3
25
189
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1245/16546/PBainA18030003.1.jpg
7e98198577ede2f0ce3ccedd0f47a666
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1245/16546/PBainA18030012.1.jpg
06590f28caca924129cfc9d34c5a9487
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1245/16546/PBainA18030013.1.jpg
3eda1694c579bf0c82cb0d12b175dfc3
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
Bain, Andrew
A Bain
Description
An account of the resource
58 items. The collection concerns Andrew Bain (1916-1943, 658930, Royal Air Force). He joined the British Army in September 1939 and transferred to the RAF in October 1941. He was killed in action 23/24 August 1943. Collection includes: observer's logbook, pay book, photographs (some loose, some in album), letters (numerous), brevets and badges, medals, ribbons and BC Clasp. Includes correspondence received by Andrew's widow Isabel following his death and a list of his effects. <br /><br />Additional in formation on Andrew Bain is available via <a href="https://losses.internationalbcc.co.uk/loss/201025/">the IBCC Losses Database.</a><br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Lorna Aitchison Howieson and catalogued by Trevor Hardcastle.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-07-23
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
Bain, A
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
Six people at Eyemouth
Description
An account of the resource
Three men and three women. Andrew in scout uniform (with kilt). Group leaning against or sitting on crenellated wall, houses in background. On the reverse 'August 1939 Eyemouth on the eve of war'. On a post- it 'Subject right with Isabella Aitcheson'.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1939
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One b/w photograph and reverse
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
PBainA18030003, PBainA18030012, PBainA18030013
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.
Great Britain
Scotland--Berwickshire
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
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/1230/15996/MRedgraveHC743047-160216-050001.2.jpg
00511226a75e99b92ec15a2daf48e2a9
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1230/15996/MRedgraveHC743047-160216-050002.2.jpg
8c4827cbb177067b8b1b1c9ebf43b4cc
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
Redgrave, Henry Cecil
H C Redgrave
Description
An account of the resource
187 items. The collection concerns Henry Cecil Redgrave (743047, Royal Air Force) and contains his decorations, letters and photographs. He flew operations as a bomb aimer with 207 Squadron from RAF Waddington. He was killed 13/14 March 1941. <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Pam Isaac and catalogued by Barry Hunter.<br /><br /><span>Additional information on Henry Cecil Redgrave is available via the </span><a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/119457/">IBCC Losses Database</a><span>.</span>
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
2015-10-02
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
Redgrave, HC
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
1935 Blackpool Illuminations
Description
An account of the resource
A brochure advertising the 1935 Blackpool Illuminations
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1935
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One printed two-sided leaflet
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
MRedgraveHC743047-160216-050001,
MRedgraveHC743047-160216-050002
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.
Great Britain
England--Lancashire
England--Blackpool
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.
1939
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/998/9671/PWardEM16010044.1.jpg
8d5d763bd011aead70cd64efc9260660
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Ward, Mary. Album
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
2015-12-14
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
Ward, EM
Description
An account of the resource
42 items. The album concerns the work of 517 Squadron Meteorological Flight at RAF Shawbury, RAF Chivenor and RAF Brawdy. It contains photographs of aircraft and staff at work and on leave.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Flying Officer Ron Ward
Description
An account of the resource
Formal photograph of 175740 Flying Officer Ron Ward, in uniform, with meteorological observer's half wing. Captioned 'Ron Ward', 'RAF Service August 1944 - 1946', 'Photo 1946, MORLEY'.
Page has hand written log of his flights at Empire Air navigation School in 1946, flying in Lancaster, Lancastrian 'Aries' and Halifax. Also a list of the RAF stations he was stationed at from 1939 to 1946.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PWardEM16010044
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One b/w photograph on an album page
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Photograph
Text
Text. Personal research
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Devon
England--Lincolnshire
England--Shropshire
England--Yorkshire
Wales--Pembrokeshire
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
aircrew
ground personnel
Halifax
Lancaster
Lancastrian
meteorological officer
RAF Brawdy
RAF Chivenor
RAF Linton on Ouse
RAF Marston Moor
RAF Pocklington
RAF Shawbury
RAF Waddington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/770/9402/SDexterKI127249v10023.2.jpg
ce8be85244540be453b45ba46b5b4833
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
Dexter, Keith Inger. Album
Description
An account of the resource
24 items. Contains newspaper articles and information about Keith and Shelia Dexter while at school. Includes a number of photographs of Keith Dexter's mother's home in Stradishall and of a memorial to men of F Division of the Metropolitan Police lost during 1939-45. Followed by documents from Squadron Leader A N Banks concerning the collision between a Halifax and a Mosquito at RAF Foulsham in a April 1944 with photographs as well as information on Foulsham and 192 Squadron. Finally photographs of Keith Dexter's medals, an escape map and compass and a photograph of a model train built by Keith Dexter with a certificate from the Model Engineering Exhibition 1933.
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
Dexter, KI
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-08-30
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
Keith Dexter's decorations
Description
An account of the resource
Captioned 'Flying Officer Keith Dexter RAFVR 103 Squadron, flew Lancaster ED945 PM-R. Lost 17/6/43 Hal Holland'. Note 'Medals Dexter qualified for Defence M, served DCI Met Police 1939-42 until joined RAF April 1942'. Pilot's brevet above with medal bar containing 1939-1945 Star. Aircrew Europe Star, Defence Medal and War Medal 1939-1945.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Cloth wings, medals on bar, dymo tape note and post-it note
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Physical object
Physical object. Decoration
Physical object
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
SDexterKI127249v10023
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.
Netherlands
Netherlands--'s-Hertogenbosch
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1942-04
1943-06-17
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
103 Squadron
killed in action
Lancaster
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/474/8381/MClydeSmithD39856-160919-04.2.pdf
f7527bdcc9b68b15110a25b101935993
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
Clyde-Smith, Denis
Clyde-Smith, D
Description
An account of the resource
Collection contains 26 items and concerns Squadron Leader Denis Clyde-Smith Distinguished Service Order, Distinguished Flying Cross, who joined the Royal Air Force and trained as a pilot in 1937. He flew in the anti aircraft cooperation role including remotely piloted Queen Bee aircraft before serving on Battle aircraft on 32 Squadron. He completed operational tours on Wellington with 115 and 218 Squadrons and Wellington and Lancaster with 9 Squadron after which he went to the aircraft and armament experimental establishment at Boscombe Down. The collection consists of two logbooks, aircraft histories of some of the aircraft he flew, photographs of people and aircraft, newspaper articles and gallantry award certificate.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by John Clyde-Smith and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-09-19
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Clyde-Smith, D
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
The enclosed aircraft histories are all in respect of Tiger Moth aircraft flown by you while undergoing ab-initio training at Sywell. I have commenced the breakdown of their service life as from the date of their impressment into RAF service. However, prior to this, the Tigers in question were operated under a Type ‘A’ Civil Contract which was put into use under the Expansion Scheme of the 1930 era. Then on the 30th of November, 1939, the Air Ministry took over command and RAF roundels were applied to the Tigers, although their civil markings were retained until 1940/41. The Tigers at Sywell were impressed under two Contracts, each issued on the 17th of September, 1940, as follows:
BB693-706 allocated to 6 E.F.T.S. under Contract No. All3015/40 dtd 17/9/40.
BB788-793 allocated to 6 E.F.T.S. under Contract No. All3015/40 (2nd part)
G-ADGF c/n 3345 impressed as BB704
Used at Sywell until 9/8/42, when it was transferred to 10 OUT at Abingdon. Released to 6 MU Brize Norton on the 9th of February, 1943, and later issued to 16 E.F.T.S. Burnaston. Here BB704 was coded ‘7’ later taking the code FIP:A (the four letter codes were issued to Flying Training Command, circa 1945/46). On 31/7/46, BB704 was flown to 9 MU Cosford, and stored until released to 21 E.F.T.S. Booker (near High Wycombe) on 25/3/48. Coded FIW:O, BB704 remained with 21 E.F.T.S. until transfer to 7 F.T.S. Cottesmore on 30/3/50. On June 19th of the same year it was transferred to Station Flight, Feltwell, taking the code ‘W’. However, it’s active use was now rapidly drawing to a close, and on 30/11/50, it was allocated the instructional airframe serial 6805M and delivered to No. 664 ATC Squadron, St. Walter & St. John’s Godalming County School (Surrey Wing).
[page break]
G-ADGG c/n 3346 impressed as BB695
Used at Sywell throughout it’s entire career and was destroyed in a landing accident on 12/5/41.
G-ADGT c/n 3338 impressed as BB697
Continued in use at Sywell until transfer to 26 E.F.T.S. Theale on, 15/7/42. Coded B26, BB697 remained in use at Theale until it was released to store at 12 MU Kirkbridge on 18/7/45. It’s next move was overseas to Germany and 652 Squadron where it served from 17/10/45 to 9/5/46. Following a year spent at No. 151 Aircraft Repair Unit, BB697 was flown to 5 MU Kemble for disposal.
On 27/8/47, BB697 was sold to a civilian operator, and was restored to the Civil Register, and during the early 1960’s it was still in use, registered to Westwick Distributors, Foulsham.
G-ADGV c/n 3340 impressed as BB694
Used by 6 E.F.T.S. until transfer to 29 E.F.T.S. Clyffe Pypard on 15/7/42. Released to 5 MU Kemble on 14/8/46, BB694 was eventually released to the Royal Navy. In RNAS service BB694 served at Stretton, Lossiemouth, and Arbroath before transfer on 17/11/60, to the Britannia Flight at Roborough (Plymouth).
G-ADGW c/n 3341 impressed as BB706
Sevred at Sywell throughout the war years, and was eventually released to store at 10 MU Hullavington. Struck off Charge on 22/5/50, BB706 was disposed of to W.A. Rollason Ltd., who in turn sold it to the D.H. Technical College for ground instruction purposes.
[page break]
G-ADGX c/n 3342 impressed as BB698
Continued in use at Sywell until 9/8/42, when it was flown to RAF Doncaster. Following a brief spell at Taylorcraft, BB698 was released to 5 MU Kemble on 24/6/43. From Kemble BB698 was transfered [sic] to the Royal Navy and delivered to RNAS Hinstock. Attached to 758 Squadron and later RNAS Lee-on-Solent, BB698 went on to serve with B Flight of 798 Squadron, Station Flight Lee-on-Solent, RNAS Evarton, and 727 Squadron RNAS Gosport, in that order before being sold to the Wiltshire School of Flying on 5/2/51. Restored to the Civil Register it was lost in a crash at Thruxton on 11/7/53, when it’s pilot overshot the airfield.
G-ADGY c/n 3343 impressed as BB699
Served for it’s entire life at Sywell, and was lost in a crash during a low flying exercise near Turvey, Bedfordshire, on 25/7/44, when it struck some power cables.
G-ADGZ c/n 3344 impressed as BB700
Used at Sywell until transfer to 7 A.G.S. Stormy Down on 13/8/42. Delivered to Towyn U.A.S. in 1943, and damaged beyond repair taxing [sic] at RAF Towyn, 10/2/44.
[page break]
G-ADIH c/n 3349 impressed as BB789
While in use at 6 E.F.T.S. BB789 took the code ‘89’. Released to 5 MU Kemble on 9/8/42, and then to RAF Speke on 31/10/42. However, by 6/12/42, BB789 had found it’s way back to 5 MU, where it was eventually converted to an instructional airframe. Bearing the serial 3654M it was delivered to 2006 ATC Squadron at Cheltenham on 2/4/43.
During 1946 this Tiger was handed over – without Air Ministry approval – to the Gloucester Flying Club, who promptly spent £425 in restoring G-ADIH to flying condition, and naturally thought the Tiger their property. However, the Air Ministry then stepped in and requested the return of their aircraft – the matter being eventually settled by a payment by the Gloucester Flying Club of £50 to Air Ministry. G-ADIH remained on the Civil Register until 20/11/52, when it was destroyed during a landing accident near Ramsgate.
G-ADII c/n 3350 impressed as BB701
Served with 6 E.F.T.S. throughout the war years, and was released to 9 MU Cosford on 30/8/46. Remaining in storage until 6/4/49, when it was delivered to 9 R.F.S. Doncaster. Destroyed on 22/4/50, when it spun into a sports field near Hansworth.
G-ADIJ c/n 3351 impressed as BB788
Used at Sywell throughout the war, and taken to 9 MU Cosford on 19/7/45, for disposal. Sold to Marshalls of Cambridge in 4/46, and restored to [crossed out]the the[/crossed out]
[page break]
to/ [sic]
the Civil Register as G-ADIJ. In December 1952 G-ADIJ was sold abroad to New Zealand as ZK-BBS and was converted for crop spraying. Used in this role by Northern Aviation Limited, ZK-BBS was destroyed in a crash near Dargaville on, [sic] 15/12/55.
No details at present for G-ADEZ – may have been lost prior to 1939. Further information on the aircraft that you flew will be passed in due course.
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
Aircraft histories of Tiger Moth aircraft flown by Denis Clyde-Smith
Description
An account of the resource
Histories of twelve Tiger Moth aircraft flown by Denis Clyde Smith while undergoing ab-initio training at Sywell.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Five page typewritten document
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Personal research
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MClydeSmithD39856-160919-04
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
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Oxfordshire
England--West Midlands
England--Wolverhampton
England--Lincolnshire
England--Stamford
England--Norfolk
England--Thetford
England--Cumbria
England--Carlisle
England--Berkshire
England--Theale (West Berkshire)
England--Northamptonshire
England--Northampton
England--Buckinghamshire
England--High Wycombe
England--Surrey
England--Godalming
England--Norwich
England--Wiltshire
Scotland--Moray
Scotland--Angus
Scotland--Arbroath
England--Cheshire
England--Warrington
England--Devon
England--Plymouth
England--Yorkshire
England--Doncaster
England--Hampshire
England--Gosport
England--Bedfordshire
England--Bedford
England--Gloucestershire
England--Cheltenham
England--Cirencester
England--Chippenham (Wiltshire)
England--Shropshire
England--Shrewsbury
Scotland--Ross and Cromarty
Scotland--Invergordon
England--Andover
Wales--Mid Glamorgan
Wales--Bridgend
Wales--Dyfed
Wales--Aberystwyth
England--Kent
England--Ramsgate
Germany
New Zealand
New Zealand--Dargaville
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Cambridge
England--London
England--Hounslow
England--Cumberland
England--Middlesex
England--Staffordshire
England--Royal Wootton Bassett
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1955
1960
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending review
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Steve Baldwin
Flying Training School
RAF Brize Norton
RAF Clyffe Pypard
RAF Cosford
RAF Cottesmore
RAF Feltwell
RAF Kemble
RAF Lossiemouth
RAF Stormy Down
RAF Sywell
RAF Towyn
Tiger Moth
training
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/156/1985/PCushwayAW16020027.2.jpg
1c47c21d86e7fb19039eb8846f6f01cc
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/156/1985/PCushwayAW16020028.2.jpg
7febd853b070ae5effe483b93c75873d
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
Cushway, Arthur
A W Cushway
Description
An account of the resource
55 items. This collection concerns Sergeant Arthur William Cushway (1913 - 1942, 1285306 Royal Air Force). Arthur Cushway was a wireless operator / air gunner and was killed when his Stirling from RAF Waterbeach failed to return from an operation to Hamburg. The collection contains a photograph album, his service record and 52 photographs. <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Rosemary Lester and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.<br /><br />Additional information on Arthur Cushway is available via the <a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/206596/">IBCC Losses Database</a>.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-07-04
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
Cushway, AW
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
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
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
Two men sitting on a gate
Description
An account of the resource
Two men in shorts are sitting on a wooden gate. On the reverse 'The Gypsies Lt. Burstead Whitsun 1939.' and '? Ted Seager'
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1939
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One b/w photograph
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PCushwayAW16020027, PCushwayAW16020028
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Civilian
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Photograph
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.
1939
Is Part Of
A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included.
Cushway, Arthur. Family photographs
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/141/1597/PBanksP15010115.2.jpg
78b888c3edb973ef41e382b9d41a3a82
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
Banks, Peter. Album one
Description
An account of the resource
134 items. The album contains pictures taken at RAF Methwold and Feltwell, Battles in France as part of the RAF Advanced Air Striking Force in 1940, 2 Group target photographs, and Venturas and Photographic Reconnaissance Unit Spitfires. There are also a number of aerial photographs of cities and targets in the Ruhr and the Low countries taken at low level during a sightseeing Cooks tour after VE Day. <br /><br />Return to the <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/140">main collection</a>.
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.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One photograph album
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PBanksP1501
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
P.R.U.
[photograph]
S/Ldr Alistair Taylor, DSO & Bar D.F.C. & 2 Bars
[missing letter]2 camouflage unit,
[missing letter]1 PDU,
[missing letter]212 Sqdn ‘A’&’B’ flights
[missing letter]1 P.R.U.
Dec 1939 – may 1941
Blue ‘Spitfire’ Recce
[missing words]
BARS TO HIS D.F.C.
The R.A.F.’s ace cameraman, Flight Lieut. Alisrair Lennox Taylor, is the first airman of the war to win a second bar to the D.F.C.
[photograph]
FLT.-LIEUT. TAYLOR.
He won the Cross last July, and in September was awarded the first bar for photographic reconnaissance of the Dortmund-Ems canal aqueduct.
Flight Lieut. Taylor is 24. He carried out the Kiel reconnaissance considered by the Navy the most valuable of the war.
Another air award announced yesterday is the D.S.O. to Flight Lieut. Eric C. LeMesurier, who already holds the D.F.C.
[photograph]
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
Squadron Leader Alistair Taylor DSO and bar DFC and 2 bars
Photographic Reconnaissance Unit
Description
An account of the resource
Top left an air-to-air view of a reconnaissance Spitfire flying right to left with cloud background.
Bottom left air-to-air view of the bottom of a reconnaissance spitfire with Invasion stripes. The camera openings can be seen in the rear fuselage.
Top right a white note 'S/Ldr Alistair Taylor DSO & bar DFC & 2 bars, Camouflage Unit, 1PDU, [?] 212 Sqdn A & B Flight, Dec 1939 - May 1941, Blue 'Spitfire' Recce'.
Bottom right newspaper cutting explaining that Flight Lieutenant Alistair Lennox Taylor was the first airman of the war to win a second bar to DFC for photographic reconnaissance of the Dortmund Ems Canal. On the left a photograph of Flt Lt Taylor.
Title Caption 'P.R.U.'
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Two b/w photographs, one note and one newspaper cutting mounted on an album page
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Photograph
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PBanksP15010115
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
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
1941
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Steve Baldwin
aircrew
Distinguished Flying Cross
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Photographic Reconnaissance Unit
pilot
Spitfire
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/141/1349/PBanksP15010001.1.jpg
94f8bab58613ac7a00359d12b38a0234
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
Banks, Peter. Album one
Description
An account of the resource
134 items. The album contains pictures taken at RAF Methwold and Feltwell, Battles in France as part of the RAF Advanced Air Striking Force in 1940, 2 Group target photographs, and Venturas and Photographic Reconnaissance Unit Spitfires. There are also a number of aerial photographs of cities and targets in the Ruhr and the Low countries taken at low level during a sightseeing Cooks tour after VE Day. <br /><br />Return to the <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/140">main collection</a>.
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.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One photograph album
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PBanksP1501
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Album cover
Description
An account of the resource
Dark orange album cover with Royal Air Force motto, Pilots Wings, intertwined initial with J and H inside a B and dates.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Front cover of album
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
PBanksP15010001
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
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1945
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/131/1318/PBascombeEJ1505.2.jpg
56666f5e189a43efd14754c7966627c1
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
Jones, Ron and Bascombe, Betty
E J Bascombe
Ron Jones
R Jones
Description
An account of the resource
Nine items. An oral history interview and a series of photographs and documents detailing the lives of Ron Jones (646212 Royal Air Force) and his wife Elizabeth J Bascombe (now). A document she wrote describes how she met Ron, their short marriage and his disappearance. <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Elizabeth Bascombe and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff. <br /><br />Additional information on Ron Jones is available via the <a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/112508/">IBCC Losses Database</a>.
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
Bascombe, EJ
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
2015-01-01
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
Ron Jones with step brother and cousin
1939-40 Ron with Step brother Sydney Nicholas (Army) and cousin Albert Venables (Navy)
Description
An account of the resource
Three quarter length portrait of a soldier, Sydney Nichols, a sailor, Albert Venables and Ron Jones. All three in respective uniforms. On the reverse '1939-40 Ron with Stepbroth Sydney Nicholas (Army) and cousin Albert Venables (Navy)'
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One b/w photograph
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PBascombeEJ1505
PBascombeEJ1506
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
British Army
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.
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Photograph
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/110/1084/MBubbGJ1477939-160322-08.2.pdf
d06b799e0035e2d29c877b99ce5fd836
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
Bubb, George
G J Bubb
Description
An account of the resource
13 items. Collection covers the wartime service of Leading Aircraftsman George Joseph Bubb (b. 1911, 1477909 Royal Air Force), an instrument fitter on 44 Squadron. the collection contains notebooks from training courses, a service bible and 1946 diary as well as the contents of a scrapbook which include personal documents and photographs of people and bombing operations.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Dave Pilsworth and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-03-22
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
Bubb, GJ
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
Royal Air Force Bible
Description
An account of the resource
Black leather front cover has RAF badge. Inside page two has message from the King extolling bible, page three name and address. Last two pages blank.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1939-09-15
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Book with front and rear cover with three double pages
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
MBubbGJ1477939-160322-08
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
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
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.
faith
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2511/44436/BGleedVAClareDv1.1.jpg
fdcbc015a9ee1505415b7381178bc6a2
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
Clare, Derek
Description
An account of the resource
7 items. The collection concerns Group Captain Derek Clare DFC (1920 - 2006, 103536 Royal Air Force) and contains photographs, a small dog mascot and escape compass. He flew operations as a navigator with 75 Squadron and served with 524 Squadron, Coastal Command. Derek joined the Royal Air Force in 1939 and retired with the rank of Group Captain in 1974.
The collection was donated to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Victoria Gleed and catalogued by Lynn Corrigan.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-07-31
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
Clare, D
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1945-03-01
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
Derek's service career
Description
An account of the resource
A summary of Derek's career in the Royal Air Force including an explanation why he he carried a rabbit foot mascot in his flying suit. Explains that his flying log books are held by the National War Museum in London. Describes Derek's disappointment that those who served in Bomber Command were side-lined after the war.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Victoria Gleed
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1945-03-01
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Zimbabwe
Egypt
Sudan
Kenya
Great Britain
England--London
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 Air Force. Coastal Command
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Personal research
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One typewritten sheet
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BGleedVAClareDv1
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.
75 Squadron
aircrew
Distinguished Flying Cross
navigator
superstition
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/504/10775/PDavisRS1604.1.jpg
3c0b1cae022bad63d50d98f5562ac423
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/504/10775/ADavisRS160807.1.mp3
8ec4918107465e2d762c79a495e3aa52
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
Davis, Ronald
Ronald Samuel Davis
R S Davis
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Davis, R
Description
An account of the resource
Eight items. Collection concerns with Ronald Davis (1922 - 2017, 1231181 Royal Air Force). He served as ground crew with 49 and 617 Squadrons. Collection contains three oral history interviews as well as photographs of people and aircraft.
The collection was catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
TO: Right. Good morning. Good afternoon. Or good evening. Whatever the case may be. This interview is being filmed for the International Bomber Command Centre. My name is Thomas Ozel and this interview is being recorded on the 7th of August 2016.
RD: Thank you. My name is Ronald Davis. I’m ninety four years of age and I was born on the 2nd of March 1922 at a maternity hospital on the corner of City Road and Old Street which is in the City of London and which makes me a true Cockney. Born within the sound of Bow bells. My parents [pause] I can speak about were [pause] sorry, stop it there. Oh it doesn’t matter.
TO: No. You can just look at me. You don’t have to talk to the camera.
RD: I can talk to you.
TO: That’s fine.
RD: Right. And my mother was a little bit above working class but my father was very working class. He was a lady’s tailor which he hated from the day he started to the day he finished just before he died in his forties. And they lived in a humble two rooms in this house in New North Road. And shortly afterwards we moved to Mile End where my father’s mother and family lived. To be closer to the family. I was brought up in very humble surroundings and I said at times we had more dinner times than dinners. And my dad was hardworking but, but the tailoring trade was seasonal so when they worked they earned good money but when they were not working there was nothing coming in at all. I don’t think there was unemployment pay in those days. I was educated at a junior school where for reasons that my parents never understood I never passed the eleven plus which was the exam at that time and I went to a senior boy’s school in Bethnal Green where we moved when I was about seven years old. And this school in Bethnal Green gave me a very good general education and I found I did fairly well in that standard but I was not grammar school standard. I started work, aged fourteen as a solicitor’s office boy earning fifteen shillings and now seventy fifty five pence per week of which I gave me mother ten shillings towards my upkeep and kept the rest, less the deductions for myself which included my daily fare to the office which was a penny each way and, and for my lunches. After a year my boss called me in and said, ‘Davis, you’ve been very good for a year. You’re been a very good servant but we’re going to get another little boy in for fifteen shillings a week and you’d better find yourself another job. Not because we’re not satisfied with you but because you need a replacement and we have no place to promote you.’ I then went off and found, through an employment agency a job in another solicitor’s office in Chancery Lane, London. Central London as a junior clerk at twenty five shillings a week which was a very big increase from fifteen shillings. And I was there until the, towards the end of 1940 when I was eighteen and had decided that I wanted to go in to the Royal Air Force. I felt sure the only way I could get in was to volunteer which I did at the recruitment office in Whitehall. I was shortly afterwards interviewed and sent to RAF Cardington for assessment and within about six weeks I was called up, sent back to RAF Cardington for outfitting and a general description of what the RAF did and the discipline and appearance and the way you spoke to officers and things of that sort. I think I was there for about fourteen days and I was then sent to Bournemouth for my, what we called square bashing which is, which is learning to march and learning to exercise, general discipline and behaviour and things of that sort. In Bournemouth there was no RAF station. They, the, the RAF had taken over all the boarding houses that people had used at that time for their holidays. They were set up as bedrooms with washing facilities, a shared bathroom and, and we were there for three months altogether. I was given a room in this lovely boarding house overlooking Alum Chine with a view of the sea. It really was upmarket. And for the first time in my life, and I was eighteen years old, I had a room to myself. Because otherwise I had to share with my, my other brother and my two sisters who were all younger than me. And there I learned discipline. I learned drill. I learned exercise which I’d already done because I belonged to a Boy’s Club in the East End of London where we’d had lots of sports. Cricket. Football. Table tennis and things of that sort. So I knew about fitness and that. When I’d finished my training, incidentally my drill instructor in Bournemouth was a man called Sergeant Sam Bartram who in fact was a goal keeper for the England soccer team and also was the captain of a London soccer team called Charlton Athletic. Which at that time was in the First Division so he was very well respected and known by all the lads. In fact, as an aside most of the professional footballers or professional sportsman were drill instructors in in the RAF. It was very handy to have them on tap. From Bournemouth I was sent to RAF Halton which was a permanent RAF station and was Number 1 School of Technical Training. And there I learned all about aeroplanes. And a fitter airframe did everything on the aeroplane except the engines, except the armoury and except the electrician and something else. I can’t remember at the moment. But every other part of the aeroplane, the hydraulics, the pneumatics, the upkeep of the aeroplane, the refuelling, everything of that sort was done by the fitter airframe. And sitting on top of a bomber in the middle of Lincolnshire on a cold winter’s day filling up was, was no joke apart from the possible danger. At Halton I finished my course and became a, that was six months and I was immediately posted to RAF Scampton in Lincolnshire. Which at that time housed, every aerodrome had two squadrons. Scampton at that time housed 49 Squadron and 83 Squadron. Both flying with twelve Handley Page Hampdens which were, strangely enough made in Cricklewood Broadway in London. When I arrived there, there were a lot of, I arrived there in April or May 1942 and and when I arrived there there were lots of trainees coming in. And at one stage we probably had as many as twelve airframe fitters working on one aeroplane which was really not enough because one or two could manage. But this is when the RAF were turning out lots and lots of people and they were being trained and sent off all over the world. It so happens that I remained there all my time caring for these Handley Page bombers. My particular bomber was P for Peter and I obviously had various, various pilots. And one in particular who was with me for a long time was a pilot called Aussie Holt. He was an Australian and wore a navy blue uniform as opposed to the air force blue uniform so he was rather distinctive around the squadron I think. He was the only Australian pilot there at that time. And he was with me for quite a long time but unfortunately he was lost on the, on the Gneisenau and Scharnhorst German battleships that went through the Channel unexpectedly. And I remember it was just after Christmas. I don’t think it was even New Year ’43 that we were loaded up with certain bombs that we were going to use when these bombers came out and then they were the wrong ones and before they could take off we had to do a very quick job of changing the bomb load so that they could go off on this raid. Unfortunately that was the worst occasion of any time that I remember on any squadron where we lost seven of our twelve aeroplanes. Including Aussie Holt who I grieved over for quite a while because I’d got to know him very well and he like me and we we, we were always chatting about various things. When you’re on a squadron it’s very difficult to adjust to losing your pilot but you had to get on and the more you got on the less you thought of it. But at times when crews were speaking about various things and we mentioned his name and there would be a pause for us to catch our breaths as it were and think about something else. You, you didn’t become attached to them personally like family but they were your crew and as a result of that it, it there was some effect. At least from me. I’m not sure whether it was the same for everybody else but at least for me it had some effect and often thinking of their family way back in Australia losing this wonderful guy who was their son. And then in, I think I said 1943 that, it must have been 1942 because early in ’43 49 Squadron was moved from Scampton because they were coming in to lay runways and the aerodrome obviously couldn’t be used during that time. So most of us were sent off to, not with 49 Squadron because I think when 49 finished with the Hampdens it didn’t come to life again for some time again later. And I know, and most of the crews were moved from Scampton to Waddington or Coddington Hall just a few miles away outside Lincoln where we became the 1661 Conversion Unit. Which was the place where they trained pilots to go from two engine to four engine bombers. Although, apart from the four engine bomber there were two-engined Manchesters. Not Lancasters. Manchesters. Which formed part of the early, early crews but they were a much bigger aircraft than the Hampden and therefore the size of two engines or four engines wasn’t so important as the size of the aeroplane. Can I stop there for a minute?
TO: Certainly.
RD: I’m running away here.
TO: Certainly. Yeah.
RD: Eh?
TO: Yeah.
RD: Ok. Now, am I doing it as you —
TO: Yeah. That’s great. Perfect.
RD: Yeah. Ok.
TO: Of course if you want to stop or take a break just say so.
RD: Yeah.
TO: Ok. Do you want to take a break now?
RD: Yeah. Please.
TO: Sure.
[recording paused]
RD: One thing that I, I want to tell you about was how, how I got to the air force. In, in 1938 when I was about sixteen I had a week’s, two weeks holiday. No. One weeks holiday from work. And I, I couldn’t afford to go away so my grandmother, I told you my grandmother who lived in Golders Green just down the road here invited me to come and stay with her for a week. So I cycled from the East End of London where we were still living to Golders Green which was a very upmarket suburban area and, on my bike which was my proud possession. And she looked after me for, for that week. And each day I, she would give me a bag of sandwiches and some drinks and biscuits and things and fruit and I would go off for the day. And I only got, on the first day, as far as Hendon Aerodrome which is just up the road from here now. And there I saw this RAF aerodrome with little tiny Tiger Moths and various other small aeroplanes. Biplanes. Single engine. And I sat on a stile all day long watching aeroplanes landing and taking off. And I think it was at that time that I decided that if ever I’m going to go in to the forces and there was talk of war at that time, I would want to go in the air force. And that’s why I joined up voluntarily. Yeah.
Other: Hello.
[recording paused]
TO: So, in the 1930s were you worried about Hitler at all?
RD: Oh yes. In, in the 1930s I was very worried about fascists of all sorts and kinds. I was brought up in the East End of London where there were very, very two powerful factions. The communists and the fascists. The British Union of Fascists had a very big unit in in Bethnal Green. And when I was sixteen, that would be in 1938 there had been all sorts of demonstrations. Particularly in Jewish areas. In the Jewish area where I lived there were confrontations between communists and fascists and communists and Jews. Young Jewish men. It’s a very interesting, you’ve caught me on a very good subject actually. It was a very interesting course. My, I am Jewish and my parents were born in England. My grandparents came to England in the middle 1890s. 1895 and one 1898. And my parents were born in England and educated in England. So I wasn’t first generation. I was second generation. Most of my friends would have been first generation. Parents not born in England. And as a result of that they had a different attitude to me. They always wanted to run away because that had been indoctrinated into them by their parents. My dad said, ‘You don’t run away from anybody. You stand up to anybody and confront them because a bully is always afraid of somebody who might confront him.’ My dad told me that from as long as I can remember. And as a result if I met fascists I didn’t, I didn’t run away. I, and I used to, when I was sixteen I never actually joined the communist party. I was never, never a communist as such but I used to go to communist party meetings because they were the people who confronted the fascists. So, yeah we were aware of Hitler but of course we knew nothing at that time about the concentration camps. Nothing whatsoever. That didn’t come out until well into the war. Probably ’43 ’44. Even ’43 there was very little. ’44 and ’45 there was a little bit of talk about it. It was only when we got to the camps, when the British Army and the American Army and the Russian Army got to the camps that we found out what it was all about. So, yes, definitely. We, we knew all about Hitler. And we also, I mean anybody with a common sense realised that a war was coming because it, it was you kept reading about these things. That Hitler had walked in to the Sudetenland and Hitler had walked in to Czechoslovakia and you automatically thought well where the hell’s he going to go to next? So yes I was personally very conscious. I’m not sure whether the same would apply to everybody else. That was my —
TO: And what did you think of the Munich Agreement?
RD: You have to remember I was very young. So I was seventeen and the communist party at the time and I associated with a number of people in that party. I was never active as such but I mainly saw them as the anti-fascists. Because you have to remember at that time neither the Labour Party nor the Conservative Party in Britain were anti-fascist. Were not anti-fascist. They were trying to come to terms with them. They weren’t anti. It was only the Communist Party that was anti-fascist. And for that reason. I ceased to have anything to do with the Communist Party when they made the alliance with, with Hitler in 1939 I think. 1938 or ’39. Sorry. Forgive me. What was your question again?
TO: No. You’ve already answered it. Which was what were your thoughts on the Munich Agreement?
RD: Yeah. The Munich Agreement. The Communist Party said it was the greatest political carve up in history. Where Chamberlain had been deceived. But the general opinion I think of the national newspapers was that this was going to solve all the problems.
TO: And were you ever in an air raid shelter during the bombing?
RD: Yes. We, in 1940 just before I joined up. February 1940. No. January. December/January ‘39 and ’40 my parents moved from the East End of London to Ilford where they rented a property with my mother’s brother. And there was about eight of us living in this three bedroom house with one bathroom and [laughs] but we were very comfortable there. Now, my dad, who in 1938 developed tuberculosis and couldn’t walk was in a [pause] I can’t remember what they called the hospitals where these people are. However, he was in a hospital, isolation hospital at Colindale here because it, it was terribly contagious at that time living with somebody with tuberculosis because of, you could catch it very easily. So he was in this hospital in 1938 to 1939 and when the war started my dad was sent home which made another one in this house and we all had to be very careful about it. Now, he made the decision that we would stay in our house. On the ground floor. We’d all get up and we’d be on the ground floor protected as far as we could be from a bombing raid and that we would not go in to a shelter. First of all it would have been no good for my dad to be down in those conditions. And secondly I think he was a very brave man to make that decision. To put his family at risk. His view was if we’re all going let’s go together rather than one at a time. So we never went to a public shelter. But I can remember the public shelters. I can remember going down them. I can remember when, before I joined up and after I joined up whenever I had leave and went up into town for a dance or something of that sort thousands and thousands of people sleeping down in in tube stations along the platforms. After about 9 o’clock at night they used to bring their stuff down and when you got off a train you had a narrow area that we walked through with all these people, all these families laying themselves out we mattresses like camping out. Which never really appeal to me [unclear] And my dad always said to me, ‘If you’re going out you’ve got to come home. You don’t stay out because there’s bombing.’ So that’s what we did. When my dad said that you did it. So I can. Very often walking through streets with shrapnel and all sorts of stuff falling down. So yes I did know about air raids and air raid shelters. There was one occasion when I was on leave and this would have been 1944 when I got to the Gants Hill near where my parents lived there. A road just off there. It was all blocked off by police because an aeroplane, a German aeroplane had come down on the corner of my parent’s street and was on fire above. Stuck in an empty shop. And I said to the policeman who was blocking the road, ‘You must let me through because my house is just down that road where, where the aeroplane is. I want to see if my mother and brother and sisters are well.’ My father had died by then. And he said, ‘Yes, go on.’ I was in uniform. He said, ‘Go on. You go through.’ So I went through and this aeroplane had apparently come, been shot down and had come straight down my mother’s road, scraping it’s wheels on the rooves of the houses and then plopped on to this empty shop. A miracle. Plopped onto this empty shop on the corner. There was no bombs exploded but the aeroplane made a bit of a mess of the building as you could imagine. And when I got to my front garden, a very small garden, there was a parcel lying there. And I knew it was the dinghy that had fallen out of the wing of this aeroplane as it was coming down. And I called my brother, I said, ‘Come on Ted. Let’s take this dinghy in. We’ll keep this as a souvenir.’ Which was a stupid thing to do but never mind. And my brother and I were trying to drag it in and my mother and two sisters were on the other side of the door, ‘Don’t bring it in here. it’s a bomb.’ You know [laughs] So, we, we left the dinghy where it was. And the other thing I can remember is the, one of the crew stuck in a tree outside, right outside of our house. One of our neighbours was trying to hit him with a, with a shovel. Calling him all, all the unknown names you’d heard previously. Yeah. So that’s, that’s what I remember about that.
TO: And what were your, when you were in the RAF at an airfield with aircraft on operations what were your everyday duties?
RD: My everyday duties were there were no days off. On a bomber command station in my 5 Group we worked seven days a week from eight till five. Eight to five. And every third day you did a twenty four shift because during the day we worked on the aeroplanes and prepared them for night raids when they were. And then a skeleton crew of about four or five would carry on after 6 o’clock through the night to see the aeroplane off or see them back or both. And then refuel them, prepare, repair any damage. Slight damages. Large damages went to the hangar but small damage was done out in the open on the airfield. And we would finish at four, five, 6 o’clock in the morning depending on what time they got back. And when we were finished we went off to bed and you then had the rest of that day off. So I would normally sleep till mid-day and then go in to Lincoln or one of the local villages just to have a bite to eat and a drink. Most of the boys used to go for a drink but I used to go for some food first. I had great problems with coping with the food. It was very poor. Very poor. I’m not going to say I was ever hungry hungry. But I wasn’t ever satisfied with the food. And at one time I discovered that there were mushrooms growing out on the airfield. And I had a friend of mine who was a country boy who knew the difference between mushrooms and those that you can eat and that you can’t eat. And he taught them to me. And I used to get up early in the morning before duties and collect two pounds of mushrooms out on the airfield. And I then used to take them to the, the NAAFI manageress used to live in a accommodation on the site. The NAAFI. And I had an arrangement with her that if I brought her two pounds of mushrooms she would cook me a pound on four slices of toast and keep the other pound for herself which she was very happy to do. It took people an awful long time to wonder what I was doing at the NAAFI manageress’s abode [laughs] With no other purpose other than to have my mushrooms.
TO: How would you describe morale?
RD: Morale was up and down. Morale was up and down. Most of the time morale was high. But you would get the occasional misery who would try to alter things. Speaking personally I think it’s in my nature to not, not to moan and have discipline. Self-discipline. But as for morale I never saw anything. I never saw anything that would make me worried. At any time. You’d get an occasionally a guy going a bit off the rails and let it all out but, you know, the next day he was fine, but morale generally was good. Yeah. I’m getting a feeling there’s a bit of something that shouldn’t be there in these questions. Is it my imagination?
TO: What? Am I asking questions I shouldn’t ask?
RD: No. No. The things that you’re asking me about we we never really had time to worry about morale.
TO: Ok.
RD: Morale was there. You only had a little bit of moaning and morale was there. And the discipline was there but the discipline off the airfield amongst the administration staff where you always had to have your buttons polished and boots clean and that sort of thing did not apply on the airfield. The, the NCOs were lenient with, I mean you saw the way we were dressed. Well, no officer would have passed that dress but that’s how we were. The discipline was lax as such out on the airfield because we didn’t have time and there was no necessity for it. Who was seeing us except the other crews? Yeah.
TO: And did you ever find out about the damage that the raids were causing?
RD: Yes. They would come back and say, ‘Oh we, we hit that target well and truly.’ Or they would come back and say, ‘I think we were in the wrong place,’ or something of that sort. But rarely did a crew tell us exactly what went on. What they told, were told at the debriefing after each bombing raid in the mess I do not know. But they would say, ‘No. We, we, I think we were in the wrong place today,’ or, ‘No. We hit this one. We really hit this one.’ But that sort of thing. As far as I can remember. If I think about it a bit more [pause] No. I, I can never say they sent us to the wrong target or anything of that sort. There was never anything of that sort.
TO: And what, how did you feel when you heard about the attack on the Ruhr dams?
RD: Well. I was involved in that obviously. I thought it was the greatest thing that ever happened. But it was a very, very, very costly exercise. A very costly exercise in the way of numbers of aircraft and numbers of crew that, that were killed. But it was a great puzzle to us because when the first aeroplanes arrived for the Dambuster raid we didn’t know what it was going to be. Hadn’t the faintest idea. Certainly didn’t know what we were going to carry. But one day — when an aeroplane, when a Lancaster flew over you knew the sound of it and invariably you didn’t look up. But if you heard a strange sound you would look up to see what it is. And these Lancasters came over with a strange sound. A different sound to the one that was usual. And when we looked up we saw they had no bomb doors. And so we automatically said, ‘Oh well, they’ve run out of bloody bomb doors again and they’re sending them out without bomb doors. We’ll have to fit them.’ But it was intended that that the bomb the round bomb was the base of where the bomb doors were. You couldn’t close the doors. It was so low they couldn’t close the bomb doors so they had to go without bomb doors and this thing was streamlined to comply with that. So that was the first thing we found out. That the new bombs were going to be without bomb doors. And we, we were extraordinarily proud of that. Extraordinarily proud of that. But as I say that was a massive, massive loss.
TO: So were you in 617 Squadron at the time —
RD: Yes.
TO: Of the raid.
RD: At the time. Yeah.
TO: After those losses did that affect morale?
RD: Sorry?
TO: Did those losses affect morale?
RD: No. No. No. We [pause] I think we were all very sad but there’s a difference between being sad and your morale. Oh no. At no time was our morale affected by that. So far as I know.
TO: And what do you, how did you feel when you heard about the rain on Hamburg in ’43?
RD: Well, I don’t know. We did dozens of raids on Hamburg. Which one are you speaking about?
TO: The one where there was the fire storm. When we first used Window.
RD: Oh yeah. Well, first of all you have to remember that the Germans made the first big firestorm in 1940 when they set fire to the City of London. So, so it wasn’t new. It had been done before. And so far as anybody in the RAF was concerned well bloody good, bloody shame you know. This war has got to be won. If that’s the way we’ve got to do it that’s the way we do it. I don’t quite think you realise how strong were feelings of Britain that we retaliate for all that we had been through for all that long winter. That long year. The Battle of Britain. You know, you, we had it all bottled up within us. No. No. No qualms whatever. No. Why should we? Why should we? We, we didn’t start it. We were trying to rid the world of a monster. No. I don’t see this view at all. I don’t see this view. I’m sorry but people may well think of it these days but conditions are rather different now to what they were. I mean do you realise how close we were to being overrun? If, if Hitler had had two penneth of guts he’d have walked straight into Britain and taken it over. We had no defence. Our army had lost its, all, all its equipment in, after Dunkirk. And if he’d have come straight across he would have walked straight into Britain and I mean there’s no knowing where or what have been after that. I don’t know who could. So you have to take all this into account when you think of raids like Hamburg. No. We had no qualms about them at all.
TO: Did you hear about how other campaigns of the war were going?
RD: Oh yes. There was no such, there might have been a bit of cover up here and there on certain losses or when they were made not quite so bad as they were. But generally speaking I am convinced that our press was as free as any press in the world. And newspapers didn’t like to publish bad news but, but we always got the bad news. No. I I don’t think. I might have been deceived about, but saying they used to say each time how many aircraft were lost on a raid in the morning new, ‘The RAF last night raided Hamburg with a thousand aeroplanes of Hampdens, Halifax, Manchesters, Lancasters, Halifaxes, Wellingtons. A thousand. Rustled up a thousand and they bombed Hamburg and six didn’t return.’ You know. It was announced like that. It was never that four hundred never returned. You know. There was never anything of that sort. They were, they were small numbers. Perhaps ten out of a thousand or twenty but they were numbers of that sort. But, but when on the Dambuster raid we lost I think it was, I think it was eight. Yeah. That was a heavy loss. And that would have been announced. They might have said that three were shot down. The crew had bailed out and they were prisoners and four are missing. Or something of that sort. Yeah. So I had no doubts whatever that the press did announce. That we were informed. Yeah.
TO: And what are your thoughts on the bombing of Dresden?
RD: Bombing of, well my thoughts on the bombing of Dresden I think I have no qualms whatever. I have heard the stories about what Dresden did and that it was only for peaceful purposes but we knew for a fact that pieces of the machinery for the rockets that were being dropped on Britain were made, manufactured, designed, designed and manufactured in that part of the world. So therefore Dresden meant nothing. I mean, every time anyone asks me I say well tell me about the City of London that was destroyed in one bombing raid with fire that burned the whole lot out. And I saw the city after the bombing so I know the whole bloody chute went in one night.
TO: Did you ever actually see any of the V-2s when they attacked London?
RD: I I I saw the V-1s. The chug chug chug. You couldn’t ever see the V-2s. The first thing you knew about the V-2s was, was it landing. The V-1s were, were these chug chug chug things and you knew that whilst the engine was running you were alright but the moment the engine cut out, when it turned to drop then start worrying because you’re, you’re in line for it. I’d heard lots of V-1s and also I’d heard recordings on the radio of them going over during the news. But V-2s you never saw. You only knew when they landed. I never heard one explode but I’d seen where some of them exploded and they really knocked it to smithereens.
TO: Were the V-2s — sorry.
RD: Sorry?
TO: Were the V-2s quite a shock to everyone?
RD: No. Because I think we were warned that the Germany had these things. We were warned beforehand that that they would be coming at some time and they did. But again I don’t think morale was affected by that. I can’t recall any one family that I met at any time during the war who had lost faith in in what we were doing. Right. I, I really can’t. Because even those that supported the, the British Union of Fascists, the BUF, even those, they were still British to the core. They never converted to, to German. You know, the British Union of Fascists they didn’t want to lose England. If if you can understand what I’m saying. No. No. So there was never anything of that to my, to my knowledge and I’d be very distressed to hear somebody say that there was.
TO: And why do you think Bomber Command were treated the way they were after the war?
RD: I think Churchill made quite an error of judgement. Something must have happened at some time between Harris and Churchill. Or Harris and some minister which, which, which turned Churchill and I think Churchill regretted for the rest of his days although I don’t think he ever said so publicly. He said one or two things but he didn’t say fully and publicly that he regretted saying it. But I was annoyed that Bomber Command was not recognised for what it did and it did a hell of a lot for Britain during a time when army, the years when the army was inactive until D-Day. I mean we were the only enemy that the enemy knew about. And I was very annoyed that Bomber Command was not recognised with a special award and that we who served in Bomber Command never had one single badge to show that we were Bomber Command. On the other hand Fighter Command never had one single badge to show it won the Battle of Britain. But those things should have been recognised. And personally I was distressed from day one that I mean, you know not distressed but I’m sorry that the service that we gave was not recognised in a better way than it was by just giving us a general service medal.
TO: And what’s your best memory from the war?
RD: My best memory is camaraderie. My best memory was that I was very lucky to be where I was doing what I was on a active squadron going to the enemy when I realised that for years and years and years other guys in the services were sitting around scratching themselves, doing very little but training ready for D-Day which didn’t come until 1943 — four. 1944. So that was my greatest memory. I was proud. I was proud to serve. I was proud to be there and I was proud to be on an operational squadron. I went in a little, I really was a little boy at eighteen and I really came out a man knowing what the world was. And which prepared me for my later career where I very fortunately made a, made a success. To give me what I’ve got today from, from that very humble start.
TO: And were there ever any occasions where aircraft crashed near your airfield?
RD: Oh yes. Oh yes. But you have to remember that some of the pilots when they arrive are novice pilots. When they arrive on the squadron for the first time they’ve had their training, they’ve had good training from small aircraft to large aircraft. But when they get on to a squadron with a crew and the bomb load and all the rest of it it’s a little bit of a different story until you’ve been through it several times. So I’ve seen lots of aeroplanes crash on landing for no apparent reason. When I was at Scampton with the Hampdens one aeroplane over shot the airfield. Remember when we were on Hampdens there was only grass. There was no concrete airstrip. So although there was a marked out place for aircraft to land and the Drem lights, Drem lights are lights that you can see from sixty seventy eighty feet which you can’t see from up above. And they used to come in on those. That’s another story. When they came back from a raid and there had been snow the Drem lights were covered up by the snow. So an aeroplane coming in on to a snow covered airfield could not see the Drem lights. So on those occasions ground crew would have to go out. There would be about fifteen every fifty yards. They would have one man every fifty yards with a goose necked, goose necked oil can with paraffin in that we would light when we got the signal. Number 1 got the signal from, from the conning tower to light his lamp and the other fifteen would, would light it and you would stand there in the freezing cold in the middle of an airfield hunched up waiting to get the light to light yours. And then you would light your lamp, oil lamp. Then run across the runway. Light the other one on the other side. So make a path for the aeroplane to land and as soon as he landed you put the lamp out. Run across and put the other one on. Wait for the next one to come. It was so primitive it was the only way you could do it if there was snow. What was the other question that I, that I —
TO: The question was what crashes did you see?
RD: Oh yes. Then, then onwards I interrupted it. One night, and bearing in mind we landed on grass and one aeroplane for reasons unknown, I don’t know why but it overshot the perimeter fence and went in to a field that belonged to a farmer further along. And this aeroplane unfortunately ran into about twenty heifers. Cows. Massive cows. And when we got there you couldn’t tell humans from animals. And that was the most horrible thing I have ever experienced in my life. We, we didn’t have to touch them. The medical crew did that. But to see this mixture of animals and humans was something that I’m very, very reluctant to talk about at any time as it’s very distressing. That, that’s what I can tell you about that.
TO: And were you quite friendly with the air crews?
RD: Generally speaking [coughs] generally speaking yes. It was, my aeroplane normally had the same crew. So that we knew them and we would chat about this, that and the other and things that young men talk about. It also helped them to keep their minds off what they were about to do. And, and then they would go off and we would welcome them back and all the rest of it. Sometimes when your crew wasn’t there it was a strange crew. Your crew was off on leave or something of that sort. Then a strange crew would fly the aeroplane. And I would do nothing. And they would just nod or wink and say, ‘How are you doing?’ And that that’s it, but we never had, if we saw them out in the pub we might say hello and have a little chat with them but we never had a lot to do with them because they were in a different mess to us. You know, half of them were officers so they were entirely different. The others were senior NCOs and again that wasn’t a mess that I used. So, we, we never saw them. And very occasionally did they actually come down to the flight because there was nothing, the flight is where the aeroplanes were dispersed. Way out across the field. They very rarely had to come down. Occasionally they would have to do compass swinging and things of that sort on the ground when they, two of them would come out. The pilot and the engineer and they would move the aircraft around on the airfield for various reasons. But again when they went off they didn’t, sometimes we went with them. I would often tow an aeroplane by the back wheel for compass swinging. We had to test, test the compass. Then the aircrew didn’t do it. I would do it with the compass. We also unofficially used to move the aircraft on the ground from one spot to another. It was not officially allowed but but we did and we also had a wonderful system that when aircraft had been repaired the engineers went up on the test. Which was, we didn’t make mistakes that way. And so I used to quite, fly quite a lot and yeah then then you would be more involved with the crews. But other than that we never saw a lot of them because there was never an occasion.
TO: Ok.
RD: But they were always friendly. Always appreciated. If there was sometimes some aircraft used to have a little peculiarity then you would tell them, ‘Watch that one because, it’s alright but you know it might need looking at. Let us know.’ Yeah.
TO: And what did you think of Arthur Harris?
RD: I thought he was my hero. He was my hero. He was. I mean I only saw him three times I think during, during the whole of my career but we knew him and we used to get orders and things of sort signed by him. But he was my hero. He was the greatest man that there was born. There was a Group Captain Whitworth. Now, how did I remember that name? A Group Captain Whitworth who was the senior officer at Scampton at that time who was the station commander. That’s the two squadrons. He was detached from either squadron. The wing commander was the, was the senior man in my squadron. And, and he was in charge of Scampton and I, he was a great disciplinarian. A bit of a pain in the arse sometimes but he was a very good man. And then I had a senior officer, Squadron Leader Bell whose family owned the Express Dairies. I don’t know whether that means anything to you but Express Dairies delivered milk to every house in Britain, and his family owned that outfit. And when I was demobilised and I was taking some exams for the Law Society I needed something signed to prove that I’d done something. And I looked him up after the war and he was delighted to see me and help me. Helped me very much. And you know I felt I was imposing on him but he assured me that he was glad to do it to an old comrade. And he gave me a reference that I needed for one of my exams to prove what I’d done. So yeah but Harris was my hero. Yeah. Yeah.
TO: How much time have we got? It’s about —
RD: It’s alright. Another ten minutes.
TO: Ok.
RD: Ten minutes. Yeah.
TO: Ok. Yeah. There a Bomber Command Centre form I’ll need you to sign afterwards if that’s ok.
RD: Yeah.
TO: I just don’t want to trespass on your time.
RD: Yeah. Yeah.
TO: I can see you’re going to lunch. When you were, on the occasions when you did go flying in the aircraft what were conditions like on board?
RD: In what way?
TO: Well was it very cramped?
[recording paused]
RD: No. Remember a Lancaster is a very big bomber. And you climbed up steps to get in the door at the back and then walk along the main part of the rear of the aeroplane ‘til you came to the main spar where you cocked your leg over and went in to the wireless operator’s little cubbyhole on the left. And, and then further along was the navigator on the left. And then there were the two seats for the pilot and the co-pilot engineer. And underneath that was the place where the bomb aimer used to lay. It, it was cramped but nothing like a fighter aeroplane. There are two, two things about that that [pause] I’ve forgotten what I was saying now [pause]
TO: Conditions aboard was it?
RD: No.
TO: Or positions of people?
RD: No. It was never, never cramped in a bomber aircraft. If, if you want to know what cramped is — in, in the in the pay in the Hampden there were pilot, second pilot, engineer, navigator, bomb aimer, wireless operator and two other gunners. Now, the rear gunner, the one right at the back out on his own was in a cupola underneath the belly of the aircraft at the back. Above him would be the tail. And he would sit in that turret with his legs up like this, he’d obviously got support at the back, with his gun like that for eight hours. That was uncomfortable and cold. Absolutely freezing cold. He used to have to have a heating, a heated suit. And the sheer boredom of looking at nothing. Looking for aircraft. That was uncomfortable. But I don’t think I can say that anybody else was uncomfortable in a Lancaster. Except if you’re out on a gun, the rear gun at the back of the aircraft that swivels around I suppose you could say it was uncomfortable. I’ve written a lovely story that’s just been published about a Canadian pilot. But I’ll send you an email. It was nothing to do with me. It’s something that happened after the war but just as a matter of interest give me your email address.
TO: Ok.
RD: I’ll send it to you. Yeah.
TO: I’ll send you, if you like I’ll send you a link to an Imperial War Museum with Harris.
RD: From?
TO: That Harris did in 1977. I can send you a link via an email.
RD: Yeah.
TO: To a website where you can listen to an interview with Harris.
RD: Oh well they’ve got it up at Lincoln because I sent it up to, to them but this would, I don’t know if you know about the pilot who gave his life to save the crew.
TO: No. What was that?
RD: Well this is the story of —
TO: Ok. Send me that one.
RD: I’ll send it to you personally.
TO: Ok.
RD: Or to whatever address you want to.
TO: Yeah. Ok.
RD: But Lincoln have already seen it and it’s been published in the magazine.
TO: Ok.
RD: So you might have seen it there which you can then forget it.
TO: And do you remember what you were doing on the day the war ended?
RD: On the day that war ended. That which would be VE Day I was still [pause] up near Lincoln. But we used, for a special night out we used to go to Nottingham and I and a crowd of guys went out to Nottingham to celebrate and we did. It was alleged the prettiest girls in England were in Nottingham and so we used to make for Nottingham at any given opportunity. I think it was right actually. But that was VE. Now VJ Day I really can’t remember offhand. I might think about it later on. But certainly VJ night I celebrated in Nottingham which was the nearest big city.
TO: And — sorry.
RD: Sorry.
TO: Do you remember hearing about the atomic bombs on Japan?
RD: Oh yes. Of course. Well, one of our commanders Leonard Cheshire was, was on the raid. And, and we, we didn’t know until, until afterwards. But but but oh yes we thought, thought this was fantastic. I mean never ever thought it was what it was at that time. You know the atomic bomb. Ok it’s a big bomb that blows up everything but we did not realise the significance of the post bomb period and things of that sort. And at that time I don’t think it was considered. The important thing was to get it over. You know. Regardless. Why should we have any sympathy for these people who have done this? That is always my question. I’m not asking you but my question why should we care? We want to get the war over and however we get it over we get it over. I don’t say we’d do things that are criminal. I mean Idon’t think this is criminal. This is just the way you fight a war. I mean I don’t believe in anything illegal. It’s not illegal to me. Not illegal to me. Whether, whether I’m sympathetic to those people that did die at that time. Whether I’m still sympathetic now is another matter entirely but my thoughts at that time were absolutely thank goodness for that. It’s over.
TO: Right.
RD: And I knew it would be because it would be stupid to. We would have just wiped Japan off the face of the earth. Yeah.
TO: Do you remember hearing about the Holocaust?
RD: Oh yes. That was terribly upsetting. Terribly, terribly upsetting. We knew that that large numbers of people. I mean, you also have to remember that there were some refugees from Germany who got out before the war and they were in every, every community. So, we, we knew about this and were told how they got out with great difficulty without anything. On the other hand some of them did get out with some of their belongings. They had to get a special certificate and pay certain monies to take them out of Germany. Which they did and they arrived in England with them. So, you know, a lot of it, a lot of them came out quite legally but they were very few in relation to the numbers that we’re talking about. Yeah. No, I had no, I had no direct relatives who, who were there. Although subsequently I did find that there were some of my grandfather’s relatives who I’d never heard of who survived and came, came to England. But no, it was, it was earth shattering. How, how could any people do that? And and the other thing that infuriated me and infuriates me to this day is those Germans who said they didn’t know. Because I don’t believe they didn’t know. I think they just shut their eyes to it. You know. That’s the German man in the street couldn’t tell me that he didn’t know. People living next door. What was it? You know. So that’s, that’s the way I feel about that.
TO: I think I’m —
RD: Yeah.
TO: I’ve more or less run out of time.
RD: Right.
TO: But is there anything you want to add at all?
RD: No. No.
TO: No.
RD: Not really. I mean I could probably go on forever. I’m amazed that I, I remember as much as I, as I do. I feel very fortunate and gifted that I can still do it. Seeing, you know, contemporaries of mine. The way they are and ill health and memories are gone and Alzheimers and all and all the rest of them, so I consider myself very, very fortunate to still have my mind working. And the fact that I can travel and do travel and enjoy life to the extent that I don’t know how I found time to work [laughs]
TO: Well, thank you very much.
RD: You’re welcome.
TO: I really enjoyed it.
RD: Pleasure.
TO: Thank you.
RD: A pleasure to meet you Thomas.
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 Ronald Davis
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Tom Ozel
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
2016-08-07
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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ADavisRS160807, PDavisRS1604
Conforms To
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Pending review
Pending revision of OH transcription
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Format
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01:15:05 audio recording
Description
An account of the resource
Ronald Davis grew up in the East End and worked in London as a solicitor’s office boy. He joined the RAF and trained as a fitter airframe. He was saddened when the pilot of the aircraft he services did not return from operation because they had got along so well. He and the other ground crew would also have to manually light flares to guide the aircraft on to the runway if the Drem lights were covered with snow. He also describes dealing with air crashes and sights that have stayed with him throughout his life.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
England--London
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
1942
1943
1944
1661 HCU
49 Squadron
617 Squadron
83 Squadron
bombing
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
displaced person
faith
fitter airframe
grief
ground crew
ground personnel
Hampden
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Manchester
military service conditions
perception of bombing war
RAF Halton
RAF Scampton
runway
training
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1875/46474/SHarriganD[Ser -DoB]v670002.mp3
dc330a19486127faee58285311c26dbe
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
Aviation Heritage Lincolnshire
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
2017-06-19
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
Aviation Heritage Lincolnshire
Description
An account of the resource
34 items. Interviews with veterans recorded by Aviation Heritage Lincolnshire.<br /><br />Interview with Bertie Salvage <br />Three part interview with Dougie Marsh <br />Interview with Terry Hodson <br />Interview with Stan Waite Interview with John Langston<br />Interview with Nelson Nix <br />Two part interview with Bob Panton <br />Interview with Basil Fish <br />Interview with Ernest Groeger <br />Interview with Wilf Keyte <br />Interview with Reginald John Herring <br />Interview with Kathleen Reid <br />Interview with Allan Holmes <br />Interview with John Tomlinson <br />Interview with Cliff Thorpe and Roy Smith <br />Interview with Peter Scoley <br />Interview with Kenneth Ivan Duddell <br />Interview with Christopher Francis Allison <br />Interview with Bernard Bell <br />Interview with George Arthur Bell <br />Interview with George William Taplin <br />Interview with Richard Moore <br />Interview with Kenneth Edgar Neve <br />Interview with Annie Mary Blood <br />Interview with Dennis Brader <br />Interview with Les Stedman <br />Interview with Anthony Edward Mason <br />Interview with Anne Morgan Rose Harcombe<br />
<p>The following interviews have been moved to the relevant collections.<br /><span>Interview with <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/items/show/46454">Kathleen Reid</a></span><br />Interview with Wing Commander <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/items/show/46467">Kenneth Cook DFC</a><br />Interview with <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/items/show/46456">Colin Cole</a><br />Interview with <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/document/46464">Charles Avey</a><br />Interview with <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/items/show/46470">John Bell</a><br />Interview with <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/items/show/46459">Les Rutherford</a><br />Interview with <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/items/show/46460">James Douglas Hudson</a></p>
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
Interviewer: I’m with Bertie Salvage in his home in Stamford.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: And Bertie served a good long time in the Air Force.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: And so, to start. I understand Bertie that your first encounter with the RAF was when you joined up. Was it 1939?
BS: 1939. On October the 6th 1939. And —
Interviewer: Yeah. I mean, you know, did you that was at the beginning of the Second World War.
BS: Well, it was. The war had broken out early September and it was a Sunday afternoon and we were home and the air raid siren went off for the first time. We were all sitting down to Sunday dinner in Southend on Sea where I —
Interviewer: This is the famous first day of the war.
BS: Yes, it was. The first day of the war. Then of course we all rushed outside. Of course nothing happened, you know. It was, it was just a false alarm. But anyway, I had received notification that I had passed the RAF exam as an aircraft apprentice to go to Cranwell and so I then received information in early September that I was to report to Cranwell on the 6th of October 1939. So this was, this duly happened. I went to Cranwell. I was inducted as an aircraft apprentice at RAF Cranwell. The instrument maker apprentices and the wires and electrical mechanic apprentices were being trained at Cranwell at the time. The other trades were being trained at RAF Halton in Buckinghamshire. So they were the two schools really and also some at Cosford. They were boy entrants. Anway, so it was quite a fierce trades really from the comforts of home to the, to the spartan conditions of the RAF as it then was in 1939. We were in huge barrack blocks at Cranwell where they had forty to a room you know. Iron bedsteads left over from the Great War I think [laughs] and very very far, very strong discipline you know. Very firm discipline which it had to be for young boys I suppose just joining the Air Force but I settled down and we did basic training on the square. Just for a few weeks you know. Two or three weeks basic training and drill and all that sort of thing. Learned to keep ourselves neat and tidy, our uniforms. To keep the barrack rooms clean and everything else. And of course, it was very very tough the discipline but you know some, in some respects you appreciated it. I enjoyed it really. Well, then we settled in on our technical training. We used to march down to the workshops every day at Cranwell and this went on and on and the, the one thing I do remember is that going over into 1940 just about the time of just before Dunkirk when the Germans had invaded the low countries we used to march to the workshops every day and during that early period when the Germans were still invading France they used to play patriotic music over the tannoy system as we were marching to work. Such things as, “We’re Going to Hang out the Washing on the Siegfried Line.” [laughs] And of course that didn’t ever happen. Things like that you know. It was quite an amazing time to go through really at that period leading up to Dunkirk. Anyway, so the training went on. I found it very interesting. The technical training. All the aircraft. The aircraft electrical instrument systems and all that you know and also quite a lot of electrical information. Electrical instruction as well because a lot of instruments were, you know operated by electricity or electrical systems and you know so that went on sort of quite happily. And then in 1940 around about August time the instrument maker schools was moved out to Halton with the apprentices of the other trades. RAF Halton. It was a wonderful change because Halton is a lovely part of the country you know in Buckinghamshire whereas Cranwell was —
Interviewer: Flat.
BS: We didn’t like it very much up there. Dismal sort of area there. So we got to Halton and but, but in the interim period sort of you know we had a month’s leave actually. Four weeks leave in the changeover between going from Cranwell to Halton and I went home to Southend on Sea and I watched lots of the Battle of Britain going on with all the aerodrome above us coming up the Thames Estuary and we had a grandstand view really, Southend unfortunately.
Interviewer: And what was the feeling like in the country at that time?
BS: Very patriotic. Very patriotic. Yeah.
Interviewer: And was there a, you know a real fear of invasion at that stage?
BS: Well, there was a fear of, well there was but somehow we used to have the feeling it can’t happen to us. You know that sort of British feeling that —
Interviewer: Stiff upper lip and all that.
BS: Stiff upper lip and all that. Oh yes. There was the fear but it was, it was a defiance really. No one is bloody going to invade us sort of thing, you know. But of course, we were right on the, down at Southend where my old home was that was right on the sort of, you know if they had invaded it would be one of the first places that they would come in through I would have thought.
Interviewer: What was the news reporting? Was it, was, did you hear what was going on?
BS: Oh yes. Oh, the news reporting was very good. We, we knew all the time what was going on. I saw quite a few battles when I was, that month I was home. I saw quite a few aerial dogfights you know but one minute they were there and then they were gone you know. It was that —
Interviewer: Very fleeting.
BS: Very fleeting you know. Basically your question. I went through. I went and got in to the autumn of 1940 when they started the bombing on London. We used to get home occasionally on a forty eight hour pass. I went through London, through a couple of Blitzes you know and quite often I had to take shelter in the deep air raid, deep underground stations that they’d allocated to be air raids sort of shelters for people. So I experienced that and there were terrible scenes I saw you know before going on to Halton. So, that was, that was something to remember really, you know. So anyway, we, we continued our training at Halton which was, you know, very good. And then I actually because of the war they forced short the apprentice —
Interviewer: Training.
BS: Training from three years to well, less than two years.
Interviewer: Yes, I was going to say I was surprised.
BS: Yeah. Yeah.
Interviewer: That you were —
BS: Oh yes.
Interviewer: That you spend time in training.
BS: Yes. So, I passed, I passed out actually in July 1941 and I wasn’t eighteen. I was still only seventeen. I passed out and our training wasn’t complete but they considered we had been trained sufficiently to be able to take part. We’d learn more as we went along.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: Having joined a squadron.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: You see.
Interviewer: Learning on the job.
BS: That’s right. Yes. So, nineteen, I was in the, when I was left Halton I was posted to RAF Marham in Norfolk to 218 Squadron. There were two squadrons there. The Wellington squadron. Wellingtons. 115 and 218 but Wellingtons. Basically, Wellington bombers and I always remember in the train going from, up from Halton to, to Marham it was a lovely sunny day in July we heard for the first time the subject about the Russians. The Germans invading Russia. That was the first time we had heard that Russia had come into the war you see. And so we got to, got to Marham and of course straightway I was pitchforked on to the squadron and it was very interesting you know being inducted into servicing the Wellingtons. We used to have to also apart from looking after all the instrument systems, instrument repairs and replacement we had also responsibility for the navigation system as well you know because it was astral navigation in those days you know and also the oxygen system. So we had to, in those days you had to physically change the oxygen bottles after every trip, you know. Quite a lot of bottles too. That was quite a job. So that’s one of my little jobs I had to do. But one of the funny things was that the aircraft apart from dropping bombs they used to drop leaflets over Germany. I still have a sample. And also fake ration cards so the Germans would probably pick up these fake ration cards to help deplete the German rations you see. I’ve still got one of those somewhere. Anyway, so that was that but the basic thing I’ll always remember is that of course in those days bombing was, at the time we thought it was very effective but it was not very effective. There was an awful lot of missed targets.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: An awful lot of mixed targets.
Interviewer: Area bombing. Yeah.
BS: That’s right, and but the sad thing was you know the aircrew used to come out and used to get the captains of a bomber was only about nineteen or twenty you know. The responsibility that the lads took on then in those days was quite, it really was quite [pause] but I thinking back on it now I hardly ever saw any sign of fear. They were laughing and joking. They used to wee on the wheels for good luck and things like that you know. And the old air gunners would let off the guns into the night sky just to check on them you know in the turrets. You know and, but they always seemed to set off in a very good mood. But of course, when they didn’t come back or came back badly damaged you know often with blood. On one occasion I remember the, one came back and the rear turret was just a mass of blood and gore.
Interviewer: Yes, I heard somebody else says that.
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: And the damage that the, that the Wellington could take with geodetic construction was quite amazing really. Old Barnes Wallis had designed them very well indeed you know. And then once, I’d been there a few weeks when the film people came to take a, they made a film called, “One of Our Aircraft is missing.” And they came to shoot at the early stages of the aircraft taking off from our, they came around to our dispersal and they took photos of us ground crew waving to the aircraft as they took off in to the night sky on their bombing missions.
Interviewer: Did they? So that was just done for the camera was it?
BS: that was done for the camera really you know. And I did see and I did have a copy afterwards that I actually saw the back of me and three others just waving like mad to the aircraft that took off into the night sky. But it was a very very very poignant really. They take off into the dusk you know. Disappear. Of course, all grass airfields then. There was no runways. No runways. They were all grass airfields. And so which was quite an embarrassment really later on because in the Autumn of 1941 we converted to Stirlings. We were the second squadron to be, I’ll just get this for you [pause] to be converted to, sorry to be converted to Stirlings.
Interviewer: Oh, I think I’ve seen this photograph before. Yes.
BS: Yes. It’s a special. There was only a few copies made.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: That’s one of the few.
Interviewer: A nice looking aeroplane.
BS: Yes. But very heavy. Very big. Much bigger than the Lanc you know. They carried a bigger bomb load. But of course, the trouble with the Stirling was that the Hercules engines didn’t have the power really to get them over the Alps and they had to struggle like hell to get over to bomb Northern Italy as they used to go and bomb Turin quite a lot. But they used to struggle to get over the Alps and I think they realised that they were built like a tank. Like a fortress inside. But they just didn’t have the power really and I think actually when it came into about 1943 they were actually taken off full line bombing and became towers for the gliders and things like that.
Interviewer: It's a shame because everybody now looks back and thinks —
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: The Lancaster was the only bomber.
BS: Oh no. No. The Stirling was she was ever she was very good in every respect bar the fact she was underpowered. But I’ve flown in a Stirling and I’ve flown, I had to get every chance I could. Air testing, you know. Those I used to fly. I’ve flown I a Stirling. I’ve flown quite a few times in Wellingtons. You know, on the air tests. I used to like to sit in the rear turrets. Quite fun. And you know so I got one for experience really and the, and another snag with the Stirling was that it was the first aircraft that ever had the electrical undercarriage. And old DC motors they requires three thick cables to really get the power through and it was quite a thing to see a Stirling with one wheel collapsed and like this on the airfield. Like you know and had to jack them up to —
Interviewer: I wonder why they went for electric motors rather than —
BS: I don’t know.
Interviewer: Metal damage to cope with if the hydraulics had been —
BS: I think so. I think it was an experiment really you know. They were coming in to a new era and you know so, you know I think they—
Interviewer: A bit embarrassing if you have a generator failure.
BS: Oh yes. And of course, they realised being as these were such big heavy aircraft that the grass airfield was not very good at all. You know, they used to —
Interviewer: They used to get waterlogged, didn’t they?
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: Some of these old grassed airfields.
BS: Yeah. So soon after that that, I left the country by then that they decided to build runways you see. So, you know I, people say to me oh there’s the lady who I’m very good friends with at the moment. She’s quite a bit younger than me but if I talk about the olden days she doesn’t want to know. ‘Oh, don’t talk about the past.’ The past. But you get to my age you think about it. It’s life to you, you know what I mean?
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: My memory is still so fantastically good really, you know. Way back to those days it’s as clear as a bell really.
Interviewer: And didn’t you tell me that you remember Trenchard coming?
BS: Oh sorry. Yes. Yes.
Interviewer: He lived up to his Boom Trenchard.
BS: Oh yes. Yes.
Interviewer: Trenchard. Big man.
BS: When the, I hadn’t been at Marham very long, perhaps, are we still oh dear. I hadn’t been at Marham very long when it was a bit of a miserable sort of day and of course we were working in the hangars and they used to say, ‘Come on. Get outside.’ You know. Assembled on the tarmac outside the hangars because there’s going to be someone giving a talk. So we went outside and stood in a big sort of circle. And suddenly this figure appeared and he was introduced as to Lord Trenchard you see and there he was in his uniform and his rather flat sort of hat. It wasn’t, a bit of a squashed looking hat on his head and he gave us a pep talk you see about how, what a wonderful job we were doing. To keep up, lads, you know. You know, sort of you know and we’ve got the Germans on the run [laughs] you know [laughs] We bloody well hadn’t at that time.
Interviewer: So you took it with a pinch of salt.
BS: Oh yes. I stood quite close to him actually. He had a moustache if I remember rightly.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: But we weren’t told of course at the time it hadn’t really perhaps got around to me by then but we were told that he was the father of the Royal Air Force.
Interviewer: Absolutely.
BS: So it was a privilege to remember that, you see.
Interviewer: Yes. Yes.
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: And the thing that they say about Trenchard was that when forming the Air Force one of the things he really concentrated on was very good training.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: To make sure not just the air crew but —
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: To make sure that the ground crew had got all the skills.
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: Which is what, which is quite interesting that you —
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: Did spend quite a good time in training even though it was in the Second World War.
BS: Oh absolutely. Oh yes. And something else I was going to say. I’ve forgotten. Oh, dear its gone from me.
Interviewer: And when the Air Force —
BS: Oh yes. Yes. Yes. He was, was the founder of the Aircraft Apprentice Scheme in 1923. He started it all up at Halton and it’s a wonderful training you know.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: As a boy of sixteen, just sixteen to be pitchforked from home into that, you know. The sheer discipline and we learned to look after ourselves. Do our own —
Interviewer: Sewing.
BS: Sewing and —
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: And keeping our barrack rooms clean. Kit inspection once a week. Everything had to be absolutely spot on, you know. The officer used to come around with the —
Interviewer: And the aircraft apprentices have got a very good reunion and —
BS: Oh well, yes. The Halton Apprentices Association. In fact, I’ve got a book there written by an air vice marshall. Ex-aircraft apprentice who used to, we used to see him actually in our reunions down at Halton and it’s about the life of an aircraft apprentice. I’ll get it out some time and show you.
Interviewer: And the good thing is —
BS: I’ll look it up.
Interviewer: And the interesting thing is how many formal aircraft apprentices made air rank —
BS: Oh yes.
Interviewer: Very senior ranks.
BS: They did. They did. Apart from the technical training which you of course enlarged. I mean, by the time I finished at the RAF I was very highly qualified. Instruments, electronically and everything else. You know, all the courses I went on and all that work on the V bombers. So, you know, it was, it was the sheer sort of discipline that that regulated your life and you know —
Interviewer: A good start.
BS: Oh yes.
Interviewer: A good start. And did you say you’d, I think you just said you were just saying that you were moving on from Marham. How long did you spend there?
BS: So I was at Marham from July ‘til March ’41.
Interviewer: And then what was next?
BS: Then what happened then was I’ll tell you a funny little story. Can I just recap a bit but when, when I passed out from Halton and I went to Marham and when I went home of course we used to get forty eight passes at any time. Not just at weekends. In the middle of the week or any time. Forty eight hour pass.
Interviewer: When you could be spared.
BS: When you could be spared.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: And my father who was a very very patriotic man. My father served right through the first war in the Royal Artillery, through all the modern hell of Passchendaele. You couldn’t meet a more patriotic man. King and country man everything. The fact I went in the the Air Force absolutely wonderful to him you know. Anyway, I went home on my first leave you see. And , ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Where’s your propellers on your arms?’ He thought I was going to be a leading aircraftsman straight away. Of course, I passed out as AC1 not AC2 [laughs] you see. I didn’t get quite the response then, you know. So, so that was that. So that was a funny story really going back. Yes, so what happened then was in March, early March ’42 I was posted overseas. You never knew where you were going abroad in the wartime. You never knew where you were going but overseas. So I went home on embarkation leave for a fortnight. When I got home my mother said, Southend on Sea, my mother said, ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘Dad’s in hospital, ill. Oh, he’s got congestion of the lungs.’ So I went down to see him. He was very poorly in hospital at Rochford in Essex and anyway within a couple of days he had died.
Interviewer: Oh, that’s —
BS: While I was on embarkation leave. Of course, I had two sisters at home and so that was a blow. So I got a weeks extension you know for his funeral. We buried him down in, we got him buried. And so I I left home, my mother and sisters and went back to Marham to clear and went to [pause] first of all we went, I was sent up to Blackpool. Blackpool was what you called a personnel distribution centre for people going over. PDC they called it. And —
Interviewer: Was that Squire’s Gate?
BS: No. No.
Interviewer: Actually at Blackpool.
BS: That was, we were in civvy billets in Bloomfield Road opposite the football ground. Well they were all civvy billets in those days you see.
Interviewer: Right.
BS: And the nice house, a very nice house we were in. Anyway, we were there for a fortnight and in that time we were all kitted out for overseas. You had an idea perhaps where you were going in those days the sort of kit you got really and we were kitted out at Marks and Spencer’s and Woolworths were military kitting out places you see.
Interviewer: Fantastic.
BS: So we had to barter around Blackpool from one to the other being kitted out and straightaway we knew we weren’t going to India because we didn’t get a pith helmet. The pith helmet. They had the pith helmets to go into India you see. We had the old fashioned [taupes?] that they used in the sort of semi-tropical countries you know like Africa and places like that. So I had a [taupe?] I had all the rest of the khaki drill issued and then we set off. After a fortnight we were what they called drafts in those days. Then we set off by train. Took us all day in the train. Of course, no sort, they had no sort of corridor trains. They were all bloody single compartments.
Interviewer: Separate compartments. Yeah.
BS: And we finished up. Where the hell are we going to? We finished up it turned out in Avonmouth in Bristol.
Interviewer: And you still don’t know where you’re going.
BS: No. Not a clue. Not a clue. No. No. They wouldn’t tell you. So we’d not a clue. We got to Avonmouth. We offloaded from the train at the dockside and there was this big old grey steamer there for troops. She had been called the Island Princess. She had been a Argentine meat boat apparently which had been converted to a trooper. Troop carrier. So we staggered up the gangplank. Don’t know how I staggered up with kit bags. Full blooming kitted on. Your [taupe] Great coat. All the rest of our equipment. We staggered up the gangplank on to the, and straight down the gangways right down to a lower deck. One of the holds had been converted into a troop deck you see. Got down there and we were the last line of portholes going down. The Army were underneath. They didn’t have any portholes. We had the Army on board as well. And there were two hundred of us on the troop deck and we were all sleeping on hammocks and we had sort of mess tables going from the centre out to the sides of the ship you see where we allocated so many to a mess table each you see. About I don’t know about ten or twelve. Something like that. And hammocks had to be stowed in special stowage and your ordinary kit was on racks above you. So, so that was something getting used to and when we came had to sleep at night we we hung our hammocks up you know and when we all slung our hammocks we were sort of more or less touching one another you know. You always had to sleep head to toe for obvious reasons and if anybody was seasick in the night God it was hell.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: Bloody awful.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: You can imagine.
Interviewer: I don’t want to contemplate it. I did I did three years in the Navy and —
BS: Oh, did you?
Interviewer: I don’t want to contemplate what it could have been like.
BS: So, so anyway so that was the old troopship and, but I got used it. Actually, I enjoyed it. Anyway, we sailed out in the and we sailed out to Greenock, picked up the rest of the convoy at Greenock and we stayed there overnight and —
Interviewer: But when the ship sailed did you still not know where the ship was going?
BS: No. Not a clue. We hadn’t got a clue. No.
Interviewer: That’s incredible.
BS: Well, I hadn’t got a clue and we sailed up the Irish Sea to Greenock and there we picked up the rest of the convoy. We sailed next day. There was ships from horizon to horizon.
Interviewer: So also and when was this?
BS: This was the end of March ’42. The height of the U-boat war.
Interviewer: Wow.
BS: The height of the U-boat war and, and there were sort of Naval vessels sort of you know going around all the time but of course the convoy had to go to the speed of the slowest ship. Eight knots. That was, that was the and we were kept one in front and one behind, you know, liners. Troopers. All grey and horizon to horizon and it was just ships everywhere. And of course, I never even gave a thought to blooming U-boats. I can remember standing on the bloody bow in the heaving North Atlantic enjoying it. Isn’t this wonderful. I never gave a thought we could bloody well be torpedoed at any time, you know. Its youth you see. Nothing can happen to me.
Interviewer: No.
BS: So anyway, so we kept going day after day after day and getting colder and colder. We were going, we thought we were going a bit north. Anyway, eventually we, we changed course and fortunately you know we saw a couple of Condors came over but, but no we didn’t, nobody was attacked at that time. Or at least after we changed direction of course I knew we were going south and eventually after about a couple of weeks or more, two and a half weeks we landed up in Freetown in Sierra Leone and we anchored there for a couple of days. And I can remember the old [unclear] coming alongside with the natives in them wanting to sell —
Interviewer: Sell things. Yeah.
BS: Including their sister ships [laughs] but rain. I’ve never known rain like it in my life. Anyway, we, we set sail again. By this time the convoy was somewhat spoiled. The faster ships they let go ahead at this point you see. But anyway, we kept, we sailed on and on and on. Eventually we must have, well I still had no idea where we were going. No idea at all, you know what was happening. Where we were going. So we got down to the South of Africa. We’re going around the Cape and suddenly we were sitting down to an evening meal down on the mess decks and suddenly bang and the whole ship shuddered like hell. So the boat sirens, alarms went so we, there wasn’t panic but we went up several ladders to the upper, to the boat decks and we stood at our boat stations. There was the Acali raft station on the bloody boat. We had an Acali raft station. And the ship just, just over there was going down. You know, she was the Naval vessel had turned back and was going towards it. So we stayed, we stayed at boat stations for what must have been well over an hour. We went down again and just sat down again when another bang went up and another ship had been hit. You know sort of further away. So, and then we were told over the tannoy that we’d actually arrived into an enemy minefield laid by the Japanese ocean going submarines and not to say anything about it. Right. Well, the next day we had these little leaflets handed out to us about conditions sort of in South Africa and we were told, our draft were told that we were going to be staying in South Africa you see. Well, you know I was absolutely over the moon about this because my eldest sister in ’39, had emigrated to South Africa and so I thought at least there. Only at the last moment two days after that we docked in Durban. And the wonderful thing is I don’t know if you’ve been told about this but all the convoys used to dock in Durban in those days. They were met by a lady on the end of the moles singing and she used, as the troop ships moved in towards the harbour she’d stand on the end of the mole, this lady in a long white dress and she was singing beautifully to all the ships as they came in. She did this every time a convoy came in to Durban during the war. Singing. Beautiful singing. And we docked and we were offloaded and we were taken to a transit camp. You see what happened was that the, it was a rest camp really and all the troops going up to North Africa you know RAF and Army used to —
Interviewer: Stop there.
BS: Have a week or a fortnights rest in Durban. At Clairwood before going out to North Africa you see. The campaign there. But we were only there for about a week because we were staying in South Africa and I was told my post would be to a place called Port Alfred down in the Cape, Eastern Cape, near Port Elizabeth. And what had happened was the Empire Training Scheme. They trained all the aircrew in South Africa, Rhodesia, America.
Interviewer: Canada.
BS: And Canada. Right. So I was posted there and of course the aircraft were Ansons and Oxfords and Old Fairey Battles.
[pause]
BS: So of course, I was over the moon because I mean and the first the thing is to go back when we were in Durban. The residents of Durban were so patriotic they used to talk about home as England not South Africa.
Interviewer: Really?
BS: All English speaking and English-speaking South Africans and every evening outside Clairwood camp there would be lines and lines of cars of Durban residents lining to take the troops to their homes to give them a —
Interviewer: Dinner.
BS: Meal.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: And look after them and give them a good time. I remember the first night or second night we were there I was, went out with my friend intending to go in to Durban just to see things and a car pulled up just as we and we were, ‘Come on lads.’ You know. ‘Would you like to come home with us?’ So we said, ‘Yes, please.’ He turned out to be the chief education officer for Durban and we went to his beautiful house. They had three lovely daughters and of course it was, and after war torn England it was a paradise coming there. It was. It was. It was peacetime. It was beautiful living conditions you know.
Interviewer: So life was beginning to look up.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: At this stage.
BS: And because a lot of the chaps had perhaps come from poor homes. It must have been quite an eye opener going to some of these houses you know.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: Being looked after like that. You know it really must have been quite fantastic. So anyway, so and of course all the time I was in South Africa I kept on very good friendly terms with the family and I used to go up there sometimes on leave. Anyway, I got to Port Alfred and with the, I was with the Instrument Section and we had, you know the, the Ansons and Oxfords were used for navigator training and bomb aimer training you know. And air gunner training also and the Fairey Battles were used for target towing. And could you [laughs] I don’t really know much about the old Fairey Battle but they lost —
Interviewer: I’ve seen, I’ve seen photographs.
BS: They’d lost an awful lot in France.
Interviewer: And they were retired from active service pretty quickly weren’t they?
BS: Oh, they lost a lot in France. Anyways, you know how you take your life in your hands as a young boy I would fly in anything because I loved flying you see and I remember having a couple of flights in Fairey Battles and oh God, spewing glycol and petrol over the ruddy place you know. It was [laughs].
Interviewer: And was the flying school run by Airwork’s?
BS: No.
Interviewer: Or was it run —
BS: No. No.
Interviewer: By the RAF?
BS: No, it was run by the either the South African Air Force and the RAF between them. So on, on the camps you see there were quite a few camps out there they were, we were a mixture of South African Air Force and RAF. But the RAF were the main trainers. Do you know what I mean? They were the main experienced people. The South African Air Force were there as sort of because this was South Africa and our CO was a colonel, South African colonel you see. So that was fine. Ok. And so it, it was a lovely mixture really but the Air Force were the main operators as you might say. The RAF. Port Alfred and 43 Air School and —
Interviewer: And as you say their duty —
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: Was to push out all the air crews.
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: To go back to Europe.
BS: Oh yes. That’s they used to come over and they would be there for quite a few weeks and of course it’s a wonderful atmosphere to train them in in peacetime.
Interviewer: Well, that’s why they set these schools up.
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: A — get them away from the war and B —
BS: Yes, that’s right.
Interviewer: In good weather conditions.
BS: That’s right. I mean the flying or navigating was perfect really and of course it was all astra navigation in those days. I mean you think back to life over here during the bombing period of those years. I mean that’s why the Americans didn’t do it up because they weren’t trained in astra navigation like our chaps were you see. You know night navigation. That’s why they took on all the —
Interviewer: That was the day raids.
BS: Day. Day bombing you see. So and I often used to go up you know on these trips with them. You know, I used to love to fly as much as I could.
Interviewer: And was there a lot of work to be done repairing the aircraft?
BS: Oh lord, yes. I mean you know it’s all the time. I mean and the wonderful thing is despite the fact that there was a war on and losses in shipping through U-boat activity and that sort of thing we never went short of spares. You know, it’s marvellous really.
Interviewer: So somebody back in England must have been doing their job to get all the spares sent out.
BS: Oh, the production in this country was absolutely wonderful when you think of it during the war. All firms like, you know like little engineering firms, workshops used to have contracts for for making spares and things like that you see. The, the organisation was absolutely fantastic, you know.
Interviewer: So and going back to Trenchard again.
BS: Oh, that’s right.
Interviewer: He set the, he set the Air Force up and made sure everybody was trained.
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: So when it needed to work it could.
BS: Well, when you come back to it in 1934 they set up the five year plan. They built all those airfields like Cottesmore, Luffenham, Wittering, eventually Scampton all built on the same plan. You go to any station and they were all exactly the same virtually.
Interviewer: Similar. Similar layouts.
BS: Oh yes. H blocks and the officer’s mess. Sergeant’s Messes. Pretty well pretty much the same. This is and if it hadn’t been for that five year plan we’d have been the hell’s way in ‘39 when the war broke out.
Interviewer: How long did you get to stay in South Africa then?
BS: So anyway, so I stayed in South Africa until July ’45.
Interviewer: Oh, so you —
BS: I was there for over three years.
Interviewer: You were there for three years.
BS: Yeah. So —
Interviewer: Was that normal for for people to spend that much time there?
BS: Yes. Well, you couldn’t get home. There was no, there was no time limit to a tour in those days.
Interviewer: And presumably they wanted to cut down on the amount of troop transports.
BS: That’s right. That’s right.
Interviewer: And so it made sense to keep you there for a good long time.
BS: That’s right. I came back when the European war was over. So all the time I was out there I was very fortunate because my sister was living in Johannesburg and so the first leave I got I went up and stayed with her. Wonderful for me really. And of course, the other fellas didn’t have that. And I had some wonderful leaves and went all over the country and my sister’s husband he was working in the gold mines of Johannesburg. He joined the South African Air Force and he went up to North Africa. To a campaign up there against Rommel you see. The South African Air Force and my sister she, because her husband had gone up there she took the chance. She came down to Port Alfred and lived in the local hotel there. So —
Interviewer: Your sister on [unclear] —
BS: Yes [laughs] it was a most unusual situation really but it just so happened. It was luck.
Interviewer: You’ve got to make these things work for you haven’t you?
BS: But that’s right. Just luck. So that was that. Then in, as I say in —
Interviewer: Then again when you were serving there in the, in the sort of towards the end of the Second World War was it obvious that you heard about D-Day presumably.
BS: Oh, oh yes.
Interviewer: You heard about how the war was going.
BS: Yes. Yes. Oh yes. About [pause] what was it? In July? About January ’45 I was posted up to Pretoria to Robert’s Heights, Voortrekkerhoogte because that was Afrikaner speaking. Have you been to South Africa?
Interviewer: No. Not yet.
BS: Oh, you’ll have to go.
Interviewer: It’s on my list of places to go.
BS: Well, yeah. Yeah. Well, I want to go back again on this scheme that they’re running for veterans to go back.
Interviewer: Oh brilliant.
BS: And visit. Visit where with a grant from the lottery.
Interviewer: Great.
BS: So if I had somebody who would go with me I’d love to go back. Anyway, so I was posted up to Pretoria to a big air depot there. We were, we were sort of a big where they used to service all the aircraft instruments. They’d come in that were US you know, unserviceable. So by this time I’d been promoted to corporal.
Interviewer: Was that a big jump up to corporal?
BS: Yeah, well —
Interviewer: As in responsibility?
BS: Oh yes. Oh yes. I mean you know you know I thought it was anyway. You know.
Interviewer: Well, they always say corporal, the two ranks in the Air Force that are most important are the corporal and the warrant officer.
BS: Oh yes. Well, corporal because you, yes, oh yes. Yes. It was fine. Yes. And so, and then as I say in July ’45 or when, when yes we did know the war was coming to an end of course and then because it was so down, I always remember VE Day out there. We all paraded on the parade ground and were given a formal talk by the station commander there. He was another South African of course and immediately of course we were given the day off you see. So my friend and I we decided to go into Johannesburg. No. Into, into, that’s right into Pretoria itself and we were picked up by a South African colonel going in his car. Of course, we used to hitch hike all over. He took us to his house. I had a lovely time. We got as drunk as hell you know [laughs] We didn’t bloody well bother. Had a wonderful time. So that was how I spent VE Day really. I got back to Pretoria and then of course we were hanging about really for a week or two still doing our jobs of course because aircraft things still had to be serviced and looked after. And then we were posted. So July, at the end of June we were told, you know we were due to go home so we, we were taken down to Cape Town. Went down by train from Johannesburg on the, on the what do they call the wonderful train? The Blue Train they call it.
Interviewer: Blue Train. Yeah.
BS: Which went right down through Kimberley and the beautiful South African landscape down to Cape Town and we were there for about ten days or so in transit to Cape Town and of course it was lovely because Cape Town is a lovely area you know altogether. A beautiful place. And then we embarked on the Alcantara. A ship. A troop ship. Still the same conditions as the one I went out on really.
Interviewer: But this time no U-boats shooting at you.
BS: No. No. No U-boats but I’ll tell you what as soon as we sailed out from Cape Town they operated the gassing system which kept, gave you warnings of submarines. Oh, magnetic mines. That’s what they —
Interviewer: Magnetic, gassing for magnetic mines.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: And then Aztec obviously —
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: For detecting submarines.
BS: And I always remember that because we had it on the way out there. They have these what do they call the machine guns? The Oerlikons. They used to practice those every day and oh the noise they made.
Interviewer: This is after VE Day.
BS: Oh yeah. Well, of course I mean you know I mean things were still the same. I mean things hadn’t altered. It took time to. Of course, we sailed back in just over two and a half weeks. Nearly three weeks. So it was a much quicker easier time than —
Interviewer: And when you left South Africa did you know your time in the Air Force was coming to an end or was it?
BS: No. No. Because I was a regular.
Interviewer: You joined up as a regular.
BS: Oh, I was in for twelve years.
Interviewer: Ok. So, so when you signed up in 1939 you knew you were in for twelve years.
BS: [unclear] Oh that’s right. Yes.
Interviewer: So presumably a lot of people that were with you were conscripted.
BS: Well, obviously, yes. You had conscripted, you had a release, demob number they called it. And the lower the demob number the older you were you know.
Interviewer: The quicker they were posted to —
BS: The quicker you were out. But they never started demobbing until about August really. I mean this is what I gather the film on TV, one of these Foyles War things a guy came back from North Africa. He was out. Well, he wouldn’t have been out just like that. He’d have waited weeks you know. Things like that you notice.
Interviewer: Well looking at it the demob procedure was very well done.
BS: It was very well done. Everything was so organised believe me and I mean even the demob suits. I mean the lovely beautiful material. They were wonderful material. Shirts, all the ties.
Interviewer: A pair of shoes.
BS: Coat, hat, shoes. Everything.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: I mean —
Interviewer: And a suitcase was it?
BS: And a suitcase.
Interviewer: And a suitcase.
BS: That’s right. Yes. So anyway, so we got, oh yeah it was a very very pleasurable voyage. Actually, I enjoyed troopship life because you know funnily enough just to go back a bit going out to South Africa was where I learned to play chess and bridge on the deck for days on end. In the afternoon you were quite free and you’d sit about on deck you know and play cards or [pause] so I know quite a few games like that and you know so, oh I thought it was tough, spartan conditions. You know the food was very spartan and and once you got over the morning with boat drill and all that sort of thing. Of course, you know it’s, it was [pause] anyway so we got back through to Liverpool and, oh yes I’m sure it was Liverpool we docked at. And then of course we were sent our demob disembarkation leave and I went back down to Southend to my home.
Interviewer: And you’d been away —
BS: To my mum.
Interviewer: And you’d been away for a good long time then.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: When you —
BS: Yeah. Can I go back a little bit?
Interviewer: Of course you can.
BS: My two sisters at home who had left home the younger one she joined the Wrens and she was actually stationed down in the tunnels at Dover. They had tunnels under the castle which they had and she was a wireless operator there and she was involved in all that recording all the traffic on the Channel. Which they did you know with the German traffic and everything else. She was involved in that. My other sister who’d been a dressmaker joined the RAF and became a radio operator. Wonderful things they trained girls to do.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: She hadn’t a clue what electricity was almost and here she was just an ordinary dressmaker joined the Air Force and they trained her to be a wireless op down at Yatesbury. Is it Yatesbury? Yes.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: Yes, that’s right. Yatesbury.
Interviewer: Near Bristol.
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: Yes. Down there. And you know she qualified and eventually she was posted to Chichsands Priory which was an out station of —
Interviewer: Bentley Priory. Bletchley Park.
BS: Bletchley Park.
Interviewer: Bletchley Park.
BS: And she used to listen to all the German aircraft recording messages and pass it on to Bletchley Park. So an ordinary dressmaker. You see the people see they trained people up to do in the war you know.
Interviewer: And the responsibilities that they had.
BS: And the responsibility.
Interviewer: At a very young age.
BS: I know. Yes.
Interviewer: So much so that certainly after the, when the war came to an end a lot of women who had been trained wanted to keep, use that training.
BS: Well exactly. Oh yes. And she found it useful my, this other sister because when I got back from South Africa she was still in, still in the WAAF and about the following year she wanted to go out and join my sister in South Africa. But you couldn’t get passage anywhere at that time on the ships or anywhere and so she got together another group of like minded people and they bought an ex-Naval air sea rescue launch. Only about sixty seventy feet long. These twenty thirty people and they equipped it and they had these petrol engines with huge fifty gallon drums of, of fuel latched on the deck and they set off for South Africa. Took them three months to get there and she eventually did get there and of course it was in all the papers at the time. This wonderful trip made by these people.
Interviewer: That must have been an experience.
BS: And then when they got there they sold their boat and my sister went up to join my other sister up in Johannesburg. Well, that’s another story but so, you know those sorts of things people did you know in those days. Anyway, so, so that so I got home and when I got back I was home for a month and then I wondered where I was going to get posted to and of all places I was posted to RAF Westwood at Peterborough. There was an RAF station there training, training Free French Air Force pilots.
Interviewer: Is that just north of Peterborough?
BS: No. It’s on the edge of Peterborough. Right on the edge. Do you know Peterborough?
Interviewer: I do but I, I —
BS: If you go out to Westwood area it was you know the bit that was the Baker Perkins factory there. It was just at the back of Baker Perkins. In fact, the airfield stretched right up to Baker Perkins fence and that was all RAF Westwood. It’s all housing now and factories.
Interviewer: Yes, I knew there was an airfield around but I wasn’t sure where it was.
BS: So I was stationed there. I was stationed there for a short while and then after a few months, I wasn’t there all that long really I was posted to Japan.
Interviewer: Right. And we’ll talk about that in the next recording.
BS: Yes. Ok.
[recording paused]
Interviewer: I’m with Bertie Salvage and we’re talking about his experiences in the RAF and after your time in the Second World War Bertie I understand you ended up in Japan.
BS: Yes. It must have been sometime in early ’46 I was posted to Japan. Of course, this came as quite a surprise to me. Of all places to go to. To the occupation force in Japan because at that time Honshu, the main island was divided into half. The Americans occupied the upper part and the British Commonwealth Occupation Force as it was called occupied the lower half of Honshu, you know which was between Army and RAF. And what, what they’d done is when the occupation forces moved in they’d taken over old Japanese military establishments including airfields and when I got there I was posted to a place called Miho which had been another Japanese airfield where they trained the Kamikaze pilots. And the south, the south of Japan, or the south west southwest corner of Japan. But anyway going back to to going we set off from Tilbury in an old boat called the SS Ranchi and this had been an old P&O boat you know. Quite an old boat and it had been fitted out as a troop ship and it took us six weeks to get to Japan believe it or not. We think these days they are there in about sixteen hours. Almost. Not quite. A bit more than that but it took us six weeks to get there. All through the Med and down through stopping off at, in Port Said, Aden, Columbo, Singapore. It was quite, Shanghai, Hong Kong then into a place called Kure in Japan which had been a big Japanese naval base. And it had been fantastic, you know the thought of going to Japan. You know this place that we’d all heard of as you know created such, you know treated, given our boys such a bad time in the war in the Far East and it was quite a fascinating thought of going there. Anyway, arrived at Kure and going through the Japanese inland sea was quite an experience. All the little volcanic islands which were quite picturesque. Eventually landed at Kure. Anyway, we were entrained across to Miho, this ex-Japanese base and of course it’s quite interesting to see the Japanese landscape. It was very hilly and mountainous. Very forested all over. Of course it’s a volcanic, volcanic origin Japan so it is, you know it is very hilly. So we landed at Miho and I was posted on to, well basically 17 Squadron Spitfires but 11 Squadron was there as well and basically I was really working on both squadrons but administratively I was sort of on the strength of 17 Squadron. And the object of the, was although we were an occupation force the main job really was to patrol the sea around Japan off the, across the Yellow Sea and you know as far on the way across towards China and all over that area for some reason or other. But anyway, so that was very interesting being there.
Interviewer: Did you get to see much of the country at all?
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: Whilst you were there.
BS: Yes. I got, I just to go back a bit it was interesting because all these, all the domestic staff on the camp were Japanese. Ex-Japanese Army and lots and lots of Japanese, and lots and lots of Japanese girls used to come on the camp every day doing all the menial tasks. In fact, the funny thing was that the, I was a corporal when I went there still and whilst had been there nearly a year I was promoted to sergeant. After I was promoted to sergeant I was moved to the Sergeant’s Mess. I was given my own sort of room and I was issued with a room girl who used to attend to all my domestic requirements. She used to clean my room and keep doing my washing and ironing and everything else. So that was quite an experience in itself and whilst I was there we had a NAAFI canteen of course which we, which we used to use and this was staffed by English girls in the WRVS who had been sent in to to run the canteens for the troops you see. And I happened to meet the manageress of the local NAAFI canteen and get to know her quite well. Gladys. And she, like the other girls were living in the Officer’s Mess. They were given the honorary rank of flight lieutenant because there was no other sort of way we could accommodate them really.
Interviewer: The equivalent. Yeah.
BS: You see. Because the Japanese were really off limits in the sense, in the sense that when you went out in Japan we were pretty well limited to we’d go in the shops and things. We weren’t really supposed to go in their houses and that sort of thing you know. You know, we were and all our provisions were you know were provided by either America, Australia or New Zealand or Australia. They used to come from all over the, the western world one might say. Of course, the Japanese had nothing. They had only rice and fish to eat you see. Of course, they weren’t ever proper meat eaters before that. They’d sort of produced dairy herds and that sort of thing. They lived on rice and fish. Anyway, so that was the situation there. So I got to know Gladys very very well and we eventually at the time I was there we, we courted as one might say and eventually I married her in Japan. And by this time she had been sent down to Iwakuni which was the main RAF base headquarters down, down near Kure. The RAF airfield at Iwakuni and it was the Communication Flight there. They had Dakotas there which they used to supply the, communicate with the RAF other establishments in Honshu and she got posted there to the WRVS canteen there and I wangled, by this time I’d been promoted to sergeant, by this time I wangled a posting down there myself you see. I think they took pity on me at Miho. Anyway, so I was posted down to Iwakuni as well. It was at Iwakuni that Gladys and I had as service wedding. And of course the funny thing was that of course I was working on the Dakotas there and the funny thing was that she was living in the Officer’s Mess there and I I was living in the Sergeant’s Mess. So after we got married we had to go back to the same situation. The only time I could see her was in the Officer’s Mess at Iwakuni. The WRVS had a separate sort of living room you see and I could visit her in this living room, you know. The only time I could see her inside anywhere. This went on for about nearly two months after which time we came home. But it was very interesting and when we did get married there we, we had a honeymoon up at a place called Koana just outside Tokyo. This was a beautiful hotel on the shores of the Pacific. It had been built by the Japanese to house the 1940 Olympic games which never took place. To house the contestants and everybody. So this was taken over as one of the leave hostels. Of course, what happened was that when the occupation force moved into Japan they sorted out all different sort of different sort of posh places around the country for troops to have a break.
Interviewer: R&R. Yeah.
BS: And one of them was at [Kyrenia?]. At Kyoto. Beautiful old famous beauty spot in Japan and going back a bit before I was married to Gladys I had a weeks leave up at Kyoto which was very fine indeed. It was up in the American sector actually near Tokyo. Anyway, so Gladys and I went to Koana. This was an absolutely wonderful fortnight and we actually had a week at Koana and a week down in Kobi at a beautiful Japanese house which had been the residence of the Baron Simotomo who had been executed as a war criminal and they’d taken over his old house as one of the leave hostels as it were. So we had the second week of our honeymoon there and it was absolutely fantastic. But the one of the things that you could see was in the distance to the top of Mount Fuji sticking up. You know with this white top. So that was that. Anyway, when it came time to come home I, we came home on a the old Dilwara which was a properly built troop ship and they used to call it the kit badge because they painted the big blue band around. And of course, Gladys came home first class as officer status.
Interviewer: Oh very nice.
BS: Whereas I of course was on the troop deck with the senior NCOs. Second class. So she came home first class and I came home second class and the only time I could see her was on the second class promenade deck. I wasn’t allowed through to the bloody first class either [laughs] Oh dear.
Interviewer: Only the Air Force could do that.
BS: And the thing is we had of course like all ships had OC troops on board. Like all troops had a usually a colonel who sort of late on in years.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: You might say.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: And at one stage she was, poor old Gladys got seasick. She wasn’t a good sailor and I got special treatment from the OC troops to go down to her cabin to give her first aid [laughs] Oh, it was, anyway we stopped off at Singapore and Columbo and we managed to get to shore and spend a bit of time together. BS: Not much though. So the only sort of married life I had was when we got back home to England really. So, but going back to but as 17 and 11 Squadrons on American Independence Day, the 4th of July, isn’t it?
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: We were invited, the whole, both squadrons were invited up to a place called [pause] called [pause] Oh dear. The name’s gone from me for the moment but a big airfield near Tokyo which the Americans had taken over. Kizarizu. Kizarizu. That’s the name of the place. And we were invited up there to help take part in their celebrations you see. As I’ve got pictures of the two squadrons all lined up at Kizarizu. Which I, which I took when I was there. And we had a nice two or three days there really at the Americans are very —
Interviewer: Very hospitable and all that.
BS: Very very hospitable.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: And they had [pause] yes what the hell, oh yes the famous American fighter. Lightnings I think they called them.
Interviewer: P38 was the twin engine.
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: With the tail booms.
BS: That’s right. But before that going back to when I was at Miho the, the New Zealand air force they had corsairs used to land on —
Interviewer: They’re air craft carrier Corsairs yeah.
BS: And I’ve actually worked to service Corsairs as well.
Interviewer: Well, the Royal Navy had them as well of course.
BS: Yeah. That’s right. Yes.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: Yes. So a corsair. They were nice aircraft. And so anyway so after six weeks we got back to England and of course when we got back to England Gladys the WVS, she had been in the Far East you see and of course when the, when the war ended she was moved up with the occupation forces so she was there before me you see. So anyway got back to England she was, and of course she went across to her home which was at Withernsea, East Yorkshire and I went for debriefing as it were to that place up on the Wirral. An old RAF station there. What was it? I’ve forgotten the name of it now but it was it was a sort of like a distribution place you know where you used to go for debriefing after being overseas and what not.
Interviewer: Before my time.
BS: [unclear] and all that and, yes. And of course, I and then of course I went on disembarkation leave and of course I went across to Gladys’ home in Withernsea on the East Yorkshire coast and for the first time I met her parents. It was ever so funny that. And, but I must say I did enjoy my time in Japan. It was eighteen months or so. It was quite an experience. Oh yes. Another thing I forgot to mention is that when I was at Iwakuni we were very near Hiroshima and I went to Hiroshima several times and I saw it in its devastated stated and all that and going back to that time unfortunately I lost my first wife to cancer. Breast cancer. She contracted it in 1954. ’54, and she died in 1960 and at the time they did wonder if she had picked up radio activity.
Interviewer: Out in Japan.
BS: Yes. Because we went to Hiroshima several times and you know saw it and also saw Nagasaki too at one time. So, anyway but Tokyo also Tokyo was an absolute mess as well. That was bombed to hell.
Interviewer: And did you get any feeling for what the Japanese thought about the war?
BS: The Japanese. Well, typical of the Oriental mind as soon as the Emperor said stop, finished and it was all bowing and cowing. Every time you spoke to the Japanese it was always like this. Even the military. And in fact, I don’t know whether you know it but after the war was finished when we, when we sort of took back Sumatra and Java like that we used the Japanese forces to control all the blooming rebels. They came under our control and we were, we were organising all their troops that were still there and they were as obedient as anything.
Interviewer: They had a very strong sense of leadership.
BS: This was their nature. Very very strong.
Interviewer: Very hierarchical —
BS: Yes. Of course.
Interviewer: Society.
BS: The Japanese on a parade if the officer was just for you to turn around and hit the sergeant, hit a corporal the corporal would pick a private out and give him a thrashing. That’s why we used to hand the can back as I say.
Interviewer: Hand the can back. I haven’t heard that before.
BS: Oh yeah. Hand the can back. Oh yeah. Yeah. Pass the can back yes. Hand the can back. Yeah.
Interviewer: But you enjoyed your time there.
BS: Oh, I enjoyed all my Air Force career. Every bit of it. I had, I didn’t want to leave. The only reason why I left I was over fifty five, late forties when I came out it’s because we were at Wittering and we’d bought a house in Stamford. My son was at Stamford School and of course it’s a very good school.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: Stamford School. And my daughter was coming up for there and so I was due to be posted to Aden or due to be posted abroad And we didn’t want any. I didn’t think Gwen wanted to move, my second wife that is so we decided and I’d had this very good job offered me with PERA at Melton Mowbray so —
Interviewer: As we say it’s a no brainer at that stage probably to—
BS: Well, yeah.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: It was Production Engineering and Research Association and I was offered a job as a senior author there. Of course, with of my technical experience in the RAF.
Interviewer: It was time to leave.
Interviewer: Yeah. The wonderful technical training I had in the Air Force was second to none.
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: And all the way through. You had your basic training but you keep on going on course after course after course.
BS: Again, back to —
Interviewer: I mean courses had six months.
BS: Back to that old training again.
Interviewer: Yes. I mean my electronic training and technical training was second to none when I came out.
BS: Ok. Well, we’ll talk about that in the next session.
Interviewer: Yes.
[recording paused]
BS: Do a quick sort of lead into that really.
Interviewer: Ok. Well, I’m with, I’m still with Bertie Salvage and we’ve gone through the Second World War. We’ve talked a little bit about time after the Second World War and now we’re starting to talk about his —
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: Memories of the V Force and you know —
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: 1954 onwards.
BS: That’s right. Well, just to go back to 1951. I was posted out to Egypt. The Canal Zone. For three years on Deversoir on the Canal. On the Canal, you know.
Interviewer: Did that posting come out of the blue or did you ask for that?
BS: Oh no. That came out the blue because I can always remember when we came back from Japan going through the bloody Suez Canal I looked across at the bleak desert area and all the different military camps and I thought oh God I hope I never get posted here.
Interviewer: Yes. I hear that’s what most people say their first —
BS: I know I was posted out to Deversoir in Egypt. Of course, it was a bit of, a bit of a hammer blow to take but I actually it was quite nice there really. It was right on the edge of the Great Bitter Lake. I was on 249 Squadron. 213, on Vampires. And of course it was my first real, I had worked on Meteors before but it was my first real experience to be working on jet aircraft. They were lovely aircraft, the Vampire.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: Have you ever flown one?
Interviewer: No. No.
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: No.
BS: It took us, anyway so I worked on that and so in 1954 I got posted back to England and after my month’s disembarkation leave I was posted to RAF Gaydon. Never even heard of it before. But Gaydon had been a wartime station which they were re-starting again you know sort of —
Interviewer: They started to put some money into some of the —
BS: It had been held in like a sort of mothball condition.
Interviewer: Care and maintenance.
BS: Care and maintenance. Mothballed. And so they decided to start that off and start that off as as the initial V bomber training station you know. Of course, there would just be the V bombers. What happened was that the Victor, the Vulcan and the Victor were the first ones to be designed but they were going to take a long time to get into, into operations so they decided to as a stop gap to build the Valiant which Vickers had said they could build far quicker for them as a, as a stop gap and really until the Victors and the Vulcans were available. So I was posted to RAF Gaydon as an instructor on the Technical Training School. Of course it was going to be the OCU.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: The aircrew were going to be trained there and also the ground crew people servicing the aircraft you see. So I was posted on to be the instructor on instruments on the, on the Valiant first of all. So of course, when I got there I think the very first Valiant was there. Anyway, I was straightaway sent away on long courses. I had quite a few weeks down at Vickers at Weybridge where they were being made, built there. I went to different other manufacturers of different instruments and things. GPI and Mark 4s, these all sorts.
Interviewer: The navigation equipment on the aeroplane.
BS: Yeah. Yes. And also the NBS bombing system which they used. And so I went on these long courses and I got back to Gaydon eventually and by that time of course I think another sort of couple of others were there or something and we set up the school. And I was in instruments, we had all the other trades, instruments, air frames, armaments you know and so of course I had to straight away set about creating all my instruction notes, my instruction techniques and programmes. All the, when you go in to instructing you have that all to do.
Interviewer: Yes. I remember that. Yes.
BS: Because, [unclear] because you really start to learn other things you know. You really start to realise how much do I know about my job and that sort of thing. And when it came to start teaching of course it was, it was a bit tough at first but I really got into it you know.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: And I got so used to writing up the authorship, authoring my own notes that it I found it very interesting indeed.
Interviewer: And working with the manufacturers is normally quite —
BS: Oh yeah.
Interviewer: You get a lot of job satisfaction if you —
BS: Yeah. I went to Coventry to HSD, Hawker Siddeley Dynamics and everywhere and also to [pause] no that was later on I went to Ferranti when I was on the Blue Steel. So, you know. So, yes you got used to it. I spent quite a month or two I suppose going around different manufacturers. Cheltenham down to —
Interviewer: Smiths.
BS: To Smiths. Yeah.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: You know, all sorts of different places. Anyway, of course you collate all this knowledge, put it all together and you know and, and the first day I had to instruct, you know the chaps are sitting there. I thought it was, you know it was quite an experience really.
Interviewer: And what rank are you by now?
BS: I was still a sergeant.
Interviewer: Still a sergeant. Yeah.
BS: Yes. Promotion was a bit slow and anyway I was going to go for the chief tech which I got a bit later on.
Interviewer: And what was living I mean England was still rationing going on in this period.
BS: Yeah, so what happened was when I first went to Gaydon of course there were no married quarters so they said to us go and find yourself a hiring somewhere and we’ll take it on. So I looked around South Warwickshire. I don’t know whether you know South Warwickshire. It’s a lovely county.
Interviewer: Not really. It’s a nice part of the world though, isn’t it?
BS: [unclear] and all down Stratford Upon Avon. All down that way because we were near Stratford you see and so I found myself a little —
Interviewer: This was before the M40 of course.
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: I found myself a little village called, down near Moreton in the Marsh called called Brailes and I found a little tiny cottage there. A country cottage. And so I moved Gladys down there, my wife with, who had our first boy then, our son by then. She was also, no she had got the two boys by then. We had two sons. So she came and so I was living out. It was about twelve miles away from there so I used to go in and backwards and forwards to Gaydon every day. So we were living in married and they started to build married quarters but they weren’t going to be ready for another year you see. So, so that went on really and of course getting to know the aircraft better and the chaps coming through. It used to be a fortnight, two weeks course or two or three weeks and then would be about a week and then have another lot come in then.
Interviewer: And is National Service still going on at this stage?
BS: And I’m going to say this, oh yes, National Service run to 1960 ’61. So National Service but what impressed me was a lot of national service chaps coming through HN, Higher National Certificate. Well trained chaps.
Interviewer: Chaps that decided to join the Air Force rather than —
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: And they were a two year commitment were they?
BS: The two year commitment.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: But they were most interesting to teach because they were so receptive. I bet you could tell them something they’d know straightaway through their engineering background. They were a joy to teach really you know. They were so good. It’s like it was during the war of course where they had all these skilled people in from outside and —
Interviewer: The interesting thing to me if people joined on a two year National Service if they spent a year or eighteen months training they would be only be productive for six months.
BS: Oh, I know. That’s right. Well, they used to spend about six months training I suppose up to the basic mechanics but I’d get these chaps in and you know they were highly really highly qualified.
Interviewer: And of course, in the early 50s of course, there was a massive expansion of the Air Force because of Korea.
BS: Oh yes. That’s right.
Interviewer: And a lot of training schools were set up then.
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: A lot of aircrew were pumped through.
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: And obviously there would have been all the Meteor training outfits.
BS: That’s right. Yes. So I was at, I was at Leconfield when the Korean War was on and we sent aircraft. Oh yes, when I was at Gaydon the Suez Crisis erupted.
Interviewer: ’56.
BS: Well, because I’d just come back from Suez only the previous year.
Oh, of course. Yes.
BS: And I was, I got we went through quite a lot of trouble out there with it before it fully broke out really. You know had a lot of trouble really. Anyway, but the Suez Crisis broke out and of course we had to get involved in that and we sent two or three Valiants out there with bombed up and ready to go and you know.
Interviewer: They went to Malta, didn’t they?
BS: They went to Malta.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: Yes. The service sort of evolved in that. So after, oh about 1957 or thereabouts we had the first Victors and so yes I also went then. I went on. I was taken off and went on the quite a few [unclear] of course to Handley Page at Radlett and did the Victor. On the Victor. So when I came back I was trained up on the Victor but what happened was that because it was a bit of a struggle to teach on two aircraft like that because we still had the Valiants there. A few Valiants. They had another chap come in to supplement me to, you know on the Victor so I did a bit of teaching on the Victor but this other guy sort of did more and more of that really on the actual instrumentation side. So I still sort of really concentrated on the Valiant. But I did, when he was away I used to do the Victor as well you know. So but very similar the systems really you know. Particularly the NBS system and the navigation equipment and everything else and basically the flying was pretty much it was just the layouts and things. But general principles were the same. So it was all very interesting though while I was there. So I suppose do you want me to go on from there?
Interviewer: Yeah, I just wondered, you know —
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: So how long did you stay on at Gaydon?
BS: Sorry?
Interviewer: How long did you spend at Gaydon then?
BS: At Gaydon, I was, what happened was when I was at Gaydon unfortunately while I was there my first wife contracted cancer and she was given basically first of all two years to live then she actually lived for five so although I was really screened on this instructing job. It was how shall I put it? More heavily emphasised that I was screened because of Gladys’ illnesses.
Interviewer: Yeah. Domestic situation. Yeah.
BS: And through that time I was put up for a branch commission in the engineering branch but I had to turn it down because I couldn’t leave my wife, you see.
Interviewer: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
BS: So that, so that was that but anyway that didn’t matter. So that was that so, and then, so she died in 1960 and eventually I left in 1962. I was posted to RAF Newton. Not got posted but I was despatched there on the Skybolt course because I was designated. Because of my experience of technical you know side of thing they decreed that I should go on the Skybolt.
Interviewer: They needed someone to bring Skybolt into service.
BS: So I went to Newton for six months. I’d all the instrumentation electronic side of control and guidance of the Skybolt missile.
Interviewer: And did you get out to America?
BS: No.
Interviewer: During that time.
BS: Unfortunately, I got back to Gaydon and we were given a couple of weeks to pack up and we’d packed up almost with a few, well with a week I think of going to America. My wife was, well the whole family was going to go together to Denver in Colorado and then after that we were going to go down to Florida to Eginton or Eglington.
Interviewer: Eglin.
BS: Eglin.
Interviewer: Not Elgin. Eglin.
BS: We had to go to Eglin.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: Down on the Caribbean.
Interviewer: On the —
BS: Yes. Where we were —
Interviewer: The Florida coast.
BS: Two years and got fully Skybolt trained to come but a week or two before they decided to ditch Skybolt in favour of the Polaris for the submarine as a strategic missile.
Interviewer: Well, my understanding is Skybolt isn’t doing very well and —
BS: Yeah. Yeah.
Interviewer: JFK met with Macmillan.
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: And —
BS: Yeah. That’s right.
Interviewer: JFK offered, the Americans offered to give the Brits the chance to develop it and, and Macmillan thought the best way out of that was to buy Polaris instead.
BS: That’s right. Yes.
Interviewer: Which JFK agreed to.
BS: Yes. So that’s why I didn’t go. So that, so that was that finished. So of course I was then it was a few weeks in. I was a chief technician by this time well I had been for a flight sergeant. Anyway, so I think because of my Skybolt experience they decided that I should go to Blue Steel.
Interviewer: Quite logical. Yes.
BS: Yes, so because of my, so back I went to Newton and because I’d already done the Skybolt six months I was spared the initial training on Blue Steel because it was still the basic sort of training on electronics you see.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: So I went back to Newton for three months on the Blue Steel system itself. So I went back in, that was 1963 and I went back until March 1964 or March or April of ’64. So I learned all the, when I was involved on Blue Steel what was the control, the guidance system. The inertial navigation system, the control system which was the gyro control like auto pilot.
Interviewer: You had an inertia navigator didn’t it?
BS: Oh yes. Yeah, I did, I had to go to Ferrantis for that, you know. And also the flight rules computer. I was involved with all this, that [unclear] on that so I was really fully technically trained on the control and guidance system of the Blue System. I don’t think there’s many people left.
Interviewer: Just a handful I think probably that remember it.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: In any details.
BS: Anyway, so that was very interestingly and fantastically the courses I went on what you learned.
Interviewer: Who built the missile Blue Steel? Do you remember?
BS: It was HSD, Coventry.
Interviewer: Oh, Hawker Siddeley. Yeah.
BS: Yes. So, we went across there again as well. So, so I went back to Newton for that and eventually then I got posted to, well it was either Scampton or Wittering. We didn’t know. Anyway, I was, I was posted to Scampton, to Wittering. But of course, all the time I was at Wittering we had this strong liaison with Waddington with, with Scampton.
Interviewer: Scampton.
BS: Because I mean the systems on the two were, the Blue Steels were identical really. I mean —
Interviewer: A missile is identical it’s just —
BS: A missile. Yes.
Interviewer: It’s just a question of how it plugged in to the aeroplane.
BS: That’s right. Yes. But so when I went to Wittering they had built a huge new hangar there with all the servicing workshops and offices. Administrative parts and also the HTP as you called it.
Interviewer: High test peroxide.
BS: Yeah. The —
Interviewer: The Gin Palace.
BS: The Gin Palace. Yes. That was right next to the hangar and they were closely associated so I was straightway when I went to Wittering I was put in the, they had a, you know the laboratories and the calibration rooms of the workshops for the controls guidance systems. And so I was put in, I was put in charge of that really and you know obviously had staff who would be trained up like me but so for several, a year or two I was involved in the service and maintenance of the systems going on the missile.
Interviewer: And can you remember any test firings and things like that?
BS: Well, yes. I didn’t actually. I think they took off from the Welsh coast didn’t they?
Interviewer: They would have fired probably some in the Aberporth range.
BS: Yeah. The Aberporth ranges. Yes.
Interviewer: Yeah but —
BS: But I never went over there. Some people did but I never got in because I was involved in the, in the servicing.
Interviewer: Servicing.
BS: Testing and calibration of the systems really, you know.
Interviewer: And it was quite a complicated piece of kit, was it? My understanding was that you had to align the inertial and fly [unclear] and then —
BS: Oh lord. Oh yes. Yes. You did. Yes. You did all that and of course we had in the iron department as we called it we had a higher complex system of calibration instruments to land the [tryoscopic] the brake hold, brake control charge had to be absolutely perfectly set up and [unclear] you know you set that with the oscilloscopes and that sort of thing and the Flight Rules Computer, the FRC, what happened was that the, the Blue Steel would be dropped from about forty thousand feet. The motor would kick in, climb up to about sixty thousand, fly for about two hundred miles, then freefall on the target. That was the [pause] Now as soon as it was launched they got up to altitude then the control system would fit in, it would click in to the control and guide the thing directed by the Flight Rules Computer which was the FRC. So the computer would take it to target with the controls being functioned by the control system provided.
Interviewer: And Ferranti I presume did all the, did that part of the —
BS: That’s right. Yes. Yes, it’s from the [INC] to the FRC to the control system and they did. Everything would lock off at a certain point and it would just freefall on to target. That’s the, that was the theory. But so all three were closely combined really. [INC[ IN, THE FRC, the control system.
Interviewer: And how did they get on regarding the aeroplane and guiding the missile when it was loaded with its, with the weapon?
BS: Well, I’ve been, well let’s put it this way I never actually went out to the, out of the QRA system. What happened was that there used to be at least one, perhaps sometimes two at the end of the runway. Quick Retaliation Aircraft they called it. The QRA. And there was always an aircraft, one or two out there all the time.
Interviewer: Loaded up and ready to go.
BS: And the crew on board as well. Ready to go within minutes you know. To take off and there would have been a guard out there I assume. I never actually went out there.
Interviewer: So if you had to service the missile —
BS: Oh yes.
Interviewer: The warhead would be taken off.
BS: Oh lord, yes. Well, I was all the time you never did any servicing unless the missile was actually in the hangar. Not to the point of its control system. Oh yes. They’d take the pod out and then they’d bring the missile in. The pod was put in, you know —
Interviewer: So the warhead was called the pod, was it?
BS: The pod.
Interviewer: Ok.
BS: The pod, yeah. I saw several. Well, I saw. I never had anything to do with them but I mean they used to keep we had the bomb dump at Wittering. It’s still there I think.
Interviewer: Yeah. Yeah.
BS: The Navy used to, the Navy used it.
Interviewer: Well, the bomb dump at Wittering was used, you know.
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: It was the first bomb dump for the first nuclear weapons.
BS: I think it’s still functioning is it? They, I think they were —
Interviewer: I’m not too sure what it’s used for now.
BS: I think I’ve seen Navy vehicles going in there. Yeah.
Interviewer: Yeah. Quite possibly being used as a storage area.
BS: Yes. Yeah. Oh yes. Yes. It was. I never actually went in it but I, you know, I know where it was [unclear] but I never actually went inside but yes they used to. There was a lot of, a lot of fuss when they used to be loading them up with the pod you know but that was quite, and then of course as I was saying what [pause] what was it? About 1967 or thereabouts they decided that they wanted more people to come into the system. Technicians you know. And they decided to set up the Blue Steel Training School. Technical Training School at Wittering. In the Blue Steel hangar. And I was appointed, because of my instructing experience, my vast experience they asked me to set it up and run it as as organiser and also to instruct myself as a flight sergeant at this time. Instruct. Instruct. Instruct on it you see as well as organise all the other trades. So we, we, we have this scheme running. We used to have them in for about a week or two and teach them the systems, you know. So I was running that, the Technical Training School there because of my experience.
Interviewer: And did that do that do, that did all the training for Blue Steel so chaps would come down from Scampton and to do the course with you.
BS: Well, I think Scampton had, I think they must have had their own scheme because I don’t remember people coming from Scampton. I think they had their own scheme running up there. I’m pretty sure because I was just really involved with those coming into Wittering really. But I’m sure they must have done. So I was heavily involved with that. So you see my experience is very deep on the technical side on the ring of steel.
Interviewer: The thing that appeals to me is the fact that you started on learning your trade back in 1939.
BS: That’s right. Yes.
Interviewer: And here we are thirty years on.
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: Still using the basics of electrics.
BS: Oh, that’s right.
Interviewer: But applying it into a much more modern system.
BS: Oh, [unclear] all, I mean I didn’t know a thing about electronics and a finite mechanism you know and the correlation between the two mechanics to electrics and backwards and forwards. You know what I mean.
Interviewer: The beginning of digital computing.
BS: The transfers, oh yes. Oh yes. That was a appealing. The FRC was. Of course, it was all sort of transistors then. You know, transistor technology. So, you know and, and of course, you know apart from being taught you learn a lot through reading too. You know, it’s all —
Interviewer: And you must have seen a terrific change in the Air Force to have gone from the Second World War.
BS: Oh, right through.
Interviewer: To the time of Korea.
BS: Oh yes.
Interviewer: And conscription still going on.
BS: Listen, this is about me. I think —
Interviewer: National Service.
BS: I went through the most fascinating period really right through to, you know from basic things like this blooming Valentia.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: To —
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: To, to V bombers, you know. And of course, at Cosford they have the, the Cold War hangar there.
Interviewer: They do, yes. Yeah.
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: I’ve been just the once.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: And I must go again.
BS: Yes, I, pardon?
Interviewer: I’ve just been the once and I must go again.
BS: Yeah, well you see my daughter lives at Lichfield so it’s only just a stone’s throw from there so when I go, I’ve been once or twice you know. She takes me there. Yes and of course they’ve got a Blue Steel there. And I’ll tell you where else I saw Blue Steel. Out at Newark. You know out at Newark.
Interviewer: At the Air Museum.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: I think there’s one.
BS: I found it a pretty tatty when I went down.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: [unclear]
Interviewer: That’s the problem with museums. They get things in quite bad condition sometimes.
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: And they have to allocate them time.
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: To renovate them.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: And bring them up to —
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: Their former glory.
BS: And the amazing thing is, or the sad thing is that there’s only one Valiant and that’s at Cosford. That’s the only one. The only is one that is in existence now.
Interviewer: Well, the problem with you know the large aeroplanes is that if you leave them out in the open —
BS: Oh aye, well —
Interviewer: They rot very quickly.
BS: They do.
Interviewer: So I know the Irish museum —
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: Say they have a problem with big aeroplanes.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: They just don’t have the room for them all.
BS: No. No.
Interviewer: And they’re wondering when the TriStar retires.
BS: That’s right.
Interviewer: Where they’re going to have space to put one of those.
BS: Yes. Yes. So you know so when the Blue Steel they decided to start phasing about ’69 ’70. I just stayed on for a bit longer then I decided to retire from the Air Force.
Interviewer: Time for pastures new.
BS: Didn’t really want to go but I was really, circumstances made it. But fortunately, I went in to a very very good job at PERA and of course [pause] do you want me to go on?
Interviewer: Yes. Keep going.
BS: When I went to PERA at Melton Mowbray I don’t know whether you know or have heard of it.
Interviewer: No, I’ve not heard of them.
BS: Production Engineering and Research Association. They trouble shoot for the engineering industry. They’ve experts in every field.
Interviewer: And did, did they approach you or did you hear about it?
BS: No. I heard about them so I approached them and they wanted to interview me and I got the job before I left the Air Force.
Interviewer: Fabulous.
BS: Yeah. So that was it. So I, they have this, all these different departments for troubleshoot. Expert top engineers and you know —
Interviewer: Sounds a fantastic organisation.
BS: These particularly the machine tool industry would send people there on courses and they would have experts from PERA go to different factories to give them advice on production engineering.
Interviewer: Sounds fantastic.
BS: So they always had this large technical authorship department as well which they write up handbooks for different industries you know. So I applied but of course because of my RAF experience they had a contract. They had a contract with the Admiralty.
Interviewer: Right.
BS: To write up the manuals for the nuclear submarines at Barrow. So I was sent up to bloody Barrow in Furness on this contract. I was on HMS Churchill for months writing up the control systems on the nuclear submarines of the of the CO2 scrubber systems. You know the air is scrubbed clean and it’s ejected into the deep water to leave the oxygen to go back into the, into the hull. You know. And I wrote up all these you see because of my experience. But you know so that was a very fascinating really. So, so anyway after a couple of years I one of the member firms was a firm called Newall Engineering Group at Peterborough here. They wrote, they produced these, these very very sophisticated machine tools. Grinders and jig borers and things like that for the machine tool for the mainly for the automotive industry. You know, car factories. So they were a member firm of PERA and they were looking for a, and we used to write books for them. But they wanted their own chief author you see. So I applied and I got the job. I wanted to come nearer home.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: I was so fed up with —
Interviewer: Yes. Yeah, you get —
BS: Yeah.
Interviewer: Commuting gets a bit wearing.
BS: That’s right. It’s interesting but you know.
Interviewer: No I thought —
BS: So I thought I would come so it was a very very good job and I’d be my own boss there you know and [unclear] so I went to PERA. I went to —
Interviewer: Right.
BS: Newalls at Peterborough and I had to really convert my mind but using basic engineering knowledge to these highly sophisticated machine tools. Jig borers and high speed grinders which used to grind crank shafts and [cannon] shafts. And that was fascinating because you use your basic engineering knowledge. Although I didn’t know anything about them you still get through.
Interviewer: Yeah, its —
BS: You, you have to spend all the time in the drawing office with them and the designers. The people and really pick their brains really.
Interviewer: But if you’d been trained well in the first place it’s not difficult —
BS: Oh no.
Interviewer: To pick up something new is it?
BS: No. No. Not at all.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: And the idea being that you were, you could have this information, collate it write it in a presentable form you know people could read and understand, take it back and do you understand? Can you read it? And they would make, they would criticise.
Interviewer: Yeah.
BS: You know so you —
Interviewer: Critique.
BS: So that’s right so then you produce the complete manual. The interesting thing was that we supplied the machines all over the world to, to China, to, to Russia, to, to Sweden, to France to, you know all sorts of places we sold machines to, particularly Russia.
Interviewer: Did you get to travel there?
BS: Oh no. I didn’t unfortunately.
Interviewer: No.
BS: But my books of course had to be translated in to the —
Interviewer: The native language.
BS: Exactly. So as soon as I had produced a manual for machines that were going somewhere I had to get it and I had to go to the translator, we used to translate it in London. I used to go down to the translators, get the books translated, bring it back and then all us engineers used to come across you know to check the machines before going to the different countries. And they’d want to read the manual so you had to give them the manual in their language for to see if they understood you know and usually you know they went down pretty well really. And the thing is that trans, technical translation is not like ordinary translation it has to be done by A — a national of the country concerned which was just going plus the fact it has to be an engineer.
Interviewer: Yes. You’ve got it. Yes.
BS: So you’ve got to have the two. There’s no good getting a chap whose learned Russian or French to do it.
Interviewer: Yes.
BS: It’s got to be a national of the country concerned.
Interviewer: Have you ever read any books, manuals on Japanese hifi you’ll know.
BS: Oh, I know.
Interviewer: It says press button B to —
BS: In my experience I’m, oh I’m very critical of that. Very critical. So that was that really. So —
Interviewer: Well, very well. Thanks for telling me about your, a little bit of time about your time after you left the Air Force.
BS: Yes.
Interviewer: Thank you.
BS: Yeah.
Dublin Core
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Title
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Interview with Bertie Salvage
Salvage, Bertie-Cold War-World War II
Identifier
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SHarriganD[Ser#-DoB]v67
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Language
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eng
Type
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Sound
Format
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01:38:46 audio recording
Conforms To
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Pending revision of OH transcription
Pending OH summary
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.
Description
An account of the resource
Bertie Salvage joined the RAF in 1939 as an apprentice and initially began his technical training at RAF Cranwell before training was transferred to RAF Halton and also shortened because of the start of the Second World War. Bertie was present when Lord Trenchard addressed the ground staff at the station. Bertie was sent to South Africa to work on aircraft there for the Empire Training Scheme. He was then posted to Japan in the post war years. He progressed in his career with post war aircraft including the V bombers and then on to missiles systems such as Skybolt and Blue Steel.
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
1941
1943
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
South Africa
Japan
England--Buckinghamshire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Norfolk
England--Southend-on-Sea
Contributor
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Julie Williams
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
This Interview was recorded by Aviation Heritage Lincolnshire.
218 Squadron
ground personnel
military living conditions
RAF Cranwell
RAF Halton
RAF Marham
training
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/129/1282/MFlowersHJ[Ser -DoB]-160630-010001.jpg
790ab2392af246da44ba0f665a12afd9
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/129/1282/MFlowersHJ[Ser -DoB]-160630-010002.jpg
4813109d8c652615e02d11e1e1602107
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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Flowers, James
H J Flowers
Horrace James Flowers
Harry James Flowers
Description
An account of the resource
15 items. The collection concerns the wartime experiences of Flight Sergeant Horace James Flowers, a rear gunner with 50 Squadron at RAF Skellingthorpe. The collection consists of one oral history interview, a propaganda leaflet and nine photographs. The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by James Flowers and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
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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Flowers, HJ
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Transcribed document
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
THE REAL GERMAN
THE ECONOMIC LEAGUE 1941
War Series No. 23
Anyone who has followed the trend of German propaganda since the outbreak of war will have noticed all along that the Nazis have sought to pretend that their war is not a war against the British people, but, to quote their words, “against the plutocratic gang led by Churchill”. They have also pretended that they do not desire to destroy the British Empire, but only to eliminate British influence from Europe. It is evident that even in this country some people have been misled by this propaganda. The “why not make peace now?” propaganda of the Peace Pledge Union, and the still sometimes-heard voice with its plea “the Germans really aren’t such bad people” is evidence of it. So is the activity of the Reds. But now the mask is off. The chief editor of the Volkischer Beobachter, Goebbel’s own newspaper, has declared:-
“Germany is now prepared to cause the final defeat of England, and is determined to have a formidable Day of Judgment not only on Churchill and his followers, but on the British nation. We will bring to England a revolution of blood and tears which as a punishment will reduce the British population to degradation and poverty.”
We ask you to read these words carefully, and then to read them again. If you know any members of Communist organisations, of the Peace Pledge Union and any other pacifist groups, who are directly or indirectly assisting the enemy cause, ask them to read these words as well and ponder on what they mean. Show them also to any of your mates who are given to absenteeism, to taking it easy on the job.
BRITAIN’S FATE
Dr. Ley, the Nazi Minister of Labour, has told us what Britain’s fate would be if Germany won:-
“It is a fight for the destruction of England, the leadership of the world, and the domination of our race. If there be a God and a Providence, then must He give to the higher race higher rights.”
(Leipziger Neuste Nachrichten, 9.2.40.)
In another speech Ley disclosed the rate the Nazis have in store for a defeated Britain. He said:-
“England must be destroyed, and become once more that unknown green island that she was centuries ago.” (Angriff, 20.12.39)
Let us consider this statement side by side with one from the official Nazi organ, Wirtschaftsdienst, on 4th November, 1940:-
“World trade will be directed by Germany, who will make suitable arrangements with Norway for the use of Norway’s merchant fleet. Norway may be allowed to sell wood and pulp overseas with Grossraum support. Only such industries will be permitted for which Norway has natural qualifications. Norwegian water-power, once it is fully developed, will supply the German electro-thermic and other industries.”
Now let us re-write this extract in the light of the absolute and concrete evidence the Economic League has of the Nazi plans for the exploitation of Britain:-
“World trade will be directed by Germany, who will make suitable arrangements with Britain for the use of Britain’s merchant fleet. Britain may be allowed to sell agricultural products abroad with Grossraum support. Only such industries, i.e., agriculture and coal-mining, will be permitted, for which Britain has natural qualifications. The British coal industry will supply the German iron and steel and other industries.”
This isn’t exaggeration. It is plain, sober fact.
What would happen to the British standard of living? Substitute the words British and Britain for Dutch and Norway, and Britons for Poles, in the following extracts, and you will get the answer:-
“The standard of living of the Dutch people must be lowered if the conquered country is to supply Germany with food.” (Der Deutsche Volkswirt, 17.5.40.)
“Norway will be adjusted to the continental price level, wages will be reduced, and Norway will no longer be allowed a higher standard of living than the continental countries.” (Wirtshaftsdienst, 4.11.40.)
“A lower race needs less room, less clothing, less food and less culture than a higher race. The German cannot live under the same conditions as the Pole.” (Angriff, 31.1.40.)
“We must make the Pole feel that we are masters, and he must work for us. If he meets a German on the pavement, the Pole must step aside.” (Litzmannstaedter Zeitung, 25.10.40.)
What would this mean? The present state of Holland, Norway and Poland under German subjection provides the answer.
A LETTER FROM POLAND
Now read the following letter, recently smuggled out of Poland, written by a well-educated woman who before the invasion managed a large estate:-
“Forgive the scribble, but an opportunity has come to let you have a letter, so I have sat down straight to write it from the rough work which I have to do now. But my hands are shaking, and besides I am sitting low and writing on my knees. We haven’t any table, and we sit on our beds, for we haven’t any chairs either. It makes life very difficult when you haven’t got anything, or anything to cook with. Fuel is difficult, too. You may have heard that we are living in the forest, in a hut which is more like a shed; there are great cracks in the walls. You can guess that it is very difficult to get warm enough even to be able to take off our overcoats for a little while. All our anxiety is to get food for the children. Our means are coming to an end and we don’t know what will happen then. We continually console ourselves with the thought that spring and summer are near; there will be berries and so on, and it is always easier to manage then. At present all our efforts are concentrated on filling the children’s bellies. We are selling what is left of our wardrobe; our coats, clothing and boots, and that will help for a while … but I don’t dare to think what will happen after … The children are a continual anxiety, they haven’t anything even to read, and of course are not getting any education. They help as best they can in our present life, they fetch water, collect brushwood for fires, help in the cleaning, and so on. I have to do everything, and in particular I do all the fetching and carrying; that is safer for me to do than any of the others, for I am over forty. At times the journey is very hard, recently I had to go to the town, five kilometres, and the snowdrifts were so deep that I hardly got there. I always return home dreading that I shall not find them all there. The older boys are already as tall as their father, though they are still so young, and with the continually increasing forced deportations we never know how long we shall have them with us. That is the worst of all, this everlasting threat hanging over us. And Marysia also is fifteen and … she is very good-looking. And such terrible things are happening. And there are other dangers and fears. There has been a new wave of general deportations and it is again getting near here. Shall we be able to escape it?”
Imagine your family in this condition, and remember that the Germans have declared quite openly that Poland would be a paradise compared with what they would make of a defeated Britain. Remember the Nazis’ aim as expressed in their own words. To “reduce the British population to degradation and poverty.” That applies to every man, woman and child in this island.
OUR TASK
The fighting man in the front line, the worker, employer and employee in the factory, the woman in the home, the civil defence army at its posts of duty, each and all of us are fighting for our lives. We are fighting to lift a dark and evil shadow from the face of Europe. We are fighting so that our children and our children’s children can breathe the sweet air of freedom. We cannot rest on our arms for a single moment until Nazi Germany is defeated. Let us be very proud of the job or work we have got to do. Let us do that job with a determination, thoroughness and energy never before excelled. Let us give of our best every moment, every hour, of the day. Let us prove ourselves worthy of Britain’s “finest hour.”
Don’t waste this Leaflet. Pass it on.
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 Real German. War series 23
Description
An account of the resource
British propaganda leaflet starts by describing trend in German propaganda that they are not trying to destroy the British Empire but are fighting the Churchill plutocratic gang, Continues with quotes from German ministers and publications concerning German plans for control of world trade. Goes on to quote a letter smuggled from Poland describing their difficult experiences after German invasion. Concludes with exhortation to all British people to exert maximum effort.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
The Economic League
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1941
Format
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One leaflet
Type
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Text
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MFlowersHJ[Ser#-DoB]-160630-01
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Civilian
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
1941
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Sue Smith
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.
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
propaganda
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/541/26034/MPeadonAH1578531-160504-01.2.pdf
24038ebd2047e3e37ac1be11dfc64dae
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
Peadon, Alec Henry
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
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Peadon, AH
Description
An account of the resource
21 items. An oral history interview with Sybil Green (b. 1929), photographs and documents. Her Brother, Sergeant Alec Henry Peadon was killed 31 August 1943 when his 78 Squadron Halifax was shot down over Belgium. <br /><br /><span>The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Sybil Green and catalogued</span> by Barry Hunter. <br /><br />Additional information on <a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/221937/">Alec Henry Peadon</a> is available via the IBCC Losses Database.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-05-04
2016-06-22
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
BOOK OF REMEMBRANCE
[crest]
THE CITY SCHOOL
LINCOLN
[page break]
[blank page]
[page break]
BOOK OF REMEMBRANCE
THE CITY SCHOOL
LINCOLN
[page break]
[blank page]
[page break]
In affectionate remembrance of the old boys of the School who lost their lives in the War 1939-45
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori
[page break]
ROLL OF HONOUR.
Philip Norman Allen
Henry Lawrence Andrews
George Edward Armitage
Bertram Beaver Holland Batt
Leslie William Batty
Herbert William Beasley
Denis Bell
Leonard Bescoby
Edgar Blackburn
Frank William Boddy
Harold Boddy
Jack Alex Brelsford
Charles Frederick Brown
Harold Ernest Brumpton
Thomas William Brumwell
Arthur Robert Bullock
John Fawcett Burn
Herbert Laurence Cairns
Hubert Edward Carrott
Ronald Etheridge Chesser
Basil Geoffrey Clark
Ralph Gordon Collingham
Marshall Crawshaw
George Leslie Crosby
Frank Roy Daughton
Albert John De Cann
George Bedingfield Dennis
Albert Dickinson
Herbert Leonard Dickinson
John Walter Dixon
Charles Douglas Dowse
Lionel Anthony Ellingworth
Frederick Charles Forman
Frank Fountaine
Douglas Alfred German
Errol John Goulding
Leonard Richard Ironmonger
[page break]
Robert William Jackson
Stanley Jebson
Kenneth William Jellis
Joseph Holland Johnson
Ronald George Keen
Jack Kelway
Jack Lister
Charles Hugh Markham
Eric Joseph Miles
John Richard Neave
Desmond Roderick Neve
Leonard Ottey
George Edward Owen
Thomas Leslie Panting
Jack Pattison
Alex Henry Peadon
Joseph Raby
David Reed
George Eric Scott
Andrew James Sistron
Arthur Roy Skelton
Arthur Raymond Spencer
Eric Stanley Spilman
Robert Donald Stokes
Benjamin Clayton Swallow
Herbert Fletcher Tait
Geoffrey Bavin Taylor
Arthur John Teasdel
Bernard William Todd
Roland Henry Turnell
Edward George Ufton
Geoffrey Ward
Robert Lee Wellington
Norman Maxwell Wescombe
Donald West
Robert Arthur Wheeler
Harry Wilson
John Winn
[page break]
[blank page]
[page break]
[photograph]
PHILIP NORMAN ALLEN
1936-41
Lance Corporal 10th Durham Light Infantry
Killed in action in Normandy
[italics] June [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 19
[page break]
[photograph]
HENRY LAWRENCE ANDREWS
1930-36
L.A.C. Royal Air Force
Died of pneumonia following discharge
[italics] January [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 23
[page break]
[photograph]
GEORGE EDWARD ARMITAGE
1931-38
Lieutenant 17/21st Lancers (Royal Armoured Corps)
Died of wounds in Italy
[italics] June [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 24
[page break]
[photograph]
BERTRAM BEAVER HOLLAND BATT
1927-30
Captain Royal Engineers
Accidently killed in Brussels
[italics] July [/italics] 1945 [italics] Aged [/italics] 33
[page break]
[photograph]
LESLIE WILLIAM BATTY
1927-31
Leading Seaman Royal Navy
Presumed killed in action off Normandy
[italics] June [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 29
[page break]
[photograph]
HERBERT WILLIAM BEASLEY
1922-26
Sergeant Royal Air Force
Missing on an operational flight
[italics] June [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 32
[page break]
[photograph]
DENIS BELL
1934-39
Bombardier Royal Artillery
Killed in action near Caen
[italics] July [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
LEONARD BESCOBY
1920-24
Pilot Officer Royal Air Force
Killed whilst flying in the Middle East
[italics] June [/italics] 1942 [italics] Aged [/italics] 34
[page break]
[photograph]
EDGAR BLACKBURN
1930-35
Sergeant Royal Army Medical Corps
Died in Calcutta
[italics] September [/italics] 1945 [italics] Aged [/italics] 27
[page break]
[photograph]
FRANK WILLIAM BODDY
1935-39
Flight Sergeant Royal Air Force
Missing on an operational flight
[italics] November [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 19
[page break]
[photograph]
HAROLD BODDY
1923-27
Major York and Lancaster Regiment
Accidentally killed near Cairo
[italics] January [/italics] 1945 [italics] Aged [/italics] 32
[page break]
[photograph]
JACK ALEX BRELSFORD
1932-39
Captain Lincolnshire Regiment
Drowned in the River Mott, New Guinea
[italics] February [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 23
[page break]
[photograph]
CHARLES FREDERICK BROWN
1927-33
Corporal Royal Army Medical Corps
Killed in an air raid on London
[italics] November [/italics] 1940 [italics] Aged [/italics] 24
[page break]
[photograph]
HAROLD ERNEST BRUMPTON
1933-39
Signalman Royal Corps of Signals
Died of wounds in Italy
[italics] September [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
THOMAS WILLIAM BRUMWELL
1926-33
Flying Officer Royal Air Force
Killed on active service
[italics] April [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 29
[page break]
[photograph]
ARTHUR ROBERT BULLOCK
1930-36
Student Teacher at the School 1936-38
A.C.1 Royal Air Force
Presumed drowned at sea
[italics] July [/italics] 1941 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
JOHN FAWCETT BURN
1934-39
Trooper Royal Armoured Corps
Killed in action at Anzio
[italics] February [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 20
[page break]
[photograph]
HERBERT LAURENCE CAIRNS
1934-39
Flying Officer Royal Air Force
Missing on a raid over Berlin
[italics] January [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
HUBERT EDWARD CARROTT
1931-36
Flying Officer Royal Air Force
Missing on an operational flight
[italics] October [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 23
[page break]
[photograph]
RONALD ETHERIDGE CHESSER
1927-32
Flying Officer Royal Air Force
Killed on returning from operational flight
[italics] August [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 27
[page break]
[photograph]
BASIL GEOFFREY CLARK
1931-37
Gunner Royal Artillery
Died from illness contracted on active service
[italics] May [/italics] 1942 [italics] Aged [/italics] 22
[page break]
[photograph]
RALPH GORDON COLLINGHAM
1933-38
Pilot Officer Royal Air Force
Missing on a flight in India
[italics] August [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 22
[page break]
[photograph]
MARSHALL CRAWSHAW
(A Master of the School)
Leading Naval Airman Fleet Air Arm
Accidently killed whilst flying in Trinidad
[italics] February [/italics] 1942 [italics] Aged [/italics] 29
[page break]
[photograph]
GEORGE LESLIE CROSBY
1931-38
Pilot Officer Royal Air Force
Missing on an air raid on Norway
[italics] April [/italics] 1940 [italics] Aged [/italics] 20
[page break]
[photograph]
FRANK ROY DAUGHTON
1925-30
Pilot Officer Royal Air Force
Killed in action in North Africa.
[italics] March [/italics] 1944. [italics] Aged [/italics] 30
[page break]
[photograph]
ALBERT JOHN DE CANN
1932-37
Sergeant Royal Air Force
Missing on an operational flight
[italics] February [/italics] 1942 [italics] Aged [/italics] 22
[page break]
[photograph]
GEORGE BEDINGFIELD DENNIS
1920-24
Able Seaman Royal Navy
Killed in action on H.M.S. Welshman in the Mediterranean
[italics] February [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 35
[page break]
[photograph]
ALBERT DICKINSON
1931-35
Flight Lieutenant (Pathfinder) Royal Air Force
Killed during operations over Germany
[italics] March [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 24
[page break]
[photograph]
HERBERT LEONARD DICKINSON
1931-35
Electrical Artificer Royal Navy
Drowned off Libya when H.M.S. [italics] Galatea [/italics] was torpedoed
[italics] December [/italics] 1941 [italics] Aged [/italics] 22
[page break]
[photograph]
JOHN WALTER DIXON
1920-23
Flight Sergeant Royal Air Force
Died in a prisoner of war camp in Japan
[italics] December [/italics] 1942 [italics] Aged [/italics] 36
[page break]
[photograph]
CHARLES DOUGLAS DOWSE
1933-37
Flying Officer Royal Air Force
Killed in operations over Germany
[italics] November [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 23
[page break]
[photograph]
LIONEL ANTHONY ELLINGWORTH
1930-34
Bombardier Royal Engineers
Died from illness contracted on active service
[italics] February [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 25
[page break]
[photograph]
FREDERICK CHARLES FORMAN
1931-36
Signalman Royal Navy
Missing after operations in convoy
[italics] July [/italics] 1942 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
FRANK FOUNTAINE
1931-37
Sergeant Royal Air Force
Killed in air operations over Germany
[italics] March [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 22
[page break]
[photograph]
ERROL JOHN GOULDING
1931-35
Guardsman Grenadier Guards
Killed in an air raid on Weston Super Mare
[italics] June [/italics] 1942 [italics] Aged [/italics] 23
[page break]
[photograph]
LEONARD RICHARD IRONMONGER
1936-40
Flight Sergeant Royal Air Force
Missing on operations over Germany
[italics] February [/italics] 1945 [italics] Aged [/italics] 20
[page break]
[photograph]
ROBERT WILLIAM JACKSON
1927-31
Major 1st Dorsetshire Regiment
Killed in action in Normandy
[italics] August [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 28
[page break]
[photograph]
STANLEY JEBSON
1929-36
Flying Officer Royal Air Force
Presumed killed when his plane fell in the sea
[italics] June [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 24
[page break]
[photograph]
KENNETH WILLAIM JELLIS
1935-39
Merchant Navy
Presumed drowned in the Bay of Biscay
[italics] September [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 20
[page break]
[photograph]
JOSEPH HOLLAND JOHNSON
1934-36
Flying Officer Royal Air Force
Killed on active service
[italics] September [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 22
[page break]
[photograph]
RONALD GEORGE KEEN
1926-30
Sergeant Pilot Royal Air Force
Killed in a flying accident in Egypt
[italics] August [/italics] 1941 [italics] Aged [/italics] 28
[page break]
[photograph]
JACK KELWAY
1919-23
Royal Observer Corps
Killed by enemy action near Lincoln
[italics] March [/italics] 1945 [italics] Aged [/italics] 38
[page break]
[photograph]
JACK LISTER
1927-31
L.A.C. Royal Air Force
Killed in a flying accident
[italics] September [/italics] 1941 [italics] Aged [/italics] 26
[page break]
[photograph]
CHARLES HUGH MARKHAM
1932-38
Sergeant Royal Air Force
Killed on active service in this country
[italics] September [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 23
[page break]
[photograph]
ERIC JOSEPH MILES
1932-37
Lieutenant Lincolnshire Regiment
Killed in action in Burma
[italics] April [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 24
[page break]
[photograph]
JOHN RICHARD NEAVE
1908-11
Acting British Resident, Perak State
Killed in action at Rengam in Johore
[italics] January [/italics] 1942 [italics] Aged [/italics] 49
[page break]
[photograph]
LEONARD OTTEY
1917-21
Flight Lieutenant Royal Air Force
Killed in an air raid on York
[italics] April [/italics] 1942 [italics] Aged [/italics] 35
[page break]
[photograph]
GEORGE EDWARD OWEN
1934-39
Flight Sergeant Royal Air Force
Killed on operational flight over enemy territory
[italics] November [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
THOMAS LESLIE PANTING
1925-30
Sergeant Pilot Royal Air Force
Drowned in the North Sea following a raid on enemy territory
[italics] October [/italics] 1941 [italics] Aged [/italics] 27
[page break]
[photograph]
JACK PATTISON
1935-39
Marine Royal Marines
Drowned when returning from the Normandy Beaches
[italics] July [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 20
[page break]
[photograph]
ALEX HENRY PEADON
1932-37
Sergeant Royal Air Force
Missing on a raid over enemy territory
[italics] August [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
JOSEPH RABY
1926-31
Private Lincolnshire Regiment
Killed in action in North Africa
[italics] March [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 27
[page break]
[photograph]
DAVID REED
1930-34
Student Teacher at the School 1934-36
Lieutenant Royal Engineers
Accidentally drowned off Bone, N. Africa
[italics] June [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 25
[page break]
[photograph]
GEORGE ERIC SCOTT
1929-35
Gunner Royal Artillery
Torpedoed in Mediterranean in Prisoner of War Convoy
[italics] November [/italics] 1942 [italics] Aged [/italics] 23
[page break]
[photograph]
ANDREW JAMES SISTRON
1932-37
Sergeant Royal Air Force
Killed in a flying accident
[italics] January [/italics] 1942 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
ARTHUR ROY SKELTON
1933-38
Sergeant Royal Air Force
Killed in flight over enemy territory
[italics] March [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 22
[page break]
[photograph]
ARTHUR RAYMOND SPENCER
1934-38
Sergeant Royal Air Force
Killed in raid over Munich
[italics] March [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
ERIC STANLEY SPILMAN
1927-33
Sub Lieutenant Fleet Air Arm
Died on active service
[italics] January [/italics] 1945 [italics] Aged [/italics] 28
[page break]
[photograph]
ROBERT DONALD STOKES
1916-18
Major 4th Lincolnshire Regiment
Killed in action in Normandy
[italics] August [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 39
[page break]
[photograph]
BENJAMIN CLAYTON SWALLOW
1932-37
Sergeant 21st Parachute Company
Died at Apeldoorn from wounds received at Arnhem
[italics] December [/italics] 1944 [italics] Aged [/italics] 23
[page break]
[photograph]
HERBERT FLETCHER TAIT
1931-36
Coder Royal Navy
Drowned when H.M.S. [italics] Dunelin [/italics] was torpedoed
[italics] November [/italics] 1941 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
GEOFFREY BAVIN TAYLOR
1923-26
Private Royal Army Ordnance Corps
Missing on the sinking of the [italics] Lancastria [/italics]
[italics] June [/italics] 1940 [italics] Aged [/italics] 29
[page break]
[photograph]
ARTHUR JOHN TEASDEL
1921-28
Pilot Officer Royal Air Force
Missing on operations over Germany
[italics] February [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 33
[page break]
[photograph]
BERNARD WILLIAM TODD
1926-31
Sapper Royal Engineers
Died of wounds in Hong Kong
[italics] December [/italics] 1941 [italics] Aged [/italics] 26
[page break]
[photograph]
ROLAND HENRY TURNELL
1926-31
Corporal 6th Seaforth Highlanders
Killed on the beaches of Sicily
[italics] July [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 28
[page break]
[photograph]
EDWARD GEORGE UFTON, D.F.M.
1930-35
Sergeant Royal Air Force
Missing on a rescue flight over North Sea
[italics] April [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 24
[page break]
[photograph]
GEOFFREY WARD
1931-36
Gunner Royal Artillery
Killed on convoy duty in Syria
[italics] June [/italics] 1941 [italics] Aged [/italics] 22
[page break]
[photograph]
ROBERT LEE WELLINGTON
1933-39
Flying Officer Royal Air Force
Missing on an operational flight over enemy territory
[italics] May [/italics] 1943 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
NORMAN MAXWELL WESCOMBE
1931-35
Engine Room Artificer Royal Navy
Presumed drowned at the battle of Crete
[italics] May [/italics] 1941 [italics] Aged [/italics] 21
[page break]
[photograph]
DONALD WEST
1934-40
Sub Lieutenant Fleet Air Arm
Killed when his plane fell into the sea
[italics] May [/italics] 1945 [italics] Aged [/italics] 22
[page break]
[photograph]
ROBERT ARTHUR WHEELER
1932-37
Flying Officer Royal Air Force
Killed in an aircraft accident in Germany
[italics] December [/italics] 1945 [italics] Aged [/italics] 24
[page break]
[photograph]
HARRY WILSON
1929-37
Pilot Officer Royal Air Force
Killed in a flying accident in England
[italics] April [/italics] 1941 [italics] Aged [/italics] 22
[page break]
[photograph]
JOHN WINN
1928-32
Sergeant Royal Air Force
Killed in action in the Middle East
[italics] December [/italics] 1939 [italics] Aged [/italics] 23
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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Book of Remembrance
The City School Lincoln
Description
An account of the resource
A booklet with a listing of former pupils that died in the Second World War. It includes a photograph of the deceased and a brief description.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
The City School
Format
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81 page printed booklet
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MPeadonAH1578531-160504-01
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
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Navy
British Army
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Lincoln
France--Normandy
Italy
Belgium--Brussels
France--Caen
Egypt--Cairo
Papua New Guinea
England--London
Italy--Anzio
Germany--Berlin
India
Trinidad and Tobago
Norway
Japan
Libya
Germany
England--Weston-super-Mare
Burma
Malaysia--Johor
England--York
Germany--Munich
Netherlands--Arnhem
China--Hong Kong
Italy--Sicily
Syria
Greece--Crete
India--Kolkata
France
Egypt
Belgium
China
Greece
Malaysia
Netherlands
England--Somerset
England--Lincolnshire
England--Yorkshire
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Steve Baldwin
aircrew
crash
killed in action
memorial
missing in action
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1791/32503/BWierTWierTv1.2.pdf
5f188c9ba5ddfdcf0a5d99baf50ed940
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
Wier, Tadeusz
T Wier
Tadeusz Wierzbowski
T Wierzbowski
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-01-22
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
Wier, T
Description
An account of the resource
24 items. The collection concerns Tadeusz Wier (b.1920) and contains his log books, memoirs, photographs and documents. He flew operations as a pilot with 300 Squadron.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Michael Wier-Wierzbowski and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Requires
A related resource that is required by the described resource to support its function, delivery, or coherence.
Tadeusz Wierzbowski grew up on a farm near Zgierz, Poland. He learned to fly at the training school at Deblin and escaped from the Nazi and Russian invasions in 1939. He travelled through Romania to the Black Sea, and was in France when the Nazis invaded. He eventually arrived in Liverpool on the Andura Star in June 1940.
He flew as an instructor, training others to fly for three years, before he was posted into combat with 300 Squadron. He flew 25 operations as a Lancaster pilot from RAF Faldingworth including bombing Hitler’s Eagle’s nest at Berchtesgaden.
Tadeusz was a test pilot after the war and shortened his name to Wier to make it easier for air traffic control officers. Over his career, he flew over 40 different aircraft types from Polish RWD 8 trainers to Vampire jets.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
FLASHBACKS – 0 to 4
SQN. LDR. T. WIER, A.F.C., R.A.F. (Retd.)
[page break]
[underlined] 0 FLASHBACKS 0 [/underlined]
Most of my family are of the opinion that I ought to write something about my childhood. I guess they are right because I came and eventually settled in this country over half a century ago and with the exception of my wife and my son, Michael, no other member of my immediate family have seen or heard much about the part of Poland where I come from.
I must confess that up till now I did not think that the times of my youth were particularly interesting but, having lived all these years I have come to the conclusion that one should leave something in black and white for the children and succeeding generations.
I can even cite a personal example why one should do so. I have never met or known my grandparents because I was born quite a few years after their death. Therefore, the only good and reliable source of information about them would have been my own parents but, due to the way my life has been fashioned by world events, I could not talk to them about it, simply, because I was not able to see them in my later years. I saw the family for the last time during the Christmas holidays in 1938 when I was already in military uniform and spending the few days of my leave at home between recruit training with the infantry and posting to the Officers' Flying Training School in Deblin, Poland.
My father died less than a year later and I was not able to visit my mother after the war because the communist regime would not allow Polish citizens any social contacts with the people living in the Western countries. Actually, I received a letter from by brother about my mother's death six months after her demise while I was serving in Singapore. She died on the 1st of May, 1960, age 77 years. The next person to die in my family was my eldest brother, Wacek, and I got the news of that event again half way round the world while I was serving in Belize, British Honduras, in the early seventies.
It is obvious that I should start writing my story from as far back as it is possible. And, as all the beginnings come from our ancestors, then it must be in order to mention them at this stage.
Every time when I go to Poland, I set aside a few hours to visit the Parish Cemetery in ZGIERZ where a lot of my dead relations are now buried. It is not in any way a depressing experience because I usually find people there tending the graves, bringing flowers, clearing the footpaths or just simply walking about. There are permanent flower stalls outside the cemetery gates and they are open every day of the year. I still remember All Saints' Day celebrated on the 1st of November each year when there is a real flood of people who turn out in the evening to light the candles on the graves of their family departed. Some persons travel long distances, even scores of miles, to visit on that day their parents or other relatives graves
[page break]
2
and also to meet old colleagues and friends. Most of the graves will have dozens of candles flickering in the wind, others a few and there may be the odd one unattended. Very likely it will have a candle lit by a neighbour. The glow of thousands of candles is visible a long way off even on a darkest night, no matter what the weather. It is a real social occasion and one not to be missed lightly.
Last year, when I went to the cemetery, I made a note of the inscriptions on the gravestones of my grandparents and my parents.
Here are the names and dates I have noted: -
My mothers' parents: -
WAWRZYNIEC i MALGOZATA (z PABIANCZYKOW) WIERZBOWSCY
ZYL LAT 39, ZM. 4.10.1904 (Born 1582)
ZYLA LAT 67, ZM. 28.11.1917 (Born 1850)
My fathers' parents:-
BRONISLAWA i MARCEL WIERZBOWSCY
ZYLA 44 LAT, ZM. 3.1.1904 (Born 1860)
ZYL 56 LAT, ZM. 20.1.1906 (Born 1850)
My mother: -
ELEONARA WIERZBOWSKA
UR. 22.11.1882, ZM. 1.5.1960 (Lived 77 years)
My father: -
JOZEF WIERZBOWSKI
UR. 19.3.1883, ZM. 1.10.1939 (Lived 56 years)
Some explanatory notes: -
ZYL, ZYLA means Lived
LAT means Years
ZM. (Zmarl, a) means Died
UR. (Urodzony, a) means Born
WIERZBOWSCY is a collective name of the family.
It seems that in the nineteenth century Poland people did not live too long – old age being an exception rather than the rule.
As I said before, I never saw my grandparents and now I very much regret that I did not talk closely to my parents about the life of our ancestors. Were my mother and father
[page break]
3
alive today, I would have hundreds of questions to ask them but, unfortunately, it is too late and I have only odd bits of information which remained in my memory.
Somehow, I don’t think there was an opportune time, urge or sufficient will to delve deeply into my parents’ past. Neither do I know if the lives of my grandparents were particularly happy or joyous. None of them lived in a free country because Poland was then partitioned amongst our age-old enemies of Russia, Germany and Austria. It is certain that they were not benevolent as masters.
By a curious coincidence my mother’s parents had the same surname as my father. I queried that fact once or twice with my mother but she assured me that there was no blood relationship between her and my father. Apparently, her family came from a small settlement 25-30 miles to the west of KROGULEC which was the name of the village where we lived. I suppose, the chances are that some Wierzbowski strayed in one direction or another long, long ago and started a new branch of the family. However, my maternal grandparents must have lived not too far away because they are buried in our cemetery.
I only vaguely remember being told that my father’s parents lived in a neighbouring village and raised altogether twelve children, my father being the eldest of the five brothers. My mother had two brothers and two sisters, making five children in all on that side of the family. When I went back to Poland for the first time after my retirement in 1976, my brother, Ryszard, and I sat down and made a list of our first cousins. There were over sixty of them and some were already dead. One was killed as a soldier during the Polish campaign and another was murdered by the Gestapo during the occupation.
I think that my paternal grandfather was a small farmer because I remember that the parts of the land which were inherited by my father and belonged to our farm were really in the next village where the grandparents lived.
There is not much more that I can write about my grandparents so I will now say something about my parents, my brothers and my only sister.
My mother was married twice, my father being her second husband. Her first husband’s name was KOSTECKI so that my two elder brothers and the sister had that surname. Her name was GENOWEFA, I think she was born in 1900 or 01 which made her the eldest of the children. Unfortunately, she died in 1936 with lung disease – her trade was tailoring. Next was my brother WACLAW who served as an officer in the Polish Army (Armoured Brigade) and he was followed by HENRYK who trained at an Agricultural College and became a farmer. I believe their father died just before the First World War at a fairly young age.
I was born on the 2nd of January 1920 as the first of three brothers, the other being RYSZARD born in February 1921 and ZENON born January 1927. Ryszard became a chemical
[page break]
4
engineer and Zenek studied Agriculture and eventually took over our farm. There is only Ryszard left now of all of my family and we are in a kind of a race for the second place with the undertaker. I think our chances are fairly even.
Something about my father. As far as I can figure out, our part of Poland was under Russian occupation because my father was called up or conscripted into the Russian army. I still have a photograph of him in a Russian army uniform which was taken somewhere in Moscow. (There is an inscription on it to that effect). He was eventually taken prisoner by the Germans during the First World War and spent sometime in a Prisoners of War camp in Germany. I want to mention one legacy of those times which remained with him for the rest of his life – he had a somewhat choleric temperament and when he got mad he could swear fluently in three languages – Russian, German and Polish!
He returned home after the war and married my mother who was then a widow. I suppose one of the factors which helped in the marriage was the fact that my father's land was adjoining my mother's. The plots were divided only by the village road so it made economic sense to combine the two properties together. As a matter of fact, this made our farm one of the largest in the neighbourhood.
I was really born in a thatched cottage. It was very ancient, rather small and built on my mother's part of the property. A few years after my birth my parents must have decided that a larger dwelling was necessary. A new house was built of bricks and roofed over with tiles simply on the outside of the old cottage so that we had somewhere to live while the building was going up and the new roof covered the lot. I was then 4 to 5 years old.
One incident from that period of time remained in my memory and it concerns the actual new building. Well, the external walls were built of red-fired bricks but, I think, that in order to save expense, the chimney which was located in the centre of the house, was built of dried but unfired clay bricks. It was an important structure in the house because it contained near its base a kind of bakery for making our bread every week. I guess it was an accepted practice to use unfired bricks in that situation because, when the fire was lit in the bakery stove, it produced a lot of heat and would, obviously, further dry and harden the bricks. The chimney was partly built and then one night it came crashing down. There must have been some damage but, fortunately, no one was hurt. Next morning the builders inspected the havoc and looked for the cause of the disaster and eventually said that it must have been one of our dogs which peed against the corner of the chimney and thus weakened the structure. Some explanation! In point of fact I now think (with hindsight!) that the mortar they used which was lime and sand only might have been too wet and thus soaked the unfired bricks so they eventually gave way. Anyway, I believe they stuck to their story but had to rebuild the chimney where it stayed until recent years.
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One of the earliest memories which I have is that of our orchard. This happened while we still lived in the cottage and when I was very young. I was sick with measles and on top of that I caught a cold or some other infection, became very seriously ill and remained in bed for good few weeks. I remember when I was eventually allowed outside I saw the orchard in full bloom. We had a lot of fruit trees; - apples, pears, plum and cherry trees, damsons and also lots of fruiting shrubs. The time must have been in May or so because all the trees were covered in blossom. They looked beautiful to me and after being cooped up inside all those weeks, seeing the sun and the blue sky, and feeling the warm spring air, was as good as heaven to me, or at least a kind of paradise. I have never forgotten the experience.
I was my father's oldest child and he must have been quite fond of me because I was often with him and sometimes he led me around the farm by the hand. Life slows down in winter on the farm, the days get shorter so on most evenings my father would sit me on his knee and read aloud books to me. They were mostly fairy tales and, of course, I was fascinated by the wonderful stories. When my father read to me he also used a pointer showing me the words and letters as he pronounced them. Somehow or other I very quickly learned to read myself and from then on I was always in love with the written words and the treasures and wisdom to be found in books. Later on, when I was at school, I belonged and used three different libraries so that I would always have an unread book at hand. To illustrate my commitment to reading I will quote my uncle who seeing me for the first time during my return visit to Poland in 1976 said:- “Last time I saw you before the war you were reading a book and now almost forty years later on you still have a book in front of you.” Another uncle used to say to his children:- “Why aren't you like Tadek and read books?!” Those cousins reminded me of that many years later. I must have been a real pain in the behind to them.
The school starting age in Poland is seven years, although now they have a kind of preparatory classes from the age of six. My father knew the local village Schoolmaster fairly well and he arranged for me to start school before I was even six years old. It was a very small school, one classroom, one teacher and the kids up to the age of twelve or fourteen. I was probably a little shrimp of a lad amongst the other village boys and girls but I could read, while my contemporaries were beginning to learn the alphabet. Life was real easy for me then.
I don't really remember too much about that school except that I busted my collar-bone during one playtime period and was off school for two or three weeks. It was a peculiar kind of a game called “Snake” where about a dozen boys and girls would join hands in a line, usually according to size and then run. The 'heavy' end of the Snake would turn and the whole line would act like a whip. I was the sucker at the end of the line and went flying as if I were shot out of a catapult. Result, damaged and painful arm.
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I left the village school at the age of ten to attend a large school in town. From there to the Gimnasium still in Zgierz where I matriculated in 1938.
A few lines of information about our farm. It was situated 2 1/2 miles or so west of Zgierz which was our nearest town. I think we had over 25 acres of land and were mostly self-sufficient in food. 2 or 3 horses to work on the farm. 6 to 8 cows, some pigs, chickens, geese and turkeys. The farm produce included mainly rye grain, oats, barley, potatoes and plenty of fruit in the season. We had to go occasionally to town to get such things as sugar, coffee, tea and again fish which was usually salted or fresh herrings.
While I was at home, that is to say between the wars, we always had a hired man and woman living in; the woman helping mother in the house (laundry, baking) and working outside on jobs like milking cows and feeding poultry and pigs. The man would work mainly in the fields with my father. Of course, at harvest time everybody was on the go including us when we were off school. When the cherries were in season and there was no panic about work I would often hide in a tree with a book and stuff myself with fresh fruit. Now and again mother would chase us around to pick the cherries or plums as they could be sold in town without any trouble. They were sure great times!
I do not wish to create the impression that we were particularly well-off. Far from it! There was never too much money about and regular taxes to pay. It was the time of the Great Depression and there certainly weren't any farm subsidies to collect. It was more or less a hand to mouth existence and people would work for next to nothing, very often for their keep and a small reward. For instance, I never heard of the idea of pocket money for kids until I came to this country. I guess it would be very difficult to starve on a farm but we certainly never had any luxuries. Nevertheless, it was a healthy kind of life and the sun always seemed to be shining. Youth is such a wonderful time but one only learns to appreciate it in later years!
January 1992 T. Wier
N.B. One of my Aunts' first name was NEPOMUCENA. How about that?!
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[underlined] FLASHBACKS 1 [/underlined]
I still remember our first bombing raid. Not necessarily because it was the first but because it did not go exactly according to plan.
I was posted with the crew just after Christmas 1944 to No 300 Bomber Squadron at Faldingworth, near Lincoln. It was snowing heavily at the time - fortunately the journey was not too long, about 30 miles from Blyton, near Gainsborough, where we had finished our training on four-engined Halifaxes and Lancasters.
I think I ought to write something about my experiences in England up to that time because it is likely that they are different from those of my colleagues.
I started flying in England in May 1941 about 10 months after the collapse of France. I had one week on aircraft type Magister at Hucknall, near Nottingham and after that to Montrose in Scotland (NO 8 SFTS) for training on Masters and Hurricanes. From September until the end of that year I was in the south of England flying Henleys and Lysanders at Weston Zoyland [sic], Somerset. January and February 1942 Flying Instructors Course at Church Lawford, near Rugby and then a posting to No 25 (P) EFTS at Hucknall, Nottingham for duties as a Pilot Instructor. I must have been one of the youngest instructors there – a new, 22 year old Pilot Officer serving in “C” Flight with Capt. Tanski as Flight Commander.
The next two years felt like a constant roundabout. Each instructor had, normally four pupils every eight weeks and the first ten hours flying (average) with a pupil is mostly all talk in the air and often lots of explanations on the ground. So much talk that often one’s throat would get sore. And the pupil listened and learned to fly, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. What amazes me now is the fact that they learned so much in such a short time – first solo, spinning, aerobatics, instrument flying, cross-country flights and even night flying. I remember one poor soul made 23 approaches before finally landing without mishap. I must admit that landing was difficult that particular night because the wind was from the wrong direction. The Flight Commander and the instructors heaved a sigh of relief – somebody wanted to bring anti-aircraft artillery!
At Hucknall there was also another problem.
Practically each and every one of the instructors wanted to join an operational Squadron. Of course, the result was that there was a regulated list of such volunteers and one had to wait for one’s turn to be released from flying instructor’s duties. I must have been way down the list because my turn did not come until June 1944. Moreover, I only got in because someone ahead of me declined this privilege.
I received an allocation to a bomber Squadron and a posting to Finningley, near Doncaster for training on twin-engined Wellingtons. I was very pleased that my instructor would be Janek Dziedzic and Flight Commander Jozek Nowak – both of them my colleagues from the Flying School, Deblin, in Poland.
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At Finningley, apart from flying training the aircrew personnel were formed into individual aircraft crews, that is to say the crew would consist of pilot, navigator, bomb-aimer, radio-operator and two gunners. The flight-engineer would join the crew later for training on four-engined aircraft.
I was very lucky with my crew. They approached me as a gathered and complete group – all good lads – I had a lot of flying hours under my belt, maybe that helped. They were all N.C.O.s, younger than I was with the exception of the bomb-aimer a year or so older. The youngest was the rear-gunner, only nineteen!
Flight Sergeant Hieronim Stawicki, our Flight Engineer, became eventually “The Father” of the crew. I think he was 27 years old at the time and started flying with us in November 1944.
I return now to our arrival at Faldingworth. The end of December, winter, frost. There were not too many people as the older crews were finishing their tours of duty and some of the others simply were not returning from the raids. In spite of the fact that the Germans were retreating on all fronts, the Squadron was still losing crews. One aircraft lost meant seven aircrew, leaving a large hole in the Unit. Even during the last raid of the war on the 25th of April 1945 while bombing Berchtesgaden, one of Squadron aircraft was so badly damaged that the pilot was forced to crash-land in France. Luckily, the whole crew escaped without too many injuries. The bomb-aimer in that crew was my school-friend, Flying Officer, Roman Piaskowski.
A few weeks after our arrival, reporting to all our Commanders and some training flights we found ourselves on the 2nd of February 1945 at the briefing with all other aircrews for our first raid on Germany. Target – WIESBADEN. A night flight, but not too bad because most of the route was over France. The flight duration was about six hours.
As far as I remember the weather was fairly good. From time to time we could see the other aircraft in the stream. The only problem which we discovered on route to the target was strong head wind, much stronger than forecast – the navigator was complaining that we should be late over the target. I was not sure what to do about it – we increased the speed slightly, but this was not necessary as we discovered after our return to base. The correct procedure was to continue as per flight plan following the principle that the same wind was affecting all the other aircraft. I guess we must have been in good time over Wiesbaden.
There was quite a bit of anti-aircraft fire on the approach and over the target. Not much time to worry about it because one has to fly accurately following bomb-aimer's instructions. After a while the aircraft jumps up, “Bombs gone!”, bomb doors close and the aircraft shoots forward without the load.
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14,000 pounds went down – a great relief for the aeroplane and all crew members.
The return flight is always easier. The aircraft is very light and after crossing of the Channel everyone feels fairly safe. We were returning to Faldingworth from the south. When the navigator said that we were getting near the airfield I noticed the lights and received clearance to join the circuit and to land over the R/T. Normal circuit, approach and landing without much trouble.
Then our problems began. After clearing the runway and taxying [sic] to dispersal we stopped the engines and started to leave the aircraft. To my surprise we had landed at FISKERTON, an airfield few miles south of Faldingworth which also had Lancasters probably taking part in the same raid.
The worst trouble was that we were not allowed to take off again and return to Faldingworth because we had one or two hung-up bombs in the bomb bay which we were unable to jettison earlier. And naturally, the Armament Officer in charge of such operations decided that it would be more sensible to tackle a job like that in daylight rather than in the middle of the night. We, of course, had to sit and wait there, returning eventually to Faldingworth eight or nine hours later.
What had happened? Well, there were quite a number of Bomber Command airfields in Lincolnshire (I can list 10 of them within 12-15 mile radius of Faldingworth) and they were very much alike. That is to say, their lighting was similar, the runways more or less in the same direction and of nearly standard length. One thing which distinguished one airfield from another were the recognition letters placed in, what was called “The Outer Circle” of airfield lights. Nearly always they consisted of two letters – the first and the last letter of the airfield's name. Thus Faldingworth had FH and Fiskerton FN. I did see the letters when I was doing the circuit, but unfortunately, I did not know or realize that there was an airfield with similar letters so close to ours. As a matter of fact, I thought that the installation of the lights was slightly damaged and the centre bar of the letter H had dropped at one end and was simply leaning over. I fully intended to report the matter on the ground after landing.
This is my explanation of the incident. It ended without mishap, but now I realize that we really avoided trouble. A simple oversight on my part, but talking to our own air Traffic Control and landing at another airfield was neither a sensible nor a safe occupation.
I stopped flying as a pilot in the Royal Air Force towards the end of 1959. Sometime later I read the following short article (I do not know the author and I decided that it would be appropriate to place it on the last unused page of my Pilot's Flying Log Book:-
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[underlined] “I WANT TO BE A PILOT” [/underlined]
[underlined] by a 10- year old Schoolboy [/underlined]
“....I want to be a pilot when I grow up ….because it's a fun job and easy to do. That's why there are so many pilots flying today. Pilots don't need much school, they just have to learn to read numbers so they can read instruments. I guess they should be able to read road maps so they won't get lost. Pilots should be brave so they won't be scared if it's foggy and they can't see, or if a wing or motor falls off, they would stay calm so they will know what to do. Pilots have to have good eyes to see through clouds and they can't be afraid of lightning or thunder because they are closer to them than we are. The salary pilots make is another thing I like. They have more money than they can spend. This is because most people think plane flying is dangerous except pilots don't because they know how easy it is. There isn't much I don't like except girls like pilots and all the stewardesses want to marry pilots so they always have to chase them away so they don't bother them. I hope I don't get air sick because I get car sick and if I get air sick I couldn't be a pilot and then I would have to go to work....”
I guess this is the right way to finish this part of my recollections.
June 1991
T. Wier
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[underlined] FLASHBACKS 2 [/underlined]
There must be lots of reasons which influence and help young people in the choice of their career. I was already interested in flying in Primary School – I read what I could find about the subject, made flying models of gliders and aeroplanes and when I was in Gimnasium (Grammar School) I attended several lectures given by a glider instructor. At fifteen or sixteen I received a brochure describing conditions of Service in the Polish Air Force and in the Officers Flying Training School situated at that time in Deblin forty or fifty miles south of Warsaw. There were a number of photographs in the book and the one that impressed me a lot was a photograph of a pilot with the rank of a colonel in the Polish Air Force. He looked very smart at at 36 was about to retire. Fantastic! Of course the profession was somewhat risky and there was always a possibility of a fatal accident but the pilot then had a very impressive funeral and a propeller over his grave!
One of the books which I read was by Captain Janusz Meissner and the title of it was “School of Young Eagles”. Beautifully written and the contents were really inspiring – kind of an answer to the dreams of all would-be young Flyers. As it happened we met Captain Meissner later while we were interned in Romania and where he was our Unit Commander for a while. A very imposing and kind officer – he looked after us like a father. Very much like “Captain Grey” - the character in the book I mentioned.
While considering my future career I received some advice from my older colleague. Takek Walczak matriculated from the same school in ZGIERZ one year ahead of me and joined the Polish Air Force in 1937. He was actually then at the Flying School and I met him while he was on leave all resplendent n his uniform and the “walking out” dagger at his side. My original intention was to apply for admission to the Technical Officers School but he soon convinced me that life as a “plumber” would be very dull and that of a pilot much more interesting.
I must now admit that he was absolutely right. I can not now imagine the 22 years of my life from 1938 to 1960 in a profession other than as a military pilot. I feel certain that I have lived during the “golden age” of aviation. When I started flying the aeroplanes were “string, wires and canvas” (at least the first ones I trained on were!) and by 1948 I was flying the early jet aircraft. In 1957 the SPUTNIK was circling the globe and in 1969 NEIL ARMSTRONG walked on the surface of the moon. What progress!
Soon after my matriculation in 1938 I received a notification to attend a course on gliders in Ustianowa, South-East Poland. Two weeks earned my category “B” on glider type “Wrona”. Week or two later another course in Ustianowa but this time for selection to the Officers Flying Training School. Gliders “Czajka” and “Salamander” ending with the award of category “C”.
2
After all these valiant efforts the authorities still managed to get hold of me and sent me to a Labour camp in Southern Poland. The work involved building a road and was kind of obligatory for all students who have completed secondary education. I think the attachment was for a month or so. However, the Camp Commandant realized that I have done my stint of service for the Government and sent me home after three or four days. Just in time for the harvest! Father was very pleased – great help on the farm.
End of September 1938 found me in a khaki uniform with a very short haircut in the barracks of 31st Infantry Brigade in Lodz for my course of Recruit Training. Lots of drill, marching, weapon training, instructions in field tactics, rifle and machine-gun range firing and, thank God, after Christmas posting to Flying School in Deblin. Much, much better there! Fitted uniforms, modern barracks, mattresses instead of straw pallets. (Easy to remake the bed after duty N.C.O.s' failed inspection). About an hour of drill a day and an awful lot of lectures. I think that we had about seven hours – one had to have a brain like a sponge to assimilate it all – somehow a lot stayed in. We started lectures about six or seven in the morning then one break and a small snack at eleven. Lunch was well after two in the afternoon. And one hour of drill after that!
Spring 1939. The weather was kind because I remember that we finished initial flying training on aircraft RWD 8 fairly quickly. We used a small grass satellite airfield called Zajezierze on the west side of the river Vistula. I ought to add that the main airfield at Deblin, the other satellite airfields and the nearby town Irena were all on the right, east bank of the river.
Before the first solo we had a dual flight and carried out spinning on aircraft type PWS 26 (our initial RWD 8 was non-aerobatic and not stressed for practice of spinning) and after that a free fall parachute jump out of a large three-engined Fokker aircraft. There were six of us in each group to carry out the jump and I was the first to be pushed out of the aeroplane. I do not know if I was the lightest or the heaviest in the group but I fell down fairly fast. 3 seconds later I pulled the ripcord and the parachute opened without any trouble. One had to hang on to the handle of the ripcord because it’s loss meant a small fine and every penny of our meagre pay soon got used up. What actually frightened me most was the fact that I seemed to be heading straight for a huge metal wind indicator which was situated in the corner of the airfield not too far from the Officers’ Mess. However, my Guardian Angel looked after me and I managed to land several yards away from this obstruction. There would not be much fun having an argument with such a heap of iron and one could certainly do oneself an awful lot of painful injury by landing on it.
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I do not remember now the exact date but early in June we found ourselves at another satellite airfield called Borowina. I still had my original instructor on the next type of aircraft which was a biplane PWS 26. I think now that my instructor was near enough a saint – he never got angry and had infinite patience. Only once, I remember, he told me after an hour’s instrument flying under the hood that he could not have lasted much longer. I don’t know if it was my flying or some other reason that caused the remark.
I recollect a couple of incidents from that part of my flying career. I was very impressed with the speed with which our Technical Branch dealt with a problem which was discovered in our aircraft following a near-fatal accident. It happened that one of our lads, Stasiek Litak, was carrying out an exercise in spinning. This required starting the spin, two or three turns and then recovery. Fairly simple exercise – one needed some height, a clear bit of sky, speed reduced to minimum and then the stick fully back, rudder pedal hard over to one side and the machine goes round. for the recovery exactly opposite action of the flying controls, that is to say, the stick fully forward and the rudder pedal hard over to the other side. I must add that Stasiek Litak was a big chap and wore very large size boots. (This has no connection with the incident but he was a brilliant player on the accordion). What I heard eventually was that Stasiek started the spin OK but while doing so his foot slipped of [sic] the rudder and got jammed by the side of the fuselage and the bar itself. In spite of great efforts he was unable to pull his foot out and apply the opposite rudder. And so the aeroplane continued spinning although at a slower rate all the way down. I believe Stasiek was injured but, fortunately, still able to explain what had happened.
Few days later all the PWS 26 aircraft were modified – special wooden guards were fitted to prevent the foot getting jammed. Very simple and effective.
We had a very comprehensive program of flying exercises to carry out. Towards the end of the course one of them involved live air to ground firing – fixed machine gun firing through the propeller into a target on the ground. The target was a large rectangle of cleared ground and covered with smoothed-out sand so that every bullet hitting it would show a trace. We had a prescribed number of rounds loaded for each pilot to fire and it was thus fairly simple to count the hits and figure out who was a good shot.
As the target was flat on the ground, one had to dive and aim the aircraft. Furthermore, the nearer the vertical the dive and closer to the ground, the better the score. Of course, we were limited to the number of passes we could make on the target so one had to judge everything nicely – there wasn’t much time to correct any mistakes.
I guess, I must have got a pass-mark for my live firing – I certainly do not remember my score. But I remember what happened to another pilot doing the same exercise.
4
Parallel with our course we had eight or ten officers from the Bulgarian Air Force trained by Polish instructors. They were not billeted with us and we saw them only from time to time. Their senior officer was a Bulgarian captain, very strict, keen and correct. He was always trying to get top marks in every activity, no doubt to set a good example to his other officers.
Unfortunately, as I said before, one did not have much time to correct mistakes during the air firing exercise. It was necessary to stop the firing and pull out of the dive in good time to avoid crashing into the ground. Few seconds too long and the pilot was in trouble which is exactly what happened to our Captain. He must have pulled out very hard but did not quite make it and left some bits of his aeroplane on the surrounding bushes and trees. Somehow he got away without serious injury himself.
September 1939 and the German invasion of Poland. The bombing of Deblin and our own airfield was not very pleasant. Fortunately, we were a mile or so away from the airfield and nobody was injured in our Section. The bombing took place about lunchtime on the 2nd of September and that afternoon we cleared out of our barracks and continued the march for most of the night in the direction of Lublin, which was South-East of our airfield. We stopped for a couple of days near a large farming estate and from there I was detailed for my last flight in Poland. I do not know how it happened but I think that my instructor must have been confident of my flying ability because I was instructed to fly one of our training aircraft, PWS 26, in formation with my instructor in the direction of Lwow in South-East Poland. These aircraft were already dispersed from our home airfield so the take off and landing were to be on temporary landing grounds. My instructor flew ahead and I had to follow him. We were flying quite low and I simply kept close so as not to lose his aircraft – he was navigating for both of us. My attention must have wandered off temporarily because I got a real fright when a tall chimney of some brickworks or a factory suddenly appeared ahead of me. Quick yank on the stick and full throttle got me out of that predicament. I landed, eventually, behind my instructor on a field still covered with short stubble from the recent harvest. After landing, the aeroplane was pushed tail first into a nearby wood, few branches across the front completed the camouflage. I guess, the Russians found the aircraft there when they marched in, we could not fly them any further because of lack of fuel.
About 11 o'clock on Sunday, 17th of September our Commanders received a message that the Russians have invaded Poland from the East. Soon after came the order to evacuate the Unit in the direction of Rumanian border and next day we found ourselves in that country – disarmed and in a foreign land.
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It must have happened during our journey to the southern region of Rumania. Somewhere and somehow I contracted dysentery, most likely eating contaminated fruit. I spent about a week in a hospital in Tulcea and slowly recovered my health. My youth and skilled medical care helped to overcome a very unpleasant illness.
Unusual coincidence. My father, in Poland, only 56 years old at the time, also contracted this disease about the same time as I did. He died because of it on the 4th of October 1939. I received the information about his death and the cause of It well after the war ended. Life for a life?
The following recollection which touched me very deeply will always remain in my memory. It happened on the first Sunday of our internment in Rumania. A large camp of tents, Holy Mass in the open and at the end a hymn: -
O God, Who for centuries Have allowed Poland
The splendour of might and glory and Who
Protected her with the shield of Your care
From the misfortunes which had threatened.
We carry this prayer before Your altars
Bless our free Motherland, O Lord.
We sang:-
Return to us our Motherland, O Lord.
I was then nineteen....
Tadek Wier
August 1991
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[underlined] FLASHBACKS 3 [/underlined]
Rumania. Soon after my return from the hospital (first days of October, 1939) we were moved from the tented camp in Tulcea to a village in Dobrudja, somewhere near Bazargic in South-East Rumania. Bolek Uszpolewicz and I were billeted with a village family which consisted of the old farmer and wife, his married son and wife, and a younger daughter of the old farmer, about twenty years of age. Bolek was six years older than I and his family lived in Lithuania.
I must add that I am relying entirely on my memory when writing these recollections and sometimes I am not quite certain of the dates. The reason for this is that during our internment in Rumania everybody was trying to escape to the West, that is to say to France or England which were still at war, and so to continue fighting the Germans. The right way to go about it was to get rid of everything which would connect a person with the fact that he was in the Polish Forces, then acquire a civilian suit and proceed to a designated collection point given to us just before the escape. Therefore, all the photographs, documents and papers had to be destroyed or thrown away. As a result, I do not have any positive records from that period of time. I am not quite certain now that such a drastic clear-out was absolutely necessary, but when one is young and without experience of tricky matters, it is best to listen to the advice of people who are older and have the knowledge of what to do in unusual circumstances.
Our old farmer left the house practically every day to work in the fields and always took with him a full jug of wine. The jug was a fair size, three pints or so and when he returned in the evening he was in high good humour. His son invited us one day to have a look at their cellar where the wine was kept – huge barrel, about five feet in diameter – must have lasted a whole year until next grape harvest.
I am ashamed to say that I do not remember our host's name or even their religion. Rut religious they were. Each Sunday the young woman in the house would trot off to church and later join the group of young people gathered in the village square. There was a small band of musicians and men and women would dance. The dances had a definite oriental flavour – very likely the influence of Bulgaria and Turkey.
A small happening which I recollect with pleasure. Our food was no great shakes and there wasn't too much of it. The winter was approaching fast, November, snow, frost and often howling wind – a hungry person feels such discomforts quite a lot. Bolek and I decided that it would be nice to have a real feast for once. We managed to save some money and then bought a goose from a neighbour's wife. This lady, very kindly has agreed to cook or roast the goose for us. The cooked bird was truly delicious – stuffed with sauerkraut and paprika. These two ingredients seemed to a perfect flavouring for the goose meat, I would recommend this method of preparing it to any cook or chef.
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Sometime at the beginning of December we got our, sort of, civilian outfits, some extra money for the journey and one early morning caught a train which eventually took us to Balcic on the coast of the Black Sea and very close to the Bulgarian frontier. We waited there a couple of weeks or so for the boat and for our travel documents. These, of course, were forged and our senior officers had a lot of work inventing new names for all of us. I don't think they had much trouble finding one for me – Tadeusz Eugeniusz Wierzbowski disappeared and Maciej Gruszka showed up in his place. I guess I ought to add that there is a common Polish proverb which says that the good times will come when willow trees will start growing pears. And wierzba means willow in Polish – gruszka is a pear!
A few days before Christmas a boat called “Patris” showed up in the harbour. There must have been several hundreds of us and all eager to get away. We eventually found out that our destination was Beirut in, as it was then Syria. The boat must have been fairly small and rather unstable because when we were passing one of the islands and most of the passengers on top moved to one side to get a better view, the boat listed quite a few degrees towards the island.
We landed in Beirut two or three days before Christmas and spent the next three weeks in a military camp just to the north of the city. With French hospitality we were treated at Christmas to a choice meal and half a bottle of champagne. Once or twice we wandered into the city – very busy, lots of money changers and cafes – sweet, thick coffee and cakes when one could afford it! What surprised me a lot was the sight of fruiting orange trees (January!) and the cheepness [sic] of oranges – one could buy a dozen for next to nothing.
About the middle of January we embarked on a large passenger ship and after leaving Beirut spent few pleasant days on the journey to Marseille [sic]. They were pleasant because the weather was quite good and when we sailed through the Straits of Messina (between Sicily and Calabria – Italy was then still neutral) we had a good view of Mount Etna and sometime later the island and volcano of Stromboli.
The ship docked in Marseille on the 20th of January, 1940. Hard winter there - frost, some snow and a short stop-over in a camp just outside the town. Very primitive, I think we inherited it after the refugees from the Spanish Civil War. Eventually we were transported to a camp near a village of Sept Fonds, not far from Caussade in South-West France. Lovely countryside, but the camp not so good, very much like the one in Marseille.
The situation improved a lot when we were moved to Lyon in March, 1940. We stayed in Lyon-Foire, a large building which housed some sort of Exhibition a year or so before. It was located on the edge of the city and right on the bank of the River Rhone. Nearby was a nice park – I still remember a flock of peacocks which was kept there – they would strut around and display their dazzling tail feathers.
[page break]
3
The city itself was very impressive – lovely buildings, bridges over the Rhone, spring and early summer – about the best time of the year to get to know the place and to learn French which was most important for further service in the Air force there.
It did not last long. The German offensive started on 10th of May, 1940. We had an early raid by German bombers directed mainly against nearby airfield of Lyon-Bron used by our training Units. There were casualties, killed and wounded. One of the young officers in the air at the time attacked the formation of bombers but was himself shot down by them and killed – death of a hero!
The 18th of June, 1940 was a sad day in Lyon. The end of the fighting in France and the armistice. Also the tears of the women who wept as they watched us marching from Lyon-Foire to the railway station. Overnight journey and we found ourselves the next day somewhere near Montpelier on the Mediterranean coast of France. We waited there nearly two days because our Commanders expected a boat or a ship to transport us to North Africa or to England. Unfortunately, nothing turned up and we were loaded on to a train again and transported in the direction of the West coast of France. The train stopped for several hours in Toulouse on a siding and alongside a goods train. I mention this because someone discovered that one of the wagons of the goods train was loaded with boxes of fresh peaches. I do remember that we were very hungry, so in no time at all quite a few of the boxes found their way on board or our train. Soon there was no trace of the peaches and the empty boxes disappeared also. Since then, I have noticed, that I had become very indifferent to the sight or taste of fresh peaches.
After our stop in Toulouse the train headed southwards towards the Spanish frontier through Bayonne and halted eventually in St Jean de Luz. I think we spent the night there and the next day started boarding a British ship which was anchored about half a mile from the shore. The ship was called “Andora Star”.
The following letter from a reader appeared in the “Sunday Times” on the 13th of October, 1991:-
LAST TO LEAVE: The account of Sir James Goldsmith's escape from France in 1940, News Review last week stated that his family left from Bayonne in the last ship to leave for England. On Monday, June 24 1940, we (my family) overtook a German advance military unit just north of Bordeaux and raced on to Bayonne to find the British Consul had moved to St Jean de Luz. It was there that we boarded the Arandora Star, together with the remnants of the Polish air force. The ship sailed at 17.30 on June 24 with 4000 on board and reached Liverpool on June 27. That was the last sailing from the Atlantic coast of France to England.
I remember it well – I was there. - R.S. Bendall, Exeter.
I was there as well among the others....
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4
I also have a Post Scriptum about the ship “Arandora Star”. It happened that the journey from St Jean de Luz to Liverpool was the last that the ship completed successfully. The next sailing from Liverpool to Canada on the 1st of July 1940 ended tragically when the ship was torpedoed soon after passing Ireland by a U-boat whose Captain was the renowned Gunther Prien of Scapa Flow fame. The Arandora Star went down in half an hour with the loss of 800 lives.
My Guardian Angel was still taking care of me.
Tadek Wier.
October 1991.
[underlined] FLASHBACKS 4 [/underlined]
I ought to explain how it came about that I changed my surname from WIERZBOWSKI to WIER.
During the second half of 1948 I received my appointment to a Short Service Commission in the General Duties Branch of the Royal Air Force. This was a very welcome news because, before that, I spent my time in the Polish Resettlement Corps on detachments to various R.A.F. Units where I was employed on administrative duties and later, just over four months of 1948, on a training course in Millom, Cumberland, learning the trade of turner and metal-worker. I enjoyed that course quite a lot because I was always interested in technical matters. The theory and practice of turning and metal work came in very handy when I retired from the Royal Air Force in 1975 and managed to do one year's training in watch and clock repair under the auspices of the Training Opportunities Scheme (TOPS) which was then available for ex-service personnel.
It was great to get back to flying. I shall always be grateful to the members of the R.A.F. Selection Board for allowing me to continue my career of the military pilot which was my original choice when I left school in Poland in 1938. My flying stopped when I left 300 Polish Bomber Squadron a few months before the Squadron was finally disbanded on the 11th of October 1946.
Actually, I did a fair amount of flying with the 300 Squadron from the end of the war until 7th of June 1946 – my last flight there recorded in my Pilot's Flying Log Book.
My final wartime bombing raid was on Berchtesgaden, Hitler's residence in the Alps, on the 25th of April 1945. Three days later, on the 28th of April we were off again to Europe, but this time on, a kind of, rescue mission, that is to say, repatriating former British Prisoners of War from one of the Allied forward airfields which I think was somewhere in Belgium. We were scheduled to carry back 20 men from Belgium to an airfield just north-west of London. We were taking with us 20 extra Mae Wests (life jackets!) for our passengers. I mention this fact because the flight did not start very well as one of our engines caught fire few seconds after take off. To close the throttle, feather the propeller, turn off fuel and press the fire extinguisher took less than a minute and we were back again on the ground in 12 minutes-flat landing on 3 engines.
While we were carrying out our circuit and landing, Wing Commander Jarkowski, our Squadron Commander, did some very smart, fast footwork and organised a replacement aircraft, so that after landing all we had to do was to transfer our own flying gear and the extra 20 Mae Wests to the other aircraft which was waiting for us with engines warming up. We were slightly behind the rest of our chaps but at least we got on the way without further problems and well in time to collect our 20 passengers who, otherwise, would have been cruelly disappointed.
[page break]
2
About one and a half hours after take off from Belgium we were landing in England. There was a very touching moment when we were coasting in somewhere near Dover and my crew brought the passengers forward in small batches to see The Cliffs when we were approaching the coast. There were some tears – quite a few of the men have been in captivity since 1940.
Few days later starting on the 2nd of May we carried food supplies to Holland which was then still under German Occupation. The drop was made from a very low altitude to prevent scattering of the load. These supplies were desperately needed because the people in Holland were near starvation and the drops must have been a success because we flew again on identical missions on the 5th and 7th of May, 1945.
The war in Europe ended on the 8th of May 1945. From then on we were busy carrying supplies to Europe and on the return journey bringing back former Prisoners of War. One or two flights were to and from temporary forward airfields surfaced with PSP (Pierced Steel Planking) making it a bit of tight squeeze to land a four-engined Lancaster on an airfield used only by our Spitfires or other light aeroplanes.
These operations ceased towards the end of June 1945 and we were then able to relax and fly over Germany on sightseeing trips. I have two such sorties listed in my Log Book – the first with my crew only to see the damage caused to targets which we bombed and to observe the results of the bombing from a comfortable height of 2000 or 3000 feet. Appropriately, this flight was named “Post Mortem”. The second flight was made for the benefit of our ground crew personnel who worked all hours of day and night throughout the war years to keep our aeroplanes in the air. No doubt, they understood that without their contribution, it might have been German airmen looking at such sights over England.
In September 1945 we started flying to Italy to transport mainly army personnel back to United Kingdom for their leave. Again 20 men at a time were back in England in about seven hours. The route for the outbound and return flight was via the South of France, near Northern Corsica, then Elba, with landing at Pomigliano, close to Naples which was our pick up point. On one occasion, when we were approaching Naples, I made a wide circuit over the Vesuvius and Pompei and actually had a look from above inside the cone of the volcano. It looked like a funnel of ashes – that’s all.
We usually spent one night in Naples and then back home the next day with the passengers. I remember that on one of my trips when we were delayed, I managed to get a ticket and see a splendid performance of the opera “Aida” at the Royal Opera House in Naples. Beautiful singing, music of the orchestra, costumes and scenery – quite an experience, I must say.
As a Flight Commander, it fell to me on one return journey to carry 20 nurses – all females; and all delivered safely back to England.
3
Some of the flights were not very pleasant because, as the autumn progressed, we had to fly sometime through severe storms which seemed particularly vicious at that time of the year in the Bay of Genoa and on our route. For the comfort of the passengers and safety we had to maintain heights of about 5000 to 8000 feet and these are pretty nasty heights to fly through a thunderstorm. Fortunately, such bad flying conditions do not last for very long and twenty to thirty minutes was enough to get through the worst turbulence, hail rain, lightning or what there was about. Nevertheless, we were unlucky in losing one aircraft and the crew somewhere over the Mediterranean. I do not remember now if they had any passengers on board or not.
On the 4th of November, 1945, my crew and I flew to Gatow airfield, Berlin, for an overnight stay and to have a look at the capital of Germany which was then still mostly in ruins. A short wander around the City, a walk through the parts of Reich Chancellery which were accessible and a flight back to UK. I guess, we used the same corridor route as the aircraft which were to fly in the supplies during the Berlin Airlift a couple of years later.
I had 2000 flying hours flown on various types of aircraft when I left the Squadron in 1946. I suppose this flying experience helped me to be selected for service in the Royal Air Force and to be employed on flying duties as a pilot.
Because I haven't done any flying for over two years I had to complete a 3-week Pilot Refresher Flying Course at R.A.F. Finningley and then I was posted to No 4 Ferry Pool which at that time was located at R.A.F. Hawarden, near Chester. I also spent further 3 weeks at R.A.F. Aston Down, near Stroud, converting to other types of aircraft, as well as jets.
I found the task of ferrying aeroplanes very rewarding and interesting for two main reasons. The first was the fact that I visited just about all the airfields in use in the United Kingdom at the time, delivering or collecting aircraft. The flights were carried out normally in fairly good weather but, inevitably, one encountered all sorts of conditions on longer trips and sometimes diversions were necessary. Great experience for getting acquainted with the geography of the country as we operated the length and breath [sic] of Great Britain, from the very North of Scotland to the Channel coast in the South and from the North Sea in the East to all of Northern Ireland in the west. Later on we also flew on some of the ferrying duties between UK and our Units in the British Zone of Germany.
The second interesting point was the variety of the aircraft which we ferried about. I was lucky because I qualified on all the categories which were then currently in use. All the single-engined, twin, four-engined and jets. Such was the variety that flying three different types and categories in one day was routine.
[page break]
4
Looking through my Log Book and monthly summaries I have the following: -
January 1949 - 9 types
May 1949 - 10 types
June/July 1949 - 12 types
June 1951 – 13 types
With such a collection of aeroplanes, one would learn peculiarities of each type and remember the differences – Pilot’s Notes were always handy to refresh one’s memory. Fortunately, flying itself is always standard; forward fast or slow, left or right, and up or down!
As I mentioned before, ferrying of aircraft meant landing and taking off from a lot of different airfields. Visiting 20, 25 locations in one month was again routine. Normally, the flight details would be passed to these airfields by phone from our Operations Room first thing in the morning and, similarly, that information updated would be phoned through between the airfields concerned as the day progressed.
One of the items of information phoned through would be the aircraft captain’s name and, of course, a name like Wierzbowski with eleven letters in it offered innumerable permutations for misspelling to the Air Traffic Control clerks who would copy out the name on the Movements Board for use by the Controllers.
A pilot would usually visit or contact the Air Traffic Control after arrival or before departure to check on the weather or other flight information of the destination aerodrome. Nearly every time during my visits I would see my name misspelled in a variety of ways. Then, after a few weeks with the Unit even our operations people got tired of spelling-out such a long name and started using a shortened form of the first four letters of it, that is to say, WIER.
I suppose, it was lucky that we had no other pilot with a name like WEIR because that is how my name sometime still appeared. And still does!
I guess what really convinced me that it would be right to change my name formally was the incident which occurred when my daughter, Elizabeth, started attending the Primary School in Ellesmere Port where we lived from 1949 onwards. I do not remember the exact date when this happened but Libby was then about eight years old and, one day, her teacher asked Elizabeth to write her full name on the blackboard for all the children in the class to see. No doubt, the teacher meant well but was somewhat insensitive to Libby’s embarrassment at being so different from all the other Smiths, Jones, Mills or what have you. I believe, Libby cried and refused to obey the teacher’s request and had to suffer painful consequences as a result.
I changed my surname by Statutory Declaration soon after to WIER. Even after that, my name was still somewhat
[page break]
5
unusual because of the strange spelling and until my retirement from the Service in 1975 was the only one so written in the Official Air Force List.
My son, Michael, was born in February 1952, a couple of years after the change of my surname and was duly registered as Michael Richard WIER. Sometime in his teens he decided that he was deprived of his Polish heritage to a certain degree and so after his eighteenth birthday he added the full name of Wierzbowski to his own. This was all done legally and at his own expense. I must say, I was quite touched by his determined action and, of course, very proud of the fact that he wanted to acknowledge his paternal ancestry and descent.
I imagine all this sounds like a very long-winded explanation of a simple happening but I have to point out that the situation and conditions 40-45 years ago were very different from the present. Life is much simpler now – we have Singhs, Patels, Wongs or Muhammads, one hears names like Gorbachev or Yeltsin and nobody bats an eyelid at the sound of them. It sure is a very welcome progress!
Talking of progress; I had a good example of it when Michael was about 3 years old. I will mention it now because at the time it made me realize that the world is developing much faster than we think or are aware of.
We lived in Whitby, Wirral, not very far from R.A.F. Station, Hooton Park, which was then used by an Auxiliary Squadron equipped with jet aircraft. These were flying around quite a lot and on occasions fairly low so that Michael was very familiar with the shape and sound of these aeroplanes. Well, one day, we were waiting at the traffic lights on the road passing the end of the runway at Hawarden near Chester, where I was actually stationed. As it happened, and old ANSON (twin-engined, propeller driven aircraft), was coming in to land and passed in front of us very low, throttled back and with the propellers turning slowly. I still remember the remark which, greatly astonished Michael made :- “Look, Daddy, an aeroplane with windmills on!”
June 1992.
T. Wier.
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
Flashbacks 0 to 4
Description
An account of the resource
Starts with commentary on family in Poland and names recorded on visits to Poland. Continues with account of early life, school and life in Poland before the war.
Flashback 1. Mentions first operation on 300 Squadron at RAF Faldingworth. Continues with account of training in England at Hucknall, Montrose and Western Zoyland. He then trained as an instructor and was posted as a flying instructor. He volunteered for operational duties and eventually was allocated to a bomber squadron at RAF Finningley training on Wellington where he crewed up before posting to RAF Faldingworth, Continues with description of first operation to Wiesbaden and mistakenly landing at RAF Fiskerton on return. Concludes with a 10 year old schoolboy's wish to be a pilot.
Flashback 2. Account of Tadeusz joining the Polish Air Force including the reasons for his ambition, early experience of gliding, labour camp and military training. Continues with account of flying training with various incidents. Describes events during German invasion and escape to Romania.
Flashback 3. Continues with events after arriving in Romania and then travelling onwards by boat to Beirut then onwards to Marseille, Lyon. Gives account of German invasion of France in May 1940 and his escape via Toulouse, Bayonne and St Jean de Luz and then by British ship to Liverpool.
Flashback 4. Writes of changing his name and of his career in the RAF after the war including continuing flying with 300 Squadron and his final operation to Berchtesgaden as well as prisoner of war repatriation flights and food drops in Holland. Continues with account of flying troops back from Italy and a visit to Berlin. He was posted to ferry aircraft of many different types.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
T Wier
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1992-01
1991-06
1991-10
1992-06
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Poland
Poland--Zgierz
Poland--Dęblin (Warsaw)
Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
England--Nottinghamshire
England--Hucknall
Scotland--Angus
Scotland--Montrose
England--Somerset
England--Warwickshire
England--Rugby
England--Yorkshire
Germany
Germany--Wiesbaden
Romania
Lebanon
Lebanon--Beirut
France
France--Marseille
France--Lyon
France--Toulouse
France--Bayonne
France--Saint-Jean-de-Luz
England--Lancashire
England--Liverpool
Germany--Berchtesgaden
Belgium
Italy
Italy--Genoa
Germany--Berlin
England--Bridgwater
Romania
Romania--Tulcea
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1941
1944-12
1941-05
1944-06
1944-10
1945-02-02
1939
1939-09-17
1940-05-10
Format
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Twenty-five page printed document
Language
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eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BWierTWierTv1
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Civilian
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Contributor
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Jan Waller
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
300 Squadron
aircrew
crewing up
Halifax
Hurricane
Lancaster
Lysander
Magister
Operation Dodge (1945)
Operation Exodus (1945)
Operation Manna (29 Apr – 8 May 1945)
pilot
RAF Faldingworth
RAF Finningley
RAF Fiskerton
RAF Weston Zoyland
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/746/31383/BColemanTEColemanTEv1.2.pdf
a47a0c7dc2a02b29cf62e3ebd9646c70
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
Coleman, Thea
Theadora Erna Coleman
T E Coleman
Theadore Tielrooy
Description
An account of the resource
Two items. An oral history interview with Theadora Coleman (b. 1933) and a memoir. She grew up in The Hague and was a recipient of Operation Manna.
The collection was catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-09-14
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
Coleman, TE
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
MY STOREY
1940 - 1945
[black and white photograph]
Thea Coleman – Tielrooy
[page break]
CHRISTMAS 1939.
Quietly we followed one another into Opa's garden. It was early morning and still dark. The ground was covered in snow, which crunched under foot. Our breath was visible in the moonlight, while the shadows moved forward in a single file. Aunt Elisabeth turned around and put her finger on her lips to indicate that the girls should not spoil the surprise with their giggles.
The surprise was for Opa. All his children and grandchildren had come together to celebrate Christmas in Bergen, a little village north of Amsterdam. We stopped under his bedroom. My father stooped to dig for a stone and threw it against the window. We held our breath. A light switched on....All was going according to plan. We sang Silent Night, a beautiful arrangement for four voices, which sounded as pure as the clear frosty night. We were a musical family, singing and playing instruments were part of our upbringing. And there stood Opa looking down, the window wide open. He was surprised and moved. I noticed that he wiped his eyes with his handkerchief.
Opa fascinated me. He was awesome, with silver- grey hair. His bright blue eyes penetrated your soul. Though he had been a very strict father to his eight children, to his grandchildren he was definitely a lot milder. He kept us spellbound for hours with his stories. We were always delighted when we went to visit him.
This Christmas morning, after breakfast, we all went to church. Very upright, with his silver-knobbed walking-stick Opa led his family to his pew at the front. The church was in candle light and the aroma of the pine branches hanging all around was gorgeous. The minister talked about the dark days to come. I found that strange, because the days should be getting longer! The singing sounded better and louder than ever before! I remember the evening very well, twenty of us around the table was quite an occasion! Our eyes wandered towards the Christmas tree. It was fixed in a musical box, turning around playing carols. Underneath the tree we noticed a few parcels, wrapped in red paper, which was unusual. Normally presents were not given at Christmas. They were books for the children. The adults were talking very seriously. Now and then we heard the words, Austria, Poland and Hitler. We were soon to know what it was all about. It turned out to be the last Christmas together.
It had not been an easy life for my parents as they, like everybody else, were slowly building up their future again after the depression. Ten years after my brother Wim and my sister Willy, I was a planned baby and at my birth in 1933 I was given the name Theodora, Gift of God, which says enough. The greatest step forward, however, was to move to a new house in this recently developed area of The Hague, the Zuider park. The outside stone stairwell led to the front door of our two storey home. From the balcony at the front we overlooked a magnificent park as far as the eye could see.
I loved it all. We now had our own bedrooms, which pleased Wim and Willy. Soon they had to sit their finals for school and they needed peace for studying. They were allowed to put a lock on their door to keep me out. Rightly so, because their marbles and roller-skates were not safe! With Wim and Willy, and my parents, it was as if I had two fathers and two mothers.
I was delighted when in 1939 my younger brother Hans arrived, together with a
washing machine. Both were equally admired and intensely enjoyed! I had now a living
doll to play with and he was mine.
My father was strict, too strict maybe. He believed in a spartan approach. We had to finish our shower with the cold tap, which spoiled the bath fun. Good for your heart, he would say. He insisted that his children learned to swim as young as possible. He was not a very strong swimmer himself, though he rescued a boy from drowning when he was in his teens. With so many ditches around where we lived
now, it was essential. As soon as I started school, Wim and Willy had to take it in
turns to take me to the open-air swimming pool in the park, before breakfast. I
remember Erica, a fat lady with cropped ginger hair, who kindly rubbed my purple body dry after the lesson. I made sure it did not take me long to acquire the skill of swimming!
Piano lessons were next. The teacher, Bep, did not allow you to touch the instrument until you knew all the notes on the music-sheet and the corresponding keys on the piano. Finger exercises had to be done daily too. Finally I could open the lid and play. Practice time was early in the morning. Invariably my father would get out of bed when he heard my inability to count. Every time I made a mistake he would say: "Again, from the beginning!"
It always ended in tears. My mother often felt sorry for me, but I made progress. My father would also praise me:" Well done, Sunbeam!" Willy had piano lessons too, but she did not like it when the time came I surpassed her. Wim played the harmonium, until my mother discovered that the tutor played Wim's set pieces, while telling each other jokes. The lessons were stopped and Wim was quite happy with this.
I liked going to school. It was a long walk, but sometimes I could hitch a lift in the morning on the back of Wim or Willy's bike or my father's crossbar. We had two hours for lunch and all pupils had to go home, rain or shine. Wednesday afternoons were free, because of school on Saturday morning, which was still a normal part of the working week for everybody.
I spent a lovely time with Hans, or I played outside with the numerous neighbourhood kids. We got on very well together on the whole. On one occasion I had taken Willy's bag of marbles and lost them all in a game. I was very upset when they refused to return them. Fair is fair, but I was not looking forward to Willy's anger.
The Sundays were special. Church in the morning and long walks in the afternoon, either to the park or the city. The information given by my parents encouraged our interest, even to this day.
The weekend finished on Sunday night with a serial story, told by my father.
His own made-up tale and he had the knack of stopping at the crucial point that made iit hard to wait till the next episode.
The winter time was great when it started to freeze. As soon as the ice was strong enough the skates came out. Young and old were on their way. I learned behind a little chair or between adults, if they were willing to help.
On December 5th, it was the birthday of St. Nicholas. Some evenings before I had put my shoe on the hearth and sang a special Sinterklaas song up the chimney, hoping that when he rode his white horse over the roof tops, he would reward me with a sweet. Sometimes he didn't! One year, on the 5th, we took our places around an enormous crate in the front room. I was quite neNous, especially when the lid slowly opened and I saw Black Piet's face appear. He is St. Nicholas's helper. After all the poems were read and the presents received, Piet left. I was really sorry that Wim had missed all this. I had not even recognised him as Black Piet!
The long school holidays were a problem as most people had only one week off a year. Very few ever travelled abroad. For us, there were family visits. On rare occasions we would go by train and the destination was usually Bergen, to enjoy the woods, sand dunes and the sea. We would stay on after my parents went back home.
Opa and Aunt Elisabeth lived about a hundred metres away from each other.
Uncle Arie was in the Merchant Navy and often away for very long periods. Their children were about the same age as us, so it was fun to spend time with them. I found Aunt Elisabeth much stricter than my mother! Well, she had to be, I suppose. There were so many exciting things to do. We particularly loved a journey with "Bello", an old steam-train. We would hang out of the window and enjoy the smell of the puffs of steam-clouds drifting along, while the sharp whistle announced our arrival at the sea-side.
Opa would always come along on walks to the woods, encouraging us to collect fir-cones for his fire. How can we ever forget the buckets of green beans we sat stringing in the garden! Hoarding food had been forbidden recently, but everybody still bottled, salted and stored as before, just in case.
During the evenings we made music. One uncle, who still lived at home with Opa, was an accomplished pianist. The others all played a different instrument. We younger ones listened or sang. It was a super way to finish the days. It was at the end of this summer holiday, in 1939, that the idea was discussed for all the family to meet at Christmas.
PROLOGUE OF THE WAR.
What I could not have known then as a seven-year-old that, although I lived in a wealthy country, changes were afoot.
At this point I need to explain that my personal memories in this chapter have been supplemented by knowledge of the facts at an older age. We often had lengthy discussions about this period, at home and at school, long after the war was over, details of which should not be lost with time.
With the Depression years gone and with the wealthy possessions of our colonies in the Far East and the West-Indies you would have thought Holland had little to worry about - but no. The world-stage was politically in turmoil. Drastic measures had to be taken to economise. Insecurity and the disaster of unemployment made people tense and nervous. Especially my father, who had experience of it during the Depression years and had to work very hard now for long hours to keep his present job as an accountant.
No wonder I never got a scooter with proper tyres I so dearly wished for!
With no pension or benefits in those days, we had to save as much as possible for that famous "rainy day".
A great concern was the growth of the NSB, the National Socialists. With anxiety the development in Germany was being witnessed. Adolf Hitler, the leader of the National Socialists, had come to power in 1933 and since then there was a strong military build-up, as well as persecution of Jews. One could see, even then, which direction Germany meant to go.
During the First World War, Holland had been neutral but many doubted that this time it could be the same. It was desperately trying to avoid annoying the strong, states, Germany, Italy and Japan. At all costs, Holland wanted to prevent its people from being subjected to the cruel brutalities of war. When England and France declared war on 3rd September 1939, Holland proclaimed neutrality and Germany seemed to agree.
Germany, with its numerous kingdoms and dukedoms, provided many partners for royal suitors all over Europe. Wilhelmina, our Queen, had married Prince Hendrik in 1901 and in 1937 Juliana, the Crown Princess, also married a German, Prince Bernhard. Under the circumstances, he had to adjust quickly to the Dutch way of life.
When a state of emergency was declared on November 7th, our Queen paid a visit to King Leopold of Belgium, whose country was also neutral, to discuss the situation. They sent messages to all countries concerned to offer mediation. The Dutch have always been a sea-faring nation, so when our ships ran into mines and sank and the borders were violated by aircraft, a complaint was lodged. Goebbels dismissed these incidents as "unfortunate errors".
When Berlin reacted unfavourably to a complaint of yet another border incident, the Prime Minister cancelled all leave to protect the borders and to flood strategic areas of low-lying land, which would hamper the German infantry.
However, this proved an old-fashioned idea of defence, when you consider the use of German aircrafts.
The N.S.B. inside Holland now gave greater concern. Everybody knew that our country was full of German spies and of Dutch people who were pro-German.
They presented a positive danger. During April 1940 the Germans insinuated, for the
first time, a possible assault by the Allies in Holland and Belgium with the aim of attacking
Germany.
A radio-news broadcast was never missed. Also, the English and German ones were closely followed. I was not even allowed to whisper. Family discussions were held afterwards. The word "war" frightened me and, though I did not know what it entailed, I kept on asking if we were going to have one.
In the meantime, trenches were dug across the road from us. How futile that was became clear on that fatal early morning of 10th of May 1940. It was a most beautiful sunny start of the day. We were roused by a steady drone, occasionally interrupted with a diving noise that would become so familiar during the following years. We stood, stunned and pale, clinging to each other on the balcony. The sky was black with German fighter planes, dropping hundreds of parachutists into position. It was like a flock of birds disturbed by a gunshot. Never in my life had I seen anything like this. It was incredible! It was the distress on my parents' faces that made me control my excitement.
The war had started! Without warning Holland had been invaded! The radio gave out bulletins on the situation. Civilian airports and military bases were being bombed. The bridges over the big rivers were blown up to obstruct the Germans. The Germans, in Dutch uniforms, were unmasked and executed. They had to say the word "Scheveningen", and if they couldn't, you knew they were Germans in disguise.
It had only been a few weeks ago since the Prime-Minister had asked the population to stay calm, like Chamberlain waving his piece of paper in Britain, some months before. The N.S.B. correspondent, Max Blokzijl, the biggest traitor of all, reassured the Dutch that from 'German authorities’ source' there was not the slightest reason to suspect a hostile attitude from Germany.
The German Consul asked for an audience with the Minister of the Foreign Office three hours after the attack. He confirmed the invasion and advised that resistance was pointless. Providing that no opposition was given, Germany would guarantee our possessions overseas as well as our dynasty; otherwise, the risk of total destruction was imminent. Our Minister was so enraged about this unannounced attack that he informed the Consul to consider us at war.
I was very scared when I heard planes flying over and jumped on my mother's lap clinging on for comfort. My parents were doing their best not to panic and made a game out of covering the windows with tape, some quite artistically, to prevent them shattering in the bombardments. The black-out did not help me with my fear of the dark either. Hans, now eight months old, had my full attention while the news was on.
The soldiers fought hard and were brave to try and oppose such an enormous army, but it was useless to even contemplate a dent into this iron force. The few blown-up trains with tanks certainly did not weaken the German strength and 79 planes shot down sounds a great number but, compared with the number in action, it was nothing. In one of those planes shot down near The Hague was the German general Von Sponeck. It also contained a saddled horse on which he had hoped to enter The Hague, heading his victorious army, as well as a complete plan of action. The Queen and her Government had to be arrested immediately and to be sent to Berlin.
Everywhere heavy fighting went on, especially along the Rhine to keep the enemy from crossing the river with their heavy armour. Many lives were lost.
At the Palace, in Soestdijk, Prince Bernhard stood armed among the Dutch soldiers facing his own country-men, for which he gained the deepest respect of the population. He and Princess Juliana with their two daughters were picked up by a British destroyer on May 12th. The Queen boarded a British warship and headed for the, as yet unoccupied, province of Zeeland. When it became known that the enemy knew, the course was changed for Britain. The Government sailed that same evening, destination London.
By now most of the country seemed open for the German troops. An un signed ultimatum was presented to the Dutch commander in charge of the Rotterdam defence on May 14th, saying, that in two hours the Germans expected the resistance to cease, or else... The Dutch commander sent the letter back, requesting the signature, rank and unit of the sender. Though Rotterdam had already capitulated, the German bombers destroyed its entire centre, even before the two hours were up!
The whole of Holland had to capitulate; otherwise, all the big cities would have to share Rotterdam's fate. This was it! At six p.m. on May 14th the Dutch surrendered. The war had lasted for exactly five days!
When the German troops entered Amsterdam and The Hague on May 16th the true Dutch watched in silence and with sombre faces, the N.S.B. cheered and presented the troops with flowers and sweets and Rotterdam was still burning. We could see it from the upstairs window, where we watched it with tears running down our cheeks. So many innocent people were burnt alive. The destruction of the heart of commerce. The cranes in the harbour collapsed, like our hope.
To see so many adults cry everywhere had a bewildering effect on me.
Why? What was happening?
The newly elected State Commissioner, Seys lnquart, declared that the Germans had not arrived as conquerors and would not dream of taking away the freedom of the Dutch, nor impose the German doctrine. He had the audacity to say this in the Ridderzaal, where our Queen opened the new sessions of Parliament every year. Even Hitler commented on the "honest fighting of the Dutch soldiers and because no civilians took part, I might consider to free your P.O.W's."
Our P.M. in London sent a message to the Dutch nation that "it was a duty • to work together with the Germans as well as possible." This was considered as so obviously pro-German that he was immediately replaced by Professor Gerbrandy, Cherry-Brandy, as Churchill liked to call him.
One of the police departments, now all under German control, announced in June that one million kg. of potatoes had to be sent to Germany. This was the immediate beginning of the looting of our enormous amounts of stocked food, shoes and clothing. It was a pity that the population did not have a chance to acquire it before it all went to Germany, but a most accurate inventory was already in their hands. The Germans paid for it all by patiently printing Dutch money in unbelievable quantities.
From the beginning there had always been hope that the British would come to our aid, but no sign of them-as yet. Daily, heavy German bombers were flying west, whilst the German soldiers marched through the streets, singing about their next move, England. To support this financially, collections were held, which they called winter help. Fluorescent badges like little houses were given in return, which appealed too many, especially us children. To my disappointment I never got one.
The BBC news was followed intently and we heard about the Battle of Britain. The Germans were not very pleased with this outcome and it must have cut to the core when they marched and sang, "Und wir fahren gegen England", with passers-by adding "splash-splash, glug-glug" under their breath!
After the Battle of Britain, the glug-glug bit was also used as an end piece at dance parties consequently, all dancing was forbidden.
LIFE GOES ON. 1940-1942
At school we held regular drills when the air-raid siren sounded and we had to dive underneath our desks. To start with it was chaos and we found it hilarious. The headmaster had to come in and bash his cane on the desk in order to make him-self heard. Soon he convinced us of the seriousness of the exercise and after that we were as meek as lambs.
The summer holiday started well. I was so happy that I could go up lo the next class in September, but two of my classmates had to stay behind and do that year again, which was a pity.
Wim had finished his schooling and, at nearly 18 could be called up for military service al any lime. This was a great worry, of course. Willy was facing her final year, come September. She did nothing but revise even during the holidays and I had to keep well out of her way.
The Germans were very anti-British. Only their version of events was the right one, therefore they objected to people listening to the BBC and ordered that all radios should be handed in. Nobody did, or at least not immediately. A bit more time for me to listen to the children's choir of Jacob Hamel!
Wim and Willy had taught me an English love song "I love you, yes I do", and also "God save the King", but they strongly urged me not to sing these outside. A great shame, because I wanted to brag.
I was warned about our neighbours, who belonged to the NSB. Their balcony was next to ours. Al least, they were easily recognisable in their uniforms when they stood there showing off. You can imagine my mother's horror when she caught me singing a skit about the NSB on the balcony, as loudly as I could. "On the corner of the street stands an organ grinder. Not a man, nor a woman, but a traitor!" She pulled me back by my hair and thus I found out about dangers of many kinds.
So strong were the feelings against the NSB that you would not even dream of wearing a black skirt with a red jumper, their colours! An alarming number of the Dutch became members of the NSB, convinced they would benefit from being on the winning side. However, once they belonged it was impossible for them to leave. They proudly wore their badges on the lapels and their children were given lots of fun at the Party clubs. To prove to be a worthy member they were expected to pass on messages and information to the authorities, which created mistrust from the outset.
I received, yet again, a warning from my parents to avoid them as much as possible. I did not mind, because only very few members with children lived near us. Little by little restrictions were imposed. To organise the housekeeping was a nightmare for everyone with the shortages, queuing and coupons. Sugar had already been rationed in 1939, which was hard on us as my father drank sugar with tea, instead of the other way around!
By 1942 everything was on coupons, even vegetables. Food-hoarding was forbidden, but many an evening we were all involved in bottling whatever we could get hold of. The washing up was usually left to me and all was done in good spirits, singing away together. We were so pleased when the preserved vegetables, meat and my favourite, apple-sauce, could be hidden away.
During the autumn my father started to bring home apples he managed, again, to obtain via connections with his firm. Eventually there were so many that a cupboard was emptied and planks fixed at the front. It filled up quite nicely and the odd one I pinched was not missed. They were delicious!
No eggs. Pigs and chickens had already been slaughtered before the war to keep the grain for bread-making. Fortunately, we only ate meat on Sundays as a rule. The choice was very limited. It was either horse-meat, often served with red cabbage, or veal and was both very scarce. Calves were killed to prevent them drinking the precious cow's milk.
There was still a choice left what to have on your first slice of bread, the subsequent ones were with 'contentment', that meant with nothing. We did not complain much and ate what was given. That is, except my white pet rabbit.
It was destined for the Christmas dinner! I howled and objected furiously and fled upstairs. Even to this day, I can see its skinned body on the kitchen table when I happened to come down a bit too soon. Nobody could eat it...
In the park, across the road, a large area had been turned into allotments for schoolchildren. Wim already had a plot a year or two and now managed to get me one also. It was run by professional gardeners and nothing less than perfect was acceptable. It was a yearly job for all of us to prepare the site. First, we had to tread paths over the whole area and then divide it into beds, which were measured exactly to the cm. into the same sizes. The vegetables had to be grown like a regiment in straight lines. Rain or shine, we had to attend and it was hard work, but who cared when you brought the proceeds home, for free, and you saw the relief on your mother's face. To her it was an answer to a prayer. Our potatoes, in particular, were very good, much better than the poor quality in the shops, if available of course.
The evening meal was discussion time as well as for explanations. The newly issued stamps had to be stuck more to the left on the envelope to leave a space for the imaginary stamp of our Queen's head. We never forgot to do this.
There would be no more museum visits, because paintings, if not looted, were hidden. (In the sand-dunes, but re-appeared after the war none the worse for wear). However, the children's museum was still open but for limited hours.
Church bells did not ring out anymore. Some were successfully hidden, but a great number had already been seized by the Germans. A deal was struck that, if the bells could not get through the door, they could stay in their position as long as they were not rung. Miraculously one or two doors narrowed overnight!
All along the West coast a heavily armed and mined defence line, two miles wide, was being built. It was out of bounds for civilians. Somewhere we still have a clandestine photograph of the pier of Scheveningen on fire. The story was that the Germans thought that it was a bridge to England. Whatever the reason, the sea-side trips were over for everybody. The people who lived within this zone had to vacate their house and move further inland. Most families had to double up with strangers and store their furniture or leave it behind.
- We received a telegram both from Opa and Aunt Elisabeth asking for help and advice. We did not have a telephone in those days. My father went there immediately and must have been of great help. Opa found a detached house, about 20 miles further north, in Heilo. Aunt Elisabeth was just as lucky to find a big empty house, a few miles outside Amsterdam along a lonely road amongst scattered farms and several windmills.
At last they could move with the furniture to their new house. As for us, we would miss the long walks in the dunes, the swimming in the sea and the fun on the beach. Teenagers may sometimes cause problems.
One evening Willy dropped a bomb-shell whilst we were having dinner. "Do you know that I don't need your permission anymore if I decide to marry a German soldier, now I am over 16 years of age? I hear it is a new law." My father went berserk! Normally the age of consent was 31. I am sure she did it to annoy. She always liked to challenge, especially my father.
One morning a letter was delivered for Wim. Indeed, the call up papers had arrived for the Arbeits Einsatz, a work force for Germany. My parents were naturally upset, but there. was nothing one could do about it. A few weeks later he arrived home in his uniform. It was a faded green. I liked his jodhpurs with bandages up to his knees, but most of all his peak-cap with yellow and green tassel. I tried it on and saluted the mirror. He was also issued with a spade, which I thought was funny for a 'soldier". He was on a short leave before he had to return to his unit and go to Germany.
My mother and I took him to the tram. Tearfully we waved as the tram screeched around the corner. "I'll be back soon," he shouted. It would be years before we met again.
This was also a premature end to his recent employment at the Ministry of Public Works.
It was in 1942 when Willy passed her finals for the Grammar school and was immediately employed by Van Leer's Vatenfabrieken, once a Jewish firm, but now under German control. She was promoted quickly to the technical department, which she enjoyed. Her dearest wish would have been to study engineering, but universities were closing.
She had less time for me and also with Wim gone, my position in the family greatly improved. The whole of our house was at my disposal without restrictions. I could be my happy-go-lucky self. Life was more or less normal. The occupation did not affect us children too much, apart from the shortages and the presence of soldiers.
1942 was the year with many changes afoot of which I was blissfully unaware. Through his firm, my father met Mr. Sanders, a Jew, who helped other Jews flee via
- an escape-route to Switzerland and Spain. He had also set up-an organisation that took care of Jews who had already gone into hiding in Holland. Dr. V, also a member, persuaded my father to join this resistance movement, soon followed by Willy and Jan and Lien Marijnis, the couple in the top flat. He was in the police force.
My mother was not to know anything about all this. One day on my way to school; I
saw a flurry of activity. Men were busy pinning up a notice, 'Forbidden for Jews', on the park entrance, the benches, the tram, the swimming pool and even on the door of the hairdressers. Everywhere! Some shops were being boarded up. People stopped to watch and I wondered what they were whispering about together.
The persecution of Jews was in full swing and all of them were ordered to wear the Star of David, my mother explained. Not everybody did of course, despite the promise of 'protection'. A small number of pupils in our school left. Teachers and professors were being sacked and when the students rebelled, the universities were closed. They could either all hide, or be sent to Germany to work in the factories.
How easily one could get involved. One evening we received a visit from a lovely couple with their three sons. They were Jews. Their house and the contents had been confiscated by the S.S. They were fortunate to have escaped arrest, because they happened to be elsewhere at that time. The father was short and well built with a kind face, the mother was a bit taller and very elegant. I was sent upstairs, bursting to know what it was about. When they eventually left, the eldest, who was my age stayed behind.
I was so excited to hear that Fred was coming to live with us. He had lovely short, wavy black hair and his mother's dark-grey eyes.
I had it all worked out. He could go to my school and we would walk there together. He could have my bed as long as I got Wim's! At the time, understandably, I totally overlooked the fact that here stood a young boy giving a shy impression, but who was in reality very unsure of himself. To be separated from his parents, knowing his situation and to have to live with strangers could not have been easy. Besides, he was given a new surname and had to be very careful not to slip up.
He felt so much happier when he was told that John, his middle brother, was living with Aunt Elisabeth and Frits, the youngest, with Opa, who had remarried after Oma's death in 1940. Frits was a three-year old with blond curly hair and light grey eyes.
Fred and I got along very well together. However, I asked him so many questions that it frightened him and he complained to my father, who took me aside to 'have a word'.
To my friends and the neighbours, he was to be an evacuated relative, or better still, to walk away when asked who he was. Fred rarely went outside, anyway.
He played his part extremely well. I never knew that he pretended to go to school. He walked around the block and when I was out of sight, he returned home. Sometimes, usually when it rained, he could leave home after me, because 'his school was closer by'. I was totally taken in by that one! Willy had taken it upon her self to try and teach Fred. 'To help him with his homework', she explained to me. It
required a lot of patience as he was not particularly very keen. I remember her shouting at him. ·
During the summer we went on a week's holiday and cycled all the way to Markelo to stay at a farm. Since the cows were in the fields, we slept on fresh straw in their stables. Great fun! The weather was good. We played hide-and-seek among the corn sheaves, or we went on bike-rides. On one of them we passed a butcher's shop where my mother spotted a magnificent piece of ham. Unfortunately she had left her purse behind, so we cycled all the way back to collect it. When we returned, the ham proved to be made of wood!
Every Friday night Fred would wear his kippah. Not to be outdone, I demanded one too. Margot, his mother, knitted me a nice woolly hat in the inevitable · red, white and blue colours as a St. Nicholas present. She had also dressed my favourite doll, Pummeltje, in a gorgeous outfit all sewn by hand. Fred's parents were both there for the occasion.
All presents were individually tied to a long string from the kitchen chimney and right through the hall to the living room. My patience was tested to the limit, because my biggest present was the last one and right at the end of the string.
1943
At the end of 1942 the BBC broadcast some hopeful news. The British were fighting the Germans in North Africa!
Our stored, red, Edam was christened 'Tunis Cheese' and would be consumed as soon as Tunesia had fallen, which happened in March. I can't remember, but I bet it was delicious!
No BBC news was ever missed from now on. What really annoyed me were the discussions at home in either English or German. I felt very much left out. I thought myself disciplined enough not to talk about what went on in the home with anybody. One could not take any chances.
By now our home had become a through house for people for whom a place to hide needed to be found. It was mostly for one person at a time. He or she slept in Wim's room and was usually gone by the time I got up. The introduction of the curfew had complicated matters, especially for Willy. Nights were far safer to move about, unseen, on her rounds to deliver coupons to the addresses of persons in hiding, or accompanied people to their new homes.
Years later, she told me about her fears, when she heard foot steps in the night, hoping there would be a dark corner to slip into, if need be. She always tried to pick the safest possible route, if she could manage it.
Finding new addresses was essential. There was a growing demand, not only for Jews, but also for students and young men. It was all very dangerous. You risked your life by putting them up and many people were just too scared.
The big question was who was really trustworthy? Money and favours were given for betrayals and not everybody was anti-German....
The badly needed money, clothing, but above all, false papers were my father and his group's department, later also joined by Willy.
Whatever went on behind the scenes, great care had been taken that, at least, the Sundays were kept as before. My father tried to choose a good story-telling vicar for the church service, often not the nearest to walk to! I found sitting still for an hour an ordeal, but the singing made up for it. Willy or a house guest would baby-sit for Hans, who was too young and Fred, who always managed an excuse why he could not join.
To my delight, a visit to my maternal Oma was on the agenda when the weather was not good enough for walks. Oma was quite short, not much taller than me. Her long hair was plaited into a bun at the back of her head exposing her wrinkled face with the kindest of dark brown eyes. She was extremely deaf and used a horn as a hearing-aid, which she avoided, if possible. Her help was indispensable during those years.
Every given opportunity was taken to curl up on a chair to read. Once a week we borrowed books from the library, but it was a very long walk. Occasionally we would cycle, with me on the carrier, holding the books.
However, a bike was an important mode of transport with which the Germans agreed. When they needed one they would stop you, take it and ride away on it! When they wanted even more, they would round up quite a number and load them onto trucks at the end of the day. So, we preferred to walk from then on.
Mr. Sanders, alias Mr. Ringeling, had been one of our more permanent guests of late. He had Wim's room, which was now out of bounds for everybody else. Mr. Ringeling had a round, friendly face, always smiling and his eyes twinkled behind his gold-rimmed spectacles. The little hair left on his head was grey. I guessed he must have been a lot older than Matty, his secretary, who had also been living with us before. I liked him and so did Matty.
She was a real beauty and great fun to have around, with lots of laughter. We often played board games together. I missed her when she moved upstairs to live with Lien and Jan Marijnis. Fred had left us for some reason and went to live with the family Landrok. He was the chauffeur for the same firm my father worked for. Fred had taken over Wim's allotment with great enthusiasm. His contributions to our food supply would now certainly make a difference. He would be missing his 'garden', as he called it. Of that I was convinced. I missed him as a friend. He had been with us for a year. My mother panicked when, one day, my father asked me what my headmaster was like. Could he be trusted? "Dick! What are you saying!?" she exclaimed. "Don't worry! I'll ask him if he belongs to the NSB", I suggested. I was strongly dissuaded to even think about it! In view of the 'activities' at home, my father thought it best to finally obey the 'last' order and hand in the radio. That way his name would be safely on that register. We had another one, anyway. I went with him to deliver it to the collection point at a school close by. I kissed it sadly goodbye, before it was put onto the pile. Also tin and copper had to be handed in. If you had a garden, you could bury it. We painted ours!
House searches took place at random, therefore, the less they could arrest you for, the better!
BETRAYAL
When a road had been closed off and I saw a truck parked in the middle of the street and armed soldiers going in and out of houses, I froze, especially when people were being led to the truck. The only place I wanted to be was at home.
My parents were very well aware of the danger they let themselves and the family into. Believe me; it must have taken a lot of heart-searching. Once you got involved, there was no way back. They could not have lived like a good Christian without helping others in need. Many years later I asked them if they would do it again, knowing what was to come? After some thought, their answer was still, "Yes, we would".
Mr. Sanders had fallen in love with Matty and decided he preferred to live together at the same address and also moved to Lien and Jan Marijnis' top flat. He wanted to leave his clothes at our house, behind locked doors. So now and then he would call in to change, but always after my bedtime. I rarely saw them.
Nobody knew about that impressive German officers-uniform or the revolver in his wardrobe. Who could have known? My mother certainly didn't. For her own protection, she was kept out of all the goings-on. She was incapable of telling lies, even white ones. Had she known about Wim, she might have been caught out, when people asked after him. Right up to the end of the war she believed he was in Germany, which worried her beyond imagination. She suffered in silence, rarely showing her feelings for Hans and my sake.
Neither my father nor Willy had told her that Wim was in hiding in De Bilt. Nevertheless, stress took its toll. She was dissatisfied with her photo on her 1.0. card and had another one taken, on which she looked so old and haggard, showing the strain, that she stuck with the original. There was worse to come! Poor Matty! Her mother had been arrested and she was told that she would be released if she, Matty, could arrange a meeting with Mr. Sanders. What was she to do? The advice, of course, was dead against it. The Germans were obviously on his trail and he would be a big catch!
Whatever happened, I don't know, except that they met on het Valkenbosplein and she kissed him, whereupon Mr. Sanders was arrested and taken to the Gestapo Headquarters. Here he was spotted by an under-cover resistance worker, who heard that an address book with names had been found on him. Unforgivable!
Mr. Sanders always carried a cyanide pill, just in case. Whether he was able to swallow it, is not known. His body was later identified by his teeth. Matty's mother was never seen again, neither was Matty. All I knew, at that time, was that Mr. Ringeling had not come home that night. The next day started like any other. My father and Willy had gone to work. I was off to school and Hans and my mother enjoyed their time together.
At midday I hurried home for lunch, but nobody was .in! I panicked. This had never happened before. I rang the bell, banged on the door and screamed. Lien found me sobbing at the bottom of the outside stair-case. I was frantic! She put her arms around me and explained that I would find my mother and Hans at Hedwig's
house at the end of our block of houses. Her husband, Toon, was at sea working with the Allies. He and my father had been friends since their school days. I spurted the 100 meters, or so, because I was afraid that I might be too late back for school. Also, what about my lunch? I was hungry!
My mother was sitting on a chair with Hans on her lap. She looked ashen. Perhaps she was ill? On this beautiful, sunny day she was wearing the terracotta dress she had just finished knitting the night before. What was going on? This is what had happened. Within minutes of Mr. Sander's arrest the members of this resistance group had been alerted by way of a jungle-drum method. The advice was to go into hiding immediately, with their family. My father had been warned at the office and he in turn warned Willy. Dr. V. did one of the rounds on his bike and told both Lien and my mother, "Get out!" and was on his way again to warn others. It took place quite early that morning; my mother wasn't even fully dressed yet. She was too scared to go upstairs, so she put on her knitted dress, which she had left in the living room. She may have taken her purse and maybe a toy for Hans, certainly nothing else. She picked Hans up and left the house.
Lien didn't think there was any need yet for such a hurry. Besides, she and her husband, Jan, relied also on a cyanide pill and they decided to stay put. My father, meanwhile, was waiting anxiously at the station. My mother was waiting for instructions from him. Willy raced up and down on her bike to convey their messages. It would have been so much simpler if we had had a telephone in those days.
During Willy's time of work experience at the Van Leer's Vatenfabrieken, she had stayed for a few months with Mr. and Mrs. Mulder in Vreeland. He had given her their address - in case. Finally, the three of them, my father and mother with Hans left The Hague for Vreeland, where my father remained. After a couple of days it was thought safer for my mother to go to uncle Ab, her brother in Kampen. Willy moved in with distant relatives, Rein Lenghaus and his three daughters, on the other side of The Hague, het Bezuidenhout. There were not many hours to spare before the start
of the curfew. Where could I be taken to at such short notice? This was a big problem!
Willy put me on the carrier of her bike and refused to listen to my whining. I wanted to go to our house - I wanted my mum - Where are we going to? etc. She probably told me to shut up. Understandable, of course. After all, she must have been under a tremendous strain.
At her wits' end, she had decided to ask Ds. Straatsma for help. He was the vicar by whom she had recently been confirmed, after attending his classes for the past year. Willy held my hand and rang the bell.
I recognised him straight away from the story-telling in church and as the man with the three moustaches. He had enormous black eyebrows. I was welcome, providing it would only be for few weeks or so. They were a very kind, older couple with a different life style from ours. I was just in time to join them for dinner. I presumed that the finger bowl was for drinking out of. A good start! It must have been as difficult for them as it was for me. All I had were the clothes I stood up in, and that was it. No special outfit for the Sunday. I sat next to Mrs. Straatsma in her pew. The church was over full. I heard her whisper to a friend, who wondered who I was, that I was a child of a family on the run.
This was the end of my childhood! It did not take the SS very long to turn up at Marijnis' and our house. Armed soldiers ran up the stairs and arrested Lien and Jan, who were both at home. Jan was sentenced to death and executed, maybe something to do with being a policeman. Lien was tortured, because they had found an empty holster in their house and they wanted to know the whereabouts of the revolver and the jewellery belonging to the Jews in hiding. Finally, they let her go.
At the same time they were banging on our door, furious that nobody was in. They sealed the lock, which meant that the contents had now been confiscated and ready to be collected. The events of the last few days had been quite a blow to my mother and the fear for my father was choking her. Now she was about to lose her home, as well as the laboriously collected belongings. It saddened her deeply. Willy thought it a downright shame!
Besides, there was still that uniform and the revolver, together with a huge supply of cigarettes and expensive cigars, which my father was storing for a befriended tobacconist. Not to forget the stamp collection and the photographs... Willy's mind was quickly made up. It was worth the risk. First of all, the seal had to be broken. That was a daring deed in itself! There was no knowing when the SS would return to collect the contents... The first time the bell rang, Willy jumped out of her skin, but it only happened to be the milkman. It made her realise she had to have an escape-route ready. 'Via the roof, she told me later. She packed for three days and three nights, as quickly as possible. To avoid suspicion from the outside she left the curtains behind. The vast amount of bottled food she handed to a neighbour to look after, until it could be picked up at a later date. She had even packed a separate suitcase with clothes for each of us. What a godsend that she had even thought of that!
She had ordered a removal van for 5.30 a.m. and when it drew up, she handed them the keys and she herself hid behind a bush in the park to watch it all going according to plan. Part of the contents was bound for uncle Ab in Kampen, who had a ware-house, the rest was being stored in a garage in the Celebesstraat, which Willy had rented. One can only imagine how she must have felt when she turned the key in that lock! After the war I heard how it had enraged the Germans when they found that the birds had flown and the house had been emptied. The indentations of the butts of their guns had marked the front door. An all-out hunt for my father had already begun. At 1 a.m. the SS arrived at the house of his boss, Mr. Van Oortmersen, and because he could not give them any information, he was arrested and deported to a concentration camp in Germany, where he remained until the end of the war. Opa could not tell them either where his son might be. He was taken to the Scheveningen prison, alias 'Oranje Hotel', together with Trijn, his wife, and Frits, where he was interrogated by the Gestapo.
My father was devastated and wanted to turn himself in. However, it was pointed out to him that that would not release them and that he would be shot, if he were lucky. 'There was still far too much to be done for so many others'. There may have been inside help. After a week Opa and Trijn, including Frits, were free to go. Opa even asked for the return of the box with the silver guilders that had been taken at the house-search! I don't know whether it ever was.. My father had obtained a new I D card in the name of Swaagman, who had been born in Indonesia, which could not be checked, because of the war with Japan. His present address was a bombed housing estate, somewhere in Groningen. The most dangerous part was the taking of the legitimate photograph with your left ear showing. He decided to wear spectacles for this occasion. His picture showed his anxiety!
The Resistance had asked the RAF if they would bomb the Kleikamp, a large villa opposite the Peace Palace in The Hague, where the data of the population were kept, because they needed to be destroyed as a matter of urgency. This took place in April 1944. Only from then on could my parents, and everybody else with false papers, begin to feel a little more at ease with their new identities. My mother did not really have enough to occupy herself with in Kampen. She missed my father and the distance between them made her feel lonely. On very rare occasions, she and Hans would travel to Vreeland to visit him for a weekend. Far from an ideal situation.
As it was, uncle Ab and aunt Kitty, his wife, lived above the premises of his transport business with far too many strangers moving about the place. Besides, they had just become the parents of a baby daughter, Margreet. My mother was concerned about the danger in which she was putting her brother and his family and she also realised their fear about her staying with them. When she heard Willy's good news she was so happy and so relieved. Through contacts with Mr. Stoffels and his Jewish wife, Willy had managed to rent a large room on the second floor at the back of their old patrician house in the Joh. Verhulststraat. A quiet area in Amsterdam-Zuid. Our furniture from the garage in The Hague was moved in, including the piano. It happened to be a most welcome fall-back address in time to come! As for me, my weeks at the Straatsma's had come to an end. To my surprise I met up with Fred again at my next address. We were both delighted and hugged each other like long lost friends. A pity that I could only stay there for a week. Fred appeared extremely happy living with the family Landrok and not having children of their own they, in turn, had really taken to him. They formed a cheerful trio. I am sure I was jealous and felt left out. They could handle Fred, but not me. I was mixed up and unsettled, even dramatically threatening with suicide if the war had not ended in three weeks. A week later Willy came to collect me. They were pleased to see me go!
KOOTWIJKERBROEK
Ds. Straatsma had kindly organised for me to live with two of his lady friends, who, years ago, had been his confirmation candidates and they had kept in touch with each other ever since. At last Willy and I had caught the train to Barneveld. For most of the way armed German soldiers were getting on and off, which made me feel nervous.
Willy had not been able to give me any more answers to the numerous questions I put to her during our long journey, bar telling me that I was going to stay at a farm. This could turn out to be rather like one of our family holidays, except that I would be there by myself. I was excited and apprehensive at the same time!
We were the only passengers leaving the station, where we met the two ladies waving at us from an open horse-drawn carriage, the only available transport. Buses and taxis had stopped running already quite some time ago.
We soon left Barneveld behind and were driving into the open countryside ef the Veluwe, one of Holland's beauty spots. The unobstructed view was such a contrast with a city, like The Hague. We passed large pinewoods, acres of purple heather and yellow cornfields which, in those days, were mingled with red poppies and blue cornflowers. Now and then we came across a village with their small houses or huge villa's.
The regular rhythm of the horse's hoofs was the only distinctive sound. Whilst Willy held an animated conversation, I sat quietly in a corner clutching my small suitcase. From time to time I dared to glance at the two middle-aged women and wondered what they would be like and what would be in store for me.
Ursula had been a nurse and Rita a teacher. After they had both retired early, they decided to buy and run this remote smallholding in Kootwijkerbroek. It was a typical, traditional farm with a thatched roof. The green, wooden shutters on the outside of the tall windows were always being closed at nightfall.
The living room was massive with two huge open fireplaces at either end. noticed a large side of smoked bacon hanging up in one of the chimneys. Even the grand piano did not appear to fill much space at all.
Ursula and Rita shared a bedroom with a four-posted bed each, draped in clouds of organza. In a corner of the room was a shower-cubicle, but not for me to use. I can't actually remember ever having had a bath as such. It merely amounted to a strip wash in the large, tiled washroom, which was a part of the barn. My bedroom, under the rafters, was small but comfortable and I was able to see the stars at night through the skylight, which made me feel happy and secure. The barn formed an integral part of the house and was joined up by the same roof. A door through the hall gave access to the animals there. Our brown, blazed horse, called Vos, had already been put back into his stable again and was tugging at the hay from a rack above his head. The jet-black horse next to him appeared to be a less friendly one. They were facing the two Frisian dairy-cows at the opposite side of the threshing-floor.
Fortunately, we had used the inside door into the barn. No way would Willy or I have dared to enter from the outside through those enormous barn-doors, guarded by five huge dogs on long chains, which gave them plenty of scope to move about. Normally they would be in their baskets, but if anybody came near, even Ursula or Rita, they would jump up and bark ferociously. Willy and I were not keen! The most affable one of the dogs was a St. Bernard with his drooling face and at least twice my size.
Outside we spotted many farm-cats and an abundance of chickens roaming about freely, not paying any attention to anybody. The geese waddled away under loud protest. Maybe somehow, they knew that they were being fattened up for the Christmas dinner!
It seemed an ideal place for me to stay and Willy was relieved that she did not have to worry about my lodgings anymore. The following day we took her back to the station with the black horse. He was much faster than Vos and because I started to scream, he bolted. It was a scary moment, therefore, on the way back I was handed the reins to show me that there was really no need to be afraid of him. Just before Willy departed, Ursula had suggested bringing more clothes next time and they would write to her regularly to keep her informed -about me. As neither of them ever went near shops, they had no idea that nothing was obtainable anymore. Willy was going to receive many letters with complaints about my clothes or the money. It was never enough. Luckily, my father's firm kept paying him his salary throughout the war years and had to honour the ladies' requests. What else could he have done? In his situation he was at their mercy. I soon settled into the routine of farm-life. Rita and Ursula took care of everything themselves with no help, except for harvesting and sowing, when neighbouring farmers helped each other. I quite liked to be treated as an equal and I was soon turning into a useful farm-hand. Milking the cows I found too difficult, but I could churn the butter and this became my job, which suited me fine, because I could do this sitting next to the fire. The only other warm place was the kitchen. I must say, both ladies were very good cooks. The three of us always took a break after lunch. Two big wooden crates covered with a mattress made up my midday bed in an alcove, off the living room. I had seen the mill around the corner was in action, so I wandered up to it. The miller and his wife were pleased to see me and asked me in. They showed me how a corn-mill worked. However, I was more interested in their seven children and I promised to call in again soon.
Rita had other ideas. For some reason she disapproved of my visit to them. She had suddenly decided that I should not miss out on my education. Since there was less work to be done on the farm at this time of the year, my lessons were scheduled for the morning and Rita would be able to do the marking during our rest period after lunch. Little did she know I could hear her every comment to Ursula! Each spelling mistake had to be corrected and written out again ten times. Not funny when, one day, she counted 117 of them! It made me stay in bed a lot longer to avoid her punishment, but at least it taught me to be more accurate. How I hated the lessons from now on, as well as being prevented to play with the miller's kids, because of lack of time.
There were so many jobs for me to do, that I was not given a chance to be lonely. I loved to help with grooming the horses and feeding the animals- even the grunting pig in the other big barn, which also held the two carriages. The fallen apples in the orchard had to be gathered and prepared, by slicing and stringing up, to be dried. Every Friday the gravel around the farm had to be raked, making my arms ache! My shoes were useless for this type of life. I had to wear wooden clogs instead, for which Ursula had kindly made me a pair of soft, velvet insteps and told me to line the clogs with hay when my feet were sore or cold. That helped, when I had to make the long trek to the only available, small shop. Although the farm was self-sufficient, certain items had to be bought.
I was totally unprepared for the day the butcher arrived. The pig was dragged out of his pen onto a table near the barn. He squealed whilst hot water was being poured over him, to soften the hairs to make shaving them off easier. This, I could not bear! I fled upstairs into my bed and put my pillow on my head to drown the noise. Very much later, when I eventually ventured to go downstairs, I found the pig hanging, splayed, on a ladder in the hall. I screamed! They laughed! On the floor, at the bottom of the ladder were several bowls containing the insides, marked with the inspector's purple stamps of approval. I found the whole scene revolting and I did my utmost to avoid the hall. This side of farming was not for me. Neither was the digging up of sugar-beets with a fork in the evenings. There was still a small area to be done, before the frost arrived and the ground would become too hard.
When it was dark, Jan would turn up to help. I had never seen him before. He was a student in hiding, who lived in a hollowed-out hay-stack in the farm-yard. A man of few words and did not appear to be very happy. With clear skies and by moon light we were like shadows in a spooky story! Willy had made a special effort to arrive the day before my birthday, to be with me on the actual day. She was amazed to see how I had grown in all directions in such a relatively short time, an obvious result of a healthy life. No wonder, the ladies had complained about my clothes being too tight. Willy's present to me was a book, as well as two new dresses. One, dark blue, inserted with knitted red and white stripes, the other was a 'two made into one'. I don't know how she had found the time for it. Anyway, they fitted and I liked them. Rita was not over impressed. Ursula's opinion was kinder.
The next day Willy had to leave before I got up, in case I would be upset! This was worse and I cried for days. They had done this once before with my father. One night I had been in the wash-room, when I saw a light approaching through the half round stable window. My heart stopped, but it happened .to be my father on his bike, delivering a rush mat they said they needed. I had to go to bed soon after, and by the morning he had already left. That, I found difficult to forgive.
We were having great problems with mice, which had to be solved before it got even worse than it was already. They had entered the house, scurrying across the floors and having a feast in the pantries. As the cats were unable to cope with that number, a mouse hunt was organised. A fair amount of sheaves of corn was stored above the stables, under the rafters.
Rita and Ursula clambered up a rickety ladder to throw it all down onto the threshing-floor. They discovered that it was infested with nests. I had been given a clog in each hand and my task was to kill as many as I could. The dogs went berserk when hundreds of mice scattered all over the place and all the while I stood, petrified, with my arms raised. When finally the exhausted ladies came down, they could have gladly throttled me for not killing a single mouse!
It would soon be Christmas and the preparations were in full swing. It had been tradition that Ds. Straatsma and his wife would come to stay for those days with Rita and Ursula. The living room was already decorated and looked a picture, with a big tree in the middle and lots of branches around the fire-places. It was all very cheerful, especially with the candles, which had been bought and put away when they were still available, some years ago. We had a lovely time together and I felt quite happy. It helped that I knew them. The dinner was indeed a goose, stuffed with dried apples. Not my taste! Ds. Straatsma played the grand piano for hours on end and I thoroughly enjoyed the music. As I was not allowed, and the ladies could not play, this was the only time it was being used. Not long after the New Year, Ursula developed a brain tumour and two of the miller's children had diphtheria, so the mill had been put in quarantine. Apart from the running of the farm, Rita had to cope with nursing Ursula and revealed a warm-hearted side of herself that I had failed to detect before. Ursula, though in constant pain, was more affectionate towards me than ever. Looking back, I think that Ursula had been dominated by Rita in many respects. In the meantime, arrangements had been made for me to move to Van Reemst's big egg-farm in Barneveld. The presence of soldiers in town reminded me that it was war time, of which there had been so little evidence in Kootwijkerbroek.
This farm was huge and possibly the biggest in the area. I was fascinated by the incubator with the many trays, each filled with hundreds of eggs, and sometimes I was lucky enough to witness the cracking of a shell. The chicks were then sold off, but how did he get the eggs? How come, there were none in the shops? He also kept pigs, lots of them! It did not take long to find me near their pens. I would far rather be doing something on the farm, than facing the two teenage daughters who totally ignored me. The farm-hands were more than willing to teach me how to help a sow, when she was about to drop her litter of piglets. They did their best to keep me busy.
When an alarm went off, many of the farm-hands disappeared into thin air. This happened again one afternoon, but this time German soldiers were wandering in. They poked their bayonets into the (hollowed-out) hay-stacks, where I knew some of the farm-hands were hiding. The soldiers left, satisfied. I didn't dare look up, in case they had noticed how scared I was!
The last unfortunate incident had been spreading liquid stable- manure onto the fields. A horse pulled a square box filled to the brim, when a wheel found a hole. I lost my balance, and got a ducking! The water from of the pump outside was freezing cold. I stank for days after! This address was not the right place for me, after all, and also far too expensive. When the train stopped in Kampen, uncle Ab was at the station and greeted me with a big smile. Suddenly I realised how I had missed being hugged!
It was almost like living at home again and be able to enjoy all the things young girls like to do. It was a real privilege, when aunt Kitty fetched me her two precious dolls with a box of clothes for them. They were beauties, with real, long hair and eyes that could close. Henny, who lived a few doors away; adored dolls and we spent many happy hours playing together. Her father had a bakery and, needless to say, I went often to her house, tempted by the wafting smell of baking. Riki, also my age, was the girl next door. Her mother was a widow and made the hats she sold in her shop. We were allowed to make our own creations from the scraps. The three of us had hilarious times together. What a marked contrast between this and delivering a sow! Margreet, my cousin, was a lovely one-year-old and I found it great fun to help my aunt with taking care of her, especially at bath time. She smiled readily.
Kampen was the old town near the mouth of the Yssel that had belonged to the medieval Hanseatic League, a pact which promoted European trade. Uncle Ab often tried to find time to take me on walks along the river and, like my father, he always pointed out something of interest, whether it was shoeing horses or, on this particular day, taking me up the church tower. Every day, at noon, a tune was being played on the carillion. It was surprising that the bells were still there. The chimer showed me that it was similar to playing a piano, except that you had to hit the keys with a fist. He encouraged me to try and indicated the keys I should press. I was thrilled to hear my notes resounding across the town!
Uncle Ab was always singing and you couldn't help but joining in. He had a beautiful tenor voice. I heard him singing duets with a contralto, who had been his teacher and friend for many years. I could have listened for hours-. Since nobody could possibly predict how long the war was going to last, I could not remain here for however long that might be. We were all upset when I left and I was given the promise that I would be more than welcome to return, after the two months' visit of aunt Kitty's mother.
Where next? For a few days to our rented room in Amsterdam! My mother and Hans were staying here for a while with my father. This was like a dream come true! We had riot seen each other, since we had left our home in The Hague, many months ago. No words could describe my happiness! Hans had grown a bit and was chatting all day long. He had a sense of humour and could burst out laughing over little things. My parents seemed happier too. They avoided to travel together, so when my father had to go Heilo to see Opa, I begged him if I could come along. In a way I'd wished, I hadn’t.
Opa and Trijn, just released from being interrogated again, were very upset, because Frits had been taken away by the Gestapo. He had been in the garden when they came to pick him up, in broad daylight. Though I had not been able to follow much of their conversation, I gathered that it was a serious matter. My father was very quiet during the journey back to Amsterdam.
Years later we were to hear more about the details. Willy had cycled up to Heilo to warn Opa about a rumour that an eye was being kept on his house and to suggest taking Frits to the nearby cloister. It could not have been easy, especially for Trijn, a one-time matron, or for a man like Opa, to follow advice from a self-assured girl of nineteen, but they agreed to send him there the following day, unaware of how close the enemy was. Although his whereabouts were known (Westerbork), efforts to rescue him failed. His final destination was Auschwitz; a four-year old and all alone.... Who betrayed him has never been found out.
The reality of war had, once again, left its indelible mark on many people.
ZEIST
Once again, I was put on the carrier of Willy's bike to yet another destination. was going to meet a surprise, she said, as long as I didn't ask any questions.
To make the ride more comfortable, I had a little cushion to sit on and I could put my feet on the foot-props. Willy's back provided me with some shelter, but also restricted my front-view. With my hands firmly tucked into her waistband, my arms followed her swaying body pushing hard against the wind. Of course, we had stopped a few times on the way, but I was very glad when this long journey of about sixty km, from Amsterdam to De Bilt had come to an end. She put her bike against a high wall and opened a gate which led into the garden of a white-washed house. I was sure she had been here before! What a surprise! Mrs. Arks, the mother, came to meet us followed by her two sons and Wim!! Wim had heard about my predicament and through contacts with local friends, he knew about a children's home in Zeist that might be just the place for me. He had asked them to make the arrangements. It was only about ten km away and the knowledge that he, Wim, was close by would certainly help me to settle. lt was obvious that Willy and Wim, as well as my father, had been in regular contact with each other. Zeist was a residential town on the edge of an extensive wooded part of Holland. The Slotlaan, the main avenue, finished at the gates of 'Het Slot', a historic castle, which was occupied by the Germans and guarded by armed sentries. On either side of the Slotlaan, just before getting to the castle-grounds, were two big squares. One was called Sister-square, where the church, the school and the homes were for the retired missionaries. The Kinderheim was opposite this, on Brother-square. Both were looked after by the Hernhutters'community. Zeist was the centre of the Hernhutters, a Christian sect, which had its origin in Bohemia and was, above all, noted for their missionary work, mainly in Africa.
Willy and I were welcomed in the main room of this multi-storey house, where a few small children were playing on the floor. Surely, these were not all of them? Before Willy had to leave, Sister Han (Stan) and sister Tine (Stine) gave us a guided tour through the house. Stan, grey-haired and slim, seemed the friendlier of the two and was in charge. Stine was the complete opposite, with dark, short, hair, well-built and robust. She took us first to the kitchen and the dining-room in the basement, which was no surprise as she was the cook, at the same time explaining the high cleaning standards she demanded from the group of children who were delegated to this job. "You will find out soon enough, how we work here together as a team", Stan added. Hearing the noise from the rest of the children who had just come home, we went upstairs to meet them. This was the moment when Willy decided that it was time for her to leave. Besides, Wim had asked her to call in and see him again on her way back to Amsterdam. After all, his knowledge about the home had been 'hearsay' from other people, therefore he insisted on getting a first-hand opinion from Willy.
I kept on waving, even after she had disappeared out of sight. I had never felt so lonely and deserted. Maybe the idea of a children's home created a sense of vulnerability in me? One of the reasons for the sporadic contacts with the family had been due to the distances between us. At least Wim was living nearby and, although he was in hiding and restricted in his movements, he could see the same clouds in the sky as I did, which was a comforting thought whenever I was upset.
How I yearned for the war to end! Stan took me by the hand and opened the door of the large living-room. The noise changed abruptly into a deadly hush. Many pairs of eyes were looking at me in surprise - apparently new-comers were rare! After Stan had introduced me, everybody started to talk at once and bombarded me with questions. Firstly, they were interested, (or worried) which bed I would sleep in. Asking about families was discouraged, which pleased me. They were mostly children whose parents were missionaries abroad and contacts were broken off, because of the war.
There were only four young boys and twelve girls of various ages, of whom Elly, the eldest at seventeen, had the same authority as the assistants, Mia, Dini and Nell. I felt bewildered and had not much to say. In fact, we were weighing each other up, but when they noticed how horrified I looked when they mentioned school, I met with their sympathy! School! Nobody had even hinted at that possibility! Fortunately it was holiday time, thus I could concentrate on the house-rules first. I shared a dormitory with four, rather nice, girls, who showed me how I had to fold my clothes at bedtime. I was exhausted and could easily have stayed in bed, when the gong woke us at 7 a.m. the following morning. The order of the day went according to a strict, almost military, regime. We had to strip to the waist and wash the top-half with cold water and then queue up to be checked that you were wet all over, before you were allowed to dry yourself. After you had made your bed, making sure no wrinkles were showing, you were sent down stairs. One by one we entered the dining room and when all of us were present, we could start our breakfast, a slice of bread with a glass of milk. Everybody was given a daily task. Those in charge of the basement stayed behind, while the rest of us spread out to different parts of the house carrying brooms, buckets and dusters.
I had to help with cleaning the basins and the toilets, the least fancied job of all! The rota changed every two weeks. A close eye was being kept on the one who excelled and, as a result, was then rewarded with privileged jobs, one of which was the honour to clean the rooms of the staff. In the course of time, I actually managed the top job: making Stan's bed! Holiday or not, everything had to be finished by 8.45 to fit in with school hours.
On Sundays we all went to the church on Sister Square, a white building with a very plain white interior, not even stained-glass windows for me to look at.
All the women sat together, wearing a lace cap (Haube) tied under the chin with a ribbon. Ours being pink, like all the un-married, blue for the married and white was worn by the widows. The service was held entirely in German of which I didn't understand a word. I always loved the singing, but only a few tunes were familiar to me and, because I could not read German, I was bored and glad to be outside again. A group of local children were passing by and stopped to watch us on our way home, intrigued, because to them we seemed to be a weird lot. They never missed an opportunity to quiz us about what went on in the home. Whenever we played outside, you could be sure some of them would try and join in. We were warned, no threatened, not to divulge anything, not even a simple question about what we ate for dinner. On the whole they were not too bad, except that the boys could be very cruel
to the frogs they found in great number on the square. One of the reasons we didn't want much to do with them.
I had been fully accepted by our girls, who were excellent at inventing games, which helped when we were supposed to play outside between 2 and 4 in the afternoons, whatever the weather. Nell was always busy with washing and ironing, but Mia and Dini took us on regular walks to the woods instead, where we were able to roam freely amongst the trees, where we could shout as loudly as we wanted and run about like wild animals. Mia always tolerated our behaviour with a smile. She gladly shared her extensive knowledge of edible mushrooms with us, which we picked and then enjoyed them at meal- time. We also collected plenty of dry sticks to keep the cooker in the kitchen going.
During the evenings we would assemble in the living room, for reading, games or needle-work, like mending. No noise, of course, and early to bed!
I had a cautious respect for Stan, but I was afraid of Stine, who looked fierce and easily lost her temper. She had a cast in her eye and you never knew, if it was you she was looking at. One day, during breakfast, Henk, one of the small boys she often picked on, irritated her for some reason. She grabbed the biscuit tin and kept on hitting him on his-head with it. Nobody moved a muscle, not even Stan. We were stunned. To relieve the tension, we were taken up into the loft to choose clothes for the new season. Excitedly, we rummaged through the enormous trunks filled with dresses of all sizes, hoping the chosen one would fit. I managed to claim the dress I liked, particularly for the half-round, green apron that went with it. All the clothes had been donated by charities and few dresses were the same. It was less difficult for the boys to make a choice, because they wore mostly sailor-suits and there were plenty available. Happily clutching our new outfits, we lined up to go down the narrow ladder. The attic was out of bounds, except for occasions like these. I had a good look around and was not only amazed at the size of it, but above all impressed with the vast quantity of stored food. Besides sacks of potatoes, apples and lentils, I saw sugar, jams and honey. At least we would not have to starve! Funnily enough, the food was never mentioned. Neither was the war. By now it was the beginning of June 1944. Although I could not put my finger on it, I noticed that something was afoot. Even the people seemed different.
Recently, the activities of the Germans had increased and huge convoys were often on the move. There were also far more Spitfires about than ever before. One day, a number of trucks with armed soldiers passed us on our walk, being pursued by two Spitfires. They flew so low that we could see the pilot's face. The Germans abandoned their vehicles in a frantic hurry and jumped into the ditch, close to the bank. They stood all in a line, up to their necks in water, with just their helmets visible. If it had not been for the shooting, which frightened us, we would have laughed! We loved to see the Germans being scared off by the 'English Tommies'.
Nobody really knew much about the occupants of the castle, except that they were Germans. Who lived there and why? Was there more to it than that? It came as no surprise that the castle had been made a target. When the siren went, we all fled into the basement. The home shook and the flashes were blinding. Some of our windows upstairs were shattered and left the floors covered in glass. After the 'all clear' we had to wait until everything had been cleaned up before we could go back to bed, still shivering with a mixture of fear and being cold. The castle had received little damage and was quickly restored. Unfortunately, it was not possible for us to obtain glass for our windows!
AMSTERDAM '44/'45
The winter had made its entree with a vengeance and much earlier than usual. When I woke up I noticed the inside of the windows covered with patterns of pretty frost-flowers, which meant that it was bitterly cold outside. Willy had come to Vreeland to take me to Amsterdam. We would definitely have travelled by train, if they had still been running. Neither Willy nor I was looking forward to a journey by bike in this weather and hopefully this would be my last long jaunt on the back of one. The Mulders were quite concerned. After hugs all around, they double-checked that I was well covered up with even my head wrapped in a scarf, leaving just a slit for my eyes. My hands and feet felt like blocks of ice when, after several hours, we finally arrived at Willy's rented room in the Johannes Verhulststraat, where I was going to be with my mother and Hans.
Willy was cold and tired and decided to go straight home to the Uitweg, to Aunt Elisabeth's home, where she was staying at present. It was also the only safe place to keep the bike and besides, she had to be in before the curfew.
I had been here only once before on a very short visit. All I remembered was that the Joh. Verhulststraat had a long row of beautiful big trees in the middle of a wide road. I was overjoyed to be re-united with the family and I couldn't wait to run up the stone steps. Mr. and Mrs. Stoffels had already seen us and opened the front door before I had a chance to ring the bell. I dashed up the stairs to our room at the back on the second floor to surprise my mother and Hans. I was home! We had a lot to talk about, but once I had warmed up it didn't take me long to fall asleep in one of our own beds. Whatever the outside world, this room with its familiar furniture was our sanctuary! The Stoffels, who owned this old multi-storey house, lived on the first floor. All the other rooms were let, including the basement. Once or twice, we passed the occupants of the front room, but we never saw the others. Our room looked out on the large back gardens of the houses around us and where, at regular intervals, a tree was being chopped down for fire-wood. Since the 9th of October, North-Holland had been the first province without electricity and a few days later the gas was disconnected too. People had to resort to emergency stoves. Ours was a majo, which looked like a large coffee tin with a small opening to draw the draught and it would only burn very small pieces of dry wood. It was placed on the original stove for safety. My mother never got the hang of it and would rather leave it to my father. It was quite an art. It needed continual blowing into the vent to keep it alight. However, since the rations had been reduced drastically and the food became so scarce, there was little use for the majo, except for boiling water.
A few weeks later I was well enough to join the family in Amsterdam. Except for Wim, we all lived near to each other again.
It was not until after the war when we heard about the raid on the cottage in de Silt, where Wim lived. It had been surrounded by the SS., but Wim was lucky to have been able to escape through the toilet window into a corn-field behind the house. Among the arrested were his friends, the boys Arks. So far, Holland had endured the occupation for well over four years. After the Battle of Britain, the Germans had focussed their attention on Eastern Europe, having given up on England for the time being. When and where were they going to stop? That was the question.
The Germans controlled the news-papers and their successes made big head lines and were also blurted out on the radio. To them it was a morale-booster; to the Dutch it was worrying. The Resistance had issued _and circulated two illegal news papers, Trouw and Parool, in order to report a more honest and realistic version of events. Printing and even delivering the papers was a dangerous undertaking. Also the BBC news was indispensable and was received secretly by a hidden and often cleverly-concealed radio. Both, the papers and the BBC, were vital contributions to reassure the nation and give them hope. The German news never reported their defeats and certainly said nothing about the successes of the Allies who, we hoped, were on their way to help us.
After North-Africa and southern Europe, came Normandy on June 6th.'44. Although still a long way away, the liberation of Western Europe had begun. First Paris, followed by Brussels and finally, by September 3rd, the southern part of Holland was free. The Germans seemed defeated and fled north. There was such a quick succession of events that the news was scanty and · even the BBC got confused. In Rotterdam it was mentioned that Breda had been liberated and the people in The Hague were waiting for the arrival of the British troops. The whole of the population was deliriously happy. Even the Dutch flag appeared in places, which was strictly forbidden. The Germans and NSB members loaded their (stolen) cars and bikes and fled towards Germany. Alas, the rumours turned out to be false! Therefore, September 5th became known as Dolle Dinsdag! (Mad Tuesday)
There were obstacles. Crossing the bridges over the river Rhine proved impossible. The advance had to be halted, giving the Germans the opportunity to tighten their grip on the north of Holland. At last, I understood the reason why the evacuees had come to Zeist! The trains stopped running on September 15th. The Dutch Government in London had advised the railway-personnel to strike and to go into hiding, but not before putting the trains out of action first.
In retaliation, the Germans stopped all alternative food-transport. Consequently, the west of Holland, north of the big rivers, was facing the last winter of the war under the worst circumstances imaginable! We braced ourselves for this period in Amsterdam.
Usually we could find one who pitied us and donated about half a litre. Not much, but as long as we collected enough for the baby! We always tried several farms for more milk for ourselves as well, often without much luck. Whilst on one of my rounds, it was snowing hard with that horrible pack-snow, which quickly stuck to our clogs. When we hobbled past the castle, the guard on duty offered to remove the snow with his bayonet and even gave us a biscuit! If only we had not mentioned it to anybody when we got home, we would not have had that spanking!
How we all loathed having to play outside every day, even in cold weather. If only there had been some snow, we could have built snow-men; otherwise there was little else for us to do. Hans, in particular, suffered in his thin summer-coat. He also complained about his feet hurting and, for that reason, he could only wear Wellingtons and thin socks. We sympathised with him. Most of us suffered with painful chilblains, which were treated by putting our toes into a chamber-pot with (our own) freshly-produced urine! One day, when Hans could not possibly face being outside again, he decided to hide. He thought he'd be better off in the loo instead.
He almost got away with it, if it had not been for one of the boys who told on him. Hans had to pay dearly for this! It must have been agony for him to be sent out immediately, on his own, and walk around the square for an hour. He looked so lost! How I hated the kids that were laughing at him from behind the window. It was dark when he came back in and yet again I was prevented to console him.
It was towards the end of 1944 when my mother paid us a surprise visit, still wearing her terracotta dress! She had cycled all the way from Amsterdam on her bike without the tyres, one way of preventing the Germans to confiscate it. The first thing Hans did was to show my mother his feet. She was horrified. The staff tried to assure her that 'all will be better by the time spring is here'. My mother was being put up for the night in the attic, but her mind was already made up, whatever the consequences. The staff was furious when, the next morning, she told them that she was taking Hans away with her. They informed her that, in that case, I must leave too. My life was made far from easy during the weeks I had to wait for Willy to collect me. Meantime, a solution had to be found at short notice for Hans and myself. On their way back to Amsterdam, my mother stopped in the Bilt to call on Wim who, after seeing Hans' feet, asked Mrs. Arks to arrange an appointment with the doctor. He diagnosed frost-bite and advised that, on no account, was Hans to walk on them and to seek medical advice as soon as they got home. I was counting the days for Willy to arrive to take me to wherever. Anywhere would be better than here! I was desperately unhappy since Hans had left.
Half-way, between Zeist and Amsterdam, was Vreeland. The initial address my father had stayed at was always available to be used as an occasional hide-out for either Willy or my parents. Now it was my turn to be there. Mr. and Mrs. Mulder made me feel at home straight away. I was pleased with the warm house and to see their large, well-stocked kitchen-garden. However, I was under-nourished to such an extent, that I was only allowed to eat a little and often, a table-spoonful to start with. Gradually the portions were increased to normal amounts. The house was next door to a farm and I soon got to know the farmer's wife, who was well-built and cheerful. I enjoyed feeding the animals for her. She was determined to play her part in my recovery and suggested that I should come every morning to be fattened up with proper cream, as long as I didn't tell the Mulders! Anyway, it had no ill-effects and I have loved cream ever since...
We were getting worried about the reduction of our food-rations. The next few weeks would be the ideal time for harvesting the produce a forest can provide. To supplement our rations we made daily treks, carrying an array of containers, as well as pulling a cart to transport the wood. The youngest ones loved having a ride in it on the way there; otherwise the journey would surely have been too tiring for them.
It proved to be a good year for mushrooms and we collected baskets full of different kinds, thanks to Mia. Berries were plentiful and were squeezed and then sieved. If sugar had been available the juice would have tasted nicer. We spread the pulp on our dry slice of grey bread, which made a change from the usual tomato ketchup.
One day, when the weather was unsuitable for the woods, we had to make do with playing on the square. We had discovered an orchard covered with fallen apples and we stuffed, as many as we could, under. our clothes and hid them when we got home. Would you believe it! The owner came to complain about his loss and the police was called in. If it were ever to happen again, we would go to prison!
For punishment I lost my privileged job of making Stan's bed and got transferred to cleaning the dining-room on my own for at least a month. Placed on top of a small stool, in a recess of one of the walls, was the dog's feeding-bowl. Later on, when I really started to feel very hungry, I could not resist the temptation. His food was much better than ours. I licked some of it like a dog, so it could not be detected. Where did the potatoes and the beans come from? Or could it have been the leftovers from a staff's dinner, after we had gone to bed? Nobody seemed to pay much attention to the dog's food and I had learned to keep my mouth shut. When we had gone up into the attic again for warmer clothes, it was noticed that a lot of the stored food had disappeared and somebody commented on it. The 'hungry' evacuees were blamed.... The branches were arched by the weight of the heavy crop of elderberries and feeling hungry, we promptly took the opportunity to eat them there and then.
We never found out, if it had been the berries, or indeed an outbreak of the widespread dysentery why we were so ill and many of us, including Hans, had ended up in the sick-room. The doctor prescribed Norit, a dry, black powder, three times a day a tablespoon, washed down with water. It made us choke! How on earth could they have been so cruel to Hans, who had accidentally soiled his bed, to make him wash his sheets in the sink with that icy-cold water! I tried to help him, which was refused and I was sent back to bed. They told me that he had to be taught a lesson! The winter had arrived and with no central heating in those days, you often felt inside as cold as being outside, especially upstairs with make-do windows. We all felt sorry for the latest arrival, a small baby that cried all day long. This presented a big problem. She needed milk and there wasn't any! We had all gathered in the living room to see who could come up with an idea how to obtain milk. We loved being involved. The solution was quite simple really and by asking us, they could bank on our full cooperation. It was pointed out that it was not just a project for a week or so, but maybe for months of going daily to the nearby farms.
We all agreed and for everybody older than 11; a rota was drawn up for groups of two. That worked out at about once a week. This meant getting up at 5 a.m. to arrive at the farms at milking-time. Though some of the farmers refused.
Back home again from our frequent walks to the woods, I was told to report to the office to see Stan. This sounded so formal, that everybody wondered what it could be about. Usually messages were given in passing. To be called to the office was only for serious matters. With a heavy heart I knocked on the door. Stan was sitting behind her desk and told me to take a seat. She informed me that my father was coming to visit me, together with my mother and Hans! I could not believe my ears. Stan had a lot more to add, but I did not listen to the rest. All I heard was that Hans was coming to stay here, with me. Then she mentioned something about responsibility and though he was my little brother, I should not pamper him, etc. l could not care less about that. I was too delighted! Hans had great difficulty in accepting his and my parents' new surname of Swaagman. Therefore, it was considered the best option for all concerned that Hans should join me in this relatively safe environment.
My mother and Hans had never been apart for longer than a day. Now she had to leave him behind and nobody could predict for how long. On their homeward journey my father had planned a big surprise for my mother. Ever since Wim had left, in 1942, she assumed that he was still in Germany. I can't begin to imagine, how
my mother must have felt when she finally met up with Wim again, that he was alive, that she could touch him! Wim, also very happy, smiled at my father while hugging my mother. At last, she was let into the secret of his whereabouts. It did not lessen her anxiety, but this was better than Germany. Hans was not quite five years old. He looked so helpless after our parents had left. The first few days I was allowed to be protective towards him, but all too soon I was given silly tasks to do, in order to make Hans less dependent on me and force him to find his own way.
Regular testing for 'immediate obedience' was one of the priorities. At the most inconvenient times an order would be given and you'd better not hesitate! It was supposed to be for our own safety - it was war after all. Poor Hans. He was in trouble! He would always do as he was told, but, alas, not quickly enough to their liking. Whenever I tried to defend him, I got a severe telling-off. That made me very unhappy. AU in all Hans and I were able to visit Wim twice during our stay in Zeist and since we had so much fun with him, it never entered our heads to talk about the home.
September 1944. We were not informed about what was happening in the outside world, we could but observe. We noticed the night flying of heavy bombers high overhead. We heard that the trains had stopped running altogether and that evacuees were being put up regularly for the night in the attic, but not where they came from or were heading for.
The school had already been reduced to only two days a week for quite some time and since the bombardment also caused damage to the school-building and the summer holidays were not far off, the decision was taken to close. Anyway, I don't think the few weeks I attended the lessons added much to my education. We were being taught by the old missionaries in small classes of about five or six pupils, hence no chance to step out of line. Maybe that is the reason why the only thing I remember is a prank. The teacher had mentioned her fear of frogs; therefore, one of the girls released one in the class-room to try her out. The teacher screamed and jumped onto a chair. The girl realized her stupidity and although she was sorry, she got expelled. Soon afterwards we were all at home, because our school was being closed for good!
The room in the Johannes Verhulststraat was mainly used by Willy or my parents for an occasional break. As a rule, they all lived together at Aunt Elisabeth's and as from now, I was going to stay there as well. It was a long way, much too far for Hans, whose feet had not quite healed up yet, so my father decided to collect him. With each trip you always ran the risk that your bike might be confiscated, especially in the city, but Hans' feet could give him a valid excuse, in case he was being stopped. Besides, a bike without tyres was less in demand.
Not so long ago, the city-tram would have taken us as far as Sloterdijk, a small village on the fringe of Amsterdam-West, but since the electricity cut and people making off with the sleepers for fuel, no more trams meant that my mother and I had to go on foot. Fortunately we were good walkers. We had so much to talk about on the way that I was not aware of either distance or time. My mother told me that Annamie was back - I didn't know she had been away! My aunt thought, her daughter would get better fed if she went to stay with an uncle in Bergen, but she was home-sick and had returned a week later. Good, otherwise I would have been without her company. We were about the same age and we got on very well together. I heard about their fun on St. Nicholas' Eve, albeit without the usual goodies. Nothing could possibly have broken the tradition of writing poems, even without any presents. However, there was a surprise! A bunch of carrots each! A pity, I had missed all this, as I was still in Vreeland.
Before I realized, we had reached Sloterdijk and the end of the built-up area. My heart sank!! Ahead of us was an enormous expanse of sky, right down to the horizon, covering a never-ending, flat landscape of empty fields and a few isolated farms! How much further? Where was the house? We kept following the main road alongside the Haarlemmer Trekvaart, the oldest canal in Holland, until we came to a windmill where we turned left into a narrow road, appropriately called, the Uitweg (the Road to Nowhere).
At last we could see the house, about another half a mile away. Before the schools closed down, my cousins had to walk this distance every day in all weathers. I could not believe that it took them only half an hour.
It was the only house in the Uitweg, standing all by itself. The nearest neighbour was a farm a bit up the road. We crossed the hump-bridge, past the large willow-tree by the side of it, towards the front door. It was a big place. It had to be, because we were now with thirteen! Five of us, five of Aunt Elisabeth's and three more 'lodgers'. I knew about John, Fred's brother, age-wise between Hans and Wim, my other cousin. On the way my mother had told me about tante Hans, who apparently was an excellent cook and old Opa Johannes. And he was old! When I met him, he was fast asleep in a chair with a hanky over his thin face and a cap on his head. He was annoyed when we poked fun at him, but we resented having to be quiet for so long. I didn't know at the time that they were Jews in hiding.
There had been no point in objecting when a decree was issued to billet twelve German soldiers in the attic. After a few weeks, the men convinced their commander that the house was too over-crowded and got him to agree that the soldiers could move into the shed instead, provided they had free access to the bathroom. This was a much better arrangement under the circumstances! The family's big advantage was a 50 cm. metal pipe, the 'gas-bell', suspended in the willow tree. This indicated the presence of Germans and therefore, when a raid took place, this house was left alone. We were safe in the lion's den!
Just as well I was warned that I might suddenly bump into a soldier on the stairs or in the kitchen. The first time it happened I felt ill at ease; they carried a gun everywhere, even to the bathroom! We didn't really meet them very often.
All day and every night the continuous drone of heavy bombers on their way to Germany was a reminder of war-time. During the day we saw them coming over in large formations. (Americans by day and British by "night) Across this part of Holland they tried to fly high enough not to get within the reach of anti-aircraft guns. If a plane had been damaged during their mission and was trying to return to Britain, it wa-s an easier target fo be shot down, even using rifles! In case one crashed, Germans and Resistance alike would be on the look-out for a baled-out pilot. It was essential to get rid of his parachute first, so he stood a better chance to be rescued. At night the sky was lit up by search-beams. When an aircraft was pin-pointed inside two or more crossing beams, a strong battery came into action, but they were still flying fairly high. We had a good view from the attic-window! It was as if they played the game: Catch me, if you can!
Although without heat, we lived in a nice, big house and had plenty to do. Before all else, each day somebody had to go to the farm across the road and buy a litre of milk. I didn't like it when it was my turn, because of the rats. I was petrified of them. They scattered in all directions as soon as I opened the back door. Whenever I had to cross the bridge towards the house, I would first pick up a stone and throw it on the path along the side of the house, to make sure they had gone. I wondered if they lived in the ditches or in the shed?!
My cousins had their daily music practice. Annamie played the violin and Sep the piano, like my aunt, whose ambition it was to form a trio when, in a year's time, Wirn should be old enough to take up the cello. The teacher, who came once a week, was difficult to please and the lessons invariable ended in tears. I felt sorry for them. It was lovely when they played pieces together since we all liked hearing the sound of music.
Uncle Arie, who was in the merchant navy, liked to tinker with the radio, constantly trying to improve the reception of the receiver, which was hidden behind a switch in their bedroom. He had devised a method to supply electricity with a bicycle dynarno. When it was time for a BBC broadcast we took it in turns to pedal the (upside-down) bike, whilst the others were on the look-out to give a signal in case a German needed the bathroom.
The banister got polished so often, it could function as a mirror!
We all lived in harmony together, trying hard to avoid misunderstandings. My uncle could be very grumpy at times. By a stroke of luck, he happened to be on leave when the war broke out. He missed being at sea on his ship, but most of all he missed his tobacco. He even tried smoking dried oak-leaves! It cheered him up no end, when he and my father went scouring the neighbourhood for pieces of wood for the cooker. They enjoyed thinking up useful projects together. The low-lying garden was most unsuitable for growing vegetables, even if seeds had been available. It was quite boggy; hence the idea of peat-cutting was worth a try! It might have worked, if they had found a way of drying out the blocks, which was difficult in the middle of winter! Another time they were planning how to build a sort of kiln in the garden for baking bread, but first someone had to go out and try to get hold of some grain. The manual coffee-mill had proved to be an ideal item for grinding.
The food situation had gone from bad to worse. Most people looked gaunt and many started to die of hunger. We were not the only ones calling on farmers. They received an ever-increasing number of people asking for food and some of the farmers got fed up. Most wanted a lot of money, while others preferred goods, like linen or jewellery. You do anything when you are hungry!
So now and then Willy and Aunt Elisabeth went together and it could take them all day to cycle from one farm to the next. Each time they had to go further and further a field. They were only too happy to return with a small amount of potatoes and a little bag of grain. When my aunt started to feel unwell, uncle Arie helped out. My mother felt it as her duty to do her share and travelled as far as the farms across the big rivers. After all, they were not occupied anymore, so finding food might be a bit easier. Passing the German guards on the bridge presented no problems, they knew she would return. She managed to fill her bike's carrier-bags, but on her way back was searched by the guards and all her arduously gathered food got confiscated.
When my mother arrived home, empty-handed, she cried. Feeding a large family like ours was no easy task! Our piano in the Verhulststraat was sold to the farmer opposite. He was so pleased, that he made sure we were a little better off for milk and occasionally we got a few eggs. The milk for the soldiers was delivered every day and put on the work-top in the kitchen, a jug for each of them. It was as tempting for us as it was for the Prussian, minor aristocrat, Freiherr Von Sietzowitz. He jumped out of his skin when my aunt caught him spooning the cream from the others' jugs into his own. Only the day before, when he swept a path, had she told him that a broom was for sweeping not caressing a pretty girl! He grinned and didn't argue.
When it was bitterly cold, we would share our beds and stay there all day, draping a blanket around our shoulders. We played games or read a book. Willy took the opportunity to study for her short-hand exams. The adults would take turns to get up and make us all something to eat. The sweet and sickly smell of sugar-beets would
waft through to the upstairs.
After the horrors of Kristal! Nacht in 1938, tante Hans had fled from Nazi Germany and taken refuge with one of her relatives in Amsterdam, where she should be safe, or so she thought. When the persecution of Jews also started to take place in, meanwhile occupied, Holland, her relatives had to go into hiding and thus tante Hans ended up at aunt Elisabeth's as one of the family. We all loved this motherly, chubby lady in her 50's, who spoke Dutch with a strong German accent. She joined in with everything, but took charge of the cooking. It was remarkable what she was able to concoct with so very few provisions. Food was everybody's main topic of conversation when meeting with friends or neighbours, always happy to suggest some different ways of preparing anything from tulip-bulbs to stinging nettles. Instead of potatoes we had sugar-beets and however difficult it was to vary, either diced or mashed, they were still sugar-beets, which made poor Hans cry at every meal-time. Nobody liked to eat cattle fodder by choice, except when starving-hungry!
In the mornings everybody had to fulfil a task in Jl)e house, necessary or not. I could not see the point to polish furniture again when it had already been done the previous day, but the main purpose was to keep us busy and warm. Tante Hans
was about to hang the washing on the line, when this arrogant, young German officer - -
showed up. Only a few weeks ago he had scared everyone when he boasted that he was an expert in rounding up Jews and people in hiding. While she was pegging out the sanitary towels, he tried to be funny by asking her what they were. 'You mean, the caps for the cookery-school?' she retorted, sharply. With this, he had overstepped the mark and broken the billet's code of conduct. Being indiscreet was not tolerated and after lodging a complaint, he got posted elsewhere. We (and the soldiers) gave a sigh of relief to be rid of him at last. The rest of the others were less convinced of winning the war and behaved more amiably. They liked to talk about their families 'bei uns zu Hause' and Bauer spoke mostly of his concern about his farm's future in Bavaria, since his two sons were fighting with the army. I could not understand all they said, but when he was told that both had been killed, he cried bitterly. He threw his gun away and screamed, cursing Hitler for causing nothing but death and destruction. That needed no translation!
As daytime offered our best available light, the afternoons were the ideal opportunity for reading. It did not take tong before many were absorbed in a book and downstairs felt silent. The boys often went upstairs to play, Old Opa Johannes had his face under his hanky, as usual, and before anything else, my aunt would nod off for her regular (exactly!) twenty minutes. On one of the tables was a jigsaw puzzle, at hand all the time and whoever fancied to add a bit, could assist tante Hans, who loved to do puzzles. So did I! Just before dusk, Aunt Elisabeth would play a few piano-duets with Sep, or she played well-known songs so we could join in. Uncle Arie was good at telling, increasingly better, stories about far-away lands and his sea faring life. Fascinating! but really true?? We spent the evenings playing games by the dim light of improvised oil-lamps, a couple of water-filled jam-jars, with a wick on a layer of oil - Monopoly was the best. However, my father and Bep often plotted together to rob the bank and it was difficult to catch them out, because every game they tried a different system. It was not always as funny as it was meant to be!
Once in a while, weather permitted, we walked to the centre of Amsterdam where it was now very quiet, no more screeching of trams, fairly empty streets and the German vehicles being the only traffic. My father and my aunt knew a lot of the history and they guided us along with interesting stories about buildings and famous people, which also appealed to us younger ones. When my father noticed we were flagging a little, he would say, "One more, just around that corner." Somehow, he managed to take a route that led us on the way home. We also got more used to walking the distance to the Verhulststraat. My mother and I were spending a couple of nights there when, by chance, we met up with Willy. We knew nothing about her, her movements or what she was up to. She merely called in on her way back to the Uitweg.
Since the end of January, the Germans had to allow the ships with grain and margarine from the Swedish Red Cross to dock in Holland, the bakeries to be supplied with electricity and the bread to be distributed among the shops in the city. With our coupons, Willy and I queued for hours for one loaf. We were in luck, but many had to go home without. I insisted that I carried it! It was pure white and tasted like cake!! The same day my mother got hold of two live eels! Unfortunately, when she tried to rinse them in the basin, they wriggled, found the plug-hole and escaped! I could not stop laughing. However hungry we might have been, eels put me off. The same, when my parents and I once had a meal with friends who served up meat, an unknown luxury. Many different animals were caught for food, but a cat was too much for me to swallow!
Aunt Elisabeth fell ill. The sores on her neck and legs, of a tubercular nature, got infected, causing open ulcers. The doctor ordered her to stay in bed and have plenty of milk and butter. From her bed in the living-room she could keep a watchful eye on what was going on around her. The farmer kindly supplied some extra milk, which she churned into butter in a small churn on her lap. There was such a shortage of everything. Soap, which did not lather and we called, air-soap. Pans were scoured with sand. Ersatz coffee, which was a warm drink, if nothing else. The water had been cut back to an hour a day. We had extra, because of the German 'guests', but who would take a bath in cold water! The sewing-machine in the attic
was in constant use. Dresses were unpicked and combined to create new ones. We were growing 1n all directions and the h1ana-me-downs were exhausted. Jumpers
were unravelled and the wool was washed and wound around a plank to stretch the thread and knitted up again. Aunt Elisabeth was kept fully occupied. Shoes were another problem. First the toes were cut off the upper part, but when your big toe started to stick out too far, your own design of wooden soles with webbing across, worked fairly well. In spite of thirteen hungry people living with fear and being deprived of so many essentials, as well as a war that did not seem to come to an end, we continued to live happily together. We learnt to be tolerant and to have a sense of humour. Since hunger had turned into starvation, a state of emergency had been declared. Something needed to be done soon! We tried our hardest to remain optimistic. It was almost April. At least the weather was improving and there were days we could go outside to play. Annamie and I would lay a purse in the middle of the road, attached to a thin thread and hide in the long grass. The moment somebody tried to pick it up, we pulled the string. It produced many laughs! We also tried out home-made nets on pond-dipping in the ditches.
-My father started to complain about stomach pains and when the colour drained from his face, we knew it really hurt and he should see a doctor. Who could be trusted enough to register with? Having a price on his head, he thought it too risky and decided to retreat to the Verhulststraat instead, where he took to his bed. I went along to help my mother. One day when she couldn't get the majo to work, my father crawled across the floor to help her. I was worried and talked to Mrs. Stoffels. She persuaded him to see her doctor, 'who is one of us'. He was kind and when he said, 'I have my own private clinic and I'll admit you now, for six weeks', we were relieved. He was in the right place and not far away from the room where we both stayed put, so we could visit him.
A feeling of restlessness hung in the air. Was something about to happen? News from London was a direct contradiction of the papers. The Germans began to doubt and most wanted to go home, others became more fanatical. Raids never ceased and one early morning our street was cordoned off by armed guards and house-to-house checks were made. We were petrified when they entered our house, banging and shouting with those horrible voices. We kept very quiet, trembling like a leaf. One young soldier just poked his head around our door and left. Afterwards we saw several people being driven off in trucks.
April 29th. Today we had all gathered in the Uitweg to witness a miracle. The Germans had been forced to allow the British to drop food-parcels on pre-arranged locations. We hoped to get a good view from the window in the attic. The planes flew over slowly and very low with their bellies open! We jumped up and down wit-h excitement and a few tears were shed. This was the first of many deliveries of Operation Manna. The strong tins withstood the impact. They were collected before being allocated fairly. The contents were delicious, especially the egg-powder and the chocolate. As a token of thanks to the pilots, people spread the Dutch flag on their flat roofs, well out of sight from Germans.
May 4th. Back in our room, we were already in bed, when Mr Stoffels knocked on the door and blurted out that the peace- treaty was going to be signed at 8 am! Everyone got up and the couple in the front room invited us to look out of their window. We heard that a great number of students had been in hiding nearby and not been outside for years. Some could not wait and ignoring the curfew, ran into the street. Sadly, two were shot by a German on patrol.
May 5th 1945. The war was over and Holland was free! Our first thoughts were with my father and at 9 o'clock my mother and I stood on the doorstep of the clinic. It was too early and they refused to let us see him.
Everywhere people were dancing, embracing strangers and singing the national anthem. On the way to the Uitweg we met trucks full with disarmed soldiers, looking glum. Now it was their turn to be driven away! With great satisfaction, the yellow, German signposts were kicked down and wrapped in orange paper to be taken home for burning. From every house the flag was flying again, a mass of red, white and blue and with orange pennants. We had dyed sheets orange and they were made into dresses to wear to the city. I was very proud of my parachute-silk dress I had acquired from somewhere. We did not want to miss any of the festivities. De Dam has always been the heart of Amsterdam where the population congregates. We stood like sardines in a tin among pale, thin, but elated people. When the Canadian tanks arrived, covered with girls and flowers, the cheers were deafening. Suddenly shots were fired from a roof, where a few Germans were still present. The tanks closed immediately and we all fled into side-streets. It was a terrifying experience! The next day we watched a British parade and the Scots played the bag-pipes. They looked wonderful. We were told they didn't wear anything underneath their kilts, so we made sure we sat on the curb....Still none the wiser! Around every soldier was a crowd, kissing them and begging cigarettes. When I offered one a piece of my chocolate as a thank you, he gave me a packet of Lucky Strike, which infuriated the adults, but pleased my uncle!
The B.S., the Forces of the Interior, were rounding up members of the NSB. Girls, who had associated with Germans, were dragged into the street, tied to a chair to get their heads shaved and painted with red-lead. Hate without mercy!
Three weeks after the liberation, my father was discharged from hospital. He immediately made contact with the housing-department of the B.S. Our house was occupied by two families, but they promised to find us another one. We were put on the waiting-list. Meantime Willy had moved to Paleis Het Loo. She was one of 200 resistance workers invited by Queen Wilhelmina, to spend some time to recuperate in her palace. Willy never talked about her activities. Once, about 50 years later, did she mention a visit to Amersfoort prison, when she was part of a group posing as Germans, to get somebody out of there! We were allocated a house that had belonged to Jews, confiscated by Germans and re-possessed by the B.S. The original owners returned a year later and expected us to move out forthwith. The
B.S. helped right away to sort it all out. Wim was back! We moved again. Opa returned to Bergen and tante Hans went to New York to her nephew. My uncle was back at sea and my aunt found a nice flat in Amsterdam. John and Fred were living with their parents again and Mr Van Oortmersen returned from the concentration camp, ill, but alive! We settled in this pleasant part of The Hague, trying to adjust to normal life. I have a Menorah to remind me of people who were not so lucky....
The Menorah
The family to whom it belonged told us to retrieve it out of their garden in the event they failed to return from Auschwitz.
POSTSCRIPT
One memory that has been suppressed all this time is now ready to be put into words and to add to my story.
On one of my many walks in Amsterdam with my father all pedestrians were stopped by
soldiers. We were near a prison. In retaliation of an assassinated German, five young men came out and were lined up and executed. We had to watch. A vicar who looked at it from his window and praying for them was killed by a stray bullet.
Page 29
I should have elaborated on the train journey to Heilo with my father. Fancy my fear when he told me: Look, when soldiers enter the train and if I get arrested, pretend you don't know me, but make sure you take that suitcase with you!
Page 29
Then there is Fritz, the 4 year old, taken by the Gestapo·. ·I should have mentioned Opa's feelings of despair, guilt and failure. How did he tell the parents!? Though devastated the parents were so grateful for their safety and the other two boys, that they planted a tree for my family, in Jerusalem near the Holocaust museum.
Page 52
When I mentioned the crowd on the Dam and the Germans opening fire, 29 people were killed. One soldier was asked why he did it? His answer was: Why didn't you cheer like this when we arrived.
Page 52
The house we were allocated that had been confiscated by the Germans (from a Jewish family) had been used as a prison. When we lived in it a man came to the door to ask if his shoes were still there. He had escaped out of the window with the help of a sheet.
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
Thea Colemen - my story 1940-1945
Description
An account of the resource
Describes growing up in the Netherlands before the war. Writes of the political situation in the Netherlands before the war. Mentions the invasion by the Germans and subsequently describes life under occupation. Includes photographs of Rotterdam after bombing. Describes life between 1940 and 1942, including air raid drills, rationing, school, German defences along coast. Includes b/w photograph of German coastal defence bunker and fire on a pier. Mentions persecution of Jews and taking in sons of a Jewish family. Continues with description of activities including holidays, searches and the betrayal of members of the resistance. Continues with description of life living with friends and moving again to Zeist and then Amsterdam. Mentions shortage of food towards the end of the war and moving again and gives description of her family and lack of grain for bread. Writes of food being dropped by the British and liberation and the end of the war. Includes many b/w photographs of people and places
Creator
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T E Coleman
Format
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Sixty page printed document
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
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BColemanTEColemanTEv1
Coverage
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Civilian
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Netherlands
Netherlands--Amsterdam
Netherlands--Rotterdam
Netherlands--Zeist
Netherlands--Scheveningen
Netherlands--Hague
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
Contributor
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David Bloomfield
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.
anti-Semitism
childhood in wartime
heirloom
Holocaust
Operation Manna (29 Apr – 8 May 1945)
Resistance
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/890/11129/PHumesEL1701.2.jpg
b7e2bdab74eff6b6808ac8b8bdfd9361
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/890/11129/AHumesEL170826.1.mp3
8e7d785f41f1ca0887f9c3ad8481803a
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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Humes, Eddie
Edward L Humes
E L Humes
Description
An account of the resource
Three items. An oral history interview with Warrant Officer Eddie Humes (b. 1922, 642170 Royal Air Force), RAF personnel document and a memoir. After serving in Balloon Command, he flew operations as a navigator with 514 Squadron
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Eddie Humes and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
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
2017-08-26
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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Humes, EL
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
SP: This is Susanne Pescott and I’m interviewing Eddie Humes today for the International Bomber Command Centre’s Digital Archive. We are at Eddie’s home and it is the 26th of August 2017. So first of all, thank you Eddie for agreeing to talk to me today. So, did you want to tell me about your time before the war?
EH: Well, before the war, I left school at fifteen, with my ‘tric but didn’t follow education through partly because of the circumstances at home, you know. We had a big family and needed workers and employment situation was bad unless you wanted to go in the mines and my parents didn’t want me to go into the mines so we had a little bit of an argument and eventually they agreed to me going to the RAF and the following, follow on is printed in just another story so there’s no point in me going on that. Uhm, I got my wish eventually, I got onto aircrew, that’s in there as well. I joined in on the 3rd of May 1939 and did my basic training, drills and what have you, and then expected to be posted to be a rigger on aircraft but the war was imminent and when we met to be told where we were going, I was told I was going to a balloon squadron and it didn’t please me very much and but the comment from the powers that be was you’re in the Air Force now, you do as you’re told so I was posted to a balloon centre, training centre and stayed there till I passed my exams. And then I joined a squadron where 90% of the people on it were over fifty, they were auxiliaries who at night and that was their choice to be balloon operators, I wasn’t very happy but that was the situation. Finished the training, went to a cricket ground in Leyton, Essex and our billet if you like, put it that way was a tennis hut which housed twelve of us with cold water and nothing else virtually and our balloon was flown from there and I kept asking, could I transfer to aircrew but nobody wanted to know. Fortunately I played football fairly well and on one occasion when we were coming back, I spoke to one of the officers and he said, make another application straight away, so I made another application to transfer to aircrew and they sent me to a drifter on the Thames to fly balloons from a drifter on the Thames which was, again wasn’t very nice, a) it was at the mouth of the Thames and we got the incoming tide, the outcoming tide which, I wasn’t a sailor, it didn’t suit me very much, there were half a dozen airmen and half a dozen old, very old sailors, fishermen and sometimes we got the balloon up before the German fighters came, other times we didn’t and if we didn’t get it up, then we were strafed. Fortunately, I was posted back into the East End of London onto another balloon site, which had few younger people than I was used to previously and it was during the Blitz, there were all sorts of stories but they don’t want. Uhm, and then my posting came through, did I still want to go to aircrew? And I was in, a week I was in St John’s Wood with lots of other people a) who were transferred and b) who had just joined up and we were there for two or three weeks and then posted to St Andrews in Scotland, the university, and we did our training, were billeted overlooking the golf course which was nice and we did our ground training at the university, part of it, this consisted of everything, gunnery, Morse code, astro, everything, and when that was finished again as a result of football I had a leg injury and I, I wasn’t there for the passing out parade sadly but we were then posted to Manchester, which was a holding centre, and at Manchester normally you stayed for two, maybe three weeks and you were posted abroad, you were told what you were going to be, and you were posted abroad. We were told, I was told that, we were on parade, that there was going to be, that I was going to be trained as a navigator, I didn’t mind that even though I’d flown and soloed I didn’t mind that at all but there were some Belgian pilots there who had already flown against the German Air Force and they were reclassified as navigators as well, so they turned off and went down to the Belgian embassy and we never saw them anymore. But we’d been there, dozen of us had been there about getting on twelve weeks and we talked among ourselves and they designated me as the senior airman only because I’d been in the Air Force the longest, to go and see the adjutant and I did that and the adjutant said, ‘You’re not here’. I said, ‘I am here, obviously, and there are a dozen others beside me’, and he made a few enquiries and he said, ‘Right, you better go off home on leave’ and we went on leave and ‘We’ll call for you when we need you’. And about three weeks afterwards we were called back and expected to be posted abroad like everybody else but unfortunately, we were posted to Bridgnorth. And we did the remaining of our ground training at Bridgnorth. And then from Bridgnorth we went, up to this time the only aeroplane we’d seen was Tiger Moths at school in Scotland. And we went from Bridgnorth to Dumfries to do our flying training and there we were in pairs, two trainee navigators to each aeroplane, we flew on Ansons, sometimes in the morning, sometimes during the day, sometimes in the evening, that was quite an experience, and obviously we were putting into practice all that we learned on the ground. Getting near the end, when we were getting near to our examinations, people came in from that’d been trained in Canada and they’re already sporting their brevets and their stripes, commissioned, badges and so on, which didn’t please us very much, and it pleased us less when we were paired up with them to fly and they’d never flown over a darkened city, all their flying had been done over places where there were lights and they had to learn practically all over again at night-time. Anyway, we got over it and obviously satisfied the examiners and got our stripes and so on, went on leave and were posted to Chipping Warden, that’s in Oxfordshire and there we met the Wellington for the first time and met crews, pilots, air gunners, bomb aimers, all the rest of it. And you had a couple of weeks to wander about and get to know people in between lectures and then you were gathered together and you were expected to crew up there, some did, some didn’t but it was voluntary, you weren’t directed to anybody and said you’ve got to fly with him, you’ve got to fly with him, it was voluntary. And then you complete so many hours on Wellingtons, we had pilot, bomb aimer, navigator, wireless operator, rear gunner, five and then at the end of your training, if you passed satisfactory for the officer commander, we went on leave and then you got a posting to your conversion unit and when I got to the conversion unit, it was Lancasters and we were, well, I was surprised because they had radial engines, they didn’t have inline engines but that’s what we were going to fly, Lancaster IIs and the place that we were at was called Little Snoring which is a particularly peculiar name, but we did our further training on there, we picked up another gunner, mid-upper gunner and an engineer, completed the training, posted to Foulsham to join 115 Squadron and when we got to 115 Squadron, we thought 115 Squadron, but we were told, no, you’re not, you’re forming 514 so we were then into 514. We transferred, took aircraft from Foulsham, flew to Waterbeach and we were very happy at Waterbeach because it was a peace time aerodrome and all the buildings were brick, hot and cold water, bathrooms and so on and so on. So then we again, we settled as a crew and had to do all sorts of training until we were called on operations. And on squadron, we were delayed going onto operations because we had to train on a new system called Gee-H, which was navigator’s job and it was something like a television, it had two, what do you call them? Two bars going across in opposite directions and when the, the underlying one, the navigator pressed the bomb, to drop the bombs, uhm that took some time because we had to do high level and low level, we had to practice near Lincoln at high level and near Heeley [?] at low level, but again, we became proficient and that was satisfactory. Our first operation was to, and there is some doubt in here, but it’s verified in the pilot’s logbook, that we went to Biarritz, which is the north of Spain, border of Spain and France and we couldn’t quite believe how easy it was ‘cause there was supposed to be other aircraft there but we didn’t see any other aircraft and we didn’t have any opposition, there was no flak, nothing and when we got to Biarritz, circled round for a bit because we were supposed to wait for other aircraft but they didn’t come so, we bombed and came home. But when we got to the British coast and were heading for home, we were picked up by our own searchlights and directed west and each time we tried to turn and go home, they picked us up again and directed us west again and eventually we landed in Exeter, which was a Polish fighter ‘drome and as we landed, one of the engines packed up, so we were there for a few weeks, a couple of weeks and ordered home, we had a military escort home and when we got home, the rear gunner was getting off the train and somebody kindly helped him with his parachute but they held onto the silver handle and the thing blowed out. Well, we were in trouble when we got back to base, the navigation officer and the commanding officer didn’t like it all and they weren’t ready to believe our story, but eventually after enquiries they found that a Wellington had put out a mayday call and the observer corps had mistaken us for a Wellington and taken us to Exeter, so that was all sorted out. And we just went on, we did four or five to Berlin, Mannheim, Leipzig, but the logbook, I don’t know this, I did ten, the pilot and the rest of the crew did twelve, and I did one with another crew to Mannheim. And then, as I say, we went to Nuremberg, which wasn’t a very pleasant, and then Aachen was the next trip we were to do and the shortest virtually and that’s when we were shot down coming home from Aachen. The port wing was hit first, and then the port engine, port outer engine caught fire and the engineer was adamant that he could put it out but he didn’t for a few minutes and eventually the engine fell out and obviously the aircraft couldn’t fly on, so the skipper told us to abandon aircraft. I got smashed all the navigation instruments and so on, tore up the log and got to the escape hatch, found that it was open and the bomb aimer had done his job, opening the escape hatch, as I went to go through, I noticed that his parachute in the whole day had gone without his parachute he’d gone but his parachute was still there. And as the aircraft was spinning, I tried to get out but I couldn’t, I couldn’t get out with the force, and I pulled my own parachute, that pulled me out of the aircraft and in doing so, it broke, I broke my femur, as I say in the story, on the way down, the only person I wanted was my mother, pray to God that I’ll be alright. I hit the ground and I didn’t hear the aircraft anymore and shortly afterwards there were some foreign voices and I called for help and I called in English of course and they told me to be quiet and they were Belgians and they took me to a house, took me in there, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t see them, couldn’t see the house, couldn’t see what was inside it [unclear] blind, and when I woke up in the morning, there was a group around me and I could only assume they were praying ‘cause they were all voice were monotonous and they brought the doctor, and the doctor looked, he said, I’m sorry, I can’t do anything, you’ll have to go to hospital and the only hospital is a German hospital. So, they called the Germans and he put garden, took wood from the railings in the garden and put a splint on my leg and the Germans came to take me and the lady wouldn’t let them take my, take the, me without the sofa, I had to go on a sofa and this was verified by her daughter, whom I’ll talk about later who was there at the time and she said, my mother wouldn’t let them take you without the sofa. And then, I went to the German hospital, wondering what gonna be in front of me and they were very kind, first meal wasn’t very pleasant but they were very kind and they did the operation, they said, we’ve got to operate, there wasn’t much I could do about it, I couldn’t say no, and I was put, when the operation was completed, I was put into a room, a kind of pleasant room, with French doors and big open window, big frame window, and in traction, no plaster or anything like that, I was just in traction and there was guard inside and a guard outside and when I asked why they were there when I couldn’t walk, I was in traction, they said, it’s to stop the Belgians from coming in and taking you out. So, that was fine for a few weeks, quite enjoyed myself there, didn’t do anything of course, just talked to the German guards who wanted to, didn’t want to speak English, they wanted to speak, they didn’t want to speak German, they wanted to speak English, for when they came to England and they, they ruled England. And then one night I was, flares dropping round everywhere, you could see them out of the window, and within minutes the place would be being bombed and the hospital was very badly damaged. My ceiling came in, the door and the windows came across the cage, fortunately the cage stopped anything from dropping on me and in the morning the surgeon came, he was still in his apron, which was pretty bloody, and he had a scalpel in his hand and I thought, that’s the end for me, but it wasn’t, he was fully apologetic, and it wasn’t the Germans’ fault, it was the Air Force fault for bombing the place. Well, he said, obviously you’ve got to be moved, is not, your leg’s not ready yet to come out of traction so he said, I’ve got to take it off, you can’t be moved as you are, so they took it off, and the way I went in a back of a lorry and the lorry went over a bomb crater and I fell off and broke my leg again. We stopped overnight in a place that was a rest home for German forces and that was just overnight and of course again I had several people come to look at the strange fellow and then I went to Brussels and in the Brussels hospital we were in an annex and there were several aircrew in there, injured aircrew, American, Canadian, there was even one Italian, he wasn’t aircrew, and one Russian, who ill, they’d been put in there and we stayed there for about, I suppose, seven or eight weeks, I’m not sure. And then again, the British forces were coming and the German officer in command came in and said if we would sign a letter to say we’d been well treated, he would leave us there. So, obviously we signed it and the Germans left and on the morning, I’m not sure, the sixth or seventh of September, the British headed into Brussels but just before they came into Brussels, our doors burst open and the SS came in and we said, you know, we got this paper, well, not me, the commander senior officer said, we’ve got this paper and they just tore it up and said, you know, doesn’t mean a thing. And we were put into a bus and headed out of Brussels which was in a state of chaos because they were evacuating Brussels and Brussels, part of it was on fire. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and on the way out of Brussels, we were attacked by RAF fighters and the, there was a wing commander with us, and he took his life in his hand because the two old German guards were old like home guards, they wouldn’t get off the bus, so he tackled them and disarmed them and we got off the bus and went into a pigsty on the side of the road, and whilst we were there, three, three people made the attempt to escape. Now, I know that one of them survived and got back home because he was on our squadron and I know he got home but I don’t know what happened to the other two. And when it was all over, we were put back on board and taken to Holland. We arrived in Venlo and were, the bus was attacked by Dutch people who thought we were Germans and we were taken to a convent, excuse me. The, whoever was in charge put us on the top floor of this convent and when we asked the nuns why we were on the top floor, they said, well, it’s a tall building and maybe no one will notice you’re here. And we were there for three or four days and then one of the Canadian prisoners got a bit furious and he walked out onto the balcony and looking over and people saw him and waved and of course, as it happened, there was the Gestapo down at the bottom and we were quickly shipped off to Dusseldorf in Germany and Dusseldorf was a workers camp, French, Polish, Russians, Italians and we had a couple of brushes with the French people because they were taking the British Red Cross parcels and we were getting the, the rubbish, you know, the French which was not as good as the British ones and they said, well, they were entitled to it because they were working, we weren’t, as NCOs, you didn’t work, only a few volunteered to work, and we didn’t have any problems with other people, the Russians came and helped, they were glad to have a cigarette or a bite of bread or anything that we could give them ‘cause they didn’t get anything, they had to sort out for themselves, and the Germans put the Polish people on guard at the Russian compound and the Russian people on guard at the Polish compound and they weren’t bothered much about the Italians and that, that was alright until we were moved from there and the medical officer, the French medical officer asked me, would I leave my crutches and take a stick, I said, well, I can’t walk, you know, which going back, that had happened in Belgium, in Brussels, the Germans told me to walk, I said, ‘I can’t walk, I’m still in a cage’, so they gave me crutches and said, they took the cage down and said, walk, so I did my best, and the same thing happened in the French camp, they asked me to leave the crutches because they were short and would I walk with the walking stick. Well, being young and stupid I said yes, I managed alright and then we went from there in cattle trucks, yeah, I think was there, yeah, from there in cattle trucks to, no, I’m sorry, we went from Venlo to Dusseldorf in cattle trucks and the cattle truck was divided by a barb wire, sort of fence across the inside of the truck, and the German guards were on one side and eight of us were on the other side, and during the night, there was quite a commotion, one of the German guards had got too close to the fire and his uniform, his overcoat had caught fire, there wasn’t much we could do about it because there was barbed wire between us and his big moan from then on was what is the officer going to say when he arrived in Dusseldorf? Well, we don’t know ‘cause we arrived in Dusseldorf just after a bombing raid. And when we got off the train and on the busses, the people quite rightly were annoyed about the air raid and they tried to attack us but the German guards kept them in their place and we arrived at the interrogation centre where we were put into single rooms and there was no windows in my room, no heater, just a bed with a straw mattress on it and a little signal that if you wanted to go to the toilet, you pushed this signal and a guard would come and take you but we had, they tapped on Morse code between the pipes but I couldn’t read the Morse codes, too quick for me and if your neighbour banged on the wall, that meant that he was going to put his warning down that he wanted to go to the toilet and then you’d put yours down and so you kept the guard running up and down all the time. That was a couple of days there, then we went for interrogation, now we’d been warned back home about the interrogation, what would happen and what wouldn’t happen and so on and the things they told us exactly happened. You got a form [coughs], you got a form to fill in and as I say, what we’ve been told would happen did happen, we were given a form and asked to fill in all the details on the form and you wrote your number, your rank and your name and handed it back [coughs] and they warned you that you hadn’t finished and gave it to you back then and you gave it back to them and this went on a few minutes and then they appeared to get cross, which we’d been warned about really, and a hand went under the table and obviously pressed a button and there was a shot outside and again we’d been warned about that and they said, that’s what happens to the people who don’t cooperate [coughs] and they gave me the form and I gave them back 642170 and he appeared to lose his temper, he didn’t but that was his attitude and he said, ‘As it happens, we know more about your squadron than you do’, and he handed a cap down, he said, the name was inside, Stead, Sergeant Bill Stead and he said, ‘He was on your squadron, wasn’t he?’ Well, I knew damn well he was but I couldn’t say that to him. He said, and the squadron did this and the squadron did that and I just sat there. Eventually he said, ‘You’re a waste of my time, you’re a waste of everybody’s time’ and he called the guard in and I was transferred to another place a few hundred yards away and there we got new uniforms, American uniforms and a case full of good pyjamas, soap, toilet, all the rest, all the things you needed and you had to be careful what you were saying because you didn’t know whether the people in there were planted by the Germans and we’d been there two or three days, we went to our first prison camp, no, not to the first prison camp because we were, those who were injured like me went to a camp near Meiningen in Thuringia and it was an old opera house and there were, I suppose, a hundred or more people in there who’d been injured, different types of injuries and in there was that, Warrant Officer Jackson who got the VC for his efforts, he was in there at the time and you were there until such times as you were transferred to another prison camp and whilst you were there it was quite pleasant because there were concerts and meetings and outside of the camp there was a group of circus performers who practiced every day and that was quite good for us but we didn’t know how they’d evaded being in the army, we never found out and then we were transferred to a camp in Poland and this camp in Poland was fairly new, it hadn’t been open very long and we were given a block number and at the beginning there were six or seven of us in the room but after a few weeks the place had filled up and there were I think twelve in the same room, twelve bunk beds, and I say, we didn’t grumble about, we knew we were there for a while and there was a stove on one wall and in the Red Cross parcels we used to get something called Klim, was a milk spelled backwards and when the tin was empty, we used to put it on the pipe and extend the stove a little bit further and would eventually get it into the middle of the room, so everybody could get warm because of this pipe and then that’s when the Gestapo would come in and smash it all down, start again. And again we had concerts and we had education classes and so on and so on and then Christmas eve ’45, no, ’44, I was shot down ’44, Christmas Eve ’44, we were told to pack our things, we were likely to be moved, and we had a concert that night, there was a Christmas concert, and we had a priest there, we had mass as well, and in the morning, we were told to move, we had to get out, the Russians were advancing and it’s a rule of war that prisoners have got to be moved away from the battle front and so we set off and we walked, the snow was very deep, very deep indeed but we set off for Germany, we were in a place called Kreuzberg, Poland. We set off for Germany and by the time we got to the river which divides Poland and Germany, we picked up children, people had left their children, left them, thinking we’d look after them, but of course we couldn’t but we walked across the river which was frozen to a place called Oppeln and the children were moved away, I don’t know what happened to them, but from then on it was a case of walking, a few nights in a camp, walking, a few nights in a camp until we got to Lamsdorf, which was a, thousands of prisoners in there of all nationalities, thousands and the first room I was put into I wasn’t very happy, they weren’t, they weren’t clean, they weren’t, they weren’t very nice people to be with, let’s put it that way, you didn’t want to live with them after what you’d had in the other prison camps and I asked for a move and I got a move, was to a oh no, I was taken to a camp for interview by the Swedish Red Cross to see whether I was suitable for repatriation but it transpired that I wasn’t bad enough for repatriation so I moved to another camp, which was an army camp, and there were only two or three airmen there, they’d had airmen before but they’d been moved and we were sort of in with the army, we weren’t there very long and then everybody was moved and when the move was mooted, you were told to get yourselves in groups of seven or six, seven or eight, and there was a group of people there who said to me, will you join us? And I said, yes, of course, you know, I’d join anybody, they’d been prisoners since Dunkirk, so they knew the ropes and I said, yes, willingly. They said, well, the thing is, we want somebody to be quartermaster and you are obviously not one who can go and pinch things and take things for your own, so , you’ll be quartermaster and we will keep the things coming in which worked out very well. And we left there, walked down, walked through, I used to walk during the night and sleep in the woods during the day, in case find a source, walk in and think we were German troops, so we walked during the night, slept during the day and ate during the day obviously and then we got a lift on cattle trucks, about forty was in the truck, and we finished up in Prague and when we got off the truck, you were allowed off the truck to use the loo and ladies came like the WVS, German equivalent of the WVS and gave us soup, no, gave us hot water from the engine so that we could make soup and we did that but that wasn’t a good idea because the next day we were all complaining with stomach ache, the water from the engine obviously hadn’t been very clean but we got over it and this was the routine for the next few days on a truck for a while, off a truck walk and we got to Munich and when we got to Munich, there wasn’t room for us at Munich so we stayed the night and set off walking again the next day. And by this time we were in Austria and we were put into a school in Austria but not the original people I was with, about eight of us airmen and a couple of strangers and I think the second night we were there, I went out the morning ‘cause there were no guards, I said, ‘Well, where have the guards gone?’ They weren’t there, young boys actually, they had taken over from the old men, but they’d gone and I saw a lot of people going to church, I asked them, ‘Why are they going to church?’ I said, I was a Catholic and that wasn’t a feast day, as far as I knew. And they said, oh, you don’t know that the war is over. So, I went and told the others, and we walked to a nearby airfield with all the aircraft there was smashed in, they’d been destroyed by the Germans. And the Americans came through and told us to hang on they ‘d be other trucks coming through and they’d bring us food and what have you which they did and then they picked us up and took us to Reims, in France, and there we were grouped and told then aircraft would be flying back in and again with my luck the aircraft that we were going to fly back in, the navigator was missing all the night, and the people I was with, the army people said, well, you’re a navigator aren’t you, I said, ‘Yes, but the pilot might not want me’, anyway they went to the pilot and said, this fellow’s a navigator, and the pilot said, ‘How long was it since you flew?’ I said, ‘Oh, about twelve, thirteen months or so on’, he said, ‘Well, you think you can map read till we get to England?’ I said, ‘Yeah, I’m sure I can’. So, they gave me the map and off we went. And we got to England and when we got to England they were in wireless contact then and we stopped at a place called, an aerodrome called Wing and there we weren’t very happy, we were taken to a tent and fumigated [laughs], we had puffers put up our sleeves and down our necks and what not and a bit humiliating but there, it had to be done and from there we went home on leave. And at the end of leave, we came back to Cosford and we stayed at Cosford to people like me who were wounded, who had recuperation. And the Japanese war ended, and I remember it well, I was in the swimming pool, and when somebody came in and said, the war in Japan is over, I got out the swimming pool got dressed and went, went to what I thought was home. But, oh, I had a pass to go home, but by a direct route, I couldn’t divert southwards, I had to go northwards and on Woolhampton station, train came in for Liverpool and the next thing I knew I was on the train for Liverpool, I thought, what am I doing here? Well, I’d left a girlfriend who lived near Liverpool but actually in my prison time, I never heard a word from anybody, father, mother, family, friends, no one, it was a bit of a joke when the post came there was nothing for me but I’d moved so many times that nobody had an address and when they wrote it was just passed on and it never caught up with me. Anyway, I got to Liverpool and I thought, well, here it goes, and I went over to my girlfriend’s house, knocked on the door, mother opened the door, she said, ‘What do you want?’ And I said, ‘I’m Eddie.’ ‘Eddie who?’ she said, ‘cause I’d lost, well, about three and a half, four stone in weight and my clothes were pretty, new uniform was pretty hopeless, it was hanging on me, and I was nearly black with the sun being out in the weather all the time and she said, ‘You’d better come in then’, ‘cause she didn’t remember who I was. At roundabout half past five the door opened, Nora came in, looked across the room, saw me and went out again and it transpired it, she had a date for that night but she called to her friend’s to cancel the date and from then on we were together and we married in the September of ’45. And, well, we stayed married for seventy years. And then I was discharged from the Air Force because I wanted to fly and they had so many fliers they didn’t want people who’d been injured, so, they had enough fliers. So I took discharge and went to a special unit where you worked out what you’re going to do afterwards and I made the suggestion that I’d like to be in education but again it came up the question you haven’t got university qualifications and you haven’t been to a training college and so on and so on, however I got over all that, and the education officer said, ‘Why don’t you go a step higher and try for teaching?’ I said, well, you know, as has happened in the past, ‘I might qualify for teaching’, he said, ‘If you’re qualified as a navigator, you’re qualified for teaching’. So, I had a test and passed the test, and I went to a teacher training college, they wanted me to go to, the one year, but I wanted to do a two year and I, I became a teacher. And eventually I spent a couple of terms in the Wirral, near Liverpool and then I came to Worksop taught fifteen year old, fourteen, fifteen, it was the first year I had children had to stay until they were fifteen and I had the first class in this particular school, fourteen, fifteens, they’d all, they weren’t, I’m not being unkind, the majority of them weren’t clever, they hadn’t passed the eleven plus, they hadn’t passed the thirteen plus, but some of them were quite bright, anyway that’s beside the point, and I stayed there for ten years. And then we talked it over and Nora had a good job, we talked it over and it was become quite obvious that I was going to get any further in a secondary school, I was in an all age school, so I decided to transfer to primary school, and we moved to Bishops Stortford in Hertfordshire and I was deputy head there for, I think 1967, ten years, and then I got a headship in Derbyshire, [unclear], and I was head there until 1984, then I retired. Came here. And that’s the story so far. Well, I eventually got in touch with what’s the squadron association and began going to the reunions and I had the wife of the commanding officer wanted to start a museum and she asked all of us who were there and at that time there’d be about eighty, ninety ex-squadron members there, if they had anything that would start the museum and I asked, I said, ‘I haven’t got anything really but I’ve got my prisoner of war identity card, would that be of any use?’ ‘Oh yes’, she said, ‘Let me have it. So, I did. And I suppose a couple of years afterwards, I got a phone call, ‘Please don’t put the phone down, I’m not a double glazing salesman, my name is Clive, you might remember my uncle, Clive Hill.’ I said, ‘I remember him very well, he was my engineer.’ ‘Oh’, he said, ‘Well, can we start from there? My mother has been ill and they have told her that her illness was due to worry about not doing anything about finding what happened to her brother.’ Rightly or wrongly, that’s what they’d said, and he said, ‘I’ve taken over and the Ministry of Defence wouldn’t give me any information about anybody but my uncle, they wouldn’t let me have your information. But I’ve talked to the secretary of the association, squadron association and he has given me your address and phone number, can I talk to you?’ And I said, ‘Yes, of course.’ And she’d gone down to Waterbeach to the museum, to try and find out something about his uncle and he’d given up and as he walked through the door, coming out, he saw this card on the wall and eleventh of April ’44 and he said, that was the night my uncle was shot down. And there was only one aircraft shot down. So, you must be the survivor, he said, I had an inkling there was a survivor, because there’s only six people buried. And, well, from then on, we kept in contact and the then secretary of the association was ill and he wanted to give up and Clive took over and all the information was dumped on his doorstep and he’s been the secretary ever since and he does a fantastic job and of course we’ve kept in touch as families, we’ve been away together, we went to Belgium together, to put the monument up, he went to Belgium to find the spot and as he was looking round, the farmer came up and said, you know, are you from the police, are you looking for somebody? He told him why he was there and of course things blossomed and they gave us the plot to put the memorial on. And we were entertained for the weekend by the local council.
SP: Did you ever meet anyone from the farm after the war?
EH: Oh yes
SP: Who had taken you in?
EH: Yes, the wife of the farmer came to the last reunion and was delighted and so were we. And I met the sister of the family that took me in, but she died. We stayed with her overnight at the time we were putting the monument together, but her brother had died and her parents had died, she was the sole survivor. And we’re still in touch, Clive he, if he can’t arrange a pickup for me on squadron association reunions, then he comes himself, comes from Castle Bromwich, picks me up and takes me and then brings me back again, which is a long journey. So, we are looking forward to next year, which would be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the squadron forming, so hopefully we get there. I think that’s about everything.
SP: Okay, Eddie, well.
EH: I can remember as I’ve been helpful or not.
SP: That’s been very detailed, so thank you very much for your time on behalf of the International Bomber Command Centre. It’s been an
EH: Oh, thank you for putting up with it
SP: Excellent story, lots of details. Thank you very much for 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 Eddie Humes
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Susanne Pescott
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-08-26
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.
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Sound
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
AHumesEL170826, PHumesEL1701
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
00:54:55 audio recording
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 Air Force. Balloon Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--London
England--Cambridgeshire
Belgium
Belgium--Brussels
Germany
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Germany--Thuringia
Poland
Poland--Łambinowice
Description
An account of the resource
Eddie Humes flew as a navigator on Lancasters with 514 Squadron during the war. He chose to join the RAF in May 1939 instead of going to work in the mines. He was initially expected to be posted as a rigger on aircraft but was then sent to a balloon training centre, which didn’t please him very much. After finishing training, he applied for transfer to aircrew, but was posted to a balloon drifter on the Thames and from there, to the East End in London. Then his posting to aircrew came through and so he transferred to St John’s Wood for aircrew training and then to St Andrews and to Manchester, where he trained to be a navigator. Was then posted to RAF Chipping Warden on Wellingtons, RAF Little Snoring and to RAF Waterbeach on 514 Squadron. Remembers his first operation to Biarritz. Gives a vivid and detailed account of when they were shot down in 1944 over Belgium, on the way back home from Aachen, when the port wing was hit. Six members of the crew died in the crash, leaving him the sole survivor, breaking his leg in the landing. He was taken by a Belgian family but, because of his severe injuries, he was handed over to the Germans, who brought him to hospital, where he underwent surgery and spent a long period of convalescence. He then spent the rest of the war being moved from camp to camp, in Belgium, Germany and Poland and was then forced to march hundreds of miles from Poland to Austria, from where he was sent to France and repatriated. After the war, he went into teaching and ended up as a deputy head, until his retirement. He joined the squadron association and together with the association’s secretary, his engineer’s nephew, he went to Belgium to build a memorial to his lost crew.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Peter Schulze
Carolyn Emery
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1944
1945
514 Squadron
aircrew
Anson
bombing
Gee
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 2
navigator
prisoner of war
RAF Dumfries
RAF Little Snoring
RAF Waterbeach
Red Cross
shot down
Stalag 8B
the long march
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1541/28265/MGreenAW104402-160919-02.2.pdf
49d73f3c502b3ed0e5695a4ac04a67dc
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
Green, Alan William
A W Green
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
2016-09-19
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
Green, AW
Description
An account of the resource
58 items. The collection concerns Flight Lieutenant Alan William Green (b. 1920, 104402, 1150518 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, photographs, diary and correspondence. He flew operation as a navigator with 218 Squadron before being shot down and becoming a prisoner of war.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Stuart Green 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
Behind Enemy Lines
The WW2 Experiences of Alan William Green
Description
An account of the resource
A biography of Alan Green with personal photographs and headlines. It covers his training in Canada and UK. First squadron was 218 at Marham flying Wellingtons as a navigator, then Stirlings. He flew 22 operations and was shot down by friendly fire. He successfully baled out but was shot down again near Amsterdam. He was captured and spent the rest of the war at Stalag Luft 3. There is a section on life as
a prisoner of war and the Long March.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Stuart Green
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-05-06
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
52 page book
Language
A language of the resource
eng
deu
nld
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MGreenAW104402-160919-02
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Civilian
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Coventry
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Wilhelmshaven
Germany--Emden (Lower Saxony)
Germany--Essen
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Bremen
France--Paris
France--Brest
France--Laon
Belgium--Ostend
Denmark--Langeland
Czech Republic
France
Germany
Denmark
Belgium
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Warwickshire
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
218 Squadron
aircrew
Anson
bale out
Battle
bombing of Cologne (30/31 May 1942)
Distinguished Flying Cross
Dulag Luft
entertainment
escaping
Gneisenau
Hurricane
Me 110
memorial
navigator
prisoner of war
RAF Marham
RAF Tangmere
Scharnhorst
shot down
sport
Stalag Luft 3
Stirling
the long march
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/335/3498/PSzuwalskaW1510.1.jpg
2e6242f277e30976d0a903e8ed41648c
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/335/3498/ASzuwalskaW150910.2.mp3
bad2c71d058d0aa84ead68fac89a2896
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
Szuwalska, Wanda
W Szuwalska
Wanda Gawel
Description
An account of the resource
Five items. An oral history interview with Wanda Szuwalska (- 2020, 2793043 Royal Air Force). She travelled to Great Britain from Poland and served as a clerk and a driver with 300 Squadron.
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
2015-09-10
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Szuwalska, W
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
SC: Make sure that that’s — This is now recording. So, I’ll start this by just introducing both of us. We’re conducting this interview for the International Bomber Command Centre Archive. The interviewer is myself, Steve Cooke. The interviewee is Mrs Wanda Szuwalska.
WS: Szuwalska.
SC: Yep. And we are at your home in [redacted] West Bridgford on the 10th of September 2015. Can I ask you then to start wherever you want to, even before the war started and tell us what your memories are of going into the RAF.
WS: Yes. Poland was, until the Occupation, four hundred and twenty-three years and when the first war started, in 1914, which we celebrated in this country, hundred year anniversary of this war. Poland become, in 1920, a free country. And there was a lot of lands left, not used, whilst Poland was under the Occupation because the people did not want [unclear] lands, went out from Poland and live in France. So what happened when Poland became a free country, descendants of those people came back and tried to obtain their land and sell it. And my grandfather with his six brothers and one sister, bought land, a lot of land and divided it before — because all of us. And we built a little village. There were seventeen houses because there was somebody else and we lived at a farm. I’ve been born on the farm. And we’ve been working on the farm. The life was wonderful. School was [unclear], to got to school, [unclear] and happy – we were very, very happy there. And in September 1939. 1st of September. From ‒ suddenly the worries. You see, the communication wasn’t at that time like it is now. Internet, telephones, anything. We had a paper and some had a telephone. And not telephone only, radio which — a little one. Not the sort of thing that you can hear, only, but — The war started. Hitler attacked Poland and completly ruined [unclear] little town. And then, all our army moved from west to east because we had a pact with Russia that they will not invade us. And all the Polish Army went to the East. I shall never forget — seventeen of September 1939, about three o’clock in the morning, we heard a lot of something noise. We woke up. Looked through the window and there was Russian tanks. Going on the road, because we lived very close to the main road there. And we found out that Sovietin, which was Stalin, dictator, invaded, invaded the Poland. Just made the pact with Germany. Invaded Poland. So. All our army was taken by Russia. By the Russian soldiers. And they’d been taking to prison, to Russia, Katyn and there was hundred and — I believe, there was hundred and twenty thousand Polish Army killed in mass grave in Russia. Now. On the 10th of February 1940, suddenly two o’clock at night, knock to the door, Russian soldiers come, and say, ‘You’ve got a half an hour to get ready and we are taking you somewhere that you have better life.’ And there was a sledge outside with the horses and we had to — The officer told us what we have to do and two young soldiers, not more than probably eighteen, nineteen, left in the house to, that we don’t escape, that we —. And I was [unclear] and these two young men told us what to take with us. They knew better that where we’re going that we knew. There was five of us. I was the oldest at sixteen. My youngest brother was only seven or eight. My mother completely lost it. Think she didn’t know what to do, but father kept it calm. So these two young men say, ‘Take the flour. Take some meat what we had preserved. Take blankets.’ Take, you know, everything like that. ‘Warm clothes because you’re going somewhere that’s —.’ If it wasn’t because of them, I don’t know how we will back. Anyhow, they took us to the station and put us in a wagon. A cattle wagon that was separated and eight people into one. Sort of like a platform and another one. And we started — we left our station on the 13th of February and we travelled for about four or six weeks, north, to Russia and we came to Kotlas, River Vychegda, and there, there was Arkhangelsk. Right to the North Sea. And then when we get from the train, we get into the sledges driven by horses and for three days we were going through frozen river and so many people were left in some barrack on the riverside. It was a barrack built and we’d been left in the barrack. In those barracks then, twice as long as my home and my room here. And they had only about half a metre for each person. And there was built, like a platform, so much away from the, from the ground. And we didn’t know why we’d been left so many in each place. But what happened. When they — April — spring came — start coming. All the, all the side of the — there were plenty of woods. They’d been chopping woods and putting them down the river and they were going to a place where they cut them and make the — something of this wood, sort of — So what happened, when the winter came very quickly, some of those big pieces of wood, you know, old trunk, were frozen into the river, so we had to dig them out from the ice because if they move with the ice, they would do a lot of damage to the riverbank. So that’s what we work. We all had to work. I was sixteen, already seventeen because I was born on the 18th of January 1923, so I was already seventeen and I had to work. And when we work, we got one rouble and a pound, one, one kilogram of bread, who works. But only twenty grams when the people, they don’t work. So my father work and I work so that was we could get some bread. And we get a little money to buy some soup. [sighs] The soup usually be made with the dry fish, which you never know what it was. [laughs] But it was very good, very salty and very tasty, so my mother could put more water to it so we could share for everybody else. And we just lived there. We didn’t know what’s happening in the world but we got sometimes some news from the boat that was travelling up and down the river. And of course I was young and flirt with everybody and see the boat and see somebody. We found some news. And then we got news that there are some Polish soldiers in Katowice, into one city. And then I was, well I was the oldest one and I had to do everything because my mother wouldn’t let my father to go in case he disappears or he lost his way, so I was — It doesn’t matter if something happened to me. So I, I went there, with one friend of mine, a young boy, my age, quite clever and we find out that we, that war started between Germany and Russia and officers came a few days later to our barrack and say, ‘You are free. And you can go wherever you are.’ So going the other way, we had a convoy, we had — We be looked after. But then we’d been left there on our own. You’re free. No money. Nothing. Not knowing that at all. We have to make our way. Find out that in south of Russia, Uzbakistan, the Polish army is being formed by General Wladyslaw Anders, and we have to go there because there is a big camp for all the people who came from Siberia down to south. We’d been travelling wherever we could walk. That’s why I see some people on the television now, how we walk, how we got on to some train. How we had to sleep on the station. And you sell everything what we had. Or simply begging for some bread. But I must say that the Russian people themselves, just people on the street, they were very good. They were sympathetic with us. And we travelled thus. So we found out, then, when Hitler advanced on Russia, Stalin wasn’t prepared for it. So he asked Mr Churchill to help. So Mr — Our diplomats here in, in London, the diplomats who escaped from Poland when the war started, said to Mr Churchill, ‘Tell Stalin to release all those Polish people from the prison camp and they’ll be the best fighter for Hitler.’ And Stalin went for it. That’s why we’d been released. Free to join the Polish Army so we can fight. Fight Hitler. Which which Polish Army proved that they could be — That they fight. So we went all this to this, to this, travel. Some people got lost. One lady lost her arm trying to get onto the train. Fell. It was tragic. It was always like you see in the war story. But now it’s better organised I think. And we got — I managed to get to the Army because I was already nearly eighteen. So it was. My youngest brother went to little Cadets, also. And we got into British uniform, and we serve and Russia wanted that we fight from the East together with the Russian. But General Anders was — He was in a Russian prison camp. He knew exactly what the Russia is. So he insisted that we travel to the Middle East, join the British, and American, and we were in a British uniform, because British — Britain gave us uniform and food. So. So we travelled. So of course he managed to get us and we travelled to the Caspian Sea to Pahlavi , to Persia. Which is Iran now. And then from there we travelled to Tehran and there were camps and we prepare, all the drills and things like that to get into the war. Now. I can remember very well, we’d been approaching on the 1st of April, to the Pahlavi, to the Persia, and we’d been so happy singing all hymns and different patriotic song, that, that we are free now. That we’re out of Russia. And somebody — We stood there — Because looking — Getting into the port, and somebody said, ‘Look. What are you singing for? This is the 1st of April. April’s Fool.’ And everybody went so quiet. We were frightened. And maybe it is April Fool. We don’t know where we were approaching. Where we were going. Maybe we were going to another prison or something. And then somebody started laughing, ‘No, no. We are going in the right place but it is April Fool.’ 1st of April 1942.
SC: Three.
WS: No. Two.
SC: Two. That’s fine.
WS: I joined the army in ‘42. And we train. All we do in the Middle East, we train to be prepared. There was different courses of everything and driving for the women and all sorts of special learning. English. Many languages. And in 1943, suddenly appeal came from Royal Air Force to, to our — Everywhere. If anybody would like to join air force because Battle of Britain which absolutely, now as you know, even — Then. So many forces, air force was damaged. So my cousin, who was there in Polish Army, advised me, ‘You go to Britain because there is quicker from England to Poland, than wherever we will be when the war finish.’ And I joined. And I came to England. Straight away I started to learn, language, and of course all advice. I must say this, this is a bit funny but I must say it. We learned, what, that Britain is very intelligent, well-educated country. Industry. Everything like that. You know Britain was always on top of the world. And we’d been told that all the British ladies are slim, tall, sophisticated. Always hair done. And we came from Russia. We ate everything. We’d all been a little bit podgy, you know, so, ‘Don’t eat too much.’ All the time. And you know what? We even got a lipstick, free. In forces, we got a lipstick, so we must use lipstick because that is how this English ladies look like and so we haven’t got to look any different. Okay. We just arrived to, in the port, into Liverpool. Liverpool. Five o’clock in the morning. So we all went ready. All lipstick. All saying, ‘How does English ladies look very, very sophisticated?’ [laughs] And suddenly, you wouldn’t believe it, we saw the normal ladies, going in overalls, having the curlers in the hair and with a bucket and mop, because they were coming to clean the ship, where we arrived to. And we laughed and laughed and laughed because, because that’s what we were told was completely different. [laughs] But it wasn’t different. It was just like normal. We travelled to so many countries, we knew all people that were sophisticated, well-bred, in the yard there were working people. I mean for us, it was normal how the world is. Anyhow, that is by-the-way how it is. And then we came from Liverpool to North Berwick near Edinburgh to be there before they allocate us. Naturally while we’d been staying here and there, always learn English or some typing or whatever. And then we were sending to Wilmslow near Manchester. There was a big camp. That we changed our khaki uniform to blue uniform. And, on several, on some interview, somebody asked me, ‘Why did you wanted to change khaki uniform to blue uniform?’ And I say, ‘Because it’s nicest. Better thing.’ I didn’t mean only because I wanted to be in air force, I was just saying, as a woman that it’s nicer, nicer to wear blue than khaki. And that was a laugh and I got a lot of applause because that interview was with a lot of people. I think it was in Faldingworth. And then after Wilmslow course I was allocated to 300 Bomber Squadron. That was a Polish Squadron. Ziemi Mazowieckiej. And I was there as the Clerk GD, Clerk General Duty. And I work on the flying control but not talking to the planes that they were going away. There was [unclear], a lady who spoke, but my duty was to get information about weather, because on every aerodrome there was a caravan standing there and getting every hour, a weather. Because the planes, the Lancaster were there. The biggest plane. The nicest plane there is, Lancaster. And it was very important. Yes I forgot to mention. Yes. And then you see, because they had to know. Usually, usually six or seven people in that plane. And I usually do General Duty there. Getting the information about the weather. When they came down, then it was take-over by me. ‘You go to dispersal.’ So and so. And what the section was advised to go to their dispersal because after a plane landed, they usually, drivers were going, usually women doing this work. Going to dispersal. Got airmen into car, well it was a little sort of lorry, and took them to the Briefing Room and that was my duty. And I was there serving ‘till the end of the war. Meanwhile my, I met a young man who actually I knew from Poland, and he was trained to be a radio operator on Lancaster, my husband, Jan Gawel. He flew seventeen operational flight, bombing, bombing Germany and two, another — I don’t even know how to say the other place. Well he done nineteen flights altogether. He was — The Gawel family, they all had a heart problem, that is the Gawels got a heart problem. He is a Gawel, yes. And he died very young, just as I say. Not even aged sixty. We got married in Faldingworth in a chapel. The air force chapel. Faldingworth is in Lincolnshire and there is something going on and I will be there in Faldingworth on the 26th of, 26th of this month. I’m going there, I’ve got an invitation to be there. And, I’ve been several times to Faldingworth. That is my station. So, then we had to — Now. We’d been demobbed and also we’d been left almost on our own. And there was no such a lot of organisation like it is now, they help. You can go somewhere. There’s a service centre here, here, here. Nothing. And we were left. So what are you going to do? Where are you going to live? English people were very, very good. When you walk in and say, ‘Have you got a room to let?’ I remember my husband was still flying in Thirsk and we walked to one house and it was a council house. Mr and Mrs Heal and with a son, and we say, ’Have we got a room?’ I had already a little girl, Jadwiga. And she looked at us and you know, I cannot I cannot believe to — Now, they had a two bedroom and one room downstairs and a very big kitchen-diner and they let us to have a bedroom and a room downstairs and they, two of them with the son, lived in that kitchen and the son had put a small sort of, like a settee-bed, so he slept in this kitchen. At that time, it didn’t mean anything to me, but when I think now, how those people was helping us, I just can’t believe — I’ve got quite a big house for me and I live here alone and a lot of people are coming to this country and there is [unclear] to take them, as you know.
SC: Yeah.
WS: Would I do anything like that? You know, it’s terrible how the church — How the world change. Anyhow, then we had to move. So every airman who was de-mobbed, got a suit and a raincoat, something like that for the civil life and fifty pound. Well fifty pound was lots and lots of money, because my husband had three more friends and they all put this fifty pounds together. For two hundred pounds and paid deposit for a house. 120 Blue Bell Hill Road in the district here in Nottingham and they lived — And they all moved. We had a three-bedroomed house. Three bedrooms. So. We lived in a small bedroom with a child and then in one big bedroom, two gentlemen and one attic bedroom, one room. And they lived — And the agreement was, at that time, I’m telling you, accommodation and food for one week was two pound. Two pounds. [laughs] Best we stop and sell up. So they agreed that instead of — They were paying me. Asked one pound a week. And I should, they should live there and I should cook and feed them for one pound and that another pound, a cheaper way. So after a year, they get their fifty pound back. That was all agreed. Well to earn a little bit more money, instead of them taking, the kitchen was very small, there was no washing machine, like it is now. Then they were taking to the laundry, good money to small house like that, and they had the socks to, to darn, so I darned each hole for tuppence and I used to say, ‘I will wash for you. And dry and press.’ And they’d be, instead of paying to the laundry, taking, that’s what I earned the money to keep this going. And that was our life. Then my daughters went to school, I had two daughters, Jadwiga and Alicja, and they went to school in that very poor district and what happened, at that school, they got the lice. You know what the lice are? In their hair and I just couldn’t, I just couldn’t believe it because we had these lice in Russia and everywhere. And that was terrible. So I used to sort of save money as I could. I can cook very well. Not like my sister, like his mother. As, very good. I cook sort of very cheaply and I fed those people, those men. They didn’t mind because two — For whatever we went through, anything was good enough. A little bit better, it was something. And I managed to send them to private school. It was two pound. I think it was two pound a month, two pound a week. I forgot. Something to this private school, because of these lice. I couldn’t bear any more lice, what they went through in Russia, things like that. And, but that is, that is my story. There is nothing more to say because life in England was completely different. We got the job [unclear]. When I wanted the job, somebody advised me, ‘Go to the factory where they make clothes.’ And there was this small factory. A private — And Mr Davis ran this factory and I came to this factory but of course there wasn’t like this you have so much weeks to learn. You had to know. And I said to this manageress who gave me a job, that I can machine. Never never seen an electric machine in my life but I knew how to — [laughs] I knew how to use the lockstitch machine but that was probably with the treadle and things like that. So when I put my foot on this treadle on the electric machine, even if it was moving, I would be miles away [laughs] really, but again, in a factory, the girls was marvellous. They help. You know. Especially when they see there is a foreign girl, they help. In no time, I was earning quite a good money. Piecework. Everything was piecework, which I agree, piecework absolutely. And, at the end of the day, I worked there thirty-three years, so, at the end of the day —
SC: What’s the name of the factory?
WS: Davisella. And it’s still building there, on the, Davisella Ltd. Mr Davis was the owner. That was a small place. We didn’t have more than about two hundred people. And we had all department. We had the design room, samples and machine room, finishing room, dispatch and all this they used. An absolutely marvellous business man, I must say. The only thing is, he didn’t have the private pension scheme and at the beginning I didn’t know why, but then I found out that the private pension scheme run like this, if I declare that I want to put two pound a week for my private pension scheme, the firm had to put the same amount of money and he was such a — He didn’t want to do this private thing because he didn’t want to pay the money. Which of course. I don’t know how else could have done. Anyhow, at the end of this, my career there, I was the factory manager and Head of Production and the funny thing is, we had a manager before me, Mr Fiat. He was well-educated, he was also Jewish. Speak very nice. And the girls on the floor, they understand me better although my English probably weren’t. And I remember Mr Fiat said, ‘Girls, if you’ve got a surplus of shuttles, give them back to Wanda because you should allow, only have six, no more.’ When he spoke, ‘Wanda, what he mean surplus? What does —‘ There were some girls couldn’t — didn’t know what surplus [unclear] ‘If you’ve got too many. If you’ve got more than six.’ ‘Okay.’ They understood me better with my broken English than that man, but that was, that was very funny. You know, I loved, I loved my girls. And I’m still in touch with those girls after we finished work. How many years ago?
Other 1: Twenty.
WS: Yes. And I — On the telephone. And sometimes we meet here. We are trying to meet here again, that I cannot manage very well, so here is my nephew. They can help me, you know, and bring something to give [unclear] or something like that. [laughs]
SC: Right.
WS: So, because I’m not, as you know, I’m ninety-two, be ninety-three in January, so for me it’s a bit difficult, you know, to get running around. I think I have told you everything. At the end of the day.
SC: You’ve certainly taught me a lot. You’re a very, very good communicator.
WS: I don’t know what else to say. That’s all.
SC: Did you go back to Poland very often?
WS: Oh yes. I went to Poland, I — We couldn’t go, we couldn’t go to Poland because Poland wasn’t a free country after the war finished, without an agreement in 1943, Poland was — that was Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin, they sold Poland. Yes. To Stalin. Churchill believed Stalin, whatever Stalin said, he believed Stalin. He never found out what Stalin was anyhow. So, to go back to Poland, you have to take the British Nationality. And, I took it, of course we had to pay for it. I took the British passport and I went to Poland first time with my daughter, it was in 1962, I believe.
Other 1: Two daughters.
WS: Pardon? With my two daughters. 1962. I had some problem on the border. They didn’t like us who lives abroad. They didn’t like us. On the board things. Polish part. And say, ‘Why did you come from, to Poland?’ So I said, ‘I came to show my daughters beautiful country, my part of the country.’ And then I done something, I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. Oh, I went in car and I — We had to buy the vouchers for petrol, and I didn’t know anything about it and I, I run out of the petrol and stood near the petrol where people were very good — they go, brought me some petrol, so I get to Vrotslav. And then I bought a lot of, enough vouchers to last me for this petrol. And when I’m leaving Poland, they stopped me because I had too many vouchers and I say, ‘Oh you wouldn’t believe it.’ I said, ‘Well I — why I’d done it. I cannot take it.’ I say, ‘Well then I will rip it.’ ‘You cannot rip it.’ And I say, ‘What do you do?’ ‘You shouldn’t have them.’ He wrote a — Silly question. And I, I was thinking, ‘What am I going to do with them? How am I going to do it?’ So I just, I remember the bribe, yes, bribe you say. I just had some dollars and as I put some dollars inside this voucher and I say, ‘Well you get rid of it.’ And so he see there are dollars and he took this. And he said something to me. ‘Didn’t your government advise you of everything, that when you go to Poland, how you have to behave, what you have to do? ‘ And I remember, I was so, it was terrible, I was absolutely — I say, ‘You mean my government, no, my, British government, because my government should be here, free government in Poland.’ I don’t know, but they didn’t arrest me because what do they want with the women? I mean they — the men didn’t go to Poland for a long time. They were frightened because one of very good pilot of 303 Squadron, of the Battle of Britain, Skalski, Stanisław Skalski, he is famous. He is everywhere in things like that about this fighter. And he went to Poland for his mother’s funeral and he was arrested and he was kept for six years in prison because he flew here, for the Battle of Britain. Oh there is, there is books about it, I mean he is famous. So, but I was so mad, but they didn’t do anything wrong to women. They didn’t want a woman to keep in the prison. What women are. And that’s what I, going to Poland, to Krynica [?], I’ve got a lot of family in Poland, about, all together about thirty-three people. But I’m forgetting now all the younger, but I’m still in touch with my cousins in Krynica [?] and in Nowy Sącz.
SC: Whereabouts in Poland is that? North?
WS: Krynica, [?] Górska, is in a Polish mountain. Right on the east, er, south of Poland. Krynica [?].
SC: Okay. South-east.
WS: It’s very famous. At the moment something is going on there. And then Nowy Sącz is not very far from there but — and very close, there is a Polish, there is a salt mine in Poland, that is, the salt mine is on the register of UNESCO. Yes, I’m saying right thing?
Other 2: Yes.
WS: I must say this one. Now. One King of Poland married the Hungarian Princess. And her name was Kinga and when she came to Poland, she, she bought to Poland her dowry. Her dowry was, so she took her ring and wrote to the mine and say, ‘I bought you a salt. Dig there and you’ll have a salt.’ And that is the salt which you which you dig and you have got to think, ‘I’ve got even [unclear]’ [speaks in Polish] And salt. And what happened, when my great-granddaughter was born, that I have got four picture there, I have only one great-granddaughter, and when she, when my granddaughter told her husband, he’s German, and my granddaughter is living in Germany, she’s — she said, ‘What name?’ And she was telling her husband this little story about Kinga giving Poland this salt mine, this village [unclear] and my granddaughter’s husband says, ‘Kinga. We name her Kinga.’ And I was over the moon. You know, that he just brought this name from the little — is it a story or, sort of, I don’t know how you call. You know I’m forgetting some. I don’t —
[Wanda speaks with other people]
WS: So, you see that’s a little, again what I’m adding to my life. My life is —
SC: Yes.
WS: So full and I’m working and I’ve got a lot of medals and a lot of things like that, because I work in social, in every organisation, Scouts and whatever it is, you know. Always doing something. Is there anything else? I think I told you everything.
SC: So you’re working in lots of organisations now.
WS: Oh yes, I mean there is — you see, again, we had a lot of organisation. By being taken to Russian prison, coming and being together, service being together. We like to be together. So when we came to the civil life and started, we got all, and we started to have organisation. There was Scouts, there was all the military, there was Polish Air Force Association, there was Combat — you know, Combat Association. There was a lot of — and we’d be always together. But what happened, our children never join us. Now they could be two story. We didn’t encourage our children to opt to join us because we were full of spirit, we are doing everything, but I think we started from nothing and we’d been about twenty-five, thirty, and we manage. Or even forty, sixty. We managed to get together. I don’t know why our children cannot do it. I’m doing everything in my power to sort of say, ‘Join us. Join us. And see what we’re doing.’ But I’m afraid, the life is everybody is very well-off. They can manage to go for a holidays. They can have car, caravans. They can they can go all over the place. Even my grandson, he goes to, first, three weeks to America. We didn’t. We didn’t have any money. So we were happy to be together. We build a Centre. We bought two very good house to share with the [unclear] and we didn’t get any help. We build a church from all our money. And we’ve been very — for instance, I can give you [unclear]. We built the church, and I was earning that time, twenty pound a week. I give hundred pound to build a church. So that was my five weeks’ wages. Can you imagine anybody who earned at least two hundred and fifty pound a week, that is approximate, can you imagine anybody giving one thousand two hundred and fifty pound for any donation. Nobody. They’d rather go for a holiday. You see this is the difference. And nothing can be done about this so we haven’t got any organisation at all. There is only Scouts and Girl Guides, but also not, we had a very, very, very big jamboree about four weeks ago. There was five hundred and forty-seven Scouts and Girl Guides there. And believe me or not, but I was the only one there with this generation.
SC: Gosh.
WS: I managed to get a lady who had the children there and I said, ‘Look, I give you so much money, take me there and bring me back.’ And she did. And it was unforgivable. Unforgivable to see those people, young people there in uniform, marching and things like that. And about a thousand visitors came here, so we had fifteen hundred people in that place, near Northampton. I forgot the place. That was a British Legion place. They rent it us for three weeks for this camp. So I go everywhere. And I’m going to be in Faldingworth next weekend. And then Air Bridge. Saturday Faldingworth, Sunday Air Bridge.
SC: Yep.
WS: In York.
SC: And in October, you’re definitely coming to the —
WS: Yes. At the end of October, we also have a ceremony in York cemetery. There is a Polish war cemetery in York, as you know. And I’m going everywhere, wherever I can. And even if I have to pay, I save somewhere else. But even if I have to pay the full money for somebody to take me there. Sometimes it could be fifty pound.
SC: Yep.
WS: Sometimes they say, ‘I take you for thirty pounds.’
SC: Yeah.
WS: Some say, some more, then I get somebody else or something like that. I have to pay a lot of money. I can’t have a car. They took my car away. They took my licence away. And —
Other 2: Last year.
WS: Pardon?
Other 1: Only last year.
Other 2: Last year. She has —
WS: I mean, went to hospital —
SC: Let’s not go there. Right.
WS: Nothing happened. They told me that my heart condition doesn’t let me to drive and I feel the same. As you know. Am I different since last year?
Other 1: No, but you can’t see it. It’s there, but you can’t see it.
WS: Oh, I, I —
Other 1: It’s an aneurysm.
WS: I, still it’s a year and I still — I cannot. I cannot forget it. I haven’t got a car. Since I had a car, since 1956. And now suddenly I haven’t got a car.
Other 1: It was before ’56.
WS: No I think I bought it —
Other 1: Oh no, no. Pascha was eighteen months. Yes, ’56.
WS: I bought my car in 1956 and I remember it very, very well.
SC: It was when I was born.
Other 1: 375 Consul. Black.
WS: Yes.
Other 1: I remember it well.
WS: Yes. That was my first car.
Other 1: Red seats. Bench seats. Column change. Yeah. I was four. I was five.
WS: I don’t know, but since then, but that was something to have a car over — but since then, I had a Morris 1,000. I had a Mini. I never had —
Other 1: A Morris 1,000 Convertible.
WS: Convertible.
Other 1: They went to Poland in it. Two, three women.
WS: Oh yes.
SC: Wow.
Other 1: In 1963.
WS: The, the, the boot was open and I had some cushions there and my youngest daughter was lying there keeping her legs on my, on our seats. Older daughter was — Oh what have you been doing? And some boys, little boys going on the pavement and we’re going, ‘Daddy. Are they going to build like that in Poland?’ You know, there was something for everyone. [laughs] Alicja was sitting there with her legs up on our seat.
Other 2: You had a Volkswagen.
WS: I also had a Volkswagen. Everybody said Volkswagen is a very good car. I went to Poland in my Convertible. I didn’t think if I went in Mini, I can’t remember.
SC: No.
WS: I go to Poland. And my Convertible, Morris 1,000 Convertible, was alright. Everybody —
Other 1: 558RMU
WS: Yep.
SC: Gosh.
WS: And milkman is coming. Milkman is coming. And say, ‘Have a nice holiday. Where are you going?’ I say, ‘To Poland.’ ‘With this thing? Aren’t you frightened? My goodness.’ I don’t know. We went to Holland and they say, ‘Welcome to Holland. Where are you going to stay?’ ‘We’re going to Poland.’ With this, you know, they called it because it was Morris 1,000 Convertible. And you know, we went there and came back and nothing happened. We were going to Poland in my Volkswagen 1,300. And my, what do you call, [Polish word]?
Other 1: J563011
WS: Oh [speaks in Polish]. So. I managed to get to Poland, to Vrotslav and I say, ‘Can you repair this?’ And they say, ‘Yes.’ But I knew how much it cost because I asked somebody there. But they didn’t charge me. Only about, how they charge Polish people. They charged me the same as I would pay here in England. And I say, ‘Why?’ And I quoted the name of the gentleman who has got the same thing. And he said, ‘Now look. If you went to the hotel and you waste of two days’ holiday and it cost you much more. So if that happened in England, you pay this hundred pounds so you have to pay hundred pounds.’ And they will say, ‘We’re going to work all night to get it ready for you, so tomorrow morning, and you can sleep in our house and tomorrow morning you have a car ready.’ And it was ready. When I came back, even you told me that they’d done a very good job.
Other 1: They re-wound it.
WS: They re-wound it.
Other 1: Completely.
WS: They done a very better job than [unclear]. So you see there’s such a lot, a lot of things. Oh.
Other 1: It — No, you had the Morris 1,000, then you had the grey Mini C567BR8, ‘cause I had it afterwards. Right. Then you had the Volkswagen. Then you had the blue Mini. But I don’t remember the registration.
WS: [laughs] The funny thing is my daughter from Germany say, I say, ‘I’ve got a new car.’ ‘What car?’ I say, ‘Blue. Blue.’ And Jadwiga, again. ‘I want to know what car.’ ‘I told you I’ve got a blue car.’ And she said, ‘Mama. I never believed that you could say silly things.’ And I say, ‘Ah, I got it blue because I wear blue suits.’ I was talking about everything I wear. Always hat. Blue hat, blue car and that’s nice.
Other 1: All she wanted was the name.
WS: She wanted — and I didn’t, I didn’t think it matters, as long as it’s a blue car. [laughs]
SC: Blue. Yes. These, these journeys must have been easy compared to the journey you’d made from Poland that you’d described all the way through to Iran and —
WS: Yes, that was a pleasure journey where I was going. I mean I enjoyed every minute. Even something gone wrong, I never was — I never even worry when something gone wrong. I remember, in East Germany, there was still East Germany, Communist, and my car gone, that was a Volkswagen. And I stopped. ‘You can’t stop here.’ I say, ‘Well I can’t go, I haven’t got — My car doesn’t go. Something wrong.’ And this soldier. German soldier. ‘You can’t stop here.’ And I say, ‘Well what can I do? I just, just had a drink of water and I can’t move.’ So, because I had a rack, roof-rack, yes, because that was not very, not very big thing. So. I was thinking, ‘My goodness. Somebody can come and steal something.’ But no. I had about three or four soldiers round the car. All mad. Standing there and I never been so safe in my life, in East Germany because they thought I may be a spy.
SC: Gosh.
WS: So they guarded me. And that was good for me. I say. [laughs] You know it’s such a — and I never was frightened of anything at all. I don’t know how I got through it. I just don’t know.
SC: You have some inspirational stories and you’re obviously very resilient and resourceful.
WS: I never thought anything can happen to me, you know.
Other 2: I don’t think you do when you’re younger.
SC: No.
Other 2: You don’t have any fear really. As you get older you see things. Dangers.
SC: Yes.
WS: Yes and you know, I don’t know how it’s going now. I don’t think it’s the same. For instance, my nephew. You know, since he was about fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, he knew everything about, about motorbike, Lambretta. How to put it together. How to take all — into the pieces. A lot of round here and I sometimes looked at him and say, ‘How do you know where to put them?’ And he knew everything. You know. He knew better when he was younger than he knows now, I think. [laughs]
SC: Yes.
WS: Wasn’t it like that?
Other 1: [laughs] Yes.
SC: I’ll stop the machine now.
WS: Okay.
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/.
Identifier
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ASzuwalskaW150910, PSzuwalskaW1510
Title
A name given to the resource
Interview with Wanda Szuwalska
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
Type
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Sound
Language
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eng
Format
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00:48:43 audio recording
Creator
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Steve Cooke
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-09-10
Description
An account of the resource
Wanda Szuwalska was sixteen years old when Germany invaded Poland. The family was deported to Siberia by the Russian army. They travelled for several weeks to the Arkhangelsk region where Wanda then worked as a logger. When war intensified between Russia and Germany, they were freed and she went to Uzbekistan where General Anders was forming a Polish Army. She joined up and travelled to Pahlavi, Persia, now Iran, and then on to Tehran where she trained in an Army camp. She then joined the Royal Air Force, came to England and was allocated to 300 Squadron where she served as a clerk, directing aircraft on the ground and was a driver. Wanda married Jan Gawel who was also in the Royal Air Force and they had a family. After the war, she worked in a clothing factory in Nottingham. After her husband died, she married again. She is a member of the Polish Air Force Association and has been awarded medals and honours for her involvement in Scouts, Girl Guides and social organisations.
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
Polskie Siły Powietrzne
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
Poland
England--Lincolnshire
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
1942
1943
Contributor
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Cathy Brearley
Carolyn Emery
300 Squadron
dispersal
displaced person
ground personnel
love and romance
RAF Faldingworth
round-up
service vehicle
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
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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
Redgrave, Henry Cecil
H C Redgrave
Description
An account of the resource
187 items. The collection concerns Henry Cecil Redgrave (743047, Royal Air Force) and contains his decorations, letters and photographs. He flew operations as a bomb aimer with 207 Squadron from RAF Waddington. He was killed 13/14 March 1941. <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Pam Isaac and catalogued by Barry Hunter.<br /><br /><span>Additional information on Henry Cecil Redgrave is available via the </span><a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/119457/">IBCC Losses Database</a><span>.</span>
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
2015-10-02
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
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Redgrave, HC
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
Harry Redgrave's Driving Licence
Description
An account of the resource
A licence issued to Harry Redgrave
Creator
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Southend-on-Sea Borough Council
Format
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One printed booklet with handwritten yearly licences affixed
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Identifier
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MRedgraveHC743047-160216-010001,
MRedgraveHC743047-160216-010002,
MRedgraveHC743047-160216-010003,
MRedgraveHC743047-160216-010004,
MRedgraveHC743047-160216-010005
Coverage
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Civilian
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Essex
England--Southend-on-Sea
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.
1938
1939
1940
1941
-
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d1312998e636d40c61cbd74768886b69
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/288/3443/AKroeseFW170829.1.mp3
f87c89b9ef839dbc0503dcb2f14574d3
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
Kroese, Frederik
Frederik Kroese
Frederik W Kroese
F W Kroese
F Kroese
Description
An account of the resource
Four items. An oral history interview with Frederik Willem Kroese (b. 1924), a memoir, a cartoon and an empty packet of V cigarettes. Frederik Kroese was a member of the Dutch resistance. He acted as a courier and helped airmen evade capture.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Frederik Kroese 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
2017-08-29
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
Kroese, FW
Language
A language of the resource
English
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Netherlands
Great Britain
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
RVDP: I am Ron Van de Put, IBCC volunteer, about to interview Mr Frederik Willem Kroese who took part in the resistance as a member of team oft hulp aan during the Second World War. Mr Kroese was, among other things, involved in making and disseminating fake IDs, secret messages, transporting arms and ammunition and helping aircrew escape from the Germans and cross the border to safety. Mr Kroese, thank you very much for agreeing on doing this interview. As a start could you tell us a little bit more about yourself?
FK: Yes. Thank you, Mr Van de Put. I was born in 1924 and when I was sixteen the war started in my country. I awake one morning in May 1940 when the bridge near my home was blown up and when the Germans came in. I was too young to do something at that moment but it was not so that from the first day the Germans were in the Netherlands everything was wrong. Every time it became a bit more worse. That there were things the Jews couldn’t do, as a people couldn’t do [railway man?] and so and so when the war went, got farther we more remarked that we had to do something and as a little group we couldn’t fight to Germans but what we could do was to make more — less safe the Germans in being in our country. And so, giving them little stitches. When I was in the third, third year of the war I got a message on Friday to report on Tuesday at the office with a small bag with clothes and toothpaste to go to work in Germany and that was, for me, the moment that I thought — no. That will not be. As you don’t know directly a place to dive, to hide yourself I first went to a friend who was sure as he was following a course for the school teachers he was safe not to be called up by the Germans. I got there but it was a house near the school, my secondary school, where two hundred Germans lived and I was at four metre from them to hide me. The things I did there was pulling potatoes and making coffee and other things. Quite boring. So, I was glad that a man who brought us two hundred copies of a secret volkpaper said to me, ‘Would you come to my place there in the resistance and you could do good work. ’ I said, ‘Oh yes. Please.’ And I went there. Afterwards, I realised me, that the man who asked me that was the son of the particular, particular secretary of Her Majesty Queen Wilhelmina but in war we were just friends. We became friends to fight to enlarge the [pause] to make it the Germans more danger. More difficult to do what they intended to do. So, I started in 1943 at the place [Oldpaten?] and what we call landgoed [?] near my native town.
RVDP: So, an estate.
KR: An estate.
RVDP: Yes.
KR: And seventeen hectares and I could do interesting work and work which made the work of the Germans difficult. First, I became head of the correspondence and connecting group. There were thirteen what we call couriersters. Girls between seventeen and twenty-five who were selected to bring reports from all very little towns to me so that I could bring them farther so that the BBC in London got acquainted with it. After, in the Netherlands, there were the interior forces of the Netherlands and they were divided into sections. The armed section and a non-armed section but there was not a sharp section. When needed I had to go take rifle and to go to join a group. But first was the most of the work was reporting things that happened in the surroundings. And for instance, we had a house very close to the railway at Amersfoort so that we could report what goods were transported by the Germans on the, of the railway. For instance, tanks and other for the Atlantic Wall. That gave us the intention to say if we blow up the railway it would restore the interest of the Germans to bring tanks by the railway to the Atlantic Wall. So, we did. But the Germans were very angry and said, ‘If, in the future, there’s a new attack the house that’s nearest to the point where the railway is blown up — the house will be burned and the inhabitants will be shot down. ’ That was a difficult point for us for it means that the inhabitants of the Netherlands, our friends, nearly became our enemies as we were suspected if a Dutch man who was very close to the Allies saw one of the resistance men he thought, ‘not my home.’ So it was very difficult to go on with the job as the people were anti-resistance man. Became anti-resistance man to save their home and their children. We thought about this two days but then came to the conclusion we must go on otherwise the resistance movements ends and that was not the intention. Certainly not. So, we changed the place where we made the attack. Very good hidden by bush and so and but it was near a house with two parents, forty five, forty three and four children — four to seventeen. And one and a half kilometre farther there was a small house with two people — eighty-five and eighty-three. It doesn’t mean that it is not verschrikkelijk.
RVDP: That’s ‘terrible.’
KR: Terrible. But war is terrible and the choice is to choose for the less terrible thing. So, we thought two people older than eighty can better die than six people in the glow of their life. We then found that the Germans got a bit of [unclear].
RVDP: They were more skilled in something.
KR: They were skilled in repairing the railways.
RVDP: They got better at it.
KR: Yeah. So it first took two days. Then one day. Then at least only one morning. So we made a decision that it was no more worse to blow up the railway as the damage we caused was not interesting enough for what we intended. That was one of the things I could do. But as I said I, we got news to the BBC and when we asked for dropping of weapons we had contact with the BBC and at thirteen hours Dutch time we got messages from Radio Orange and at certain time I heard, ‘The apple juice will not be eaten very hot.’ And we thought, ‘Ah that’s for us.’ Tomorrow at about 11 they will drop a container with weapons in the surroundings of [unclear]. In our surroundings. Unfortunately, it happened that a keen German general also knew a great deal of the [pause] of the [pause] —
[Recording paused]
KR: I was looking for the word. The code. For the German General Guderian knew quite a lot of this code. Therefore, I myself think that about sixty percent of the droppings came in German hands and not reach us. That was very bad but we couldn’t help that. In such a container was found with the weapons was a little book in six languages and at the end several voorbeeld.
RVDP: ‘Examples’.
KR: Examples how to deal with them.
RVDP: So, a manual.
KR: A manual.
RVDP: With which you, the people who used it, the contents — knew what to do with it.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: For demolition. Arms. Ammunition. A manual.
KR: Yes. And that also when we had such a dropping [unclear] of one of our other points and that was Baron von Hagren from [unclear] on an estate of twenty-two hectares where they had to bring the weapons. I did that in bags at the end, both ends of the bicycle and the question was do you go by the main road that’s thirteen kilometres or do you take second or third plan roads so you could perhaps avoid meeting Germans but that was twenty-five kilometres? Well, in short, I decided. I didn’t know if I was lazy but I decided to take the shortest way. And all again good. I came to Mr Van Hagren and I gave him the weapons. I had a message for him but he didn’t want it — to receive from me. He said, ‘That fall on the floor.’ I said, ‘But if the Germans here in the surroundings, he only sees that something is dropping then I, if I put it in your hands — ’ ‘Drop it.’ I think it was that if he was caught by Germans he could swear on the grave of his mother I didn’t receive any paper form or anything from this man. Okay. From my own [pause] wandering I found that the second part, going back was more difficult as due to the hunger winter we had lots of people came from north to the west. That means from Svala to Amersfoort on their bicycle with potatoes, with food. And so, and I had an empty case and people said, ‘How this man has not received anything from the farmers? ’ So, I said to Mr Van Hagren, ‘Next time I need six to eight stones to put in my luggage to be able to drive my bicycle as hard as the people with food.’
RVDP: So, people could tell it was loaded.
KR: Yeah.
RVDP: You had bags full and you wouldn’t stand out.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: Because that’s what you’re telling us.
KR: You musn’t —
RVDP: It was important not to stand out. To keep secrecy.
KR: Yes. That is what I say. If they remark you it’s not good in war. Never put your hat in the light. One of the main things for the resistance movement was to be as close as giving less names as possible and less addresses as possible. Important is that. So few people as possible should know anything from you and from your comrades. All must be done in secrecy. I preserved it when I came by bicycle out of the woods and the German came and asked me my bicycle. I had a band on my arm that I was part of the [unclear] of the town but that wasn’t important for him. I had papers in German and Dutch that I needed my bicycle. That too wasn’t important for him. So, I must walk. And in that case the resistance movement is in alarm for our courier which is not back in time and will he stand not to give addresses or names so that other people will be in danger. It was spare time. That means not to be allowed later than 8 o’clock in the evening on the streets and I came back at 9 o’clock in the evening but everyone was happy nothing happened and there was no name has fallen. Okay. That’s one of the securities that there was. Then another thing was, what we did, I spoke about the girls from seventeen to twenty-five who came from certain directions to give me the information. We could not allow that many times a day she would say, ‘Oh I have — my tyre is no good. I am later.’ So, we had made a decision that the bicycles of our girls must be perfect. So, we went to a salesman in the village. Asked him which people has bought, in the last months, a new bicycle. Then shifted it if it was a good Dutchman or a bad Dutchman and after that we went there. I think that was the man that asked me to join the resistance was in uniform, a German uniform. I myself had a police uniform and we went to a place where we knew they must have a new bicycle and I said to the man why we came, let me say it was a farmer. ‘Listen. This man is a German who needed a bicycle. If you tell me where your good bicycle is I will try to avoid that he goes there.’ So, tell me and we shall see if it happens, if it works.’ ‘Okay.’ As Henk was not a German but a Dutchman he, so he heard what I said perfectly what place the bicycle was but we played a game and so three or four minutes he was looking at a hay farm but I, in the farmhouse, in the stables and then suddenly after about four minutes he said, ‘Well’ and he went directly to the place he had heard that a good bicycle stand. We needed only the tyres so we threw the rest of the bicycle in the [unclear] of the estate. The water of the estate. Okay. So, worked our connections service. Another point. There came at the end of the war the Spitfires fired at German motor moves on the roads and they wanted to make a place to hide between the trees. And the German commander came and told us that he, or as he told the community, we were not a partner, that he needed three people to dig the roads. When he came back, he said, sorry. He heard there were no volunteers so then he [throwed?] and said, ‘Be sure that tomorrow you have three persons. Otherwise the secret police, our secret police, the Gestapo [ Gubz?] from Almelo and they will do their work.’ And we will know that that was very very awful work so we must prevent that the Gestapo should come. So, we gave the Germans three men to dig the holes. We could do that as not every German was em fanatic Hitler follower. Not SS and SA but he was a German who was called up for service and perhaps hated Hitler but he had to do his job and so he made us not too dangerous. We had the, previously, that our estate was apple trees and once in a fortnight we gave the Germans a bottle of apples. And so he was confident and we were confident. Therefore, I myself admired the work of the communist who had to do to hide people in a house in a row while we worked with estates where you much more easily could hide some people. Some events that I especially remember were [pause] at the end of the war pilots were very young. Eighteen. Nineteen years. Didn’t know too much. You know again there were too Britons which was in my home and I played chess with them also and gave them food. And I came above to take the plate back from the food and I saw that all the [unclear] soup was in the —
RVDP: So, he hadn’t eaten everything.
KR: He hadn’t even. He didn’t like it. And I said, ‘are you aware we are in the hunger of winter?’ ‘Tell her I don’t like it but don’t throw it away.’ Okay. Another was there were two Americans and a German car stopped before the house and as I say, ‘away. Away,’ and one of the Americans went to the window and pushed the curtain aside and I said, ‘are you mad?’ ‘I want to see how the enemy looks,’ he said. He didn’t realise the risk he gave to the people who hided him and tried to save his life so that he couldn’t became slachtoffer.
RVDP: A ‘victim’.
KR: A victim of the Germans. And so, it was different questions. The Australian, Eric Blakemore wrote to me many things for the happy memories of chess. And another from London wrote to me when I asked when they should go back the last lines to write a short sentence to me and he said, ‘know yourself to be true though canst be false to any man.’ That has astonished me. I thought, have I been untrue? Have I made a lie? What happens? But it should be something from Shakespeare or so and I don’t know exactly what he meant with it but he wanted that was his meaning. How he behaved himself. Okay. We had. I gave, as I say, the pilots and their helpers food so they must have a food card. Well another of our groups from the [pause] from the —
RVDP: Shall we pause for a moment?
KR: Yeah.
[Recording paused]
RVDP: Okay. Please continue.
KR: The resistance that were different groups with different tasks for when aeroplane was shot down. Our first work was — are we earlier than the Germans to find the people. And it’s the place where they were shot down a safe one. We couldn’t find. And poor German inhabited. The first thing was to take away the parachute and to give them new clothes. Or clothes anyway. Beyond that they should, for living, have food tickets and rations and an identity card. Other groups gave us the possibility to have blank tickets so that I could give them an ID card with stamps and so, and as I was and tried to be, to keep for myself some of these things I still could show my — the girls and school people how I worked with them. So I could show them a blank identity card and could show them how it worked. When it was full, our rations too, we had a group who made an attack in the evening at night at one of the burgh houses where the official guards were and they took them away for us so that we could give them to the flight people who were shot down, to keep them alive. When we sent them back they were some on a bicycle. Some we must hide other way. And we had an example that three Canadians were hidden under a beetroot car and some farmers said, ‘All full loaded,’ but they didn’t realise that underneath three Canadians must be able to breathe and to stay alive. It was so we had, I told you I played chess with them. We talked. In the meantime, we had good contacts but when there were about forty we had a group and there was another group again who sent them over the river and to hope that they were in the south of France where it was free already so they could join again.
RVDP: So, you had to make sure, when an aircraft was shot down, that you, as the resistance, were the first to make sure that the crew, if they were still alive, were safe.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: You took them with you in other clothes of course and you would hide them.
KR: Yes. Yes.
RVDP: And the resistance had all different teams and groups to make sure you had all the supplies you needed like the tickets for the rations, the food, the blanks, the blank cards.
KR: Yes. That was all. That was all good. Organised.
RVDP: Okay. And so, you hid them.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: Until let’s say, there were enough saved.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: To take them across the border.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: Which was done by another team.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: How long did it take normally for you to get enough?
KR: I thought that about six, seven weeks we needed but that was due to circumstances. So when it was perhaps more dangerous that we didn’t wait until we had forty but it was about thirty or so. But I know that my group certainly made twice the group over the rivers to free the Dutch ground. I don’t know how many places there were in the Netherlands but other groups did about the same. So I’m not able to say if it were one hundred, one thousand or five thousand. But we did our work so far as possible and as good as possible to save too — as much aeroplane soldiers were shot down we could bring alive to the border again. That was one thing that we, yeah, to a bit of resettlement and we did it. Organisation was good. I mean of course, the people we helped were thank to us that we did it so that was a good connection. And I must say that afterwards that was not so nice. We did not keep connections. But I think that comes through the circumstances. When I was in the resistance I didn’t find that I did a special thing to remember. So I must say that recently the official groups who organised the remembrance of seventy years. Seventy-two years. And so, the war was over and the end of the war in our country — the 4th of May. I was expelled to tell, or my daughter was expelled to tell why her father was allowed to lay a wreath on the monument in Amsterdam. And that’s the reason that at this moment we must give up from the dark what we still know what happened but then we didn’t. I never thought it is important or am I important. No. It was for our queen and our country we did it and to help as much as possible and dis-arrange the Germans. That was the work we did and why we did it for. And that’s still the reason that there’s not so much in remembrance. I reckon that I tried to save some of the things I worked with but not many people should have done it. And I have difficulty that I, for, for years I broke my neck and people thought oh that’s his end and throw away a part of the papers for that’s not interesting if you don’t know what it means. It is not interesting. And therefore it’s merely the sake of remembrance that I can tell but I’m happy now. I am happy that I have done it. So, I didn’t realise we did in the war. Now I realise it that how grateful the allies should be that, that our work we did in the war. But we didn’t do it to become in the lights. We did it to help where we thought it was our duty. For we were an ally too. Yes.
RVDP: Yeah. I think it was, as you just said very important to help our liberators liberate us.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: Of course that’s what you as part of the resistance did.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: And like you just mentioned the Remembrance Day, our Remembrance Day and telling your story and making presentations at schools. That’s all, that’s also, the Brits say because it’s important to remember.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: Lest we forget. And as we Dutch say — opdat we niet vergeten.
KR: Yes. But we finally realised it should be so important after sixty, seventy years that is and there were people now going to the schools and telling about what they find out about what I’ve seen. That they were born in 1944. I must say that it’s not really — and that is what they heard or what they think of it could have been. And then it is often more interesting or — they have done so much hero things. I can’t see what it was to me. I tell my story. Not from a book. I tell what I remember. That means what I perceived. What we did. What we had. What happened. And not to romanticise it and say if it should have been so it was nice. That’s not my story.
RVDP: No. From you it’s the real story and all those other people who didn’t really live through the war, weren’t born then and make presentations now. It’s more like hearsay. From you it’s the actual story.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: And that’s what makes it so very, very special. This interview.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: So, thank you again for telling us your story and it’s, it’s wonderful. So, thank you very much indeed.
KR: Yes. I regret that since six years I have the illness of Parkinson. So my ability even with —
RVDP: Balance.
KR: My balance.
RVDP: Yeah.
KR: Is not so good so I am —
RVDP: And it’s because of the Parkinson disease.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: Yeah.
KR: I couldn’t do all I should like to do but what I can I will do and I am eager to do it. So if I could please you with anything further and with some help I can certainly do it.
RVDP: Thank you again Mr Kroese and you are a really very remarkable man. Like you already told you were born in 1924. You lived through the war. Did all these things you told us about. You have broken your neck four years ago. You are suffering from Parkinson disease but still you are here.
KR: Yes, and I think —
RVDP: You must be very very strong and you were able. And thank you for that.
KR: Yes.
RVDP: To, to —
KR: I think —
RVDP: To get still — yeah. Sorry.
KR: I think that I broke my neck as part of the Parkinson that I had. Small amounts of not knowing for it was when I went in after walking with the dog in my garden. And as I live now only fifty years I can’t, it can’t have been, couldn’t be I didn’t know why it was. So, I say it’s a part of the Parkinson that has been.
RVDP: Okay.
KR: But I say at the moment to people and veterans the years between ninety and a hundred are the nicest years of my life and I’m so happy I can do these things now.
RVDP: Yeah.
KR: I like to take part.
RVDP: I’m very happy to hear that and I wish you an awful lot more years of enjoyment.
KR: Thank you.
RVDP: So, thank you again for this interview.
KR: Thank you for yours.
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AKroeseFW170829
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Interview with Frederik Kroese
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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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Sound
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eng
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00:59:37 audio recording
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Ron van de Put
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2017-08-29
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Frederik Willem Kroese describes his work for the Resistance in the Netherlands following the German occupation.
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Julie Williams
Mal Prissick
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Civilian
Royal Air Force
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Germany
Great Britain
Netherlands
England--London
Netherlands--Amsterdam
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1939
1940-05
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
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Pending OH summary
evading
memorial
Resistance
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1073/24391/PPickeringE1604.2.jpg
27e86e50a6466d3a32ae5d136fcfaa11
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Pickering, Eileen
E Pickering
E Gascoyne
Description
An account of the resource
27 items. An oral history interview with Eileen Pickering (b. 1922, 483863 Royal Air Force). She served as a signaller in the Women's Auxiliary Air Force at 5 Group Head Quarters at Grantham and at Bletchley Park. the collection includes memoirs, a poster, photograph, bible, drawings and mementos. Two sub collections containing cards and drawings.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Eileen Pickering and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
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IBCC Digital Archive
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2017-04-22
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Pickering, E
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Sector operations room Digby
Description
An account of the resource
Pen and ink drawing of operations room with raised platforms to the left and tables in front. Men and women working at tables and on platforms. map on wall to right and squawk boxes high up on walls. Titled 'Sector Operations Room, RAF Digby 1939'.
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Ron Downing
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1939
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Pen and ink drawing
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PPickeringE1604
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Royal Air Force
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Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
Temporal Coverage
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1939
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IBCC Digital Archive
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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.
arts and crafts
military service conditions
RAF Digby
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/890/31595/BHumesELHumesELv1.1.pdf
f68cd73a388d83878846349fc41dd95f
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Title
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Humes, Eddie
Edward L Humes
E L Humes
Description
An account of the resource
Three items. An oral history interview with Warrant Officer Eddie Humes (b. 1922, 642170 Royal Air Force), RAF personnel document and a memoir. After serving in Balloon Command, he flew operations as a navigator with 514 Squadron
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Eddie Humes and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-08-26
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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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Humes, EL
Transcribed document
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This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Roger Marsh of the ‘Action Desk — Sheffield’ Team on behalf of Edward L. Humes, and has been added to the site with the authors permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.
Introduction:
"Just Another Story" was written, at the suggestion of Yvonne Agnes Kennedy, who felt that my experiences, whilst serving with the R.A.F. would make interesting reading to those who knew me. My thanks go to Clive Hill, the nephew of my flight engineer, who spent many hours researching the loss of Lancaster II LL639 and who kindly gave permission to use the photographs and sketch maps included in my story.
E.L. Humes.
Chapter 1: Early Days
Early in May 1939 I was struggling to decide whether to embark on a career in the R.A.F. or to set out on training for the teaching profession. My parents were not happy with the first and many and sometimes heated were the discussions we had over the subject. Finally they agreed to my wishes and I visited a recruiting office to discuss the matter with officials of the Force.
It appeared that I was not sufficiently qualified for duties as a member of Air Crew, but was advised to enlist and try again when I was a member of the Service. In hindsight I am not sure that this was good advice, nevertheless, I enrolled as a flight mechanic. This might just satisfy my desire to be working with aircraft.
After completing my recruit training I was ready to begin my course, but I was to be disappointed. The declaration of War was imminent and all sorts of changes were being made in the R.A.F., along with many others. I was posted not to an airfield for training in my chosen trade, but to an airfield without any planes.
Protest as I may, I was informed that, "You are in the Air Force now," a phrase I was to hear many times over the next seven years. Nothing for it but to get on with it and become an efficient balloon operator. The training was not too hard, either physically or mentally, and I enjoyed the course but the worst was yet to come.
War was declared. The good life came to an end and I found myself posted to the Essex County Cricket Ground to join a small group to operate a barrage balloon.
What a disappointment! Ten of us housed in a Tennis Pavilion with only minimum facilities, how was I to know that this was going to stand me in very good stead in the years ahead?
Occasionally, I got a break for I was selected to represent my squadron at football, and it was after a match that I met an officer who again whetted my appetite for aircrew. There was a way. I must apply to re-muster. There was no hesitation on my part and I was granted an interview to attain my suitability for the new venture. It was now obvious to those in command that I was far from happy with my present role. To my horror I was moved to serve on a drifter in the estuary of the River Thames. Six airmen and six ex fishermen living in the most deplorable conditions I had yet encountered. We were anchored in position and at the mercy of the changing tides. Besides this
[page break]
we were often attacked by marauding fighters of the Luftwaffe, that often got to us before we could raise the balloon to its operational height. Wanting the chance to retaliate, I dared to ask when I might receive my posting to air crew training. Surprise, surprise, I was sent to Cardington to take a course on DRIVING. One good thing was that it was Heaven after the rigours of the previous months. The course was so very interesting that for a while I forgot aircrew training. Another plus was that I was now with people of my own age group, more or less. All good things come to an end. At the end of the course I was posted to a small hut in the East End of London- Blitz and all. This was to be my home until I got my wish.
Stories of the Blitz are legion, so I will not bore you with mine. SUCCESS AT LAST!
Great news! Report to St. John's Wood, London to commence Air Crew Training.
I could not get there quickly enough. Soon I was having tests for suitability in many fields. The majority of my colleagues were of my own age group once again, and although I was classed a raw recruit, I did not mind one little bit. "Square Bashing" was no problem to me as I had done it all before. Discipline was not hard for me as I had already had almost two years of life in the R.A.F. medical checks, attitude tests and many other tests were carried out and finally, I was on my way to St. Andrew's in Scotland for Initial Training.
Life was so exciting! Studying the mysteries of basic navigation, Morse Code, meteorology and lots of other subjects in the hallowed cloisters of St. Andrew's and in my leisure time, becoming familiar with my fellow trainees made the time pass very, very quickly. Even the weather was glorious!
The time came to show how well I had studied. Exam followed exam. Would it never end? At last came the news I had waited for. I was over the first hurdle. Where to now? Across the River Tay was a small airfield which had been taken over by the R.A.F. This was my next destination. The accommodation was superb, but what was more exciting was that there were aircraft. Real aeroplanes. Only Tiger Moths, but for the coming weeks, I would be having lessons on how to fly. The weather was not always kind at Scone, but I was eventually allowed to fly solo. Such a Wonderful experience, but sadly, I now had to move on to the next part of my course. I had a couple of weeks leave, which enabled me to tell my parents and others just how much I was enjoying myself.
Heaton Park, Manchester was to be my next place of rest. Rumour had it that the stay here would be for a couple of weeks, and then there would be an overseas posting to further training. This was not to be. The Air Ministry had decreed that as there was a glut of people wishing to train as Pilots, there must be some change to provide crew for the other positions in Bomber aircraft.
Lowly airmen that we were, there was no way that we could work out how the selection was made. A group of pilots who had already flown against the Luftwaffe, were reclassified as navigators and bomb aimers under training. Needless to say, this was not at all satisfactory, and the last we saw of them was their leaving camp for the Belgian Embassy!!!
[page break]
What of our small group? Nineteen were to train as navigators, and one as a pilot. Within two weeks the u/t pilot was on his way somewhere overseas. The rest of us spent our days doing very little other than attending morning parade and enjoying the rest of the day, doing whatever we thought best. After twelve weeks, this routine became extremely boring.
Manchester was no longer an attraction as the weather was wet and cold, not to mention the fact that our Nissen hut was very damp and very cold, and we should really be abroad to continue our training.
As the senior airman, I was delegated to meet the station adjutant to ascertain when we would be posted. He was as surprised as I was. Officially we were not on the station! "Go home for two weeks (or more) and you will be advised of your next posting." During the third week I was told to report at Bridgenorth in Shropshire to begin the next phase of navigational training.
On arrival, I found that once again I was on a unit without aircraft. Never mind, my colleagues from Heaton Park were also there. I was not going overseas.
Discipline and hard study were now the order of the day. Advanced studies in the art of navigation and all subjects connected therewith. Little time to spare. Even Christmas was a mere day from studies. Examination time again. Results were published and I heaved a sigh of relief, when I found that I was considered suitable to continue with the course. As the next stage was to put all that I had learned into practice, then there must be aircraft at the next stopping place.
Flying at Last
Advanced Navigation School, Dumfries. This was to be the nearest I was to get to a posting overseas. Yes, there were aircraft on the station. Several Anson and one Botha aircraft were used as flying classrooms. The time had come to put into practice all that I had been taught. Basic ground training continued but now we had to use our knowledge to follow a route and return to Base, quite often with a pilot whose knowledge of English was sketchy, and who was apt to turn off course to see some beauty spot he had heard of in his schooldays in Poland or France, or some other European country. Two trainee navigators were allocated to each trip, one to plot the outward journey and the other to plot the course for Base. Although mistakes were made, it gave each a great sense of achievement to complete the trip without having recourse to the pilot, asking for a positional check to obtain a new starting point.
Aerial Photography was very difficult for me. I was small and to me the camera was HUGE. To hold it pointing out of a window was almost a physical impossibility, especially when the pilot banked to look at the ground below. I often thought of what might happen to me back in Dumfries if I should ever loose the camera out of the window at three or four thousand feet. Despite the hazards I got results which satisfied the instructor, and was ready to commence night flying. What is more, I had struck up a good understanding with my fellow pupil, which I hoped would stand us both in good stead during the coming weeks of night work.
This was not to be. By now I should have known the ways of the R.A.F. better. A new intake of "trainees" arrived on the station. They had completed their course abroad and were sporting the coveted Brevets. The partly trained rookies were paired off with newly qualified navigators for night
[page break]
flying. The new boys had never flown over a completely darkened country side and many were the arguments in and out of the aircraft. It was no joke to take over navigation from a person who had got himself hopelessly lost. By this time, we "home trained" navigators were proving pretty hot stuff at the task! Or so we thought. Training seemed to take an eternity and I was relieved when final exams took place. How would I do this time?
I passed but was not present at the presentation of our Brevets - I had been injured in an inter flight football match and was to spend the next three weeks in the station Sick Bay. Still I was now a navigator and proud to wear the insignia and the three stripes which I received.
642170 Sgt. Humes E.L. (Navigator)
Celebrations went on for many hours, both at Dumfries and in Carlisle, which was not too far away. Home again to enjoy what I thought was a well-earned leave. Stay there until you receive your next posting. I hoped that the Heaton Park episode would not be repeated.
It wasn't. After three weeks I was to report to O.T.U. Chipping Warden where I would join a group of newly qualified pilots, bomb aimers, wireless ops. and gunners to form an aircrew.
One Step Nearer to Operational Flying
Chipping Warden, was an R.A.F. operational flying training unit. The aircraft used were Wellingtons and the training staff were almost 100% ex-operational aircrew. The atmosphere was so exhilarating!
For a week or so, we had lectures etc., and we mingled with the trainees in other flying categories. There were pilots, navigators, bomb-aimers, wireless- operators and air-Gunners from almost every country in the British Empire. The time arrived when I was approached by an Australian Pilot and asked if I would like to join him in forming an aircrew. I had noticed Noel at a discussion group a few days earlier, and had been impressed by his attitude, of course I would join him.
Our next task was to find a Bomb-Aimer suitable to us both. Jack Moulsdale (RAAF) had started his flying training in Australia at the same time as Noel, but had not qualified as a pilot. Undaunted, he continued his training and became a bomb - aimer. It seemed to me that it would be a wise decision to have someone else who had experience of flying an aircraft in our crew. Now to find a W./Op.- how the title drops from the tongue - now I was aircrew. It was left to yours truly to make the choice; even up the score; find a Brit. All agreed that the well built Scot would fit the bill. Jock Hughes became the fourth member of our crew. In order to complete our Wellington crew, we needed an Air-Gunner. The four of us looked around carefully and decided that the tall, quiet Australian was the best bet. He agreed to join us.
Now we were a crew. From now onwards we had to work hard to become a unit, not just airmen wearing brevets, but a group who must learn to trust and depend on one another. Various ground exercises were carried out until we each knew what was expected, should we ever become involved in any problem, major or minor.
Flying training began in earnest. Cross country flights in which I had to prove myself as an able navigator. Practice bombing and infra-red photography, where Jack had to show his prowess at hitting the target. Jock had to impress us with his ability to send and receive radio messages and
[page break]
to obtain navigational data, which would assist in locating the position of the aircraft. During these flights, Reg would operate his rear turret and become used to life in a small rear-turret. There were, of course, times when we "flew for real". Fighter simulation and long night flights of four hours or more to prepare for the tasks ahead.
On one occasion we were instructed to join eight other aircraft in a six hour night cross country exercise, which would involve every aspect of what we would be likely to meet on an operational flight, without the "flak". Things became complicated when a blanket of cloud covered the whole of the British Isles. Radio silence was essential and navigation was carried out using the courses worked out at the morning briefing. I cannot say that I enjoyed the first couple of hours! Suddenly I had the opportunity to practice the astro navigation I had enjoyed so much. One shot only. Could I rely on it? I had no option. A slight alteration of course was needed. We continued on our way, all praying that my fix had been correct. Infra-red photographs were taken by Jack on pre- flight time schedule. Eventually we crossed our fingers, by my reckoning we were within a few miles of Base. Imagine our relief when we received a message giving a course to fly to complete the trip. We were only a few minutes away.
On landing, we discovered that six of the eight aircraft which had left with us, had landed in various parts of the country, one had crash landed in Ireland. As far as my crew were concerned they had found a useful navigator.
Chapter 2: 1678 Conversion Unit
Two weeks leave and then report to Little Snoring. What a peculiar name. What a wonderful surprise. Sitting on the aerodrome were four engined aircraft, not the usual Lancaster but a type with Radial engines. This was to be our operational aircraft. All we had to do now was to show that we were capable of flying as a crew.
First we needed extra hands. Clive Banfield became the flight engineer and Clem Hem was our mid- upper gunner. Clive was English and Clem Australian. Four Australians and three Englishmen. The youngest was twenty one, and the eldest, thirty six (this was not quite the case as I discovered many, many years later, that Clive had falsified his age in order to leave a reserved occupation to fly.)
Very quickly we gelled into a crew again. "Thack" was the first to experience the thrill of flying in the Lanc II. He sang its praises and we were not disappointed when we had our first flight. Once again we had to carry out the drills of cross- country flying, Fighter affiliation, night- flying and the like but there was an additional item- Low flying! Here was a new slant on navigation. Map reading was not easy at the speed we flew in the new aircraft. Gradually everything slotted into place. We soon understood why Clive had been added to the team as the multiplicity of controls was more than one pair of hands could cope with. This quiet, confident man was just what we needed.
Our training schedule was moving along nicely, but halted when early mist and fog made flying impossible. The Nissen huts in which we were billeted were cold and damp, and so miserable to spend the days in. I was reminded of the old days in Balloon Command. The ground courses had
[page break]
been completed and we longed to be told of our posting to an operational unit, but we now had to train in using a new navigational device- Gee H. This was a new method of using radar to reach the target and to release the bomb load when visual signals coincided on a screen on the nav. table. This was not a very thrilling exercise for the other crewmembers, and we were all very pleased when I became proficient and the monotonous training flights were completed.
Now came the news we had waited so long to hear. We were to join 115 Squadron for Operational duty! Whilst we were on leave we received orders to return to Foulsham, not to join 115 but to become the nucleus of a newly formed Squadron-514. Our base was to be at Waterbeach in Cambridgeshire. We were allocated an aircraft and transferred all our personal equipment in it to our new home. Some crews had to carry out a raid on Germany on their way to Waterbeach.
Luckily no aircraft were lost.
I cannot describe my feelings on stepping out into the atmosphere of the new unit. Noise and bustle everywhere. The station had been completed shortly before war was declared. Our quarters were to be in red brick barracks and there was hardly a Nissen Hut in sight. Hot and cold water - such luxury!
Again "Thack" was to be the first to fly an operational mission. He was second pilot to a more experienced man before being allowed to captain his own crew on bombing missions. All flying was now in earnest. More Gee-H. Dinghy drills, escape drills, low level flying and all the exercises we had carried out so many times before. It was somewhat nerve racking, waiting to hear the word that we were to be on Ops at last.
The order of battle showed that we were to fly "for real" on 25th November 1943. 'Power and Majesty'
Posing for company photographs provides the rare opportunity for an Armstrong Whitworth test pilot to put on 60° of bank and show what a Lanc. II can do, Delivered to No. 408 (Goose) Squadron RCAF at Linton - on - Ouse, this machine (DS 778) was, like so many, destined for an early demise, failing to return from Kassel on 22/23 October 1943, barely two months from the day this picture was taken.
Photo: Hawker Siddeley / AWA. Ref: 'The Lancaster at War 2, Garbett & Goulding. Pub- Ian Allan Life on Squadron.
Little changed; now we were an aircrew and believed that we were equal to any flying task allotted to us. Air tests had to be carried out and also the various drills which would keep us up to operational standard. Each morning, we looked at Flying Orders hoping that we would be listed for "ops." registering varying emotions. The more often we carried out a raid over enemy territory, the quicker we could complete our tour. None of us had any thought that we would not complete our thirty operations.
There was a lot of banter and, more often than not, it would include arguments between the many members of the Commonwealth who made up the squadron. Who provided the best crews? Why was it so cold and wet in England? Football matches, cross country runs and other sporting events, which pitted Aussie against Pommie, Scot against Welshman, and West Indian against
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New Zealander. Of course not all free time was spent on camp for the city of Cambridge was not very far away and transport was frequent. The city was a place of recreation for other Forces, both air and ground. Many were the disputes between members of the American aircrews as to who did the best job and these arguments did not always end peacefully. Fortunately I was a "pacifist," so kept well out of the way when the discussions became heated.
I was so pleased to be selected for the Squadron Football X1. Each Saturday and quite often on weekdays we played matches against local teams, Cambridge University included. I cannot remember having to withdraw because of operational duties.
Numerous stories written about life in Bomber Command tell of boisterous nights in the Officers’ or Sergeants’ Mess but I have no recollection of such events in the Mess at 514.
Ground crews and operational personnel built up a great rapport. Each aircraft was meticulously cared for and on many occasions, ground crews waited for the return of "their" aircraft. Should an aircraft fail to return, there was great distress but soon those responsible for maintenance would transfer their allegiance to the replacement aircrew.
Christmas Day was an occasion when senior ranks showed their appreciation for the work done by ground staff by serving the midday meal. The Australian members had saved a good portion of their parcels from home to pass on as thanks to our own ground crew. Fruitcake, chocolate bars, tinned fruit and all manner of goods which were hard, almost impossible to obtain in England, were eagerly accepted.
Life returned to normal the following day. Christmas 1943 was very cold indeed and all personnel not engaged in other duties were ordered to assist in removing snow from the runways. Surely ops. would not take place that night. After all the hard work, the "Stand Down " was given. Normal flying was resumed on 26th December.
Throughout December 1943, January, February and March 1944, the crew continued operational flying. March 30th was the most terrifying night when the city of Nuremberg was the target.
Something was drastically wrong as aircraft were shot out of the sky. Over 100 being the victims of anti- aircraft fire and the relentless attacks by enemy fighters. More allied planes were lost on the way back to bases in England.
Thackray's crew survived.
Triumphs and Disaster
Our first operational flight as a crew was to be to Biarritz. In company with ten aircraft from other squadrons in 3 Group, we were to drop mines in the harbour there.
Whilst Thack and the rest of the crew carried out flight tests, I worked on the route we were to follow, and how I worked. Nothing could be left to chance! The day passed so very quickly and soon we were sitting down to the pre-op meal. Now we were operational. Parachutes and Mae Wests, fitted we boarded the aircraft. We taxied to the runway and at last received the green. In a few minutes we were airborne. Soon we had reached the English coast and were heading south over France.
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There was no sign of the other planes which were supposed to accompany us, but we flew on and on. As yet no enemy aircraft was sighted nor were we troubled by flak. Surely things couldn't be this easy. Biarritz! On time and on target. Where were the others? We circled for a few minutes and as there was still no sign of other planes, we decided to release our mines and turn on course for home. The return flight was no more exciting than the outward journey until we crossed the English coast, where we were immediately picked up by searchlights and directed to the West where we finally landed at Exeter, many miles from Waterbeach! Two things arose from the resultant enquiry. First, we should have received an "operation cancelled" signal before crossing the coast on the outward leg, and secondly we had been mistaken by the Observer Corps for a Wellington on a training flight that had got lost and broadcast a " May Day" signal. The searchlights had carried out the rescue procedure with us instead of them. We finished our first op. accompanied by an armed guard and of course had a tongue lashing from our various section heads. Apologies were forthcoming when the truth of the story finally came out.
Berlin was to be our next port of call. My nerves jangled for the whole of the day and I checked and re- checked every part of my pre flight plan. I settled as soon as we were airborne. This is the job I had been trained for during so many long months. What is more, I was responsible for the lives of six others, or so I told myself. Very few words were spoken during the flight. We were all on a knife-edge. Bomb aimer to Skipper, " Target directly ahead." Relief; little of note had occurred on the outward leg and obviously my route planning had been O.K. I did not wish to look at the burning city, I was quite happy to listen to the observations of the crew. We turned on the course for home and Thack let out a horrendous cry! An aircraft was turning immediately ahead. Surely we were not going to end the trip by crashing into a friendly aircraft. In seconds the danger was over but I needed to work out a slight adjustment to our course. From my position I could see nothing but listened to the comments of the others. I was scared, the aircraft shook and rolled but this was simply because we were flying in the stream of other planes. Searchlights groped around the night sky and I could see these. In next to no time Jack was able to report the sighting of the enemy coast and a short time afterwards, the marvellous news that we had crossed the English coast. Soon we were over Waterbeach, home, safe and sound. December 2nd 1943 was a date I shall never forget.
Debriefing over, we returned to barracks and turned in. Sleep would not come as I lay thinking of the events of the day. I was not alone for the other crewmembers were also reliving the events of the night of our very first operation over Germany.
Chapter 3: ABANDON AIRCRAFT!!!
The day was 11th April, the year 1944. Our target was to be a fairly easy trip to Aachen, perhaps our shortest flight over Germany. The usual preparations were made and in the early evening we set course for the target hoping to return well before midnight. All went well and we dropped the bomb load over the city and set course for home.
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Disaster struck! The port outer engine caught fire. It seemed that we had been hit by flak, as none of the air gunners had sighted enemy aircraft. Noel ordered us to prepare to abandon which meant that all secret equipment and navigational and wireless codes had to be destroyed. Gunners had to leave their turrets and all had to head for the escape hatches, except of course for Thack. For a few moments we flew on. Clive was doing his utmost to extinguish the blaze and believed that we would be able to continue. The blazing engine fell away. The end was near, as the pilot could no longer keep control.
ABANDON AIRCRAFT!! Jack answered at once. Reg reported that his turret would not operate. Jock said that he would try to help Reg, and Clem responded that he too would move to help with the rear turret. Clive was not at all pleased that we were to abandon. As for myself, I headed for the front escape hatch passing both Clive and Thack, who was still at the controls. As I reached the top of the steps, I was astounded to find the escape hatch open, but Jack's parachute pack was still in the container. There was no sign of him!
I had no time for further thought, for at that moment the nose of the plane dropped and I found myself trapped by my legs. To this day I do not know what was preventing me from leaving the stricken aircraft. What was I to do? Without any further thought, I pulled the ripcord. I felt a sharp pain in my legs but to my great relief, my ‘chute pulled me clear of the aircraft. I drifted towards the earth, but could see nothing nor could I hear a sound. I prayed to almighty God for his help and cried out for my mother. All this had happened in seconds.
I assumed that I was drifting downwards but could not be sure where I was going to land. Crash! I had landed in undergrowth but where? I did not have the slightest idea. Minutes passed, I could feel that my uniform was in tatters and that I was bleeding profusely. Strangely I felt no pain. I heard movement and immediately began crying for help, but was warned to be quiet. Obviously it was not German soldiers in the immediate vicinity. Helping hands picked me up and untied my Mae West; I had responded to training and had by instinct got rid of my parachute silk on hitting the ground. When I awoke I was lying on something very soft, but could not see what it was. My right leg gave me a lot of pain and I ran my hands over it. It seemed to be a peculiar shape.
Gradually my hearing improved and I could hear voices in what seemed to be prayer. As yet, I could not see where the sound was coming from, but realised that I was being addressed in English. A doctor had been called and he was advising me that there was nothing he could do to treat my wounds, but that he would make me comfortable until the Germans arrived. A couple of pieces of wood from the garden fence were used to make splints for the leg that had sustained a very bad fracture. My face and hands were washed clean of blood that had come from multiple scratches. After making me comfortable and allowing me to sleep for the remainder of the night the Germans were called. As soon as they arrived the atmosphere changed. What had been a quite room now became a very noisy area indeed. I was to be taken away by them, but it appeared that the family would not permit the enemy to move me from the sofa on which I was
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resting. Finally I was carried, still on the sofa, to the waiting lorry. I discovered some 50 years later that the family name was Conen and I had the pleasure of meeting the only surviving member.
A GUEST OF THE GERMAN NAVY
Somewhere around teatime, my guards deposited me at a hospital staffed by German navy personnel. I was well scrubbed and put into a nice clean bed. A meal of Black bread, cheese from a tube and the foulest tasting coffee was given to me. All the time I was eating, sailors wandered by to take a look at the English captive.
My next real visit was from a medical officer who explained that there would be a need to operate on my leg in the next few hours. He was quite friendly and was in no way what I had expected.
Maybe this was part of the softening-up process I had been warned to expect in those briefing sessions in training. Some time later I was taken to the operating theatre and knew no more until I woke up in a private room with a large picture window on the left and a pair of doors to the right of my bed. There I lay, with my leg in traction but with no sign of a plaster cast. A large iron framework kept the sheets from weighing on my legs. Looking further to my right I saw a German sailor standing guard inside the doors and beyond him, another sailor, both with fixed bayonets! I was told afterwards that these guards were there to keep Belgian people out, for there was no way I could possibly escape.
What lay ahead of me? Meals were delivered on time and once I had become used to the black bread and acorn coffee, the rest of my diet was quite pleasant. Strangely enough, I felt very little pain and I was able to see quite well. After a few days my Rosary was returned to me and it transpired that one of my guards was a Catholic. Now we had a talking point, but he was not particularly interested in teaching me German, but wished to improve his English so that he would be able to converse with English citizens when Germany defeated England! Sign language was used more often than words in the first instance, but we got along very well indeed.
At first, time passed pretty quickly. When night fell I would listen for the sound of allied aircraft passing overhead and try to work out where they might be going, by working out the time that elapsed between the inward and outward journey. Sometimes an airman would be brought in to occupy the second bed in the room, and I would become updated with the progress of the war. Sadly, there was seldom a time when any of these new aircrew members stayed longer than one day. As the weather outside improved I began to yearn for a move to somewhere among English speaking prisoners. I was aware that there were no prisoners from the allied forces in the hospital in which I was being treated.
Early in June, fighter activity began to increase quite dramatically and the air raid sirens were often sounded. Each time this happened my guards disappeared and I soon found out that part of their duties was to man part of the air defences. I cannot remember the date, but one evening, I noticed that the night sky was rapidly illuminated with brightly coloured flares. This could only mean one thing - the area was to be the target for that night ! ! !
I was right. Sirens wailed and anti-aircraft guns blasted away at the allied aircraft. Soon, bombs began to fall and I heard explosion after explosion. Surely I was not going to be a victim of action
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by the R.A.F? Soon I had my answer for my bedroom shook and glass windows broke. The noise was horrendous and because of my situation, I could take no action whatever to hide away or to reach shelter. Just as I pulled the bed sheets over my head, I felt an almighty crash and wondered what the outcome of this was going to be. Gradually the noise subsided and soon I was able to risk turning down the sheets. The window and doorframes were lying across the cage that protected my legs, and I saw searchlight beams and ack- ack bursts. THE CEILING HAD COLLAPSED! ! ! ! I was alive but terrified. What would happen to me now? One of my guards visited to check on my condition, but it was some hours before I was made aware of the extent of the damage caused by the raid. My room was reasonably sound when compared to the rest of the hospital.
A Change of Surroundings.
As the morning passed, I could hear the sound of rescue crews moving about the hospital grounds. Now and then there would be an almighty crash as a building toppled. Fires burned brightly and soot fell, making my once white bed linen look very dirty indeed. I thought for a time about the times when I had been bombed back in England and how enemy fighters had attempted to destroy the barrage-balloon sites on which I served, but I am afraid it gave me little comfort.
There I had been among friends, but now I was among enemies. How would they re-act to the night's events? I was soon to find out.
From the background of soot and smoke, there appeared the figure of one of the surgeons who had cared for me over the previous weeks. His apron was bloodstained, and in his hand he held a scalpel, likewise covered in blood! What was he going to do to me? He soon put my mind at rest and after referring to the air-raid being carried out by my friends, he told me that although I should be in traction for a further four weeks, there was nothing that could be done but to remove the pin and other items, and transfer me as quickly as possible to another hospital.
No sooner said than done! I just had to grit my teeth, hold tight and the job was done. A lorry was drawn up to the ruin and a stretcher was brought from somewhere, and I was loaded aboard for my journey, no guards this time. Off we went, sometimes dodging the potholes, but more often than not there would be an almighty jolt as we hit what I presumed was a crater. Suddenly the stretcher left the floor of the vehicle and I was deposited on to the boards. I felt more pain than I had felt since leaving the aircraft, but try as I may, I could not get the attention of the driver.
Another gritting of teeth until we reached our destination, which turned out to be a "Rest Home" for German officers.
I got little sympathy and was informed that there was not the facility to deal with my new injury, which was a re-fractured femur; the fall had undone the work that had been done. Soon, I was on my way again to another hospital, somewhere in Brussels. I was hungry, dirty and in quite some pain, but at last I reached my new home. The hospital sister was not at all pleased at the state I was in. She was unaware of what I had been through and commented that surely no soldier would set out on a mission in the dirty state that I was in. "Stand up and follow me to the bathroom," she said. Only when I had convinced her that my leg was broken did she realise the predicament I was
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in. Immediately her attitude changed. She became an angel and remained so for the rest of my stay.
Now spotlessly clean, I was placed in a bed in a barrack room along with twenty or so captured allied aircrew, and learned that I was in an annexe to a German military hospital in the centre of Brussels. They were not too happy to hear that I had been captured several weeks earlier, and thus could not give news of the allied advance through France. To be honest, I was pleased to know that our forces were on their way. My next information was that I would have twenty-four hours to talk about my predicament and then the subject would be taboo. My "Angel" returned to prepare me for an operation on my right femur.
She explained the whole process and commented on how lucky I was going to be to have a leading surgeon carrying out a recent technique, to put my bone together again (I have since learned that the procedure was known as The Kuetschner Nail Method). Off we went to the theatre, and the surgeon began his task. He was far from happy when I yelled with pain! I had felt his scalpel cut into my upper leg!! Initially he did not believe me, but quickly realised that the spinal anaesthetic had not done its work. At once he took steps to remedy the matter and my next memory was that of waking up in bed, again in traction, and being cared for by a young lady in white. Was I in heaven? No, I was back in the P.O.W. ward.
The following morning, the operating surgeon came to check on my well-being and to apologise for the slip up of the previous day. He told me that the operation had gone well and that I would be in traction for approximately twelve weeks. Where had I heard that before? Now I was able to learn about my fellow prisoners and to catch up on the progress of hostilities.
My colleagues were from all parts of the Commonwealth, U.S.A and France, and there was even a prisoner with Russian nationality. Their injuries were of many kinds. Severe burns, broken limbs and some had limbs that had been amputated. I was only a small player.
Chapter 4: ON THE MOVE AGAIN
Many and varied were the tales my fellow patients had to tell. One especially, bears repeating. After the aircraft had been hit, the radio-operator had moved to leave his position when the aircraft broke up and he was left hanging from a piece of wreckage, but he was still wearing his helmet with the inter-com plug connected. His parachute opened and pulled him from the aircraft but not before he had removed the plug. Suddenly the unit gave way and the cord from the headset caught in the lines of the `chute. He landed unable to move. He arrived at the hospital fully conscious and able to speak but it was quite a few weeks before he was able to use any of his limbs. Part of his recovery programme was to attempt using a concertina. The last time I saw him, he was still struggling.
Each new arrival brought news of the progress of Allied forces; often their stories were very much different from the propaganda given out by the German radio, and the tales told by the staff of the hospital. The weeks passed quickly, and as August approached, the sound of heavy gunfire increased. The news from Belgian workpeople was that the allies were now close to Brussels.
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Each day we waited for good news but it seemed to us that movement had come to a halt. Perhaps the forward push had ceased or the powers that be had decided to by-pass the capital. On the 6th September, we had a visit from the senior officer of the hospital staff. He was ready to leave us in the hospital if the senior British officer would sign a document stating that we had been treated well during our captivity. We were overjoyed and were 100% ready to agree! The day passed agonisingly slowly and the night was full of the noise of artillery fire. There was nowhere for us to find shelter so we hid our concern by singing the tunes of the time.
As dawn broke, the sound of gunfire decreased and the sky was red with flame. Surely we would be recaptured in an hour or two! The doors of the annexe burst open and a number of German troops appeared. To our horror they wore the uniform of the S.S. Thoughts of being recaptured were dashed as the officer in command refused to accept the document signed the previous day. The walking wounded were ushered away and the bedridden lifted into wheelchairs. I was released from my traction, given a set of crutches and told to make my way to the bus, which was waiting. I soon had the knack of using crutches for the S.S. were in no mood to hang about. When it was clear that there were no other Allied prisoners left in the hospital, the bus moved off and we turned into the main square where we saw the Palais de Justice burning fiercely. There seemed to be thousands of troops moving about and heading out of the city. Slowly, yard-by-yard, we passed among the crowds, and at last reached the road signposted "VENLO". We were on our way to Holland but much was to happen before we reached our goal.
The roads were packed with retreating German troops and fleeing Belgian citizens. Every available type of transport was being used to leave the capital, and there was barely enough space to pass that which had already broken down. Dead animals littered the roadside. Horses lay with their feet in the air, dead either from attack from the air or just sheer exhaustion. Broken down vehicles littered the highway, their owners frantically seeking alternative means of escape. This was organised retreat? Suddenly, above the din, we heard the sound of fighter aircraft and then recognised the planes as Typhoons, not only that but our Senior British Officer made us aware that they were from his own squadron!!!
Within seconds the pilots began their attack on the fleeing troops and it was plain that we were not to be spared. The bus stopped, but our guards would not allow us to dismount and seek shelter.
They were armed and we were not but the S.B.O. took his life in his hands and hurled himself at the nearest guard who immediately dropped his rifle and, together with his colleague, left the vehicle. We helped one another off the bus and headed for farm buildings nearby. The pigs were hastily evicted and we took their places. The sty was strongly built and we felt a good deal safer. Three of the walking wounded decided that this was an ideal opportunity to attempt an escape.
I know for certain that one, Sgt. W. Durland was successful, for his story was told in the records of 514 Squadron which was my own squadron. I have not heard the outcome of the others who made the attempt. At last the aircraft broke off their attack and we were ordered to re-board the bus which was undamaged and we noticed that there was no Red Cross insignia, Squadron
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Leader Brannigan was not too sure that a red cross would have made very much difference to the attack, as the bus was slap in the centre of the fleeing convoy. Slowly we moved on again.
The damage reeked on the fleeing army was horrendous and one could only feel pity for the wounded and dying, as each person in the convoy seemed bent on one task - to reach shelter and perhaps safety. As the day drew to a close, we felt a little safer, for we were aware that fighter aircraft would not operate in the dark and bombers would be too expensive to use against targets such as a fleeing convoy.
It was quite dark when we drew into the suburbs of Venlo, but we now came under attack from Dutch citizens who thought that we were German soldiers being carried away from the front-line. Fortunately no great damage was done and at last we were deposited at a Convent near the centre of the town. Our first thought was, "When are we going to get something to eat?" and then we became puzzled as to why we had been taken to the very top floor of the Convent.
The second question was answered by the Mother Superior who informed us that the senior German officer in the town did not want the responsibility of looking after us, perhaps if we remained hidden on the top floor advancing German troops would pass us by. You will remember we had heard a similar tale before.
For four days we remained hidden. We had reasonable food and excellent facilities. Perhaps this time we would be recaptured. It was not to be. On the morning of the fifth day, one of our number decided to investigate the troop noises in the street below. Sadly his appearance on the balcony was noticed by the civilian population below. They waved and he acknowledged their greeting, but was spotted by a soldier who was passing by. It had to be a member of the S.S.! Within minutes, we were taken into the grounds of the convent and I believe that the others felt as I did, we were going to be executed !!! To our great relief, this did not happen. A few hours later we were put aboard railway wagons to be transported into Germany.
INTO THE THIRD REICH
At the railway station, we were kept strictly apart from the civilian travellers who were boarding trains for various parts of Germany, and we were ushered towards a row of cattle trucks standing in a siding. The doors at the side of the trucks were open and we could see barbed wire, which was stretched across the width of the truck separating the interior into two sections. On the left were a number of palliasses, and to the right a cast iron wood burning stove and three bunks. We realised that this was to be our mode of transport for the next leg of our journey.
The guards occupied the section with the stove and we were to travel in the other section, but where we were heading, no-one would tell us. We came to the conclusion that our trip was not going to be a long one, for there was no food or drink aboard. The doors slammed shut; we heard the locks on our side being closed and then we were on our way. There were eight of us, and three very old men acting as guards. It was very dark and the soldiers had no wish to converse just yet but as we moved into the countryside, we learned that the men were really "Home Guards" and were terrified of authority, and for some reason, equally terrified of us. We had been classified as dangerous prisoners!
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Uncomfortable as it was we gradually fell asleep, only to be woken up by a string of German oaths and the sight of one of the guards frantically trying to beat out the flames coming from his very long ersatz overcoat. He had got too near the stove, which was now glowing in the dark. His companions came to his aid, and soon all was quiet, except for the injured guard who was now afraid of his fate when he came to the end of his journey and would have to report the incident.
There was nothing we could do to help treat his burns, for we were separated from him by the barbed wire screen. As evening approached, the following day we pulled into a siding and the doors were opened. We had not travelled far as we could hear voices calling, "Dusseldorf!
Dusseldorf”- this was our destination.
We dismounted and after a few moments, our party was separated into two groups, the RA.F. to one side and the U.S.A.A.F to the other. The American section was put aboard a bus and immediately moved from the station. We never saw them again. As for us, we boarded a truck and moved out of the city. The journey to our destination did not take very long and we eventually stopped at a camp which we soon realised was a Workers Camp.
It was divided into four compounds, which housed French, Italian, Polish and Russian citizens who were forced to work in the locality. Our quarters were to be in the French section and a few hours after our arrival, we were allocated three Russian prisoners to serve our every need. It was not too long before we realised that there was a definite pecking order at the camp.
After the Germans, the French were the pampered race. The Italians came next, followed by the Polish inmates and a very very long way behind came the Russians. Germans did not stand guard over the Russian compound, they left that to the Polish group and the Russian group provided the guard for the Polish compound ! !
At this stage we found it very difficult to comprehend the attitude of the Germans towards the Russian and the Polish people, after all, we had not been subject to the rule of the Nazi regime, and as yet, had met none of the cruelty meted out to the races they, the Germans, had conquered. Not many days were to pass before we saw examples of such cruelty, and it was with disbelieve that we saw Russian captives digging holes in the ground, into which they placed their dead comrades.
At least the Polish dead were given a decent burial service, and had fellow countrymen saying a prayer or two at the graveside and in some cases, placing a small wooden cross to mark the spot where the internment had taken place. Why were there so many deaths among these two races? The Russian captives would be given food only if they carried out a day's work and this explained why they were so eager to be our "servants". The food we gave them was perhaps sufficient to keep them alive for a few days longer, and even to build up their strength to resume the work they were ordered to carry out for their German captors, so obtaining further rations.
It was so sad to witness the actions of these poor creatures when they scrambled for a cigarette end, a crust of bread or any other morsels discarded by us. They took enormous risks to find a hole in the barbed wire, through which they’d visit our quarters and offer to carry out the most menial tasks for a very meagre reward.
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Our next concern was more to do with ourselves, we seemed to be receiving rather a lot of French Red Cross parcels and the British parcels were turning up in the French section, but were issued to French workers. Really it was the shortage of English cigarettes and chocolate that triggered the enquiry.
The British Red Cross parcel was superior in every way to the French one, and the contents much greater in both calorific value and for the purposes of bartering. At the meeting we held with the French quartermaster, we discovered that the French believed that, as they were used as workers by the Germans, they were entitled to the better products in the British parcel. It must be noted here that Senior N.C.O.s and Officers were not obliged to work for the enemy and very rarely did so.
The plight of the other inmates in the camp was not considered by the French. The atmosphere was somewhat strained for the next couple of weeks and I think both sides were happy when it became known that the R.A.F. were to be moved on, again no hint of our destination was given. The day of our departure arrived and I was asked by the Medical Officer in the camp to forego my crutches and use sticks in future. With some hesitation I acceded to his request and was able to walk out of the compound.
We were ferried to the station at Dusseldorf and saw a city devastated by bombing. The majority of the workers in the repair gangs were women, and we discovered that these were Russian. They looked wretched. Armed guards surrounded the area in which they were working. Quickly we boarded the cattle trucks, which were similar to those in which we had travelled from Venlo.
This time there were no incidents. Eventually we disembarked at a town called Menningen in the district of Thuringia. Our home was to be in a beautiful Opera House, which had been stripped of its finery to accommodate large numbers of P.O.W.s.
The residents were for the most part captives from the Arnheim operation, but there were also many aircrew held in the wire compounds. Entertainment seemed to be the order of the day. Impromptu concerts seemed to take place daily, added to which was the opportunity to view a group of circus performers who were camped outside the fence. Somehow, they seemed to have dodged the call-up.
Food was of the highest quality, or maybe we were now becoming used to taste of ersatz; ersatz that was frequently embellished with the contents of Red Cross parcels. Almost daily the number of prisoners grew and it became obvious that some would soon have to be moved on, but no one really wished to go. Despite the overcrowding, the camp was reasonably comfortable. Perhaps this was because it was classed as a re-habilitation unit. It was with some regret that we took the journey to the station, there to board compartments of an ordinary passenger train but still guarded by Home Guards.
It was night time when we neared Frankfurt, and the train was diverted into a siding as an air raid was taking place on the city. We disembarked at around ten a.m., and as we left the platform, we were attacked by German citizens who wanted revenge for the raid which had taken place the previous evening. Who could really blame them? Our guards fixed bayonets and eventually drove
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the angry people away. Not all were happy to leave, and some followed the tramcar, which was to take us to the interrogation centre just outside the town. Bricks rattled against the coachwork.
Metal bars were used to smash windows, but our guards stuck to their task and we escaped without injury.
Chapter 5: STALAG LUFT 1XC KRAYSBURG
The dreaded DULAG LUFT !!! So often the subject of talks back in Britain. Here we could expect to be questioned on the activities of the R.A.F. and secret equipment of the Allied Forces. We had been instructed to provide only our Service number, Rank and Name and under no circumstances to enter into any discussion.
At once we were placed in cells which had only a bed on which was a straw palliasse, and by the door a device to attract the attention of the guards when the "Call of Nature" came. This gadget was used frequently so keeping the guards busy, they were not happy about this ploy to keep them on the move and the language they used to describe the prisoners was pretty choice. A childish prank but effective.
Messages in Morse code were tapped out on the walls between cells and on pipe work, but the contents were not within my knowledge of the Morse code even though the use of the code had been part of the navigator's course. Food was very poor. As the first day in solitary confinement drew to a close I realised that this was the first time I had really been alone since my capture, I was on my own.
There was no window in the room that I occupied, so I tried to get to sleep and to prepare myself for the interrogation I was to face very soon now. Would it be as testing as I had been led to believe back in England? The heat in the cell was overbearing and there was practically no ventilation, so it was no great surprise that I slept very fitfully and by morning I was not a very happy P.O.W.
The introduction to the camp was so weird. Between the entrance gate and the outer fence were a number of small wooden structures that looked exactly like dog-kennels, and each one of us was told to creep into one of these leaving our kit outside. There we remained for some time until ordered out again and told to retrieve the items that had been left outside. Next we were given a number and admitted into the main compound. The number was that of the barrack room we would occupy for the time we would be at the camp.
There was a reception committee and a barrage of questions about the progress of hostilities, but alas, there was little we could add to what they already knew for the majority, had been captured much later than we had. At last there was time to look around the room. It contained four sets of bunk beds, each with a paper palliasse filled with straw, supported by a few wooden boards. A small cupboard took up the space at the side of each set of beds. Near one wall was a cast iron stove with a chimney disappearing through the ceiling. Strung between the walls, were lines of string on which hung articles of clothing that had recently been washed. A shuttered window took
[page break]
up part of the remaining wall. It did not take long for me to be introduced to my room mates and to be advised which "mess" I would join.
Next I was told of procedures and the daily routine of the camp. In no time at all I was asleep. "Raus!! Raus!!" Such a banging and clattering, it was time to rise, dress and present our selves for roll call. What a motley collection! There we stood in ranks of five, lined up on three sides of the huge open square. German soldiers counted us five by five and informed the senior N.C.O. of the total number present. On a cold, bleak day this procedure lasted for no longer than 20 minutes but when weather conditions were good all sorts of pranks were played to keep the prison staff employed for anything up to two hours.
Each block was allocated a time for taking a shower-cold- and once each week there was the luxury of a hot shower if you managed to get a place at the head of the queue. On odd occasions clothes could be bagged and passed through a steam plant but this procedure was not popular as clothes tended to shrink so the cold water wash was the most sought after. The food we were served was appalling but we were informed that it was the same as that served to equivalent ranks in the German Forces, this was very difficult to accept and it made us eternally thankful for the extra items we received in the Red Cross parcels now regularly provided.
Perhaps it would be beneficial to mention what the parcels contained.
A British parcel would have in it basic items for providing nourishment, such as tinned bacon, tinned sausages, tinned margarine, dried milk, chocolate, prunes and a supply of cigarettes and other sundry items.
An American parcel would contain similar articles but the sausages would be replaced by Spam and there would be a larger tin of dried milk, the prunes would be replaced by raisins and in addition there would be toilet soap, much loved by the Germans and so very useful for trading purposes.
A Canadian parcel would be a mixture of the two, and parcels from France and the Commonwealth would generally be in a bulk delivery and passed to the kitchen for general use. The cardboard, string and empty tins were hoarded and used for many, many purposes. It was truly amazing what could be done by tradesmen who enjoyed practising their civilian skills in the re-cycling of tins etc.
Empty "Klini" tins were just the right size to fit the chimney of the stove and gradually the stove would be extended to-wards the middle or the floor so enabling more people to benefit from the heat generated, unfortunately, just when the stove had reached the centre, the German guards would organise an S.S. visit and not only the stove would be dismantled but many items were confiscated, and food that had been carefully stored, scattered and made quite unfit to eat. In retrospect it seems a futile pastime but at the time, it was a question of trying to outwit the enemy. Day by day the camp became an organised society. Rules of behaviour were drawn up and strictly adhered to, this was very necessary for the well being of all concerned.
Educational sessions became the norm and talks and lectures provided an additional interest for those not interested in studying for examinations, the results of which would be accepted on return
[page break]
to the UK Again materials and exam papers were provided by the Red Cross.
Entertainment was a must. Regular concerts were organised and again the inmates showed great prowess in making scenery and costumes from "bits and pieces".
News of the progress of hostilities was produced from I know not where, but there was a clandestine radio in use. Bulletins were issued on a daily basis, and of course, each new batch of prisoners was questioned on initial admission to the camp.
At the beginning of December, the weather changed for the worse. Snow fell and the temperatures dropped alarmingly. The walks which had been taken daily, now became runs but physical effort burned up energy and food supplies were not good, however, a supply of ice skates arrived, and soon work started on constructing a makeshift ice rink. The Canadians among us were overjoyed as gradually the rink took shape. Promises of skating lessons were made and for a few days hunger was forgotten.
Christmas would soon be with us and of course an entertainment to beat all previous efforts was to be produced.
A few days before these marvellous dreams were to become reality, there was the sound of aircraft overhead, not British, not German, but on closer examination, these were found to be Russian planes. What was happening? The news bulletins had said nothing of this but it now became obvious by the behaviour of the German troops that something was amiss.
We were ordered to leave the outdoor areas whenever an air-raid siren sounded. Sadly, one airman lost his life when he re-acted too slowly to this order. Perhaps the reader can imagine the tension that now built up within the camp. Few were brave enough to leave the barrack blocks and arrangements had to be made to ensure that those bringing food from the cookhouse were not made targets, should a raid occur on the journey. The number housed had been increased because places had to be found for new inmates that now included Glider pilots, victims of the raid on Arnhem.
Twelve bodies now filled the space previously used by four. It was essential that discipline was maintained and thanks to previous training , it was. A few days passed and the sound of heavy artillery was heard. There was little doubt that the Russian forces were not too far away. Were they aware that we were in the area? My mind went back to the advance on Brussels and the hope we had of being released. No promises were made this time. We received orders to gather our scant belongings together and prepare for a long trek to a camp within the German border. No transport would be available and the snow was still very deep. How would we survive? Makeshift rucksacks were made as were sleds that would carry food and equipment during the coming days. Some acted in groups but the majority elected to be responsible for their own future.
Christmas Day 1944. The gates of the camp were opened and we set out on our journey. The guards took up their positions either side of the column, thankful that they were not being left to face the advancing Russian forces. No longer were we the enemy, but a means of escape into the Fatherland.
[page break]
Not many hours had passed when we realised that civilians had joined the column. Old men, women and children, all striving to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the enemy. They were terrified that they would become prisoners of those who their own propaganda had warned were little better than animals. It was not long before mothers asked us to care for their children, and overnight, we found that we had been left with several young boys and girls, hoping that they would be safe with us. Obviously this was not possible, and at the first village we reached, we made provision for them to be transported by the German authorities. I often wondered what became of those children.
The greatest barrier we faced was at the River Oder. There was a town on our route -0ppeln- but we would not be passing through this town, but would walk across the frozen river. Now we were in Germany proper. The next stop on our journey would be the huge camp at Llamsdorf. This camp had been used as a camp during World War I. Now it was home to thousands of prisoners of every nationality where Germans had occupied the country of origin.
Chapter 6: LLAMSDORF AND BEYOND.
This camp filled me with foreboding. It was huge and the inmates looked so intimidating as they took their daily exercise. Gaunt figures in clothing which had seen better days, faces deeply etched showing that they had not had quite so comfortable a time as we who had just joined them. Many had spent several years in Llamsdorf and were looking towards the final days of captivity.
We soon learnt that although the appearances were poor there was still spirit and determination within the wire. The family atmosphere of Kraysburg was absent but the organisation necessary to provide a reasonable code of conduct was definitely in place. The quarters I was allocated were cold and damp; the only heating coming from the personnel living in the cramped space. Personal hygiene was not of a very high standard and the attitude of my companions bordered on hopelessness. My thoughts turned towards getting myself moved to some other section of the camp where life would not seem so dreary. I was not prepared for events of the next few days.
As at Kraysburg, a make shift open-air ice-rink had been constructed and tiered seating had been installed. Obviously not all had the same approach as my room-mates. Crowds gathered in the freezing air to watch an ice hockey game between a Canadian side and a side made up of various nationalities. It was exciting and many looked forward to further contests as well as using the rink simply for amusement.
I was granted my move, but after only a few hours, was ordered to pack what few possessions I had and join a group of sick and lame colleagues for onward transfer. Enquiries revealed that our small group was being transferred to yet another camp where we would be medically examined to determine whether or not we were suitable for repatriation. A couple of hours train journey took us to a camp specifically for army N.C.O's. The rest of the day was spent preparing ourselves for inspection when we appeared before the panel of Swiss Red Cross Medical Officers who would decide our future. Would I be repatriated? "No!" was the short answer but I would remain at the new camp. Here was a camp where 90% of the inmates had been captive since Dunkirk. The
[page break]
organisation was superb! Units in which I had been stationed back in the U.K. were not any better than this. I am sad to say that I cannot remember the name of this camp. Every inmate seemed to want to help the newcomer. Of course this could not last. This had been the story of my life for almost a year. The Russians were coming. This time I was able to ready myself for the next move. We were advised to gather in groups of four and to ensure that there was not more than one "Disabled" person in each group. When all was ready we evacuated the camp and set off to face what was to be a pretty horrific experience.
During the daylight hours we rested in pine forests or on farms on our route south. At night we walked and walked and walked. This arrangement was made so that our winding columns would not be mistaken for marching German troops and so become targets for any roving aircraft.
Whenever possible we would stock up on food. Crops would be raided and farmyard animals killed to provide sustenance for hungry mouths. I was appointed quartermaster for our small group mainly because I was not ruthless enough to carry out the pilfering necessary to sustain the four of us, whereas the others had become skilled in the art during the long years of working on German farms and in factories. I was most fortunate and shall be eternally grateful to my colleagues.
After several weeks of "marching" we arrived at a railway siding and were ordered to board cattle trucks for the next leg of the journey. Forty men and their equipment to each truck!!!! How degrading this was cannot be imagined. Toilet facilities were none existent and as each stretch of the journey was carried out during the hours of darkness, it was such a relief when dawn came and the doors to the truck were opened. Cold though the weather was, there was no hesitation should there be a stream nearby. The first task was to wash and prepare for the next night's journey. Now there was not a supply of Red Cross parcels and we relied upon the rations provided by our captors, these were very meagre indeed. Tempers frayed but astonishingly there was no pilfering of supplies.
After almost three weeks travelling back and forth across the operating rail system we came to a halt at a major railway station. PRAGUE! Much to our surprise we received hot soup from ladies who were the equivalent of the W.V.S. and we were allowed to draw water from the boiler of the engine to make tea (those who still possessed tea leaves), but sadly, our stomachs could not cope with the intake of potato soup and brackish water, many P.O.W's were very sick indeed. Another day passed and once again we journeyed along the rail system until there was just nowhere to go by rail.
Trucks were unloaded and prisoners and their guards set off over the countryside. At about this time the older guards were taken away to bolster the army elsewhere and their places taken by schoolboys enlisted in the Hitler Youth Movement. The situation was very delicate as the majority of these young boys were fanatical in their hatred of the enemies of the Reich. Time and time again they treated their prisoners cruelly and took little notice of the older members of the guard. On at least two occasions, prisoners were killed because of their failure to respond quickly to instructions from some youngster. When a batch of Red Cross parcels appeared there was increased tension as these were strictly for distribution to captives, and the new guards were
[page break]
loathe to hand the parcels over. Common sense prevailed and the daily routine continued. On and on we roamed unaware of our destination or indeed the final outcome.
An overnight stay at a camp near Munich, too crowded to receive any other bodies, simply helped to fix our position and to receive news of the progress of the war. A few more days and our section of the column was ordered to stay in a primary school building in the Austrian village of Kirschberg. Now we were in the American battle area. We settled into our new billet under the watchful eyes of the local population, and slept through the sound of gunfire and raiding aircraft.
Dawn broke and there was no sign of guards of any age. Walking out of the school I saw many inhabitants walking towards a church nearby and on enquiring whose feast day it was, I received the answer, " The war is over."
On the 7th May 1945 a troop of American soldiers appeared and gave the official news. They left sufficient food and other items to supply a small army. With great care born out of weeks of shortage, we divided the rations and prepared to be taken to an Allied base.
It was such a strange feeling to be free to wander where we pleased. There was an airfield at Strauben a few miles away and it was towards this that we headed, only to find that every aircraft had been destroyed and so were unfit for our use. Nothing for it, but to wait for the U.S. Army to return and arrange for us to be transferred the United Kingdom. The food we had been given was strange to us, the white, fluffy bread and real butter seemed to be so unappetising after the rough rations we had become used to.
Almost a week passed before an army truck arrived, and our journey home began. Our destination was the airfield at Rheims in France and on arrival, we saw several Lancasters with crews. These were to be the means by which we would finally make the journey home. Groups of ex- prisoners were allocated to each aircraft, told to hang on to anything they could and in a very short time we would land at an RA.F. base at Wing. Once again there was disappointment for my group. The Navigator for the aircraft had "gone missing". Wasn't I a Navigator? The pilot was quite prepared to trust my ability to map read until he could pick up radio contact. So, away we went and each occupant of the aircraft was allowed in turn to visit the flight deck and view the white cliffs of Dover as we approached England.
After landing at Wing we were escorted to a huge marquee where we suffered the indignity of being fumigated, given a cursory medical examination and then the luxury of a very hot shower. Almost three and a half stones lighter and almost unrecognisable from the person who had left on the disastrous trip to Aachen - I was home.
Chapter 7: FIFTY YEARS ON.
The next two years were somewhat confused. I was still a Navigator but, because of the injuries I had received, I was no longer considered medically fit to resume flying duties. Added to this the
R.A.F. had a surfeit of flying personnel, now that hostilities had ceased. What was I to do? I had no desire to serve as a member of ground staff. I chose to accept discharge.
[page break]
I attempted to contact the families of my crew but had little success. Only one person replied to my letters. It was to be some fifty years before contact was made and this came about in strange circumstances.
In 1990 I attended a Squadron Re-union at Waterbeach and was asked if I had any item which could be displayed in a Museum which was to be housed at the airfield, now the home of the Royal Engineers. I felt that my P.O.W. Idenitity Card would be of some interest among the stories and photographs of operational sorties. Little did I know that this exhibit was going to open up again the search for relatives of my crew! On the 27th October 1992, Mr. Clive Hill, who was the nephew of Clive Banfield, our Flight Engineer, visited the museum in his search for information concerning the flying career of his late uncle. As he was leaving the building he spotted the Identity Card and at once realised that, as only one 514 Lancaster did not return on the 11th April 1944, the person in the picture must be the sole survivor he had been trying to find.
Several letters and telephone calls resulted in a meeting being arranged at my home on 6th April, 1993. Contact was established with Bill Thackray in Australia, and soon family members of other crew members had been found. Despite all Clive's efforts, there was no trace of the Wireless Operator or the relief Navigator.
In May, 1995 Bill Thackray and his wife Hazel, travelled to Europe and spent some time visiting the War Cemetery where the six members of Lancaster LL639 were interred. They too visited the Museum and called on us at Worksop. It was possible for Clive to join us and, of course, I was able to enlighten them regarding the fateful night, 11th April 1944. Many relevant questions were asked and answered and it was resolved that we would be keeping in touch from that day forth. For the following two years, Clive continued with his research of the incident. He spared no effort in obtaining data regarding the incident and produced an account of the last hours of the aircraft and crew, finally drawing the whole story together in a highly illustrated book, "Investigation into the loss of 514 Squadron Lancaster II LL639 on 11th April 1944." His research had taken him to the village of Molenbeersel in Belgium where he met the remaining member of the Conen family who had been so kind to me and several others, who had witnessed the crash or had been young children at the time and heard the story from their parents.
Obviously the matter could not rest at that and soon arrangements were in hand to erect a memorial to ensure the incident would not be forgotten -
A site was cleared and the villagers built a structure to house a plaque concerning the event. The date for the dedication was set and Mrs. Hill (the sister of Clive Banfield), her husband, myself and my wife, Clive and Judith and several residents were present at the dedication. Nothing was too much trouble for the people of the area who were still full of praise for those who had released them from the strain of the years of the Second World War.
The friendship formed over that weekend has not been allowed to lapse. The inscription on the plaque reads:
THIS MEMORIAL WAS ERECTED AS A TRIBUTE TO:
[page break]
P/O N.W.F. THACKRAY PILOT RAAF
SGT. C.W. BANFIELD FLIGHT ENGINEER RAFVA SGT. R HUGHES WIRELESS OPERATOR RAFVR F/SGT. J.R. MOULSDALE AIR BOMBER RAAF F/SGT. C.H. HENN M.U. GUNNER RAAF
F/SGT. R.E BROMLEY R. GUNNER RAAF
WHO DIED WHEN THEIR AIRCRAFT - LANCASTER LL639 OF 514 SQUADRON RAF CRASHED AT THIS SITE ON 11 APRIL 1944 RETURNING FROM A
NIGHT BOMBING RAID TO AACHEN
ERECTED IN THE PRESENCE OF THE SOLE SURVIVOR SGT. E.L. HUMES NAVIGATOR RAF
AND MRS A.G. HILLSISTER OF THE FLIGHT ENGINEER
'NIL OBSTARE POTEST’ 11 JULY 1990
PRISONERS OF WAR 514 SQUADRON F/Sgt. J.D. ALFORD 2/12/43 BERLIN R.A.A.F.
F/O. S. BAXTER 3/8/44 BAL DE CASSON R.A.A.F. Sgt. A.J. BLACKSHAW 2/2/45 WEISBADEN
FALL J.M.J. BOIJRKE 21/1/44 MAGDEBURG R.C.A.F. F/Sgt. M.J. BOURNE 12/6/44 GELSENKERSCHEN Sgt. F.W. BROWN 11/5/44 LOUVAIN
Sgt. J. BREWER 21/1/44 MAGDEBURG F/Sgt D.R. BURNS 11/9/44 KAMEN
Sgt. G.H. BURRIDGE 2/2/45 WEISBADEN F/Sgt. F.J. CAREY 7/6/44 MASSEY PALAISEAU Sgt. J. S. CAREY 30/1/44 BERLIN
F/O J.E.S. CLARE 21/1/44 MAGDEBURG R.C.A.F. F/Sgt. J. CLARKE 7/6/44 MASSEY PALAISEAU Sgt. F. COLLINGWOOD MASSEY PALAISEAU Sgt. P.G. COOPER 12/6/44 GELSENKIRCHEN F/Sgt. H.J. COSGROVE 30/3/44 NUREMBERG
P/O A.B. CUNNINGHAM 11/5/44 LOUVAIN R.N.Z.A.F Sgt S. G. CUTTLER 21/1/44 MAGDEBERG
P/O H.G. DARBY 30/3/44 NUREMBERG F/Sgt G. DAVIS 20/12/43 FRANKFURT F/O K.D. DEANS 22/3/44 FRANKFURT
Sgt. E.G. DURLAND 12/8/44 RUSSELSHEIM
W/O W.E. EGRI 3/8/44 BOIS de CASSAN R.C.A.F.
[page break]
F/O F.J. EISBERG 21/11/44 HOMBURG Sgt. W.H. ELLIS 21/11/44 HOMBURG
F.O. M.S.C. EMERY 2/12/43 BERLIN F/O G.C. FRANCE 21/11/44 HOMBURG Sgt. R. GALLOWAY 2/12/43 BERLIN
F/Sgt E.F. GARLAND 28/7/44 STUTTGART R.C.A.F. F/Sgt. H. GILMORE 3/ 8/44 BOIS de CASSAN
Sgt. G.F. GOOD 11/9/44 KAMEN
F/Sgt R.L. GULLIFORD 30/1/44 BERLIN
F/Sgt. B.S. HAINES 18/11/43 MANNHEIM R.A.A.F F/Sgt A.D. HALL 30/ 3/44 NUREMBERG R.N.Z.A.F. F/Lt. G.H.D. HINDE 2/12/43 BERLIN S. Rhodesia Sgt P. S. HOARE 22/3/44 FRANKFURT
Sgt. G.M. HOLT 12/8/44 RUSSELSHEIM
F.O. P.J.K. HOOD 30/3/44 BERLIN F/Sgt. E.L. HUMES 11/4/44 AACHEN
T. Sgt. M.G. LANTHIER 30/3/44 BERLIN U.S.A.A.F.
P.O. LWC. LEWIS 7/6/44 MASSEY PALAISEAU Sgt. R.B. McALLISTER 23/4/44 BERLIN R.C.A.F.
F/Sgt. J.R Mc.CLENAGHAN 3/8/44 BOIS de CASSAN R.C.A.F. F/Sgt. C.G.E. McDONALD 30/3/44 NUREMBURG R.C.A.F. F/Sgt A. Mc. PHEE 30/3/44 NUREMBURG
F.O. W.D. Mc. PHEE 22/3/44 FRANKFURT R.C.A.F. F/Sgt. C.D. MEDLAND 21/5/44 DUISBERG
F/Sgt. J.E.MALONEY 23/12/44 BERLIN R.A.A.F Sgt. S.W. MOORE 2I2/45 WEISBADEN
F/Sgt K. MORTIMER 30/1/44 BERLIN Sgt. W. MUSKET 2/12/43 BERLIN
F/Lt. C. W. NICHOL 22/3/44 FRANKFURT F/O. R.J. RAMSEY 11/5/44 LOUVAIN Sgt. J.D. REID 3/8/44 BOIS de CASSAN
F/Sgt. R.J. RIGDEN 12/9/44 FRANKFURT
F/Sgt. A.J. ROBERTSON 30/1/44 BERLIN R.A.A.F. Sgt. G.F. ROBINSON 28/7/44 STUTTGART
F/O. K.S. ROBINSON 26/8/44 KEIL
Sgt. C.L. ROBINSON 11/9/44 KAMEN R.C.A.F. F/Sgt V.J. ROLLINGS 30/3/44 NUREMBURG Sgt. J. SCULLY 3/8/44 BOIS de CASSAN
Sgt. R.C. SIME 22/3/44 FRANKFURT R.C.A.F.
[page break]
Sgt. R.L. SMITH 21/11/44 MAGDEBURG Sgt. W.J. STEPHEN 21/12/43 BERLIN
F/Sgt. G.H, STROMBERG 7/6/44 MASSEY PALAISEAU Sgt. F.C. TOWNSHEND 22/3/44 FRANKFURT
P.O. C.O. TURNER 12/9/44 FRANKFURT F/Sgt. L.J. VENUS 21/5/44 DUISBERG
P.O. V.H.J.VIZER 21/1/44 MAGDEBURG F/Sgt. E.J. WALLINGTON 30/1/44 BERLIN Sgt. H.H. WICKSON 30/3/44 NUREMBURG F/O R.J.S. WILTON 30/3/44 NUREMBERG
F.O. D.A. WINTERFORD 11/5/44 LOUVAIN
F/Sgt R.J. WOOSNAM 7/6/44 MASSEY PALAISEAU
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
Just Another Story
Description
An account of the resource
Recalls joining the RAF as a flight mechanic in 1939 and then employed as a barrage balloon operator. Describes his subsequent selection for aircrew and training in London, St Andrews, Manchester and in advanced navigation at Dumfries. Next covers operational training on Wellington and beginning to crew up. Continues with conversion to Lancaster at RAF Little Snoring. Eventually posted to RAF Foulsham to join newly formed 514 Squadron which then moved to RAF Waterbeach. First flight on the squadron was 25 November 1943. Continues with description of life on the squadron and mentions operational flying through December 1943 and January to March 1944. Mentions first operation to Biarritz and operation to Nuremburg on 30 March 1944. Continues with account of being hit by anti-aircraft and set on fire on operation to Aachen. Describes bale out, injured leg, capture and time in hospital Writes of approaching allied troops and fighting and being transported by Germans to Venlo in Holland and then into Germany eventually to Stalag 1XC at Karysburg. Describes life and activities in camp and approach of Russian forces. Continues with account of long march back to Germany. Gives account of time at Stalag VIII-B Lamsdorf and preparations and journeys for repatriation. Tells of eventual liberation by United States troops and return to the United Kingdom. Continues with account of post war and getting in touch with relatives of his crew. Concludes with the building of a memorial in the village of Molenbeersel in Belgium and lists the members of his crew who died as well as prisoners of war from 514 squadron.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Essex
England--London
England--Bedfordshire
Scotland--St. Andrews
England--Manchester
Scotland--Dumfries
England--Norfolk
England--Cambridgeshire
France
France--Biarritz
Germany
Germany--Aachen
Netherlands
Netherlands--Venlo
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Bad Sulza
Poland
Poland--Łambinowice
Germany--Munich
Belgium
Belgium--Limburg (Province)
Germany--Nuremberg
England--Lancashire
France--Palaiseau
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1943-11-25
1944-03-30
1944-04-11
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
R Marsh
E Humes
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Twenty-six page printed document
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BHumesELHumesELv1
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
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
David Bloomfield
12 OTU
1678 HCU
514 Squadron
Air Observers School
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
bale out
bombing
bombing of Nuremberg (30 / 31 March 1944)
Botha
crewing up
Dulag Luft
flight mechanic
Gee
ground crew
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 2
memorial
military living conditions
military service conditions
navigator
Operational Training Unit
prisoner of war
RAF Bridgnorth
RAF Cardington
RAF Chipping Warden
RAF Dumfries
RAF Foulsham
RAF Heaton Park
RAF Little Snoring
RAF Waterbeach
RAF Wing
Red Cross
sport
Stalag 8B
strafing
the long march
Tiger Moth
training
Typhoon
Waffen-SS
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/407/7072/MAnsellHT1893553-160730-04.2.pdf
7da4110eec9ff2c3420a2ed45c0420d7
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
Ansell, Henry
Henry Ansell
H T Ansell
Description
An account of the resource
28 items. The collection concerns Sergeant Henry Thomas Ansell, DFM (b. 1925, 1893553 Royal Air Force) and contains his logbook, his release book, a school report, two German language documents and several photographs, his medals and other items. Henry Ansell served as a flight engineer with 61 Squadron and 83 Squadron Pathfinders.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Vicki Ansell and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-07-30
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. 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
Ansell, HT
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
School Report Book of Henry Ansell
Description
An account of the resource
A record of Henry Ansell's time at Plaistow Secondary School, West Ham from 15th September 1936 to 25th July 1940. Includes marks for each subject, attendance, height and weight.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Plaistow Secondary School
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1940-07-25
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One printed book with handwritten annotations
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
MAnsellHT1893553-160730-04
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
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--London
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940