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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2191/39804/BReidKReidKv1.2.pdf
28fabcdeccb529d543bf15aa641fb9c3
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Title
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Reid, Kathleen
Reid, K
Reid, Kathryn
Reid, Katy
Description
An account of the resource
92 items and a <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2219">sub-collection with thirty-seven poems/songs</a>. The collection concerns Kathryn (Katy) Reid (Royal Air Force) and contains memoirs, correspondence, poems and photographs. The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by David Stuart Miers Reid and catalogued by Nigel Huckins
Date
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2018-01-23
Publisher
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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.
Identifier
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Reid, K
Transcribed document
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
ONE W;A.A.F’S [sic] WAR
My Call up Papers had stated I was to report at Innsworth Camp on the 1st of January., Eager to answer the call, I arrived at a very unearthly hour in Leeds station, the day before. Railway Stations during the war were live theatre, all the comings and goings. the thousands of uniformed men and women struggling with their kit bags and rushing to catch a seat on a train filled to bursting. Then the sad goodbye’s heartrending and tearful, and the thrill of the reunions between loved ones. The Stations were always dimly lit, and always in a smoke screen from the Steam Train pouring out its billowing clouds of smoke, giving a cloak of mystery to the dramatic scene.
I was travelling down to Glousester [sic] with my current boy friend, who by happy coincidence was returning from leave to his aircrew training camp near Gloucester. My Father came with me to the station to wave us off, poor father, he a very shy man, was very concerned at my leaving for what he thought; would be a life full of evil temptations. He plucked up the courage to enquire of two Waafs on the station, If they were happy in the forces? Their replies of assurance did not entirely reassure him and it was with a sad countenance he bade me farewell.
The train was crowded standing room only, and we arrived in Gloucester, in the evening. Found the hostel where I had booked in for the night, said a sad farewell to my boyfriend, whose last instructions were ‘Arrive in camp as early as you can tomorrow, then you’ll be able to get out to meet me, by Boots in the high street, at 8 o’clock to go to the cinema.
I had read, that Hostels in America, frequented by ‘Gentlemen of the road, where they had to sleep leaning on ropes fastened from the walls, and I braced myself for the prospect of a balancing act or a rope trick.. so, it was with much trepidation, I entered to portals of the hostel and found ---=== Everything whitewashed, dazzling white walls, long polished passages. A mature lady in a white coat gave me a bristling business like welcome and without more ado, took me upstairs to a vast long room. Never had I seen so many beds,, this was better than ropes!!
In the room were seversl [sic] girls, in different stages of undress, confusion covered me I had never shared a room with anyone before. I rushed to a bed at the far end of the room, the farthest away from an occupied one, undressed in record time and dived under the top blanket, where I lay and shivered all night.
Outside the snow was falling, my one top blanket was no protection in the unheated vast barrack=likr [sic] rroom. [sic] Was this a baptism, for hardships to come? By morning light, I found I had been sleeping= or trying to --- on the top of three more blankets and two sheets. My first lesson --- Look before you leap!
09-00 the reveille for breakfast and after dining on porridge, baked beans on toast and tanned tea, I paid the magnificent sum of one shilling, for breakfast and my night’s lodging.
Tramping through the snow, now lying thick on the Gloucester streets, I caught a bus to Innsworth Camp, walked the long, long lane, traversed thousands of times before by raw recruits and reported with nervous apprehension to the Guardroom, guarded by two RAF armed police who informed me ‘I was she [sic] first recruit of the day and I must await the arrival of the WAAF orderly.,
I waited for what seemed an eternity, under the scrutiny of the RAF guards, I took a dislike to them then and I never had the pleasure of altering my opinion. The orderly eventually arrived, a homely looking [inserted] girl [/inserted] [deleted] weighedth [/deleted] a cheerful smiling face, How good it was to see a smiling face! With a friendly offering ‘To carry my bag’ she escorted me from the gates of freedom into the arms of captivity. I plied her with questions ‘What was Waaf life like?’ ‘Did she like being in the Waaf?’ Her answers were far from cheering, but worse was to come, In reply to my question ‘Will I be allowed out of the camp tonight?’ [deleted] weighed most heavily upon me [/deleted] ‘Once you are in here, you are here for weeks’
I felt a net tightening round me, I wanted to wrench my case from her hand and run back the way I had come, but my feet, as if oblivious to the desire of my mind, ontinued [sic] to follow her. We entered a long low room [deleted] xds [/deleted]. On a large trestle table, there was surely, all the steel collection of Sheffield,, thousands of knives, forks and spoons, my escort selected one of each and asked t
[page break]
[underlined] 2 [/underlined]
My escort asked if I wanted anything to eat. As I didn’t, I was then taken to a long row of wooden huts row upon row as far as the eye could see. They looked cold and comfortless, rising from the snow covered ground, black and bleak. Entering in, I found it as cold as it looked. The big black iron stove in the centre was unlit.. Down each side of the hut were 12 iron beds and stacked on them were grey blankets and three small square buff coloured mattresses. Biscuits they were called. I dumped my case on the bed nearest to the door and near to one of the few-all too few-windows, then sat down on the available seat … that of the iron spring mattress.
There I sat, shivering, until another new recruit joined me about lunchtime. Together we braved the unknown terrors of the cookhouse. It was a long low building with bare walls of a non-descript shade. Concrete floor ornamented here and there with scraps of food and pools of spilt tea. The tables were long and bare with backless wooden benches to sit by them. The eyes of all the girls already dining there seemed to be pinned upon US. Was this because we were the only ones still in civilian dress?
We nervously approached the Hot Plates. Now what do we do?. Suddenly a loud YELL behind us. “Take off your headgear when in the dining room”. We turn in terror to see a Corporal WAAF – Gosh we were in the presence of a veritable god!. And it was glaring at US!
We immediately doffed our offending winter headgear and grabbed a plate, holding it out to the girl behind the Hot Plate. She threw upon it with great vehemence, a spoonful of potatoes. We walk a few paces to another WAAF in a dirty overall and cap, she with the same GOOD GRACE, provided us with some watery cabbage and a few-very few-pieces of meat. THEN with a dull thud a piece of pudding is thrown on another plate. We balance them and retire to the further most table from the uniformed throng and start to attack our dinner.
Our fastidious tastes and stomachs, revolt at the food before us. We push the main course uneaten, to one side and begin to try to bombard the pudding. She who has tasted airforce boiled pudding can never forget it. If only it was worth its weight in gold!. We give up the task of trying to eat it as a hopeless one and deposit it down the holes provided for hopeless repasts and depart as hungry as before – declaring that we would NEVER NEVER eat such a meal …… by the next day we were only thankful to eat ANYTHING provided, we were so hungry.
I was later to learn of the hard work and long hours the WAAF’s in the Cookhouse had to endure. If anyone got a raw deal they did ….. so did we, sometimes at the receiving end.
By late afternoon the hut was full of girls, all shapes, sizes and variety from all walks of life. Everyone of us wrote letters home to say we had arrived safely and not to write back for a week. Talk about severing relationships – we all felt cut off and cut up by cruel officialdom.
At nine o clock we all marched, well tried, to a hanger at the farthermost part of the camp. In this huge hanger I felt the size of a fly. We were seated at long tables, provided with pencils and paper and were told by a WAAF sergeant that we were to have an intelligence test.
Feeling far from intelligent, tired by the events of the day and bewildered by so many people around me, we were given maths, english and psychology questions – the latter consisting of fixing squares with squares and circles with circles. Talk about putting a square peg in a round hole! .. A time limit was set. I looked around with great satisfaction to see others likewise nibbling at pencil ends and other eyes beside mine gazing at ceilings and walls seeking inspiration!. The cold walls gave cold comfort – my mental assets were frozen like me and I handed in my papers with great unsatisaction. [sic]
We were marched back to our huts through a Gloucester snowstorm to find that the sergeant in charge of the hut had lit a coke fire. Warmed at the thought we made up our beds in the approved RAF style – [inserted] Grey Blanket [/inserted] corners tucked under biscuits. – followed by a cold wash in a cold ablution block.. Ah those ablutions!. The memory of the odour in them lingers yet. I retired to bed, my troubled sleep broken by sobs from adjacent beds. My first day in the WAAF’S was over. What would tomorrow bring?
[page break]
COMPTON BASSETT
The next morning on parade at nine feeling smart and resplendent in our uniforms we began to shiver and became numb with cold – it was snowing hard. We were taken in charge by a WAAF corporal and put through our paces. The next four hours consisted of marching. Left right left right: about turn: saluting to the right: saluting to the left: eyes right eyes left: eyes crossed – well I felt mine were! My feet in strong flat shoes ached and my mind felt blank under the cross fire of orders directed from an outside source. Instead of choosing my own way I had to follow orders quickly and mechanically. This felt very strange but would have to be got used to which of course we did. After 6 weeks of “square bashing” we were fit enough to bash anything!
We had lectures on hygiene, health matters, social graces and smoking – the latter being a “filthy habit” the young WAAF Officer stressed. On going to her office to get a pass to the nearest town I noticed a cigarette dish brimming over with fag ends on the front of her desk. A case of “Do as I say not as I do”!
We did have a farewell concert. The Corporal who produced this fancied himself as a theatrical agent and chose the girls on a show of legs! We – the chosen ones – had to send home for our most glamorous gowns. Mine was backless but had a fancy jacket to wear over it. The producer insisted that I shouldn’t wear the jacket but I overruled him. I was too shy to wear a backless dress in front of an audience of airmen – how times have changed! Our efforts were noisily greeted – talk about audience participation! All light-hearted banter to close a chapter of our introduction to service life.
At the ‘passing out’ parade we had a splendid band playing all the popular RAF tunes. A very handsome young officer took the salute. My marching companion remarked ‘Doesn’t it make you feel proud’? I replied ‘I haven’t done anything to be proud of yet’! The handsome officer chose the prettiest girl in the parade to talk to – we felt rather proud as he had chosen a girl from OUR hut maned Margot Nunns. I wonder what happened to her? I’m sure she would be a success as she had started well!
[page break]
[deleted] 34 [/deleted]
[underlined] 5. [/underlined]
For a month we marched, had hygiene lessons and physical jerks. Every morning we arose at 6am and stood by the side of our beds to be inspected from head to toe by a WAAF Officer whose eagle eye missed …… nothing. We had vaccinations against typhoid and other diseases. I propagated against them to the other girls saying that I had read that we could refuse to have the injections. As we lined up with left arm bare for the needle, the WAAF orderly took a dim view of my stammering refusal to have the injection and gave me such a withering look as she said “Well if you refuse to have the injection and become ill we can refuse to look after you”. I then weakened and succumbed to her instrument of torture only to find that the other WAAFS had taken my advice and refused. I suffered more from my embarrassment about not practicing what I had preached to them, than from the needle!
Some of the girls – [deleted] about 18 in all [/deleted] [inserted] about 12 in all [/inserted] – had to queue at the tailors to have alterations to their uniforms. They had to wait a long time and this, along with the intense cold and the fact that they had just had their injections, had a depressing effect upon them. The result was I, and the other occupant of the hut, witnessed in all their entrances the same procedure. The door opened and a white face appeared. The owner of it staggered through the door and made an unsteady bee-line to her bed. And after throwing herself upon it burst into tears. After witnessing this monotonous behaviour 12 times, the afore mentioned witness remarked “Well if I didn’t know where I was I’d think I was in a lunatic asylum”. However my turn was to come. That night I was on fire picket duty. This meant reporting to a corporal sitting in a hut about half a mile away. I had to write my name in a registration book and under threat of a charge had to stay in my own hut all evening – so that in case of a fire I could put it out. We had one small – but none the less heavy-bucket in the hut and I was not sure what use this would have been in the event of a fire. In any case my legs were like jelly as a result of the earlier vaccination and I would not have been much use should an emergency have arisen. However I had to take the bucket to fill it with water. Staggering back with it into the hut I found the window between my bed and the next one – which I had opened before going out – had been closed. The cold and the injection must have befuddled my senses because this constituted a major tragedy and I howled myself to sleep
The next morning, with swimming heads and stiff arms, the order was to “March and Swing ‘Em”. She meant arms not heads although the latter would have perhaps have been kinder to me in my present state of mind [inserted] AFTER A MONTH OF [deleted] I [/deleted] ‘Square Bashing’ I felt I could bash anything. [/inserted]
[page break]
COMPTON BASSETT
After lunch we were marched through the rain to the Equipment Hanger. A huge place reminding me of a prison mailbag room – it smelt the same. I hasten to add that my visit to Armley Jail was to entertain prisoners with the concert party I belonged to! At the first counter we were issued with caps. The great coat came later. Then with an empty kit bag we filed past what seemed dozens of counters filling the kit-bag till it overflowed with items – knife fork and spoon; woollen hood; grey stockings; pair of flat shoes; 2 blue shirts; bloomers (passion killers); humbug striped pyjamas; gas mask; tin hat; WAAF hat; two skirts; 2 jackets; waterproof cape and identity card. I had to drag it along as the kit bag was as big as myself! It took a lot of manoeuvring on my part. At last we were in possession of every article His Majesty’s Government were please to give us! As we came out of the opposite end of the hanger it was with a sigh of relief to see lorries waiting to take us – and our burdens – back to our huts.
We couldn’t get back quick enough. Although tired and dispirited by the day’s events and not a little dampened by the eternal rain, we simply had to try on our uniforms! Mine fitted where it touched but I did not trouble about that! But I remember I put my collar inside my shirt neckband instead of outside and nearly succeeded in chocking [sic] myself. Conscientiously articles were marked with the ink provided – with name, number and date. Then lights out and sleep. Nature’s blessed curtain of peace descended upon us – yet not all of us as I still heard sobs from adjacent beds.
The next morning on parade at nine feeling smart and resplendent in our uniforms we began shiver and became numb with cold – it was snowing hard. We were taken in charge by a WAAF corporal and put through our paces. For the next four hours life consisted of marching. Left right left right: about turn: saluting to the right: saluting to the left: eyes right eyes left: eyes crossed – well I felt mine were! My feet in strong flat shoes ached and my mind felt blank under the cross fire of orders directed from an outside source. Instead of choosing my own way I had to follow orders quickly and mechanically. This felt very strange but would have to be got used to which of course we did. After 6 weeks of ‘square bashing’ we were fit enough to bash anything!
At the ‘passing out’ parade we had a splendid band playing all the popular RAF tunes. A very handsome young officer took the salute. My marching companion remarked ‘Doesn’t it make you feel proud’? I replied ‘I haven’t done anything to be proud of yet’! The handsome officer chose the prettiest girl in the parade to talk to – we felt rather proud as he had chosen a girl from OUR hut named Margot Nunns. I wonder what happened to her? I’m sure she would be a success as she had started well!
Then came the posting to a different station – BAWTRY HALL
[page break]
COMPTON BASSETT
We did have a farewell concert. The Corporal who produced this fancied himself as a theatrical agent and chose the girls on a show of legs! We – the chosen ones – had to send home for our most glamorous gowns. Mine was a backless but had a fancy jacket to wear over it. The producer insisted that I shouldn’t wear the jacket but I overruled him. I was too shy to wear a backless dress in front of an audience of airmen – how times have changed! Our efforts were noisily greeted – talk about audience participation! All light-hearted banter to close a chapter of our introduction to service life
Bawtry Hall in Norfolk was the next chapter. Dorothy and I arrived there in the rain and we were housed in the cook’s hut. The language upset Dorothy so much that she said in tears “Oh Katie what have we come to?” By the next morning we knew! The WAAF Officer gave us the task of cleaning the ablutions! “How good of the Air Ministry to send 2 girls to clean the station”. After three months Dorothy “escaped” to be the secretary to one of the top Brass in 1 Group and I escaped by the kindness of Sgt Spud – not a fitting name for a very beautiful and kind girl. She took me into a very large telephone exchange. I took an exam for this work and passed. One night I was alone on duty when Sqdrn Ldr. Sharp called into the exchange for a chat. I told him I hadn’t joined the force to become a switchboard operator. I wanted to be a radio operator with the planes and be where the action was. He promised that he would help me and soon afterwards sent me for just 2 weeks to RAF Grimsby (Waltham). I arrived on station to see beautiful Lancasters emerging from the mist. I fell in love with them – still am! After 2 weeks in the telephone exchange I asked Flt Lt Reece if he would let me stay. He said that he would be delighted to keep me. Then followed the happiest time spent on the happiest station where tragically death had dominion – but so had laughter, romance, happiness, humour and YOUTH.
The telephone exchange was small and sited in a hut. It was manned by one operator at night and two by day. Our Corporal Vera was lovely and really mothered us. She was also in charge of our Nissen hut – number 13. Belying the number it was a happy hut lying cheek by jowl with the wonderful Waltham Windmill. I practiced learning to cycle around the base of the Windmill – a bike was a necessity to get up to the operations station. It took me a long time to balance when getting on and off the bike When large vehicles bringing fuel and bombs to the base passed within a hair’s breath I used to throw myself and my bike into the ditch and then wait for a kindly passer by to hold the bike whilst I jumped back on
[page break]
COMPTON BASSETT
We did have a farewell concert. The Corporal who produced this fancied himself as a theatrical agent and chose the girls on a show of legs! We – the chosen ones – had to send home for our most glamorous gowns. Mine was a backless but had a fancy jacket to wear over it. The producer insisted that I shouldn’t wear the jacket but I overruled him. I was too shy to wear a backless dress in front of an audience of airmen – how times have changed! Our efforts were noisily greeted – talk about audience participation! All light-hearted banter to close a chapter of our introduction to service life
[inserted] THEN CAME THE POSTING – NO NOT BY MAIL! BY COINCIDENCE BEING YORKSHIRE GIRLS WE WERE POSTED TO YORKSHIRE [/inserted]
Bawtry Hall in [deleted] Norfolk [/deleted] was the next chapter. Dorothy and I arrived there in the rain and we were housed in the cook’s hut. The language upset Dorothy so much that she said in tears “Oh Katie what have we come to?” By the next morning we knew! The WAAF Officer gave us the task of cleaning the ablutions! “How good of the Air Ministry to send 2 girls to clean the station”. After three months Dorothy “escaped” to be the secretary to one of the top Brass in 1 Group and I escaped by the kindness of Sgt Spud – not a fitting name for a very beautiful and kind girl. She took me into a very large telephone exchange. I took an exam for this work and passed. One night I was along on duty when Sqdrn Ldr. Sharp called into the exchange for a chat. I told him I hadn’t joined the force to become a switchboard operator. I wanted to be a radio operator with the planes and be where ethe action was. He promised that he would help me and soon afterwards sent me for just 2 weeks to RAF Grimsby (Waltham). I arrived on station to see beautiful Lancasters emerging from the mist. I fell in love with them – still am! After 2 weeks in the telephone exchange I asked Flt Lt Reece if he would let me stay. He said that he would be delighted to keep me. Then followed the happiest time spent on the happiest station where tragically death had dominion – but so had laughter, romance, happiness, humour and YOUTH.
The telephone exchange was small and sited in a hut. It was manned by one operator at night and two by day. Our Corporal Vera was lovely and really mothered us. She was also in charge of our Nissen hut – number 13. Belying the number it was a happy hut lying cheek by jowl with the wonderful Waltham Windmill. I practiced learning to cycle around the base of the Windmill – a bike was a necessity to get up to the operations station. It took me a long time to balance when getting on and off the bike When large vehicles bringing fuel and bombs to the base passed within a hair’s breath I used to throw myself and my bike into the ditch and then wait for a kindly passer by to hold the bike whilst I jumped back on
[page break]
Bawtry Hall in Yorkshire was the [deleted] next chapter. [deleted] [inserted] First posting you are asked where you would like to go – but rarely sent there!! As we were Yorkshire girls we didn’t mind Bawtry Hall Sounded nice [deleted] [indecipherable word] posting [/deleted] [/inserted] Dorothy and I arrived there in the rain and we were housed in the cook’s hut. [deleted] The [/deleted] [inserted] Their [/inserted] language upset Dorothy so much that she said in tears “Oh Katie what have we come to?” By the next morning we knew! The WAAF Officer gave us the task of cleaning the ablutions! “How good of the Air Ministry to send 2 girls to clean the station”. After three months Dorothy “escaped” to be the secretary to one of the top Brass in 1 Group and I escaped by the kindness of Sgt Spud – not a fitting name for a very beautiful and kind girl. She took me into a very large telephone exchange. I took an exam for this work and passed. [inserted] [symbol] [/inserted] [inserted] [symbol] many months later [/inserted] One night I was alone on duty when Sqdrn Ldr. Sharp called into the exchange for a chat. I told him I hadn’t joined the force to become a switchboard operator. I wanted to be a radio operator with the planes and be where the action was. He promised that he would help me and soon afterwards sent me for just 2 weeks to RAF Grimsby (Waltham) [inserted] [symbol] [/inserted] [inserted] [symbol] reminding me it was only for 2 weeks [/inserted]. I arrived on station to see beautiful Lancasters emerging from the mist. I fell in love with them – still am! After 2 weeks in the telephone exchange I asked Flt Lt Reece if he would let [inserted] me [/inserted] stay. He said that he would be delighted to keep me. Then followed the happiest time spent on the happiest station where tragically death had dominion – but so had laughter, romance, happiness, humour and YOUTH!
The telephone exchange was small and sited in a hut. It was manned by one operator at night and two by day. Our Corporal-Vera-was lovely and really mothered us. She was also in charge of our Nissen hut – number 13. Belying the number it was a happy hut lying cheek by jowl with the wonderful Waltham Windmill. I practiced learning to cycle around the base of the Windmill – a bike was a necessity to get up to the operations station. It took me a long time to balance when getting on and off the bike When large vehicles bringing fuel and bombs to the base passed within a hair’s breath I used to throw myself and my bike into the ditch and then wait for a kindly passer by to hold the bike whilst I jumped back on it!.
When I was first on duty in the telephone exchange lots of aircrew came in to ‘look me over’ but as they thought I only looked 14 they soon ceased calling sad to report!
The duty that I did not enjoy was on operational nights. We had orders to listen in for aircrew calling their girlfriends to sadly inform them that their date was off and why. We had to pull out the plug on these calls. I knew why there was a necessity for doing this but I always felt guilty and sad about it. They couldn’t phone from the village phone box as it was wrapped in coils of thick rope and guarded by a policeman. I later discovered that Aircrew had a way of getting around these restrictions. They would borrow a bicycle and cycle to the next village to ring from the phone box there – with no ropes and no policeman to prevent access! Foolish perhaps putting their lives and those of other aircrew in danger – but love always finds a way!
The Group Captain used to call in to see us – he was kindly and friendly as were all the pre-war Officers. When the Sqdn Ldr discovered that I was waiting for the RT/DF course at Cranwell he said “Half Pint” (my nickname for being the smallest WAAF on the station) after keeping you here from Bawtry Hall it breaks my heart to loose you but I’m sending you up to Flying Control so that you will be proficient before the Cranwell course”. I was but that’s another story. [inserted] The weeks flew by I could’nt [sic] have been happier. I loved my work though our losses were many saddened us. [/inserted]
[page break]
Bawtry Hall in [deleted] Norfolk [/deleted] [inserted] YORKSHIRE [/inserted] was the next chapter. Dorothy and I arrived there in the rain and we were housed in the cook’s hut. The language upset Dorothy so much that she said in tears “Oh Katie what have we come to?” By the next morning we knew! The WAAF Officer gave us the task of cleaning the ablutions! “How good of the Air Ministry to send 2 girls to clean the station”. After three months Dorothy “escaped” to be the secretary to one of the top Brass in 1 Group and I escaped by the kindness of Sgt Spud – not a fitting name for a very beautiful and kind girl. She took me into a very large telephone exchange. I took an exam for this work and passed. One night I was alone on duty when Sqdrn Ldr. Sharp called into the exchange for a chat. I told him I hadn’t joined the force to become a switchboard operator. I wanted to be a radio operator with the planes and be where the action was. He promised that he would help me and soon afterwards sent me for just 2 weeks to RAF Grimsby (Waltham). I arrived on station to see beautiful Lancasters emerging from the mist. I fell in love with them – still am! After 2 weeks in the telephone exchange I asked Flt Lt Reece if he would let me stay. He said that he would be delighted to keep me. Then followed the happiest time spent on the happiest station where tragically death had dominion – but so had laughter, romance, happiness, humour and YOUTH.
The telephone exchange was small and sited in a hut. It was manned by one operator at night and two by day. Our Corporal Vera was lovely and really mothered us. She was also in charge of our Nissen hut – number 13. Belying the number it was a happy hut lying cheek by jowl with the wonderful Waltham Windmill. I practiced learning to cycle around the base of the Windmill – a bike was a necessity to get up to the [inserted] [symbol] The long white road. [/inserted] [inserted] [symbol] SITE [/inserted] operational [deleted] station[/deleted] [inserted] site [/inserted]. It took me a long time to balance when getting on and off the bike When large vehicles bringing fuel and bombs to the base passed within a hair’s breath I used to throw myself and my bike into the ditch and then wait for a kindly passer by to hold the bike whilst I jumped back on [inserted] IT. [/inserted]
When I was first on duty in the telephone exchange lots of aircrew came in to ‘look me over’ but as they thought I only looked 14 they soon ceased calling sad to report!
The duty that I did not enjoy was on operational nights. We had orders to listen in for aircrew calling their girlfriends to sadly inform them that their date was off and why. We [deleted] then [/deleted] had to pull out the plug on these calls. I knew why there was a necessity for doing this but I always felt guilty and sad about it. [inserted] [symbol] [/inserted] [deleted] In addition [/deleted] the village phone box [inserted] [symbol] They couldnT [sic] phone from the village phone box as it was wrapped in coils of thick [deleted] wire [/deleted] rope [/inserted] was wrapped in coils of thick rope and guarded by a policeman. I later discovered that Aircrew had a way of getting around these restrictions. They would borrow a bicycle and cycle to the next village to ring from the phone box there – no ropes and no policeman! Foolish perhaps putting their lives and those of other aircrew in danger – but love always finds a way!
The Group Captain used to call in to see us – he was kindly and friendly as were all the pre-war Officers. When the Sqdn Ldr discovered that I was waiting for the RT/DF course at Cranwell he said “half Pint” (my nickname for being the smallest WAAF on the station) after keeping you here from Bawtry Hall it breaks my heart to loose [sic] you but I’m sending you up to Flying Control so that you will be proficient before the Cranwell course”. I was but that’s another story.
[page break]
CRANWELL
Bernard had carried my kitbag up the long White Road to where the station transport was waiting for me. He looked forlorn and lonely and my heart ached for him. But with a cheery “I’ll see you at Christmas” I waved farewell and kept waving until he was out of sight.
Arrived Cranwell by station transport at 1pm. The winter winds blow hard across the lovely Lincolnshire countryside – the leafless trees unable to stop them. Cranwell in December is cold enough to freeze a brass monkey. After waiting a year for the course I would die for – if absolutely necessary. On arrival I was billeted in one of the huts that had previously been allocated to married Air Force families during peacetime.
I shared the downstairs room consisting of a kitchen, bathroom and bedroom with 2 other WAAFS on the course. One Scots girl (Ann from Paisley) who had the fiercest temper which occasionally I had the misfortune to being on the receiving end of and a London girl called Tony. They were in situ first and so had arranged their beds nearest to the fireplace! The fire had to be refuelled in the evenings with sticks and brush wood found around the camp as there was a fuel shortage – the coal ration soon ran out. Wood gathering was supposed to be a united effort but depended solely on me! There was an old fashioned copper boiler in the kitchen for heating the bathwater but with the scarcity of fuel we had to contend with cold showers!
The furniture was Spartan. Three iron bedsteads and two hard chairs. Also a wooden box for a locker. Food was provided in the mess hall. There were vans arriving at different times of the day to provide refreshments. The Catholic van was the most expensive and the Church Army the cheapest – and the most popular because of the prices. Refreshments were very welcome on the cold days we were experiencing.
The next day we were shown over the camp by a WAAF corporal. We had a look inside Cranwell College and the large room we would occupy. It was just like school – blackboard; school desks and no heating! I was then enrolled on the RT D/F course with about 30 other girls. The following day we all met again after marching in squads to the cookhouse. Lanterns were carried at night to avoid being run over by passing traffic in the dark
As Cranwell classrooms were large and cold we sat at our desks wearing greatcoats and gloves – even the lecturers wore their outdoor attire. Towards the end of the course two months later some of us had chilblains on feet and hands.
Our instructors were CPL Metcalfe (a kindly middle aged man) and CPL Gallagher – a Scot from Glasgow. Both men in civilian life had been teachers. They were excellent instructors. For a Limey like me the accent of CPL Gallagher had to be listened to very carefully to understand what he was saying. He spoke with his mouth virtually closed and I often wondered why. During the late 1960s I worked as a teacher in the Gorbals district of Glasgow. I came to the conclusion that Glaswegian mouths are not opened too wide because of the strong winds that blow through the city!
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It was a crash course of 8 weeks and included physics; electricity/OHMS law; principles of the internal combustion engine; compression; induction power and exhaust; morse and aldis lamp practice; R/T AND D/F direction finding. In the hanger – draughty and colder than the classroom – we were instructed in wiring; soldering and VHF short range. We were instructed by a civilian technical teacher and for me it was the hardest part of the course – not being at all practical. This instructor will be remembered for his opening words which were always the same and appealed to our sense of humour. “Now girls – always remember first of all to Tin your irons”. I had waited for this course and I was determined to pass it. I was so anxious to qualify that I studied all of the time. As a result I did not learn about – or make use of – the stations social amenities. When I was not studying I went into the nearby wood to collect twigs and branches to keep the fires going – a fire that I could rarely enjoy as the two other WAAFS commandeered the chairs by the small fireplace when they were not out enjoying the night life of Cranwell. I was really scared of the Scots girl’s fiery temper. I think I was resented because I was keen to study and they weren’t. It was a sad and lonely time and so cold the greatcoat was a blessing as it served as an extra blanket at night as a defence against the cold
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CRANWELL
Cranwell was isolated from the world. There were no newspapers; no news reports. We were instructed that if we heard an aircraft take off with an unusually sounding engine we were told not to talk about it to anyone. I later learned that it was the jet engine being tested
I can’t quite remember but I think it must have been because of a lack of fuel that we were moved from a downstairs room. I was given an upstairs flat to myself. My ex room-mates appeared to regard Cranwell as an opportunity to improve their social life. There were many foreign men on the station – especially Poles whose reputation did not enhance for me their attraction. I’m sure that some WAAFS will have failed the course due to their choice of priority!
The Church Parade was a very important occasion for His Majesty’s Forces. At Cranwell it was held every Sunday. One Sunday we assembled on the square in front of the Church as usual. After standing for what seemed hours with a wintry gale blowing right through us we were the last unit to enter the church. There was some grumbling amongst us about how cold we were – but nothing more. However the following Sunday morning no WAAFS turned up for the parade. I swear that there had been no conspiracy or consultation. We were all in the same frame of mind having been very very cold.
Pandemonium and a rude awakening for us! NCO’s began rushing around the WAAF’s quarters, banging on doors and shouting our names. We were hauled from our beds – all 200 of us – and told to report with full kit to the Admin Office. We were eventually charged to report with full kit every hour every day for a fortnight to the Office. We were also allocated evening cleaning work and confined to camp. The NCO’s (admin) were very cross because they had to do all the supervising – and they were also therefore confined to camp! WAAF Officers heads must have rolled too.
By the end of the fortnight Cranwell had never been so clean. But someone must have felt a little sorry for the way in which we had to face the wintry blast as we were never instructed to attend again!
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I was pleased with my test results from Cranwell
1st Test TEC 75 percent
PROC 93 percent
2nd Test TEC 81 percent
PROC 80 percent
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1.
L.A.C.W. Kathryn Reid (Nee Kathy Myers)
W.A.A.F, No. 473650. R.A.F. Oulton 1944.
After training at Cranwell as R/T.D/F Operator, I was posted to Sculthorpe, I had already had experience in this work at R.A.f. [sic] Waltham with 100 Squadron, and was hoping to go back there, as it was such a happy station, but instead of Lincolnshire, I was posted to Norfolk.
After a few months at Sculthorpe, the Station was closed. It was no longer Operational because the runways were in such a bad state of disrepair, the result of the many sorties that had been undertaken from this Station, under the leadership of the very famous fighter pilot, Group Captain Pickard D.S.O. .D.F.C.., This was the reason given to us when we were all moved, British and American personnel to Oulton.
As the whole camp was being moved, I can’t remember the reason why three of us from Signal Section, were dumped from a Station transport on to a deserted Norfolk lane one morning in March. We were quite lost in the endless Norfolk lanes, criss-crossing the chequered countryside --- no signposts of course. We stared across the flat monotonous landscape, hoping for a glimpse of grounded planes and strained our ears for the sound of revving engines --- but all in vain.
The reflection of the white surface of the lanes in the glare of the midday sun tore at our eyeballs -- the pangs of hunger tore at our senses and the heavy unwieldly Waaf shoes. tore at our heels, leaving our flagging feet, sore and blistered --- and always there was the fear that we were just going round in a circle, as people in desert places are reported to do and we would arrive back at our desolate starting place.
Three more sorry specimans [sic] of homeless, hungry and unhappy Waafs could not have been found in any English lane that day --- if there had been a living soul to find them! but the landscape was quite devoid of human life and it seemed as if we three, were the only ones left in the whole wide world.
With the coming of evening, the sinister silence was at last broken by the sound of aircraft engines, revving up to race across the North sea. We staggered towards the sound and found --- at long last --- the Oulton technical site -- complete with cookhouse! We sat or rather fell down to the festive board to a repast surpassing the food of the Gods --- a supper of burn’t [sic] beans and cold tanny tea.
The Americans were billeted near the technical site -- the best site -- and had their own cookhouse. Their food and their living quarters were good, even their uniforms were made of excellent material. We Waafs were housed in Nissen huts by the lake, a picturesque spot, but, after snow or heavy rain, the huts were often flooded ankle deep! The Aircrew, [deleted] I think [/deleted] were billeted at the far side of the lake or in the Hall. The far side of the lake was out of bounds to us.
[inserted] It was several miles it was in the opposite direction of our billets & after night duty we were often too tired to cycle there [/inserted]
As we Waafs had a long cycle ride to the cookhouse to get our meals, after night duties, we were too tired to go for them. With the result a notice appeared on D.R.O’s that ----- ‘Any Waafs reporting sick and found to be suffering from malnutrition, would be put on a charge’ Our meals were not good, one of the girls was advised by her father, a doctor, to tell us to put plenty of sauce, of any variety or quality on our food to obtain some nourishment, this we did. They helped to camouflage the beefburgers and [deleted] corn [/deleted] [inserted] corned beef [/inserted] beef that were monotonously served up to us.. The bread was thick and sometimes of uncertain age, the jam more sugery [sic] than fruity, The tea, like washing up water --- oh yes the duty officer used to come round regularly to our ‘festive board’ but complaints were few, we knew it was useless [inserted] [deleted] They fell on deaf ears [/deleted] [/inserted] to do so and at least we had food and it was – wartime.
After emerging from the cookhouse, [deleted] we used to [/deleted] [inserted] We as usual dangled our irons [/inserted] dangle our ‘irons’ – knife, fork, spoon and mug into a tank of greasy water, that was situated by the door, then having waved them in the air to dry them, we mou nted our bicycles and cycled to duty or back to our Waaf site.
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[underlined] 2 [/underlined]
Our mail was opened and censored. One parcel I sent home to my parents containing fruit etc; that I had purchased from a neighbouring farm, when delivered, had gained an Airman’s sock!. One Waaf friend in Meteorology, had written a graphic account to her parents, of the exotic food that had been especially flown in from abroad, for a high ranking Officers party. This letter resulted in her being brought before the Waaf Officer, who gave her a severe warning not to repeat this performance, or she would be put on a charge. The letter of course was destroyed.
The Americans used to get upset at the slow mailing system and classed it as ---- Stagecoach --- They were very friendly and charming and treated us with respect. I cannot speak too highly of them, especially of one; Sgt: Ford Killen, who became a lifelong friend.
The R.A.F. Aircrew, also from Sculthorpe, were being converted from Stirlings, to fly American aircraft at night. They had suffered terrible losses on Stirlings and the strain of this showed. The American crews were operational during the daylight hours. Although we in Flying Control liaisoned [sic] with them, they had their own Signal section, to control their aircraft landings and take off. I was told, that, after a bombing run, returning American pilots were directed to land by personnel, instructing them from an aircraft over the Drome! In our Flying control, we had the duty of course to listen out for all aircraft in our radio range and many an American Pilot calling ‘DARKY’ becaues [sic] he had lost his way over Norfolk, was helped by us, to find it again!.
It was truly an awesome sight, to see the great mass of American aircraft, filling the Norfolk morning skies as they passed overhead on their daily bombing runs. One morning there was a mid--air collision and many of the crews parachuted safely on to our Drome --- It did look at the time, rather like an invasion!
In May 1944, B19 Flying Fortresses of 214 Squadron, with a detachment of the 8th Air Force, No 803 Squadron; were engaged in various radio Counter measures. Jamming the enemy’s radio transmissions on a variety of wavebands. The V 2 Rockets and the Big Ben Jostle etc. All aircraft was fitted with this equipment. It was found that the B 24 Liberators were better suited to the working of this. Until we learned of this important radio work. we had wondered why, every American aircraft, when grounded on the Drome, had an armed guard, day and night. Their first daylight mission was on the third of June and their first night’s operation, a few night’s later, in support of D. Day. landings.
I was on duty in Flying Control the morning of D. Day. There was a lot of aircraft activity, but we were unaware of the reason for this, until much later. I remember an American Sgt: enquiring of me if our signal controls were working alright, as their important signals weren’t. He was rushing around very upset indeed,
Our night duties were of 12 hours duration, if there wasn’t any flying I was on duty alone. ‘listening out’, the Flying Control Officer would be on call if needed. Compared to my night duties at Oulton, when 100 Squadron was taking part in their nightly bombing raids, duty at Oulton was quieter and less traumatic. We occasionally got ‘intruders’ German fighter planes, straffing the Drome. It was dramatic, to see from Flying Control, strands of their gunfire criss-crossing the Airfield like jewelled ribbons. The action always happened too quickly to alarm me, and their fire, caused no damage to men or machines the times I witnessed this. But the problem was, that our aircraft, if waiting to land, had to be diverted away from the Drome. No small problem, if they were short of fuel, as was often the case. [inserted] – they always seemed to have the minimum of fuel for their Bombing raids. This fact we always felt sorry for the Aircrew as it often meant a difference between life and death [/inserted]
[inserted] we had to divert them away from the Drome [/inserted]
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3
In the following 3/4th of March, a large force of 100 enemy intruders attacked returning aircraft over Norfolk Airfields. At Oulton, a B17 from 214 Squadron was shot down near the Station sick quarters and only two gunners escaped.
The girls in Signal and Met: Sections, because of their night duties, were usually accommodated, in the same huts. At Oulton, we were all in Nissen hut 13. I remember some of the girls there --- Jean Anderson, Louise Simmons, Renie Saunders, Ann Cross, Daphne Verbeke, Joyce, Yvonne and Margaret. The Nissen hut housed about 12 girls, we took it in turns to keep the place tidy, Thursday night was ‘Domestic night’ followed by an Officer inspection on Friday. We also had to take our turn to light the ugly coke stove, in the centre of the hut. This to me was almost an impossible task and I spent hours coaxing the coke and twigs of wood, to inflame. Coke was often in short supply, so being the smallest Waaf in the hut, I had occasionally to creep into the ‘coke hole’ to steal some.
I remember the croaking of hundreds of frogs after rain, carpeting green our pathways, roads and lanes, also the large number of rabbits on the camp. The wonderful trees and the beautiful lake, that had been out of bounds, but in May the ban was lifted. Also we were given permission to wear, when off duty, civilian clothes. Not many of us took advantage of these concessions. [inserted] We had lived too long in our uniforms & [deleted] were [/deleted] we were proud of them & we’d no coupons for glad rags! can’t remember even window shopping in Norwich gazing at lovely dresses made one feel nostalgic would we ever wear again pretty dresses girls yearn for – anyway shopkeepers in Norwich only seemed to stock swords – how the Americans loved them. [/inserted]
Blickling Hall was out of bounds to us --- we would pass by and admire it, but never set foot in it. I think Officers were billeted there and Dominion air-crew. I did hear a rumour of one of the Canadians, falling from an upstairs window and breaking his leg.!
Off duty, we were allowed 24 hours leave every month. We used to cycle to Norwich and stay overnight at the Y.W.C.A. near the Cathedral. There were plenty of entertainments for the Forces. Dances and Concerts. I remember going to see a performance by the singer ‘Hutch’ and how, between his songs, he mopped his brow with great affectation! I remember too, on my first cycle ride to Norwich with my American friend Ford, we got lost and had to find our way across the big American airfield Horsham St Faith --- Of course we were stopped by a convoy of Service police, but when we showed our identity, they kindly -- but quickly, escorted us to the nearest exit!
With the girls from the Signal and Met: Sections, we spent leisure hours cycling -- how quiet the roads and lanes were, perfect for this activity. We cycled to Sandringham and found the little church there, decorated with yellow Spring flowers, making a glorious golden glow. We often visited the Slipper Chapel, that too was always decorated with flowers. I remember a Cafe near there -- a village house with the front room converted into an eating place. The lady of the house apologised because she couldn’t give us a hot luncheon, ‘But would we mind making do with an egg?’ We enjoyed the meal she kindly placed before us, a splendid repast of [inserted] 2 [/inserted] eggs and ham, followed by plums and custard, a rare feast for eyes and stomach!
I found Norfolk people very kind and friendly. The best friend to us on the Station, was ‘Mother Riley’ She and her family, owned the grocers shop in Cawston and kept open house to us all. Making us welcome with wonderful meals, and also inviting Aircrews and their wives to spend their leaves there. I sometimes attended the little Chapel in the Village with ‘Mother Riley’ we all caller her that. [inserted] – [deleted] not because [/deleted] she [deleted] had [/deleted] [inserted] did not have [/inserted] the slightest likeness to the thin popular variety character Mother Riley but because she was a Mother to us all who were fortunate enough to know her. [/inserted] On Sunday evenings we used to have a sing-song round her piano, especially good when Welsh [deleted] singers [/deleted] [inserted] RAF boys from the station joined us [/inserted] joined us.
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4
There were dances in Cawston, but they were rather overcrowded for dancing. The Americans held one dance on the Station, I was invited to go, with a very nice boy called Robin, I didn’t really know him, but enjoyed his company and the dance. I would have enjoyed it more with my friend Ford had he asked me first, but he, disappointed that his invitation came too late -- boycotted it. We, on the Station, never shared in the good food the Americans enjoyed and even on this festive occasion, we did not get [deleted] even [/deleted] a taste of their icecream, [sic] We were invited, however, to an American celebration dance in Norwich. We had transport there and on arrival, were each given a rose -- made one feel very feminine. No one danced, because, surprise, surprise, the band was Glen Millers. He was conducting of course, making the evening wonderful and unforgettable.
One night a play was performed by an all American cast -- very glamorous the Actresses were. We had entertainments with audience participation, such as Any Questions, Quizes [sic] and Musical evenings and films. ‘Mutiny on the Bounty’ and ‘[deleted] A [/deleted] Chip off the old Block’ and there was always fish and chips in Cawston and a shandy at the ’Rat Catcher’!
While on the subject of leisure and entertainment, I must record, that I cycled to Nelson’s birthplace and was impressed by the sight of the cobweb remains of his victory flags in the church there. I’ll always remember too, the sight of the white ghostly fens, stretching out as far as the eyes could see, into the misty coast line, Cromer was out of bounds, but I got a special pass to go there and found it very shabby and sadly in need of paint. Barbed wire was everywhere covering the beaches, where hundreds of troops, young and not so young, [inserted] X Many seemed quite middleage. They had obviously seen military action before were training in readiness for the D Day landings. I felt heartsick for them. Visiting the Broads, I enjoyed a short sail, a change from cycling! Norfolk seems flat until you cycle there, then you soon find out it isn’t. [inserted] with an American who had kindly invited me to share his rowing boat! He [deleted] was ]/deleted] was so busy rowing his [deleted] kept his han [/deleted] hands were well occupied! [/inserted]
When any of the American airmen were carpeted for an offence, the whole American camp was confined to Barracks. This caused quite a few difficulties as regarding arranging to meet our friends. Also, as the camp was so big and scattered, communications were almost non-existent. The American [inserted] RAF [/inserted] and Raf camps being out of bounds. We Waafs were well disciplined to obey rules and regulations, with the result, we often had to wait for our American friends to turn up for a date, sometimes, from no fault of their own, they didn’t.!
One episode I experienced wasn’t very pleasant’ One afternoon. I was taking in the basket of my bicycle, sheets of music for a concert rehearsal. About twenty drunken Americans grabbed me and my bike, then proceeded to scatter the sheets of music over the footpath and the field. I eventually managed to grab my my [sic] bike and get away, but for weeks afterwards, sheets of music were floating around the camp to remind me of a very upsetting episode. I didn’t report this, understanding that war, brings out the best and worst in all caught up in the tragedy of it, also sadly, I had learnt that not many Waaf officers were interested in our welfare and we had to look after ourselves.
One of my friends in the Met: office was being demobbed to train as a Doctor. Walking with her on her last night in camp, a jeep stopped by us and [inserted] [underlined] very [/underlined] [deleted] Young? Handsome [/deleted] [inserted] the occupants of, it, two American Officers, invited us to ‘jump in’ Margaret did so with alactrity -- to chaperone her = of course -- 'I followed and we were taken to their wooden chalet. All very cosy, with all mod cons, a great difference to our hut.! [inserted] & that of our Aircrew – which had been reported to me – never having ventured or [deleted] the opp [/deleted] been invited to their billets I hasten to add. [/inserted] We were offered sweetmeets [sic] and fruit, served on the point of daggers (they had quite a collection!) We were shown the list of their bombing runs, many of the items listed were classed as ‘Milk runs’, This was explained to us to mean, they had not been able to find their target, so had returned without bombing. Where they had got rid of their lethal cargo, we thought it wiser not to ask. After pleasant conversation, we were taken back in their jeep to the place where we had been
[inserted] Margaret took off her tunic & relaxed on one of their bed plumping up the cushions & reclined there much as attractive film stars preparing for a love scene – My heart sank – we were young on forbidden terrotery [sic] young with handsome American officers what was she up to? I talked about anything & [inserted] everything [/inserted] nothing – so conversation became paramount [deleted] we [/deleted] we were shown the list of I assure my reader nothing more [/inserted]
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5
‘picked up’ I wasn’t too pleased and questioned [inserted] spoil sport that I was – questioned Margaret [/inserted] Margaret about the escapade’ She informed me, she had wanted an adventure before leaving the Waaf and knew that I would have been able to handle any situation. --- had we have been found out, she would have been away the next day, leaving me to face the music, however it had been an adventure!. [inserted] – [underlined] interesting [/underlined] adventure [/inserted]
While at Oulton, I passed my test for L.A.C.W., this meant my pay went up to three shillings and fourpence a day!. I was recommended by the Signals officer, Flt Lt Collings for Corporal tapes, sadly, instead, because I had spoken up for the girls in Flying Control, at their request, to air their complaints to him, about the Waaf corporal there, I was posted to Swannington.
[inserted] A Stirling A/c that had landed the night before – with casualties bespattered with Blood – I agreed I had refused at first But when this corporal had placed on the shelf over her bed space a piece taken from & speaking up – or out of turn for the girls I never did get promoted [/inserted]
[inserted] The Corporal had asked to see the plane that had crashed the night before she had put the piece from the rear gunners perspect [sic] on show on her shelf above her bed space for us all to see. [/inserted]
The girls were upset for me, but not one of them dare approach him on my behalf. W.A.A.F/Officer Lawson, sent for me and assured me there would be no record of complaint against me because of this incident and she was very sorry I was being posted. I was upset, but being naive I just accepted the situation, however, on reading my records when demobbed, I found she had been truthful to me. No mention of the matter, but a recommendation [inserted] from [/inserted] by Flt Lt Collings that I should receive my Corporal tapes --- alas because of the posting, I never did get promoted.
Oulton, was my first and last experience of being on a large R,A,F [sic] Station. Swannington was much smaller and I became happy there, so the move proved quite good for me. Swannington was the last airfield to be opened during the war in April 1944 for No 100 Group Bomber Command. Two Squadrons of XIX Fighter Command Mosquitos were stationed there, to give fighter support to the Bombers and for other special duties.
Oulton, being only a few miles away, I was able to cycle back there, to see my friends and also still enjoy the kindly hospitality of ‘Mother Riley’. My cycle rides there, in the early evenings after duty, were always slower than the ride back.! The lanes were dark and the trees many and high, overhanging the hedges in the narrow lanes. They seemed to be like weird witches, their branches clutching out to catch you as you cycled past. It worried me too, that I should take the wrong turning, as without signposts, all byways looked alike. Mother Riley’s schoolboy son, leaning out from his bedroom window, used to call out my name as I cycled past in the darkness, a nice friendly gesture! Oh the relief I felt on hearing our planes, or seeing the welcoming airfield lights! but this lonely ride never stopped me, from returning to see my friends at Oulton once a week.
The Americans left Oulton in August and I cycled up for the [deleted] first and [/deleted] last time, to the American billets to say goodbye to Ford. I was given his beloved gramophone records of Tchaikovsky’s Concerto No 1 in B Flat Minor, N.B.O/orchestra, conducted by Toscanini; to keep safe for him. I balanced them on my bicycle handlebars and was bid a fond farewell, from him and all his friends gathered there to bid me goodbye. I got the records safely back to Swannington and still keep them for him, although sadly, he is no longer on this earth. [inserted] [deleted] To enjoy them [/deleted] [/inserted]
I received a tribute from him when he returned to America. Writing in a New Orleans newspaper of his impressions of England -- I quote -- 'Cathy possessed infinite charm, not only attractive physically, she was also very intelligent. She accepted without insult, my constructive criticism of England, lent a sympathetic ear to my dreams and ambitions, without expecting anything in return. My knowledge of English girls is perhaps limited, but if they are half as nice as Cathy, I nominate them as the world’s best.’
With this kindly tribute, I felt I had made a good effort for race relations!
Although stations at Swannington for a year and a half longer, until the end of 1945, I never again returned to Oulton --- But I’ll never forget the good friends I made there.
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D-DAY APPROACHING
I was stationed at R.A.F. Swannington in flying control. For a few months before D-Day our mail had been censored and the coastal areas out of bounds to us
At the beginning of June 1944 however I was given permission to travel to Cromer to try to contact a relation stationed there with the paratroopers. I didn’t find him but I found Cromer looking battle scarred. So shabby and in need of paint to brighten the exteriors of the depressing neglected buildings. The war years had certainly left their mark
Heading for the beech [sic] to cheer myself up I found my way practically barred with huge rolls of barbed wire. Beyond, resting on the sand, were what seemed to be a whole Army of men – their Khaki uniforms blending with their surroundings. One large group invited me to join them. What a cheery group they were! Older and wiser having already had their baptism of war on foreign beaches. We laughed, joked and yarned our way through that sunny June afternoon – they told good jokes
On leaving them a sad faced sergeant approached me to ask what all the laughter had been about. I replied – ‘he looked in need of some’!. I don’t think he thought I was a spy! The next day the beach was deserted – left to the sea and the gulls. The army had left for a deadlier shore
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SWANNINGTON
RADIO ROUNDELAY
Mosquito’s at Swannington impatient to land
‘Round and Round I go
Heigho! Heigho!
‘Never get shut eye at this rate’
‘Listen old man I’ve got a date
With SNAKEHIPS and she’ll not wait’
‘Not with SNAKEHIPS again old boy
She’s bad luck you are tempting fate’
‘My good lord what a bore
Going round and round
The landing ground’
‘At Angels 9, 10 and 11
Going right up to blinking heaven’
All this natter comes to me
Over Swannington R/T
As Mosquito crews ‘muse’
Their patience just a little frayed
When waiting to ‘pancake’ after a raid.
Mosquito crews rather thought of themselves as fighter aces as in a way they were. Although carrying two bombs they also protected the bombers when escorting them on raids. As a result the crews were individuals and inclined to be flamboyant and sure of them selves. They were difficult to discipline when being stacked for landing unlike the bomber crews whose lives were dependent on silence and strict R/T procedures. Stacking the Mosquito’s was a difficult task for the R/T Operator when trying to get landing procedures to them through their continual ‘nattering’ Tragedy [deleted] once [/deleted] struck at Swannington on 22nd December 1944 when one pilot called R/T indicating that he had a serious problem with the ailerons on his Mosquito. He asked for permission to approach the airfield from the opposite direction to that taken by [inserted] the [/inserted] other aircraft. I passed this request to the Officer on duty in the Control Tower who gave permission for the Mosquito to approach as requested. I radioed the plane a number of times to say that permission had been given but because of the constant ‘nattering’ from other crews I could not hear any response. Therefore no one knew if the crew had heard the messages that may have saved their lives. The Mosquito approached the airfield from the usual direction and sadly dived into the ground in front of the Control Tower. I had to watch as both pilot and navigator burned to death – whilst trying to concentrate on bringing 27 other planes in the circuit safely to ground. The other crews were silenced on witnessing the incident – sadly too late! There was
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an enquiry into the incident and the notes taken by my R/T companion clearly stated that I had done everything I could to assist the crew with their emergency. The names of Mosquito’s crew were F/L W Taylor and F/O J. N Edwards. F/O Edwards is buried at Haveringland (St Peters Church) – not far from the airfield.
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When stationed at RAF Swannington in common with other station personnel I visited the home of Mrs Riley – a grocery shop in a nearby village. Mrs Riley had moved to the area from the Midlands for the health of her 10 and 11 yr old sons
Mrs Riley became affectionately addressed as Mother Riley – not because she was like the music hall character of that name but because she became a mother to those of us in the forces. We were fortunate enough to enjoy her kindness and hospitality. She always welcomed us with a cheery smile and a wonderful meal of rationed goodies
WAAFS on the station who were married to aircrew posted to other bases were able to spend precious time together because Mother Riley let them stay at her home
On Sunday evenings we attended the small village chapel with Mother Riley. She got some of the boys to sing solos. I was always asked to recite making her cry sometimes – with pleasure I hope! We would go home with her and sing old time songs – especially good if RAF Welsh boys joined in as they often did
Whatever wartime tragedies the coming week might bring Mother Riley was always there to give comfort and cheer. A wonderful friend to all
[page break]
CHURCH FENTON
Six girls manned the circular Fixer Post/Tower situated at the top of a Yorkshire hill near the village of Saxton. The WAFFS [sic] were on duty 24 hours a day. There were three Fixer Posts situated several miles from the Fighter Station at Church Fenton. We took bearings on aircraft coming into the sector and transmitted these to the Ops room at Church Fenton. They then used the information to direct fighter pilots to the position of the intruders. To hear a triumphant “TALLY HO” always gave me a thrill. Two WAFFS [sic] at a time operated the receiver set – both wearing ear phones. One WAAF operated a horizontal wheel measuring 360 degrees and giving the direction from the Tower to the aircraft. When we detected a sound in the sky that went down we called it ‘catching the dead space’ and we knew we had located an intruder. The bearings were then passed on to the Ops room. Three points of intersection would give the position of the aircraft on the plotting table. If our pilot became lost or could not immediately locate the intruder he would be asked to transmit for a fix. By using the three intersections the Ops room would provide the pilot with a vector to steer within a minute. He was then asked to transmit for a fix at minute intervals.
If there was no flying when we were on night duty we had to sleep on the Fixer station floor. My mother made me a sleeping bag which was much appreciated. Following the harvest rats used to seek shelter underneath the station and being hungry they satisfied their needs by knowing [sic] on the wooden floor. We used tin dinner plats to cover the holes they made.
One night I was rudely awakened from slumber to feel something run up the side of my sleeping bag. I jumped up and reached for the sweeping brush that was always kept behind the Receiver Desk. Standing on the desk I put on the light. There was nothing to be seen. My companion – like me rudely awakened – was not pleased and said I’d been dreaming. When rolling up my sleeping bag the next morning I discovered a large hole where my feet had been. Rats had been hungry!
The following day I wrote a poem to the Signal Section Church Fenton about the experience. As a result the rats were removed quickly and efficiently.
The two chores I didn’t enjoy were cleaning the windows of the Fixer Post – as I was all window! – and getting rid of he [sic] contents of the toilet. These tasks were often neglected by the other groups of WAAFS and it seemed to be our lot to deal with it. The windows were attacked with old screwed up newspapers and made to shine bright and clear. The Elson was another matter – often there was a squeal coming from the maggots. Between us we would lift the heavy bucket and remove its obnoxious contents down a hole that we had dug for the purpose. All the water we used had to be carried up from the village – it was in short supply. We carried the buckets of water on our bicycle handlebars. It was a steep climb but a lovely quick descent!! By the side of this hillside was a wild rose hedge. Kit assured me that in summer the hedge had
[page break]
red and white roses on it – white for the Yorkshire soldiers and red of the Lancastrians who had fought on this site. I never saw evidence of this but when the wind howled round the Tower on dark winter nights we felt that the ground we were on was rather spooky. Several of the leaders of the battle are buried with their horses in the local churchyard and according to Kit after the Battle of the Roses the beck at the bottom of the hill ran red with Lancastrian blood – not Yorkshire’s of course!
[page break]
It was amazing! How the Farmers – even the ancient ones – knew what time we WAFFS [sic] were on duty at Saxton Tower and if we were absent on leave or standing in for another girl they knew. Woe betide us if we were late on duty
I was billeted in the village of Saxton with a girl from Liverpool called Audrey – she was tall and blond. We were polite to each other and worked together quite well. But we were too opposite to become close friends. We shared a small bedroom at the end of the house – it had single metal beds. Yorkshire farmers were real characters. They had a reputation for staying on the family farm and being looked after by a doting mother. When sadly she died they would marry a young girl from the village to ensure that in their old age they would be cosseted. This was the case with the farmer and his wife where we were billeted. He used to say to me ‘EE Katie this is a wicked Village’ I used to reply ‘Well tell me why’. He never did and we never had time or energy after our hours of duty to find out for ourselves!. His brother lived with them and still wore his army coats from the Great War. He never paid his sister in law any money for his keep. He lived on a harvest of his brother’s pigs-bacon for breakfast; pork for dinner and ham for tea. The ceiling of the kitchen seemed to groan from the weight of the hams hanging there. He never had a bath although the Farmhouse bungalow boasted a lovely modern bathroom. I sat next to him at mealtimes and I used to look at him rather carefully. I was always surprised to see how clean he looked. I presumed that his skin was so tough the dirt just skimmed off it. One day his nephew persuaded him to have a bath. We all waited outside the bathroom to witness his exit. His first words to us were ‘Never Again’ – and he stuck to his word!
He slept with a safe in his bedroom – or so we were told having never ventured there. Until one ‘mischievous night’ we made him an apple pie bed – with brushes and many other things. We listened outside his door but there was no sound of anger or surprise. We could only assume that he was so tough that he never noticed his hard bedfellows! Kit the Farmer was as tough as old boots. He had his own chair and place at the table. We never saw him give affection to his hard working wife. He used to tease her by looking out of the window when other women from the village passed by saying ‘My what a smart or a fine woman Mrs so and so is’ Grace never rose to the bait but kept on scrubbing the kitchen floor tiles
They had a dog called Shep which the farmer said he would shoot if it wouldn’t follow the gun. Of course it wouldn’t. We WAAFS pleaded with him to keep his dog. In retrospect it would have been kinder to shoot it as it lived out its life tied to a short rope in a leaking kennel and lived on scraps. That was not good for any animal – it suffered and eventually died of malnutrition and lack of affection.
I missed the life of the camp and the opportunity to be where the action was. During the winter the bedroom was like ice as is had no heating. I used to say on retiring “Well I’ll now go up to Siberia” but this remark fell on deaf ears. Whilst there was the luxury of stable food and no restrictions about how often I could have a bath – paradise for WAFFS [sic] in comparison with the billet in Norfolk – I missed the action and the friends I’d left behind.
Being free from regulations – I didn’t always wear my identity badge as we were required to do – I hitched a lift on the back of a lorry to York. On arrival I stepped
[page break]
straight into the path of a very large and tall WAAF MP. She stopped me in my tracks and asked me for my identity badge which of course I didn’t have – did I?. There was I in uniform except for my hat that would have blown off as I was on the back of a lorry in a high wind
In a matter of days I was called upon to face a charge for not wearing my cap in York. A WAAF Officer – she appeared very young or was I growing old in service? – tore me off a strip and sentenced me to ten days in the cookhouse. I reported there after cycling down to Church Fenton early the next morning. The kitchen was crammed full with out of work Air Crew – hostilities having been wound down. “What are you doing here” asked one handsome young pilot – they were always handsome. I told him that I was reporting for my punishment. “You have to cycle down to Church Fenton for ten days – forget it”. We’ll do the chores for you”. What a knight in shining armour he was. I pedalled back to duty quicker than I’d come having been saved from my sentence!
My drama tutor had written to the Ministry re my Service release – I had not asked her to do so. As a result of a achieving an Honours mark on my associate Certificate I was given a scholarship to a prodigious acting academy in London. I had not asked her to do so. Whilst anxious to take up the scholarship I was reluctant to leave the Services. Had I not had this offer I would definitely have made a career in the WAAFS. However as a result of her plea I was called in front of the most handsome Officer I had ever had the pleasure of meeting. He explained kindly how he couldn’t release me early and was then interrupted by a young WAAF Officer. Fortunately not the one who had sentenced me earlier! She stood in front of his desk and gazed so lovingly in his eyes that I felt like an intruder. Without saluting I quietly withdrew from the room. I hope that she got her man!. I didn’t get my early release.
Oh how we WAAFS worshiped these brave men and boys – mostly from afar of course. On Operation Stations our thoughts and prayers were always with them and they knew this. The atmosphere on these camps was not death and destruction but optimism; love; laughter and comradeship. With a will to do our best in the work that we loved. We were helpful and competent partners in a situation that sought to triumph over the evil of a war that was not of our choosing
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
One WAAF's war
Description
An account of the resource
Commences with call up and journey to Innsworth camp. Describes accommodation, activities and compatriots in detail. Continues with very detailed description of training and activities at Compton Bassett. After a farewell concert was posted to Bawtry Hall. Describes life with companion and work. Manages to get out of cleaning work and was sent to RAF Grimsby where she worked in telephone exchange and fell in love with Lancaster bombers. Subsequently sent of aircraft controllers' course at RAF Cranwell. Describes camp, life, accommodation and training at Cranwell. Mentions church parade where no WAAFs turned up and subsequent consequences. Continues with new section with title 'LACW Kathryn Reid (nee Kathy Miers) WAAF No 473650 RAF Oulton 1944'. Covers posting after training as R/T.D/F operator to Sculthorpe which was under command of Group Captain Pickard DSO, DFC. Sculthorpe was closed and all units, including American ones moved to Oulton from where she describes location, activities and work. Mentions RAF aircrew converting from Stirling to fly American aircraft at night as well as describing her work in aircraft control. Mentions she was on duty for D-Day. Goes on with description of operations and mentions B-17 from 214 Squadron shot down near station sick quarters and only two gunners escaped. Continues with more derails of work and life on camp including entertainment. Mentions American friend. Next was posted to RAF Swannington and describes work and operations with Mosquito. Final posting to Church Fenton where once again describes location and work in detail.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
K Reid
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Gloucestershire
England--Wiltshire
England--Yorkshire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Norfolk
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
United States Army Air Force
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Twenty-six-page printed document
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription. Under review
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BReidKReidKv1
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Tricia Marshall
100 Squadron
214 Squadron
B-17
B-24
entertainment
ground personnel
Lancaster
military discipline
military living conditions
military service conditions
Mosquito
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
RAF Bawtry
RAF Church Fenton
RAF Compton Bassett
RAF Cranwell
RAF Grimsby
RAF Innsworth
RAF Oulton
RAF Sculthorpe
RAF Swannington
sanitation
Stirling
training
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2191/39611/BReidKReidKv30001.1.jpg
d09d27fd6f310ec108affe3ed8838ff1
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2191/39611/BReidKReidKv30002.1.jpg
f81aef3e5bf985744997ff73c36afda6
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
Reid, Kathleen
Reid, K
Reid, Kathryn
Reid, Katy
Description
An account of the resource
92 items and a <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2219">sub-collection with thirty-seven poems/songs</a>. The collection concerns Kathryn (Katy) Reid (Royal Air Force) and contains memoirs, correspondence, poems and photographs. The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by David Stuart Miers Reid and catalogued by Nigel Huckins
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-01-23
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Reid, K
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
Memoir notes - Bawtry and Grimsby
Description
An account of the resource
Describes farewell concert at undisclosed location and closure of chapter of authors introduction to service life. Goes on to write of arrival at Bawtry Hall with friend Dorothy at new location with description of accommodation and cleaning activities. Comments on escape from mundane duties after three months and attempts to get training as a radio operator. Describes detachment to RAF Grimsby Waltham and falling in love with Lancasters. Goes on to describe duty in telephone exchange including having to listen in to calls made by aircrew to their girl friends on operational nights and pull the plug on them. However this was circumvented by crews cycling to use local village phone. Concludes with account of her Squadron Leader moving her to flying control so she would be proficient before her Cranwell RT/DF course.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
K Reid
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Yorkshire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Wiltshire
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Two page handwritten document
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BReidKReidKv3
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
ground personnel
military living conditions
military service conditions
RAF Bawtry
RAF Compton Bassett
RAF Cranwell
RAF Grimsby
training
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1939/37266/BFieldPLFieldPLv1.1.pdf
a1d66cfc041929ebb17d8b41374d1a0f
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
Field, Peter L and Cynthia G
Peter L Field
P L Field
Cynthia G Field
C G Field
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
2017-09-19
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
Field, PL-CG
Description
An account of the resource
144 items and five photograph albums in sub-collections. The collection concerns Peter L and Cynthia G Field and contains memoirs, correspondence, photographs. Peter Field (b. 1920) served as a wireless operator and Cynthia (b. 1921) served as a WAAF in 2 Group. <br /><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2137">Album One</a> Photographs of various people.<br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2138">Album Two</a> Photographs of people and places, postcards.<br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2141">Album Three</a> Photographs of parents house over the years.<br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2144">Album Four</a> Photographs of family events, places and people.<br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2146">Album Five</a> <span>Photographs of wartime colleagues, Cook's tour aerial photographs of bomb damaged German cities, and family and friends as well as two letters home.</span><br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Susan Elizabeth Field and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Peter Field - a memoir
Description
An account of the resource
Starts with account of life at school (Rendcomb College) from 1931 to 1937. Continues with decade 1938-1948 starting with time at Cheltenham Art School in 1938 and 1939. Continues with account of wartime activity including enlistment, training at RAF Uxbridge, RAF North Coates and RAF South Cerney. Goes on with descriptions of activities at Blackpool, RAF Compton Bassett for training as a wireless operator. Describes girl friends he had during this period. Continues with time as a Morse instructor form July 1941 to autumn 1943 and writes of friends and colleagues as well as attending a number of courses at various locations. Goes back to Blackpool to take charge of the Final Trade Test Board for wireless operators. Eventually went to Chigwell to join a mobile signal unit. Goes on with account of time with his second mobile signals unit at various locations in England and then through France to Detmold in Germany where his unit became HQ Signals. Describes time at Detmold and journey home at the end of 1945. Continues with other fragments - return to Berlin August 12 1981, Bath 1942, the rural scene wartime, 1941, early loves, wartime goodbyes, Apologia.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
P Field
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1931
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1941-07
1943
1944
1945-12
1983-08-13
1946-01
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Gloucestershire
England--Cirencester
England--Cheltenham
England--Middlesex
England--Lincolnshire
England--Wiltshire
England--Lancashire
England--Blackpool
Germany
Germany--Detmold
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
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Forty-four page printed document
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BFieldPLFieldPLv1
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
aircrew
military living conditions
military service conditions
RAF Compton Bassett
RAF North Coates
RAF South Cerney
RAF Uxbridge
training
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/641/32465/BSmithJSmithJv1.1.pdf
06d252abf25757870b967f73da7e1fc8
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
Smith, Jack
John George Smith
J G Smith
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Smith, JG
Description
An account of the resource
Three items. An oral history interview with John 'Jack' Smith (1921 -2019) and his memoirs. He flew operations as a wireless operator with 189 Squadron.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by John Smith and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Sparks in the air - Jack Smith's wartime story
Description
An account of the resource
Second version. Covers life before the war and volunteering for the RAF in August 1940. Continues with account of training as a wireless operator. Includes radio school crest and photograph of a Battle aircraft. Describes voyage from Liverpool via Cape Town then escorted by HMS Repulse and Prince of Wales to Bombay (Mumbai) and then onward to Basrah in Iraq. Eventually arrived at RAF Sharjah in the United Arab Emirates and describes life and work on this station. Describes medical issues and subsequent posting to RAF Habbaniya in Iraq. Goes on to describe journey back to England overland via Gaza, Cairo and Alexandria thence by ship. Continues aircrew training at RAF Madley and Llandwrog in Wales. Includes photographs of Proctor, Dominie and Anson. Describes crewing up and starting operations on Wellington aircraft. He continues with postings to heavy conversion units and Lancaster finishing school before joining 189 Squadron at RAF Fulbeck. Describes in detail operations from December 1944 to April 1945. Mentions repatriating prisoners of war and Cook's tour to see damage to German cities. Describes life after the war including his marriage. Includes photographs of Wellington. Stirling, night bombing, wedding and page from log book.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
A Gaunt
J Smith
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Twenty-eight 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
BSmithJSmithJv1
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
England--Spalding
England--Cheshire
England--Lancashire
England--Blackpool
England--Wiltshire
England--Liverpool
South Africa
South Africa--Cape Town
South Africa--Durban
India
India--Mumbai
Iraq
Iraq--Baṣrah
United Arab Emirates
Iraq--Ḥabbānīyah
Gaza Strip--Gaza
Egypt--Cairo
Egypt--Alexandria
England--Herefordshire
England--Northamptonshire
Wales--Gwynedd
England--Nottinghamshire
Germany
Germany--Heilbronn
Germany--Giessen (Hesse)
Poland
Poland--Gdynia
Belgium
Belgium--Houffalize
Germany--Wolfsburg (Lower Saxony)
France
France--Royan
Czech Republic
Germany--Karlsruhe
Germany--Dortmund-Ems Canal
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Dortmund
Atlantic Ocean--Oslofjorden
Germany--Würzburg
Germany--Wesel (North Rhine-Westphalia)
Germany--Nordhausen (Thuringia)
Belgium--Brussels
Germany--Flensburg
Poland--Police (Województwo Zachodniopomorskie)
Scotland--Moray
Egypt
Gaza Strip
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Czech Republic--Most
United Arab Emirates--Shāriqah (Emirate)
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1937
1940-09
1940-11-04
1941-03
1941-08-31
1943-02
1944-04
1944-06-12
1944-08-24
1944-11-09
1944-12-04
1944-12-06
1944-12-19
1944-12
1944-12-30
1945-01-01
1945-01-04
1945-01-16
1945-01-13
1945-02-01
1945-02-02
1945-02-07
1945-02-13
1945-02-14
1945-02-20
1945-02-23
1945-03-14
1945-03-16
1945-03-20
1945-03-23
1945-04-03
1945-04-23
1945-05-06
1945-05
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
1661 HCU
17 OTU
189 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
aircrew
Anson
Battle
Blenheim
bombing
bombing of Dresden (13 - 15 February 1945)
Cook’s tour
crewing up
Dominie
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
love and romance
military living conditions
Morse-keyed wireless telegraphy
Operation Exodus (1945)
Operational Training Unit
Proctor
RAF Bramcote
RAF Compton Bassett
RAF Fulbeck
RAF Llandwrog
RAF Madley
RAF Milltown
RAF Padgate
RAF Silverstone
RAF Syerston
RAF Turweston
RAF Winthorpe
RAF Woodbridge
recruitment
Stirling
training
Wellington
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/641/32464/BSmithJSmithJv1-2.1.pdf
fa99ddac1408d0948f187f5b15dccf96
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
Smith, Jack
John George Smith
J G Smith
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Smith, JG
Description
An account of the resource
Three items. An oral history interview with John 'Jack' Smith (1921 -2019) and his memoirs. He flew operations as a wireless operator with 189 Squadron.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by John Smith and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
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Sparks in the Air
These are the wartime recollections of Pinchbeck resident John George Smith known to his friends as Jack.
Jack was born in 1921, the son of George and Bessie Smith. George was the keeper of a smallholding, raising Poultry and assisting a local farmer.
[photograph of Jack]
As a young teenager growing up in 1930’s England, through the newspapers of the day, Jack was aware of events taking place in Germany and of Britain’s own Fascist problems directed by Oswald Mosley. Although still only a teenager, Jack approached the time he would leave school realising that another war in Europe was inevitable.
Jack left Donington Grammar School in1937 his parents and relatives asking the question “What are you going to do?” Jack had an ambition to become a Chartered Accountant however this required any potential candidate to pay an indenture however the cost was prohibitive and Jack decided to try and join the RAF instead. Ironically jack encountered the same obstacles as his Father who had been unable to join up to serve his country during the First World War because of the poor state of his teeth. At the age of 17, Jack had 22 teeth removed!
Having seen an advert in the Spalding Free Press for “Well educated youth required by Chartered Accountants, Hodgson, Harris & Co”, a national company who had a small office in Spalding over Gibbs shoe shop, Jack applied and got his first job. There was no payment to the company however it only had a low wage of ten shillings a week. There were no girls in the office and as a consequence Jack had to learn shorthand typing to a standard of 100 words/minute, this alongside learning accountancy.
[bold] This is Jacks[sic] account of his wartime memories. [/bold]
When war broke out on 3rd September 1939 recruiting for the forces had started at 20 years plus however I was only 18 at the time. Accountancy was not a reserved occupation and in the August of 1940 I and my colleague Bill Taylor who was the same age as me and worked in the same office both decided to volunteer for the RAF as we didn’t fancy the Army or the Navy.
In September 1940 we were called to the RAF station at Padgate near Warrington to be attested and undergo a medical. Bill and I undertook intelligence tests but we both knew that we wanted to be Wireless Operators.
[page break]
Although the war was now into its second year, there had been as yet no air raids in South Lincolnshire. Whilst at Padgate we suffered ten air raid warnings but fortunately no damage was inflicted on the airfield. It was my first experience of an air raid. This took place over the 13th, 14th and 15th of September and later became known as the Battle of Britain weekend when British fighters shot down 185 German planes.
After my three days at Padgate I returned home to Lincolnshire and on the 4th November 1940 I and my friend Bill Taylor were required to travel to Blackpool. We left from Donington and travelled by train via Manchester arriving at Blackpool in the late afternoon. We were directed to Offices in the centre of Blackpool where we were officially enrolled in the Royal Air Force. Bill and I were then separated and I was lodged at a boarding house at 30 Reads Avenue Blackpool where another 15 RAF personnel were also residing. I was accommodated in the attic where there was a single fanlight, two beds and a wash basin.
The next morning we assembled on the promenade near to the Hotel Metropole. Grouped into Units of approximately thirty, we were placed in the charge of an Acting Corporal. We commenced drill training and were marched around Blackpool for exercise stopping around mid morning at a Café for coffee and buns!
As we were potential Wireless Operators we were required to attend the Winter Gardens daily where we were given instruction in radio technicalities and morse training. Due to double Summertime being in operation, it was exceptionally dark when we set out for the day at 8am. I was given the role of marker to the squad and marched at the front carrying a lantern. There was no heating in the Winter Gardens where we sat throughout the day in our greatcoats breaking only for refreshments before finishing training at around 4 to 4.30 pm.
The food at the boarding house was acceptable being plain in nature but sufficient. In the evenings we were free to enjoy the night life of Blackpool but we had to be back by 10.30pm.
After I had been there for several weeks, I joined a harmonica band consisting of around ten or twelve members and we performed at concerts held in various village halls in the area. The highlight was being able to perform at the Opera House on the same bill as George Formby.
After three weeks I moved to 45 Ashburton Road along with three other RAF personnel. It was a much more homely atmosphere there, living and eating with an elderly couple who owned the property.
After another three or four weeks I moved further down Ashburton Road but only stayed for a couple of nights as it was overcrowded with five to a room. I then moved to 4 Bank Street off the promenade near to the Hotel Metropole and where I had to parade each morning. This was a private hotel and very comfortable as I shared a room with only one other member of the RAF. it was extremely convenient for excursions into town in the evenings and I was happy to remain there until it was time to move on from Blackpool.
[page break]
Radio training continued everyday and we were tested each week at the premises of Burtons the Tailors. We were required to increase morse speed by one word per minute each week until a speed of twelve words per minute had been achieved at which point the course in Blackpool was concluded.
[RAF Radio School crest]
We were then posted to radio schools on normal RAF stations. I was posted to No. 3 radio School at RAF Compton Bassett in Wiltshire which was for ground operators.
There was another radio school nearby to Compton Bassett, No. 4 at Yatesbury which was for aircrew operators.
I enjoyed life here for the first time on a proper RAF station. My day started at 6:30 am with PT on the parade ground square before starting work at 8:00 am.
I was at Compton Bassett from the end of March 1941 to the end of June which was when I qualified as a ground wireless operator and was allowed to wear ‘sparks’ on my right arm.
Having successfully completed training I was allowed home for two weeks leave. This was my first leave since travelling to Blackpool the previous November. I thoroughly enjoyed the break and whilst there I received a posting to the RAF station at Bramcote near Nuneaton. This was a regular peacetime station however at this time it was mainly occupied by members of the Polish Air Force. This was my first experience of an operational signals cabin and for the first time working for real with a radio set.
After several weeks at Bramcote, at the end of July, I was notified I was going on embarkation leave. After three weeks leave I had to make my way to the RAF station at West Kirby in the Wirral Peninsula. On arrival here, I found that several of my fellow colleagues who had been at radio school were also awaiting the same posting. We were all accommodated in tents.
[photograph]
POLISH Aircrew RAF - Fairey Battle Mk 1 sun L5427 BH*E of 300 (Polish) Bomb Squadron “Mazoviecka Province” - RAF Bramcote August 1940 -
[page break]
After several days we were moved by RAF transport into Liverpool for embarkation. The docks were very busy with movement of troops. We marched in units towards the vessel we were to leave England on. This vessel was the Orient Liner SS OTRANTO. Otranto was a 20,000grt passenger vessel that had been modified as a troop carrier. Some 500 RAF personnel embarked along with 3000 men of the Yorkshire Regiment. The decks of the ship went from A to H. RAF personnel were accommodated on E deck which was the last level with portholes.
[photograph]
There were eighteen on each mess table, we slept in hammocks and the toilets were primitive. Ten toilets without doors so there was no privacy. We knew nothing of our destination as security was so tight. On each mess table, two of the men were nominated as mess orderlies and had to bring the food from the galley. I was lumbered with one of these jobs!
After being on board for 24 hours, we departed Liverpool. For me this was quite an experience having never been on a Liner before. It was quite a bright day on 31st August 1941 and our course followed the coast of Northern Ireland. We all started to take a guess at our destination and some of us thought we may be off to Canada to start our Air Crew training.
For a day or so we headed due what until we were well clear of the Irish coast and out into the Atlantic. We were under escort of a number of Royal Navy vessels including two Battle Ships, the ill fated HMS REPULSE and HMS PRINCE OF WALES.
[photograph]
Repulse
[photograph]
Prince of Wales
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There was very little to do onboard and very little reading material available. The only book that seemed to be in circulation was ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’. After some time a number of personnel got sick and went off their food. It reached a point that on my table only myself and one other Mess Orderly were eating. A number of the party were literally very green and extremely poorly.
The vessel eventually altered to a southerly course from its westward heading, still under escort, many of us spent a lot of time just sleeping and looking over the side watching the waves. Some spent their time writing letters intending to drop them off at the first port of call. All letters were censored prior to posting and in fact one of my associates was identified by the OIC as having referred to the Commanding Officer as bring “nothing more than a broken down commercial traveller”. As a result he was brough before the CO and given 7 days confinement to barracks which in this case was a cell in the depths of the ship on deck ‘H’.
Several days later the vessel changed to an easterly direction giving rise to further speculation as to our destination. Eventually we made landfall on the west coast of Africa, berthing at Freetown where we stayed for a week. This was a very boring seven days as we were not allowed shore leave. We amused ourselves by watching the local boys jumping into the harbour to retrieve coins that were being thrown into the water by army personnel. The temperature was extremely hot and the humidity was high.
At the end of the week we left Freetown and the vessel headed in a southerly direction. We now assumed our destination to be South Africa. As we were now in a consistently hot climate, some of us erected our hammocks on deck where it was much cooler to sleep.
The next sighting of land was that of “Table Mountain” on the Cape however to our surprise we did not call at Capetown but carried on further along the South African coast eventually calling at Durban. We stayed here for a week and during that time were allowed shore leave daily. We were kindly entertained by South Africans who took us to restaurants and hotels for meals and tours in the neighbouring countryside.
The weather was perfect and this was a really enjoyable and welcome break. We were extremely surprised that none of us were staying on in South Africa. We Aircrew thought that we may have been going on to Southern Rhodesia to continue air training – no such luck ,,,,,!
At the end of this week we once again set sail along with our escort of Battleships heading east into the Indian Ocean. We sailed for several days before Repulse and Prince of Wales left us. No one could have imagined that only a few months later both these mighty ships had been sent to the bottom of the South China sea sunk by land based bombers and torpedo bombers of the Imperial Japanese Navy on 10th December 1941. In Japan the engagement was referred to as the Naval Battle of Malaya (Mare-oki Kaisen).
We were more fortunate with our destination as the Otranto finally docked in Bombay (Mumbai) India. Once again we were alongside for a week and were entertained on pleasure trips. I found Bombay to be a very exciting and busy place.
At the end of this week, we Aircrew were taken off the SS Otranto and transferred to a much smaller vessel, the SS KHEDIVE ISMAIL complete with its Lascar crew. Of 7513 grt, formerly the SS ACONCAGUA, built in 1922 as an Ocean Liner and converted to a troop ship in 1940.
[page break]
We eventually left Bombay heading West and once clear of India we were advised that we were going to Basrah in Iraq. This revelation was our first indication as to our final destination.
There was very little comfort onboard and hammocks were again the order of the day. The Lascar crew were very helpful and attentive and at night whilst in our hammocks they would come around with a bucket of tea or chai as they called it. This was very refreshing especially with the temperature as high as it was.
Although the food onboard was quite acceptable, the toilet arrangements were primitive, consisting of a trough the width of the vessel with wood seats where you sat side by side with your fellow airmen – Absolutely no privacy whatsoever …..!
We were off into the Arabian Sea without any sight of land until we entered the Straits of Hormuz, being the entrance to the Persian Gulf. We now had no escorts and sailed on alone through the tranquil waters of the Persian Gulf in very high temperatures and daily sunshine.
[photograph of SS Khedive Ismail]
Land eventually came into sight as we approached the Northern end of the Gulf and we eventually arrived at the Port of Basrah which was a very busy port.
After disembarking, we were directed to a very large cargo shed on the dockside where we were to stay for the next few days. We only had beds made from boards and raised off the floor on four empty biscuit tins. The luxury was completed with one blanket and a small pillow. The temperature at this point was most uncomfortable.
Whilst awaiting a posting, we were able to go into Barrah itself and sample the local life. The authorities were slightly puzzled as there were some fifty of us qualified Wireless Operators and they were not at all sure what to do with us. This took some time to sort out. Eventually a few of us were posted to Shuaiba which is now the second largest port in the State of Kuwait. At that time it was a camp about ten miles out of Basrah which had been a peacetime RAF camp.
The accommodation at Shuaiba was of brick constructed buildings having been built partly below ground to try and reduce the heat as during the height of the season temperatures exceeded 40 deg’s. I spent quite some time carrying out general duties until one morning an order for volunteers for anybody who could type was requested. By this time I was rather tired of filling sand bags and doing guard duty. As I could type and do shorthand, I decided I would risk it and volunteered. I immediately became the Squadron typist and carried out all the office work and correspondence for the C.O.
After a week or so the Squadron was posted to Sharjah a British Protectorate which is now a part of the United Arab Emirates. The squadron consisted of 18 Blenheim aircraft all of which were ex OUT and were not terribly serviceable.
[page break]
The Blenheims were required for anto[sic] submarine patrols up and down the Persian Gulf and out into the Indian Ocean. We were moved to Sharjah by boat and disembarked by dhow into the then village of Dubai. We continued by road transport to Sharjah where we were billeted in huts which had the luxury of fans.
On the edge of the airport was a stone built structure known as the ‘Fort’. This was well equipped as it was used by BOAC crew for overnight stops. Because of the very high temperatures, the Mechanics could only work on the aircraft until 10am and then cease until 6pm. It was so hot an egg could be fried on the wings of aircraft.
Water was in short supply and the only bathing was done in the sea which was about half a mile away. We only had a small supply of fresh water for shaving and tea was rationed. Food was very repetative with many combinations of risoles you have never seen the like of.
Once every fortnight we were allowed American beer which equated to about four half pint cans which were consumed in one night. We used to leave the empty cans outside our billets and by morning they would have been removed by the locals. If you then happened to go into the village of Dubai, these cans could be seen on sale as mugs, having had handles attached.
Although I was trained wireless operator, I was still being misemployed as Squadron Typist which mean that I could not be reclassified and so remained an AC2. However, I eventually took the AC1 examination and was upgraded. Like all the other Wireless Operators out there, we all wanted to get back to complete our Air Crew training. The Adjutant suggested I re muster as a Radio Observer which meant I could go to Southern Rhodesia for training or alternatively consider obtaining a commission as a Filter Officer.
Whilst at Sharjah I suffered quite badly from ‘prickly heat’ which developed into blisters requiring my admission to the base sick bay. I also had heat exhaustion around the time of my 21st birthday, running a temperature of 106 degs.
I was taken to the Fort at the edge of the camp which had air conditioned rooms. My skin problems got progressively worse and I had to have by head completely shaved. I received treatment with bread poultices on my arms and legs which became septic.
[photograph of an aeroplane]
Eventually I was taken by air to the RAF Hospital at Shuaibah and spent 2-3 weeks there recovering in the dermatology ward. At the end of my hospitalisation, I was posted to Tehran in Iran on sick leave. I travelled by road transport through the town of Ahwaz in Iran and then by train to Tehran. This journey took 24 hours. The train was completely full with people sleeping not just on the seats but also on the luggage racks and corridors.
[page break]
When the train stopped in the early morning there were many locals selling eggs and bread on the platform which was very welcome. On reaching Tehran we were taken to a rest home on the edge of the city. It had pleasant facilities. We used to go into Tehran in groups of 3 or 4 personnel.
Towards the end of the two weeks, I developed tonsillitis which resulted in my being taken to the Sick Bay at the RAF Station at Tehran where I remained for a further ten days. The MO allowed me to remain in Tehran until I felt well enough to travel to Basrah but after about a week, I became quite lonely as all my colleagues had by then left.
After arriving back in Basrah I was then posted to Habbaniya, a real peacetime RAF station about fifty five miles West of Baghdad. I was extremely pleased to receive this posting as the climate at Sharjah did not suit me at all.
Habbaniya was quite a large base, all brick buildings including two cinemas and a range of shops where you could buy clothing etc. Surprisingly even the food in the Airmans[sic] mess was exceptionally good! There were also facilities for sporting activities including tennis courts.
We had local youths acting as what we called “cheekos” who did our laundry and kept the village clean. There were 16 men in each billet and we all paid the equivalent of two shillings per week for this domestic assistance. It was always done promptly and efficiently. Each billet had fans as temperatures were around thirty to forty degrees. I was employed as a Ground operator in a Signals Cabin on a shift system, working stations in the UK and India.
I found this to be very enjoyable work.
[bold] NOTES ON RAF HABBANIYA, IRAQ [/bold]
There were numerous billets, messes and a wide range of leisure facilities including swimming pools, cinemas and theatres, sports pitches, tennis courts and riding stables. It was self-contained with its own power station, water purification plant and sewage farm. Within the base was the Civil Cantonment for the civilian workers and their families and the families of the RAF Iraq Levies. Water taken from the Euphrates for the irrigation systems enabled green lawns, flower beds and even ornamental Botanical Gardens. After World War II the families of British personnel started living at Habbaniya and a school was started.
The base at Habbaniya was used by the RAF from October 1936 to the end of May 1959, Not quite a year following the July 1958 revolution.
In recent years Habbiniya was used for the manufacture of mustard gas which was used against Iranian troops during the Iran Iraq war.
[map of the area]
[page break]
[centred] The Journey Home (Habininyah to the UK) [/centred]
On a February morning in 1943, I was sleeping in the billet after having been on a night shift when I was awoken by some excited discussion. This was caused by a sergeant from the Orderly room reading out a list of names of Operators being posted back to the UK to resume Aircrew training and my name was on the list! It was then necessary to get clearance from the OIC of Signals – so off we went! However the Officer said that as we were all experienced Ground Operators, we could not leave until replacements arrived and this took five months until July.
There were six of us with our kit bags that were put on to an open lorry to start our return journey to England. We travelled due west over the Iraqi desert. The temperature was around 40 degs C and after about four hours we stopped for refreshment and toilet relief. The stop took place at a point on the “Oil Line” known as H3.
We carried on, passing through the small town of Al Rutbah which was the only sign of any habitation that we had thus far seen. Before darkness we stopped for the night somewhere near to the Syrian/Jordanian border, having to make ourselves as comfortable as possible on our kitbags.
The next morning we resumed our journey travelling just north of the Dead Sea until we arrived in a small coastal town in Gaza just South of Tel Aviv. We were in a small transit camp with brick billets, completely unfurnished. We had to sleep on a blanket on a stone floor and in the morning we all had a large number of insect bites!
After spending a couple of days on a Mediterranean beach we embarked on a train for Cairo. It was a pleasant journey as it followed the coast and at each station there were vendors of eggs and bread. On arrival in Cairo we were taken by truck to the RAF base at Almaza, a few miles out of town. On this occasion we were accommodated in small (2 person) tents whilst we awaited the Liner which would return us to the UK.
After ten days in Almaza, we Wireless Operators were taken to Alexandria where we boarded a large Liner. Unfortunately I never knew its name however it apparently was the first ship to go through the Mediterranean since it was closed at the beginning of the war. We docked in Algiers for two days and the day after we sailed away, the Luftwaffe attacked Algiers. Our next stop was Gibralter where every night depth charges were set off at intervals as a deterrent to U-Boats. However during our five night stay there was no air raid.
The last leg of the journey was north into the Atlantic and around Ireland into the River Clyde. This was uneventful but as we sailed into Greenock it was wonderful to once again see all the green vegetation. Something that I had missed in the two years I had been away. It was now the end of August, exactly two years since I had left. There was also good news – Italy had surrendered. I was also very happy now to send a phone message to my folks via their neighbours to let them know that I was back in the UK.
I travelled by train to RAF West Kirby on the Wirral to leave my tropical kit and get a three week leave pass. The next day I had arrived home to a very happy reunion with Mother and Dad. I spent the next three weeks meeting relatives and friends recounting my travels.
[page break]
After three weeks disembarkation leave, I was posted to Number 4 Radio School at Madley near Hereford. This was where I was to resume Air Crew training as a Wireless Operator, flying Dominis and Proctors.
[photograph]
The [bold] Percival Proctor [/bold] was a British radio trainer and communications aircraft of the Second World War.
The Proctor was a single-engined, low-wing monoplane with seating for three or four, depending on the model.
[photograph]
At the start of the Second World War, many (Dragon) Rapides were impressed by the British armed forces and served under the name [bold] de Havilland Dominie [/bold]. They were used for passenger and communications duties. Over 500 further examples were built specifically for military purposes, powered by improved Gipsey[sic] Queen Engines, to bring total production to 731. The Dominies were mainly used by the Royal Air Force and Royal Navy for radio and navigation training.
This was my first experience of flying and operating as a Wireless Operator and here we were flying most days for about one and a half hours carrying out various operation exercises on the radio.
RAF Madley was also a peacetime Station and the accommodation was quite good and included bunks for two members each in huts containing about sixteen personnel. Whilst I was here, I was with a number of the men that I had served with in Iraq so I was quite happy with the friends that I already knew. We used to go into the local village in the evenings, frequenting the local hostelries where I had an enjoyable time making up the[sic] for the two years I had spent overseas!
The course finished at the end of December 1943 and this is when I passed out and was promoted to Sergeant. At the same time I was also presented with my previ, the letter ‘S’ for Signals in the centre.
Previously Wireless Operators had been Air Gunners as well but that had by then been discontinued and a Wireless Operator was purely a Wireless Operator and not required to do a Gunnery course. Having qualified, I was kept on for a few more weeks assisting with the training of other personnel.
At the end of April 1944 I was posted along with some of the other Wireless operators to No 9 Advanced Flying Unit at Llandwrog in North Wales which is close to the town of Pwihelli and also close to Caenarfon. The drome here was along the coastline and planes taking off the runway immediately across the Irish sea.
[page break]
At Llandwrog we were training in Anson aircraft doing cross country exercises, out across the Irish Sea to the Isle of Man, back to the Lancashire coast and returning to base in Wales. This was during the month of May 1944 and continued into June until the course was completed on 12th June 1944. By this time, I’d had 43 hours of lectures and about 37 hours of flying time. This had been quite good experience as we had been night flying on a number of occasions and experienced flying in terrific thunderstorms. The whole aircraft having been completely encircled in a blue light including the wings! This was quite an unnerving experience.
[photograph]
On two occasions whilst stationed at Llandwrog, two of the training aircraft taking off failed to raise into the air and ditched in the sea. Each about 200 -300 metres from the shore. Fortunately the crews survived.
During my time there I was kept pretty busy however I did get into the local pub occasionally. There was a bit of a problem in that the pubs closed at 9 o’clock in the evening so you were never late getting back to camp. I was aware that there were certain local farms where airmen could go and have a bacon and egg meal and other enjoyable food but I never managed that.
Having completed the advanced w/t course, I was then posted to No. 17 Operational Training Unit at Turweston, Northamptonshire which was also part of RAF Silverstone. Turweston was the satellite drone where I spent my first period operating.
It was here at Turweston where we were all selected into different crews which was quite a hit and miss affair. This was because the Pilots were selecting more or less randomly the members of their crew from those present in the room.
I was picked by an Australian Pilot, Flight Sergeant Rob Richter. In addition to myself we had a Navigator (Alan Capey) from Stoke on Trent, a Bomb Aimer (Taffy Cross) from Llanelli, an Flight Engineer (Ossy Williams) from New Malden, a Mid Upper Gunner (Price Proctor) from Hartlepool and a Tail Gunner (Paddy McCrum) from Belfast.
It seemed strange putting together a crew in such an informal manner but thank goodness it all worked out reasonably well and we all sort of bedded down together in pretty good form. We then started operating together and flew in Vickers Wellington Mk III’s and I was now flying as a Wireless Operator no longer under training.
[page break]
[photograph]
We were accommodated in nissan huts amongst a lot of trees and I was working together with a team for the first time. As we got on so well together we were socialising each evening, visiting the local hostelries in Silverstone and Brackley. The weather at this time was perfect and I was enjoying the experience of flying with a crew in the Wellington aircraft.
The flying exercises we were doing began with circuits and landings. We then developed this on to cross country and high level bombing exercises at Wainfleet in Lincs. and also Epperstone in Notts. This included air firing for the benefit of the gunners.
At the end of July our crew were moved into the RAF base at Silverstone with more permanent accommodation than we had previously had at Turweston. It was all most comfortable and I was quite content here. We were now mainly doing cross country flights on a regular basis with these being between three and five hours in length.
In the middle of August we were sent on a semi operational patrol known as a “Nickel Raid”’ dropping foil paper to interfere with radio in enemy territory. This was a flight to Nantes in France where we unloaded the foil. This was a five hour trip. Two days later we were sent on a “Bullseye” which was a diversionary raid for the benefit of the main force. This was a trip to the coast of Holland to the town of Imjuiden.
During the time at Turweston and Silverstone we had experience of 57 hours of daytime flying and 57 hours of night flying. As part of the training we carried out bale out drill, ditching, dinghy and oxygen drills as well as procedures when lost at night. It was the Wireless Operators job to carry the radio transmitter into the dinghy which would be used to transmit any distress signals. I’m pleased to say that this situation never arose.
On 24th August 1944 we were sent on two weeks leave after which we were then posted to the Heavy Conversion Unit no. 1661 at RAF Winthorpe near Newark. The planes we used here were Mk III and V Stirlings. We carried out more cross country exercises however we were only here for one month. Our Pilot always likened the Stirling to the equivalent of flying a Double Decker Bus because the undercarriage was so high.
[page break]
[black and white photograph of a Short Stirling]
Short Stirling
On the 18th October 1944 we were posted to No. 5 Lancaster finishing school at Syerston, between Newark and Nottingham. This was our first experience of flying Lancasters. We were only here until the 8th November when we were all posted to various squadrons.
[Crest of Royal Air Force Syerston]
I and my fellow crew were posted to the RAF staion [sic] at Fulbeck which was purely a wartime air station and here we joined No. 189 squadron which is a Base that we shared with No. 59 Squadron.
I arrived at RAF Fulbeck on the 9th November 1944. The Station was situated between RAF Cranwell and the villages of Leadenham and Brant Broughton all with good pubs which we visited regularly when off duty. My home in Quadring was only 25 miles away and as I had my bicycle I went home for the evening several times. I left camp at 4pm and by 6pm I was home. At midnight I would return to camp, arriving two hours later. It was a lonely ride but I usually had a pint bottle of beer in my saddle bag for refreshment on the journey!
The daily routine in camp commenced about 9am when all crew members reported to their Sections. We were then given the days programme after which it was necessary to check your own particular equipment. At midday we all returned to either the officers or Sergeants mess for lunch. The only flying our crew did in November was a cross country and two high level bombing exercises at Wainfleet and Epperstone.
Naturally we were waiting to be called for our first operation and during the month we had the experience of being fully briefed for three trips, all being cancelled before take off which was a bit nerve wrecking.
However on the 4th December 1944 when we reported to our Sections we were informed that we would be on ‘Ops’ that night. After lunch the procedure was for all crews to attend the full Squadron briefing between 4pm and 5pm when we were told the target location and purpose of the raid.
Depending on the nature of the target, the maximum bomb load was 16,000 lbs and 2,200 gallons of fuel. With a full load of bombs/fuel, the total weight of the plane on take off was 30 tons. The flight plan gave the level at which we would be bombing and could be 8000 to 16000 feet. The more trips you did, then lower was the level at which you bombed.
[page break]
There were usually several Squadrons - about 200 aircraft on night trips. There was a rendezvous point, either Northampton or Beachy Head, for us to group together. As the whole force would be over the target for thirty minutes, each crew was given a bombing time - H plus 10 or H plus 20 etc.
It was an amazing experience in total darkness with no lights on the planes and a complete blackout of all towns and villages below. Our average take off time was 7 to 8pm. As we were not permitted to return to the mess or accommodation after lunch, we had sandwiches and flasks of tea with us.
Upon returning to base, often in the early hours of the morning we were first debriefed on the raid. After that we had a very welcome meal of bacon and eggs etc, before going off to bed.
Our first trip was to HEILBRON near STUTTGART in the RUHR to bomb the railway marshalling yards. Taking off for your first raid was a rather eerie feeling, not knowing what it would be like or if you would be coming back. However, once airborne your thoughts fall to getting the job done. After three hours we were over the target area giving us a very bumpy ride. Thankfully we were not hit and having dropped our 4000 lb bomb and a load of incendiaries, the yards were glowing with the fires raging. We returned to base safely and satisfied with our first operation.
Our next ‘Op’ was GIESSEN near FRANKFURT on 6th December where the target was once again marshalling yards.
On the 19th December we went on a long ten hour journey to GDYNIA. All went fairly well until we arrived over the target which was the docks. We should have done a ‘dog leg’ around the target (which we somehow missed!) to enable us to bomb on a northerly heading, coming out of the run over the Baltic Sea. As a consequence we were coned by searchlights and received heavy targeted gunfire from the German Navy below. Fortunately they missed us and we eventually had a successful raid. To avoid the enemy night fighters our Pilot took us down and we flew as low as possible over the Baltic and North Sea, not seeing any other activity although there had been some 200 enemy night fighters in amongst the main stream of bombers on the way home.
Two nights later we were sent to POLITZ, not far from GDYNIA which was another ten hour trip. On this occasion we were in heavy gunfire and heavy anti aircraft fire and for the first time we witnessed ‘Scarecrow’ being used by the enemy in order to create panic. Once again we were successful and set out to return home. On the journey back we were informed by radio that Lincolnshire was completely fog bound and we were diverted to RAF Milltown near Elgin. We remained there, as from 21st to 28th December 1944, Lincolnshire continued to be fog bound.
Far Right: ‘Scarecrow’
[black and white photograph of a ‘Scarecrow’ exploding]
AUSTRALIAN WAR MEMORIAL SUK12055
[page break]
On the 30th December, we were sent to Houffalize, Belgium which was a town in the middle of the Western Front, south of Liege in the Ardennes. Here we were supposed to bomb the front line which was a rather delicate operation. Although it was a relatively short trip of five hours, we needed a lot of care as to where we were bombing. We learned later that a number of the Polish army had been caught by the bombs on that occasion.
On New years Day 1945 we were sent to bomb Gravenhorst for the numerous oil targets that were situated there. Unfortunately we could not return to base and once again returned to Milltown in Scotland where we stayed for a couple of days.
On 4th January, I flew with another crew piloted by Flying Officer Martin due to the sickness of their Wireless Operator. On this occasion we went to Royan, a town in the south West of France near to Bordeaux principally to attack the Submarines of the German Navy which were on the river there. This was a seven hour journey to the mouth of the Gironde which was quite uneventful.
On the 13th January we were sent to the town of Politz again which was a ten and a half hour trip. We were successful mainly targeting oil and marshalling yards alongside the Navy. Because of the length of the trip, on the return journey the flight engineer indicated that our fuel was not sufficient to get back to base. I made contact with base to establish where we should land given our circumstances and we were directed to make for Carnaby which was the emergency landing strip near to Flamborough Head in Yorkshire. We were fortunate to land there safely as there was virtually no fuel leaf onboard.
On the 16th January I was back with my own crew and flew with them to the town of Brux. This was an oil target with a round trip time of nine and a half hours. This was over towards the Polish area.
On the 1st and 2nd February we attacked the towns of Siegen and Karlsruhe. Both these trips were bright moonlit nights which made it much easier for the German night fighters to attack us when we were silhouetted against the moon. We did experience interference from night fighters and as always the anti aircraft fire was very intense. On the Karlsruhe trip, out of our 18 aircraft we lost 4 that night.
On the 7th February we went to Ladbergen in order to attack the Dortmund-Ems canal. On this occasion we only carried 1000lb bombs with no incendiaries in the hope that we inflicted as much damage as possible to the canal.
On the 13th February we had a very long trip to Dresden. This we were told was because the Russians had driven the German Army back and it was encamped in Dresden. This was termed as a “Russian Army co-operation raid”. The American Airforce had been operational during the day and had bombed the target so by the time we were arriving around midnight, the town was ablaze.
We were successful over the target but did encounter a lot of the usual anti aircraft and fighter aircraft. On the way back to base over the Alps we were icing up and had to go down as low as possible which was a tricky operation being amongst the mountains. However we were once again able to make it back to base.
[page break]
Of course after this raid there has been much publicity about it and as the years have passed, the extent of the damage became more apparent and the subject tended to not be mentioned. However being aware of the reasons for the raid, it seemed to me to be a very satisfactory legitimate target and one that was done with extreme efficiency.
The very next night on 14th February, we attacked an oil target at Rositz which is near Leipzig. This was another nine hour journey there and back. A few nights later on 19th February we were again in the vicinity of Leipzig over the town of Bohlen and once again it was an oil target. On all these Oil targets we carried a 1000lb’er and a load of incendiaries.
On 20th February we went all the way to Gravenhorst but unfortunately the sortie was aborted and we were unable to return to base because of adverse weather conditions and we were diverted to Colerne. On 23rd February we were given a very different target in Horten which were the docks in the Oslo fjord in Norway which had a German Naval base there. This was a comparatively short trip it being only six and half hours and we experienced a lot of intense anti-aircraft fire from the German Naval gunners.
On 12th March, we carried out our first raid in daylight and joined a one thousand bomber force. The target that day was the town of Dortmund. This was quite a new experience and rather frightening being amongst so many other bombers, all at the same time and all approaching the same area. However, the raid was successful and we returned without incident in what was a five hour trip.
The next trip was to Lutzkendorf, an oil target which was quite a long journey and well into Eastern Germany. This was on 14th March and although the raid was a success, we did lose several aircraft. Once again the weather conditions in Lincolnshire prevented us from returning to base and we were diverted to Manston in Kent where there was an emergency landing strip.
Two days later on 16th March we had another oil target to attack in the town of Wurzburg. Here we experienced a lot of fighter activity and heavy anti-aircraft. We were very lucky to get back!
On 20th March we returned to raid Bohlen near Leipzig and this was another eight hour trip. On 23rd March we were sent to the town of Wesel to attack the marshalling yards there. This was a mere five and half hour trip which we carried out without incident.
On 4th April we were sent on a daylight raid to Nordhausen and this was to attack oil targets and the marshalling yards. On 23rd April we were again raiding in daylight, this time to Flensburg on the Kiel canal. This was to attack the submarine pens there however the sortie was aborted and we returned home without encountering any problems.
Three days later we were sent to Brussels to repatriate a group of ex prisoners of war. We managed to pack in twenty four in the fuselage of the aircraft and we flew to Westcott in Buckinghamshire. This made a very pleasant change and the former POW’s were naturally in good spirits.
As the war was nearing its conclusion, we found ourselves doing more training exercises for a day or two and on 6th may[sic] we were back in Brussels collecting more former POW’s and this time we brought them home to Dunsfold in Surrey.
[page break]
We repeated this some six days later on 12th May. On each occasion there were twenty six former POW’s in our fuselage. On 15th April we flew to Lille to repatriate more POW’s.
On 16th April 1945 we were sent on a grand tour of Germany to see what damage had been done. This covered the towns and cities of Bremen, Hamburg, Harburg in Bavaria, Brunswick, Cassel, Wurzburg, Stuttgart, Frankfurt, Cologne, Osnabruck and back to base. The whole trip took some eight and a half hours. This was a very interesting and exciting flight to see just what effect the bombing had on Germany.
On 1st April 1945, the Squadron had been transferred to Bardney which is nine miles east of Lincoln. This is the RAF station from where we operated the two daylight raids and the trips to collect the former POW’s. Also on this Station was No. 9 Squadron. They specialised in carrying very large bombs which they used to bomb the hiding place of Hitler in the Mountains.
On most of the raids I was on, the anti-aircraft fire was quite intense in most places and the night fighters were usually very busy. The one frightening aspect that the defenders of certain targets used was to send up “scarecrows” this giving the impression of one of our bombers exploding and crashing in flames. How this was achieved, I am unsure but it was extremely frightening.
Our crew had the unfortunate luck of having to be changed after the third trip as our Rear Gunner had been caught sleeping twice whilst we were still over enemy territory. On the first occasion when the Skipper called to him there was no reply and I was asked to go and find out what the problem was. I found that both the turret doors were open and he was lying back on the shute into the turret with his intercom lead pulled out of the socket. I informed the Skipper that he had not replied because his intercom was out. However on the very next trip the same situation occurred again whilst we were still well over Germany. On that occasion I did report to the Skipper that he was in fact asleep. After that he was removed from the Crew and we had to have substitutes for the remainder of our trips.
After the raid on Karlsruhe we had lost four aircraft which I have already referred to but in fact on several trips one or two failed to return however I have no record of the numbers lost in my period of Operations.
In the May of 1945, the Crews were being dispersed as our tours had finished with the war coming to an end on 8th May 1945. A number of us volunteered to assist with hay making and I spent about two weeks on a farm near Gainsborough, Lincolnshire after which we were all sent on leave for a few weeks.
As we completed the tour, we were then given a rest period and at that point we expected to be going on operations in the Far East at the later stage however the war ended there on 15th August.
As I was home on leave, I received a posting to RAF Woodbridge which was an emergency landing strip in Suffolk. There I was more or less just operating in the Flight Control Tower and also assisting in the Officers and Sergeants Mess’s with their accounting systems. I had plenty of spare time and the town of Ipswich was close by. This is where [I] and my friends were going most nights.
[page break]
One of my close friends at Woodbridge was Warrant Officer Bill Patterson, a pilot who had a lady friend called Rena in Ipswich. I was told that Rena had a lady friend who said that she would like to meet me. A date was duly arranged for the 4th November 1945 for me to meet this lady on the steps of the Post Office in Ipswich at 6 o’clock. The person that turned up was a young lady called Avis Fleet.
That evening we went with Bill and Rena as a foursome for a drink in Ipswich and we had a very pleasant time. Consequently I continued to meet Avis on a regular basis and was taken to her home on Norwich Road where I met her parents and young brother Geoffrey who was only eleven at the time. We met very regularly most days as I didn’t have much to do at Woodbridge and our friendship grew until by the end of December we had agreed to get married in 1946.
Avis and I went to my parents home in Quadring on Boxing Day and spent a few days there before returning to Ipswich. At the end of December, I was promoted to Warrant Officer which made my weekly pay Six Pounds and Eleven Shillings which at the time was pretty good money.
I continued to meet Avis regularly whilst the release groups from the RAF were in number order and I was number thirty five. With the assistance of my friend Bill Patterson who was then in the Release Centre, I went for demobilisation on 3rd April 1946. I collected my civilian outfit and returned to Ipswich to meet Avis again. Of course being released at that time meant that I had a quantity of clothing coupons which helped Avis considerably in getting her wedding outfit etc.
The wedding was arranged for the 4th May 1946 and this took place at All Saints Church Ipswich. I continued to receive pay from the RAF until the end of Mat[sic] 1946 by which time I had resumed my work as an accountant with Hodgson Harris in Spalding.
[wedding photograph]
After living with my parents for 4 or 5 weeks, I managed to obtain a furnished flat in Spalding at 13 High Street which was along by the riverside.
[page break]
In 1950 when war broke out in Korea I decided to join the RAF Reserve and this meant going to No. 9 Reserve Flying School at Doncaster. I would attend there at weekends, taking part in various flying exercises. In August 1951 as part of Reserve Training, I did two weeks camp at Topcliffe in North Yorkshire and flew in Ansons on cross country exercise which also included a trip to Malta.
The last trip I did was in an Anson in a North Sea search for the Spurn Lightship. This was on 1st February 1953. After this I was retired from the Reserve as I was over the age of twenty nine.
Whilst on Operations we had nine days leave every six weeks and all received Ten Pounds per week from Lord Nuffield (The boss of Ford Motor Co). In appreciation of our services.
Returning from leave sometimes could be worrying. In our huts there would be members from 4 or 5 different Crews and returning home some would be missing from raids. On one occasion there were members of 7 Crews in our hut and on our return from one sortie, 5 were missing. This was a huge shock!
I thoroughly enjoyed all of my time with the RAF and would say that it was as good as going to a University. I realise that I am very fortunate to be still alive at the age of 92. I now have the medals of my service history including the Bomber Command Clasp for the 1939-1945 Star.
I hope my story will be of interest to whoever may read it.
[two pages from 189 Squadron Fulbeck logbook]
[page break]
[photograph of Andrew Gaunt as sub-postmaster at Pinchbeck]
Jacks[sic] WW11 story and experiences have been brought together by Andrew Gaunt former Sub Postmaster of Pinchbeck (2000 to 2014), from recordings made by Jack of his time with the RAF and his personal recollections of events and flying missions that he was sent on. Utilising Jacks[sic] log book and researching events that he has referred to.
It seemed appropriate that I brought Jacks[sic] recollections together having myself been a fellow Wireless Operator. Being a Marine Radio Officer from 1975 to 1986 and visiting many of the ports of the Middle East that Jack transited on his journey. Ironically Merchant ships no longer have a requirement to carry an R/O. This position disappeared in the 1990’s whilst the requirement to carry a W/O on aircraft was I believe removed sometime in the 1960’s. My own experiences took me frequently into areas of conflict notably the Persian/Arabian Gulf, regularly through the then dangerous Straits of Hormuz during the Iran/Iraq war and I also have my own vivid recollections of the Iranian Revolution.
Acknowledgements are made to the following sources whose photos have been used although there appear to be many copies of the same photos on different sites.
Polish Aircrew at RAF Bramcote – polishsquadronsremembered.com
Troopship SS Otranto – britisharmedforces.org
HMS Repulse – historyofwar.org
HMS Prince of Wales – dailymail.co.uk
Troopship SS Khedive Ismail – cruiselinehistory.com
Blenheim Aircraft – spitfirespares.co.uk
WW11 map of Iraq – en.wikipedia.org
Percival Proctor Aircraft – en.wikipedia.org
De Havilland Dominie Aircraft – rafyatesbury.webs.com
Avro Anson Aircraft – uboat.net
Vickers Wellington Aircraft – aviationresearch.co.uk
Short Stirling Aircraft – aoth.17.dsl.pipex.com
“Scarecrow” phenomena – awrm.gov.au
Whilst the tragic fate of Repulse and Prince of Wales is a well known WW11 event, a lesser known event but equally tragic story lies in the fate of the SS Khedive Ismail which took Jack into the Persian Gulf in late 1941.
The SS Khedive Ismail was sunk by a Japanese submarine on 12th February 1944 with the loss of 1,297 lives. The vessel Sank in just two minutes. For more information on this terrible event visit www.roll-of-honour.com/Ships/SSKhediveIsmail.htm The story is also covered in The book “Passage To Destiny” by Paul Watkins.
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Sparks in the air - Jack Smith's wartime story
Description
An account of the resource
Covers life before the war and volunteering for the RAF in August 1940. Continues with account of training as a wireless operator. Includes radio school crest and photograph of a Battle aircraft. Describes voyage from Liverpool via Cape Town then escorted by HMS Repulse and Prince of Wales to Bombay (Mumbai) and then onward to Basrah in Iraq. Eventually arrived at RAF Sharjah in the United Arab Emirates and describes life and work on this station. Describes medical issues and subsequent posting to RAF Habbaniya in Iraq. Goes on to describe journey back to England overland via Gaza, Cairo and Alexandria thence by ship. Continues aircrew training at RAF Madley and Llandwrog in Wales. Includes photographs of Proctor, Dominie and Anson. Describes crewing up and starting operations on Wellington aircraft. He continues with postings to heavy conversion units and Lancaster finishing school before joining 189 Squadron at RAF Fulbeck. Describes in detail operations from December 1944 to April 1945. Mentions repatriating prisoners of war and Cook's tour to see damage to German cities. Describes life after the war including his marriage. Includes photographs of Wellington. Stirling, night bombing, wedding and page from log book..
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
A Gaunt
J Smith
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Twenty page printed book with b/w photographs
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BSmithJSmithJv1-2
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
England--Spalding
England--Cheshire
England--Lancashire
England--Blackpool
England--Wiltshire
England--Liverpool
South Africa
South Africa--Cape Town
South Africa--Durban
India
India--Mumbai
Iraq
Iraq--Baṣrah
United Arab Emirates
Iraq--Ḥabbānīyah
Gaza Strip--Gaza
Egypt--Cairo
Egypt--Alexandria
England--Herefordshire
England--Northamptonshire
Wales--Gwynedd
England--Nottinghamshire
Germany
Germany--Heilbronn
Germany--Giessen (Hesse)
Poland
Poland--Gdynia
Belgium
Belgium--Houffalize
Germany--Wolfsburg (Lower Saxony)
France
France--Royan
Czech Republic
Germany--Karlsruhe
Germany--Dortmund-Ems Canal
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Dortmund
Atlantic Ocean--Oslofjorden
Germany--Würzburg
Germany--Wesel (North Rhine-Westphalia)
Germany--Nordhausen (Thuringia)
Belgium--Brussels
Germany--Flensburg
Poland--Police (Województwo Zachodniopomorskie)
Scotland--Moray
Egypt
Gaza Strip
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Czech Republic--Most
United Arab Emirates--Shāriqah (Emirate)
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1937
1940-09
1940-11-04
1941-03
1941-08-31
1943-02
1943-12
1944-04
1944-06-12
1944-08-24
1944-11-09
1944-12-04
1944-12-06
1944-12-19
1944-12
1944-12-30
1945-01-01
1945-01-04
1945-01-16
1945-01-13
1945-02-01
1945-02-02
1945-02-07
1945-02-13
1945-02-14
1945-02-20
1945-02-23
1945-03-14
1945-03-16
1945-03-20
1945-03-23
1945-04-03
1945-04-23
1945-05-06
1945-05
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
David Bloomfield
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
1661 HCU
17 OTU
189 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
aircrew
Anson
Battle
Blenheim
bombing of Dresden (13 - 15 February 1945)
Cook’s tour
crewing up
Dominie
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
military living conditions
Morse-keyed wireless telegraphy
Operation Exodus (1945)
Operational Training Unit
Proctor
RAF Bramcote
RAF Compton Bassett
RAF Fulbeck
RAF Llandwrog
RAF Madley
RAF Milltown
RAF Padgate
RAF Silverstone
RAF Syerston
RAF Turweston
RAF Winthorpe
RAF Woodbridge
recruitment
Scarecrow
Stirling
training
Wellington
wireless operator