday beach house at Trearnon Bay which became our base for a few weeks, when we were not out on a job. Visited St. Eval in the 1980s and they were only just starting to remove the remains of that hanger blown up in early 1941.
During the next few weeks we were constantly on the move all over Cornwall, from Penzance across to Predanack, which is on the other leg at the base of Cornwall. Working on a Whirlwind, twin engined fighter-bomber which had nose dived straight into the ground, on a desolate part of the moors, all that showed was the edges of sheets of aluminium in the ground and lying a few feet away, a hand complete with a ring on, we could not salvage the plane and pilot’s body without large earth moving gear and instructions were received to pull out what we could and fill the hole in, as we worked we heard the sound of aircraft high up and turned to watch a flight of the same ‘planes go by, as we watched one pealed off and dived into the ground a few miles away, heard later that the tail planes of this aircraft were a bit suspect. We always had billets in the nearest place to where we worked, sometimes this was an Army Camp or a pub and in this case we were living in a cafe at Predanack, after a wash we all trooped into the dining room for our first meal and on came a Cornish pastie, about a foot long and looked delicious but didn’t think it was a lot for six or seven hungry blokes to share, but then in came the rest and we had one each!
Once we had to go to a Fleet Air Arm station to dismantle an aircraft, it was in a hanger and we were dressed in our usual scruffy outfits, all these Naval types marching about at the double, and the public address system nearly drove us mad, never seemed to stop with lots of whistles and incomprehensible bellowing, asked one of the sailors what it all meant his answer left us just as ignorant as before. We were in one of the huts and left our truck at the hanger to walk to the mess hall to get some lunch, as we strolled by a hut the window flew open and a loud voice wanted to know what we were doing walking on the Quarter deck and tried to make us run across, not in gum boots we couldn’t and didn’t try. That night being near a town, after 50 years have no idea which one, we all thought a night on the town would be a good change, so managed to tidy ours [sic] selves up and found
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out when the bus left and got to the guard room at the main gate just as a sailor closed and locked it, outside was the queue for the bus which had yet to arrive. “Open” we all said, can’t was the reply because the liberty boat has gone, what a load of rubbish, if you were on a ship you could understand it, if the Navy still do things that way it’s about time they changed from the days of Rum, bum and Nelson!! Soon got away from that stupid place probably didn’t know there was a war on we certainly did and spent all our days clearing away the rubbish caused by it. Often we had to remove crashed German aircraft that had been shot down, most were just a heap of burnt wreckage with often the remains of the crew inside, not recognisable as such just bits of bone that had not been found for burial, at other times we would have a complete ‘plane with little or no damage, there we took to pieces if not able to fly out from where they were, went to a special place to be put together perhaps with parts from other ‘planes to make them airworthy, and test flown to find out more about that type. Once we were called to an aerodrome near the coast where, I think it was a J.U.88 had landed the pilot thinking he was over the channel in France, the duty officer seeing the plane land had driven out in a jeep and crashed into the tail to stop it taking off again, we had to get the bits from a depot that was full of the German ‘planes and replace the damaged parts. Some of the early R.A.F. bombers such as the twin engined Handley Page Hampden were fitted with special balloon cable cutters to the leading edge of the main wings, these in theory would be tripped as the cable slid into it’s jaws and an explosive charge would fire a razor sharp chisel cutting the cable allowing the plane to get free, after a number of M.U. airmen had lost fingers while man handling wings during salvage instructions were issue that these had to be tripped before any work was done on the aircraft, I tripped the only one I worked on and it chopped the end from my screwdriver! An American Flying Fortress had crashed somewhere in Devonshire, can’t remember where, and what it was doing in England I don’t know, though the Yanks came in much later, anyhow we were told to get it and it must be sent up to Liverpool. The biggest thing we had tackled, got the fuselage, wings and engines away alright but the centre section was very wide and when stood on it’s leading edge was exceptionally high.
The local police were always asked for advice on getting past low bridges and electricity wires, spent more than a week travelling a few miles only to find yet another low bridge in our way, chiefy was fed up and so were we camping along the road where ever we go stuck, most aircraft that we worked on had a fire axe stowed on board so we had a good selection of sharp ones we used for all sorts of jobs, we cut foot and hand holes in the centre section and cut off with the axes quite a few feet from the trailing edge which was now the top and were able to get back to the depot next day, thing was only worth scrap anyway. After about 5 months of this work which in most cases was just garbage collection, not what I had been trained
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at great expense to do, I saw a notice on orders calling for volunteers to go over seas. I put in my application and was accepted, given seven days posting leave and reported to the assembly camp called I think Paddington, hundreds or more like thousands of airmen of all trades were gathered there and we were all issued with both tropical and cold weather equipment, had two large kit bags of the stuff to lug about plus personal kit in a small bag. After about ten days of this which included a medical we were all paraded on the very large parade ground to get our instructions to more to lorries and get abroad a ship, suddenly a voice bellowed out “575931 Miles R.J. fall out and report to the parade adjutant” was that me? “yes” said a bloke next to me who had become a friend. So out I marched dragging bags in front of all these assembled airman, saluted after dropping the bags and reported my name and number, still not 18 I was told I was too young to go where these men were going and told to hand in my kit and report back to my unit, this lot went to Russia I found out later and many did not return, some drowned when their ship was sunk and others just died from the cold!
– Reg Miles
The URL of this page is
http://www.geocities.com/milbios/Milesbio2.html
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Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S.of T.T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U.s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242 – 246 – 511 Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 3
27 Air School, Bloemspruit South Africa,
B Squadron, Service Unit, R.A.F.
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I didn’t spend long back at Taunton before the call came again to report for over seas posting, I’d had the special leave so on the train to Blackpool this time.
The Leaving of Liverpool “ring any bells” a film about children forcefully taken from England during and shortly after the war, the parents and children never told if the others were alive and the children taken to Church run HOMES in Australia and treated as slave labour, in fact in many cases the children built the homes (as in collective enclaves) As I said a very different life style, we were all led to believe that they (as in any one in authority even self proclaimed) knew best and slavishly carried out their instructions to the letter. Children were abused, physically, mentally and sexually, both boys and girls, how did it happen, only because authority was not questioned until recently and only now is the truth coming out of those children’s tragic lives.
Bearing all that in mind you may not be surprised to read that I like my peers did as I was told without question.
The journey out to South Africa started from the joys of Blackpool, a holiday resort in the north of England, no work, billeted in houses normally
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used to accommodate the vast numbers of “visitors” from the industrial towns of the north during their summer holidays. The local “landladies” welcomed us with open arms, we were a source of income to them, not that they opened too wide the food cupboards, but many daughters opened their hearts and arms to us, we were all young healthy and free. Had my first go on ice skates at the local rink and after a few falls soon mastered it and really enjoyed it. Soon became time to board ship S.S. Mooltan 20,000 tons of sheer misery at Liverpool and head out into the Atlantic that was waiting for us with all the dirty weather it could find. April 1941, could well have been April fools days for all I know.
By buses we arrived at grey Liverpool to stand for hours on a grey dockside in front of a grey wall that stretched to the sky and disappeared into the grey distance, only relieved by a black hole in it’s side through which countless airmen staggered carrying all their worldly goods contained in two kitbags and a small case. One of the kitbags contained our normal selection of issue clothing, the other, two complete outfits one of tropical shorts shirts etc, the other cold weather clothes suitable for Russia!! We had no idea where we were headed and it was hoped neither did the enemy! The kitbag not required was taken off us well into the voyage, the Russian one I am now very happy to say!!
The Mooltan 20,000 tons of aging ship, massive to us but now would only be classed as a small ship 100,000 tons seems to be the average, 250,000 tons on the large size!!
Our turn came at last and through the hole we trooped to find ourselves in a black cavern, directed through doors that were about a foot off the floor so that dragging kitbags jammed and brought forth words of complain not heard very frequently in church. Now completely lost and descending even deeper into the bowels of this black tank we were at last told that is where you stay until told to move and that heap there contain hammocks and those hooks there are where you swing them and those tables and benches are where you eat and some can sleep on them and the heads are there and don’t move!!
So we sat and surrounded with our bags wondered what we had done to deserve this, after all we had volunteered for overseas posting, but this?
A few thought to see what was through the next doorway but only more of the same lots of airmen sat sitting waiting to be told what to do. Ah a sergeant has arrived, ‘you and you come with me’, not me but a couple near who left their kit and followed as detailed, who return some time later with urns of tea, a scramble to find our own kitbag and delve into it’s contents to find our ‘mugs airmen’ hopefully still in one piece.
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These two had been delegated as our mess orderlies and would fetch our food at the times arranged, well at least we should be fed and the tea was hot strong and sweet, by this time it was getting late in the day not that we had any idea whether the sun was shining or it was raining, the urns were returned and the message came back to sling your hammocks and get in.
I was just about 18 from memory and certainly the youngest in our “room”, places on the benches and tables had already been taken by those in the know. The Mooltan was a slow old converted cargo ship. As such the accommodations were happenstance and crowded. The only hammock hook left was over the stairwell and passage way. This is where I had to sling my hammock, which was over the stair case leading to the lower toilets. I slung my hammock and endeavoured to climb in and found myself on the floor the opposite side, I had tied it too tight and had no head room so that as I climbed in I pushed myself out again, instructions from those near who were well bedded down soon got things “ship shape” and I crawled in to assume the shape of a banana, not at all comfortable and desperately aware that a trip to the heads should have been made before becoming cocooned like this.
Sleep came but was soon interrupted by the rustling noise as hammocks swayed and rubbed together, we were on the move but this soon stopped and dawn found us moored in mid river, we had been allowed on deck soon after stowing our hammocks and being fed, strict instructions being issued that not too many on one side as the ship could capsize!! A sea of men everywhere, no small piece of deck was vacant, and only the grey Mersey, grey sky, and crowds of grey clad men were in view.
There we stayed all day and other ships moored near, we were fed during the day and tried to wash with the salt water soap we were issue with, it didn’t foam and currently did not remove dirt, in fact it left a grey sort of coating on the hands which was difficult to remove, seems that life from now on going to contain logs of grey!!
And so to “bed” or do you say and so to hammock? only to be woken up feeling very sick and scrambled out of the hammock to find most others were doing the same and a rush to get on deck for some fresh air which may stop that horrible feeling. It was dawn a very grey dawn, and directly behind us was a very large grey ship, completely without modesty showing us her (it’s?) grey bottom as it lunged up and down, we likewise were playing silly buggers and this motion was no doubt the cause of our distress, in the distance could be seen other ships, some had things like broom sticks pointing about them and we presumed that they were to protect us, I like many other now wished that we could be torpedoed and sunk, they only relief in sight for that awful sinking feeling!
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That night, all the hammocks swung together as the ship rocked in the heavy seas and the rush by some people during the night to get to the “bogs” before they spewed up often ended just below me, perhaps it is no wonder that I spent as much time as I was allowed on deck away from the stench, but always got herded down when it got dark, the Atlantic was not a very pleasant place to be at that time apart from the gale that seemed to rage more each day, we were only too aware that U Boats would enjoy sinking a troop ship and the chances of being saved in that stormy water was about nil! It was cold and smelly in my hammock as we sailed out into the Atlantic Ocean.
The days passed and gradually we were able to take a small sip of tea a tiny crumb of bread without heaving it up straight away, as we and the other ships headed into the grey Atlantic, the clever ones amongst us saying that we were headed for America, others convinced we were going into the Med, and an even more knowledgeable bunch with a compass sure we were going south. The sea was empty but for our escort. Our convoy, being one with important cargo, a troop ship, was doubtless given a course away from the shorter more populated routes. We saw no planes escorting us or other ships other than our own convoy and escort. Some bits and bobs were sighted in the sea, just a few empty crates probably slung over board by any ship friend or foe going that way. Nothing else.
Funny things that stick in the memory after all these years, apart from the agony of sea-sickness which passed after about a week, was and still is the smell and taste of the bread loaves we were all given each day as part of our food ration. I had now recovered from sea sickness and was able to eat my share of the food on offer, what we were serves up I have no recollection apart from the small loaf of bread we were issued with each morning which had to do us for the rest of the day. Eat it when you like but you wont get any more until the next morning. It was the most enjoyable bread I have ever tasted, of course I had teeth then and was very hungry, as all young people are, but after so many years I can almost taste it in my memory!!
The grey has passed and the grey ships with guns, one of which was a battleship, left us as we entered Freetown, not the town you understand but the estuary leading to it. We called into Freetown after three weeks of utter misery. Freetown is on the west African coast, so it did look as if we might end up somewhere hot but where no one knew. Apart from one poor sod, one of our airmen though not from our mess, who had not stopped bringing up just bile for the last three weeks, no one from the troops got on shore. The lad who was taken ashore with seasickness that had lasted since leaving UK, was in a very bad way with dehydration.
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We moored away from the town itself and have no memory of other ships near us but guess they were there. We did not get ashore, not that it looked very inviting, mud huts and mud was all we could see moored out in the channel. After one day on a ship that actually stayed in one place horizontally we set sail again for parts unknown.
I developed a raging tooth ache and reported sick, the ships doctor showed me his equipment for treating tooth aches, it consisted of an armchair and a few rusty looking plier type instruments, said he hadn’t pulled out any teeth and which one hurt, showed him and tapped on the wrong one and told me to come back in the morning if it is still bothered me, funny thing the pain went away and only returned very many years later when all that was left was a hollow shell which crumbled to pieces when the dentist gripped it!!
Sailing away from Freetown the weather became much sunnier and it was now quite evident that south was the way we were going, the sea became less grey, but cannot remember the other ships, perhaps they no longer were showing their bottoms, flying fishes flew from our path dolphins rode our wash, and life became just about perfect, apart from the fact that the 10 shillings (about a dollar) I had boarded with was long gone (no pay until we arrived where ever we were going). I smoked a pipe but would smoke cigarettes as well and the only ones on offer free from my “room” mates were Springbok, a very strong South African fag oval in section and only given to me because those that had bought them felt sick after a few puffs. It is one of the other things that I remember after all these years, the horrible smell of the Springbok cigarettes, which was all I had to smoke the six weeks we were aboard. Perhaps in retrospect a good time to give up smoking you might say, but in those days they were issued free to some units and certainly the Salvo’s and other friends of the forces gave them out to all service men. The opiate of the masses it would appear!!
We got into smoother waters and the sun shone and most of the Navy escort left us, and there really is a sort of magic about the sea when you are far from land, suppose most of us got a good rest and were well fed for six weeks and enjoyed the days relaxing in the sun, watching the flying fish, dolphins and strange patches of seaweed, and of course we all had to be “welcomed” by King Neptune.
One thing about a troop ship there is no such thing as privacy, we slept close to one another, ate our food touching elbows, and washed and showered in sea water which does not get any dirty off only ingrains it further in the skin, even using the special soap that was provided. Toilets had to be increased and the solution on this ship was to construct on the top deck a trough about 30ft or 9 meters long and fix along this some 20 or so squares
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of wood with holes in, water was pumped in from the sea one end and ran over board out of the other, a very friendly loo indeed, the rocking of the ship was a worry some times when your next door neighbour’s evacuation born on a tidal wave came visiting!! To enliven an activity that was already fraught with some peril, people with a distorted sense of humour nailed a stub of candle to a piece of wood, lit the candle and then set it on its journey down stream to warm the posteriors and other appendages of the poor captive sufferers!!
We travelled south but then to confuse all and sundry we started to go north and with our very limited knowledge of where things were on the earth’s surface we were again lost, after six weeks of a war time sea cruise we entered the Port of Durban and once more were on dry land which to our consternation would not keep still and behaved much like the Mooltan had in Liverpool.
Perhaps it is not to be unexpected that most if not all were glad to get off the Mooltan after six weeks when she docked in Durban on the east coast of South Africa. The group I was with were taken from the ship to the rail and we began the last part of our journey to our final destination which was Bloemspruit R.A.F Pilot training station near Bloemfontein in the Orange Free State, where we were to keep the 104 Miles Master aircraft flying day and night. A much better job that I had been doing since leaving Halton.
The railway journey from Durban to Bloemfontein lasted one whole day but can’t say I remember anything at all about it, on arrival at 27 Air School about ten miles outside the city which is the capital of the Orange Free State we were shown to our barracks, decent brick buildings, single storey, with stable type spilt doors and the usual basic beds and lockers, but heaven after the ship. Food was so strange at first, lots of fruit most of which we had never seen or heard of and many different dishes made from maize, one like porridge called “mealie meal” served at breakfast I thought wasn’t too bad but soon learnt that the natives ate it so South African whites wouldn’t beneath their dignity. We had a lot to learn about the South African white way of life, to see the native workers on the flight line covered in oil and grease as they did the dirty jobs and then watch them fishing in the bins where we emptied the left overs from our plates, made us recent arrivals very angry, but we were told not to interfere, we were guests in the country and our ways were not the right way to treat these “savages”. If we offered them the “butts” left from our cigarettes they had to hold out both hands in case they had a knife in the other and would stab us, it did seem and still does to me that the white population went in fear of their lives and in many cases rightly so because they did treat the natives in a terrible way and at last the right thing has been done but the Dutch Boer has a lot to answer for. These Boers had an organisation based in the Orange Free State (think they
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now call it The Free State) that went about blowing up power lines and post offices and was very pro German know the name but my spelling of it will be far from correct (Osiver Brantvag) told you it was all wrong!! I made a number of friends while stationed at Bloemfontein, the Florie family for one, they picked me up at the bus stop when I had missed it one night and gave me a lift back to camp, he was an accountant and she was after a bit of ‘rough’ not 18 and dim as a Toch H lamp didn’t recognise the invitations handed out every time I stayed over night, frilly things always had been left on my bed by mistake, “I’ll just put them away, do you like them?” was only one of the things and her husband I’m sure thought I was giving her one, would have done if I hadn’t been so thick!! One night at their house they were having the usual meeting of the tennis club, very few blokes but lots of pretty young girls, suggested that they might like me to do some toast on the open fire for all of them, funny thing it wasn’t some thing they had ever done, so there I sat toasting slice after slice and spreading each with lots of butter, calls for more coming all the time, the family cat came to see what I was doing and I just spoke to it calling it “Pussy”, a deathly hush descended over the room and then a few stifled giggles and one of the chaps wanted to tell me some thing outside, pussy was the local name for that part of a girls body that men seem to want to get into so no more calling cats pussy.
Another person I got to know was Nabiha Masoud (think that’s how to spell it) she and her large family were all from Lebanon and would you believe classed as coloured, which is only one degree above black and not to be mixed with, the Florie family would have nothing to do with her even though she had her own ladies hairdressing business and good at it, tried to get me not to see her or her family, but apart from “Dad” the rest of her folks were very nice to me and always had a place at their table for me, Dad thought things were serious so didn’t want her getting involved with a Pom, we were in fact just good friends and perhaps I saw her just to say “up you” to the white population. There is a town called Margate down the coast from Durban and I did write to the Mayor who invited me to visit the town and be their guest, but never took up the offer. Dac Dacre was an ex Halton “Brat” like I was and we got on very well together, we arranged to take a leave together and as we could get a free railway pass decided to go to a place called Muizenburg this is a seaside holiday town on the shores of False Bay, we had booked into a YMCA hostel and spent our leave there but the train journey lasted all of two days and did get a bit boring after a while, miles and miles of very little followed but some more, had a look at Cape Town and little did we realise that not too many months would pass before we again found ourselves in the area, in fact in a transit camp between Muizenburg and Cape Town waiting to board ship back to England and flying over Germany as crews of bombers. My mother’s father had a brother who had moved to South Africa many years before and I managed to find them in a small town called Krugersdorp near Johannesburg, they invited
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me to stay with them on one of my leaves so I took the offer up and spent two weeks with them. Very interesting for me as my uncle had a building firm and I went about to see how things were done, one of the sons was an inspector of mines and arranged for me to go down a gold mine and also see all the processes of getting gold from the ore.
There are two reefs bearing gold in that area, called north and south, can’t remember which is which but one is very wide and is made up of very white quartz pebbles around which can be seen the glitter of gold flecks, the other reef is quite narrow and in places only inches wide but is very dark even black in colour and the gold can be seen quite easily as small nuggets. Both of these reefs go down into the ground at an angle so that new shafts are sunk to reach the reefs as they get deeper in the earth and further away from the original shaft, each new shaft being much deeper before it reaches the gold bearing ore. The very large heaps of brilliant white dust from the treatment plants can be seen for miles around Joh/burg and when the wind blows cause painful eyes and noses.
The mine I went down was very deep indeed and the lift travelled at such speed that one felt slightly air-borne as it descended the earth. The area at the bottom was huge and the passage ways leading off very large and well lit, as we moved away towards the mine face things got steadily hotter until we reached a place where a native was working a jack-hammer in a steeply sloping crack removing the small but very rich ore piece by piece, all jack-hammers also have a water pipe connected to prevent that miners curse of silicosis, so we had a very wet large black man working hard in a very narrow and hot space, he still was able to give me a big white toothy grin, but what he said I do not know, the noise of the hammer was terrible! After an hour or so of this we returned to the surface, glad of the fresh air and my shirt at least a chance to dry off from the high humidity underground. The first part we visited was the Stamp house, the noise here was unbelievable, row upon row of steel hammers pounding the ore as it slid beneath them washed down by streams of water, sheets of corduroy were used to catch any free gold after the stamps, these sheets were taken out periodically and burn to get the gold, the slurry then passed over copper sheets with mercury on them which also collected gold, not sure how or in which order this happened, it is a long time ago!! The slurry then entered very large tanks open at the top in which cyanide was dissolved in water (cyanide is a very deadly poison) the gold was dissolved by this mixture, this fluid was then pumped to a centrifuge where any remaining rock particles were extracted, the fluid which now looked like clean drinking water, but was far from it, was pumped again and ended up in mile long sheds which were full of troughs that contained hundreds of separate boxes filled with zinc shavings, as the liquid passed through the zinc the gold stuck to the zinc, and the next process melted the zinc shavings in a furnace which was then poured into an
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inverted cone shaped mold [sic], on cooling the cone was turned upside down, banged and out fell a very large cone of zinc with a small gold top, these gold knobs were cut off by hacksaw and tossed in one corner, when enough had been made, were themselves melted and poured into newspaper lined ingot moulds, lots of these bars of gold were stacked against the wall and I was invited to help myself if I could carry one away, tried but it flattened me to the floor and had to be lifted off me by the ever grinning black workers. The zinc was re-rolled into sheets and in one corner was being turned again into shavings on a very old lathe by the still grinning workers.
So far it would seem that all I did was visit and enjoy but this was a pilot training ‘drome, flying went on 24 hours a day and our days were spent servicing the 104 Miles Master ‘planes on the daily inspections. The Masters was made of wood and plywood, much like the Mosquito of later and much greater frame. The Miles Master was an advanced training aircraft that trained pilots in fast single engine ‘plane management before they became operational on Hurricanes or Spitfires. Mark 1 Masters were fitted with Rolls Royce Kestrel engines (fore runner of the Merlin) some of these were even equipped as fighters with four Browning guns during the panic of 1940, Mark 2 Masters had Pratt and Whitney Junior Twin Wasps.
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Servicing Miles Master Trainers at 27 Air School
With the many hours they were flown each day, some very hard landings and the general wear and tear of pupil pilot use they were becoming very hard to keep airworthy, even had one do a forced landing at a place called
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Dewetsdorp which ended up on it’s back. As I had spent some time in England salvaging Miles Masters I was in the gang that went to collect it, still have some photos of the job.
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Miles Master Recovery
The salvage crew was led by Sergeant “Jock” Brown and was made up of members of the flight servicing crews at 27 A/S. A Queen Mary low loader was not available nor was a crane which made the task more difficult, sheer legs being used to lift, turn and load the ‘plane. As far as I know the pilot did not die but would have needed to “duck” a lot from the amount of cockpit damage. As bad as the airplane was, great care was taken to salvage the ‘plane without further doing further damage. This took a great deal of work, including some careful maneuvering [sic] over a narrow bridge on the way back.
104 American Harvards were flown in and my mate Dac and myself were given the job of checking these and making them airworthy for use, they had been shipped to Durban as deck cargo, and although sealed before loading, some had had their canopies opened by the ship’s crew, salt water had entered and causes much damage, not only to things that could be seen but many radios had been ruined and props had been turned so that ports had opened, we found many that had damaged pistons on the con rods due to salt water no wonder the delivery pilots had complained that some were gutless and rattled a lot. I joined the Camp Concert Party and band, played the fool on the camp and Bloemfontein stage and played the trumpet very badly at camp dances, practised like mad but still caused the lead trumpeter to shake his head in disgust.
Notices were on the boards for aircrew volunteers, Dac and I were a bit fed up with our treatment regarding promotion, we did the work and other got the credit, funny it’s still the same fifty years later!! We put our names in and after various interviews were sent to Cape Town to await shipment back to England.
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– Reg Miles
The URL Of This Webpage is
http://www.geocities.com/Pentagon/Bunker/7797/Milesbio3.html
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Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S. of T. T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U.s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242 – 246 – 511
Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 4
Lympe, Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire
Unescorted fast ship Mauritania II brought us home in just two weeks. This was more like a holiday cruise, she was a large new fast ship, not over crowded, weather sunny, no real worries about the enemy, just too ignorant to have a care. And good food, all very pleasant!!
We came into port during the night, I suggest for security reasons. We would be confined below decks after dark so that no lights would be shone and any portholes on our decks would be welded shut. As we had no idea where we were it was only at dawn that we found ourselves suddenly in harbour.
We returned to a cold and rationed England, which was a bit of a shock after the land of plenty that was South Africa. I got to spend some time at home. Home was River outside Dover where Dad was responsible for building work for all the various Navy, Army and Airforce units stationed in and around the port of Dover.
After a couple of weeks I was posted to Lympne RAF Base near Folkstone in Kent, not too far away from home. I could cycle home on the odd day off. I was at a servicing echelon on Typhoons there from August 1943, making myself useful until the Flight Engineer course came through.
I arrived at this very basic airfield, grass runway, no hanger that I can recall, road to the village went through the place and we were living in requisioned [sic] houses on the floor, the Guardhouse miles away so we never booked out or in, just went! There I was fit, brown, and fairly knowledgeable, and there they were the service crews, lilly white, half starved, most hadn’t a clue about the RAF. The CO wanted me to stay, rather than take the flight engineer course. He did everything to make me, even tried to bribe me with promotion and an instructors course, turned him down flat, not the best way to make friends!!
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A few days later I watched as the flight sergeant in charge of the service crew was trying to unlock a propellor, up on the steps with a very, very large lead hammer and a long spanner thumping away to release the lock, told him it was the wrong rotation, what would I know?, the engine shaft sheered [sic] off and prop and F/S landed on the ground, another job now to remove the whole Napier Sabre and fit a new one, suppose the F/S got promoted and probably blamed me!!
The Typhoons were very heavy fast fighters. They were fitted with Napier Sabre H section sleeve valved 24 cylinder engines, had 20m/m cannon and rocket rails, and were hell to fly and worse to service. The engines were proto-types and only could do 20 hours or so between engine changes, never saw even one do that much while I was there, the single prop was the biggest in service and only cleared the ground when in flying position by 4 inches, many were bent on take off, and many came back from ops with bullet holes in as the ‘plane went faster than the bullets in a dive and caught up with it’s own fire!!
When I was working on Typhoons heard many yarns, but all “driversairframe” are a bit like fisher men I think. While the story teller was giving the the [sic] usual flyers tale, with lots of arm waving indicating who did what, even the other pilots had a “I don’t believe him” smiles on their faces.
The Typh’s were used as tank and train busters and also for downing V-1 Bombs and did a mighty job. Despite their success, some of the Typhoon pilots were very keen to improve the speed of the Typhoon so they could catch the enemy, be it pilotless V-1 Bombs, or piloted fighters. They were always wanting a few more miles an hour of them and “if only the bloody thing went faster I would have shot down” probably the whole German Airforce!! Adjustments to the engines were very difficult because they were so complicated and really just prototypes still. So they spent many hours with car polish rubbing and polishing every bit to reduce drag. They got us to help also, big things Typh’s and we got very tired of it. Guess they were like me, young and keen and a bit stupid as well, you’d have to be to risk life and limb for peanuts!!
Of course battle was not the only thing the pilots were keen on. The Typhoons were flown from a small grass runway. A sergeant’s mess party was being held one evening when I was on duty crew, we had to see the “dusk” patrol in and prepare them the “dawn” patrol, check everything and rearm and refuel and make sure every thing was as it should be. The small ‘drome was crowded visitors ‘planes from surrounding units and many were parked at the ends of the runway, fog was closing in and the last few of the dusk patrol had been told to divert to Manston, which was a very large aerodrome fitted with FIDO, by air it was seconds away by road it was
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too far to get a lift and still get to the party. All their mates would be there plus many of the local girls and if you didn’t turn up some one else would try their luck with your girl!! All managed to get back in, just one left to land, and here he comes he’s too low can’t see the row of ‘planes at the end of the runaway.
Yes he has but too late the massive undergear crashes through about six aircraft of all types and sizes and comes to earth with one wing low, the prop touches, that one won’t be on dawn patrol, as it taxi to our flight position where we are standing with torches to direct the pilot and hook the ‘plane to our tractor and tow it into position for the morning, the pilot climbs out, says “shit” and heads off for a shower and no doubt a bullet from the CO and even grounding if senior officers have had their ‘plane destroyed. We check the undergear to make sure it wont collapse as we tow it and generally check the damage, this takes a while and as we are doing this we hear the bell of the “blood wagon” in the distance, but too late for any injuries we say so I lay on the ground with one leg in the air and groan as the medical orderly rushes over, but it’s not the usual medical orderly it’s the senior medical officer, who wants to make a name for himself as all the top brass are on the base for the party. Well we didn’t part as friends I must say, but he really enjoyed chewing me out so perhaps that made his day!!
Arriving back at camp after a day with my parents, we slept in empty houses really outside the camp boundaries so no booking in or out, supposed to but why go a long way to the guard room if nobody cared, any how it was early in the morning, near midnight, not late at night as it should have been as I cycled to my billet, as I got off my bike the sergeant of my ground crew called for me to get moving and handed me a bucket of white paint. Our flight line was very close to our billet, and I was told to start painting wide white stripes under the wings of the Typhoons, other bods had black paint. So I crawled under them with buckets of white paint late at night in my best uniform. No idea where the Typhoons were off to, but we were told it was for identification purposes for an operation, but which one? It might have been coastal or near to it, and in support of either Commando’s or Navy, both tended to fire at all aircraft without any idea who flew what!! But why do it in the middle of the night with far from clever painters with large distemper brushes and I’m sure it was water based paint? On 15 November 1943, 2nd Tactical Air Force is formed, perhaps the Squadron I was on was made part of this force and some “stay in bed get the boys out” prat thought it would be nice if the new force were correctly dressed for Dawn Patrol. Whatever the reason for the early morning paint job, my best uniform was never quite the same, every one else had on their overalls!
As it turns out this was the first time that this type of identification was used on allied aircraft, and I Did It!!! These black and white stripes were
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called invasion stripes by others much later. They were widely in use for the Normandy invasion. They were painted to clearly show our ground forces that they were friendly aircraft so we would not lose aircraft to our own flak. Only the Tactiful [sic] Air Force had the invasion stripes. Well before the invasion some aircraft were painted with the stripes to be used as Targets for spotters and Anti aircraft units and also for ground troops to get familiar with our own planes, as marked. Apparently this Typhoon squadron was one of those painted early to get our troops used to the stripes.
I was stationed at Lympne until the end of 1943 when my posting came through to report at St Athan in South Wales to start my Flight Engineers training. Because of my training at Halton and my service work on aircraft my training would be specific to the type of bomber I would be doing my operations on, that was the plan anyhow.
It might be best to spend a moment reviewing the various RAF bombers. First there were the Medium Bombers. The Hampden, outdated before the war started so not used much – bit of a death trap so not to be included.
Bristol Blenheim private design as all decent ones are, Beaufort a torpedo version did lots of damage and raids on shipping in French ports, made the Germans angry. Beaufighter very fast version called “Whispering Death” also used as a night fighter with radar, all types with twin radial aircooled engines also by Bristol.
De Haviland Mosquito, best all round fighter, bomber etc of the war, just look up it’s stats and learn! 4000 lb bomb load, faster than any thing until the jets arrived, 42600 ft ceiling, used by the Master Bombers, fitted with 4 cannon and even with a single 57 m/m cannon. Don’t know what a Master bomber is? They first used Lancasters, would circle the target at a low height during all of the raid, and direct the “Pathfinders” where to drop more target markers, all this done at night of course and we would be called up as “main force” and directed which colour markers to use as an aiming point, and woe betide you if you came in from the wrong direction or dropped anywhere but the correct place. we were usually at 18000 to 20000 ft and could see the Master Bomber back lit by the bursting bombs almost as ground level, a number of back ups would be at our height and when, not if the master bomber was either hit by flak, or by a fighter or as was most likely had a load of bombs dropped on him, saw a Lancaster one time when we had to land away from base that had had a load of incendiaries land on it, not a pretty sight!! Master bomber two would have his own call sign and often with an accent to prevent the Gardens from giving us the wrong information, cunning devils!!
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Heavy bomber Wellington made by Vickers designed by Barnes Wallis (swing wing F1111, Dam busters bomb, and even the Avro York made from parts of the Lancaster) Twin engine geodetical construction, (all little bits joined together to make a net like effect, very strong) covered with fabric, front and rear turrets, two .303 Brownings in each 4,500 lb bomb load 300mph main stay of bombing until the large 4 engined bombers came along, still going strong at the end of the war, called The Wimpey by every one. very many versions from sea search with a lifeboat slung under, to mobile radar and radio station and I remember seeing one flying very low along the coast line with a large ring the size of it’s wing span detecting and blowing up magnetic sea mines.
Short Stirling the first 4 engine one, slow. low and designed by the Air Ministry with short wings so that it would go into the standard hanger, typical stupid desk riders. My log book contains some hours spent as F/E on one, a pretty useless bomber and not to be in the same class as the Halifax and Lancaster.
The Manchester was first operational about the same time as the Halifax but as we all know was plague by engine problems and was a “dead duck” until fitted with four Merlins, the Halifax was also supposed to get RR Vultures but because a shortage was expected was designed for four RR.
Handley Page Halifax 4 engined similar to the Lancaster never gets a mention much like the Hurricane is over shadowed by the Spitfire, but many thousands of them were flying and bombing Germany, while the Manchester was falling out of the sky with failing engines. Rolls Royce produced a 24 cylinder engine really based on two Merlins joined at the sump one upside down, it was only when the Manchester was modified to take four standard Merlins that it became the great aircraft it eventually did become. Both The Halifax and Lancaster had versions with Merlins and Hercules engines, the Halifax with Hercules was much better than the version with Merlins and the Lancaster was the reverse better with Merlins, More versions of the Lancaster were developed during the war and it’s construction was easier than the Halifax, but the Halifax was much tougher and took more punishment before crashing, I trained on and flew them all as an F/E, just wanted to get down in one piece so all were good for me!! 6,176 Halifax were built, their first operational flight took place March 1941.
Both Lancaster and Halifax had 4 .303 Brownings in the rear power turret, mid upper had 2 but had a full 360 rotation and up and down. Some later versions of the Lancaster had twin .5 Brownings in the rear turret, both Halifax and Lancaster had versions with mid under turrets with twin Brownings.
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The Lancaster did eventually drop 22,000 lb grand Slam bombs, called by some earthquake bombs as they were made of high quality steel typical bomb shape and were used to bomb things like bridges which are very hard to destroy, need a direct hit, theses bombs penetrated deep into the earth and shattered the foundations so that the bridge or viaduct collapsed. 7,377 Lancasters were built, their first operational flight took place on 3/4 March 1942.
So I started my training on four engined Lancaster Mark 2 bombers which were in every respect the same as all Lancasters except for the engines which were Bristol Hercules 14 cylinder air cooled radial, all other Lancasters had four Rolls Royce 12 cylinder water cooled twin 6 cyl. vee Merlin engines. Lancasters were the outcome of a design called the Manchester which originally had twin Rolls Royce X engines 24 cylinder X, really two Merlins coupled at the sumps making a cross of four banks of six, these engines were a completed failure and before I went to South Africa in 1941 had worked on one of the Manchesters that had crash landed in a field due to engine failure. A.V Roe (Avro) knew they had a good aircraft and as The Royal Airforce refused to allow them any engines, so scrounged 4 Merlins from Rolls Royce on the “old pals network” and re worked the ‘plane from two engines to four and demonstrated to the top brass what a good all round bomber they had, and so it proved to be in service, carrying heavier bombs farther and higher than any other ‘plane at that time.
I studied the Lancaster and it’s systems including the Hercules engines until I knew every part, hydraulic, air, auto pilot, bomb release gear, undercarriage, you name it I knew and passed with ease my examinations, so much of what I had been studying was what I had been working on for a couple of years, different ‘planes but basically the same in principle. St Athan is a very old and well known R.A.F. Station the R 101 and R100 airships were built there and a “ring” of one of them is fitted to the wall of the huge hanger they were built in, which still stood when I was there, anyone interested in these airships should get “Slide Rule” written by Neville Shute and learn some very interesting facts about these two airships, Neville Shute was an aircraft engineer and any of his fiction books are a good read, perhaps his most well known book was the basis for the film “A Town Like Alice”.
After passing out from the F/E course I was given a short leave and in March 1944 told to report to 1664 Heavy Conversion Unit at Dishforth in Yorkshire and it was there that I joined up with the rest of the crew who had until that time been flying twin engined aircraft. What aircraft did I see on the runway when I got there? Halifax Mark 2s and 5s different ‘planes and different engines so I had to start all over again on systems and bits!!!
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11.3.44, I had to do some initial training to see if I could handle things actually in the air, so it was circuits and landings with a senior Flight Engineer to see how I went. Well we took off OK and did a circuit and came straight in land again, with me operating the various undercarriage and flaps etc as the pilot asked and all was going well round and round until the bumpy air and round and round got to me and I felt sick as a dog after about an hour and asked the F/E if we could pack it up. He looked at me and said if you give in now you are off the course and can go back to your unit, well funny thing I suddenly felt better and got on with the rest of the job for another hour, after that I was always too busy to feel sick.
I have a log book of my time flying, and I include here the information in it from the flights I made as crew member, rather than as a passenger. This began here, with the 1664 HCU, 1664 Heavy Conversion Unit, which means it was heavy conversion unit from 2 to 4 engine aircraft.
Some of the terms on the Log Book shall require explaining. The Lat and Long at the top I have added recently when I bought MS World Atlas and was able to pin point the airfield locations. You will note the first column is the date to help you follow the sequence. This log book records all my flying both training, operational and at Transport Command. C&Ls circuits and landings very boring and mainly for the pilot and engineer to frighten them as much as possible, D.C.O. duty carried out D.N.C.O Duty Not carried out. P.O Lauzon was my first operational pilot, others mentioned on this first page and perhaps elsewhere were senior pilots who had done at least one tour of operations and were being rested before doing another tour of at least 30, all were very much more frightened of the ‘sprog’ pilot than of anything the Boche could throw at them!! PO is Pilot Officer and is really a rank to ensure that the person will not put up any ‘blacks’ and behave like an officer and a gentlemen, probationary period usually 6 moths. FO is not Flight Officer which is a female rank in the WAAF but Flying Officer. 25th Feb 1:32 E Easy was the aircraft that we normally flew when I was with 420 Sqdn, V Victor was our designated ‘plane when with 432 Sqdn, but as we were very new got what was available due to serviceability problems. Will get to each one as I go through my log book, which will be about 30 pages.
Pilot Officer Lauzon asked if I would like to join his crew. The rest were already joined as a crew. I was the last one to join being an RAF Flight Engineer, they needed me to shovel in the coal and to keep the boiler streaming!! As I knew nobody on the course happily agreed, soon realised that all crews belonged to The Royal Canadian Airforce so I had joined a bunch of people who I had no idea of their country or life style, some thing else to study, I was going to be a busy boy! The rest had trained on twin engine aircraft of some sort in Canada and were now ready for the big time.
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We were all very young with different back grounds and likes and dislikes, remember I was with the Canadians who were used to a much higher living standard, more independent than us down trodden POMS (from the Australian prisoners of His Majesty, convicts) So where they had quite a lot of money we did not, all the same Yanky pay, and the food parcels poured in from their families in Canada, when we had leave they went to certain places arranged for them or hit the “big smoke” and found some one to enjoy their pay with, I went home to a shell and bombed Dover, first thing Mum wanted was my ration book so should could feed me, one of my father’s sub contractors always called at our house soon after I got home and from the inside of his very dirty overalls gave me a Black Market parcel of butter, cheese and bacon. My crew always made sure I had some of their surplus food to take home, sugar and jam etc. I could not invite them to stay at my house, one reason was there was no room and another was that I had to have a special pass to even leave the railway station near home even though the local cop on duty knew me. The whole south coast was a restricted area all roads in were manned and high fences were all around so no use trying the fields, took one of my girl friends once, was only allowed to stay 12 hours and had to either send her back to London or both go somewhere else, went somewhere else!! My parents not too pleased but I was on a promise and determined to find out if it was as good as everyone was telling me, yes it was!
After being introduced to the rest of the gang, I got down to serious study learning about fuel systems, tank positions and the fuel transfer arrangements that allowed one tank to supply all engines and many compilations of this, very necessary if flack makes a hole in a fuel tank, need to use that one up first and tanks have to be balanced for the same reason during operations, loose a full tank and you wont have enough fuel to get back home again!! Engine controls are important too, boost and rpm govern the fuel consumption, and which supercharger gear ratio being used is also very critical.
A very brief explanation of boost, revs and supercharger gearing. Boost is the measure of pressure, plus or minus of the air in the induction system of an engine. When a piston sucks in air it increase it’s speed and therefore lowers it’s pressure below atmospheric pressure at ground level (14Ibs per square inch roughly) The more weight of air that can be crammed into a cylinder before it is fired the move power is produced. Hence turbo chargers and super chargers, turbo’s are driven by the exhaust gases, superchargers by gearing direct from the engine, as the aircraft flies higher the air gets less dense, and the power from the engine becomes less, turbo’s and supers pump more air in so that power is maintained, use of ground level increases the power from a given capacity of engine cylinders, an engine without a charger would always show a minus reading on the boost pressure guage [sic].
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The setting of the throttle (accelerator) governs the boost pressure coupled with the turbo or super charger speed setting, the two work together and then setting is done by the pilot or engineer for the conditions at the time (climbing, cruising, etc) components that are a part of the system automatically retain this boost pressure until either a height is reached where the air is so thin that it cannot do so, or changes are made to flight conditions. Revs are the speed at which the propellors go round and relate somewhat to the gearbox of a car, selection of speed is made and automatically kept at that speed by a unit on the engine and one in the propellor itself, bit like an automatic gear box on a car, changing conditions of flight such as taking off and landing require different propellor speeds and reacation [sic] of the flight conditions, feathering which rotates the blades so that they do not “windmill” in the event of an engine failure are also incorporated. Guess it’s not so simple after all and I used to teach this but had the advantage of being able to flap my arms about!!
My first flight with P/O Lauzon was on March 16, 1944 and was Exercise 7&8 in my log book. Exercise 7&8 I have no idea but only took about one and a half hours so not very important I should say.
Our next exercise was the next day, the 17th, and was Local Bombing. This was a training exercise for the crew but mainly for the bomb aimer and pilot to get their co-ordination working together so that the target is hit. Small practice bombs used but sometimes larger ones full of concrete may be dropped.
The next night I was up with another pilot, Fry, for Circuits and Landing exercises again. More night training.
The next morning I was called to fly with yet another pilot, Vinish, for a Sea Search. VINISH is correct, think I wrote “finish” and got a sharp reminder! Sea Search was a very serious matter that was to see us spend all those hours searching a particular part of the ocean with other crews looking for a downed ‘plane, a hell of a strain on the eyes, the sun shining on the moving waves makes it very hard to see anything properly so things are reported that are not there and other things missed, and no we did not see anything.
You will note that I took off at 10:15 am flew for nearly six hours and then took off again the same day with a different pilot at 20:20 being tested on night C&Ls for about 4.30 hrs and that is only the time in the air, lots goes on before and after!!
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Then it was back to P/O Lauzon for two flights in one day, the 20th. Two and a half hours of Local Bombing in the morning then a six and a half hour Night Cross Country exercise.
Apart from actually flying and being checked by a senior Flight Engineer to find out if I could do my job properly, our navigator had to give me instruction on star charts, which star was where and how to use the sextant to take star shots while flying to help in navigation, the F/E position was beneath the astro-drome and it was another of his jobs to do star shots if and when the navigator needed them, the correct star had to be found and a timed shot taken to give an average reading, the wrong star could make life difficult and I can tell you the ‘plane bumping about, nasty people trying to shoot you down didn’t make finding the right star in amongst the millions out there easy.
During this course we also had to take instruction in escape technic’s [sic] both from the aircraft and the enemy, we went to a swimming pool and in full flying gear jumped in the water and tried to turn over an up turned dingy we managed, but could not see it being possible at night in a rough cold North Sea, we all treated it as a bit of a laugh, young and foolish in hind sight.
Our next flight, on the 24th March 1944 at 18:45, our crew did it’s first night operation over France as a diversionary raid to fool the Germans into sending fighters up to intercept what appeared a bomber force approaching targets in their country. This Bullseye Mission was a number of training aircraft that were sent in a direction different than the proper bombers, hoping this would direct enemy fighters away from the real bombers. This diversionary raid turned back before any target was reached and hopefully before any of the inexperienced crews were shot down!! The 1/3 shown on the log was a third of a point awarded towards the total of thirty points needed for a complete tour of operations. “Bullseyes” only counted as one third of an operation. The missions was six long hours wandering about over enemy territory before landing back at base with eyes very sore with looking for enemy fighters that never appeared.
Another course we had to attend was escape after being shot down, this was carried out by senior NCO’s of the Army at a special camp on the Yorkshire Moors, a cold and bleak place, with our instructors determined to show those “Brylcreem boys” what tough meant, we were marched and run about all day, all ranks, some quite senior officers going back on operations for their third tour, were made to wear overalls at all times with no badges of rank and shouted at as if we were new recruits in the Army. Escape training was carried out at night without any warning, doors were slammed no lights put on and we had to get into our overalls and get outside, loaded
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into trucks half asleep, and driven out on to the moors, dropped off in twos with a map, not told where we were and left to find our own way back to camp, the local police, army and the courses just finishing came out looking for us and if found we were arrested and help in jail until sent back to camp. The Canadians were very much anti authority, (much like the Australians I now live with) so nothing was sacred, buses were found in back yards and driven near to camp with lots of aircrew hidden under seats, some stayed out for days being fed and “watered” by lonely wives whose husbands were in the Forces, and said they have got lost and were tired and hungry, some did look as if they had been working very hard and needed a rest. This was our last training in the Heavy Conversion Course.
The fact that this was our last flight was a coincidence. Bulls Eye was not a graduation ceremony. If one was wanted by the higher ups and you had reached a level of training able to do it you went, the needs of the service were what governed what and where you went.
I had completed training and was graded on my performance in the course. Exam result is 73.5% That was based on my flying with instructors and theory of the aircraft systems at HCU 1664, not wonderful but remember I did do a theory and practicle [sic] course just prior to arriving at HCU on the Lancaster Mark II, different ‘plane with entirely different engines, so apart from crewing up with a bunch of wild Canadians, I had less than two weeks to learn all about a new ‘plane and it’s engines, not bad for yours truly. The results of my examination were signed officially by the Flight Engineer Flight Leader, a flight of men can be any number that can be controlled or over seen, a flight of aircraft also can be any number that is suitable for the type, 3 bombers being usual, more for fighters, a number of flight make a squadron, a number squadrons make a wing, a number of wings make a Group and a number of groups make a command as in Bomber Command. Got all that? So the Flight Leader responsible for a number of Flight Engineers under training, signed to say that I had reached a standard whereby I could be expected to do do [sic] my job properly. All trades of air crew had Flight Leaders, Navigator, Gunners, Wireless operator, Bomb aimer, and lets not forget the driver Leader for the Drivers airplane!!
This all ended in due course and our crew were given a posting to 432 Sqdn RCAF at Eastmoor who were equipped with Halifax Mark 3, same engines as Lancaster 2s and much better version of the Halifax’s at Dishforth, so all that study had paid off in the end!! My flying time with Squadron 432 are covered in those pages of my Log.
The RCAF was called 6 Group part of Bomber Command, most airfields had two Squadrons based on it, each was controlled by its own staff and did not always fly to the same targets nor even on the same days of nights.
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Usually the same nation were located at each base, so you had two Canadian Squadrons where I was, 420 and 425 at Tholthorpe as an example with my next unit. I just can’t remember which squadron was at Eastmoor with 432, the Lancaster book I mentioned before gives all the squadrons and I will just look to see which Squadron was at Eastmoor with 432 when they were with Lancasters. Doesn’t help, my book shows an HCU at the same base but that was to covert 432 from Wellingtons I think on to Lancaster II, they then changed to Halifax III just before I joined, need the same sort of book for the Halifax which I don’t have and maybe no one has! To continue both these squadrons, and 432 as well, were part of 6 Group. Each squadron was divided into flights the number I cannot remember nor can I recall how many ‘planes in each flight. I would recommend to you that you beg borrow, steal or even in extreme circumstances purchase a book called The Lancaster Story by Peter Jacobs it is distributed in the USA by Sterling Publishing CO Inc 387 Park Avenue South, New York it’s ISBN is 1 85409 288 8 it is a very fine book and gives much detail of the history and operational types of Lancasters I was given the book by one of Phyllis’s brothers and treasure it greatly.
We flew out of Eastmoor airfield. The airfields were just that, fields, hangers and other buildings had been erected, but I visited some many many years later and just the concrete runway was still there most had been removed for scrap and given back to the farmers, local drag car clubs still use some of them and guess those farmer with ‘planes of their own could land and take off on them. Although I do not recall the details of Eastmoor, I have read that the Standard Airfield design for heavy bombers was to have a main runway 2000 yds, and two secondary runways at about 60 degrees to one another of 1400 yds.
A fence had been errected [sic] around the perimeter and RAF Police patrolled this to keep strangers out, but guess if you really wanted in it would have been easy, gun positions were manned by RAF Regiment people with mainly light guns and fixed posts with bofors. The local towns were in the main villages, been there for centuries still using the roads that the Romans built, a village hall, for all the functions so a trip to one on a dance night would see all the lonely ladies out in force and us being the local best thing since sliced bread were over whelmed with attention, take your pick and hope her husband is not near!!!
Two crew slept in each nissen hut so no need to shout for quiet more like a moan about someones socks which were “humming”, don’t ever remember noise being a problem, none of us played craps or other gambling games like the Americans, guess compared to them our lives were a bit like “The vicar’s tea party”! There were no other ‘normal working hours’ type people in our huts so no problem.
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Life on the Bases 432 and 420 was the usual things. We played horse shoes, pool. I even had to have lessons from the wireless operator on the morse code and key. Buses were laid on to the local villages for the dances which were not all that popular, not too many lovely ladies there!! The odd trip into York but much the same old thing into the pub a few beers and away before the usual fights started between the armies of the Allies. Only those that had not fought anywhere had to prove how wonderful they were, just idiots, bit like the rubbish on earth today. nuf said!!
We didn’t have any “hours” as such when bomber crews, we were expected to be available 24 hours a day , but if “stood down” officially for a number of hours usually until next morning could go out of camp and be back in by 23.59, the usual time for late return from a night on the town.
Stations Order were posted on the various notice boards which would give times of lectures , and other places we had to be, one such was the visit to our camp by the Prime Minister of Canada, we had to line up to be inspected, not to bull parade more like a casual couple of lines of airmen of all ranks chatting away until he got near and spoke to some one, unfortunately the first three or four he spoke to and asked “Where are you from in Canada” were all RAF and not RCAF so when he got London, Yorkshire etc was a bit puzzled, one of the officers took him by the elbow and steered him in the right direction. We all wore RCAF brevets for our aircrew trade so not easy for him to know who was who, on my squadron only the Flight Engineers were RAF the rest all Canadians. The Canadians had a saying that I have just remembered, “Joe for King, home by Christmas” Joe was Stalin and King was the name of the Canadian Prime Minister.
So to recap, we were pretty free to do as we wished most of the time, and I like most others only read any notice board if we thought we were getting promoted, and left all that stuff to our pilot, who knew before we did when and where we were flying etc. That is why I got in such a muddle over my Officer’s interview, mentioned elsewhere I think you will find, just never bothered to read the notice boards!!!
Our missions were at first all night operations. As such I shall have to educate you about night and day in England, Winters starts about October/November and goes on until February/March, some visitors swear it never stops and is winter all year, but the important thing is that in these northern climes daylight ends very early and starts late so a man working a normal day starting at 8am and finishing 4-5 pm will always travel in pitch darkness to and from work. Taking off in darkness at 18.00 hours is no different from taking off even later. Darkness from say 7pm to 7am is 12 hours and we did not have bombers that could last that long and where would they have
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bombed anyhow? Hope that helps, just to take a random looking in the log book 6-10-44 15.45 take off to Dortmund all listed as night flying. Remember England is not too far from the Arctic Circle where 6 months of days and the 6 months of nights happens all the time!! At times we would land fairly early in the evening, but for another random look 15.9.44 22.00 to Keil 5.35 meant we got back to base about 3.30 am debriefing meal etc bed by about 5am, no early night that one.
If there had been a large night force out on a target say a 1000 bomber raid not every place was at the target at the same time, enough problems spread out, guess it would have been chaos otherwise so a raid would start soon after dark and continue until close on dawn when the day bombers took over.
April fools day found me acting as F/E to our Flight leader, Flight Lt. Cooper, doing circuits and landings at night for more than two hours to again check my skills, followed a few days later on the 4th with the whole crew doing the same thing. We passed this ok so now had to do a daylight cross-county to make sure we could go and come back!! The next day, the 8th, we did another “Bullseye”, this one 3 hours 35 minutes long, but were told they didn’t count towards points for a tour!
On the squadron you only got points for what you did operationally. While I am talking about a TOUR, it was a walk in the sun eyeing up the Canadian WAAFs, all who were very pretty and carried about a ton of makeup on their faces, my Canadian crew thought it wonderful, I thought they looked like a bunch of clowns Hey Ho. A TOUR was a certain number of operations 30 being the average but based on targets and what the service wanted so some did more and some did less I did 36, wanted to do more so that my crew could finish with the same F/E, as I had done some ops before joining them, I didn’t say anything to my Flight Engineer Leader but when he found out I had done more than I should have, he stopped me and sent me to get my new uniform as an officer!!! But that was yet to come of course.
On April 10th we flew our first operation, to Ghent, Belgium. The ops to Ghent was in all probability a German ammunition dump, a guess.
The raid is on so after a quick trip to the mess hall for a preflight meal it’s back to the barracks to put on my flight gear which is really only to dispense with the collar and tie, pull on the very large white woollen rollneck sweater under my normal working uniform top, pull on my flying boots and zip them up (keep hoping that the latest ones will be issued to us, these are impossible to walk in, made of foam and suede with long uppers lined inside with sheep skin, they certainly keep the feet and legs warn [sic] but after a few
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uses tend to lose their shape and “become down at heel” the latest ones are made from black leather as proper shoes and the leg portion can be removed by cutting the top off with the small knife hidden inside, more suitable for aircrew to walk away from the enemy after bailing out.
Down to the parachute section with the rest of the crew and draw my chest type chute and harness. On one operation we were told that ALL squadron parachutes had been repacked, a rumour had been circulating that a chute had had it’s rip cord pulled by mistake and all that fell out was an old blanket!! Parachute silk was much sought after during the war to make the “gift wrapping” that men looked for when their girls took their outer clothes off. We always poked a finger into the corner of the case to feel if there was silk (nylon?) inside.
Time to board the truck to take us out to the aircraft, as we called at each dispersal point calls of “race you back” and some not quite so pleasant were made to those climbing out, at last we were at our ‘plane, tumble out and grab our bits and bobs, I had in addition to my chute and harness a tool bag with a few spanners, pliers, bits of useful wire, string etc, other had large bags with the navigation and wireless bumf, and the tails gunner probably had a brick or lump of old iron.
We all climbed aboard to put our things in a position we could grab them if needed, my chute went on the floor in my position, as did my tool box, then I fitted my chute harness on making sure it was tight and properly fastened. down to the tail to remove the elevator lock and start doing my normal checks before we started the four engines, I had an aircraft log sheet to fill in, with what fuel was in which tank, and as soon as we started engines, all their details must be entered., by this time we had all settled in and a quick call was made to check that all intercom positions answered.
Halifax crew positions were spread throughout the aircraft. The bomb aimer’s position was in the nose where he map read if possible our mark of Halifax had no nose gun, it was found that fighters did not attack head on at night, various design changes took place during the war as needed so some had nose guns and some not. Then there was a blackout curtain, behind which was the navigator, then the wireless operator, all these at a lower level than the pilot, wop more or less under the pilot’s feet, up a bit the Pilot and behind him the Flight Engineer, who darted about as required. Then there was the mid upper turret and then tail turret. The Halifax had bomb bays in the fuselage behind the f/e position but beneath the floor but could be got at through panels if needed in the case of a hang up, also bomb bays were situated in the wings between the inboard engines and fuselage.
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In the cockpit where the pilot was were all the throttles, under carriage and flap controls, and the usual flying instruments. My position was also in the cockpit, where I would access the various contrls [sic] and dials needed to keep the plane flying properly. Only on very rare occasions did I have to help my pilots and that was if we had lost an engine and then only on landing. Once when a tyre burst as we touched down did he want a bit of muscle to keep it straight other than that managed without what seemed any effort. The Halifax position for the flight engineer was right behind the pilot, with my instruments, fuel, oil water pressures and temps etc on a rear partition, levers etc to change fuel tanks was either side behind the main wing spar. I had no resting place, no chair, so what I was only the engineer!! If a crash landing was going to be done all the crew expect the pilot could make themselves a safe spot by clinging together behind the main wing spar, so that was no worry, in a crash I would be as well off as the rest.
I was able to stand upright at my F/E position, and also when I assisted the pilot, think I could stand upright at the mid upper gunner’s position but needed to bend my back as I got near the tail, The inside was not pained as such, but from memory was a dark green in colour, probably the anti corrosion coating applied to Duralumin, Alclad and Aluminium sheets used to fabricate the ‘planes. The step up to my F/E position was about 9 inches, underneath was stored the oxygen supply for the whole aircraft, but I could still stand erect with my whole 68 and bit inches of height (the bit is much more important than the preceding 68 for those of us who are in a neat and compact package) I was able to turn round with relative ease, the space being sufficient for my needs, no windows of any kind apart from the roof astro-drome, the cockpit did have sliding windows both sides as well as a windscreen which was a great help to us, to see our way!!!, Both wireless operator and navigator had windows (non opening) complete with blinds for night work, there was also a large curtain between these positions and the bomb aimer nose, which was completely made of perspex in the Mark III version I flew in on operations, as far as I can remember we could all stand upright in the nose section where the nav and wop had seat with tables for their equipment. far from being cramped we all has as much room as we would require, not enough to hold a dance or even a large party but we could all move about with relative ease and reach anything needed to do our job. The fuselage looking back from my position which was just forward of the main spar, was really empty except for the mild upper gunner’s position, his lower body and feet only projected down about half way, with room to pass either side of him, we didn’t have the open side gun positions used in the forts.
During this time we had gradually crept up to the runway threshold and were now awaiting the green from the Aldis lamp, I had left my position to stand next to my pilot at the top of the steps landing down the wop,
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nav, and bomb positions, ready to hold the throttles open as we charged down the runway and to assist in any way wanted, I had already told the skipper that all engines were running Ok and so we set forth to battle.
The tail came up and we reached our “unstick speed” (whatever that was !!) the whole aircraft was shuddering with the effort of leaving the ground, a few skips off the concrete and we were airborne, time to take a breath, it had stopped completely as the trees bordering the ‘drome had got closer and closer, we once arrived back with bits of branches still caught in the undergear, and a failure of only one engine at that time with a full bomb and fuel load meant the end. Up with the undercarriage reduce the flap angle and set the throttles for climbing, synchronise the propellers, fill in the log book, reduce again the flap angle, check engine temps and pressures, change gills to get the temps right, stepping in and out and up to the pilot to do as he wanted, breathing heavily into the oxygen mask, which always smelt of rubber and rust and wet with condensation. I had to keep mine on to receive instructions from the skipper but most of the other crew could leave theirs unfastened until we climbed higher and went on to oxygen.
Back into my cubby hole, standing looking up out of the astro dome to see if we were in danger of climbing into some one else, all clear, down to the top of the steps to pile up the window and pamphlets that I would start to put down the chute later on, check all the engine details again, at every change of engine revs and at a regular period (think it was 15 minutes but not sure the log had to be filled in, a cardboard rotary calculator was used to work out what fuel had been used at certain revs and boost to check what fuel was left in each tank, the gauges were only a very rough guide!!
Not exactly a “Jack in the box” but I always took my job seriously and did all I could to ensure my side of things ran like clockwork, no guesses keep checking and worrying until home again safe and sound.
We had arrived at the altitude we were to fly at and engine revs and boost were reset, oxygen had been switched on at about the same time high speed had been selected on the supercharger for each engine, about 11,000 to 12,000 ft.
The navigator would tell the skipper at what time and which compass bearing he should be on to set course not for the target but the first of the course changes, and so with the constant roar of four engines, our little world of icy cold draughts, a lethal cargo, shuddering rocking in the streams of air from those in front, with many staring eyes looking for any others who might be near us in the black sky, seven young men went about their duty as they saw it.
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It was cold, it was apparently dangerous, if you worried about not getting back you probably wouldn’t, those that were frightened all the time were the real heroes, most of us just did it and were glad to be doing something to save our civilisation, not that we ever know just how bad things were or what a terrible bunch the leaders of the enemy were.
Yes I was a bit frightened on our first operation, but the ones that I always felt sorry for were the gunners. The pilot and engineer could see what was happening but were also very busy not only with flying the plane, but I had to record all the engine and fuel tank details plus other odds and sods. The navigator and wireless operator were shut up in their places with little to see from a small window and were themselves busy with their bits and bobs. The bomb aimer was in all probability stretched out full length looking at the sights below waiting to do his bit and telling us what he could see to help us avoid others and ensure we got where we were supposed to go. But the gunners isolated in their turrets had only themselves to talk to and fear can become a self promoting thing. Being busy kept me from being too frightened to do my job properly, and I can honestly say that I never really felt fear just a bit of apprehension on some operations, but more of that later.
There was no way to tell if we hit the target, not unless we were told so later. Most times, as here, we were not the first on target, it was all organised on “waves” so the thing was usually well alight or just a ploughed field by the time we got there. What we added to this was difficult to say or see from our altitude. The bomb aimer would see all the ground targets and perhaps what happened when the bombs landed. I was busy with my jobs and searching the sky above to help the gunners, didn’t really see a great deal. Sorry I am not able to give you a graffic [sic] picture of bombs falling and targets blowing up, Hollywood might but they live in a dream world anyhow!!
When we returned from our first operation, we were told the mission was only worth one third of a point!
We did not fly again for a week and then only flew a cross country exercise. On the 18th we flew an op to Paris. Ah Paris!!! Do you really think it was lit up??? All we saw were the flashes of bombs going off and the crash and flash of anti aircraft shells trying to get us. Every target we went to sent up flak, the Germans seemed to really hate us I wonder why? Until we started daylight operations we only saw what was lit up by our bombs and must say we didn’t hang about looking at the sights.
A five hour mission. How can it take five hours to fly to Paris you ask? The time taken to get to a target does not indicate how far it was, to confuse
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the enemy bomber tracks were deliberately set out as if a certain target were that night’s one when in actual fact we went elsewhere so the navigator did not have a period of nothing to do but was always calculating when and where to turn onto the next part of the course, gaining or losing time if necessary to arrive on target at the correct time, and checking on drift from winds not as per listed, and adding anything in his log that was of use to others, such as new flak sites. We never flew directly to any target nor flew home the same way, always many twists and turns to fool the enemy, those that chose the easy way home often didn’t get there, we followed the plan as set out by our squadron commanders, in our case it worked!!
Again, only one third of a point for some reason. Two nights later, on the 20th, we went to Lens, Belgium on an operation for which we were given one third of a point again!! I can’t seem to remember any reaction to this grudging point system, good boys did as we were told!! Funny thing is that most of us never really worried about reaching the end of a tour, the mateship of the crew was more important, ie just look at my and others search for old mates we flew with, can’t afford in most cases to get really together but nice to hold hands at a distance!!
On 22 April 1944 we went to the Ruhr Valley, known by all bomber crews as Happy Valley, solid flack from end to end.
Flak was present not just over the target of course. There were flak sites all about, and even flak ships. flak ships were in fact ships moored off the Enemy coast and were very bad medicine for anyone foolish enough to fly over them, guess being cooped up in a ship and see sick some of the time made the crew mad as they were very accurate and fast with reloading. Flak ships were well documented and only the crews with poor navigators or ‘planes in trouble ever went near then, we saw but kept well away!!
A slight shuffle off course, there were many flak towers of our own situated in the Thames estuary which were just as lethal as the ships, some years after the war and many years from now took one of my boys out to one in the first runabout I built, pretty massive things and I took a couple of photos to prove we had been there, our boating friends all turned back halfway and chickened out!!
Back to Happy Valley, the flak was heavy. Dusseldorf was a very serious affair, bits of red hot flak flew about inside the ‘plane as the shells burst, our navigator got hit but fortunately right on the torch in his May [sic] West (flotation vest), made him grunt a bit but he was Ok to get us home again. I had to check all manner of bits that got damaged, seem to remember the fuel control levers, about ten of them got damaged and it was a nightmare of a lottery which bit of frayed wire controlled which tank, but guess I must have
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done the right thing because we got home!! Just remember all this is being done in more or less pitch black darkness with the “driver” dodging flak burst and weaving about for the gunners, none of it calculated to appeal to the faint hearted!! But I wanted to get home as well and could have been on a promise from my latest girl friend, what more incentive could a guy have? Over Dusseldorf we were hit by flack. We returned safely. This was a full point towards our 30 needed.
On the 24th Karlsruhe was the target, and Essen on the 26th, back to France on the 27th to Montzen one whole point for this one, but on the 30th again over France to Somain and back to 1/3 point no idea why.
My log book for April lists 40.15 hrs operational, total 56.05. It is signed by Squadron Leader (rank about Flight Lieutenant shown as F/L and S/L) Officer Commanding (OC) “B” Flight This Officer was in overall control of all LEADERS for that flight of a number of aircraft and men to fly them, The ranks when I was in the RAF were Pilot officer, Flying Officer, Flight Lieutenant, Squadron Leader, Wing Commander, Group Captain, won’t bother with the rest, but the rank did not signal the position held visa vi aircraft operations as these ranks applied also to medical, religious, cook house and all other branches concerned with the RAF so a clerk could be a Squadron Leader if an officer, got it? BUT no non-flying type ever got to be incharge [sic] of operational people, want a riot do you? Unless you had pilot’s wings, very few other crew members ever made it to high rank, had to be a “driver” to get to the top. and so it should be I say!! Driver a term used by non drivers to put them in their place at times of getting about themselves, like chatting up your girl or not standing their round at the bar!!
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Underlined] F/E Reg Miles [/underlined]
May started with an air to air fighter affil. A Fighter Affil was us in a Halifax or Lancaster bombers in daylight practicing avoiding a fighter and a fighter doing the same to us, or should I say trying to us down (in
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theory we hope) camera guns used, good fun if you like sick making dives and climbs, as Flight Engineer the only one of the crew in constant free fall, all others belted in and the pilot having a real fun time as he tries to make the slow bomber do things never designed for it!! Hope that tells you what fighter affil was, never tried it at night guess not too many would land again in one piece, with 19-20 year old boys doing wheelies in the sky with permission of the 24-25 year old bosses!! But this one we didn’t finish due to the weather. Heavy cloud moved in and the exercise was D.N.C.O duty not carried out! My Log book will show by each notation D.C.O. or D.N.C.O. DCO is Duty Carried Out, DNCO has a not in it!!!
In fact May was a bad month only two ops. The first was to France at Le Clipon. I note that on the night of the 19.5.44 ops Le Clipon that there is a small red note 15x500 could be what bombs we took!! The second mission in May was to France as well, to Mont Couple for a grand total for the month of 2/3 of a point. Most of the time was spent night flying about England doing more training.
A recent TV show about drugs, reminds me of something during my service, which many people may not know happened. On at least two occasions we were drugged!! Not too sure which ones it was but, you see we weren’t ever told what was being planned or cancelled, just called up to do a raid. Once we were pulled out of bed to do a raid and given pills to keep us awake, the raid was then cancelled after we had climbed aboard out planes, we were then given more pills to make us sleep. No idea what the pills were or even if they worked!!!
The second of June started much as May with an op to Neufchatel in France for another one third point, and on the 12th six days after D Day, Les Lauzon and I were marshalling V Victor from our dispersal to the main runway, as I unlocked the elevators by pulling out the large pin something slipped and my hand was trapped and very badly cut, I had to be taken to the hospital, sewn up, bandaged and my arm put in a sling. No possibility of my going on the op so a spare F/E was called up in my place.
Later that night after some pain killers and a rest I heard the 432 ‘planes returning and went down to the Ops room where all returning crews had to call in and give our statement of events, what we saw, if we could give any details of aircraft shot down, and all the details that would help to decide if the target had been hit. When the Station Adjutant saw me he had a fit, my mother had just been sent a telegram to say I was missing on operations, my crew had been shot down and would not be returning.
This was a great shock to me. It would also be a shock to my parents. and as it was now just after 8 o/clock in the morning knew that my
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Dad would be at work in his office on the docks at Dover, gave the Adjutant the number and was put through in record time, told Dad I was ok and would explain the details when I saw him.
Each crew shared a nissen hut with another crew, not a happy situation when the other crew went missing, but the padre or one of his staff quickly gathered all the stuff up and it was sorted out by one of the squadron officers to send to the parents, anything not nice was removed. I was lucky my stuff was not sent before I managed to let them know I was still on camp!!
Nothing for me to do on the base so home I went on the next train from York to Dover. Trains, now that is something that you should all enjoy, no Air Raid Wardens, the guard just turned off all lights when an air raid warning was sounded, if a tunnel was near the train would go in there, but we are only talking about trains near the coastal regions, hit and run raids were the ones that tried to get trains, trucks etc but that soon stopped when the RAF squadrons became equipped with plenty of fighters to scare the low fliers away, happened to me a couple of times on my way to Dover on leave but really not a worry, worse things happen at sea we always said. Train travel was dirty, uncomfortable, long delays, overcrowded with troops and all there [sic] gear going about the country, only very rarely would a seat be available and soon given up to the lass with a baby on board or in arms, the corridors solid from end to end, tired people going back from leave and even more tired people going home for a spell away from war, but in some cases going into more war if their home was in the south, not that the north escaped bombing raids but it continued for longer in the south in fact almost to the day war ended, V1s and V2s almost to the end. After I was made an officer I travelled first class, now that was good if I had a travel warrant, not so hot if I had to pay for it, lot of rubbish I thought but must do as I am told like a good boy.
I arrived just after eight the next morning and phoned Dad from the Railway Station, he picked me up and took me home, Mum was at the local corner shop and post office, all the staff knew me and also knew about the telegram.
I did not notice a great deal about the Normandy build up, the landing happening on the 6th. We flew over the south of England on our night operations and sometimes were on our way home at dawn we would see the build up. As I usually spent time with my father in the Dover docks while on leave would have seen what was going on. But remember Dover was always very busy and some parts were off limits to every one, any double decker buses used on that part of the coast had all the top windows locked and pained on the outside black so no view of what was happening about the place.
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D Day itself, however, must have come and gone without me noticing it. A bit like V Day and J Day. I was in all probability flying somewhere, or coming from somewhere by car, train, boat, or foot, just never registered, but see years later the crowds in London celebrating, guess they were lucky to be there at that time.
Being home with a wound, I thought I would have some luck with the local girls if I spun the yarn that I had swum the English Channel with one hand, didn’t work out that way because a couple of days later I had a big lump behind my ear and a raging headache, high temperature and not a well boy at all. Dad took me to the closest Military Hospital which was in fact at Dover Castle (built by William the Conquer 1066), beneath which miles of tunnels had been cut and a large and modern hospital installed, I was told that I had an infected scalp, the poison was draining into a gland behind my ear and would take a while to heal, perhaps brought on by a combination of shock from my injured hand and the loss of my crew, a close bond exists when people depend on each other for their survival and air crew had a very close bond. I was taken by ambulance to an old country mansion up the valley a few miles inland from Dover, this was on or about the 10-12 June 1944, no medicine was available to treat my condition, just aspirin for the pain and high temperature, I lay in bed staring through the large windows hoping for sleep and return to health and wondering what had happened to my crew, night time was the worst, nursing staff all asleep upstairs and every one else snoring their heads off.
Then to make matters worse the Germans started sending over Flying Bombs on the night of the 13-14 June and every night and day after that, these pilot-less aircraft had a rocket type motor which had a pulse mechanism that gave them a strange but most recognisable noise, when the noise stopped they just fell out of the sky and the one ton of explosives made a nasty mess of anything underneath. They were programmed to fly up the valley where I was laying sick in bed and on the opposite hills from my bed were 20 and 40m/m quick firing guns, which of course fired at each and every one they saw or thought they did. I swear they were firing straight at me and thought it very unfair that after putting up with Jerry firing his guns at me now my own side were doing the same!
After the war there was a newspaper article showing the location of all Doodle Bug strikes in Kent. I still have a copy, and it is copied elswhere [sic] on this CD.
I was in that hospital for more than a week until one afternoon the doctor seemed to think I was ripe and cut into this lumps behind my ear and out popped a golf ball sized ball that looked like wound up white wool, all pain went and the wound soon healed up,.
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A few days at home to get my strength up and I was told to report to 420 Sqdn RCAF at Tholthorpe in Yorkshire, where I was crewed up with Jim Tease as pilot and the usual other members of E easy, they had lost their F/E somehow can’t remember now why, but they were a nice bunch and as I had done a few more trips than them, was an old hand!!
One such trip they made without me Jim has only recently told me of. On the 25th of July 44, Jim relates, we started for Stuttgard with over-load petrol tanks in the wing bomb bays, and the fuel lines were plugged so we could not get the fuel from them into the main tanks, so we had an early return. He then says “think you were the F/E but book says Naish”. His Book is correct.
The new crew to which I was assigned was as follows. Jim Tease Pilot, Bridgeman Bombardier, Nicklen Navigator and best man at my wedding!, Baker Wireless Operator, Vaughan Gunner, and Yack Gunner. Our ground crew were LACs Jones, Milne, Parker, Smith and Sgt Berry. All were RCAF.
When I was stationed with 420 Snowy Owl RCAF Squadron our motto was ‘pugnamus finitum’ which translated mean (so I’m told) ‘We fight to the finish’, now my long time RAF mate, (Halton, South Africa etc) arrived on the companion Squadron at Tholthorpe, good looking always got the pretty girl, 425 Alouette RCAF Squadron motto ‘Je te Plumerai’ “I shall pluck you” how appropriate for a French Canadian outfit, the re-write by all and sundry is painfully obvious, even more so for my mate Darce, got through the war OK but lost touch in 1947 and just hope he is still doing what he always did best!!
Our first op together was on the night of 28th July to Hamburg in Germany, the port inner lost all of it’s oil over the target, flack put a hole in a pipe so we returned on three engines and for some reason it wouldn’t feather so that was added drag but we made it back in one piece, and all felt good that one was over.
On the night of the 31st we were over Deuf-en-Ternois and had a slight argument with an ME109 we both tried to get into firing position and the Jerry pilot realised that he might come off worse if he didn’t go away which he suddenly did, we were happy to see him go!! We again had problems which meant we couldn’t return to base but had to land at Skipton an emergency aerodrome equipped with FIDO.
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Landing away from home usually would be on a FIDO drome. Once landed, our ‘plane would be towed clear of the runway and dumped for us to sort out in daylight, we would get our heads down wherever we could and as it was often nearly dawn by the time we had sorted out our problems we would get some more fuel get the fans fixed and fly back to base, where we would then be de-briefed have a meal and either get some kip or get ready for the next one.
August 3rd daylight to Foret-de-Nieppe in France target an ammunition dump. Flying at night we all went our way and took no notice of friend or foe unless forced to, by daylight the powers that be decided we should fly in, and practice formation, all very good for them that always get lost or need to hold hands, not us we know where to go and what time we should be there so get out of the way and follows us if you like!!!
Perhaps I should try to relive the first daylight raid I went on, that would have been 3:8:44 Foret-de-Nieppe. I mentioned before that as far as flak we never had a free ride, well the flak this first daylight one is well remembered.
It seemed all very strange at first to be able to see what we were doing, not having to squint with hardly any illumination to read gauges and find things by touch alone, so a bit like a holiday as we set “sail” to our target. All our friends around us, not I hasten to add in formation, but at time close enough to be able to recognise some and even give them a wave as we passed close. We of course were heading in the correct direction for the target, where some of the others were off to we did not know, kites flying off all over the place, and yet at night we all arrived where we should be, but how we missed one another in the dark is a mystery. Thinking about it, all the navigators were in their little cubicles without reference to what was happening outside and were working out their own headings taking into account the wind directions and the aircraft speed, so were doing their own plans to get to the target on time, bit like modern motorists taking different roads to get to their work places on time. Any how the skipper and I looked at the mess of planes going every which way and remarked that some of them must be mad, not us we knew where we we [sic] going. Gradually things sorted themselves out and a few of us were going in roughly the same direction, not all at the same height I might add but you can’t have everything can you? As the holiday spirit continued we saw some of our ‘planes cross our path and joined us, where they had been no one knew, but we had a gaggle of bombers heading towards the target. Crossed the coast of England and could see the French coast coming up, no need for the bomb aimer to tell the skipper and I but the navigator would welcome the information and the fact that we were not alone anymore!!
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“Ten minutes to target” came through the inter com from the navigator and as was usual a heading for the skipper to take as soon as we had dropped our bombs, often a lot of noise over the target so best to get our escape route sorted before going in.
And there was the target the first wave had been in and were on their way home again, but it was impossible to get to the target, one solid mass of bursting flak, not enough room between the bursts for even a small ‘plane let alone a bomber. The skipper and I stared through the windscreen, we did not say anything but guess he felt as I did that this was going to be one hell of a trip, the holiday was over that was for sure.!! The bomb aimer was crouched over the bomb sight giving directions, only the skipper and I could see what was in front of us but in we went and all was suddenly revealed to us what we could see were the shells that had burst, the ones to worry about were the ones that were on their way up, not quite back to the holiday spirit, but survival was now possible, the great puffs of stinking smoke were swept aside as we juddered from near misses and kept on course to our dropping point, a quick look around the sky showed our friends doing what we were doing and guess we weren’t the only ones to have had a bit of a fright at our first daylight op.
Daylight operations were less stressful then night missions I would say over all, though we didn’t know about stress then. We could see what we were doing as we took off and every one in the crew could do their job without trying to see with a very dim light, the wop and nav could even see outside through their windows, not having previosly [sic] seen the bursting flak, and burning ‘planes, the first time in daylight may have been rather a shock for them!!! For our pilot I’m sure it made life just a little easier, taking off in the dark with a full load, not able to see where you were on the runway or how close to the end and it’s obstructions you were, for me it was a strain but for him trying to physically lift the beast into the air must have been a constant worry, and landing back in the light at base where he could see all the other circling ‘planes, the runway not a shadow but there in all it’s concrete glory was much easier than trying to figure out where everything on the ground was and where he was in relation to other unseen aircraft. I suppose both kind of operations had their good and bad points, at night you crept into the target like a black cat in a black room, unseen you hoped but concerned with contact with both fighters and your own friends, navigation difficult because of lack of ground sighting, landing and taking off harder, even taxing to a dispersal difficult at times. In daylight everything could be seen even you over the target so no hiding in clouds, just fly in and drop the bombs and get out again, not sure which I preferred, if you survived all were good!!
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We had fighters flying with us to keep the enemy ones away, so just a little of the holiday spirit came back, but on future ones we had the sight of bombers falling to the flak, my most vivid one was seeing a Flying Fortress some miles away have a wing shot off and counting the parachutes that came out as the ‘plane tumbled over and over and eventually disappear through the clouds. But for this trip there was none of that, and later it was very nice to see all the other squadrons from the many ‘dromes in our part of the world circling their airfields to go into land, some had a few bits hanging off them, and I suppose some had injured aboard, but home was near at hand a mug of coffee well laced with rum and one more to enter in the log book as DCO.
August 4th daylight again to France a pilot less plane storage dump at Boiss-de-Cassair. These were the V-1 Rockets, or Doodle Bugs as they were called. All we could see of the target was really only a gap in the forest with the ramp for the doodle bug to be fired up for launching, and the rest of the site was hidden in the trees,. I guess the local French Resistance would have sent the information by wireless of the location. Afterwards, not much to see when a number of bombers have dropped a few tons of bombs on a target. We used 500lb and 1000lb bombs on these sort of targets. Not too sure what our maximum bomb load for the Halibag would be but must have been at least 6 ton, but please don’t quote me! The area looked like a very poorly ploughed field after we had gone.
Regarding Bomb Loads this what Jim Tease, our pilot, has in his log book and I feel he is correct in what states. “We made many trips with 16x 500lb bombs, others were 9x 1000lb + 4x500lb. only one trip with a 2000lb + incendiaries, no record of taking a 4000lb believe the bomb doors would not fully close on a Halifax if one was loaded, bombs and petrol load would depend on the target and it’s distance from base”.
August the 5th daylight yet again to France this time ammunition stored in caves at St-D’Esserent. As usual there was no way for us to know if our bombs hit the target, whether we exploded the ammo dumps inside their caves or not. The explosions caused by our bombs 500, 1000, 2000, 4000, bombs going off do tend to make a lot of smoke and fireworks so unless we were on the ground hard to tell our bombs exploding from the enemy ammo or target going up, we did sometimes get a report days later from our briefing officer to say “well done target gone”.
It is a bit hard for me to explain about what was saw on the ground both in England and over the enemy, you see when I was flying passengers in Avro Yorks, from UK to other parts of the world, one of the first things passengers used to say as well climbed up to 8000 ft our cruising height was “Oh look the sun is shining” they didn’t seem to understand that it always is!!
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The highest we ever bombed at was 24,500ft all crew members with paddles going like crazy!! But that is still well over the cloud layer. Because that part of the world is more often than not shrouded in cloud people forget that above the clouds there is always sunshine. So you see most times we were over cloud, never saw a completely cloud free sky.
August 7th night operation to bomb Tanks and artillery in the German line at La-Hougue. You will note that August was a very busy month, nearly every day we were out either day or night, can be a bit confusing to remember what and where we went, guess one target is much like another, lots of flak, bits of hot stuff flying about just ajumble in the memory, one thing that does stay vivid and I really can’t be sure just when it happened or which target it was, only know it was at night and could have been in August. I think it was this mission to La-Hougue.
We took off on a very dark and rainy night and were told that the cloud and rain would clear just as we got to the target, we seem to have started our night flights very late at that time. Well we climbed to our cruising height and were in thick storm clouds, listening hitting us and rain very heavy, the whole aircraft glowed with static electricity and large rain drop slid along the radio wires like illuminated ping pong balls, to burst as they hit the fins and rudders, the ride was very bumpy and the skipper and I tried going up or down to get clear of all this storm without any luck, just before the target was reached we flew into bright moonlight, bombed and returned within minutes into what looked like a solid black wall from ground to the sky and flew in this muck all the way home, I see we landed at Tilstock on Fido one night so perhaps that was the night, have a vague feeling that we were one of the very few who made it to the target that night.
August 8th Daylight to France to bomb oil storage dump at Foret-de-Chantilly. On the way home from this mission, or perhaps one of the other daylight missions, an enemy fighter came toward us. The Germans, however, seemed as cautious as my crew was. There were plenty of targets in the sky for the fighters so why risk getting shot at if you could creep up on a crew too lazy to do their job properly. So when this fighter approached us in daylight our gunners gave him a warning burst at a distance and he just turned away. However we watched as he dived straight on another ‘place about a couple of miles away and shot it down. That crew had not been alert and did not see him coming. We were all on our way home, but the time to relax was on the ground not in the sky.
August 9th night operation to Foret-de-Nieppe to bomb ammunition dumps. What does this mean, you might ask? Was it like they show in films? Like most people I often view WW2 films on the box and have
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always wondered which war the markers were intending to show, certainly not the one played a little part in. You see when a bomber is shown being attacked by fighters or anti aircraft fire there always seems a lot of shouting and the intercom is full of talk, not on any bomber I flew in, or passenger one either.
So let me go through what I and the crew did. On the ground we were the usual young, bugger about, chase the girls, have a drink etc boys, but once in the ‘plane that all changed and the pilot, skipper or skip as he was known was boss, not in any heavy handed way but no task was started without his ok and all functions were reported to him.
So he and I marshalled the aircraft in a position allocated to us for that night’s raid on the perimeter track leading to the runway in use, there we left it while a last meal was had, briefing concluded, and we as a completed crew were then taken by truck to our ‘plane. The Canadian Salvation Army called at each ‘plane as we waited to board, handing out cigarettes and chocolate, and a last fumble in the layers of clothes was made to get rid of any urine likely to cause pain, no toilets on our “kites”.
A green light was shone from the small caravan parked at the end of the runway to tell us it was time to climb abroad, this caravan was painted in large black and white squares, a Perspex roof blister was used to signal to the crews and need less to say it was towed away before we started to land back after our raid, with the way some of us landed it would not have lasted very long in one piece likewise the occupants!!
Each one of the crew settled into their place and checked that all was ok with their bits and bobs, the pilot would then call each position in turn (not by the persons name but what position they occupied, ie rear gunner, navigator, etc) and each crew member would reply along the lines of “OK SKIPPER” I was often left to last and was given the order to start engines when my turn came, after all we running satisfactory, I would log the start time and all pressures and temperatures etc, the navigator would no doubt make a note in his log of this time also, when our aircraft letter was flashed from the control caravan we would taxi onto the runway, I would select what angle of flaps the skipper wanted, set take off boost and hold the throttles behind his hand to ensure we stayed straight along the runway. As we climbed up I would only raise the undercarriage and flaps as he ordered, setting climbing revs and boost as he wanted, and would without any order synchronise the engine revs on each side so that the propeller blades did not rotate in respect to one another. If we were one of the first in our squadron to take off we would gradually climb to the operation height and circle the ‘drome until all our aircraft were present, not that we could see much on a dark night but we had a set time to “set course for the target”.
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During the climb and setting course for the target one very important job was the charging and locking of the Hydraulic accumulator, this was an emergency charge of hydraulic fluid which would be enough to lower the undergear and even the flaps if we were lucky, should damage to the engine which drove the pump or the system itself be damaged. Was just a large cylinder connected to the hydraulic system filled with air (what this was pressured to I have forgotten only 56 or so years ago so sue me for having a bad memory) fluid was let into this cylinder and charged to a certain pressure (sue me) and the cock turned off so the fluid was held under pressure by the air also in the cylinder, in an emergency the undercarriage would be set to ‘lower’ and this cock turned on and hopefully this stored fluid would lower the gear, Got all that? Phyll just read the first part I sent and was rather surprised that I could still know what to do but not sure if the RAF would still require my service!! Back to the plot!!
As we reached about 12000ft I would change the supercharger speed to high, make sure all the crew were on oxygen, and fill in all the details in my log these included petrol consumption and which tanks I was using, I always tried to have an equal amount of fuel in each tank by the time we reached our target so that should a tank be punctured we only lost a small amount of petrol, but each time I changed tanks permission was asked from the skipper and he was informed when I had done it.
There we are drifting along trying to make sure we didn’t bump into any of our own ‘planes in the dark sky, all lights were at dim, mine to fill in my log was at a glimmer when wanted, all the pilot’s instruments lights very low and the blackout curtain between the bomb aimer’s position and the navigator and WOP very tightly fastened, both working with minimum lights. And it got cold, the gunners and bomb aimer had heated suits but even they felt it, as for the navigator his hands were too cold at times to hold a pencil and asked the Skip if I could direct hot air down to his position, The skip and I already partly frozen but to get there and back we needed to know which way so hot air it was and some of our bits that might be wanted in more pleasant times went into cold storage.
There was no chatter between crew members, and if someone left their mic on by mistake he was soon reminded of the fact, young as we all were I am reminded of very professional we were, perhaps that is why we survived to tell our tales!
This professionalism was needed. One night we had a Halifax with a mid under turret, not a standard feature in earlier models, and a gunner was added to our crew to man it. The gunner we were landed with saw more enemy fighters in the 6 or so hours we were airborne than I think were
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available to the Germans at any time during the war. This excitability was not helpful. We go rid of the mid under and that gunner.
Why we survived and others didn’t was because we took notice of the experts (those pilots and crews who had done it lots of time) you don’t fly straight and level thinking of nothing much, but weave and bank slightly so that the gunners get an all round view of things, there is no blind spot under the tail if you stay awake. No need for a lower turret to fill that blind spot then.
I can only speak for myself but guess all the crew were feeling as I was, and that was that our navigator would take us there and back, our gunners would spot the attacking aircraft in time and either shoot it down or scare it off, our pilot was second to none and would steer us through whatever came our way, our radio operator would get a fix, receive a message, and let us know what was happening, our bomb aimer would always hit the target, and I would keep the old girl in the air until we got home safely again. So there was no need for lots of chatter we all did our jobs and depended on the others to do theirs.
The navigator would sometimes ask the skipper if I could do a star shot for him, over my position I had an astro dome, would unload the sextant from it’s case hang it from the hook, wind up the clockwork 2 minute time and after I had found whichever star was wanted tell the skipper and of course the navigator I was ready when they were, the navigator would tell me when to start and I would press the trigger and try to keep the star in the mirror., at the end of the two minutes a reading of the average of all my shots would come up on a panel which I would give to the navigator, on the ground I had been averaging 2 to 3 miles, not as good in flight but handy if other navigating items were not up to scratch.
The bomb aimer was in the nose during the flight and gave what information he could to the skipper but the navigator also heard it and it would be something like this “Coast coming up skip” “crossing the coast now”. Now we were over enemy territory.
Details of flack ships and sites seen in action would be reported much the same, no panic just facts. The gunners would report fighters positions and would not fire unless ordered to. We were told that on some nights our fighters would be in the “stream” so gunners watch out for them, and they would circle the German dromes to shoot down any fighters taking off or landing, the Germans did that to our bombers early in the war but as we got air superiority it was our turn to be the nasty ones. Still, Fighters of any type all were enemy until they proved otherwise. Very few of either nation came
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near us. In most cases the fighters saw we were a threat to them and went elsewhere.
Although there was sufficient ammunition for whatever may occur, our own use was very minimal and mainly used to test fire the guns soon after airborne, our job was to deliver bombs and drop them hopefully at the right place, which we seem to do most of the time.
One night standing in the astro dome doing my bit of searching the sky I looked up and saw a FW 190 almost within touching reach just above me, would not have been 10 feet away. I told the skipper and of course the gunners wanted to have a go, but as the skipper said we are supposed to be bombing and will just slide away but if we see one the way back shoot the bastard down. The FW covered the sky, was flying quite close and not much faster than we were, no doubt we could have given it a very sore bum. But the skipper rightly said no, could have all gone wrong anyway, maybe his mate was close at hand and while we blazed away at one, another could have had us who knows?
Remember that this is flying in darkness. We had radar, but not for seeing other planes. We used radar in a thing called H2S, shows as a small bulge under the fuselage of bombers, used to show a map of the ground and useful for bombing on nights with full cloud cover. Radar, good if you are a fighter but what good would it do us, never switch any radar on even H2S unless needed, gives out a signal for the enemy to follow and get you, switch it off and use the mark 1 eye balls.
There were very many different anti fighter systems used, these names are all either tail warning devices (which caused more trouble that they were worth) special aircraft with German speaking radio operators who would tune into the German fighter directors and give conflicting directions, The Germans would do as we did and use people with distinct dialects to stop this, microphones were installed in the engine bays and this sound would be sent out on the fighter wave lengths to stop the information from being received. Gee was a navigation aid using three or more radio beacons and a special receiver, window you know about but many different versions of Radar were used to block fighters, G-H, Oboe, Serrate, Monica, ABC, Corona, and many names I either never knew or have forgotten were all warning devices fitted near the tail to warn rear gunners of the approach of night fighters, I suppose some lives were saved until the Germans had a crashed ‘plane to work on and then it was just the reverse, switch it on and get caught! All of this electronics, if on board for this mission, would be in use or ready for use while we moved towards our target through the night sky.
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The navigator would also tell the pilot that it was time to start “window” and at what rate, another of my jobs, as was the dispatch of leaflets to inform the enemy that it was time to give in, why didn’t I ever keep some??? So you have a very noisy ‘plane with not much chatter going on all the crew going about their jobs quietly, checking with the skipper if required and all hearing what was being done to keep us safe.
The view from the cockpit at night was minimal, the occasional flare of a bursting shell which changed to continuos [sic] bursts as we got near the target or passed near flak sites, the halfseen shapes of other bombers or fighters with muffled flames from their exhausts, from the astro-drome on a clear night, the dark blue inverted bowl of the sky pierced with a multitude of twinkling lights, but these often shaded by the dark shadows of friend and foe as they passed by.
Dark nights and heavy clouds were the norm, rain and lightening greeted us most times, eyes strained to see what was not there, but ready to give a warning of any contacts either friend or foe.
A master radar controlled searchlight may catch us and very soon we were “coned” no panic, every one closed one eye to retain night vision, and either the bomb aimer or the rear gunner would give the pilot instructions about the best way to get out of it, usually to dive down the master one and do very sudden sharp turns to one side, always got out before any real damage was done, and never ever thought we wouldn’t!!
Now we were nearing the target and the ‘plane jumped about as we flew through the wake of our bombers ahead of us, on a thousand bomber raid at night over the one target things get a bit hairy. Some of the sudden jumps are not ‘plane wakes but the burst of anti aircraft shells trying to send us down, but at night you see the flash, hear the rattle of splinters, check that all is well with the crew and our ‘plane and just carry on. The navigator would tell the skipper than it was say 5 minutes to target, the bomb aimer would have set his bomb sight to drop the bombs in a certain pattern, we had wing and fuselage bomb bays, and with the right pattern the pilots had an easier task to control the ‘plane as it lost it’s load, a 2000Ib ‘cookie’ really gave us a quick lift when let go, I can imagine that some of the Lancasters that carried and dropped 12000Ib and larger “earthquake bombs” really hit the heights when relieved of their parcels!
Now all eyes were searching the sky even harder than they had been, searchlights were weaving their way across the sky, catching a plane which was lit up and looked just like a moth around a lamp, sometime they slid out of the light, some time they suddenly flashed into extinction, and some
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times the flashing of guns was seen as a fighter chanced his luck amongst the bursting anti aircraft and was answered by the bomber gunners.
The flashing of bursting bombs, rattle and crash of anti aircraft shells bursting, searchlights sweeping the sky and settling on some lone ‘plane to be followed by the stream of incendiary bullets, all make the hearts of the night bomber crews halt for just a fraction as they go about the job of beating the foe into submission. Hearts once young and tender soon become hardened to this show of defiance, but not to the sudden eruption of flames at their height as one of their own is hit and spirals to destruction, “bastards” comes through the intercom from all quarters and the empty bottles, bricks and old iron brought for this occasion are pushed out of gun turrets and down flare and ‘window’ chutes, the rage is personal you can’t do this to ours is the feeling.
All in all over the target it was quite a busy place to be and we still had to reach the aiming point drop our bombs and beat a hasty retreat. Each plane that was hit was reported and logged by the navigator, new anti aircraft gun sites logged, ‘window’ and leaflets pouring out the chute, bomb doors opened and from the bomb aimer ‘steady, left steady left steady hold it hold it and the magic BOMBS GONE, bomb door closed, new course from the navigator and turn for home, but still aware that his was perhaps the most dangerous time, many crews relaxed and never got home. So search the sky dodged the ack ack and searchlights, perhaps put on a bit of speed by dropping a few thousand feet, and again that most welcome call from the bomb aimer still in the nose ‘coast coming up, crossing the coast’ and now I could eat my bit of chocolate, and just ease a little.
The wireless operator would be giving weather and other information to both the skipper and the navigator, as the navigator and wop sat next to one another many messages were passed by notes to and fro, but one that sent shivers through us was
“Intruders reported over the ‘drome skip” not often but meant we could not relax even when we arrived back at base, never got caught, guess our night fighters got up and sorted things for us. So on a normal return to base we were greeted by the interlocking rings of lights from all the multitude of bomber bases in Yorkshire, and each one flashed it’s own recognition red light to welcome it’s pigeons home, no radio silence now as there was prior to take off, call in make our letter E EASY and given a height and position in the queue, and as we were called down and moved up in the queue sometimes had to loose our turn to one of ours with dead and wounded on board, or no fuel left or any one of the things that happen to planes that will go out searching for trouble, down we go and I stand by the pilot and do all the actions in reverse, undercarriage, flaps and so on, all the others are
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strapped in but not me I just stand next to our pilot and help him as and when wanted, down we go another perfect landing and taxi to our dispersal, the crew climb out to wet the grass again while the skipper and I switch off everything, lock the brakes and controls, and make our own way to a quick piss, climb in the waiting truck and head for debriefing.
Now we would give our version of events while we are handed a large mug of coffee liberally laced with rum. Here we report the sighting of the sudden eruption of flames at our height, which we knew to be one of our own being hit and destroyed – the sighting that sent us to throwing junk down at the enemy. But at de-briefing, we were told it was on a “Scarecrow” shot up by the enemy to make us afraid. But it didn’t, it made us mad and nothing the briefing officer could say convinced us that it wasn’t one of ours failing to their death. So was the whole thing counter-productive by both sides, we just got mad not scared, so the enemy lost that one and we never really knew if there were such things as “Scarecrows” just kept heaving out the junk.!!
After debriefing, we hand in our parachutes, and head for a meal and bed. Our ground crew would be busy checking E Easy for faults, some I will have reported on landing to them, the camera film will be taken from the bomb sight and on it’s way to processing, and a hush will settle on this and many airfields while the weary rest for the next effort, but usually woken up by the roar of engines being tested for the next one.
The next one was August 12th, a daylight run again to France. The target this time was Foret-de-Mont Richard, more ammunition dumps.
August 18th Night to France to bomb the Railway Marshalling Yards at Connatre. must again had a problem because we landed at Skellingthorpe, returning to base the next day.
August 27th daylight to France to bomb a construction site at Marquise – Minoyecques being built to launch flying bombs on London.
I must add details of my selection interview by a senior RAF officer for a commission, My Flight commander had asked me to put in for a commission and when I failed to do so, gave me a direct order, sat me down and made me fill in all the forms, I just forgot all about it and rather than play the usual games that Canadian Air Crew used to while away the hours between operations of horse shoes, billiards and pool, I managed to convince the Station Engineering Officer to supply me with a hut, tools, bench, and a worn out Hercules engine. This I proceeded to take to pieces and section so that every one who was interested could see the inside of a very complicated sleeve valve engine, and perhaps treat them with just a
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little more respect! I would check with my pilot each day if we were flying and if not cycle out to my hut which was away from the main area and certainly not in range of the public address speakers. So I happily worked on my own getting my clothes well covered in oil and the aluminium dust from the sawing and filing which clung to everything this mean that I had to wear really old uniforms when working and must say that after a few hours in my hut did not look too special! A breathless Flight Sergeant burst in through the door and shouted with the little breath he had left ”Your name Miles?” When I replied yes it was, told me that that public address (Tannoy) had been calling for me for some hours to report to Head Quarter for my interview with Air Commodore. Said I would go back to my barrack room to change “No you won’t, I’ve been looking for you all morning and you go there now” Didn’t want to be an officer anyhow so who cares, arrived at Head Quarters on my cycle to be met by yet another Flight Sergeant, if anything more angry than the first, “Don’t you read Daily order Miles” I walked into the waiting room to find all other applicants polished and shining in their best uniforms, sat in rows like birds on a fence, my own make said “Hard luck Reg” Before I could answer yet another Flight Sergeant with great glee said “Miles you’re next” So In I went to stand in front of the table behind which sat My Squadron Wing Commander, The Base Group Captain, My Flight Leader and the imposing figure of the Air Commodore. Their eyes were all focused on the notes they were making about the previous applicant as I saluted and stated my name rank and service number. Eyes were raised and a look of horror passed over the faces of each one as they looked at this dirty silver speckled scruffy airman. The Air Commodore asked why I had not appeared when called before and how had I got into this condition. It seemed to me that only the truth would do and so I related my story of the engine I was working on and said how sorry I was that I had caused so much trouble. The Air Commodore asked each of the other officers if they were aware of my efforts and no one did, “ring the Engineering Officer and check while we question Miles” he confirmed my story and said I was doing a good job and hoped it would be finished before I left the Squadron. While this was going on The Air Commodore and I were chatting away about my service history and how far I had got with the engine, finally he said “I shall be pleased to welcome you into the Officer’s Mess in a few weeks time, we need more people like you who just get on and do things” So I walked out head high through the waiting room and said to all and sundry “I’ve got mine good luck to you”
Quite a busy month trying to help our ground troops push their way through France. I have not mentioned the training flights also carried out between operations, so that apart from the odd break we were flying most days and nights. My crew and I must have had some leave during the first week of September because my flight record for that month is a training flight on the 9th and a note that I had had some more practise at flying a Halifax,
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we only had one pilot on board and that was Jim Tease so if he got injured or killed who would fly us home? That left only me who did at least know how things worked but as I had no flying training on small aircraft it was very difficult to manage something so big and slow to react to the controls, alter the angle of the control column and it seemed ages before anything happened so learners always over correct and you end up with a ride like a fair ground switch back, I practiced whenever I was able always in daylight and most time on the return flight from an operation, tried a few times landing on clouds, more forgiving than the ground, think I could have got back to England ok but landing without a crash I’m not so sure!!
Back to France in daylight to bomb a German strong point at Le Havre on September 10th. I seem to remember that we were one of the last on target and all that could be seen were bomb holes on top of bomb holes, The RAF and American Air Force had complete air superiority so we had only flack to contend with and that could be very accurate because the Germans use Radar tracking.
September 11th daylight to Germany, to the dreaded Ruhr Valley, to bomb a synthetic oil plant at Castro-Rauxel. Our height for this drop, based on the aiming point photo, was 16,500’, and our bomb load was 16 500lb bombs. We hit it smack on and our photo showed that, still have my copy given to us, and we were given a guided tour of 6 Group Bomber Command in recognition of our skill.
The tour we had of 6 Group Bomber command was more for the Canadian guys, so they could oggle the Canadian girls, told you before I was not impressed so just saw lots of lush offices and big boards with meaning less maps and figures on them. Waste of time I thought but the rest of the crew liked it so that was OK.
September 13th again to Germany in daylight to bomb the railway marshalling yards in Osnabruck, I have a note that it went well so presume the target was destroyed, daylight targets were a bit scary after night ones but soon got used to it and at least we could see what we were aiming at and whether we had been right on target.
September 15th A night raid on the shipping port of Keil in Germany, this was a 500 bomber operation, we were coned by about six radar controlled searchlights on the approach to Keil, with German night fighter hanging about out of the cones, all had to keep at least one eye closed as the light was very bright and if we managed to get out of them the fighters would pounce as we would all be blind, Jimmy Tease handled the bomber like a fighter diving and side slipping all over the place even at one time diving down one of the lights, and got us out, we were however hit by flack
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over the target and the perspex nose fell right off, Red Bridgeman the bomb aimer had to hold the black out curtains between his position and Nick Nicklen our navigator while I wired them together, Red had to stand with his feet over nothing all the way home to hold the curtain against the howling gale that came in, Nicks charts had all ended up down the fuselage mixed up with the bundles of window that I was pushing down the window chute.
These were sorted out and Nick went on with his job of guiding us home, from my notes looks as though we or some of our Squadron hit the target so a good prang was noted.
I do remember this next mission, a daylight raid on one of those massive guns built into the ground with a barrel hundreds of feet long pointed at London. This was September 17th. The target was in France at Boulogne, our height in my log is noted as 2000ft. 2000ft is very low for bombing could get damaged by the bombs in front of you going off especially in slow old things like Halis – Lancs. This was the only low level bombing I ever went on!!! Although we would bomb from 2,000 feet, we flew down from base in Yorkshire at about 8,000 feet. This was a good cruising height for our aircraft, as we passed over many cities, towns, airfields, hills, barrage balloons, tall chimneys, and other obstructions for low level craft.
When we got to the English coast lowered our undercarriage and flaps pulled back the throttles and dived down to 2,000 ft over the channel. The lowering of flaps, undergear and reducing engine revs helped us to quickly reduce our height, the channel is only a bit over 20 miles wide not a lot of distance to get a great old lumbering kite down low and level out and on course to give the bomb aimer a chance to fund the target.
The dive over the channel was to get us down to 2,000ft quickly, at the low height we were certain to hit the rather small target and not the surrounding empty fields or buildings. We also had to have time to make the approach without crowding other aircraft. We had to watch out for ‘planes all round us because, at this altitude, if we were too close to one in front we could get our ‘plane damaged by a bursting bomb from the plane in front. So not quite the “milk run” it would appear to be.
The flight down to the target on this trip must have been a change, able to see some of the country side. Although the whole operation only lasted 4 hours, and so not a lot of time for sight seeing, no doubt the gunners and bomb aimer had a nice view. The only time I had to look was when I took a moment as we flew over the village where my parents were living, but I did not see any street or bit that I could say, “that’s where I live”. It is surprising how difficult it is to recognise thing from the air that you haven’t seen a few
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times from the air. But the skipper and I as usual were busy making sure we got there OK. Sounds as if he and I were always busy doesn’t it? Well we were, bomber pilots had it tough, long hours at the “office” in all weather conditions, responsible for a number of other people’s lives, not forgetting their own. My job was to help him, so I did, as best as I was able. I also wanted to get home again!!!
Once we were down to 2,000 feet, we pulled all our hanging bits back on board opened the taps, then bombed this target with all we had, again being very careful not to get too close to the bomber in front. All I saw was a few acres of mud which kept leaping into the air and rearranging itself, guess another case of over kill!! After the target, we climbed again after bombing to 8,000ft for the return run over the afore mentioned obstructions to our flight path.
This target was noted in the log book as a “strong point” which we were told it was at the time, no one knew what it was so it was decided to destroy it. A ground investigation later on found the gun, much to every one’s surprise at it’s size and pointing straight at London, various TV programmes over the years have shown it and it’s concrete barrel rising from deep underground. Checking distances with my M.S World Atlas I found much to my surprise that Boulogne is the closest point in France to London, closer that Calais by about 10KM, so an obvious place to put a gun of this range and size.
September 19th we took our old ‘plane to the HCU at Dishforth she had done 56 trips and had been hard used many patches and repairs has been done so with all her proud bombing trips still painted on her nose she went to train more aircrew for the struggle still to come.
September 25th off again to France in daylight to bomb a German strong point at Calais another target gone, our new E easy going good!!
September 26th to France in daylight again to Calais bombed Gun positions and the docks in the harbour, noted as another good hit.
September 27th daylight to Germany Bottrop in the Ruhr, have note that we bombed a factory on visual which means some thing had gone u/s. My pilot, Jim Tease recently gave me some more information on this mission. “I had a friend now deceased who was a navigator on 428 Ghost Squadron. He wrote a book about Ghost Squadron & I compared his report of trips we were both on, and found we had different visions of what happened. On our 31 trip to Bottrop on Sept 27 I indicate there was 10/10 cloud for the whole trip, the Master of Ceremonies (Master Bomber) of the Path Finders lost his way and we bombed where (our navigator) said the target area was
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located. Ron’s book indicates the refinery was hit & smoke rose to 17000ft. So much for records!!”
My Log Book for that raid states “10/10 cloud Bombed Factory Visual M/C U/S” guess that all means we found a gap in the clouds and bombed the target but had solid cloud both there and back M/C U/S Master of Ceremonies out of order, unserviceable.
On one of these daylight raids we saw a V2 launched on one raid, didn’t know what it was just a streak in the sky. Looking out of the windscreen I saw a streak of smoke come through a layer of cloud and shoot up into the sky and disappear into the next lot of cloud, l know the skipper also saw it but who else I am not sure, lasted milli seconds. It was logged by the navigator and an estimation of where it had come from made by us. When and where seen etc was important, once a site was located it could be knocked out by bombing.
September 30th daylight again in Germany Sterkrade in the Ruhr saw one of our Sqdn go down and three of the seven get out on ‘chutes, we landed at a FIDO ‘drome at Cranesby, no brake pressure went off the end of a very long runway into a field of potatoes that had just been ridged up and we went across the ridges, a bit like roller skating on corrugated iron.
On the 4th of October we went to Bergen in Norway flying across the North Sea in daylight to bomb U/Boat pens and a large ammunition ship in the harbour. We flew across the sea both ways at 1000ft to be under German Radar, and climbed rapidly near the target to 12000ft, Mosquitos and Mustangs gave us fighter cover.
I still have an image in my mind of a semi-circular bay with a large ship moored more or less in the middle. As I remember it the country around Bergen is low lying, nothing at our height to give us cause for panic, but if the ship had blown up and we were down low could have cause major damage to one or more of our Halifaxs [sic].
The large ammunition ship blew up. The ship was still all in one piece when I last saw it and if our bombs had done the damage guess we would have been told. I think it was our rear gunner who told us via the intercom that it had blown up, and that is why we were there.
Our attack made the Bergan people even more anti British than they already were, Gillian visited there some years ago as the intended bride to the son of one of Bergen’s top families, the mother was a local member of parliament, they treated her most awfully which did not help when she casually mentioned that her Dad had bombed the place during the war,
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needless to say that romance soon died!!! The Norwegians still didn’t like us Brits, near enough to Germans and lots supported Hitler during the war, bit like the Swiss only interested in making money, the shits.
Of course, most ordinary Norwegian people hadn’t any view pro or anti regarding Germany and Britain, just wanted to get on with their lives as best they could. Those that were anti us had lots riding on our defeat, and were involved in either working for the Germans or making lots of money out of them by trading with them, those that helped us risked torture and death, and were really in more peril than we were, they were the real heroes. After the war and for many years, I never met anyone who speaking with what sounded like a German accent, was other than Swiss, even if they said their home town was in Germany!!!. I still find the Swiss attitude to money and it’s retention disgusting, particularly in the light of revelations of their trading with the Nazis in Gold and goods taken from innocent people. Guess ordinary people all over this world just want to eat and enjoy what little life they have, but greed gets in the way and those few who can claw their way up the ‘food’ chain and get much more than their fair share are the ones who I have no time for, being poor perhaps colours my out look!!!
So we come to the 6th of October and a night operation over Germany to Dortmund in the Ruhr Valley, this was a 500 bomber raid to the centre of the city, we again were hit by flack bits flying about all over the place and very red hot some hit the bomb door hydraulics which fell open and stay open and I’m sure that it was on this operation that a lump hit Nick Nicklen on his side making a very nasty bruise, fortunately it also hit the torch on his MAYWEST [sic] life jacket so didn’t kill him, he was in much pain but got us back to England ok, Nick was awarded the D.F.C. later and I am sure it was for this brave effort. Because of our damage we again had to land apart from our base and this time landed at Woodbridge and after some quick repairs we flew back to base the next day, where I was told that I had finished my tour of operations, had been granted a commission, given dockets and a leave pass to get my officers uniform and told to report back in seven days. A friend and I travelled to just about every city and large town in Yorkshire before we managed to get kitted up in Harrogate.
Before departing on leave and to await our next posting we had to hand in certain flying and escape items. There were mainly items of some value French and German money hidden in our clothes together with fine silk maps of France and Germany. Our flying boots which had a hidden knife in the sheep skin lining so that the long leg warmers could be cut off leaving what looked like ordinary shoes also were handed in, other items like compasses hidden under badges or in pencils, hacksaw blades concealed in the linings of clothes, a bag of oiled silk that could be used to hold water and a few other odds and ends we kept, these like so many things at that time
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had no value to us and no doubt went into the bin without much thought! Jim Tease and the rest of the crew still had a few operations to go but I was not allowed to finish with them told not to be so greedy, others wanted a go and as far as I was concerned they were welcome. So home on leave to await what the RAF had in store for me again. Cycling along the main road in Cliftonville what should I see but a bunch of very good looking WAAF’s (Woman’s Auxiliary Air Force, who did every job except fighting (which they sometimes had to do for their honour) from clerks to Radar operators, cooks to delivering aircraft from the factories, and with them a girl friend if but briefly from my school days, Phyllis Dike!! I made contact and started to see her and eventually proposed marriage to her, she wasn’t very keen but agreed in the end.
I was recalled to service and was posted to Heavy Conversion Unit 1332, Nutts Corner in Norther Ireland where I crewed up with F/lt Poore,a navigator and a wireless operator all of us being officers and had completed at least one tour on bombers, we were being trained to fly Avro Yorks on the main trunk routes from U.K to India and Ceylon now India, Pakistan and Shri Lanka [sic]. We started the flying part of the course on the 8th April 1945 and completed it on 17th of the same month. My flight log of my time in 1332 H.C.U. is presented later.
The Avro York interior lay out was much as the Lancaster. The pilot, F/E, Nav, Wop were together in a small group, the F/E acting as second pilot even if untrained. When spare pilots became available they took over the task of second pilot the f/e found himself a place amongst the mail bags to sleep and do his job as he could.
When a number of crews joined Transport Command after our course at Nutts Corner, we arrived at 242 Squadron in Stoney Cross. My log book details my flights with 242 Squadron.
Within a day or so we were all loaded onto an Avro York, flown I know not where and without any “by your leave” injected with multiple injections in both arms and I seem to remember elsewhere, we were told this was for protection against all the terrible deceases we could encounter in foreign lands, yellow fever was mentioned as one but there was a whole list of them. I know most of us were a bit under the weather for a few days, some even very sick. What sticks in the memory was that we weren’t asked or consulted just injected!!
I had already obtain permission to get married and given leave for that period, but the Wedding was on the 28th and I had to get home and do some organising, so used the “old boys” network and thumbed lifts to England and managed to get a train to get home in time. Don Nicklen my navigator
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from 420 sqdn came down from Yorkshire to be my best man, and I can’t say I saw much of him before it was away on a short honeymoon, and then back to camp for both of us!!
– Reg Miles
The URL of this page is
http://www.geocities.com/milbios/Milesbio4.html
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Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S.of T.T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U.s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242- 246 – 511 Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 5
242- 246 – 511 Squadrons, Transport Command, Lyneham, RAF
I started flying at 242 Sqdn on the 16th May again all training in passenger flying technique, rather different from press on bombing! We did a few cross countries and many three engined landing and the use of radio range flying. One exercise in the log book was Over Shoots and Landings. Overshoots and landings are practice in taking off again before you actually get the wheels on the ground, some clever dickies even run the wheels along the runway and open the throttles and take off again, alright for intrepid birdmen like fighter pilots but not recommended for serious passenger flying types. There are the odd occasions when the runway suddenly does not become clear for landing, animals, cars, fire engines, even other aircraft, so practice for these times (which may never happen) is necessary, these days a no risk practice can be made in the Flight Simulator, we had to do it the hard way with an instructor beside us and no knowledge of what we would be asked to do, he could shut down one engine and then another, drop the undercarriage, put on full flap, what ever his distorted mind felt like that day!! The pilots I flew with on Transport Command had all done at least one tour on bombers, some quite a number and were used to the enemy doing much the same to the aircraft, so no panic just the correct procedure and “What would you like next” often asked, with a wry grin. So the other to “overshoot” became automatic, with me acting on my pilot’s instructions about throttle, flaps and under gear, but I was always aware of what he wanted and would be “hands on” waiting, would have been a rather poor F/E if not ready when wanted!!
My crew went on leave after this training, so I was made a temporary Flight Engineer to the Squadron Leader, who took me on a test flight of my abilities to Cairo and back, left Stoney Cross on the 4th flew to Luqa in Malta.
Malta was still on a war footing. Luqa, on Malta, a dry and stony place all the airport buildings pained white but very small and certainly not like any airport you may have seen, a concrete slab to park on for refuelling, all
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of which had to be done through massive filters, with chamois leather inserts to catch any water and of course the ever present dust and sand. All the ground crew well tanned and going about their jobs with efficiency, being bombed continually taught them not to delay getting the fighters airborne, we were lucky that the fighters had gone before we started to use Luqa, the enemy ones!!
Malta is an island with a long history of invaders, us being the last, independence was granted some time after the war and I am sure the locals were glad to see all the foreign military go, wonderful harbour, well used by the Royal Navy during WW2, a street (very narrow and steep) in Valletta was lined with open fronted drinking bars, just really the front room of a house with easy entry for the soldiers and sailors to get drunk, think from memory it was called by the Navy “The Gut”, but could be thinking of somewhere else, for us, just a place to “slip” crews, water always very scarce, milk, butter and cheese from goats, think I have mentioned that before, as I have about collecting all the papers and books from the mess before leaving UK to leave both with the RAF and also some Navy types who crewed a fast MTB (motor torpedo boat) made a change for both crews to chat with some one other than their working mates.
The runway ended at a quarry, no sight for the faint hearted, as it was well stocked with aircraft that had not made it, guess the passengers just thought it was some where the RAF stored unwanted ‘planes. My first trip there was with a senior pilot to check me out so a quick run to Cairo and back, all 7,800 Km of it! My years in South Africa had made me used to hot weather shorts and open neck shirts so it was easy for me to climatise to the changed weather conditions. I now live in Mackay, Queensland and there is thriving community of Maltese people, many sugar cane farmers or the descendants of cane farmers, and NO they are not called Maltesers!!
On the 5th Malta to Cairo. Cairo, a large bustling over crowded city, full to bursting point with every shape, colour and size of humanity, and I am talking about 1945!! We had little to do with Cairo itself, as we either landed at Cairo West or at Almaza in Heliopolis, a suburb of Cairo, where we were put up in the largest hotel I have ever seen, not that I am into hotels as such, but as a young very green officer the Heliopolis Palace Hotel was mind blowing, acres of everything, not outside but inside, entry large enough to hold a soccer match, dining rooms that vanished into the blue and rooms so large that if they had been properly furnished a guide would have been required to see us to the door. Each crew had a room on arrival with number of beds scattered about and a couple of tables and chairs etc, guess the hotel had not been completed prior to WW2 and had been taken over by the British Forces, lots of “red tab” types swanning about, had a very hard war from the looks of things!! Food was good and served properly the same
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as our mess in UK, so no complaints there. About flying times etc you must remember that as we flew East the time got later and daylight ended sooner, ie Cairo – UK 2 hour difference, same as New Zealand – Australia.
We all took a trip to Giza and along the road to the Sphinx and the Pyramids, don’t know who built that lot but bet he over ran the budget, The one thing that still sticks in my mind is the overpowering smell of diesel oil on that road, not so much burnt oil but the same smell you get on a production oil field, the brown desert stretched to the horizon on either side of the road which was very black and shiny, perhaps that’s where the smell came from not bitumen but oiled sand!!! Now I’ll never know!!! Natural History Museum in Cairo a must if you visit, remember it as a highlight of my various times there and after these many years must be a wonder to visit now, didn’t go to the medical section if just before or after lunch, in fact might be a good idea to give that bit a miss!!
I wanted to buy Phyllis something special and found a market that specialised in perfumes. Channel number 5 or was it 7? was all the go, entered this so dark and gloomy looking shop, about the size of your average toilet, greeted with lots of bowing, and what sounded like praises for my everything, down some steep stairs to end up in yet another room the same size where there was a small table and two or three chairs, ‘would the effendi like some coffee’? (no idea how you spell effendi)’ well really wanted to buy some perfume’ lot more praised heaped on me but coffee came regardless, the cups must have been part of a doll house at some time and the coffee bitter and black, Now I had to sniff every smell known to man, ‘is this for your lovely wife’? what colour are her eyes etc and so on ‘does my lord have a mistress’?
By this time I was all sniffed out, couldn’t tell one heap of horse crap from another of cows, throat dry as dust from the coffee, and still I was given the full treatment until I made a purchase and bolted, can’t remember what scent I did buy but it was a big bottle!!!!
On the 6th Cairo to Malta, and on the 7th, Malta to Base. My flight log records of my time in 242 Squadron are listed later.
Two quick training flights with my real crew and then I was lent to F/o Good to go as F/E on a Short Stirling (never seen one close up before) that was to deliver supplies all over the world, why me I’ll never know, a very quick half hour lesson on where everything was, happily the engines were Hercules with which I had done all my operations, perhaps that’s why I was picked, only one on the squadron with that engine experience.
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The Short Stirling was just a bomber, not converted to anything, the fuselage was used to carry freight and we carted an exhibition of bombs etc all over the place, we also picked up and dropped off odds and sods as required, much like a “tramp steamer” at everyone beck and call!! The Stirling was the first of the four engined bombers for the RAF and suffered because of that, a bad spec. by the chairbound in the Ministry ended up with a well made but poor WW 2 bomber, they did get used for bombing, others as tugs and for training purposes, remember one of Nutts Corner left the end of the runway and landed in the mud, tipped up on it’s nose, the Station doctor rushed to the crews aid (they had all left some time ago) climbed up on the wing slipped and fell off and broke his ankle, mustn’t laugh!!!
The Stirling was slow had no great ceiling, noisy, draughty and I was a long way from home, my crew and a lovely Avro York, what else do you need to think a ‘plane was terrible?
So off we went in a lumbering noisy old Sterling, 15th June England to Castel Benito in North Africa 7 hours 20 of misery, Castel Benito was obviously a place named for the Italian Dictator, My only recollection of this place is sand more sand and then some more sand, the tents we slept in were filled with sand and the food was full of sand and even the ever present flies were full of sand, how the troops managed to service ‘planes and keep them flying is a wonder. I don’t remember if there was a concrete runway but if there was bet it was covered in sand, it blew everywhere, filled every orifice, eyes got sore even just during one night there, no thank you don’t want to remember that place!!
16th June Castel Benito to Lydda the airport for Tel Aviv in (Palestine) Israel 6 hours 45. Lydda, was Palestine. now Israel, was the main airport of Tel Aviv, guess the name has been changed so people like me have no idea where it is now, but was decent airport so probably just extended and has a new name. While at Lydda took the opportunity to visit Jerusalem, The Wailing Wall, Church of the Holy Sacrement [sic], built on the site of the cross and also Bethlehem. I don’t even recognise these places when shown on TV now, Wailing Wall about the same but more open when I was there, Bethlehem completely unspoilt, a crude stable as it always had been, no frills or religious artifice, The Church of the Holy Sacrament surrounded by squalor, beggars, the maimed, and only reached by a walk through narrow alleys, now seeing them on TV, must have had a bit of a clear out, but the Church full of the usual con men selling bees wax candles to see the sights, all they did is coat the hand with evil smelling grease no bee had ever seen, and the opulence inside made a mockery of “love thy neighbour” when related to the poverty outside. HOPE THIS DOES NOT UPSET YOU but just report as I saw many years ago!!! Guess I was full of brotherly love after a tour on bombers!!!
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18th June a night flight to Shaibah in Iraq 3 hours 45. Shaibah, now there is a place to bring back memories not for me but for the thousands of RAF blokes who served there, when I was an RAF Apprentice I heard more dirty poems about Shaibah and its population than anywhere else, some went on for pages and although not a collector of such memorabilia, remember one that had as it’s main item a wheel of very large proportions that continued to revolve against the odds. Another place of sand, from the air very little could be seen as most accommodation was built under ground or should I say the roof of concrete was just about ground level, ventilation was by open slots at ground level, bit like sleeping in a WW2 air raid shelter, situated in Iraq at Lat 30-2349N Long 47-3628 E at 2224ft, has taken me many years to find out just where it was/is, managed it by locating a web site all about the Gulf War, nothing more to say about another sand castle.
19th June Shaibah to Karachi in what is now Pakinstan [sic] 6 hours 15. After taking off from Shaibah we flew directly to the waters of the Gulf and flew all the way to Karachi as near as possible in the centre of the Gulf, many bad friend either side so instructions were to avoid problems, even did a bit of a “dog leg” at the Straits of Hormuz to stay away from any one’s territory. Was quite a peaceful looking scene in those days, lots of small ships ploughing their way along and across, probably smugglers and all manner of evil goings on if we did but know it!!
And so to Karachi itself, part of India then, but now Pakistan, thriving city of many thousands or millions, place that I bought many carpets to bring back to England to help cheer up a rather dark old house Phyll and I were renting.
There were very many carpet makers in the various streets working on looms made from everything imaginable, some used by young children making wonderful patterns with the dyed wool, both hands and feet being used at a rapid pace to insert the wool and move the shuttle. I would shop about for one we wanted to do a room, passage or a hallway, and athough [sic] most colours were somewhat bright and did clash with others we had, we were glad to be able to cover the floors with some thing soft and warm. Many of the carpets had long wool which made them bulky to carry especially some long ones for the stairs, but the carpet makes were only too pleased to wrap them in sacking for me. Most times the Customs at Lyneham let me through without any payment but on occasion I would be charged some small amount to keep them happy!! The chewing of beetle nut and the continual spitting out of it’s bright red juice made the pavement look as if a gang battle had taken place, many were the street side workshops, silver coins hammered thin, cut into strips and soldered into intricate shapes to make the lovely fret work for jewelry [sic], and delightful decorative items. In fact all streets in every Indian city of town I visited had it’s crafts men,
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woman and children, some carved ivory to make the famous balls within balls, time seemed to have no meaning to the carvers who I was told spent years on a single item, how they lived was a mystery. Apart from the clever ones there was also the cunning ones, just a few of the things they made were, cigarettes in a perfect copy of all English packets and tins which when lit popped and crackled as the dead bugs burst, Phyll was pregnant with our first son and suffered as so many woman do with terrible morning sickness, was told that Philips Milk of Magnesia would help, but none obtainable in England that would could find, bought the largest bottle I could find in India at the Officer’s Mess, Dark blue bottle and all the correct labels etc, Phyll took one dose and heaved it straight up, might have been the right bottle but the contents were foul and unknown, apparently it was quite a common practise to bore a hole in the bottom of bottles of all descriptions, whisky, gin, brandy etc the favourites, pour the contents out and fill with anything that looked right and seal the hole in the bottom, I was told that at time pattent [sic] laws in India were unknown. A shoe maker told me he could copy any size, style, colour, so with a pattern of Phyll’s shoe size ordered a pair of suede shoes as a surprise, was a surprise to us both, Minnie Mouse would have been proud to have worn them, not Phyll, yet without soap they could remove grease and stains from the dirtist [sic] of shorts and shirts, return them the next day looking like new, a large country with a great deal of talent in the common man!!!
20th June Karachi to Dum-Dum Calcutta in India 7 hours 05. I have been asked what this was like, flying out of a war zone and to these peaceful areas. But it was not like that at all. Most places we went were on a war footing. Also I don’t think that the local population welcomes us, our money yes, but us no thank you. India was in the throes of becoming independent after many years under the yoke of Britain, Pakistan and Ceylon were also stirring as was Egypt. We landed in Dum Dum (Calcuta) one time to be told that we could not go into town as some workers had had an argument with their foreman and had tossed him into the furnace and shut the door. Another time we received an invite to visit a local Big wig’s Palace, nearby got there when a crowd on a rampage filled the streets and our taxi did a U turn and took us back to camp, war in England was never like that!! Instead of landing back at home, each time we landed in enemy territory, well on most days!!
22nd June Dum Dum to Palam in India 4 hours 25. The old city of Delhi, like some so many cities in India, narrow streets, too many people and cows, but New Delhi a much cleaner place guess the name tells it all, many administrative departments built I would guess to house the government in a cleaner environment, may be just as crowded now as the old one was years ago, we used both names New Delhi and Palam as our stop off point for this place, not a major junction at that time and not on our normal route. Calcutta
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in the East of India was a large city, the RAF base of Dum Dum well known throughout the service, the dum dum bullet came from there, and from the tales I was told much more that was strange and a mystery to western eyes, saw the Indian rope trick once, yes the boy did vanish but always thought there was something a bit iffy about it, if you don’t believe it can’t happen I suppose. Again the streets red with beetle juice and lined with small workshops in some areas, wonderful brass work made by hand, beaten out of sheets of brass, bought a beautiful rose bowl there on one trip, stolen long after by a staff member of the roadhouse we had, really heavy brass with roses carved around the circumference, these were filled with glass and fired so the glass melted into the cuts and then ground until smooth, coated with silver and fitted with a silver mesh to hold the stems, bought a few different types but all long gone now, probably found a new home years ago with the craved wooden tray, crystal glasses, and they even stole the fez I brought back from Egypt!!!
23rd June Palam to Ratamalana in Ceylon, now Shri Lanka [sic], 8 hours. Ceylon, Sri Lanka, was a nice place, called at a number of ‘dromes there, Ratmalana, Negombo, a couple of them, our sleeping quarters were straw huts in amongst the coconut plantations, spoilt for me on one trip when I left my case on the bed and went for a shower, found when I returned that it had been stolen so no change of clothes until I could buy some more, found out when I asked the station police that it was quite normal for things to vanish, very light fingered some of them.
Great surf beaches there which we all found very welcome to cool off in the water, no hope of swimming as one minute the sand is dry and the next 10 feet of water, terrific undertow we were very luck [sic] we did not get swept out to sea, Africa the next stop!!
A rather nice hotel built on a promontory or maybe it was a linked island anyhow went there one night and had a game of snooker with the attendant, played quite well but was given a lesson on how to play the game, found out later that the attendant had been the “marker” for Horace Lyndrum, one time world Champion.
24th June Ratamalana to Karachi 8 hours, 25th June Karachi to Shaibah 6 hours 40, 25th June (YES THE SAME DAY). One of the things I did notice about India as we flew the length of it to Ceylon (Sri Lanka) from Karachi. That it was covered in trees and where the vast population lived I often wondered, certainly the street of towns and cities were full , covered in the red strains of beetle juice and cows.
Shaibah to Lydda a night flight of 4 hours 20. 26th June we had trouble with the electric’s of the flaps and undercarriage so missed a day!! 27th June
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Lydda to Castel Benito 6 hours 40. 28th June Castel Benito to Holmsley South 8 hours , and finally on the same day Holmsley South to base at Stoney Cross 15 minutes, all in an aircraft that I had had about ten minutes of this is this and that is that!!
We were now transferred as a crew to Holmsely [sic] South, with 246 Squadron, and I started flying again with a F/O Lunn on the 10th July doing 3 engined landings, another gap which could have been ground instruction or being a “dogs body” to my F/E Leader, or even a spot of leave and started flying with F/Lt Poore again on Yorks on the 22nd and again on the 28th doing various training flight, then it was off again on the 29th of July from Holmsley South to Malta, Cairo West, Shaibah, Mauripur (India) Dum Dum and so on back to UK on the 11th of August having flown on 29th and 30th July 1st 2nd 3rd 7th 8th 9th and twice on the 11th August. The reason was that there were so few trained crews and very few York aircraft, so we all had to do a great deal in fact far too much. The logbook of my time with 246 Squadron is presented later.
A York oversea flight was very different from Bomber operations, on bombers our cargo had no opinions of physical wants, just sad and waited to be jettisoned.
We carried mail as well, but our passengers were important, not in rank but in the interest of the service they were. So a completely different style of flying had to be undertaken, “press on regardless” the bomber style was no good for people. Safe and on time was the motto, no risks with bad weather, fly round it, we could not go over because there was no oxygen installed on the ‘plane.
From my point of view it was all very strange to start with, clothes for a couple of weeks was required but tropical ones were worn most of the time, so we got into a routine of flying out from UK in our normal uniforms, changed at Malta and left our “blues” there to be cleaned etc and changed back into them on our way home, leaving our tropical shorts shirts etc to washed, ironed and ready for us next time out. Food was another problem, Malta for example was still on very tight rations and my first taste of goat milk, butter and cheese still a rank memory!! The warning to be very careful what we ate, the sudden change in temperature and humidity took their toll of us all and from memory we are nothing at all out of our RAF Messes and very frugal in them. We were not able to drink much hard booze, mainly soft drinks and the occasional beer, the fruit was very welcome however and provided it was either skinned or peeled we could eat them, most of us took back to England some fruit each trip for our families, often when we landed back in UK, calls were out for certain fruit mainly bananas for sick children
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in London hospitals, something in banana which helped cure some illnesses, needless to say no one minded giving up whatever we had.
When you and I fly these days we bound the ‘plane and are quite confident we will arrive where we should, flying on operations we went and came back (hopefully) now we went and went and went and then turned round and came back but it was us doing the wenting and to places that we had never been before and had to land discharge our passengers, sort out the plane, refuel etc, find a bed and food and be ready for the next one in the following day, the first few time were difficult, strange places and people and equipment, and even a brand new crew, all who had done at least one tour but some had done a number, our navigator I remember wore “brothel creeper” suede boots in the topics, was to my eyes ancient and seemed to dissapear [sic] between flights into his room, never really got to know him!!!
I had to get out to the aircraft at least an hour before take off to check out things and run up the engines, you will note many 02, 03 04, 2359, times given as take off time so you can see I for one lost of lot of sleep, the rest of the crew were not in bed but sorting out all the charts, weather, flight plans etc, and we often flew twice in a day if needed so apart from the constant changes in climate as we flew hither and thither we were kept busy.
After take off and once we had reached about 8,000ft we could settle down to some hours of straight and level flight, passengers had to be checked, even in those days there were the terrified ones who could not look out of the window,
After a number of trips the whole thing became a boring job with very little excitement, great discomfort because of the climate, lack of food and the desire to get home to my growing family, I really loved the RAF but loved my wife more.
Among the sites seen during this flying over North Africa, ones that are stuck in the memory are the rusting tanks and other vehicles that littered the North African Desert as we flew in and out if Cairo, lots of miles of nothing then a heap of rust etc, all seen as we flew over at 8,000ft.
We as a crew were transferred yet again to the top Transport Command Squadron, 511 at Lyneham who still operate from there to this day. (August 1998). The logbook of my time with 511 Squadron is presented later.
The only highlight during October was the flight the skipper and I did on our own in Lancaster Bomber P 780 (it was used as the squadron spare parts transport) was to fly by my map reading to Prestwick near Liverpool to pick up a parcel and return, clocked up 3 hours 30 in a Lancaster. The York was a
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nice ‘plane to fly couldn’t go above 8000ft because we had no oxygen for the passengers and it was not pressurised, really a Lancaster with a different body to take freight or passengers, we even had a very good galley on board but until we were given an ex airgunner to act as steward was little used, don’t know what training our chap was given but on the first flight was told on the ground what and when we as the crew would like for our meal. He waited until we were well on our way before puncturing the tins and most of the contents ended in his face or on the ceiling, didn’t seem to know about changes of air pressure, but he soon learned!!
There is one trip to Langar mentioned in my log book where we picked up a York for a VIP Flight. We were in York MW100, which had been the first operational York delivered to the RAF. I have read that Langar was an AVRO refurbishment factory, where repairs etc were carried out, so it looks as though MW 100 was “tarted” up there for 24 Squadron VIP flight.
One of the more pleasant jobs we have, even if a bit sad really, was to fly back to England those British troops that had survived the death camps of the Japanese in Burma and else where. We used Freighter Yorks for this with mattresses spread on the floor and female nurses in attendance, the looks of thanks we all got from these sad men was soul touching, all crews involved would have happily got our old bombers out and bombed the bastards to kingdom come, I for one will never forgive them for their cruelty. Returning from one of the later trips we were met by the Squadron C.O. and told to move all our gear into the Waaf’s quarters (they had been moved out) get a decent room and then report to the main gate where transport had been laid on, the useless mob of non flying officers had crawled out from under the stones they had been hiding under, while we all risked life and limb, and were now insisting that we as crews were not allowed in the mess in flying kit, even though we had to breakfast at between 4-5am and then go straight out to fly, when we returned late night no food would be available after 6pm. Our C.O. wouldn’t stand for that, he had done at least 90 ops some with the Dam Busters, so we moved all the Squadron items from the mess to our new accommodation, which meant all the silver, billard [sic] tables most of the decent armchairs (we could never sit in one because these idle sods were always in them), all the liquor from the bar plus all the glasses and bits and bobs. We had all been paying mess bills but very rarely had been in England, so an even bigger shock was in store for them when they found their mess bills had sky rocketed.
The day after day of flying from cold damp England to steaming hot and humid India was very wearying and when at the end of February 1946 I was offered the chance to leave the RAF I took it, our son Tony had been born in April shortly before I left, I could have stayed on in The RAF, but long hours of flying and a new wife and baby were not the way to go if life was
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going to be at all normal, what I should do for a job I didn’t know, but time at home was what I really wanted, it had been a long hard war and I wanted a rest.!! I have been thinking about this part of my time with The Royal Air Force and it seems as if I should explain where possible the duties of the various aircrew members. Starting with the bomber crews, the pilot is the boss whatever his rank, some crews were formed with quite senior ranking officers as non pilot members, this was often caused by the need for senior officers to really find out what happened on operations, often this was of a temporary nature, but it was known for a senior officer to complete a tour with a N.C.O pilot. The pilot made all the decisions in the air and usually on the ground as well, he had to have the respect of his crew and a happy crew always had a father figure for their pilot even though he might not be the oldest member of the crew, fighter pilots could and possibly should be of a less serious nature, most times they only had to look after themselves.
The pilot must have some understanding of all the jobs that the crew carried out, not to any great detail but sufficient to understand when things went wrong, and in an emergency could make the correct decisions if that crew member was unable to do so, his training would take much longer and would start as a pupil pilot on small aircraft, when he got his wings and started his training on twin engine ‘planes he would be joined by his navigator and in some cases by the wireless operator, these two crew members would have been carrying out their training else where, and once passed as proficient would have been posted to the conversion unit to await joining a crew, it is possible at this stage that these three crew members could after completing their conversion course, be posted to a squadron flying twin engine aircraft, DC3’s. or twin engine light bombers or fighters such as Mosquito’s, Beaufighter’s, Blenheim’s there were many different RAF and USAF twin engined aircraft in service all over the world that this crew could have ended up flying, navigation and wireless equipment was all basically the same in the RAF and no doubt the same applied in the USAF. Assuming that this crew now carries on to four engine conversion, all of the previous training could have been carried out in Canada or South Africa some I understand also completed twin engine training in the USA. Crews formed of Canadian, South African and Australian nationals naturally liked to be all from the same country, I am not sure what happened in other countries but I joined a Canadian crew when they arrived in England because they had no Flight Engineers, I do know that other countries also had the same problem but just who and how much of a problem it was I do not know. So now we have the crew at a 4 engine conversion course some where in England, here the pilot must learn the tricks of flying and landing a large and most likely difficult bomber, having done some initial training with instructors he will now get his crew together and they will complete their training together, While he has been receiving instruction and doing take off’s and landings with an all instructor crew,
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usually only a pilot and F/E, if going on a cross country he would have both a navigator and wireless operator also from the instruction staff (all would be air crew who had completed at least one tour and told me that it was more scary instructing than doing ops!) the rest of the crew have been likewise receiving instruction. Navigators, wireless operators and flight engineers would be all flying both day and night being taught and checked for competence in their various jobs, and subject to being passed as suitable would then continue their training as a crew, any member that didn’t do their job properly was soon found out and a replacement soon found, our navigator had been passed as ok but on a cross country during our training got us hoplessly [sic] lost in the Welsh mountains and the pilot and I, map and beacon read our way home, needless to say he went! The pilot now has his crew and after arriving at a bomber squadron he and his crew are checked out again by the various section leaders, he will now go on two “second dickie” bombing trips to see just what it is all about, standing next to the pilot he will watch what happens all the way out and back, and have that little extra bit of knowledge that his crew hasn’t got.
So to complete this long story about the pilot he stands at the front of his crew and leads and guides them in the tasks ahead. He never shows fear nor does his voice ever tremble when in difficult situations, he may be trembling inside but no one would ever guess, a good bomber pilot was a hero unsung, I was lucky I flew with two on operations. The navigator must have an ability with numbers and calculations often carried out under very difficult conditions, many were remustered from pilot training having failed to reach the flying standard required, they made very good navigators because they understood the problems a pilot could have, and could be very quickly given what additional training was required for a navigator. His job simply described would be to get you there and back again, on time and on target, never as simple as that because the bombing routes were always being changed to dodge known hot spots of “flack” and lead the enemy into thinking you were going to one town and then suddenly turn and bomb some where else. His view of the target or for that matter anywhere we went was limited by his position below the pilot facing a blank wall, his instruments consisted of the usual pencils rulers etc. but also fitted were a repeater compass from the gyro-compass until in the tail, a Gee unit which had a screen and fixed radio stations in England broadcast signals that were projected as curved lines which could give him a fixed position, the gee signal did not reach far into the continent so was of limited use but did help the beginner out and home, H2S was also fitted in a belly blister underneath this was a very primitive form of radar and gave a misty picture of the earth below helpfull [sic] if bombing blind and could aid in locating a town and the trusty old sextant, much improved from the sailor’s version with a two minute clockwork motor that averaged out the readings over that period so was a bit more accurate, wouldn’t do on a yacht would rust up solid in no
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time, piles of maps, charts for everything. Not only did he have to keep up a proper running diary of events, such as aircraft seen to crash or explode any unusal [sic] sightings, we saw some of the early German rocket tests on one operation, we didn’t know what it was and said so and we weren’t told either, changes to targets would be passed to him by the w/op, wind drift had to be regularly checked and whether we had a tail or head wind could effect the time we got to the target, and when we got back home he had to hand in his charts for them to be checked just in case we hadn’t been where we were supposed to have been, a very busy member of the crew, perhaps managed to look out the nose on odd occasions but always working and figureing [sic] out the next course change. The wireless operator was probable a very frustrated man, he had all this high powered gear and could only use it to receive, except in an emergency which none of us wanted anyhow. Signals were being passed from group headquarters to the squadron in code and where they effected us were passed to those concerned, almost always to the navigator, these could be very sudden and high changes of wind direction as monitored by aircraft ahead of us, changes of routes to avoid a new “flack” post, recalls due to bad conditions over the target or fog closing in on our own ‘dromes.
Which meant we might not be able to land properly anywhere in England, 500 to 1000 bombers spread out all over England many crashed with crews killed was not a happy thought! So the w/op spent most of his time listening in, when we started using Master Bombers, (they flew round and round the target during the raid giving instructions to various crews where to bomb and telling those off who ignored him) the w/op got some extra work changing channels as briefed so that the German radio could not block transmissions. Our transmitted signals out were always brief until over friendly land and even then too much chatter from one ‘plane could cause trouble for those in real peril, ‘planes with injured on board or ‘planes so badly damaged that the sooner they could land the better got priority and all crews listened to see if one of their mates was in trouble often a few words of comfort from a friend helped no end, once we started doing daylight operations and could see many miles we could also warn others of enemy action such as flack and fighters, and when we given the job as “dive bombers” on a couple of raids warn other of bomb bursts and local guns that could be a danger. The Bomb Aimer’s (or as the USAF called him The Bombardier) job was to drop the bombs we had carted about the sky and drop them where they would do the most damage, his bomb sight of RAF planes was quite good, needed to be set accurately with wind speed and direction, had a set of switches that could be set so that various bomb bays on the ‘plane emptied first once all the settings were put in which also included things like height and temperature, could be others but it is a long time ago, then he directed the pilot to change course a degree or two either way until his sight was on the target and then he pressed the button and a
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sudden jolt told us we were a great deal lighter and could set course for home. The Master Bomber made a difference because he would tell us which coloured markers to bomb on and give us lots of warning as we came in towards the target. Pathfinder Force had arrived at the target with the Master Bomber before we got there, he told them where to drop their markers and which colour to use, they didn’t land on the ground but floated on parachutes so the Germans couldn’t put them out but they did light “spoof” ones which confused us until the Master Bomber started and then most bombs fell on the target. Some RAF and USAF bombers has a light machine gun in the front nose which the bomb aimer could use, don’t think is was much use, we never hand one. the only other job that the bomb aimer could do was help the navigator with map reading in daylight and he always called out when we crossed the coast both in and out of Europe and England, at night this showed up as a slightly different colour of grey. The USAF made a big fuss about how their Norden bomb sight was so good, reports I have read since the war seem to discount it’s accuracy, like most things, a good operator is good whatever rubbish he is given to use!!
Lets face it the Dam Buster’s used a sight made from a few sticks of wood and we know what they did. We now come to the Air Gunners we had two one as “tail end Charlie” in the rear turret, and another as the mid upper gunner, the rear gunner was considered the top man and he really had the worst position both for comfort and danger, both turrets were fitted with four Browning .303” aircooled machine guns, the turrets were power operated, and the rear gunner usually saw the fighters first particularly at night as they climbed up to get into position the Browning was no match for the fighter cannons so they could keep out of range and bang away until both gun positions were destroyed, then we were sitting ducks. We had two good gunners and just a couple of rounds fired at a distant fighter was enough for him to go else where and find a crew half asleep, we saw this a few times when on daylight raids and cursed them for not attending to their job of survival for the whole crew, some squadrons has much larger losses than others, we reckoned it was not luck but bad training and stupid people who once their bombs had gone thought they were home and dry. Another problem the gunners had and this also effected the bomb aimer was cold they all had electrically heated suits but it could get very cold at night and it made it just that much harder for the gunners to stay awake. On one trip they took our H2S blister out and fitted a mid-under turret, not like the USAF ball turret but more like a small bath tub with a gun mounting, didn’t look very comfortable and gave us a gunner we had never met. What a dissaster [sic] he never stopped seeing fighters from the time we left the ground until we got back, poor chap was probably “flack Happy” That bit of useless gear came out and never went back what they did with the poor gunner I don’t know. but he should not have been given a mid-under job a midupper would have kept him in contact with the rest of the crew and perhaps settled
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him down, who know what terrible tales he had to tell, but we didn’t want him!! The Flight Engineer usually came from the ground staff, had worked on engines, prefferably [sic] those fitted in aircraft, many were recruited like I was having been trained by The RAF at Halton Number 1 School of Technical Training, after passing out I had served two or three years on the flight line servicing a large number of different areo-engines so my F/E training could be specific to the engines fitted in the aircraft I should fly in, the course at St Athan in Wales was quite short, and like all the ex-brats found it no problem, my duties were to control the engines all the required speed the pilot decided and adjust boose and RPM so that they were all syncronised [sic] and did not “hunt”, raising and lowering undercarriage, flaps and bomb doors also were my job, on take off I had to help the pilot hold the throttles open and assist in correcting any swing which could happen with a cross wind and a full bomb load. Every other crew member was strapped in but the F/E had to stand beside the pilot to carry out his job, once off the ground U/G up and flaps retracted, climbing boose and revs set, temperatures checked and on radial engines gills opened or closed to keep the engines at the right temperature.
On water cooled the radiator flaps had to be adjusted for the same reason, a log had to be kept from the moment the engines were started so that a running total of fuel used to could be calculated, every change of boost, revs ,height and which gear the super charger was in affected fuel consumption. There reading were very important also which fuel tanks were in use so that all tanks could end up over the target holding the same amount of fuel, a full tank with a hole could mean no return to base. As an F/E I never really had enough time for all the jobs, the navigator called on me at times to do star shots with the sextant which I could hang on a hook in the astro-drome above my bank of engine and fuel instruments, there was always some thing that needed a tweek or a piece of wire to keep it going, and over the target apart from all my usual jobs I had to feed the “window” out of the special chute, some time there were large bundles of leaflets to send down, to let [sic] the Germans they had no chance or the invaded ones that thing would get better. Before and after a trip I had to check things, although the ground staff never missed a thing perhaps we survived because they were as fussy as we were. My log had to be handed in and any odd things explained so that they could be fixed before we went out again. When ever I had time or if fighter activity was great I would stand in the astro-dome and do my own bit of searching, one night to my amazement within almost arms-reach was a F/W 190 night fighter, I pointed this out to all of the crew and the skipper slowly dropped us a few feet until he was out of sight, the gunners wanted to have a go at him, but the skipper said you can’t be sure you will win and we are here to drop bombs!!! The different in the training for the carrying of passengers by those members of the flying crew that transfered [sic] from bombers to transport was not so very different except that the “press on
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Spirit” of bombers was now changed to safety and arrival at the destination on time. Pilots were trained to fly with the comfort of the passengers as of major concern, Navigators now had some visual land marks to help on long flights and with the help of the wireless operator many “fixes” obtained by cross bearings from two or more radio beacons. The war in Europe and with Japan was still on so many of the peace time facilities were still not available but most of southern Europe was conflict free so that flight were in themselves safe from enemy fire. The flight engineer’s duties still contained those element of engine, fuel, and general aircraft overseeing that were needed in bombers, in the early days he was the only member of the crew free to move about during the flight no cabin crew were employed, so the was the only contact that the passengers had with the flight crew, and many times his duties required him to reassure passengers who had not flown before, although he also acted as a second pilot, on long flights, ground prepared sandwiches and thermos filled with hot or cold drinks were given to the passengers by the F/E. On freighter aircraft another new duty the F/E had to perform was the checking of the centre of gravity of the load this had to be within very strict limits, because of safety considerations, each item of the load had to have it’s centre of gravity worked out and then it’s position in the aircraft designated to ensure that the centre of lift and centre of gravity were within limits.
All RAF Yorks of Transport Command were also Royal Mail carriers so that large bags of mail on both freighter and passenger ‘planes were carried, there was also a small compartment that could only be entered from the outside situated on the port side near the tail, this was for high security items and was usually filled and emptied by a person from the Consulate, who would also lock it.
Without checking with Phyll, or for that matter anyone else, I applied for release from the Royal Air Force, because I had been commissioned I was able to leave the RAF even though I had signed on as an apprentice for 18 years after the age of 18. Phyll was shocked when I turned up at the home she had started to make for us and told her what I had done, what was I going to do for a job?, how would I earn a living,? none of these things had really mattered to me, I just wanted to be with her and our new baby Tony. My Commanding Officer wanted me to stay in and said I could return at any time before my demobilisation leave ended, on the 27th of April 1946 (the day before our first wedding anniversary) I was given a demob suit, some food and clothing coupons and cleared from the RAF, my leave would finish on the 9th of July 1946 so I had a couple of months to decide what to do with my life and that of my family. Phyllis and I were married on the 28th April 1945, she was released from the WAAFs in November of 1945 and managed after a lot of form filling and chasing up the local council to get a requisitioned house, which she moved into in the early part of 1946. These
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houses had been empty for many years were of low standard compared to today’s, but ours was a solidly build three bedroom, two rooms and a kitchen down stairs but had only one cold tap in the house, gas lighting and an outside flushing toilet of the design known by young and old as the Thunderbox. I was still frying to India and Ceylon and only managed to get home for the odd night very seldom, so Phyll all on her own with no help from anyone sought out second hand furniture and managed to provide the basic things needed to make a home, Tony arrived on the 13th of April while I was on leave but I had to return to 511 Squadron as soon as all was well with Phyll and Tony, but was home again on the 27th of April for good.
– Reg Miles
The URL of this page is
http://www.geocities.com/jkjustin/Milesbio5.html
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Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S. of T. T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U.s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242 – 246 – 511 Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 6
Post RAF
My parents called round to this very old, dirty, requisitioned house and found me in my battle dress trousers and very large white flying rollnecked sweater sitting on the floor smoking a “Churchill” cigar (very large and the last of my Indian purchases) cleaning and stopping up holes in the wall of what would be our dining and living room. To say that they were horrified would be putting it mildly, where was their son of whom they were proud? The Flying Officer in the RAF who had been on bombers and regularly flew to India and other foreign parts, gave all that up to do what? I couldn’t tell them because I didn’t know, just wanted peace and my own family and no more racing about the world. Something would come along I said, my parents were not impressed they had battled for years to get a little bit out of the working class rut, still only out a little way and here was Reg on his way up and just throwing it all away to be at home cleaning up the dirt of years of neglect. After our marriage on each trip to India I bought carpets and other items that would help to furnish a home, after the floors walls and ceilings were washed the carpets gave a nice touch of luxury to the place. In the kitchen was a brick built “copper” this was filled with water, a fire lit under and when hot this water was used for cleaning the house, washing clothes, and once a week for Phyll and I to have a bath, the babies of course got at least one day. Friday evening was usually “bath night”, Phyll had managed to buy an adult size “tin bath” which spent most of it’s time handing on a nail in the back yard, with a fire going well in the back room downstairs, the bath was placed in front and buckets of cold and hot water carried in from the kitchen. Ladies first was always the rule so Phyll could have hers in comfort, when she got out I go in and removed my dirt, now came the reverse trip with the buckets of water, each one tipped outside to run into the drain by the back door, once tried to empty the bath by lifting it up to the window sill and sliding it out, not much luck with that just a lot more water to wipe up. I did eventually install a proper full size bath in the kitchen with the drain passing through the wall and hot water fed from a gas heater and cold from the one cold tap. The whole thing was boxed in with a hinged cover which gave Phyll a decent size work surface when cooking, and fun for the boys to hide in when not in use for either of it’s purposes. I
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thought I might like to work as a mechanic in a garage, just shows you what an innocent I was, spoke to a garage owner who had looked after Dad’s car before the war and asked if I could work there without pay for a couple of weeks to see what it was like. Started a few days later and after a day or so he wanted to pay me, worked there for a few weeks, can’t say I thought much of the job or the owner, gave me some wooden boxes with parts of a lorry engine in it and told me to build it up, no instruction manuals so took me a while to sort out what went where and he was not impressed, went out on welding jobs to hotels whose heating boilers had frozen up and cracked, nothing went right and as I unloaded the gear from the truck he threw a heavy spanner at me which just missed, I threw it back and nearly hit him, so he said I was not suitable for his job, not a very good start to civilian life! Next I called in at the Labour Exchange and it was suggested that I should go on a course to become a commercial artist, couldn’t draw to save my life so that was out, they had a vacancy for a Trainee Manager for a laundry would I like to try that. Why not I thought, so turned up for an interview by the boss lady and started next day, must learn all the processes she said and put me on a Hoffman Press doing fancy pillow slips, kept coming by every so often and throwing all I had done in the “do it again” bin, all females working there and most old enough to be my mother, put me on the calendar, long steam heated rollers that were used to iron sheets and other large items, I was at the back on my own taking things off while two or three woman fed them in, or course I got in a muddle and another job hit the dust!! So it was back home and helping Phyll with house cleaning, my father was not impressed and said I must have a job what ever it was and suggested that he could get me a job with the large building firm of which he was a very senior employee. When it came, it was as a painter’s labourer (the lowest for life in the building industry) but I just took it to save any arguments and did my turn of holding the bottom of ladders while the painter did the clever stuff, while doing this in the middle of the local shopping street two RAF officers much junior to me on my old squadron couldn’t believe their eyes, told them that good jobs like this were going fast so they’d better get in quick. I had bought a new bicycle, the one that I had bought with the money from my photo job before going into the RAF had been completely destroyed when my uncle Jack was killed on it by a German shell outside Dover. I cycled about Margate going from one painting job to another, the one I most remember was the one at the local brewery, being the lowest on the totem pole I had the job of lighting a fire with wood scraps and making the tea at mid morning and afternoon breaks, got things going just waiting to see how many to make and no one turned up, and went out side into the yard and there all the workers were, both brewery and building, lining up for tankards of beer. Told to come and get mine but just did not fancy cold beer for a drink, went in a had my cup of tea, we were there for some time and eventually I was persuaded to give the beer a
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try, never tasted anything like it, smooth and warming and just perfect, asked where I could buy some of it, told not be so silly, this was a special brew made by the brewer for the staff and not on sale anywhere!! I had not taken up the offer by my CO to go back into the RAF, guess time just went by and didn’t given it much thought, from a salary of 20 pounds a week I was now earning about 3 (took me about 14 years to get up to that again and it wasn’t worth as much when I did) we managed, or at least Phyll did, both of us took extra jobs she did cleaning for the local library and tourist department and also worked in the evenings as a cashier at a large seaside restaurant, later on Phyll worked at a couple of hospitals in the Margate area, I carried out maintenance at the same restaurant and also had a teaching job for the local technical college. My father was talking to the company manager who asked how his son the RAF officer was doing, when told that he was working for the firm as painter’s labourer suggested that there was a need for a fitter to take control of the depot used to store all the machinery used in the company and also large stocks of materials surplus from contracts would I like it? Would I just, right up my alley so after a couple of days I started work at this depot which was on ground adjacent to Manston RAF Base, and in fact my yard was next to the station bomb dump that my father had built just before the war. When I eventually found the yard it looked like a rubbish tip, met by an old man who said he was in charge and who was I. Explained what my job was and found out that he had been there for some time just to help unload and load up the odd lorries that came in from building sites, asked why things were scattered all over the place and he said that he just put things where there was a space, and certainly didn’t do any clearing up or sorting out. A number of sheds had been erected and were all full of a jumble of building materials returned from sites, he didn’t know what was in any of them and had no intention of finding out, bricks of every shape and colour were stacked in heaps without any order and large stacks of roofing tiles had collapsed, spreading out like the tide to cover other items, with weeds and flowers poking their heads between. Loaded lorries had driven over what looked to the driver empty areas, but were in fact filled with sheets of glass, tins of paint, sanitary fittings, and various strange items returned from sites as not required or perhaps in many cases wrongly ordered, so that a sticky mess of dried paint, broken glass, and unknown fragments covered some areas resembling the appearance of a hastily cleared bomb site. This would not do for me, dotted about amongst this bleak landscape were concrete mixers of all shapes and sizes, and many other rusting hulks that I had no idea what they were, order what was wanted and somewhere to work and store tools in safety. I found a shed that looked as if it might keep out the rain and with the old man’s help cleared some space for a bench which was among the multitude of items scattered about the site. One water tap was near the front entrance, I say entrance more like the gates of hell or a test of driver’s skill to weave
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through the junk piled just where it fell, and without me asking a cup of tea was soon offered, that at least had received top priority. I spent the following week looking at machines, to in the first case find out what they were and to check if they could be made to work, that would be my first job, to get the plant needed on building sites in a fit condition for work. To make matters worse there was no electricity or ‘phone connected to the site and very little in the way of anything to help me lift and replace things that were broken, I needed to get things sorted with the boss, calling into head office for my pay on Friday I asked to see him and told him what I needed and was given permission to book anything I wanted with their local supplier and arrange for power and telephone to be connected, the old man would return to his normal work of bricklayer’s labourer and I could engage a young man to take his place. So the clean up started, I concentrating on checking and repairing machines and my new helper re-stacking fallen heaps, wheeling away to a corner all the rubbish he found during his efforts, which would eventually be used to fill in some large holes uncovered during this clear up. The first shed I had used was emptied of all the rubbish and made into a small workshop where other benches were installed, the power and telephone were connected, I purchased some items of tools including a complete oxy-acetylene welding and cutting outfit from BOC, which I then had to learn how to use!! A call came for a large number of wheel barrows for a site, most that I had found had splits and cracks in the bodies and all had narrow steel wheels, repairs by welding were hastened and a quantity of wheels with pneumatic tyres were purchased, a coat of paint given from our stocks, all of which turned out to be grey of various shades when mixed together, the site foreman phoned to send transport, who shortly after receipt of the barrows phoned to register his delight in getting what appeared to be a truck load of new equipment. Gradually sheds were emptied, their contents sorted and listed and put away in some sort of order, all stocks of bricks, tiles, screws, nails, plumbing fittings, and all the multitude of items used in the building and construction industry were sorted and listen on stock sheets, these were sent to head office for typing and all site foreman and those people in the drawing, quantity and supply departments given copies, amendments made to these when required. All materials for building work was on licences, which were hard to get and the cause of a great amount of office time and paperwork, my lists helped to overcome some of these delays and gradually most people in the organisation used them to help in planning, they became even more useful when I was able to add separate sheets which gave lists of what machines were held in stock and what their state of readiness was. I was now getting more and more calls from sites asking for my help not only to supply machines and materials but my advice was asked for on the manufacture of items for sites and in many cases I was asked to make thousands of an individual item for the massive tower blocks being built in and around London to house those who had lost their homes
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due to enemy bombing. for most of this twelve years we still lived at Tivoli Road in the requisitioned house, much cleaner and more livable [sic] after Phyll’s ministrations, the wall paper in our bedroom which consisted of large purple parrots on a dark blue background had like the rest of the house been removed and given coats of a more restful colour of paint, there was always plenty of part tins returned from contracts so no problem with supplies! Philip our second son had arrived on the scene about two years after Tony, which gave Phyll. more work with washing and caring for two boys who carried on a constant war with each other and would always try to outdo each other in the speed at which they turned clean clothes into dirty rags. Sheila, Phyll’s sister came to stay and had the usual boy friends, mostly American service personnel from Manston, none of which seemed to understand that rationing of everything was still in place in the UK, invited to an evening meal on one occasion the incumbent boyfriend took out family’s weekly ration of cheese spread it our total stock of biscuits and swallowed the lot! Whether it was the same one who broke our settee into fragments one night in a fit of passion I don’t know, the remains however did come in useful as our ration of coal for heating had largely been burnt and the settee end up as fuel the stuffing and covers used to add humus to the starved patch of soil called garden at the back. To help with the family budget Phyll had obtained part time evening work at a large restaurant on the sea front manning the till, she also cleaned the Margate library, and at times the Margate Information centre, she wasn’t afraid of hard work but it did and still does seem all wrong that people like her who had done their bit during the war got nothing for their efforts while the stay at home fortune markers still got all the benefits, I noticed this particularly when visiting an aircraft factory in the Midlands, whole families worked in the one factory each one taking home much more than the fighting men did and most seemed to have a fiddle of some sort which enabled them to get the best of every thing regarding food and clothes, some got bombed but most got rich! Susan came along after a further eight years, she was born at home as Phyll had not been happy at the treatment she received at the local maternity hospital and determined not to suffer that again, her brother Peter was performing with a band at a local venue and his wife Jean stayed with us until she had her second child, we even at times had other artists to stay all to help with the family budget. I had changed my cycle for a “Corgi” , this was the war surplus parachutist motor bike, dropped with them for quick movements of men, they had a small 125cc two stroke engine, folding seat and handle bars, no instruments of any sort and very basic lights, push start, no gears, and certainly no suspension, the front tyre wore to a point after some miles so that turning on wet or icy roads was fraught with peril, many was the 360s I did on old cobble stones and slick corners. A large metal box was made and fitted and my range of operations grew to sites many miles away from base, it was a cold and slow means of transport, crawling up a
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hill with the box on the back filled with heavy tools after an hour or so on the road to be passed with ease by everything on wheels and some even on hoof did not endear me to other road users, who out of pure spite drove near and informed me if I pedalled harder would get along faster. To spend over an hour on the road to get to a site that had called me that they had problems with machinery, only to find as I often did that failure to check the oil in an engine had caused it seize up, the topping up with fresh oil prior to my arrival supposed to fool me, strong words were said by me while I stripped the engine freed the pistons and rings and got it running again. Some cases were even more bizarre, once called to a site two hours away because the small bulldozer would not “go”, this was in the middle of winter with ice and snow about, found that the machine had been left after it’s day’s work in a large puddle of liquid mud, this had frozen overnight and struggle as it may the poor thing could only slip clutches trying to get out of the clutches of the ice, a stern word to the “ganger” to get off his backside in future meant no more silly alarms from that site. On another occasion nearer home I was asked to call at a site because the 14/10 mixer would not mix (14/10 – 14 cu ft of dry material in and 10 cu ft of wet mixed out) It was still operating when I arrived on site to be shown that as the hopper tilted to pour the dry material in it shot straight out the other side, shut it down and had a look at the blades inside the drum, these often got badly worn after months of use, not in this case the drum was full to the brim with rock hard concrete. Again poor or perhaps in this case non existent maintenance, I had issued guide lines to all foreman as I found that certain work methods damaged or caused performance problems with plant, in this case of concrete mixers at the end of a day’s work a few shovels of sand or gravel should be placed in the drum and allowed to mix for a few minutes this combined with the liquid cement usually still present from the last mix and made it too weak to set hard, the following day it would be broken up during the first mix. There were a number of these information suggestions most of which I have no memory, one that still remains is the one involving flexible drives used on vibrators to consolidate in shuttering, or formwork, it was common practise to hang the vibrating head over the shuttering and leave it operating while the concrete was poured, the sharp kink in the flexible drive caused the high speed inner drive to cut a hole in the outer casing, this would be fairly large on the inside but often a very small slit on the out side, if this slit became immersed in the concrete the rotary action of the inner drive sucked in liquid concrete which soon set when switched off and the next day no vibrator, more obvious to the operator was the damaged caused if the actual vibrating head was to touch the reinforcing steel bars inside the shuttering, I have had the heads returned to me cut in half after being in contact with the steel. During the 12 years I was employed by Rice and Sons many things happened that are worth repeating. I cannot begin to remember them in any proper order will just tell them as they pop up in my memory, a local garage
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owner who’s place of business was just up the road from the yard, I bought my petrol from him and we often helped one another out with bits and pieces, he had been the only one who had an independent supply of electricity provided by a single horizontal cylinder glow bulb diesel engine to start it needed a long heating of the bulb part with an oversize blow lamp, then grasping the spokes of one of the very large fly wheels a heave to start the rotation and followed by more pulling until it fired and continued on it’s own, the trick was to let go before you went with it, rather like prop swinging an aircraft engine, his wife helped him to serve petrol, but needed the engine running to supply electricity for the pumps, the odd times when he was too ill to get out of bed I would start the thing for her and so we became friends and swapped ideas about thing, he had “come upon” some very cheap metal twist drills and wondered if I would like some they certainly looked good quality but would they cut I asked, we’ll give them a go he said and put one in his bench drill stand and tried to drill a hole, no luck must need sharpening, and still no luck, a close examination showed that they were left hand drills were stamped USAAF and no doubt had originated in the USAAF Base at Manston and were made for a DeWalt machine that did a number of operations some of which required left hand drills. The local manager of Rice and Sons had a number of children one of which was a young girl who like so many of her gender rode and had horses, the garden at his house had become too small for her latest horse and as there was quite a bit of open space at the yard now it was tidy he asked if we could manage to find room for it, wasn’t very keen but found a space between piles of bricks and partition blocks that could be fenced and space in a shed near by that would do as a tackle store. The young girl turned up with this, to us great hairy beast, and put him away while dad pulled up in his car and took her home. We used to let it out to feed around the yard during the day and never really had any trouble putting it away at night, not that any of us felt very comfortable with it, but it did cause trouble, one day it got it’s nose and most of itself jammed in the door way of a shed while it warmed itself on a potbelly stove that was burning to drive out the moisture from stored items, one of us climbed through a window and tried to back it out but it wouldn’t budge, only thing to do was push it forward and dodge the backward explosion as it’s nose got burnt, it often scratched it’s back on stacks of bricks or tiles, our only warning the rumble as thousands of carefully piled ones slowly slid down to cover yards of ground, when burning worm infested wood it loved to put its hooves into the hot ashes and the long length of pipe we used to move the wood about poured out smoke from it’s top end, the horse stood with this in it’s mouth and seemed to enjoy the odd smoke. We had a few minor problems with this horse, it got out one day when a stupid lorry driver left the gate open and the young lad I had taken on spent most of the day chasing it over hill and dale until it leapt a fence into a paddock of other horses and charged about until this owner
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caught it and insisted on knowing who the owner was. The end for us came when I arrived at the yard one Monday morning to be greeted by a very irate RAF officer, the horse had apparently got out during the weekend and right opposite was the grass runway of Manston Aerodrome, these acres of lush grass were heaven to the horse so in spite of large numbers of service personnel in jeeps and on motor bikes it just cantered madly about preventing the circling aircraft from landing. The main runway at Manston was some miles long, equipped with FIDO and a major airfield during WW2, at this time it was occupied by the USAAF flying Lockheed “Shrunk Works” F80 Shooting Stars, Spifires [sic] had by legend taken off across the runway it was so wide, the grass runway was used by visiting light aircraft to leave the main runway free for ops. I noted that the officer concerned was a non flier and after he had calmed down suggested that he get a few years in before going off at the mouth to me, but felt sorry for him as no doubt he had been torn off a strip by some other prat in uniform, told him the horse was not mine and mentioned my service number which shut him up, but the horse had to go and so it did. Another morning I arrived to be called over by the next door neighbour, who had a small holding and piggery behind his house, to complain about the noise I had been making late into the previous evening, said he would come over and shut me up if it happened again, told him I wished he had which surprised him. What had happened was I crawled into the drum of a large concrete mixer to check the blades and water feed pipes, it was going out on to a site the next day and the phone call only came in as I locked up the workshop, my men had already gone, knew that most of the mixer was in good condition but wondered if the blades and water pipes had been checked, blades were OK but still a small amount of concrete on the inside of the water pipe, got a hammer and cold chisel from the toolbox and chipped out the bits and pieces, a small pebble just didn’t want to move so pushed my finger in to flick it out, the pebble dropped down jamming my finger in and the harder I pulled the more it jammed. The only way I could get out was to hold up the pebble with a piece of wire while I eased my finger out, the tools I had with me were too large, that is why I was banging on the drum hoping someone would come and help me, but no luck and I was going deaf from my hammering. Perhaps the last shovel of sand put in to weaken the cement remaining in the drum had a piece of tie wire in, what a hope but after scrabbling about with my free hand for some time I found a piece, held the pebble up and quickly grabbed my tools and crawled out, the neighbour laughed and would come quick if heard banging late again. Another Monday I arrived at the yard to find the entrance blocked by a very large and dirty Steamroller, no sign of a driver, enquires with neighbours did not help, no note or message on the machine, just parked most tidily across the entrance, walking space only. None of my people knew anything about it and none of us knew how to drive, we checked the tank which had some water in it but no coal or wood,
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lit a fire made sure the sight glass was full and when steam started to come out of various holes, pushed and pulled every lever in sight until it moved into the yard, rolled up and down the yard a few times to make our road smooth and put the brake on, the fire was only wood so it soon burnt down and went out. It stay there for a couple of days and then one morning when I got to work it was gone, never did solve the mystery of the vanishing steamroller. While I was having fun and games at work Phyll was doing her best to balance what budget we had, many times when the gas meter was emptied we didn’t get any “rebate” only the return of the many foreign coins left over from my trips abroad that we had used to get gas because we were flat broke. Tony and Philip were a great trail being about 5 and 3 years old, she once got them all dressed up in their best white outfits, told them to be good boys and play together while she got dressed in her only decent frock, we were going to my Granny and Grand Dad Miles 50th wedding anniversary party, all the family would be there and poor as we were had to make out we were not. I was on my way home from some job or other and arrived in time to see the two boys playing together in the garden as requested, only they were playing in the heap of soot that the chimney sweep had left the previous day after sweeping our coal fire chimney’s!! Poor Phyll all the hard work, no [sic] only did she make their outfits, get them clean and looking smart, rushed to get dressed herself, and now had to start all over again, and I turned up dirty as well. We got to the party and everyone said how smart the boys looked, just one more of the miracles she worked. Kids can drive you mad and at other times make you laugh, arriving home from work one day Phyll told me that Tony had put his head into the bath of bleach water while she had been hanging out the clothes, ‘What a silly thing to do’ I said to him, ‘it could burn you and make your hair fall out’ With eyes as large as saucers he looked at me and said, ‘Is that what you did Daddy’ I couldn’t keep a straight face nor could Phyll. Returning from a trip to my brother’s small pig farm Tony suddenly said ‘I know eggs come from chickens Dad, do pigs lay sausages?’ always expect the unexpected where children are concerned. Apart from all the house work, looking after our growing family, Phyll always managed to find yet another job to help the budget, with Susan in her pram she pushed her quite a way to clean and tidy the house of the local vet, his wife looking after Susan while she did this, funny thing neither of us complained, just glad that we could feed and clothe us all from week to week. Among the jobs I did as part time extra work, was painting a house that a nurse lived in near the Manston yard, and doing all repairs and maintenance at the same restaurant that Phyll did evening work. This later one was a real learning experience, all equipment and machines had to be checked before the place opened for the summer season and most were completely strange to me. All the kitchen machines had to be cleaned and tested, and what most of them did was a mystery to me but head down and asked a few questions and off I went, the
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chipper didn’t work I was told, pulled a cover or two off and found that the last one to use it had put in a rock instead of a potato (dissatisfied employee?) cleared that, straightened the blades and OK again, the spud peeler was very slow, found that the abrasive lining was no longer abrasive! new lining ordered and fitted, and so I worked my way through all the catering gear. The manager asked me to look at the revolving entrance doors, had been very stiff at the end of the last season, what did I know about revolving doors, nothing but there must be a reason, climbed on top and found that the lock nuts that held the door up were loose and had allowed the door to drop so that it dragged on the floor, soon adjusted that and smiles from the manager, he began to think I was a miracle worker, but most of it was just the very uncommon common sense. This restaurant was situated on the land side of the road that ran along the beach, a section that was below high tide mark had a dance floor and entertainments as well as food and drinks served. The floor and walls up to high tide level had been “tanked” with a bitumen coating to prevent sea water damaging the decorations and timber block dance floor, some clever “dicky” had removed some of this timber block dance floor and “tanking” to increase the area used to cater for food and drink patrons, vinyl floor tiles had been stuck over the bare concrete floor that was exposed, at the same level and matching those already installed, but these new ones had no “tanking” underneath. The manager explained that as the tide came in and out the salt water dissolved the adhesive which expanded into a large ulcerous looking lump in the middle of the tiles, ladies with stiletto high heels punctured them when they stood on them and the resulting black goo shot up their legs damaging stockings and dresses. I had a look at the problem and sure enough a number were well and truly ready to “blow their top”, dug out those that needed replacing and realised that to put new ones in with adhesive was not the answer, nails would be good but the heads would probably trip people but headless one might be the answer but into concrete could be a problem, had an old gramophone at home that used the old steel needles, gave that a try and magic no problem the hardened needles went into the concrete easily and held the tiles OK, quick trip to the local gramophone shop got all their old used needles and a few boxes of new ones and just kept an eye on the tiles and as they started to bulge out they came and new ones in, during that summer think I changed the whole lot. I was on call during the evenings and week ends not too many problems, most had been already fixed mainly things broken by staff or customers, the ‘chefs’ were a funny lot always on their “high horses” about how clever they were and just threw things about if upset, more work for me, the amplifier and microphones at the dances often played up due mainly I think by drunks grabbing the mic. to bellow their inane rubbish. During the summer ‘season’ Phyll did other work, one of her aunties had a “Boarding house”, perhaps the more modern ‘bed and breakfast’ might convey to readers what it was,
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whole families came to Margate and other seaside resorts to spend their summer holidays, the cheapest accommodation for a family being the Boarding House, must be out of the house by about nine thirty and not let back in to the afternoon, these regulations varied, some miserable people stuck to them, but people never went back to them. Phyll’s job was to clean and tidy all the bedrooms, change over days, usually Saturday was very hard, most of the houses were big old places with perhaps only one lavatory and bathroom on each floor, some not even that, so chamber pots or ‘gusunders’ were provided under all beds, hence the commonly used expression used in those days for all things running late “here it is (time) and not a po emptied”. How Phyll managed to keep house, look after me and the kids and still go out to work I don’t know, no such thing as child minding in those days, we couldn’t have afforded it if there had been, must ask her some time how she managed it all!!! The house in Tivoli Road had no electricity, lighting by gas may be romantic but fraught with problems, too much gas pressure or touched when being lit and mantles break, a small hole will send a jet of flame against the glass cover and in winter when the whole house is cold, the glass shatters and people get cut, candles were used to move from room to room, and checking a sleeping baby without dripping candle grease on everything was an art soon learnt. We decorated this old house from top to bottom, never thought to ask for money to pay for things just got on and did it, remember Phyll standing on a chair wallpapering our bedroom just hours before she asked me to go out and phone the midwife as Susan was on the way, we had made up a bed for her in the dining room so no stairs to climb, I was pushed out and told to boil lots of water and get piles of newspaper, think the water boiling job was to shut me up, brave things woman, glad it was Phyll and not me going through child birth, I need medical attention if I break a finger nail, guess all men are cowards. Because the house was one of a long row of terrace houses, now known as town houses, houses all joined together, being old and some had been empty all during the war, mice had invaded one or two, we had used traps and got rid of ours but roofs and coal cellars joined, so that migration to the best food source was common. All food was kept in mice proof containers, the only source of food not covered being the layers of fat on the inside of the ancient gas cooker, efforts to get it clean only disturbed the recent deposits. Leaving Phyll sitting beside the fire in the room we used most of the time I went out to the cold kitchen to make our nightly drink of cocoa, as I lit the gas light I could hear a scrabbling coming from the oven, a mouse was having supper also, blocking the rear vent up with some clothes waiting to be washed I turned on the oven gas, waited for the scrabbling to end and picked up a dead mouse and in triumph took it in to show Phyll threw it on the fire and returned to make our cocoa. The next night a repeat performance was in sight as the next mouse awaited it’s fate, on went the gas, open came the door and Reg ended on his back against the wall as the
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cooker exploded, with the eye brows, eye lashes and moustache singed I staggered into Phyll, no longer the hero just a poor wounded soldier. The previous night the gas for our cocoa had not been lit, tonight it had, when I opened the oven door the gas escaped and was lit by the gas alight on top. Phyll covered my sores with Vaseline and I hurried out to get the mouse only to see it disappear behind the vegetable boxes in the larder, using all my force I crushed the box against the wall and another dead one, but of course the milk boiled over so I guess you could say, Reg one, the mice one, a draw. A friend of both Phyll and I when were at school was Laurie Foat he worked with his father who had a Greengrocer’s shop in Eaton Rd, I had been interested in bees when at school and found that Laurie also had an interest and had in fact a number of bee hives. We got together and started to expend the number of hives by breeding and bought quality Queen bees which we introduced after removing the old queens, we had bees in all sorts of places, orchardists welcomed us as pollination of their fruit trees was ensured, growers of many crops wanted our bees on site, this sometimes was a very painful as during transit the hives often moved and many times we travelled with swarms of bees round our heads, hoping that we would arrive on site still with enough to carry out the job in hand.
We experimented with new ideas, the only hive that had been used in England apart from the straw skip was the WBC, this had inner boxes in which the frames fitted, usually two types, honey and brood, and outer sloping ones that gave insulation in the cold months when the bees were in hibernation, we tried out the new style National hives, these were single wall and larger than the WBC (how I remember all this after 50 years, I do not know) The National hive was a copy of hives used in warmer countries such as Australia and South Africa, where the honey flow continued most of the year and hibernation was not needed, our extractor could not handle the bigger National frames and filling by the bees took much longer and in fact frames were often found to be only half full even if the honey flow had been good, they were easier to handle but really not for the small bee keeper who enjoyed the hobby more that the honey.
We also tried out a new floor board which had a fine mesh panel in it, a cover over it was controlled by a thermostat which opened and closed it depending on the temperature, this in theory helped the bees to drive off the moisture from the honey before it was capped. An old wives tale says that your bees know you and you must tell them all about you family particularly births and deaths, whether this is true I don’t know but sitting by the entrance to a hive as the sun goes down with crowds of bees at the entrance to the hive all facing inwards fanning their wings madly to drive off the moisture from that day’s honey crop is a rather magic experience, the bees ignore you and with your face close to them the sweet smell of clover,
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apple or other flowers they have been visiting beats any of man’s bottled perfumes.
As winter approached one year, it was obvious that two of our hives were not big enough to survive over the long months ahead, one had been used as a breeding hive for new queens, the other the remnants of one that had swarmed in an orchard miles away and the orchardist had not told us until it was too late to get most of them back. We would need to combine them and as bees are very territorial they couldn’t just be put together (one of the two queens must be removed), most of both hives would be killed, there were two normal ways to do this, cover each lot of bees with flour then combine them and by the time they had cleaned all the flour off themselves they would all smell the same, another ways was to block up the entrances put many layers of newspapers between the two and wait until the two lots of bees had chewed their way through and hope they would be friends.
Laurie lived over his father’s shop which had a flat roof which could be reached from one of Laurie’s windows, the combining needed to be watched to see if it was going according to plan, and the bulk of our hives were on land some miles away, the flat roof above the shop was an ideal place, we thought, the hives were set up near one another and a search through Laurie’s wife’s food cupboard failed to find any flour but a number of half packets of different coloured blanc-mange powder seemed just as good, the lid was removed from one hive and well dusted with powder, the floor taken off the other placed on top and it’s roof removed and the remainder of the powder sprinkled in.
Some of the bees took offence at this and gave us both our usual injection of anti-rheumatic treatment (after the number of stings I took should never get any joint problems, perhaps another old wives tale!) we retreated behind the closed windows of Laurie’s flat to watch events, all seemed to be going well until Laurie’s father suddenly appeared in the room, not a very happy Daddy, bees, all colours of the rainbow were driving his customers away, no one had been stung, but they were landing on everyone and everything and bright orange red, blue, and even multi coloured bees were not the normal thing seen in shops. After about an hour the panic was over and all the bees had settled down to do what bees do best, hum, and make honey.
Bees like the rest of living things get sick and we sent any suspect ones to Rothamstead Research Institute for analysis. I had been working the bees one weekend and on the Monday morning woke up feeling not too good, turning to Phyll in bed asked if my face was swollen, the look on her face and a sudden withdrawal of breath told me the tale, got out of bed and looked in the mirror, two slits that must have been eyes once, two nose holes
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that belonged more to a member of the pig family, the whole lot buried in a red blotched landscape of no sharp edges just fat curves, felt even sicker after seeing that sight. Phyll rang the doctor, (doctors actually came to see the sick in those days) who knew of our family history and at once remarked that it looked like a bee sting, told him we had a hive that we suspected had paralysis and were awaiting the results of tests, sat on my bed for about half an hour finding out all the symptoms of various bee diseases, gave me pills to take, come and see me in ten days, these blue pills got rid of the swelling but seemed to deposit glass chips in my joints, Phyll had to help me move and the pain was worse than the sting, managed to walk with great pain to his surgery after ten days, when I told him of my joints problem, said he should have given me these other pills to dissolve the crystals that would form in my joints.
Went to him once with a very swollen elbow, tennis elbow he said, don’t play it I said, showed me his elbow which was just as swollen as mine, got mine playing golf he said, what shall I do I said, don’t play golf or tennis for a bit was the answer!! Good doctor always came when asked and never gave you any bull, just one of the old school, straight answers to straight questions and don’t go to him if you just wanted a note to stay away from work, I never did, in fact had to argue with him at times when he wanted me to rest, but mutual respect was our way.
At work load was getting greater most self inflicted see a job do it is still my way, and the firm found that if they wanted some thing done and it was possible for me to do it, it got done. The “Corgi” motor bike was just too small for all the tasks expected of me, tried to get a van from the firm, but even old ones were very hard to get after the War, saw an advertisement for a 1928 Austin 7 only 20 quid, borrowed the money from my Dad and went to pick it up, one of the firm’s lorries dropped me off at this farm many miles away from home, it was in the back of a barn and sounded a bit rough when started up, farmer said it had been used to carry a full milk churn down to the front gate each day, drove it out to the yard at Manston, the engine rattle getting worse as time went on. Left it there to begin work on it the next day, stripped it right down, found the front seat was a bale of straw, no back seat, when pulled to pieces the small parts just filled a cardboard box, the chassis was two slender bits of channel joined at one end and that had a number of cracks in it, engine and body was all aluminium so very light, Phyll not very impressed when she first saw it, a box of greasy bits and some other bits of tin hanging on the workshop wall. I rebuilt the thing from scratch, crankshaft reground, cylinders rebored, valves and seats refaced, king pins and bushes renewed, any cracks in the chassis or body welded up, new seats, and tyres and tubes, it was a “tourer” open body and need less to say the canopy was missing, I had a new one made by a coach builder, when finished I spray painted it dark blue, and we now had our own motor car to
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go about and I had arranged payment by the firm for so much a mile when I used it on the firms business, which in fact covered all our costs of the car and a bit over, the overhaul had been done in the firms time and at their cost, not that they were made aware of it, and wouldn’t have minded if they had, for me to be mobile anywhere anytime was what they wanted and now had it.
I could take a decent size tool kit out on repair jobs and even the odd spare part, if they wanted me to do oxy cutting or welding a van or truck had to be available to carry the cylinders and other gear, and the oxy cutting began to become a major part of my work, I had taken on a fitter who stayed at the yard and together with the young bloke I had engaged kept on top of the repairs to machinery while I was out on jobs. A list of all of the metal work jobs I did on site would take pages and strain the old memory but some can never be forgotten for various reasons.
There are three which stick in the memory, Dreamland a very well known and large entertainment park, side shows, scenic railway, ghost house, roller coaster, you name it, Klingers a stocking and tights factory built by Rice and Sons, and The new Margate and district Telephone Exchange also built by Rice’s.
I’ll start with the last, the telephone exchange, this was a multi storey building with imposing stairs and entrance halls, Italian workers had been brought from Italy to do all the Terraza work to floors and stairs, my first contact with the site was when one of their machines would not start and the local garages couldn’t or wouldn’t repair it for them, not a very big job to fix it as I remember, but with typical Italian gusto I was treated as if I had saved them from a fate worse than death itself, showed me all their secrets for treating Terraza floors before people were allowed to walk on it, dozens of bottles of milk poured on after it was ground and washed, the fat from the milk sealed the pores in the cement and polish was applied over this.
The interior hand rail supports up the stairs had been concreted in before the Italians started their work, before they applied the final grinding and polishing they wanted the steel core rail for the wooden hand rail fitted, from their previous experience metal filings often landed on their Terraza and caused stains which were hard to remove, all the interior and exterior steel fences and railings had been contracted from by a London based company some 75 miles away by road. Their workmen arrived on site to fit the core rail and spent a couple of weeks drilling and fitting this top rail and returned to London, the manufacturers of the wooden rail itself came to the site to check that this work had been carried out properly, most people don’t look at wooden hand rails in multi storey buildings, next time you are in one have a look at the complicated solid wood shapes made to change direction
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round corners or up to the next flight, all made from plans and joins that are hard to see. The steel core rail was a mess and phone calls to the London manufactures went un-answered, there was also the question of some hundreds of yards of exterior fancy railings which had to be fitted into holes cut in the Portland Stone capping that was the topping for a wall that curved round and sloped and ended at various entrances on three sides of the building.
The call came in one morning to visit this site and see the site manager, who just happened to be my Father! He showed me the stair problem, the core rail in some cases had been cut short and in others it was too long making the legs fixed into the concrete look like a row of trees, some of the end rolls were all twisted, in fact it was a mess, went back to the yard got oxy gear and other tools told my staff expect me when see me and ring if you can’t cope, the only way was to remove completely the core rail, straighten and check for plumb the supports, and start one end and rectify as I went, finished that part in a week or so, it was OK’d by the handrail people and the Italians who still made a fuss of me and I started to pack up my gear to return to base, that was not on my father’s plans, the steel railing manufacturers had been ‘sacked’, would get no further payments, I would complete the work! ‘Thanks Dad I had other jobs to do,’ ‘but you don’t leave here until the railings are complete’, see what happens when you do a good job? you get more!!
I found that not only had I to get the railings to fit, but had to concrete the legs into the wall leaving the cement a good half inch below the top of the Portland Stone, I then had to come back when the concrete was set and pour melted lead into this space leaving it slightly proud, which I then had to hammer flat using a caulking chisel so that the lead prevented any water from getting at the steel in the wall and causing it to rust. All this was said as if I had been doing this all my life and my own father standing there and saying it, there’s family for you.
I started on a long straight section and when concreted in it was straight as a gun barrel, a good start, now for this curved and sloping section, each day was yet another battle with wedging posts upright, cutting and welding, all joins in the rails had to be half lapped, welded and smooth, at last this very long section was finished, ready for the lead. Back to the yard for a coke fired furnace, pouring pots, melting pots, scrap lead, coke and other tools, I needed help with this lead pouring so told my fitter to report to the site the next day and we would make a start, did the straight run first, each hold had to be done in one pour, lead soon gets a skin on it and if stopped half way would not seal properly, things went well until we did a hole that was damp and all hell broke loose, the hot lead turned the dampness to steam the lead sealed the hole, but the steam won and lead shot out covering
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both of us with lead spots on face and clothes, none in our eyes thank god, a lesson learnt, back to the yard to make to face masks with thick glass and a frame much like an arc welding mask.
Each hole after that had to be heated with the oxy torch to ensure no moisture was present, winter in England there is always moisture present, and so we poured and heated and caulked our way round to the last post outside the main entrance, heated, checked for moisture, poured, and bang the whole of the dark brick work at the main entrance covered in very pretty sparkling lead spots, who should walk out before we could hide, yes dad, “now you’ve got a long job picking every bit of lead out”, some we removed but like I said earlier it soon gets a skin and goes dark and it was winter with no light so we only spent one day doing the easy seen ones and then back to the yard for a rest!!
Dreamland was a very different job, it was the height of the holiday season and the crowds filled every place of entertainment, Margate was a sea side place and families came from all over southern England for their week or two of fun in the sun. Those businesses that depended on the holiday makers for their lively hood had just three months to make enough to last all year, rain didn’t really matter the people came anyhow just spent their money in different places and Dreamland was humming. A very large building had been erected just inside one of the entrances it was about 40 feet high and about a hundred yards square, really only consisted of a corrugated cement and asbestos sheeting clad roof on massive steel supports, the interior filled with side shows and games of chance (very little chance in most cases) and it was always very well patronised, if the sun was out it was a place to get cool and if raining a good shelter, most of the people who ran the side shows paid rent for the site and many managed to find a space in their stall to get their head down when Dreamland was closed for the night. I received a call at home before I even left for the yard to get my Oxy gear and come down to Dreamland to do some cutting, I always had plenty of gas bottles on hand and had purchased very long hoses because of the difficult jobs I was always getting. Arriving at Dreamland I could see this skeleton of a building still smoking from the fire, the foreman met me to say that the owners wanted it cleared away as soon as possible so that trading could start again, but if I made a start a professional in building removal was on his way and he would take over from me. Looking at the structure it was basically a cross with massive compound girder columns at each corner, with again compound steel trusses spanning from column to column, the roofing material had collapsed into the rubbish beneath, but the heavy purlins were all twisted about and had been put under great stress by the heat of the fire. The safest way was to get on top of the building and using boards climb up to the ridges from both sides cutting and dropping the purlins as you went, this would leave the massive truss supported only at
[page break]
each end, cut through this at one end with great care, and hang on when it dropped, climb up the other side and drop the remaining end of the truss, this could then be cut up into manageable size lumps and carted away, the two columns could then be cut close to ground level and chopped up and after the whole building had been removed a final cutting of the column stumps would make the site use able again. Explained my thoughts to the site foreman and the boss from Dreamland who both agreed that it seemed OK, barriers were put in place and men stationed to prevent anyone entering the area where I was working, ladders erected for me to get up top, but my hoses though long would not reach far enough, so with a bit of a strain got the two heavy cylinders up to the top of the columns and lashed them there, I would leave them in that position until the time came to fell the columns. Up I went, ladders removed and I started cutting away the purlins, each one acted in a different way depending on what the stress was, just had to be careful and not get too close at the final cut, but things went OK and soon the clatter of falling steel and the showers of sparks from the Oxy torch had a crowd of sight see’ers, got the first truss free of purlins and ready to drop one end, when an almighty bang nearly tossed me off the roof, looked round to where the noise had come from and there was the “professional”, with his long ladder leaning on the truss, he had cut through one end of the truss and had not cut any of the purlins, dangling by a rope tied to the ladder his torch burning the ladder and the truss hanging by the already under stress purlins. The site foreman rushed to help him down and put out the ladder fire.
I cut my truss end and went round to start on the other end when another loud crash rang through the site, the idiot had cut the same end of another truss and now two were hanging and swinging, told the foreman I was off, let the idiot kill himself but not me, don’t worry he said he has scared himself half to death and is going home the job is all yours, I often wonder if I should have thanked the foreman. For a number of days I started at sun up and worked long into the night, balancing on boards and cutting steel, usually woke up in the middle of the night shaking at all the near misses I’d had during the day but just went back to the job in the morning, Phyll was going to the cinema one night with her friend up the road and took a short cut through Dreamland to get to the cinema, saw me up on the roof sparks flying everywhere and just couldn’t go any further, got the job finished in the end but nobody ever thanked me and not even a whisper of some extra money, should have asked for some before I started I suppose, just too thick for my own good. Reading this could make people think that I am boasting about how clever I was, I’m afraid the reverse is the case, all of my children have more sense than I, if extra work is undertaken, extra pay is demanded, and received, promotion is given with extra perks for an employee of value, I just did everything asked and in most cases took on extra responsibilities without being asked and it seems never thanked, managers used my work to enhance their own images and gained increases
[page break]
of salary and position by getting work done under cost and dead lines because they could depend on me, and I the mug just kept on delivering. I obviously didn’t realise any of this at the time, probably would have carried on just the same if I had, but I had something that none of them had, satisfaction of doing a good job and over coming difficulties that would have had many asking for help, none of my jobs could ever cause me any embarrassment about my skill as a fitter, my training in the RAF taught me that near enough is not good enough, only one way, the right way, think before you start, it might be too late if you start to think after you have started!! The next job I will describe was again something quite different, a site had been cleared on the industrial are between Margate and Ramsgate for a factory being built to manufacture stockings and tights and owned by Klingers. This factory was a very special construction in reinforced concrete, a triple barrel vault roof with north facing double sealed windows, parking and storage beneath, no columns or supports of any kind on the factory floor. The drawings of the reinforcing steel bars to go into the roof were a maze of interlocking rods, the roof changing in thickness from massive beams running the full length, to just three inches in thickness in the centre of the curves and again getting thicker to support the large double glazed window units. I was given various lists of machinery required and the dates when they should be on site, apart from the usual concrete mixers and scaffolding, steel bar bending tools were wanted to make all the complicated shapes of reinforcing needed, the men on site would start working to the drawings provided many weeks before the actual construction work started. Benches, various benders and cutting gear was delivered to the site but the foreman had trouble actually bending some of the shapes with the machines provided, investigations of machines on the market indicated that there was none that could do the tight and difficult shapes wanted. The architect would not change his design, so the foreman, workers and I put our heads together and worked out a simple device to bend the difficult pieces, made one of the machines and once we were all happy with it made a couple more. Further tales of working life can be found in the FAMILY CD. Reg
[page break]
[Missing photograph]
[underlined] Wedding photo April 28 1945 [/underlined]
– Reg Miles
http://www.geocities.com/jkjustin/Milesbio6.html
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Biography of Reg Miles
Description
An account of the resource
A detailed Biography of Reg' service and post service life.
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Navy
Royal Canadian Air Force
Royal Air Force. Transport Command
Royal Air Force. Fighter Command
Free French Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Margate
England--Wendover
England--Aylesbury
England--High Wycombe
England--Dover
England--Shrewsbury
England--Liverpool
England--Penzance
England--Devon
South Africa--Bloemfontein
England--Taunton
England--Blackpool
Sierra Leone--Freetown
South Africa--Durban
South Africa--Muizenberg
South Africa--Cape Town
South Africa--Krugersdorp
Germany--Dortmund
Belgium--Ghent
England--Folkestone
France--Paris
France--Lens
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Karlsruhe
Germany--Essen
Belgium--Liège
France--Somain
France--Pas-de-Calais
France--Neufchâtel-en-Bray
Germany--Stuttgart
Germany--Hamburg
France--Creil Region
France--Saint-Vaast-La Hougue
France--Montrichard
France--Mimoyecques
France--Le Havre
Germany--Castrop-Rauxel
Germany--Osnabrück
Germany--Kiel
France--Boulogne-sur-Mer
France--Calais
Germany--Bottrop
Germany--Oberhausen (Düsseldorf)
Norway--Bergen
England--Harrogate
Malta
Egypt--Cairo
Australia
Queensland--Mackay
Libya--Tripoli
Israel--Tel Aviv
Middle East--Jerusalem
West Bank--Bethlehem
Iraq--Baṣrah
Pakistan--Karachi
India--Kolkata
Sri Lanka--Ratmalana
Sri Lanka--Negombo
Israel--Lod
India--New Delhi
England--Cornwall (County)
France
Queensland
Libya
Egypt
Germany
Belgium
India
Iraq
Israel
Norway
South Africa
Pakistan
Sri Lanka
Sierra Leone
West Bank
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Kent
England--Shropshire
England--Somerset
England--Lancashire
Egypt--Jīzah
France--Chantilly Forest
Creator
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Reg Miles
Format
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109 printed sheets
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
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BMilesRJMilesRJv1
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
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.
Contributor
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Georgie Donaldson
346 Squadron
347 Squadron
420 Squadron
425 Squadron
428 Squadron
432 Squadron
6 Group
77 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
B-17
Beaufighter
Blenheim
bomb aimer
C-47
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
control caravan
crash
crewing up
debriefing
demobilisation
dispersal
Distinguished Flying Cross
entertainment
FIDO
fitter engine
flight engineer
Fw 190
Gee
Grand Slam
ground crew
ground personnel
H2S
Halifax
Halifax Mk 2
Halifax Mk 5
Hampden
hangar
Harvard
Heavy Conversion Unit
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
home front
Hurricane
Ju 88
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 2
love and romance
Manchester
Master Bomber
Me 109
mess
military ethos
military living conditions
military service conditions
Mosquito
navigator
Nissen hut
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Oboe
P-51
Pathfinders
perimeter track
pilot
promotion
RAF Carnaby
RAF Dishforth
RAF East Moor
RAF Elvington
RAF Halton
RAF Langar
RAF Lyneham
RAF Manston
RAF Nutts Corner
RAF Prestwick
RAF Shawbury
RAF Skellingthorpe
RAF Skipton on Swale
RAF St Athan
RAF St Eval
RAF Tholthorpe
RAF Tilstock
RAF Woodbridge
recruitment
runway
Scarecrow
searchlight
Second Tactical Air Force
service vehicle
Spitfire
sport
Stirling
target indicator
Tiger Moth
training
Typhoon
V-1
V-2
V-weapon
Wallis, Barnes Neville (1887-1979)
Wellington
Window
wireless operator
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
York
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/83/7964/EMullinsRNCochraneDH451109.2.pdf
97075e7f6f78b7cc4cb7abb51dc507a0
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
Cochrane, Donald Harvin
Donald Harvin Cochrane
D H Cochrane
Subject
The topic of the resource
World War (1939-1945)
Great Britain. Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Description
An account of the resource
13 Items. The collections concerns Donald Harvin Cochrane DFM (1926 - 2010, 1395422, Royal Air Force) and consists of his log book, letters, service material, photographs and a memoir. Donald Cochrane completed 29 operations as a wireless operator with 460 Squadron <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Pamela Ann Staffel and catalogued by Barry Hunter.<br />
<p>This collection also contains items concerning Colin Farrant. Additional information on Colin Farrant is available via the <a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/107397/">IBCC Losses Database</a>.</p>
<p> </p>
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-04-12
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. 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
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Cochrane, DH
Transcribed document
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[postmark]
[postage stamp]
Mr D H Cochrane
No 8 Raydean Road
Barnet
Herts
England
[page break]
R.N.Mullins
c/o Qantas Empire Airways
Shell House Carrington St
Sydney NSW.
Colombo [indecipherable word] 9/11/45
Hello Don!
I was very pleased to recieve [sic] your letter recently, I often wonder how all you chaps are getting along, of course I hear from Jock occasionally and I have heard from your Ted on one occasion. I thought you would probably be married before this. I may beat you to it yet, I hoped to be back to marry Pat before now but things have been in a mess with us. I have done [indecipherable word] trips from Aust to Karachi but never seem to be able to get right through, however I’ll manage it one of these days and will do my best to let you know so as you can come to the wedding, I would like to have you and Jock there also any of the others if we can let them know but then I don’t know just when it will be. I rather think now
[page break]
that it will be about next Feb.
I’m still a second pilot on these bloody Lancastrians and I’m not terribly keen on the job although the money is very good, it will be much better later on of course when I get some promotion. Most of the wops are pretty dim, they are always blaming the set for their mistakes, I feel that some of your RAF boys who have had plenty of experience on the equipment could do a better job, these civil people are very jealous of R.A.F. types you know, but we won’t lose any sleep over that will we Don!
Yes Don. I sometimes long for the old days we spent on the Sqdn, they were wizard days weren’t they?
I suppose you will soon be a civvy again, I hope so Don as I think you have had your share of service life.
[page break]
Re the girl back home whom you mentioned Don, that finished last August when I fell for Pat, I’ll never be sorry about that as Pat is a wizard kid.
Cyril Woolmough is still in England, he married a WAAF from Surrey. I hope to see him home early next year.
I suppose winter is setting in over your way now, the weather is very hot in Australia at present.
Each one of these trips takes about 15 days Don as we stop off for three days rest at each halt then we get about 16 days off in Sydney before commencing the next trip so you can see that we’re really not overworked.
Well Don, that’s about all for now. I’ll let you know when I’m coming over in the meantime all the Very Best From Your Old Pal Reg
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
Letter to Donald Cochrane from Reg Mullins
Description
An account of the resource
A letter written by Reg Mullins to Don Cochrane. There is a discussion on wartime colleagues and getting married. Reg is a co-pilot on Lancastrians but misses his time in the RAF.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Reg Mullins
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1945-11-09
Format
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Handwritten two page letter and envelope
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Correspondence
Identifier
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EMullinsRNCochraneDH451109
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Civilian
Royal Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Australia
Sri Lanka
Pakistan
Pakistan--Karachi
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1945-11
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
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IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Emily Jennings
Lancastrian
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1198/11771/PWilkieD1601.2.jpg
ad66d1412d06fa51a7bd05bb25899ef6
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1198/11771/AWilkieD161102.1.mp3
246c576d22ca9f5147b67f48e24ac092
Dublin Core
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Title
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Wilkie, David
D Wilkie
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with Flight Lieutenant David Wilkie (b. 1924, 1821776 Royal Air Force). He flew operations as a flight engineer with 432 Squadron.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-11-01
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.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Wilkie, D
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
RP: This interview is being conducted on behalf of the International Bomber Command Centre. The interviewer is Rod Pickles. The interviewee is David Wilkie. The interview is taking place at David’s home in Christchurch, Dorset on the 2nd of November 2016. Also present is Adrian Goodwin. David, good afternoon and thank you for inviting me here. This interview is all about you so if we could sort of go back to the beginning and your, your days when, where you were born and when you left school and what your thoughts were about joining the RAF. So first, tell us where were you born?
DW: I was born in Edinburgh. Well, part of Edinburgh on the 3rd of May 1924. I went to a school from five right on until I left it at fifteen, sixteen. Trinity Academy, quite a good school.
RP: So that’s one school from primary through secondary education?
DW: Yeah.
RP: That’s a good idea.
DW: All the way. Which is very good and it was a good school, good playing fields which made me happier than being at school because I was quite an athlete and very keen on games and rugby and so on.
RP: What was your, your best sport you were the best at would you say?
DW: My best sport was actually rugby but on the other hand I was pretty good at a number of athletics, running around tracks and things like that.
RP: You’ve got the build of a fly half to me, what position were you?
DW: I was fly half but also on the wing.
RP: Oh right.
DW: But we’ll say fly half and in fact, at that time, my ambition was to become a teacher at a school, doing, what do you call it, jobs? Not jobs.
RP: Teaching, teaching physical education.
DW: Teaching.
RP: Games.
DW: Games and the like.
RP: So what, what persuaded you to another career then?
DW: Well I think the realities of the situation. When I got to fifteen, sixteen I left school and in fact I went into, by persuasion from my parents I went into a solicitor’s office for a time. That was a local one. But I wasn’t keen on that very much so it didn’t take me too long to volunteer to get into the RAF.
RP: Was there a particular reason you chose the RAF? Was there any family association or was it just a good idea?
DW: No family association at all, my father had been in the army of course and so forth. But no, I just liked the idea of flying and I was, accepted for pilot navigator observer trainee but there was a huge queue for that and I wasn’t yet, we were told to go away. Come back. Go away. ‘Join the ATC and we’ll have you back as and when there’s room.’ That seemed to go on forever. That was what had been discussed because by then we were in the ATC so we decided that, in fact, three of us did, that it was too long to wait. But they are looking for flight engineers so why don’t we volunteer for that? Which the three of us did and we were trained and we had training of course down at Wales mainly and that’s about a year’s training or so.
RP: Whereabouts in Wales were you?
DW: It was down near Cardiff, between Cardiff and Swansea.
RP: St Athan, would that have been?
DW: It was in fact St Athan.
RP: Yeah.
DW: Thank you for helping me with that I should know that quite well.
RP: Yeah.
DW: And of course I met my wife down, Kathleen down —
RP: Oh right. So that’s why you’ve got memories of Wales then.
DW: We’ve been back and forward. She died about eight years ago now.
RP: But it must have been interesting when Scotland played Wales at rugby then.
DW: Absolutely. But there was an agreement in the family that, you know, when Wales was playing anybody else England or whatever it was I’d vote for Wales and likewise Kathleen would vote for Scotland if in fact it wasn’t playing Wales. And so on.
RP: That’s an amicable solution.
DW: Absolutely. Now we, we, in fact we’ve been married, or would have been married seventy years this year.
RP: Goodness me.
DW: But she died a bit sooner.
RP: So was she in the forces then? What was she?
DW: She was an ATS.
RP: Oh right.
DW: I’ve got a picture of her there somewhere.
RP: Ok.
DW: ATS. But just as a normal private, didn’t do anything special. So, let’s see, that was that. I’m still on score or should I be talking about —
RP: You were at St Athan, you were in St Athan.
DW: St Athan.
RP: You’d finished your training, where did you go to from St Athan and when you’d finished training in Wales?
DW: From there I went up north to East Moor I think it was and then we were allocated of course, in due course.
RP: Yes.
DW: To a crew. I say allocated but what happened, once you were ready to go in, to join a crew and go into Bomber Command and fly we all met in a big hall.
RP: So this was, did you go to an Operational Training Unit before that then? An OTU?
DW: An Operational Training Unit would go, we’d go to that after we’d joined a crew.
RP: Oh right. So you joined a crew first, I see, yeah.
DW: I think so, yeah.
RP: Yeah.
DW: I’m sure we did.
RP: Yes, Yeah.
DW: Anyway, we centred around this big hall looking for a crew and which was rather difficult, you’re looking around and looking around but then a group of four came and approached me and somebody said, ‘You’re a Scotsman.’ I said, ‘Yes.’ ‘Right, We’re happy to have a Scotsman in our crew, would you like to join us?’
RP: Oh, that was nice.
DW: So I looked at them and well, rather quickly I said, ‘Yes. Sure’ and that was it.
RP: This was, were they Canadians?
DW: Canadian.
RP: Was it a Canadian squadron?
DW: It was a Canadian squadron.
RP: And what number was that?
DW: 432.
RP: That’s four, so that was mostly Canadian aircrew with a —
DW: Practically so. They didn’t have any engineers.
RP: Oh right.
DW: So of course that’s why we were allocated.
RP: I see, yeah.
DW: Allocated because I don’t suppose they, whoever did it decided they had to find engineers for them so that was that. Then we did some more training obviously at, well it was just north of York and before we went on to actual —
RP: So —
DW: Operations.
RP: Before, from joining a squadron how long was it before your first operation? How much training did they give you?
DW: Quite a bit. The training of course was a whole year and part of that and I think probably about five or six weeks when you got to know the, your crew.
RP: What aircraft was this you were flying?
DW: This was, I flew with a Halifax.
RP: Ok.
DW: A Halifax 3 or a Halifax 5 as it happened. These had the radial engines and that happened to be what I liked rather than the inline as it happened. Lancaster's were more popular but in fact I liked the idea of radial engines and there it was. So we joined 432 Squadron as Number 6 Wing up north and just beyond York and we did our tour from there.
RP: So what was your first operation then? Can you remember that?
DW: First operation. Yes. Was [pause] I’m desperately trying to think which one it was now. I know where it was but [pause] sorry about that. You don’t mind if I hesitate.
[recording paused]
RP: Ok David. So, your first operation was to where, sorry?
DW: To Caen in France.
RP: And that was on D-Day.
DW: And that was on D-Day.
RP: So did you just —
DW: The night, well the night of the 6th of June 1944.
RP: Yeah. So —
DW: And of course D-Day was that morning.
RP: Yes, yeah. So you were part of the D-Day attack.
DW: Yes indeed.
RP: Right. Did you know? Did you know —
DW: No.
RP: It was sort of D-Day as such.
DW: No, no.
RP: You didn’t, oh right.
DW: No, not then.
RP: No.
DW: But of course coming back over The Channel here we saw this mammoth —
RP: The mammoth fleet. Yes, so you realised something was on, yeah.
DW: Big, big ships and all the rest of it, so at that particular point the whole crew saw this and — it must be D-Day [laughs]
RP: So you were able to see them yourself, yeah, you had a look and sort of saw the ships. It must have been an amazing sight.
DW: It was an amazing sigh , it was. We saw an armada of battleships, destroyers and landing craft heading for the beaches of France. Of course we had not been told it was D-Day but, which was still a secret but in fact the pictures made it crystal clear as to exactly what —
RP: Yes exactly.
DW: Yeah and I must say in our hearts, I’ve got a wee note here, in our hearts we prayed for those brave soldiers, many of whom would not see the end of that day.
RP: Of course, yes.
DW: Which is true.
RP: So that was the first one. Can you remember any other particular sorties for any reason? Where do you think you suffered the most flak that you were flying over on one of your missions? Can you remember that?
DW: Well the longest journey we did was the one I told you about to [pause] What did we say to?
RP: Stuttgart.
DW: Stuttgart.
RP: That’s a distance. That’s a fair.
DW: That’s a long trek.
RP: A long trek.
DW: About nine or ten hours.
RP: Good grief. That is a long time isn’t it?
DW: A long journey. So that was a long that was probably the one that figures most in my mind because it was a difficult one. We had more, well, guns firing at us on route and so forth. So that was on D-Day. Yeah and of course we had then, on the way back, saw the Normandy landings and then we knew it was D-Day. We hadn’t known that before.
RP: Gosh. That’s an historic moment isn’t it?
DW: Very much so.
RP: So you carried on with more, more sorties.
DW: Yeah.
RP: I just wondered, on the D-Day one is your first, in your first one as you climbed into the aircraft were you thinking, crossing yourself or thinking here we go, or praying? Were you worried or apprehensive or it was just something you had to do?
DW: You were conscious that you were going in to, you could be going into a lot of trouble but, and we were conscious of that but nonetheless we seemed to be fired up to go there, although we were very conscious of the dangers.
RP: Yes.
DW: That we might have but certainly, we didn’t sit around and just worry, worry, worry, it wasn’t like that.
RP: It was just, it was the job you had to do basically.
DW: Yeah.
RP: That’s how you approached it.
DW: The only time that there were comments was during the initial [pause] well the initial discussion with the senior people telling us where we were going and then of course they didn’t tell you they just took a screen off the map.
RP: Right.
DW: And there were either sighs of horror or —
RP: Yeah. And then you find out where it was.
DW: Where you were going and as I say the first one we had was to Caen which wasn’t bad.
RP: But I noticed that obviously from some of your, the sorties, some of them obviously to Germany, to Hamburg and other places but also you were doing a lot of bombing on the French ports weren’t you?
DW: Yes.
RP: Because that was obviously to stop the German shipping I suppose.
DW: Absolutely.
RP: You did one to St Malo I see there and Brest, Brest I think was where the submarine pens were. Was that the mission?
DW: That is right.
RP: The mission was to bomb the submarine pens, you think?
DW: Yeah, quite correct.
RP: Was that successful? I think that was quite successful. I don’t know which squadron but I think they did eventually wreck them didn’t they?
DW: I think so but of course we don’t, we didn’t always know about the total result.
RP: No you just did it.
DW: Of what we were doing.
RP: Yeah, course.
DW: And our interest of course was basically what we were doing ourselves.
RP: Yes, yes.
DW: And it might have taken some time for the intelligence people to get to us and say what had happened. So that was D-Day and —
RP: So with your Canadian crew then was it a good, a good bonding with them?
DW: Oh yes, very good.
RP: Very friendly.
DW: Very good.
RP: And how did you operate with ground crew then? Were ground crew allocated to you or did it-
DW: No, we had two ground crew.
RP: Right.
DW: That were allocated to us throughout.
RP: Oh right.
DW: And whatever time of the day or night we went, these two ground crew were there.
RP: So they were part of your team as such.
DW: Absolutely.
RP: So there was a lot of camaraderie you think?
DW: Very much so.
RP: Canadians.
DW: In fact, somewhere or other I probably have some pictures of them because they were part of the —
RP: Yeah.
DW: You know we saw them as part of our group.
RP: In serviceability terms was the Halifax a good aeroplane?
DW: Well, we thought so.
RP: You never had—
DW: That was our allocation mark you but —
RP: Can you ever remember having to cancel a sortie because your aircraft —
DW: Sorry?
RP: Can you ever remember cancelling a sortie because your aircraft was not ready?
DW: I think that only happened on one, one occasion.
RP: Well that’s a pretty good rating really isn’t it?
DW: Yes we found the aircraft was very good. We had no, no problems with it and people said, well Lancaster's are better and we might say that’s a lot of nonsense.
RP: There would always be that sort of us and them wouldn’t it? Yeah.
DW: Yeah. And of course, one of the reasons that I favoured a Halifax is because it had radial engines. I seemed to be more comfortable with that,
RP: Yeah.
DW: During our training.
RP: Which is fine.
DW: Rather than the inline.
RP: Yes.
DW: And so, it was as simple as that.
RP: So, when they, when you were actually training, is it, are you doing circuits and bumps or going on bombing ranges? Or, how do you — what are you training?
DW: Well you are actually doing both but mainly circuits and bumps. That was your initial training, you got the crew and you had to join up with them but they had already joined up and the flight engineer actually was —
RP: Right.
DW: The last guy to be hauled up and it was just a big hall and people were moving around, looking —
RP: Yeah.
DW: For the rest of a crew.
RP: So, it’s just becoming familiar with the aircraft you were training once —
DW: Yeah.
RP: So once they think that — were you ever assessed then? Was somebody assessing the pilot?
DW: I’m sure the pilot was assessed. [unclear]
RP: Yeah. And when they felt you were ready to go.
DW: The, they had already gone all the crew bar a flight engineer.
RP: Yeah.
DW: And they had already gone through some training.
RP: Yeah.
DW: And the pilot of course had gone training on other aircraft too.
RP: Of course. I mean we all, I think we all know the tremendous losses that Bomber Command took.
DW: Yeah.
RP: Were there many on your squadron? Did you lose many?
DW: Oh yes we lost some but of course, you didn’t [pause] if you lost a friend who might have been there that was hard going but people, I mean we lost about fifty percent of our —
RP: God.
DW: Off the squadron.
RP: So a lot of people you’d made friends with.
DW: And also some were prisoners of war.
RP: Yes.
DW: Had to bale out and so forth, a whole mixture.
RP: But I mean to come to the end of your time, your tour, it’s quite unusual really isn’t it? A lot of people didn’t.
DW: Absolutely.
RP: Yeah. So you were, you were blessed in that way.
DW: Blessed and I recognise, pretty lucky.
RP: Fate, fate.
DW: Fate.
RP: Well that’s what it’s about, fate. Do you ever, have you been in touch since then with any of your crew at all?
DW: Well, I kept in touch with a couple of them. One was the navigator and the pilot but of course they went back home and retired in Canada.
RP: Yes.
DW: Whilst I went out to the Far East to start flying out there but in the event the atom bomb was dropped five days after I got to Bombay.
RP: Right.
DW: And that was the end of it.
RP: So where, were you heading for an Indian airfield? Yeah?
DW: We went to Bombay to begin with.
RP: Oh right. Yeah.
DW: And then you were allocated to another airfield.
RP: So, what was the intention? That you should fly? What aircraft would you have flown if, if it had continued?
DW: I suppose it would be a Halifax.
RP: Still a Halifax. Yeah.
DW: But in fact I really didn’t do any flying because the war finished and instead of that I was already commissioned. I was allocated to a wing or a squadron and as adjutant. So I was an adjutant at one time and subsequently I went on to a wing job.
RP: This is in India.
DW: In India, well in Ceylon, Sri Lanka by then.
RP: Oh, so what, what was the RAF station in Ceylon where you were actually based?
DW: Trincomalee.
RP: Oh right, that’s up in the north east.
DW: Yeah.
RP: Yeah, yeah.
DW: On the coast, yeah, so we did a bit of flying.
RP: Very nice too. Were they, were there Flying Boats there?
DW: There were Flying Boats there yeah because we were right on the coast.
RP: Yeah, it’s right on the coast isn’t it? Yeah and so in Ceylon you, your flying career over you became an administrator.
DW: Yeah.
RP: What work did you work in Ceylon then? Could you tell us a little about that?
DW: Well, by then I was, well, flying officer but in fact I was then allocated to HQ Ceylon.
RP: Right.
DW: Which was the headquarters.
RP: And where was that?
DW: HQ, that was in, well Colombo to begin with.
RP: Right.
DW: But in fact we moved up to a smaller place in [unclear] I can’t remember now, I’ve got it somewhere.
RP: Right. That’s ok.
DW: But we moved about a wee bit.
RP: Right, yeah.
DW: As a headquarters. So I stayed in headquarters as HC, HQ as they called it and I was then running courts martial, courts and crime.
RP: Yeah.
DW: And the like.
RP: So you were making sure the criminals were caught. Well what was the most serious offence that you can remember for courts martial? What sort of offence?
DW: Well nobody, nobody had been killed.
RP: No.
DW: But there were certainly serious offences of people bashing each other up.
RP: Right.
DW: On occasion, not too many, not too many.
RP: Yeah, were these normally airmen or officers or —
DW: Normally airmen.
RP: The worker's, ok [laughs]
DW: The workers.
RP: Right.
DW: Oh, we did have a little trouble with some of the —
RP: Yeah.
DW: Officers but —
RP: Do you think this was just high spirits?
DW: Probably a bit more.
RP: High spirits or just downright bad behaviour then?
DW: I think bad behaviour was quite common.
RP: Yeah, right, that’s a shame.
DW: And I suppose the feeling that the war is finished in Europe, let’s get home.
RP: Yeah, was there a delay in repatriation from the Far East do you think?
DW: Well it took me about two years to get away from there. That depended on your [pause] the number of your let out and I think I had a number of twenty two.
RP: Right.
DW: So it went on a bit.
RP: So you were in a sort of, on a waiting list that was sort of slowly.
DW: You were on a list.
RP: Slowly going up.
DW: As soon as your group, twenty two I think was mine.
RP: And when you reached the top you went?
DW: Yeah.
RP: If I could just go back a little bit. I think when you started flying you were NCO aircrew. Yes?
DW: Yes.
RP: So at what point, do they decide to commission you or do you decide you wanted to be commissioned? Or is it just one of those things that happened?
DW: I think it’s one of the things that happened but indeed I suppose some of us thought it would be nice to be officers and in fact that happened after I was finished flying because I was still part of, Sergeant.
RP: Yes.
DW: And the others were, or the pilot was commissioned.
RP: Yes, I noticed in your logbook.
DW: Later on.
RP: He was NCO aircrew initially wasn’t he?
DW: Yeah, yeah, we were all NCOs.
RP: Yeah.
DW: And I was, they were flight Sergeants.
RP: Yeah.
DW: I was just a Sergeant.
RP: Oh right.
DW: At that time.
RP: So your commission came as you moved to Ceylon really then? Yes? Just before?
DW: No, before that.
RP: Just before that.
DW: And then, then I was posted to Ceylon.
RP: Ok.
DW: As a, well probably a flying officer by then.
RP: Right, so your, your time in Ceylon is over. How did you get back to England then? Did you fly or did you have to sail back?
DW: No, by boat.
RP: Oh my goodness that’s, that’s a fair trip then.
DW: And quite, well I was there for about a couple of years and in HQ Ceylon as I say it, the Headquarters and then court martial and courts of enquiry and things like that.
RP: I suppose the fact that you were sailing back in what 1947 ’48?
DW: Yeah.
RP: At least you know there are no U-boats out there.
DW: Well, that’s very true.
RP: So where did you dock when you came back then? Were you docking?
DW: I think it was Liverpool.
RP: So from Liverpool where did they send you then? Or by this time were you actually demobbed by then?
DW: We were getting demobbed.
RP: Yeah.
DW: And I think I went back to York somewhere.
RP: Oh you went back to East Moor.
DW: And then I finished off of course immediately back home in Edinburgh.
RP: So you went, so from, you were demobbed in Yorkshire, and — so what sort of provision did the RAF or the government make for your civilian career? Did they help you at all?
DW: Yes, indeed, very much so and again that depended on, well frankly your commission or whatever it was and I was flight lieutenant by then. So we, we had a two year course in, in Edinburgh. Well it was, it is now a university but at that time it was a, well a top school and I think I had two years there altogether and then subsequently from there you had to join a company if that’s what you wanted to do, say in engineering although I wasn’t an engineer I always worked in an engineering company as an accountant. I finished training for that. That was my profession.
RP: Right.
DW: And we, I guess we were posted up in to Scotland for two years having to learn some of the ropes of management.
RP: Yeah.
DW: And so forth and so on. So that was pretty good too, good training.
RP: So by this time, had you married by this time? Were you married by then?
DW: We married, we married quite soon.
RP: Yeah.
DW: Because, in fact we were married. I was, well Kathleen would have been nineteen when she married.
RP: Right.
DW: And I was twenty one.
RP: So you were married.
DW: [unclear] For some time.
RP: Just as the war ended then about that time.
DW: Yes.
RP: Oh.
DW: It had ended.
RP: So she was there when you moved back to Edinburgh. Was she with you in Ceylon? Or did she have to stay here?
DW: No, no.
RP: She had to stay behind.
DW: Ahum.
RP: So that was a long separation then.
DW: A long separation but I remember the first time I saw Kathleen was, she was on the dance floor of the [pause] yeah the time I was down in Wales.
RP: Oh yes. Yeah.
DW: And her big sister, elder sister could only be, go to dancing at the officer’s mess if she had her sister with her.
RP: Right.
DW: Kathleen was a wee bit young for that but I must say that I really made up my mind when I saw this charming lady dancing.
RP: Yeah.
DW: With somebody else, around, I thought that looks like someone I would like to meet which I did.
RP: Yeah.
DW: And in fact I got to know her then.
RP: Yeah. So where were you married? Where? Were you married in Wales?
DW: In Wales yeah, in Cowbridge.
RP: Right.
DW: Small, small town.
RP: So when you arrived back for demob did you get to see Kathleen quite quickly? When you’d been demobbed?
DW: Oh yes. Yes we had, she came up, and then, well before then of course we had well we were demobbed and so forth but we both went up to stay in Edinburgh with my parents for a time and then subsequently I went on this government scheme and finished up in, in Fife or in yeah, in Fife.
[recording paused]
RP: So, thinking about the civilian life then you sort of completely changed away from what you had been doing in the RAF.
DW: Yeah.
RP: And so where did that take you after you’d finished your sort of courses? Engineering and accounting. Where did you end up?
DW: Well I became a chartered secretary.
RP: Right.
DW: Company secretary and that was the channel I went in to for one reason or the other and it depended sometime on how much training you then had to do. I mean, I did think about becoming a chartered accountant but there it was. There were certain difficulties in terms of time about that. So I became a chartered secretary and then of course that meant I had more training in Scotland and became a chartered secretary in due course. Then of course I finished up most of the time as, as an MD.
RP: So who did you work for? What was the company?
DW: It was a company which became part of the quite well known group but it was — oh dear. I’m terrible aren’t I?
RP: Oh no, no.
DW: You forget these things.
RP: Don’t worry it was a long time ago.
DW: It was. I know them very well.
RP: I think you mentioned earlier when we were talking, about Champion.
DW: Champion. Champion were, well it wasn’t Champion there.
RP: It was the initial group and then they became amalgamated.
DW: They amalgamated and my company went, which was in Scotland and Wales, sorry, not in Wales, in Fife.
RP: Right.
DW: In Alloa, Clackmannanshire, so, and I stayed with them becoming Managing Director of that.
RP: So, there you are in Clackmannanshire and how do we end up here in Christchurch then? All the way from Alloa, it’s a long way from Alloa.
DW: That was said before. Well that was because before I got into Champion I had to get a job and one job that was offered to me which was very attractive was one down in the south coast.
RP: Oh right.
DW: And that became part of Champion.
RP: I see.
DW: It was taken over by Champion.
RP: So when did you move to Christchurch then? When did you come to the south coast? How long have you been down here?
DW: I’ve been down here a large number of years.
RP: Gosh.
DW: We came down in [pause] when did we come down? Sorry about some of this. I’m not sure I have anything.
RP: No, no, it’s ok. I was just wondering because you’ve been here, obviously a few years after you qualified then.
DW: Oh yes, yes.
RP: So it’s a long time.
DW: Absolutely.
RP: So, you could call yourself a citizen of Christchurch.
DW: I think so.
RP: If you look back to your RAF days David, what would you say would be your outstanding memories of your RAF career? If someone says, ‘What did the RAF do for you?’ What would you say? What was the memory you have of your time?
DW: Well the memory I have of my RAF career was of course bombing and flying with aircraft chasing after you and so forth.
RP: Did you ever come —
DW: That’s the memory I have.
RP: Yeah. Did you ever come under, did you come under attack very often?
DW: Oh yes, sometimes by other aircraft, sometimes we lost an engine, well, we have done that more than once.
RP: Yeah and this is where you, your job becomes more important then. Yes?
DW: Yes, that’s true.
RP: I take it when you lose an engine you have to balance them all out for the power do you?
DW: Yes indeed.
RP: And to make sure you keep, keep it level.
DW: You have to know which engine is gone of course and so on.
RP: Yes, yes and in terms of being attacked by another aircraft then was the Halifax manoeuvrable in that sense to avoid?
DW: Yes, quite, quite manoeuvrable but of course if you were in a group it was sometimes difficult because your neighbours were your own crews.
RP: Yes.
DW: But it tended, it tended to get lost in that because you know people were keeping you away from each other in case there was an accident which there were, particularly initially when, when you first started off.
RP: Well yes, I think you have to be very careful but was it, did it have enough armament, the Halifax, to defend itself?
DW: I think it did very well, you had a front gunner.
RP: Yeah.
DW: And, sorry a rear gunner and an upper gunner.
RP: Yeah.
DW: The front gunner was, there was a gun available but that was usually a position taken over by the chap who was going to guide us to drop the bombs.
RP: The bomb aimer. So the bomb aimer was the front gunner basically yeah?
DW: Yeah.
RP: So he had a sort of dual role, he’d be on the guns and when you were over the target —
DW: Yeah.
RP: He would —
DW: He would be busy directing the pilot just exactly where he should be going.
RP: So he becomes the most important man on the aircraft at that point then.
DW: Could be, there were seven people in the aircraft.
RP: Yeah.
DW: Pilot, navigator, bomb aimer, flight engineer.
RP: Yeah.
DW: How many’s that? That’s four.
RP: And you’ve got three gunners. You got —
DW: We had two gunners.
RP: Did you have the co-pilot then? Or just the one?
DW: No. In fact, there was a co-pilot but when they then put flight engineers into it the flight engineer then hopefully became the co-pilot.
RP: Oh right, I see.
DW: And sometimes one of the other crew, particularly the bomb aimer maybe had been trained in some way in flying an aeroplane.
RP: Yeah.
DW: But in fact if, if our pilot, Bob, wanted a break he just let me fly.
RP: Oh right.
DW: So I did a bit of flying too.
RP: In the sense of keeping it level on the trim and making sure it was ok, yeah?
DW: Yeah, yeah.
RP: But I take it the arrangement was that RAF tended to do night bombing. So, did you ever do daylight bombing?
DW: I’ve done some but it was mainly night.
RP: Yeah because obviously daylight you’re even more of a target I would imagine.
DW: Sure but having said that it didn’t take the Germans too long to be able to fire their guns up at a stream of bombers —
RP: That’s right.
DW: Going over.
RP: Yes, although of course I suppose as 1945 came around they were retreating further and further back so they didn’t have quite so many aircraft I guess or did you find there was no change?
DW: The Germans?
RP: Yeah, towards the end of the war.
DW: Yeah.
RP: Do you think there was less attacks in sort of, say, February, March of ‘45? Did you feel —
DW: I don’t think I was flying in ’45.
RP: Right. You’d finished before then.
DW: Finished before then.
RP: After, after the D-Day.
DW: 1944.
RP: So you had gone to Ceylon so, yeah. That’s amazing, thank you for that. It’s been a pleasure to talk to you David. I appreciate these memories. It’s been
DW: [unclear]
RP: It’s been a privilege to hear you tell me all about your stories. Thank you for inviting me. Thank you.
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 David Wilkie
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Rod Pickles
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-11-02
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.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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AWilkieD161102, PWilkieD1601
Format
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00:35:06 audio recording
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Canadian Air Force
Description
An account of the resource
David Wilkie was born in Edinburgh. He volunteered for the RAF and began training as a flight engineer. While training at St Athan he met his future wife, Kathleen. He was posted to 432 Squadron with a Canadian crew. He witnessed the gathering of the armada sailing towards the beaches of Normandy on D-Day. After his tour he was posted to Ceylon as an administrator dealing with court martial cases.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Julie Williams
Yvonne Walker
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
France
Great Britain
India
Sri Lanka
Atlantic Ocean--Bay of Biscay
England--Liverpool
England--Yorkshire
France--Brest
France--Caen
France--Saint-Malo
Germany--Stuttgart
India--Mumbai
Scotland--Edinburgh
Scotland--Fife
Sri Lanka--Colombo
Wales--Vale of Glamorgan
Germany
England--Lancashire
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944
432 Squadron
aircrew
bombing
crewing up
flight engineer
Halifax
military discipline
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
RAF East Moor
RAF St Athan
training
-
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2180/38308/S102SqnRAF19170809v10004-0002.2.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
102 Squadron Collection
Description
An account of the resource
Thirty-one items.
The collection concerns material from the 102 Squadron Association and contains part of a Tee Emm magazine, documents, photographs, accounts of Ceylonese in the RAF, a biography, poems, a log book, cartoons, intelligence and operational reports, an operations order and an account by a United States Army Air Force officers secret trip to Great Britain to arrange facilities for American forces.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Harry Bartlett and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2019-05-23
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
102 Squadron Association
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
Re the points you raise in paras 1 2 & 3 of your letter, here are my Comments:
I was in the [deleted] 3 [/deleted]rd batch of Ceylonese volunteers to the R A F under the Pilot/Navigator/Bombadier [sic] scheme. This recruitment was probably more streamlined than the previous two batches : viz an ad. in the local papers calling for volunteers with the necessary physical attributes and the [indecipherable word] Matriculation or equivalent pass.
After medical examinations and interviews before a board of three, eleven of us were chosen for this P/N/B training. We were all Matriculate with the exception of Dixon Kotalawala who with much less than the Matric was chosen, doubtless due to the influence of his uncle John Kotalawala who was a member of the selection Board. The others [sic] members of the Board were, D.S. Senanayake and a high ranking RAF officer.
The questions asked by the Board were mostly on Academic and Sports qualifications. However, I recollect a question leveled [sic] at me by John Kotalawala re my previous employment as a Sub Inspector of Police. He asked me whether I resigned or was sacked. I think I scored a good mark with the Board by pointing out that my discharge [inserted] certificate [/inserted] which was on their table, bore a remark from my Supdt. Sydney De Zoysa that my “resignation was a loss to the Police Force”.
Sportswise the 3rd batch volunteers had [inserted] done [/inserted] well: Dixon Kotalawala was a champion inter-schools boxer. C.H.S. Amarasekera was one of the top long distance runners in Ceylon. George Ferdinand was an Inter-schools champion relay runner. Dion Bennett was a Thomian champion swimmer. I was police boxer and Rugby player. Kingsley Werkmeister was a Thomian crickter [sic]. Royle Jansen was a Benedectine soccer player and so was Paramanathan from a Jaffna College. Clement Andrews, an Antonian soccer player.
We eleven trainees commenced our local Flying Training at Govt. expens in [underlined] Feb 1942 [/underlined]. This was done at the Aero Club at Ratmalana under F/Lt Duncanson and Flying Instructor Booth. All eleven Trainees were given abinito [sic] training up to solo standard on Tiger Moth aircraft. To enforce Military discipline and Training we took our oaths as Privates in the Ceylon Light Infantry. In lieu of Khaki uniforms, we wore civilian clothes with a CLI arm band. Sgt Tillekeratne was assigned to us. We were housed in tents near the airfield and the Sgt conducted our drill, arms training and rifle firing practise, etc, when we were not occupied with flying training. While under canvas, we experienced a couple of Jap air raids, and took to the rubber trees with our .303 rifles to fire at low flying Jap fighters.
[page break]
After six months of Flying and military training, we were issued [inserted] In [underlined] Au[missing letter/s] [/underlined] [/inserted] with passports. I reckon, the idea being to travel as civilians, [deleted] in [/deleted] case we fell into enemy hands. The first part of the journey was by train [inserted] to Talaimannar [/inserted] and ferry, and train to Bombay. We were about a week in Bombay, housed in a flat and then shipped off to the U.K. (I cant recollect the name of the troop ship).
Batchmates Mawalagedera and Ferdinand were detained due to illness and fol[missing letters]wed on a later ship. Our ship sailed off the Cape and way out into the North and west Atlantic into port Southampton in early [underlined] Nov. 1942 [/underlined]. The entire journey took two months – we embarked from Bombay in [underlined] Sept. 1942 [/underlined]. We stopped for a few days at an east African port and then at Durban for a few more where we were welcomed and loked [sic] after by an English South African Committee who had been briefed of our arrival. While sailing in the Atlantic, our [missing words] was trained [inserted] in [/inserted] and took turns in manning a heavy machine gun for possible use against enemy aircraft attack.
On the [underlined] 19th Nov. ’42 [/underlined] we enlisted at Euston as [underlined] AC2 [/underlined]. My [underlined] Airman No. 1811843 [/underlined] Our batch was then broken up and posted to diverse [underlined] Initial Training Wings [/underlined] C.H.S Amarasekera, Dion Bennett, Dixon Kotalawala and I commenced our ITW (Ground School training) at fighter station at Kenley in Surrey. After successfully completing this training, we were promoted to [underlined] Leading Aircraftmen (LAC) [/underlined]. After this, we were separated once again and shipped off to Canada [indecipherable letters] [underlined] Elementary Flying Training [/underlined]. My EFTS was at Windsor Mills in Quebec on Tig Moths. After successful flying and Ground School, I was posted to Service Flying Training School on Harvard aircraft. After about 40 hrs training on this aircraft, I had a difference of opinion with my instructor and agreed transfer to Navigator/Bombadier [sic] training at North Battleford in Sasketchwan [sic] On successful completion of this course, I received my wings as [underlined] Bombadier/[missing word] [/underlined] and was Commissioned as [underlined] Pilot Officer [/underlined] in [underlined] Nov.’44 (Officer No. 188121) [/underlined]. I re[missing letters] to the U.K. and was posted to Harrowgate [sic] in Yorkshire. From there I was transfered [sic] to [underlined] Transport Command [/underlined] to Staging Post, Jodpur, Rajputana, India as [underlined] Navigation Briefing Officer [/underlined] in [underlined] Feb ’45 [/underlined]. After a few months here, I obtai[missing letters] a transfer to Staging Post Ratmalana as NBO. and with RAF opening Katanaya as a Staging Post, transfered [sic] there [inserted] as Flying Officer [/inserted] and served there until [underlined] May ’47 [/underlined] when I requested and obtained a local release.
Here are some particulars of my batch:
[inserted] 1. [/inserted] [underlined] P.B. Mawalagedera [/underlined]. (Pilot) after war service flew as Line and Chief Pil[missing letters] and Operations Manager in Air Ceylon. Retired. resident in S.L. Address: 31/1 Attidiya Rd, Ratmalana.
[inserted] 2. [/inserted] [underlined] G.E.L. Ferdinand [/underlined]. (Pilot) after war service, served as Line and Chief [missing word] and Operations Manager, Air Lanka. (Deceased)
[indecipherable words]
[page break]
and then in Air Ceylon as Ground Instructor/Navigator/Link Instructor and later as Director Airports Authority and finally as Suptd. Civil Aviation Training Centre, Ratmalana.
[inserted] 4. [/inserted] [underlined] R.Jansen [/underlined]. (Aircraft Maintenance) after war service, worked in the U.K. as Aircraft maintenance Engineer, and then worked for a few years as an Engineer in Air Lanka. (Deceased)
[inserted] 5. [/inserted] [underlined] D. Kotalawala [/underlined]. (Trainee Pilot, medical release) flew as pilot on DC 3 aircraft in Air Ceylon for a few years and then functioned as Asst. Direct of Civil Aviation. Last known to reside in the U.K.
[inserted] 6. [/inserted] [underlined] D. Bennett [/underlined] (Pilot) after war service flew in command in an Indian airli[missing letters] and later in Air Ceylon on D C 3 and then as Capt. on Air Pacfic. [sic] Resident in Fiji. Address: [censored]
[inserted] 7. [/inserted] [underlined] H. Asserappa [/underlined]. (Pilot) after war service flew in an Indian airline as [missing word] Was residing in Negombo . .
[inserted] 8. [/inserted] [underlined] C.H.S. Amarasekera [/underlined]. (Pilot) after war service flew in an Indian airline, and then as Chief Flying Instructor, Air Academy and then was Director of Civil Aviation, S.L. for a few years. (Deceased)
[inserted] 9. [/inserted] [underlined] K. Werkmeister [/underlined]. (Aircraft Maintenance) after war service, lived in Perth Australia. (Deceased)
[inserted] 10. [/inserted] [underlined] C. Andrews [/underlined]. (Meterology) [sic] after war service worked as [indecipherable words] in S.L. Residing in Australia. Address: [censored]
[inserted] 11. [/inserted] [underlined] Paramanathan [/underlined]. [indecipherable words] shortly after obtaining ‘wings’ died in aircraft [missing letters]ent.
Re your other Queries: I have not heard of Stu Levell.
Re the Jacotine who served in WWI, M.R. de Silva would be able to give so[missing letters] information, also he would inform you of another Jacotine who was in the batch and made it to be a spitfire pilot to be killed in a raid over Ger[missing letters]
M.R. de S. said he would be writing to you after the Christmas rush.
Another 2nd batch spitfire pilot is R. Sielman who resides in the U.K
His Address: [censored]
The 2nd batch also included F/O Brohier who passed out as Navigator
We served together at Katunayake during my last year of service. His Ad[missing letters] [censored] Australia.
I have spoken to Lt. Col. C. Fernando who informs me that Maj. Gen Muttukumaru is alive and resident in Queensland (Australia)
I also met a Mr B. Claasen. who had war service in Singapore, and [missing word] be able to give you much information. His Address: [censored] Australia.
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
Letter concerning third batch of Ceylonese joining the RAF
Description
An account of the resource
Author (probably Roy J de Niese) gives some information on recruitment and training of Ceylonese volunteers for the RAF. Includes his recruitment and initial training in Ceylon, travel to Great Britain, enlistment, elementary flying training and postings. Continues with information on individuals in his batch and further information on other Ceylonese.
Creator
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Roy J de Niese
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942-02
1942-09
1942-11-19
1944-11
1945-02
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Sri Lanka
Sri Lanka--Ratmalana
Great Britain
England--London
England--Surrey
Canada
Ontario
Saskatchewan--North Battleford
England--Yorkshire
England--Harrogate
Fiji
Fiji--Nadi
Australia
Saskatchewan
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. Transport Command
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Text. Personal research
Format
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Three typewritten sheets
Identifier
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S102SqnRAF19170809v10004
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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Paul Ross
aircrew
Asian heritage
C-47
ground personnel
Harvard
navigator
pilot
RAF Kenley
recruitment
Tiger Moth
training
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/773/9293/PWatkinsJ1801.2.jpg
23a737b72e514fe88268be4fdbef9f76
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/773/9293/AWatkinsJ180802.2.mp3
7707459bd57b1cac29e841380e02be32
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
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Watkins, Snogger
John Watkins
J Watkins
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with John Watkins (b. 1924, 1624229 Royal Air Force). Initially a ground personnel wireless operator he volunteered and flew operations as a wireless operator with 230, 240 and 205 Squadrons.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2018-08-02
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.
Identifier
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Watkins, J
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
SP: So, this is Susanne Pescott, and I’m interviewing Warrant Officer John Watkins who was a wireless op and air gunner for Bomber Command and Coastal Command. I’m interviewing today for the International Bomber Command Centre’s Digital Archive. We’re at John’s home, who was referred to as Jack during the war and it’s today, the 2nd of August 2018. So, first of all, thank you John for agreeing to be interviewed today.
JW: Quite happy to do so.
SP: So, John do you want to tell me about what you did before you joined up? Before the war.
JW: Yes. Well, before I was in retail. Men’s retail in Rotherham. In 1938 or ’9, the Air Training Corps was formed in Rotherham, 218 Squadron with librarian, Chief Librarian Broadhead I think they called him who was made CO. And there was about eighteen of us with a little Air Training Corps badge and so that’s when the 218 Air Training Corps Squadron was formed. Just after that we all got uniforms. Now, that was a very proud moment because we had the Church Parade and I’ve still got a photograph of that where there’s the commanding officer is first and I, being tall was just behind him. We were really proud to be the beginning of 218 Cadet force, RAF Cadet force in Rotherham. From, at that particular time it was 19’, 19’, oh ‘39, ’38, ’38, ’39. It was when the Rotherham and Sheffield Blitz was on. That means when the Germans were really flattening big buildings and well, all that went through in the Blitz and I at that time was only seventeen or eighteen but I was a fire watcher. So, if any of the, any of the fire bombs dropped we had a bucket of sand. We had to put it on it and shovel them away. It was scary to do that. Very, very scary. But I joined this Air Training Corps and that’s where I, because before this I used to be making model aeroplanes and I was very interested in flying right from the beginning. And so, when they said, ‘Do you want to join?’ I thought, ‘Right. I’ll go for interview.’ And that would be 1940, I would think I joined in I had to wait a while after they consider everything but I wanted to be in aircrew and very pleased to learn Morse and arms drill, marching and all the rest of it. So I was quite experienced by the time I did get, joined in in the RAF in 1942. Do you want any more now? So, I’ll cut it from there.
[recording paused]
I suppose I’d better, just a minute I’d better start off with, they called all the aircrew up to Blackpool to do their initial training. Blackpool saw all the, all the boarding houses were filled with trainee aircrew. So that’s where I first did the marching and the learning of, well, I’d already started learning Morse because I knew I wanted to be a wireless operator air gunner. Anyhow, so I first went to Recruitment Centre at Cardington, February 26th 1942. And then from there I went to Padgate at Blackpool. That would be August. We had to wait. They didn’t call me straight away. My father, I used to say, ‘Has my papers come yet? Has my papers?’ But I went to Padgate in August the 14th 1942. Then I went to the Signals School at Yatesbury in Wiltshire. That was in December 1942. That’s where I first started. It was quite easy there because as I say I could read Morse before I went there but then from there this is when I first went to Number 5 Group, Grantham, Lincolnshire which was Bomber Command, and it was the Headquarters of 617. Number 5 Group. This was in June the 24th 1943. That’s when the, that’s when the raid was on and that’s when I first met 617 Squadron and I said, ‘Well, what is, what’s the first job?’ And the first, as near as I can remember the first job was with two senior wireless operators that had been in the Force some time and regarding the raid, the Dambuster raid. And that was April, in May 1943. Now then, I asked what my first job was at number 5 Group, Grantham and they said, well when, on this raid they will be flying with, you know the Dambusters raid. But number 5 Group they don’t want the aircraft to contact 5 Group at Grantham, because if they did, if they were attacked while they were on this raid and they contacted 5 Group they’d send some bomber and just flatten the Headquarters of 5 Group. So, they said we want you to, three of us all together. Two senior ones and me as a junior, and you had to take radio receivers. The crews had been instructed to contact us which was in the middle of a field between, between Scampton and Grantham, and we had this, we had these receivers and if they got into trouble, any of these bombers, they had to contact us. We’d got special, special sign, call sign. Then we would contact Grantham, 5 Group by telephone. So that was one way of preventing them stopping the raid by clearing the head Group at Grantham. That was, as I say I was in Scampton 617, April 26th ’43. Funny thing, I was in, I was actually at Scampton about four or five months and it was the exact time when the raid was on. I’ve got that on my official papers which said I was there but I was a very minor, a very minor helper but I was very proud to be there. Now then, after that we had to go to Number 4 Radio School at Madley near Hereford to complete the flying. The flying part of the signal, of the radio and that was in July and August 1943. So, from, from 617 Squadron I went over to Madley near Hereford and so then after that I’d done all the wireless and flying part. I went to Number 10 Gunnery School at Barrow in Furness in September 25, ‘43 to do the gunnery course. And on January ’44, that’s when I’d done all the gunnery and got my, got my [pause] I think I’d got the gunnery course finished. I went to the Personnel Disposal Centre in January the 16th 1944. And then to Dispersal Unit because we were sent there from, from there to Canada. Now, we went and I’ve got the draught number, draught 867, Royal Mail Ship Andes. And we were sent over to Canada and the USA. Now, this ship was built for the Mediterranean. A flat-bottomed thing which was built for, I think it was six hundred chaps and there was four thousand of us in it going across the Atlantic in January 1944. I think it should be ’43 that. No, it isn’t. It says —
SP: Yeah.
JW: But anyhow, I can’t quite read that. So —
SP: That’s January ‘44 that. Yeah.
JW: Yes. Right. So, from there, when we get over to Canada we went up to, went up to Montreal, just as a transit camp. And then from there they sent us down to New York. From New York by train. New York, Boston, Baltimore, right the way down Maryland. Right to the bottom, to Miami. Miami in Florida. And that was quite an experience because they took ten days to get down and we were dressed in Royal Air Force blue, and we used to, we were stopping at every other station and meeting all the Americans. Anyhow, from there, from, from Miami they sent us over to Number 111 Operational Training Unit at Nassau in the Bahamas. Now, that’s where I went training on Liberator bombers and Mitchell bombers. We did our training there but this was with Coastal Command. I was four months all together training with the depth charges and gunnery and all that in Nassau. That was quite an experience because in those days nobody had been to Nassau. Only the very wealthy people. Now then, that was in? What date have I got down here? I think ’44. Somewhere, near. Anyhow, I was there for four months. Then I came back and went to reception at Harrogate on June, June ’44. So I was four months, I think in, in training in the Bahamas. And from there I went to the Heavy Conversion Unit at Killadeas. That’s, that’s Northern Ireland. This was August the 8th ’44. So, it was on 131 Operational Training Unit. You see VE Day was the 8th of May ’45. Anyhow, this was ’44. August 9th ’44 and when, this was in Ireland on Lough Erne where we were trained on Catalina Flying Boats, and later on to Sunderlands but I had a very lucky experience there. On this Lough Erne the course to convert on to flying boats from, from ground Liberators and Mitchells. It was about eight weeks the course. Now, I went on this course, enjoying it too and then halfway through whether or not it was the good food in America I don’t know but I got boils on my bottom and I couldn’t sit still to send my Morse on the keys. So, I had to come off and go into dock to have these boils treated. Nurses chasing me around with kaolin poultices, red hot to put on your bottom. Didn’t like that bit. Anyhow, I went in to, in to this dock and I was in there for two or three weeks and they cleared them. Came out and looked for my crew, and this was lucky part on my part, very sad on the other part. They set of from Enniskillen, North Ireland, Lough Erne. They set off to India across the Bay of [pause] Is it Gibraltar? Bay of Biscay. Bay of Biscay. Set off from there. Got across the Bay of Biscay. Went to Gibraltar. From Gibraltar they went to Sicily and that’s as far as they got because they crashed in to Mount Etna in Sicily and they all got killed. All my mates got it. So, boils in some respects saved my life. But it was a very sad occasion because I’d just got used to them. Anyhow, I found a new crew. Got a new crew and did what they did by training fully and getting, leaving Northern Ireland across the Bay of Biscay, Gibraltar, and then to Sicily, only we didn’t hit Mount Etna. We went straight on and down. Down to Habbaniya, I think. I can’t remember the names but we ended up at Karachi in Northern India, and that’s where we did a bit of supply business flying from, from there. I was with 240 Squadron this. Well, it would be one of two squadrons 240 and 205, and then 230 Squadron. They’re all, they were all Coastal Command [pause] Have a little finish and then I’ll probably —
[recording paused]
JW: 205 Squadron at Redhills Lake, Madras. From Karachi we went down. This was 1945. We went down. That was from, from Karachi, 205 Squadron at Redhills Lake, Madras comes next. That’s the south of India, and we were stationed there in March ’46, I think it is. Anyhow, then we were doing supply from Koggola. We got sent from Madras which is, that’s interesting too because Madras, there was Redhills Lake there. I had an operation, and I said to a chap, he was an Indian surgeon. I said, ‘I’ve been to Madras. Redhills Lake.’ He said, ‘Oh, they’ve built a big either hospital or something similar at that place near Madras. Oh, I could go in to, I could go in to details about being there in Redhills Lake. We went on leave to the only gold field in India. They called it Kolar Gold Fields, and I even got a chance to handle some of the nuggets. The big chunks of gold. They wouldn’t give me one but I went down there and they said, ‘Do you want to go down here.’ I said, ‘Oh, I’ll risk anything.’ So we, two of three of us said, so but they said, ‘Before you go down, and if you want to get out for a big cave down there you can get out and go around if you want. But we’ve got to warn you as soon as you go out and go into this cave if you don’t get into the middle where the water is coming up in the spring where the oxygen comes you’ll pass out.’ So, we did it anyway. We went and rushed to, rushed to this spring and sped over it just to say we’d been in. That’s why. Little daredevils. So that was, that was from Redhills Lake. Now then, they sent us from Redhills Lake at Madras over to, to Ceylon as it was. That’s Sri Lanka now. Koggola. Now, Koggola was stuck on to, stuck on to, [pause] What’s the capital of Ceylon? Galle. The capital of Ceylon used to be Galle. Well, Koggola Airfield [pause] Lake or whatever it was at Koggala was next to Galle in Ceylon. That was June in 1946. We slipped, we’ve missed a lot out, but anyhow and then that, that is what upset me most of all partly because from Koggala we did a lot of supply taking nurses and supplies over to Singapore. Seletar was the airfield on the station. Seletar. And we used to take these supplies but the thing that upset me terrifically was to see some of the lads that had been prisoners. Terrible to look at and to see them suffering. Some of them didn’t make it. They died before. But we, we took them back to Ceylon. That’s right. And that was the run that I did quite a lot. Between, between [pause] Seletar, which is Singapore back to Koggala in Ceylon. I’m just trying to think when we changed over to Sunderland Flying Boats. I think we did. I can’t remember the exact date but we did because I remember taking, they were a much bigger plane, the Sunderland than the Catalina because we were in a Sunderland Flying Boat when they said, ‘Right. You’ve got to take these supplies to Hong Kong.’ And so, we’d never been to Hong Kong before so we set off with these. I don’t know if we’d got nurses with us or just supplies, but we set off to go to Hong Kong and it was quite, I’ve got all the distances and times that it took us. I’ve got them in another book. But this time was the first time we went to Hong Kong. I shall never forget it because we’d not been there, well we hadn’t been on Sunderlands very long, but we gets going to Hong Kong and I remember the, it was in between mountains. There’s mountains on either side, and the wireless reception was terrible but we managed to get. I didn’t think we’d get there because Bob said, ‘Well, we’ve very little fuel so it looks like I’m going to have to put it down.’ And the thing that I can remember I was in the wireless operator’s unit just next to him, and I looked out of the window at the front and there was a big pier. A big pier stretching out right, as it got near the water. A big pier. I thought well, this is it. We’re going to crash into that. But somehow, he twisted it and missed the pier but we ended up on the beach. All the floats went through the wing, and the propeller got bent and all the rest of it but we were, we didn’t get killed. And I remember that, and thinking, well why did it happen? And I found out why it happened. Firstly, we hadn’t got enough fuel to turn round and land going out to sea because that’s where you were going. You’d got plenty of water to land. But we hadn’t, and that’s why we ended up in the beach. But I had to leave him. I had to leave Bob. We, we went with another aircraft back to Ceylon and Bob stayed there to give an account of why and that’s the last time I saw him. In 1946. And so I was very sorry. But two or three years ago I’m reading the Indian Ocean Flying Boat Association newspaper and it says, “Bob Cole is now living in Clacton on Sea.” So, I thought, marvellous. I’ll ring up. So, I rang him up, I said, ‘Bob, what are you doing?’ He says, ‘Who’s that?’ I said, ‘It’s Jack Watkins, your wireless op.’ He said, ‘Never. After all these years.’ As I say, it was only four or five years ago from now. He said, ‘What are you doing?’ I said, ‘I’m coming down to see you.’ So, I went out to see him and we were nice slim young chaps when I left him and now he’s got a big fat paunch and I’ve got a little belly. But anyhow, we had a lovely chat together and oh it was great that and now, even now when I told him that, I rang him up, I said, ‘Bob, guess what I’ve been flying in a little Tiger Moth that you used to train in before you got — ’ ‘Oh, no.’ He says, ‘I’ve not been in one of them for years.’ I said, ‘Well, I met a person that’s got one and he’s took me around, and I went right around with him right, very, very near to Scampton where the Red Arrows were,’ I said. ‘And the chap, the pilot said, ‘I’d better not get too near or the Red Arrows are there and they’ll chase us off. But it was a really good experience, and so I just had that but I thought you’d like to know about that. Anyhow, I’ll be seeing you before long, if I can get my mates to bring me down. I’ll come down and see you again.’ That’s it. So, it was lovely that. So that’s as near as I can go for a minute. Yeah.
[recording paused]
So, it was in August 1946 when I went for home enlistment. A Transit Centre was August. August 1946, and then I went to 10 Personnel Dispersal Centre on September the 12th ’46 and that was where I first started off from. From Blackpool on the, I’ve forgotten the name of the place now. Blackpool. Padgate. Started off at Padgate, ended up at Padgate and glad to get home then. Of course, I was BBC Sheffield, Rony Robinson, he goes on from there, said, ‘Oh, what did you do then?’ Well, I’d, this Rony Robinson started the, I said, ‘Well, when I got home,’ I said, ‘I remember coming to Rotherham Station and I’d got two kit bags. One with my flying kit in and one with my ordinary kit in, and —' I said, ‘I felt a bit miserable because the other pal that I’d been, met in Ceylon came, and he’d got, all his family met him. Well, I’d finished with my girlfriend so there were nobody to meet me but I carried these up to Wortley Road where I used to be living, and so I thought thank goodness I’m home.’ But, one of the first things that I thought of straight away, I’m finishing with marching and I’m going to buy myself a motorbike. So, I thought. So, I bought this little motorbike and I thought I’d never had one before, and I thought let’s see how this darned thing works. So, I sit on it, and it was slightly uphill. Kicks it up, and twist the, and twist the throttle and it started moving. Now, I was on it and it was going and I thought this is marvellous. I’m not pedalling and I’m going uphill. And I’m going on like this and I kept on going, and the chap was walking alongside me and said, ‘Why don’t you change gear?’ I’d never thought about that. But it was good to, to have something different. But then of course Rony went on, ‘So what happened then about your marriage business?’ I said, ‘Oh, that. That fell through. I was married for ten years and then I had to throw in the sponge, and I was ten years on my own then.
SP: So John, that was great to run through your sequence of events.
JW: Yeah.
SP: All the time within the RAF.
JW: Yeah.
SP: So, after you joined up and you’d done all your training —
JW: Yeah.
SP: You talked about sometimes, you were, the time you were at Scampton and it was the time when the Dambusters raid was on.
JW: That’s right.
SP: Did you know something special was happening there? Was it —
JW: Well, I knew it was. I didn’t know exactly what was happening but I was used to bombers having been on Liberator bombers which are very similar to the Lancaster and I knew there was something going off and I knew, but we didn’t know. They kept it very hush hush. I remember seeing Guy Gibson and N***** nearby but, because we were right in the middle of it when they were, before they put the big bombs for the Dambusters they used to be, they used to be loading these big bombs up with chains, and we were in a billet only a few hundred yards from it. And I thought crikey if that’s breaks. But no. As for the raid itself, apart from when they told us they didn’t give a lot of detail. They just gave us the call signs and if you heard from this one pass it on straight to 5 Group at Grantham. And, oh no, it was exciting really but scary for a young man. As I say if anybody said they weren’t scared they must have been tougher than me because you never know what’s going to happen. You’re on edge most of the time. But no. I enjoyed, I can’t say I enjoyed it but I remember little things that’s nothing to do with this. My mother came to see me while I was on there. No. I’m, I’m skipping a bit. This was in Blackpool. She came to see me in Blackpool there and of course there was, it was full of aircrew training and she was a very delicate little woman, my [laughs] So, she said, ‘Right. Are we going for lunch?’ Well, the only place you could go to lunch was Old Mother Riley’s Tuck Shop, and they’d even got the knives and forks chained to the table because the lads used to [waltz ] them. But no. To get back to Scampton. We did it. It was very hush hush. We didn’t know a lot. I knew that I had to do a certain job, and that was listen for messages and pass them on to, they was all in different call signs, but you’d pass them on to 5 Group. And as I say after that I seemed to be taken up with being posted as I say to different places.
[recording paused]
Yes. The hut that they told us to go to was to, was in the middle of a field out in nowhere really between Lincoln and 5 Group, or Scampton and 5 Group. I can’t remember. It’s in a similar, similar area. But instead of, the reason they sent us out there was because they’d been told to contact us in this little hut. They give us different call signs, and then we’d pass the message by telephone to 5 Group in Grantham. What the main thing was, they didn’t want any of the bombers to contact 5 Group because that was headquarters, and if they’d have gone straight away, they’d have sent a bomber and just cleared the lot. So, as I say it was exciting for, for a young chap and baffling and all this, but we got, we got through it all right.
SP: An important part to play during that time.
JW: It really was. It seems, it seems trivial now but at that time it must have been important for them to tell us to go there and send us in between Scampton and, and Grantham. Between them two. We were there so they would be contacting us there. And then if they wanted to bomb where, where they could hear where our call sign, one we, we’d have got it then. Yeah. But no. No, it’s, it’s a long, long time ago.
SP: And what was life like at Scampton air base at that time? So obviously we know —
JW: Well —
SP: The Dambusters. What was life like on the base?
JW: The base was, well, it’s hard to say because everything was in short supply. I mean food and things like that. We got served, I remember queuing up a meal once. K rations they called it. K rations. They were just like these Ryvita biscuits. Two or three of those and that was it. But even in Blackpool before we went to Scampton the food was poor and we used to send it home. We all had a biscuit tin with bits of cake and things like that. There were more mice in them boarding houses. They used to be running on the top of the bed. We used to knock them off. In your greatcoat there would be mice because we used to keep food in the bedroom. But things were a bit tight there. But there are certain things that that I remember that I wish we’d got. Dried egg. It was powdered egg. I loved it. I don’t know if you can get it or not now. We’ve gone off the subject now so you’d better get back to —
SP: That’s fine. It’s the really interesting stuff. It’s all those bits of information.
JW: Well, you see things that, that are, different altogether and especially when I’ve just skipped over the Blitzes of Rotherham and Sheffield there. That was really frightening because I remember being in the Tivoli, Tivoli was a little cinema in Rotherham and this was the night when the Blitz was on too, and I’m sat there with a young lady of course, one of the neighbours, and we were watching this film. All of a sudden boom, boom, and the seats were shaking like mad so I said, ‘Well, we’d better get out of here.’ I said, ‘Because it looks as though it’s getting nearer and nearer.’ So, we gets out, and there was a little passage down the side of the Tivoli cinema so, I said, ‘Come on, let’s get in this passage.’ We just stood in this passage and whoof it shot us right to the other end of the passage. And I said, ‘We’d better get home now.’ And there again when you get home, some had these Anderson shelters which were like corrugated steel in the garden. But otherwise, you could have what they called, I forget what they called them but it was a great big steel plate the size of the dining table, a big dining table with all wire meshes. Meshing underneath and that was your air raid shelter indoors, and you could put blankets and things on and creep in there every time the siren went. You know, you can’t realise that. Kids wouldn’t realise that if the sirens were whoo whoo whoo. You’d know that that’s the time that they were coming. The German bombers were coming. And when they had done with their business and they’d gone you could hear them hmmmm, then the all clear would come. It would be one solitary note [humming] That means you could come out and put the fires out, or see to what wanted doing outside. You don’t realise that. People don’t, don’t realise that can’t remember the Blitz. But there was some, I’ve forgotten most of it but I remember in the middle of Sheffield was a massive big pub come hotel called the Marples and it was filled, the bottom was filled with all spirits, whisky, wine and you mention it and that went up, and that. Oh, it was, it was terrible. All broken down and on fire. I remember my wife worked in, in the Co -op’s stitching sewing business in West Street and she said, ‘Well, we just got ready and went to work from Tinsley,’ where she was living. And when they got to work the policeman said, ‘What are you doing? Get back home.’ You know. So, they sent them back home then. But you forget. It’s a good job you do forget really. But not altogether. Same as this that I’m coming back to when they’re going to close Scampton down. I don’t like it because I think they should, they should leave it open for British heritage because it’s such a, well it was such an important thing. It was just from the Dam raid to, it saved England anyhow, I think. And I mean they asked me before what, what do you think about it? I said, well I don’t know that much about it because, but I do know that if, If I said to the government, to whoever in charge, ‘We’re going to shift Nelson’s Column. We’re going to move it.’ There would be an uproar. Or if we said we’re not going to bother with Flanders Field with all the poppies. It’s only a field with poppies in so why should we worry? So, enough said.
SP: Ok.
JW: Right. Rest now.
SP: Ok John, so we’ve covered about Scampton and, and the air raids.
JW: Yeah.
SP: At Sheffield and Rotherham.
JW: Yeah.
SP: Do you want to tell me a little time about you time when you’d done your training in Canada and you were travelling through America? You said you were in your RAF uniform.
JW: Blue yes. Yeah.
SP: How were you treated by the Americans? What was that journey like?
JW: Well, really from, from New York that was an experience and all because remember we were only eighteen, or, nineteen, year old. You’ve heard about New York but then you come and you have a short period, just a short period in New York. I remember going around Broadway. Well, everybody’s heard of Broadway, and you look up and the buildings are so high that they seemed to join at the top. Of course, you’d nothing like that in England. So, it’s all busy busy. I can’t remember much about it but it wasn’t, there was no black out. No blackout in America. And when I left England there was rationing. You daren’t strike a match in the dark because, ‘Put that light out there.’ Because it was the ruling there. The bread was brown and it was dark. You don’t get white bread, and you couldn’t get sugar and I remember the rationing was butter, sugar, lard, marg, bacon, eggs, cheese. All those were rationed to nearly nothing. But then to get from that to America. I told Rony, I said I’m going to start a book about. “From Hell to Paradise and Back.” And I said, I said, he said, ‘Well, why don’t you write it?’ I said, ‘Because it’s all the past and nobody’s interested.’ And I keep thinking now about Scampton. It’ll be all in the past and will be forgotten like the poppy fields. We don’t want it to be forgotten. Not for the kid’s sake. And anyhow, coming back to America I looked at New York and Broadway. I’d seen that, and quickly just going past and then we set off down and I should have to look at the map to find out which places we stopped at because it was a ten day journey from New York down to Miami in Florida because we kept stopping and he used to say, ‘Right. You’ve got a half day here.’ So, we would go out and we’d meet the people of America and they were marvellous. Lovely. Because they knew what we were suffering in England and oh all the food, The stuff like that. Everything was really like paradise at the time of England. That was why I thought I’ll write a book, “From Hell to Paradise,” and come back. But anyhow, when it gets to the bottom the thing is that you remember about the train there in, in America and you go to the back compartment the first thing I said, ‘I’ll have a tea please.’ So, what did they bring me? An iced tea. I’d never had iced tea in my life. So, I had that but go back to the compartment and look down the line from where you’re coming, and you can’t see the end. It goes, goes on and on and on. Miles and miles. But every time you stopped and went to see, you learned something about the people. In young men. I mean, I got on a bike there once and I said, ‘Where’s are the, there’s no brakes, where are —’ ‘Oh, you just back pedal for the brakes.’ And things like that stick in your mind and they were lovely people, and they really looked after us. And of course, when I got to Miami, I must tell you this, being a shy and bashful RAF aircrew chap, I met a girl down there and she was a WAVE. What’s a WAVE? A WAVE is an American Wren. They call them WAVES there. So, I met this girl called Peggy and I were very gentlemanly, no messing about and she took us all around to nightclubs where all the names like Bing Crosby. I don’t know who they were but they were right up there. Took us round there, took us round a race, a dog racing track. Never been to one of those. Everything was bigger and, and elaborate. Anyhow, she was a nice lass and I’d, I’d split with my girl, because I’d heard that she’d been playing away and confirmed that that was true. So I said, ‘Right. Well, that’s it now. We’re finished.’ I said, ‘You can be my girlfriend.’ ‘Oh, that would be lovely.’ So that’s what I met when I’m was going down to Miami. Then I had to leave them. Had to leave them behind. You get on a little boat to go to Nassau in the Bahamas, and that was a lovely trip because the waters there were pure and clean, and you could see all the little fishes like humbugs, all different colours. I remember I dropped a pair of sunglasses down there. Right down to the bottom. Down and down and down. Oh, ever so far. Oh, that’s that then. That’ll cost me a fiver for some new ones. Anyhow, this young lad says, ‘I’ll get them boss. I’ll get them.’ And he starts swimming down and I looked at him. Well, I could swim a lot having been on Catalinas and, and he got them back for me. ‘Right. Thank you.’ So, I gave him a penny and he was quite happy. Anyhow, we go from there with these flying fish at the side of the boat going from, from Miami to Nassau in the Bahamas. Now, Nassau at that time was when the Duke of Windsor, he’d finished with, he didn’t want to be king and he threw in his hand and went with Mrs Simpson and they went to Windsor House in the Bahamas. In Nassau. We didn’t see much of him but he was there at the same time. And anyhow, we got there after seeing, oh I’d better tell you this but it’s, it’s a bit frightening, and it’s a bit rude and it’s a bit all sorts. But I’ll tell it you and I hope you’re, nobody’s offended but it’s true. We gets there and just before we pulls up in to Nassau the MO came out and he said, ‘Now, look here lads, just sit down there and look at this — ’ video. Not a video. A film. And he says, ‘It’s a bit horrible but you’re going, going to watch it because I’m going to force you in to it.’ He says, ‘Now, there’s some beautiful young ladies on this island here. Well, I’m going to tell you now, after you’ve seen this film, if you carry on with what you think you’re going to be doing good luck to you, but don’t come to me complaining later.’ And he showed me this film of VD, and I’m not kidding I thought right that’s me finished with females forever. It was disgusting. They got a little umbrella and stuffed it up your willy and brought, ooh I thought. Well, it put me off, and it put quite a, most of the chaps off but one or two did. They did succumb to these wishes of the, but partly the females because they were asking you, well I’ll not go in to more detail because it’s rude that. But anyhow, that was one other thing but everything was lovely there. That’s why I think when I came home, and I got these boils on my bottom I had such wonderful food there. And that, I think it upset completely but anyhow the other thing I’ll tell you, one little instance because really it would be uninteresting to anybody else but in these big Lanc [pause] in the American —
SP: Liberator.
JW: Liberator bombers, we were. There was all sorts of different, everything different on the radio and the guns. The guns were .5 cannon, and there was blister, blister turrets underneath so when you landed you were in between the two wheels, big wheels and it nearly set on fire. But I remember one instance during training. We used to be, we used to be armed with depth charges and all the rest, because there was some sort of submarines and things in the, in the area. I didn’t know about but we used to go on to training trips and if we didn’t see anything on the way back there was a wreck, and the idea was to, for practice reasons the navigator used to have to drop one depth charge near this wreck and the air gunner, wireless op/air gunner used to have to lift up the Perspex on the back turret, lean over with a big camera and take a film of exactly how near we were to this wreck. And the one that I remember was I had got this turn. ‘It’s your turn to go take the photo.’ So, I gets this dirty great big camera, leans out on the back and says, ‘Right. Ok. I’m ready at the back.’ He goes, ‘Right. We’re taking the run. Right. Bombs gone,’ and I expected to take a film of the, how near to the wreck it was, and all of a sudden the water splashed up. We were only about a hundred foot up but the water came right up and I never got a film because the navigator had pressed the wrong button and instead of pressing it for one, he pressed the whole lot. So there were about six or eight depth charges went and we got splashed. But we just said that it must have been an electrical fault. It couldn’t have been our fault because — but that’s just an instance that sticks in your mind. You see when I’m talking like this, one thing leads to another. We talk about sea planes, Liberators, Catalinas and Sunderlands. Now, you think when you land a Lancaster or you land a Liberator you come down gently and it’s either a good landed, a bumpy one, or straight but you’re down and that’s it. You open up and you get out and go for a coffee or something. When you land a seaplane you land on water which little, few people know that water is as hard as concrete when you land and you can feel it under your foot, because it’s only like the thickness of the hull. But you land there and you look for a buoy floating. It might be rough, but you look for it and there’s always got to be two of you in the front turret to get that buoy because you have to have a big boat hook. And then you see this buoy with a loop on top and you’ve to grab the loop and pull it. The engines are still going. Pull this towards you, and then get a big thick rope and stuff it through this loop on the buoy, bring it back and wrap it around a bollard and hold it tight and then give the thumbs up to the pilot to cut the engines. And it’s quite an ordeal that to do that especially when it’s wobbling about. I nearly lost one of my best mates. We were both in the front doing that, and he was doing the boat hook and I was getting the rope to wrap around this bollard, and all of a sudden he slipped and he went down there. So, he’s hanging on, he’s gone under the water hanging on to this arm and I’m hanging onto the bollard with the rope there and he nearly, he nearly got killed really. But anyhow he gradually pulled himself up there. Anyway, we never spoke. We never spoke either of us just put my thumb up to the pilot to cut the engines. And that was that and we never mentioned it again but in two minutes he could have gone. That’s it.
[recording paused]
SP: So, we talked about the different planes that you flew in, in Coastal Command. The Catalinas and the Sunderlands.
JW: Yeah.
SP: Do you want to tell me a little bit about the role of Coastal Command? What, what you did on a day to day basis?
JW: Well, it depends which squadron you were with and where but generally speaking the, the role of Coastal Command was to escort the convoys that in my opinion from America to England because we depended on America for food and for lots of things, early days. And it was a known fact that the Germans had got terrific patrols and submarines that were just up and down, and just pinching all the trade and sinking all the troops. We were losing a terrific lot of ships and things, but we also saved a lot because we, we managed to depth charge a lot of the submarines. I don’t know how many. I can’t tell. I did know but I’ve forgotten now. And apart from that Coastal Command was on, what’s the name [pause] for any Bomber Command or anybody got brought down in the sea they would land and pick them up which was, we did quite a lot of that. And it was important to know that, that they were there. But my main job was on the South East Asia Command. That’s from Madras at first. Redhills Lake, Madras to Singapore. Seletar at Singapore. And it was supplying, in fact they called the squadron 240 SPUI Supply at first, to supply nurses and equipment, food etcetera to, to Seletar at Singapore. And then we did that for quite a while and then they transferred us to Galle or Koggala which was in Ceylon. We were doing the same, same trips from, from there, from Ceylon over to Seletar, Singapore. Down the Malacca Straits, and searching for Japanese submarines.
I don’t know if we escorted any ships across there but mainly it was supply. And as I say it’s hard to remember now, but from there how it finished up was we got, we went on to Sunderlands from, from Catalinas. They were carrying more things, but there’s also different things to learn about them. We were still, though we were experienced we were still training. Every time you changed from a Catalina to a Sunderland you’ve all the different radios, different guns, and different procedures. Mind you the Sunderland’s a lot bigger because there was a galley there where we could cook. There was a big, big difference altogether. In fact, the Japanese and Germans used to call it a flying porcupine there were that many guns in it. But as I say when you think about different planes you’d to learn about different, the Catalina has got a blister on the side with guns. We’d to learn the different guns and the different radios. Apart from knowing the, there was one, one thing that I do remember. We were coming back from, from Singapore to [pause] I think it might have been Redhills or it might have been Koggala, in there, and the navigator, the navigator had given Bob the course, and somehow, mind you the navigator was mostly always drunk. He liked brandy. And Bob says, ‘Jack, will, will you just check your directional finding aerial.’ It’s like a round aerial that you twist around to find out where the beacons were sending messages from and it’s tells you where to go. Well, the navigator had given us a course to go so far, and if we’d have kept to that, if we’d kept to that course, we should have missed Ceylon and we should have been in the middle of the Indian Ocean. But we used this, this direction finding aerial, put it right and landed. But just a little thing like that could have, we could have ended up in the middle of the Indian Ocean and wondered why. But these are things that’s apart from searching your eyes, it’s no wonder my eyes are bad because you go from, from Ceylon to Singapore you don’t just sit down and listen to the radio you’re searching all the time for submarines and anything that is abnormal that’s going to attack our shipping and —
SP: Would that all be by sight or was there any equipment that would highlight if there were submarines as well?
JW: Well, it was really, it depended on when. I think there was certain, certain equipment there but I can’t remember much about it. Mainly by sight. That’s what I say, my eyes used to, we used to have to had to scan, scan the horizon. Scan the sea. I’ve spent hours and hours looking at that for periscopes and things like that, but that’s a long time ago. I forget about it. But I was pleased when it was all over and they said, ‘Right, you’re going. You’re going to, you’re going back to England.’ You couldn’t believe it at first. Little things come to mind then. The actual week when I was demobbed there was a lot of snakes and things out there, you know and we used to [pause] I remember this time when it was near going home time. We went, we’d been to the mess, we’d been drinking a lot, and we always carried a revolver and always live ammunition, and we get back to the mess and they were all like palm trees, you know. They weren’t wooden things. Palm they used to, the huts and billets were. And I remember going in and seeing this snake on the top and it was only about, it might have been a couple of yards long. Maybe a yard and a half, and it was a silver one and we’d been drinking and we were just happily shooting at it to knock it off like. So, you know, as we shot it down when we did shoot it down I always thought snakes went slow like that but this one was brmmm and it was out of the door. So, the following day I’m going around getting all my things stamped for going home and I came to this office of the hut where they had to stamp my forms and just as I get there, I was on a bike at the time and a dirty great snake, a whacking big thick thing going across the road just as I can see today. I thought crumbs. I nearly fell of the bike. I might have done. I jumped off anyhow. Gets into the hut where I’d gone to have this thing stamped. I said, ‘Crikey, I’ve just had an experience. There was a snake. I think it must have been twenty foot long as that thing.’ ‘Oh, you don’t want to worry about that,’ he says. ‘That’s, that, that were only a rat snake. They only eat rats.’ I said, ‘I don’t care what it was,’ I said, ‘Because just a few days ago we found a little snake on the top and it were all silver coloured. Silver coloured and we were shooting at it. We knocked it down. It shot off like.’ He said, ‘It’s a good job it didn’t come to you. They call them silver krait, and It’s the most poisonous snake in the country, so just these little things that stick in a small mind.
SP: Yeah.
JW: Now then —
SP: Did you have the same crew while you were out there?
JW: I did.
SP: Did you? Yeah.
JW: Until that last time when we crashed the Sunderland in Hong Kong and then we split up. But on odd occasions we used to fly with different, if they were short of a chap we’d —
SP: Yeah.
JW: If there was a wireless op.
SP: Who was your crew then? Who was your main crew?
JW: My main crew was Bob Cole. I’ve got pictures of us here. And —
SP: So —
JW: With the crew who they were.
SP: Yeah.
JW: Well, these were wireless operators.
SP: Just tell me who your crew were.
JW: This is all my crew.
SP: Yeah. What were their names?
JW: Bob [Vinton] there. Frankie [Burke]. Jock, I forget his name. I’ve got it written down somewhere. And he was the skipper. Hawkey, Flight Lieutenant Hawkey. Pete [Dakus] and I forget him now. He was, he was from down south. I’ve got them written down. It might be on the back of these. And I think he was an Aussie and that’s me. I don’t know where —
SP: So that’s your pilot.
JW: That’s Flight Lieutenant Hawkey and, well, I’ve got them written down somewhere. It might be on the back.
SP: So, John, obviously the crew called you Jack but everyone else had nicknames on crews. What was your nickname?
JW: Oh, yes. Well, as I say, well when I was on the crew it was still Jack but when I came home here and joined the RAF Association well that’s when at one of the meetings we’d been on parade and marching for some Armed Forces Day I think it was. But when we came back, we get to outside the Town Hall and the mayor came out and about she said, ‘Now, chaps if you’d like to pop upstairs for a coffee or a brandy.’ Well, you know who was first upstairs. I was up there like a shot and the girl serving the coffee she was really lovely and I looked at her. I said, ‘You are really lovely you are, aren’t you?’ She said, well, she didn’t mind, and I gave her a little kiss on the cheek. Now then, the mayor was just at my side. I didn’t know she was there so I thought I’m on a charge here. I’m going to get in trouble. So, I turned to her and I said, ‘I wonder, is it appropriate that I kiss the mayor?’ And she said, ‘I don’t see why not.’ So, I thought how lovely. So, I got out of that, and I thought that was the end of it but it wasn’t really because the lads, some got on to that and I admitted I might have kissed one or two other ladies that were expecting to be kissed, or well I was liking to be kissing t them but anyhow that was that side. And then we come to a, a service in the local Minster and it was where the armed, there were the Military Wives Choir and brass band, and some other thing., some other group all in church. Full congregation. Also, before the service starts the mayor stands up and said, ‘Jack will you please stand. John will you please stand up and I want to present you with something.’ So, she presented me with this Scotch plaid carrier bag and I thought what’s all this about? So, I opened it and there was a, a lovely tie with a Sunderland Flying Boat printed on it and there was a gold watch that fits in your top pocket with a Sunderland Flying Boat on it, and then there was this mug. A lovely coloured mug with a Sunderland printed on it and they’d put, “To Snogger John Watkins,” just because I’d happened to kiss the mayor. But I thanked them very much for it and since that of course they all put my name on that as Snogger. And at first, I thought well I don’t know if I like this or not. It makes you feel a bit common and the rest of it. But then they printed a “Snogger” number plate for the back of my scooter. I said, ‘I’m not putting that on. You can just go and put my, do another one and put RAF 240 squadron and I’ll put that on.’ So, I filed the “Snogger” one away but since all this talk about different places and where you’ve been and what you’ve done, I’m afraid Snogger’s come to the front again so we’d better keep Snogger in, but I suppose I shall be getting somebody’s fist in my, in my face one of these days and saying, ‘Well, that’s my young lady so keep off.’ I’ll take it anyhow. Will that do?
SP: That is brilliant. So, John, I just want to thank you on behalf of the International Bomber Command Centre’s Digital Archives for sharing your stories with us today.
JW: Good. Thank you very much. I have enjoyed it.
SP: It really has been a real honour to meet you. Thank you.
JW: Yes. It’s nice to see you darling and you’ll get a kiss before we go so come here. Yes. Thank you. Lovely. Thank you darling.
SP: Ok. Thanks.
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
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Interview with John 'Snogger' Watkins
Creator
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Susanne Pescott
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2018-08-02
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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.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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AWatkinsJ180802, PWatkinsJ1801
Conforms To
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Pending review
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Format
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01:02:00 audio recording
Spatial Coverage
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Bahamas
Canada
Great Britain
India
Sri Lanka
Singapore
United States
England--Bedfordshire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Wiltshire
Bahamas--Nassau
Bahamas
Italy
Italy--Mount Etna
India--Chennai
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Air Force. Coastal Command
Language
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eng
Description
An account of the resource
John Watkins was working in retail in Rotherham and in 1939 he joined 218 Squadron ATC. He joined the RAF in February 1942 at RAF Cardington, and did his initial training at Blackpool. In December 1942 he did his wireless training at RAF Yatesbury. His first role was as a ground personnel wireless operator at RAF Scampton in 1943. He next went to RAF Madeley to complete his aircrew training and then to 10 Gunnery School in Barrow in Furness. In early 1944 he went to the USA, via Canada. He was posted to 111 OTU in Nassau in the Bahamas to train on Liberator and Mitchell aircraft. On his return to the UK he converted to the Catalina and later the Sunderland flying boats. His original crew set off from Northern Ireland to fly to India, but due to a medical issue he didn’t fly with them and his crew were killed enroute. He finished his career flying on operations for Coastal Command in India and the Far East. He was personally upset by the condition of the ex-prisoners of war of the Japanese he and his crew ferried from bases.
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1940
1942-02-26
1943-06-24
1944-01-16
1945
1946
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Julie Williams
205 Squadron
5 Group
617 Squadron
Air Gunnery School
aircrew
B-24
Catalina
Eder Möhne and Sorpe operation (16–17 May 1943)
ground personnel
prisoner of war
RAF Barrow in Furness
RAF Cardington
RAF Madley
RAF Scampton
RAF Yatesbury
Sunderland
training
wireless operator
wireless operator / air gunner
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/949/9449/PWrigleyJ17040006.2.jpg
d778fdc5e39a6097c11bdf572b6dd30a
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
Wrigley, James. Album
Description
An account of the resource
Photograph album containing 51 photographs of James Wrigley's family, training and post war service in the United States and the Far East with 97 Squadron.
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
Wrigley, J
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-07-09
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
Washington, three civilians, aircrew
Description
An account of the resource
Photograph 1 is the Capitol, Washington taken from an aircraft and partly obscured by an engine, captioned 'Capitol building, Washington D.C. 1947'.
Photograph 2 is a head and shoulders portrait of a man, a woman and a girl, captioned 'Lloyd, Dolores & Mike Dessaint, Riverside, California. 1947.'
Photograph 3 is six aircrew with a woman in the centre of the line. They are standing in front of a four engined bomber. It is captioned 'Lefty Cowles Jock Simpson Cholly's wife, Self, Johnny Rown [?] Chollerton Hemswell 1948'
Photograph 4 is an airman in an aircraft. He has a tray of mugs. It is captioned 'Tea Up!'.
Photograph 5 is the cockpit of an aircraft with two aircrew at the front and two more behind. It is captioned 'Cholly feeds the skipper'.
Photograph 6 is two men standing beside a palm tree, They are wearing towels, captioned 'Nav. Cook & Skipper Go native. 1948 Negombo, Ceylon'.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1947
1948
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Six b/w photograph from an album
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Photograph
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PWrigleyJ17040006
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
Civilian
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Sri Lanka
United States
California
Sri Lanka--Negombo
Washington (D.C.)
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.
1947
1948
aircrew
Lincoln
RAF Hemswell
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/949/9450/PWrigleyJ17040007.2.jpg
cf73e18d3bbd5ad62eb031b30b6278ec
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
Wrigley, James. Album
Description
An account of the resource
Photograph album containing 51 photographs of James Wrigley's family, training and post war service in the United States and the Far East with 97 Squadron.
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
Wrigley, J
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-07-09
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
Ceylon
Description
An account of the resource
Photograph 1 is of a snake charmer. Behind is the Celanes government building. It is captioned ' Snake Charmer -Colombo, Ceylon & Celanese Government building'.
Photograph 2 is an airman on a rickshaw. Behind is the Celanese government building, captioned 'Bill Doran in Rickshaw before Celanese Govt. building, Colombo, 1948.'
Photograph 3 is of government buildings captioned 'G.P.O. & Big Clock, Colombo, Ceylon'.
Photograph 4 is a mosque captioned 'Mosque, Seeduwa village, Ceylon'.
Photographs 5 and 6 are local Celanese people captioned 'Natives, Negombo, Ceylon'.
Photograph 7 is anative up a palm tree captioned '"Nelson" collects coconuts'.
Photograph 8 is local people working in a field using hand tools. A supervisor stands watching. Behind are palm trees.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1948
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Eight b/w photographs in an album.
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Photograph
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PWrigleyJ17040007
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Civilian
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Sri Lanka
Sri Lanka--Colombo
Sri Lanka--Negombo
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1948
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.
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/949/9456/PWrigleyJ17040013.1.jpg
d43e2448acc4300d36559ac067ff3fb2
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
Wrigley, James. Album
Description
An account of the resource
Photograph album containing 51 photographs of James Wrigley's family, training and post war service in the United States and the Far East with 97 Squadron.
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
Wrigley, J
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-07-09
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
Beaufighter, Spitfire and Lincoln
Description
An account of the resource
Photograph 1 is an air-to-air view of a flying Beaufighter, captioned 'Beaufighter formation, Negombo, Ceylon, 1948.'
Photograph 2 is an air-to-air view of a Spitfire taken from a Lincoln, captioned 'Spitfire breakaway, Shallufa Egypt 1948.'
Photograph 3 has been removed and was captioned 'No 1 A.G.S. Pembrey 1943.'
Photograph 4 is a large group of airmen arranged in four rows in front of a Lincoln. It is captioned '97 (Straits Settlements) Squadron RAF Hemswell Nov 17 '47'.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1948
1947-11-14
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Three b/w photographs from an album
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Photograph
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PWrigleyJ17040013
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. Fighter Command
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Egypt
Sri Lanka
Sri Lanka--Negombo
Egypt--Suez
North Africa
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1948
1947-11-14
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.
97 Squadron
Beaufighter
Lincoln
RAF Hemswell
Spitfire