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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/865/10825/AGillRA-JT170930.2.mp3
ee2bdb54a700a6de722a519acf341d1e
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Title
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Hazeldene, Peter
Peter Vere Hazeldene
P V Hazeldene
Description
An account of the resource
19 items. An oral history interview with Rachel and John Gill about their father, Peter Hazeldene DFC (b. 1922, 553414 Royal Air Force) and 16 other items including log book, memoirs, medals and photographs. He flew operations as an air gunner with 106 and 57 Squadrons.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Rachel and John Gill and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-03-07
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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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Hazeldene, PV
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
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CB: My name is Chris Brockbank and today is the 30th of September 2017. I’m in North Hykeham with Terry and Rachel Gill and we’re going to talk about Pete Hazeldene, Hazeldene, who was Rachel’s father, and his experiences in the RAF. So we start talking to Rachel. What do you know about dad in his earliest life?
RG: Well, I know he was the eldest child of seven and he was born in Barry Island. Dad always loved the sea and I think this is, was because he was born near the sea. He had diphtheria as a very small boy and was in an Isolation Hospital. He was a member of the choir, sang in the choir and an altar boy. And then they moved to, to Cardiff. Dad enjoyed life. He loved camp. He loved to go and take, with his friend take his tent to the bottom of Caerphilly Hill. And —
CB: What did his father do?
RG: Oh, Grandpa was in a drawing office in Cardiff. Grandma stayed at home with all these children. Dad left school around about fifteen and was an errand boy for a jewellers but his love of the Air Force started when he saw a poster in a window offering to see the world from a different angle. And that’s when dad decided he would join the Air Force. Grandpa was against it because he wanted him to join the Welsh Regiment but dad was adamant and away he went. I’m not quite sure if grandpa signed his forms or whether it was Grandma. Dad joined the Air Force and came as a boy entrant to Cranwell.
CB: So this is 1939. Beginning of ’39.
RG: Yes.
CB: Although he’d showed his interest in 1938.
RG: Yes. Yes.
CB: Right.
RG: He was, he did the training in Cranwell as a, what did he do? Wireless operator.
CB: Just stop there a mo.
RG: Yeah.
[recording paused]
CB: Doing technical training.
TG: Technical training.
RG: Oh right. Yeah.
TG: With a —
[recording paused]
CB: So, tell us a bit more about him leaving home.
RG: It was quite an adventure coming to Lincolnshire for dad because it was his very first time he’d left home and his very first time he’d actually been out of Cardiff. Out of Wales. And he got here as a sixteen year old and he never left Lincolnshire all his life.
CB: So, we’re going to get Terry to talk about the technicalities here because he came to Cranwell as a boy entrant in the days when they were doing that sort of training at Cranwell. So what do we know about that?
TG: Well, from what he told us and from the books we have that he wrote at the time, his technical notes, he was being trained on radio and electrical theory. And at that time of course he was too young to join aircrew but when the war did break out he did volunteer for bomber crew and he was accepted for that. He was sent from Cranwell to a Gunnery School at Upper Heyford and he trained on wireless op, as a wireless operator and he was trained in Morse Code. Subsequent to that training he joined or was posted to 106 Squadron at RAF Finningley.
CB: I think as a wireless operator/air gunner then he went to an outpost somewhere to be trained in gunnery.
TG: Yes. He went West Freugh.
CB: West Freugh.
TG: Freugh. Yes.
CB: In Scotland.
TG: Yes. His first flight was from West Freugh in March I think it was. 1940.
CB: Right.
TG: According to his log book.
CB: So he would have just been eighteen then.
TG: He would. Yes. He’d just turned eighteen a couple of months before. And obviously he was successful and then was sent to Finningley.
CB: Right. Just stop there a mo.
[recording paused]
CB: We’re just going to go back to the Cranwell experience because he’s away from home and there are things there that are different —
RG: Yes.
CB: From being in Wales. So —
RG: Very different. His mum was a very good cook and there was always very good portions for the family but at Cranwell the portions were very small and obviously it didn’t meet dad’s appetite. So the only thing that he could fill up on was cabbage. Dad hated cabbage but he learned that, you know if he wanted to feel full cabbage was the way forward and eventually got to like it and grew them. Yeah.
CB: Extraordinary. But he was being trained in ground radio and electrical activities so most likely he then did some work on the ground.
TG: He did. I understand it was at Abingdon to start with before he was posted to Finningley.
CB: Before he did his gunnery course.
TG: Before his gunnery course. Yes.
CB: Yes. So while he was at Abingdon he, it sounds as though it was when he was there that he volunteered for aircrew.
TG: That’s right. He, after, he then attended a gunnery course and was posted to Finningley where he then flew as a wireless operator and air gunner with 106 Squadron.
CB: What aircraft were they flying?
RG: Hampdens.
TG: They were Hampdens at the time.
CB: Right.
TG: And he later, he was posted with 106 Squadron to Coningsby. And he did thirty operations with 106 Squadron. One of his pilots was a chap called Bob Wareing who on one particular raid they attacked the Schnarhorst and the Gneisenau in Brest and they were successful in putting that ship out of action. And the Scharnhorst. And for that raid I understand that his pilot was awarded the DFC and Peter was mentioned in dispatches. At the end of his thirty raids, thirty operations he, he was posted to Polebrook and seconded to the Americans. But I should add that whilst he was Finningley of course they used to occasionally listen to Lord Haw Haw who correctly broadcast that the clock in the sergeant’s mess was ten minutes slow. Which he often used to laugh about, didn’t he? Your father. That he was correct in Lord Haw Haw. But whilst he was at Polebrook with the Americans he flew in their B17s and he taught them wireless operations and Morse Code. And he flew quite on a few, on a few training exercises with them. One particular rather unsavoury incident took place when he took the class out, of Americans to a pub one night. Amongst them was a black crew.
RG: American.
TG: American crewman. And while in the pub the American military police came in and dragged the black lad out, beat him up and dragged him away because he was in the wrong sort of pub. They say. Your father couldn’t really understand it could he? Peter couldn’t. Pete couldn’t understand that. They charged, the barman charged your dad sixpence. Peter, Pete was charged sixpence because in the melee they broke a beer glass. But he, he never forgot that incident and he couldn’t really rationalise it. It was not what he had expected so to speak. On another occasion he told us that the flight engineer went berserk on the aircraft and in order to subdue him Peter had to, or Pete had to knock him out with an ammo box. I understand there was, and he was grounded for LMF afterwards. Not Pete. The flight engineer.
CB: The American. American flight engineer.
TG: No. No.
RG: No, this was —
TG: This was while he was at Finningley.
RG: Yeah.
CB: Oh, Finningley. Oh, right.
TG: Yeah. Sorry. I’m getting things out of order aren’t I, a little bit?
CB: Yeah. Right.
TG: Slightly. Doesn’t matter.
CB: Ok. So this is 106 Squadron.
TG: As far as I remember it was 106.
CB: At Finningley.
TG: Yes. On another occasion that they went on a couple of gardening missions which was obviously dropping the mines. But they’d got one on board still after this operation and they ventured into France to see whether they could drop this mine somewhere else. And they didn’t take much notice of it but a light aircraft gun opened fire on them and as far as they were aware nothing had happened but when they landed the rear gunner was dead and the thing was awash with blood. His area. And they could never get rid of that blood off that aircraft however much they washed it.
CB: We’ll stop there.
RG: Yes, I—
[recording paused]
CB: So, just going back to the gardening bit.
TG: Gardening of course was dropping mines into the sea and to do that one had to fly very low otherwise the mines would break up. So when they flew in over the land they would also be very low and in range of the, the light anti-aircraft gun that obviously caught the rear gunner.
CB: What sort of anecdotes did he have about training and what was going on there? So, on the airfield.
TG: Well, he did tell me on more than one occasion that he recalled two acts that appeared to be of sabotage when he was, I think training as a gunner. On one occasion he said, on one evening or one night five aircraft who weren’t parked together caught fire almost simultaneously. On another occasion he was on board an aircraft which, as it took off and it had taken off only managed to travel just over the perimeter of the airfield when they crash landed in to a field and the aircraft caught fire. They all managed to get out although Peter said he was burned a little bit. Such was the mark of the man. But when the aircraft was examined because it had failed to gain height the chain that operated the elevators had a, had a bolt inserted in to stop it from operating fully. What became of any enquiry into that he didn’t know and I don’t know. So that was a couple of sort of sad incidents, or suspicious incidents that he, he mentioned to us.
CB: What affect did the loss of the rear gunner have on the rest of the crew?
TG: He never said because —
RG: Dad passed out.
TG: Your father passed out, I think. Peter —
RG: At the sight of the blood.
TG: Pete passed out at the sight of the blood when they landed. But as I’ve already indicated that however much they tried to clean that aircraft the stains of that blood remained. But I rather think that was with 106 Squadron.
CB: And that would need a replacement. So how did the replacement fit in to the crew? Do we know about that?
TG: Peter never said. He didn’t elaborate too much on that side of the operations. He never really mentioned the losses he witnessed when he was on the raids. Although we do know that those losses and what happened haunted him for the rest of his life.
CB: Because this is the early part of the war we’re talking about here.
TG: Yes.
CB: So the Americans came in in ’42.
TG: Yes.
CB: That’s why they were getting help. So what else did he tell you about dealing with the Americans? Working with the Americans.
RG: One story was that dad had been on, I can’t tell you where he’d been on the raid but he was flying back and the aircraft had got minor damage and they couldn’t make it back to East Kirkby. So they had to fly and land lower down the country. Was it lower? Or upper? Well, he landed —
TG: South.
RG: Yes. And dad was doing the Morse Code. The colours of the day and who they were etcetera and he flew over an American base and they opened fire on them. And dad was firing away, not firing away, he was doing his Morse Code. Who he was and the aircraft. And eventually after they’d fired at them, eventually the penny dropped who they were and they landed. They were escorted. The crew were escorted by gunpoint to a higher level. Dad and his crew should have been in the officer’s mess but they weren’t. They were separated. Eventually the aircraft was made airworthy and they took off. And being as they were a whole load of young lads they raided the stores and filled it with toilet rolls. Filled the bomb bay with toilet rolls. They should have flown off and come home to East Kirkby but no. Young lads as they were the pilot did a turn around and as they flew over the airfield the bomb bays opened, the toilet rolls flew out and dad tapped away, you historically say, ‘You crapped on us [laughs] Here’s the bumph to go with it.’ When they got back to East Kirkby they thought oh my goodness we’re all going to be in trouble but nothing was ever said. So, yes. That was, and dad didn’t have a great love of the Americans.
CB: This is, this is later in the war we’re talking about here.
RG: Yes. Later. Yes.
CB: But it’s prompted by the earlier point about being at Polebrook.
RG: Yes.
TG: So —
RG: The Americans. Yeah.
CB: What else do we know about when he was there?
TG: After thirty operations which Peter thankfully survived he volunteered and was, as I say an instructor, went as an instructor to the US Air Force at Polebrook. Teaching them Morse Code and wireless operations procedure and I think we’ve already mentioned about this business about going to the pub haven’t we?
CB: Yes.
TG: Shall I read —
CB: What other, what other experiences did he have with them?
TG: Well, they, they used to fly all over the country of course but Peter at that time, I’m not sure if that time he was probably married to Olive which we’ll come to later but, who was at Spalding in South Lincolnshire and he used to persuade the Americans to land at Sutton Bridge which was only about fifteen miles from Spalding, when he’d been on a trip with them. And he’d disembark from the aircraft and he’d cadge a lift one way or another into Spalding to see Olive. So he was using them as a rather an expensive taxi but it served his purpose very well.
RG: Mum and dad met when dad was visiting a crew member who’d got badly burned in an aircraft and, I don’t think it was one of dad’s crew but it was a fellow RAF man. And he was at Stamford Hospital and I think they went on a motorbike, two of them to see, to visit this friend and they stopped back at Spalding obviously for a beer or two. And they went to the Greyhound down Broad Street in Spalding and my mum was, Olive was the bar maid there. And obviously there was some attraction and dad kept visiting. Yeah. But that’s where they first met. And if he hadn’t have wanted a beer and pulled in they would never have met. And mum and dad were married in April 1942.
CB: So, how did they keep contact during the war?
RG: I think it was dad visiting home. They lived at, with my nan in Little London which is very close to Spalding. I think it was just a question of dad coming and visiting and letters. That sort of thing. Yes.
CB: Ok. So at the end of his posting to Polebrook to assist the Americans.
TG: Yes.
CB: How long was that posting there? Do we know?
TG: Well, he, he volunteered for a second tour and he was posted in 1943. In November 1943 if I recall correctly to Husbands Bosworth where he trained with a [pause] with his second crew. A rookie crew.
CB: That was an OTU.
TG: Yes.
CB: 14 OTU. Yeah.
TG: But from February 1941 he’d been at Coningsby just to go back. He did his thirty raids. Then to Polebrook. And then by November ’43 he, he, he, he went to Husbands Bosworth and there he was crewed up with, as I say the new crew who were under training and the pilot was, flight well then he was flight lieutenant then, but a chap called J B P Spencer who was nicknamed Tuesday for reasons that Peter could never discover. Tuesday was from Durham and from quite a well to do family. They and the rest of the crew after they’d finished training were posted to East Kirkby in the run up basically to D-Day.
CB: And then what was the Squadron number there?
TG: It was 57 Squadron.
CB: Right.
TG: At East Kirkby at the time.
CB: Flying?
TG: Lancasters then.
CB: Well, normally there would be a link of a Heavy Conversion Unit between the OTU and the Squadron but it’s possible they didn’t have them operating at that time. When did he go to East Kirkby?
TG: In March 1944.
CB: Ok.
TG: That’s from memory but —
CB: Stop there briefly.
TG: I’m sure it is.
[recording paused]
CB: So we’re chopping and changing a bit but let’s just go back to Finningley.
RG: [unclear]
CB: So what, what, yes what anecdotes do we have about dad flying in Finningley?
RG: Well, I haven’t any recollection of dad talking about it at the time of that he was in there but later on life I and my husband went on holiday and we flew. It was then Robin Hood Airport and we flew from Finningley as it was and dad said oh, well his pilot, Spencer was rubbish at flying. Flying a plane. He would just throw it in to the sky and when he landed he would equally do the same. It was always a hit and miss affair whether they actually got down ok. Dad said that Finningley had got a crosswind and you had to fly, land it sort of diagonal. I didn’t believe him really but off we went on this holiday. And when we came back the wind was that strong that we basically had to fly as dad had said that his Spencer did. But it was typical. We landed and we were home. But yes. So Finningley has never got any better over the years. Or is it the pilots?
CB: Or is it the crosswind?
RG: Crosswind. Well, yes I suppose it’s how, how the airfield is. Mind you they don’t call them airfields now, do they?
CB: Well, it’s an airport now.
RG: An airport. Yeah. But to me they’ll be aerodromes.
CB: Home of the Vulcan. Yes.
RG: Yes. Yes. That’s right. Yeah.
CB: Right.
[recording paused]
CB: Ok.
TG: Right. From the OTU at Husbands Bosworth and at Market Harborough Pete then was posted to the HCU at Wigsley where they flew Stirlings. And then on to Syerston where he —
CB: Lancaster Flying School.
TG: Well, the —
CB: Finishing School.
TG: The Lancaster Finishing School, I beg your pardon at Syerston where I think they’d also pick up the engineer, would they not?
CB: They would have done that at Wigsley.
TG: Yeah. Sorry at Wigsley.
CB: Yes. But he doesn’t mention that in his tour because it’s expanding the crew to the final seventh man.
TG: I see. He never, he never mentioned much about some details.
CB: No. Then he went on to his second operational Squadron which was?
TG: 57 Squadron.
CB: Yeah.
TG: Where —
CB: That was, where was that?
TG: East Kirkby.
CB: Right.
TG: And that was in April 1944.
CB: Right. We’ll stop there for a mo. Thank you.
[recording paused]
TG: The attrition rate was very very high.
CB: So he joined 57 Squadron in 1944.
TG: Yes.
CB: Early part of ’44. Didn’t he?
TG: With Tuesday Spencer as his pilot. And the rest of the crew, Clarke, West, Hughes-Games, and Grice and George I think his name was. And they flew twenty five missions and I think they were very intense at the time. The enemy fire and such. But they managed to survive it but at the end of the twenty five raids Peter was told by the commanding officer he could not continue to fly. He’d had, he needed a rest and he was stood down. And he went for about ten days leave and when he came back he discovered that the rest of his crew were dead or at least missing. And it transpired that they’d been shot down on the 31st of August 1944 after a raid on the railway yards at Joigny La Roche. About a hundred and twenty kilometres south west I think of Paris. And when he arrived back on base he was summoned to the station commander’s office where he was introduced to Tuesday Spencer’s parents who wanted to meet him as the friend of their late son. And —
RG: Twenty.
TG: Sorry?
RG: The lad was twenty.
TG: He was only twenty years old was Tuesday. And Pete was only a little bit more and they gave Peter five pounds to spend on a good night out.
RG: No. They sent him to mark his commission and his DFC five pounds.
TG: Of the —
RG: Because of their, yes that’s in here. Yeah.
TG: Yeah. And instead of spending it on drink because probably his first inclination would be to do he and Olive decided to spend this money on a pair of candlesticks in memory of the crew. And those candlesticks are still with Rachel’s elder sister. Pride of place on the mantelpiece no doubt. In memory of them. What happened to that crew was that from research we’ve carried out and what Peter was told at the time that the aircraft at least blew up returning from the raid. As far as we can work out. And from, again from records we obtained from the Public Record Office at Kew Hughey, Hughey Hughes-Games was the first to parachute out of the plane followed by Sergeant Grice who Peter didn’t know but was acting as Pete’s replacement while he was stood down. And the Germans later said a third parachute caught fire on the way down but no other men escaped the plane. And the Lanc which was called Q for Queenie ND954 burned out on the ground. Hughes-Games it transpired was taken prisoner of war as was Sergeant Grice and the rest of the crew were killed. And they’re buried at Banneville-La-Campagne near Caen. I might have pronounced that incorrectly. Sadly, Hughes-Games who was interviewed by the Red Cross and from some of the information I’ve given to you about it catching fire and whatever came from him he contracted meningitis and died in, Stalag 3 was it? And is buried in Poland. The rest of the crew as I say are buried near Caen. And I took Peter back there and we’ve been back to their graves several times. Sergeant Grice survived as a prisoner of war and I think he ended up back at home and he lived to be in his mid-eighties in Shropshire. But we never met him and Peter didn’t know him. So that was really the last of his memories of 57 Squadron and the loss of that crew. He did commence a third tour. Incidentally, the crew he lost at 57 Squadron were on their thirty first raid. And it’s commonly thought that thirty was the limit but temporarily it was lifted to thirty five around that time I understand. And sadly on their thirty first raid when they died.
RG: The only plane on that day to be lost from East Kirkby.
TG: On the 31st of July that raid went, basically things were a lot easier for the bombers at that time and it was the only aircraft lost on that raid, on that day from East Kirkby.
CB: How did he feel about the loss of his crew?
TG: Peter never spoke much about the experience he had until he retired from his business when he was about seventy. And I discussed it at great length with him and I took him as I say back to France, down to Kew, to Runnymede, St Martin in the Fields. All the Memorials because he started to open up but he never gave much detail about the bad side of it. He mentioned the crew had been killed and he was quite matter of fact about it but that was the surface.
RG: Say now about dad’s nightmares all his life.
TG: But subconsciously we know that he, he was greatly affected by, by his experiences. You’ve got to bear in mind that he, his flying hours exceeded a thousand. A thousand hours in these, in these terrible conditions. I mean they weren’t sitting back. They were bitterly cold, frightened to death and as he often told us more ammunition was wasted on the Morning/Evening Star than shooting at other aircraft because they were quite obviously tense and wound up. But when I met him and he was in his mid-forties then occasionally if we were staying there we would hear him in the middle of the night when he was asleep.
RG: [unclear]
TG: And also at our house in later life if he was ill he would start up talking to his skipper on the radio in his sleep. In talking almost as if it was happening. These episodes of talking to the skipper and warning him about approaching aircraft or, ‘Let’s get out of here,’ didn’t last for a few minutes. They would last for hours in, in the night. Where he would, he would start off and then ten minutes later he’d had another instruction to the skipper, the pilot to warn him of approaching aircraft. And this was when Peter was seventy five or eighty years old. This was forty years later. And it was obviously imprinted on his subconscious indelibly and whilst to talk to him it didn’t affect him if he talked about it a lot at a function when he was later in life because as I say he didn’t disclose much at all of, of the worst side of things but it was obviously there underneath. And if he, if he’d been talking to you now like I’m talking to you tonight he would have been flying again. In his sleep.
RG: In the mornings he would say, ‘Oh, my goodness. I’ve been flying all night. All night.’ Right up until he was in hospital and Helen went to see him, my sister and just before he died he was still flying.
CB: So, who used to go and see him in the night?
TG: We —
RG: Me. Usually me. Or when he was with mum, mum would.
TG: Mum.
RG: Yeah. But when he, after my mum died and he would be here with us it would be me.
TG: But he was ok the next day as a rule. The one thing I noticed about him and maybe many, many other bomber crew he didn’t have any friends from those days. Like some of the army chaps. Simply because there were none left. They had all been killed. All his crew had been killed hadn’t they? I think he stayed in touch with Bob Wareing briefly.
RG: Yes.
TG: Until he died. And about [unclear]
RG: He stayed, he stayed friends with a lot of the RAF people.
TG: But they’d not flown with him.
RG: Through his association with the Royal Observer Corps and the RAF Association.
TG: And the British Legion.
RG: And the British Legion. And also he was a member of Fenland Airfield and he loved to go and spend time down there.
TG: But he never knew or could talk to anyone who flew with him.
RG: Except —
TG: On those raids.
RG: Except —
TG: Except on one occasion at the —
RG: Metheringham.
TG: Metheringham. The reunion which was held, held every year of 106 Squadron he bumped into —
RG: Well, he nearly didn’t go.
TG: He nearly didn’t go. He was very ill. Quite ill at the time and it was not that long before Pete’s death. But we took him to Metheringham, to the old airfield and he bumped into a chap and they got talking and it transpired that on the Scharnhorst raid this chap remembered it clearly and had been in another aircraft on that same raid. And he remembered some talk of Peter shooting down an enemy aircraft. But Peter, Pete always said he thought, they thought he had originally but he never claimed it was him, did he?
RG: But he, this gentleman knew the formation. He said, ‘And your pilot pulled out of formation to go in again.’ And it was just listening to these two old gentlemen who were well into their eighties talking as though they were there that present moment. But for two old age people to be there just by chance on that reunion was amazing. Terry has that on video because we’d just got a new video camera. Yeah.
TG: That’s with IBC, they’ve got the copy of that. Well, we’ve got it here.
RG: Yes.
TG: But I video’d that conversation and it’s now been —
CB: Brilliant.
RG: Yeah.
CB: So we’re really talking about 106 Squadron when they were flying Hampdens.
RG: From Metheringham Airfield.
CB: From Metheringham.
RG: This one. Yes.
TG: He’s written Coningsby but it was definitely —
CB: Metheringham.
TG: Well, it was a satellite wasn’t it?
CB: Yes.
TG: He flew from there. He met, he once, he met Gibson once or twice and knew him. He wasn’t a very popular man, was he? Gibson.
CB: No.
TG: Very officious. But it’s not on there is it? Is that switched off?
CB: Yeah. No. No. It isn’t. We’ll stop there just for a mo.
[recording paused]
CB: The matter of how to speak about these things was difficult for most war veterans. Aircrew particularly. Perhaps because of the high losses. But then there’s the effect on the families. So he’s speaking in his sleep in these times.
RG: Yeah.
CB: What affect did that have on you?
RG: Well, I was mainly concerned for Dad’s well-being really and I would go and chat to him. Although he was asleep his eyes would be open and he didn’t really know I was there. But obviously he did and then he would calm and then in the morning he would say, ‘Rachel, I’ve been flying all night.’ And I would say, ‘Yes, dad. I know.’ But he’d no recollection of me being there. But it was, it was quite upsetting to hear that he was, and he was talking and as though you know he was there, ‘Skip, they’re coming in at — ’ so and so, you know, ‘Do we fire now?’ And it was just as though he was there. But obviously, you know it was affecting his mind. And right up until the minute, well not the minute but the day before he died he was still flying. Yeah. It was —
TG: He was eighty one when he died.
RG: But as a child Dad the war was not spoken to about a lot but on the days when Dad would be slightly not well I was told that I’d got to behave because he wasn’t very well. And that was the reason. But yeah. But in the night he didn’t seem to be agitated by it. It was just as though it was happening and he was coping with it.
CB: So it’s no shouting.
RG: No.
CB: It’s just a conversation.
RG: Yes. Yeah. As though —
CB: As though he’s on the intercom.
RG: Yeah.
TG: As calm as you and I now. Controlled. And so and so’s happening, Skip.
RG: Just as though they were getting on with the job.
TG: A normal tone of voice as if and then an hour later or ten minutes later he’d give an update of some sort. ‘Let’s get the bloody [pause] out of here skipper.’ And that was it.
CB: Because he was acting as a lookout.
RG: Yes.
TG: Well, yes.
RG: Yes.
TG: Oh yes.
CB: As a child though you were told that he was, it was a bad day. So what did you feel as a child when you, he had these episodes?
RG: I just took it, I just took it as, as I’ve got, behave myself. I think I was a bit of reckless child but you know I just got to behave myself and that was it [pause] But no, he was, no. Just my dad.
CB: But he was always calm in what he was doing. It was —
RG: Just turn that off a minute.
CB: Yeah. Sure.
[recording paused]
CB: So how did your mother handle this?
RG: Well, very calmly I think. Dad would on, on what I now know was his sort of bad days he would be prone to picking arguments and probably doing a bit of shouting which was quite unusual for dad because he was quite a calm person. But in, you know he would be probably be shouting at mum but I just sort of took it as I’d just got to behave myself and that would be it. But mum always, when dad was like this was always very sort of calm, and well I suppose she was talking him down a bit. But it was never mentioned why he was like it and I just thought oh well other people’s dads shout and that, you know and that was it. But as a general rule he was such a calm sort of person. Took everything in his stride really. But on these occasions that, that used to happen. Yeah.
CB: To what extent do you think over the years he had spoken to your mother about his experiences?
RG: I don’t really know. I wouldn’t. I would imagine not a lot. It was, I wouldn’t, I never overheard them talking about anything but then I wouldn’t always be there but, no it was usually, if dad spoke about anything it wasn’t how it affected him. It was usually telling a tale of what he’d been up to. What raid he’d been on and different aspects of what they, you know, but it wasn’t, it wasn’t the horrors. It was more of the good bits. You know. Tearing about on a motorbike and that sort of thing as you would expect lads of that age to be doing.
TG: And he was only twenty or so.
CB: Yeah.
TG: When all this was —
CB: Yes.
TG: You know, that was the average age of these —
CB: Sure. Oh yes. Absolutely. So she was in the Spalding area.
RG: All the time. Yes.
CB: Surrounded by Air Force. They were married in the war.
RG: Yes.
CB: She continued did she in her bar work?
RG: Yes. She was a nanny and, to a family who had four children and they kept the Greyhound. So in the day mum would be looking after the children. Helping with that sort of thing. And then she would as and when she was required she would be the bar. The bar girl. Yes. So she stayed with the family. Well, they’re godparents to me and later John one of the sons went into partnership with my dad as a nurseryman and, but mum didn’t live always at the Greyhound. She lived with her parents in Little London. And then when my sister Helen was born she, she was with nan and then mum would be continuing to work and home as normal mum’s do. Yeah.
CB: The reason I ask the question is because to some extent she was programmed to the losses and the stoic reaction of the other crews.
RG: Yes. Yes. I don’t honestly know whether it was all talked about but no doubt it would be you know mentioned. You know. Particularly the loss of all the crew. The last, last one.
TG: I’ve mentioned Tuesday and then of course she had the incident with the DFC. Your mum was disappointed.
CB: So what was that?
RG: Well, dad was awarded the DFC. And mum saved all the coupons and my nan, all the coupons for a new outfit. Coat. A new coat was, I think she had it made and, and you know all ready to go to London, to the Palace and then the king was very poorly so of course it, they couldn’t go. And the DFC was given to dad by his commanding officer over the counter more or less at East Kirkby. And it was very, very disappointing for mum not to be going on that.
CB: I can imagine. Yes.
TG: The king did write. We’ve still got the letter of course.
RG: Oh yes. We, yeah.
CB: Not the same as having it —
RG: No. But no —
CB: Conferred on you.
RG: Well, in those days where they lived, a little village. Oh, you know. Olive Hazeldene. She’s going to the Palace, you know. And a new coat was got. You know it’s just, well, it was one of those things isn’t it? The poor old king.
CB: Well, people didn’t travel much in those days so —
RG: No.
CB: It was a major —
RG: It was a big thing.
CB: Task.
RG: Yes.
CB: We’ll pause there for a mo.
[recording paused]
CB: You were, so let’s just catch up on here.
RG: Do you know, I’m really, I’m really a very strong character but when I start crying I cry for days. Mr Panton, we were talking to him, oh I forgot what I was going to say. We were talking to him one day about dad.
CB: Just to that in to context the airfield was bought by the Panton’s for their chicken farm.
RG: Yes.
CB: And then they bought what is now called, “Just Jane.”
RG: Yes. Yeah. From Scampton. Yeah.
CB: Yeah. So you were saying though that before that happened.
RG: No.
CB: We used to go there.
RG: No. No.
RG: Yeah. We used to go.
TG: Go back to the beginning.
CB: Dad would just go in.
RG: We used to go there, but we never used to speak to anybody because we were like trespassers trespassing and but we used to go and just like look and that was it and you know we girls would probably play hide and seek and that would be it.
CB: On the airfield.
RG: On the airfield. Yes. And then when after dad died we got the Memorial cabinet set up. We were talking to Mr Fred Panton one day and he was saying, and I said my dad would never come in the Lancaster. And he said that they had, when they started doing the taxi runs they had this gentleman who booked himself on one of the flights as they called it. He would come early, have a bit of lunch and sit there and then he would be ready, his flight would be ready, they would call him but he just couldn’t bring himself to get on it. And he said he did it numerous times. Not just the once. Numerous times. Where he really wanted to go on the taxi run but couldn’t bring himself to. And he was, like dad had flown from there.
CB: What do you think was the origin of that reaction?
RG: I would imagine that it would be bringing back all the horrors of, of going. You know, on these raids.
CB: In your case was it your father’s reaction of the loss of the crew without him being there?
RG: He never actually said anything about it but no if I mentioned, ‘Oh, shall we go on one of those taxi runs?’ ‘No. I don’t think so Rachel.’ And that was it but he did [pause] he got a tree planted just around the corner from the mess and in memory and he had a plaque put for his crew. You carry on. Oh dear.
CB: We’ll stop a mo.
[recording paused]
CB: Even though —
RG: Even though dad never actually said how he felt about his crew he did have a tree, bought a tree, a big flowering cherry, had the tree planted and he had a plaque with the all the names of his crew and why we put it there. And now we’ve got, and now we’ve got one by the side of it for dad.
CB: This is a really emotional and emotive activity and task to follow up. But taking the bombing war itself what was his attitude towards bombing in general?
RG: He just, he just, he didn’t do too much commenting on it but I got the feeling that dad was given a task to do and they just went and did it. And didn’t give a great deal, no I was going to say a great deal of thought to what they were doing but obviously they were. But they were just following orders I think. That’s, but he didn’t, dad didn’t say too much. He was a very private sort of fella. Yeah.
CB: Terry, what do you think?
TG: Well, he told me that it was a job that had to be done and he did as he was told and he kept at it. It was the only way. Bearing in mind at the time the only people that were taking the war to Germany was Bomber Command. And he, I asked him sometimes why they’d not been recognised and he just said that’s just how it was. He wasn’t, he got to the stage where he wasn’t, he wasn’t bothered that there was no particular medal for Bomber Command in the war. We all know the political sensitivities about that but that was the way it was. He had a job to do, he said and he did it to the best he could. And he said he was just very, very lucky to have survived.
CB: We talked about his DFC. His navigator also had a DFC. Doesn’t look as though the pilot had a DFC. But what was the, his 57 Squadron pilot because his 106 had two DFCs didn’t he? Wareing.
TG: I think Bob Wareing, 106 Squadron had a DFC and probably a DFC and bar. Peter eventually got his. He said he got it because he was lucky to be alive. But read the citation. Continually went into some of the worst and most heavily defended targets. Sorry. You asked me what?
CB: Yeah. I was going to say what was the reason that, given for his receiving the DFC? Because it was a particular point.
TG: It was a non-immediate award.
CB: Right.
TG: And it was I think the citation and it’s around somewhere was continued enthusiasm and leadership going in to some of the, as I say the worst defended targets repeatedly again and again and again. When he was eventually put forward for it and he received it in 1944. Yes, it was 1944.
CB: Ok.
[recording paused]
TG: It was, it was some years or quite a long time after I had married Rachel that he even mentioned he’d got it. It wasn’t something that was a big thing with him.
RG: As a child dad was a member of the Royal Observer Corps. He was chief, Observer Corps at the post at Maxey, and on ceremonial occasions, on marches and Remembrance Sundays the medals always came out. So he was very proud of them, but as to talk about it that would be a different matter. But on an occasion where other members of the Royal Observer Corps and the British Legion and all that he would wear them with pride. Yeah.
CB: Now, his 57 Squadron tour finished at twenty five ops for him.
TG: Yes.
CB: What did he do after that?
TG: Well, he, he, he started a third tour at Syerston. From Syerston on Lancasters. But he did a few operational tours before the war finished.
CB: Which Squadron was that?
TG: I can’t remember.
CB: It doesn’t matter. But he was on operations. Not training.
TG: No. He was on operations. We see from his logbook he made at least one or two trips to Berlin. Four or five days after Germany surrendered.
CB: Oh right.
TG: And that was the end of his operational duties but I think he stayed on for another eighteen months or so before finally leaving the RAF.
CB: What, what — how did he come to be in the Observer Corps?
RG: My Uncle Bert. He was my godfather. He was a member of the Royal Observer Corps and dad went. Followed him sort of thing. Yeah. Got the Queen’s Silver Jubilee for services to the Royal Observer Corps. And he was chief observer at the Maxey post.
CB: Which is where exactly?
TG: Just outside of Peterborough. Between Peterborough and —
RG: Yeah. Market Deeping.
TG: Until, until it was disbanded.
RG: Yes.
TG: He, he stayed ‘til the end.
RG: He did all the talks on the, you know when the bomb, what was going off. I used to go with him on those talks. We talked to all sorts of organisations. I was in charge of the slides. You know. To show them. I felt as if I knew everything about it. Yes.
TG: I did talk to him about D-Day. I asked him if he’d been on an operation leading up to D-Day and in fact as his logbook proves he was. 5 Group went and bombed on the evening of the 5th of June 1944. Maisy Grandcamp and that area there. I asked him what he thought about it and what he knew about it. When he went on that raid he had no idea it was D-Day. He didn’t know it was D-Day and neither did anybody else but the top brass. As you probably know. And he said he thought it was funny because as he flew over the Channel, he thought on his screen there was a lot of Window. The silver.
CB: Radar jamming.
TG: The radar jamming stuff that was flying around but it, they did the raid and they got back and he went back and went to bed. And then when he woke up the next morning they told him it was D-Day and what he’d seen on his screen wasn’t Window. It was the boats. It was, it was the invasion fleet going. And that was the first he knew it was D-Day because of the secrecy of everything.
CB: This was on his H2S radar.
TG: Yes.
CB: He was seeing it.
TG: Yes.
CB: Yeah.
TG: But that’s, but that’s his recollection of that. But he remembered some, some raids and he’d tell me briefly about them. I think once they, shortly after D-Day they were detailed to attack Caen. The Germans there, and bomb at a certain point. But between taking off and getting this message our side, I think Canadians advanced further and I think there was quite a lot of allied troops killed by our own side in that raid. You probably know more about it than I do. Similarly we talked about the Scharnhorst earlier. That was a raid he told me that went slightly wrong. The plan had been, I think it was Poleglase was the station commander who led them in. But the plan had been for bombers to go in early at high level and get the bombs, the ships guns pointing upwards when Pete’s group would come in low and give them a good hiding. But I think the timing went wrong and they were waiting for them and hence the first three aircraft were shot out of the sky and then Wareing took that detour inland and came and got them from the other way. But these are the things that are probably not documented anywhere else.
CB: Now, the other major ship of course, capital ship was the Bismarck.
TG: Yes.
CB: So to what did he, extent did he have an involvement with that?
TG: He told us and it came to light after a chance conversation forty or fifty years later. Forty years later. With a chap in the Mail Cart pub at Spalding. But Pete told us that they knew where the Bismarck was heading but they didn’t quite know where it was as I understood it. So they went off to lay some mines in the Bay of Biscay and they were talked down as to where they should plant these mines by some of the Naval vessels. And that is what they did. And obviously a short time later the Bismarck was sunk by other means. But the chap in the, in the pub years later it transpired was on one of our Naval vessels and he was a wireless operator talking with the RAF and giving them instructions. So it was probably that Peter actually had spoken to this man before but never met him in entirely different circumstances than over a pint in the Mail Cart.
RG: Steward and Patteson’s.
TG: Yeah. So Steward and Patteson’s was a, that was another. Pete. Pete knew his beers. He knew them like no man I’ve ever met. And he could drink probably more than any man I’ve ever met [laughs] But when I first met him he used to take me to the Dun Cow at Spalding. Well at Cowbit. And he had this Steward and Patteson was one of the local brewers and Pete with his favourite pint but they used to grow barley in Norfolk for the beer, and they used to grow barley in Lincolnshire on the other side of the River Nene. And Pete could tell from the drink which side of the river the barley had been grown. Now, whether he was shooting the line.
RG: He would be.
TG: Which I’m sure he was but people believed him. So there you go. That’s, that’s the man. He was a very tall man, you know. About six foot two, wasn’t he? Very gentle. And he could speak equally to Prince Phillip or the Queen who he met a time or two.
RG: Garden parties.
TG: Or to the local drunk on his bike going past his nursery. Couldn’t he?
RG: Yeah. Yeah.
TG: Couldn’t he? He was at ease with anybody.
CB: And talking of nurseries. After the war how did he come to take up horticulture?
RG: Well, he went to work for Nell Brothers. Horticulturalists in Spalding. And he went as worker there. And then he went to Swanley Horticultural College and did a course on growing and all that sort of thing. And then he came back home. And then one of the Prestons, John Preston was of school leaving age and he thought he might like a career in horticulture. Growing type things. His father was loosely connected. And so they set up the nursery. They rented the land from Uncle Bert and they set up the business of Redmile Nurseries. John was the young lad and my dad was the expert as it were. And they worked there ‘til dad retired. You know. Quite a successful. Growing tomatoes, lettuce. The land had a bit of wheat on. They did lot of potato chitting. Cut flowers in the greenhouses. They expanded a little bit but that’s it. That’s where dad worked.
TG: He spent all his, his remainder of his working life.
RG: Yes.
TG: The Preston family that Rachel mentioned are the same ones that Olive was nanny too.
RG: Yeah.
TG: And who owned the Greyhound at Spalding.
RG: Yes.
TG: And in fact, John, his partner only died last week. He was eighty five.
CB: Ok.
[recording paused]
CB: Do you want to just say that again.
RG: Yeah. Dad grew all sorts of veg and things like that. Tomatoes and lettuce. But he absolutely hated tomatoes. It was quite funny really. You grow them, you know and yeah. But he hated them.
CB: What was the origin of that?
RG: I’ve absolutely no idea really but yeah. Yeah. It’s [pause] yeah.
TG: But his —
RG: But we never ate tomatoes like they do in supermarkets now. Red. They’d always got to be firm and orange and they’d always got to be of a certain size. Other things like you have beef tomatoes and things nowadays they just went on the skip. It had got to be if I can remember pink, or pink and white. That was the grade of the tomatoes.
TG: If they were red they weren’t fit to eat.
RG: No. They were thrown out. They were only for frying.
TG: But of course Rachel does the garden. That’s been inherited from her dad I think.
CB: Looks smashing.
TG: Well, your other sister is a horticulturist.
RG: Yes. Helen is horticultural.
TG: In a big way big way down in Spalding.
RG: Yes. Yeah.
TG: Yes.
CB: Stop there again.
[recording paused]
RG: And they went on their honeymoon. The Preston’s had a bungalow at Surfleet Reservoir. And mum and dad went down there. I suppose it was all the time they’d got. They went down there for the honeymoon to the bungalow at Surfleet Reservoir. It’s where the river comes in and there’s a, there’s a sluice gate before it goes out into the sea. Surfleet Reservoir. In the day it was quite a nice little place to be. Yeah, and that’s where they went on their honeymoon.
TG: About three miles from home.
RG: Yes. Well, why not?
CB: Might have got recalled.
TG: Well, yes.
RG: Well, that’s always a possibility isn’t it?
TG: That was it. But —
CB: Stop there.
[recording paused]
CB: So, did you go back to France quite often? Where the crew were buried.
TG: Rachel and, Rachel and I went on holiday in France quite often and always drive. One time when we were coming back we went to Normandy where my father fought and went to some of the cemeteries at Omaha and others. And at the time I think I managed it was sort of pre-internet days really. But I managed to find where Peter’s crew were buried from the Commonwealth War Graves Commission and on the way back we travelled to Banneville and to the Commonwealth and found Tuesday Spencer and Weston Clark and Anderson. Their grave. And we came back on the Tuesday and Peter had never set foot abroad. He’d left his mark. By golly he had in France and in Germany from high, from on high and I mentioned I’d been and I didn’t know really how to put it because I didn’t know how it would affect him emotionally. And I said we’d been and found the graves and he did say, ‘I’d like to go.’ So this was on the Tuesday. On the Saturday we jumped in his Rover and I went back to France with him and we had the whale of a time. We had a whale of a time. We not only visited. We visited some hostelries there and we visited Pointe du Hoc and Omaha, and I took him to the graves and he stood beside them and he signed the book. He was very quiet but he was completely controlled and he was able to speak quite easily of them. And so he did and we’ve got photographs of the graves and Peter with them.
CB: So what did he talk about?
TG: When he was there? He would talk about Tuesday. He was, I think the closest because he didn’t know anything much about other crews and that was fairly [pause] fairly part of the course wasn’t it? He knew his own crew but Tuesday had a motor bike and he’d got a girlfriend. I think he was having trouble with this girlfriend and I think Pete used to advise him a little bit on the, on procedure and protocols and things like that. But I think he also used to take Pete to Spalding to see Olive and that sort of thing and have a few pints.
RG: Dad put in here that he socialised an awful lot with Tuesday. He had a little bit more money than dad and if they went somewhere, probably go to London and he would put them up and I think dad quite liked that idea.
TG: That happened once. They made a forced landing somewhere down south and Tuesday had the money and he put the whole crew up in a hotel in London. And Pete was quite happy to participate. He put his back in to that evening I think [laughs]. Really put his back into so, and enjoyed that wouldn’t he? But having said that and between meeting him and Tuesday dying was only eleven months or so wasn’t it? So they were, they were, they were friends but they, they must have known that, well what was going through their minds having looked around you didn’t make plans for the future necessarily.
CB: No. You said he was asked to speak to Tuesday’s parents.
TG: Yes.
CB: What did he think about that?
TG: He described it as it was, didn’t he? He, he, they wanted to speak to him and he was summoned to the office. The station commander. When he returned after ten days or so. And they really wanted to talk to him about Tuesday and how he’d found him because obviously they knew or they had been told that Pete was his best friend while he was down there. I think all he could tell them was —
RG: How it was really.
TG: How it was. And when he’d last seen him and that sort of thing. He didn’t express any emotion at all.
RG: No.
TG: To me. He never expressed any emotion. He just told it how it was and that was all his experiences. The only clue you got to the effect was as we mentioned was the night.
RG: Nightmares. Yeah.
TG: The nightmares if you like to call it that. When he was flying at night. That was the only time he, you would know that there was anything amiss. That he’d been affected. He would talk about his drink. The drinking sessions and the good times. He’d talk about not being able to remember because they’d had just to blot it out. But the middle bit. The bit where it happened he, he didn’t go into any detail other than the funny bits usually. And occasionally obviously the rear gunner being hit. But he was, he was baled out twice. Wasn’t he?
CB: So why did he have to bale out of the aircraft?
TG: I think the aircraft made it back to the UK, in England both times. I think on one occasion he landed in a field and it was foggy. And I’m sure he told me that there was somebody had reported this fellow had come out of an aircraft and a police car was, was on the road and he was the other side of the hedge. And I think they thought he was a German or something to start with because he was running down this hedge side with the police opposite until they could sort of meet up and he identified himself. He did get some shrapnel in the backside once. Didn’t he?
RG: Yes. I think mum used to have it in her sewing box. I don’t know if it’s still there [laughs]
TG: It’s probably —
RG: Yeah. I don’t, I don’t think it is now. Yeah. You always, when I was a kid that, ‘Oh, no. That came out of dad’s, dad’s bottom,’ like, you know [laughs]
TG: It had gone through the seat.
RG: Yeah.
TG: Wherever he was.
RG: And when he landed in the tree I think he ripped his leg. But that’s the only injury he got. Yeah.
TG: I think he landed in Norfolk on one occasion if not both. Then struggling back.
RG: The thing is though when you’re growing up you hear, and later on you hear these things and because you’re so engrossed with living —
CB: Yeah.
RG: You don’t take it on board. And then all of a sudden when you get older and you get interested in these sorts of things you think oh, I wish I’d learned more. I wish I knew more about my granddad because he was in the First World War and he, I just knew that he was a horseman but I didn’t know whether he rode a horse. I didn’t know what he did, but he was, he looked after the horse —
TG: A blacksmith.
RG: No. He wasn’t a blacksmith. He looked after the horses that pulled the big guns. You see, I didn’t know any of that.
CB: No.
RG: You know. I didn’t. I mean, ok apart from a picture at my nan’s of him in uniform I wouldn’t have thought. It wasn’t until later on that I’ve got some spoons and knives and things in there stamped with numbers. And they are my granddads and my great uncle’s that they took to the war with them.
TG: They’d be stamped and issued to them, wouldn’t they?
RG: With their, with their service numbers.
CB: No.
RG: I didn’t know. You know, I didn’t know any of that.
CB: No.
RG: And then of course when you get interested it’s too late because everybody’s gone then. Isn’t it?
TG: You see, we’d been across there a lot. Both to the Normandy and to Ypres and the Somme. I nearly lived there. Certainly, if you look behind you when you’re upstairs you’ll see books. I’ve got the 57 Squadron book. The, “57 Squadron at War,” which is very difficult to get a hold of now. I’ve got it. I’ve got it upstairs there but, when I go around to some of these places I mean I often go or used to go to Sleaford and one other, and Norfolk where they’re doing all these re-enactments and you think gosh these are really, because I’m really into these things as you probably gathered. And I start talking to these and they’re all dressed and they, when you actually talk to them they know very little. They want to get dressed up and do battle. They’ve never been to Normandy. They’ve never been to those. They don’t know about, they just want to get dressed up and look you know. They don’t get into it.
CB: They’re actors.
RG: Yes.
TG: Yes. But they’re just enthusiast who want to get dressed up and think it’s fun.
RG: I went.
TG: It annoys me. That they should go and look at those cemeteries, you know. And they’ve never been. I said, ‘What do you think to Omaha?’ ‘What are you talking about?’ ‘Omaha.’ You know. Or, or, or Tyne Cot, or Passchendaele or some of these, you know.
RG: I challenged one at Metheringham Open Day one day. He was there and he had DFC things on, you know.
TG: He was dressed up.
RG: He was an officer and he’d got the DFC. You know, the ribbons.
TG: He was a postman. He’d never been in a —
RG: I said to him, ‘Oh, you’ve got, I see you’ve got a DFC there,’ you know. He did not know what I was talking about. I said, ‘That, that ribbon there. That’s a DFC.’ ‘Is it?’
TG: Yeah.
RG: And I thought, what are we doing here? You know. Yeah.
TG: If they’re going to do that they want to know more than I do.
RG: Yeah.
TG: And my dad was there and he, you know he was reported killed, missing in action to my mum on the 18th of June 1944. Fortunately, in the same post she got a letter from him. He was in Carlisle Hospital with a great lump of shrapnel in him. At Ranville, at Ranville, just up from, from Pegasus Bridge. He’d been smashed up. But as I say after three or four months he was fit enough to go back. That’s where he got this.
RG: I don’t know.
TG: He lived ‘til he was ninety six my father. Red beret and airborne.
RG: Yeah.
TG: And all this sort of thing.
RG: Before he died it was the, was it the seventieth anniversary or something. VE. VE Day.
TG: The week before he died.
RG: Yeah.
TG: My dad was in a home here. My mum died a few years before. And he managed to reach the seventieth anniversary of D-Day.
RG: Yeah. And at the home they did a big, a big thing. It was a Care Centre there. And they did a meal and everything like that.
TG: They got him dressed up with his medals.
RG: And he went and it was, it was a good day. He wasn’t quite sure where he was.
TG: It was his last Friday or Saturday on earth.
RG: Yeah, but he, yeah it was —
TG: He died the following Thursday.
RG: But he’d got his red beret on. And he’d got his medals up and he’d got the photograph sat on his knee all day. Clutched. Of him when he was a young man.
TG: A young man in uniform.
RG: And that. Yeah.
TG: And you couldn’t get it off him.
RG: No.
TG: He had it like this.
RG: He clutched it all day.
TG: He died the following Thursday.
RG: Yeah. Yeah.
CB: Oh right.
TG: Two years, three ago.
RG: Yeah.
TG: Two and a half years ago now.
RG: But, you know a lot, a lot of people don’t know what you’re talking about when you say these things.
CB: They don’t. No.
RG: No.
TG: No.
RG: I mean, this film I haven’t been to see it. Terry went with some lads in the family.
TG: I went to see “Dunkirk.”
RG: Dunkirk. And I listened to a report on the radio and they, was it the radio? No. Wireless. Whatever you call it, you know. And they said that it’s been made because a lot of people don’t know what they’re talking about.
TG: They don’t know the difference between Dunkirk and D-Day.
RG: And people when they were interviewed them, and they said, ‘Do you know about Dunkirk?’ ‘No.’ You know. And I think to myself, oh dear. It is a shame.
TG: But they don’t know why they’re here.
RG: No.
TG: We, I’m ashamed to say that one of our friends we used to go to France and Germany a lot. Just jump in the car and book a ferry and go down the Moselle or whatever. Last time we went to Lille and Bruges. We ended up right on the coast at Dunkirk waiting for a ferry, I think we came back from Dunkirk.
RG: Oh, I can’t remember.
TG: But we came to the very end where there’s still some guns there. I don’t know if you’ve been on that coast. There’s still some German guns there. And Sheila, who is just a few months older than you and we’re talking Dunkirk and she said, she turned and said to me, ‘Is this where they all came up on to the beaches then? And the invasion.’ And I think, they weren’t going that way. I mean she’s seventy. I mean, I just think how can you go through life —
RG: Yeah, but don’t you think though like I’ve —
TG: Without knowing that it happened hundreds of miles away. D-Day. And they were coming — we were going up there.
RG: But I’ve grown up with Lancaster bombers. I’ve grown up with them, you know. And my girls they’ve grown up with them as well through granddad. And this is how we’ve been. And all, aircraft in the sky, ‘Oh look. There goes the Dakota,’ or whatever. I’ve grown up like that. But a lot of people just don’t know what you’re talking about. I know a few years ago I was at work and it was, it was a nice day and we were in the canteen and we’d got the windows open. And we sat there having coffee and I said, ‘Oh, listen. Oh, there goes the Lancaster.’ No one looked. They looked gone out at me as if I was speaking a foreign language. I said, ‘Listen. Can’t you hear the engines?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘It’s a bomber. It’s going over.’ ‘What are you talking about Rachel?’ I said, ‘It’s the Lancaster.’ I said, ‘It’ll be going back to Coningsby and do its circuit around the Cathedral.’ And they had no idea what I was talking about. Now, that is sad isn’t it? Yeah.
TG: The other thing your dad didn’t like to see and it must have affected him. I sometimes wonder about why he said it, is every time he saw an old airfield in Lincolnshire and he saw the control tower standing derelict he would say, ‘I wish they would pull them down.’ He said, ‘I wish they’d pull them all down.’ I think it was a reminder. He didn’t, he didn’t like to see them. Did he?
RG: No. Not derelict anyway. No.
TG: I mean, I didn’t know —
RG: He was ok at East Kirkby. You know, because it’s all been restored.
CB: It’s restored. Yeah.
RG: Yeah. But he always went to East Kirkby just for a ride. You know, ‘I’m just going to ride.’ Woodhall Spa. East Kirkby. That way on. But yeah. There we go.
CB: Just going back to the, your parents in the war people took very different views as to whether they should marry or not. So why was it that your parents married essentially in the middle of the war?
RG: Just turn that off a minute.
[recording paused]
RG: Wouldn’t like to hear that. She, you know. Why mum and dad got married in the war. I think they, you know had a good relationship. Romance blossomed and I think the idea was well, why shouldn’t we get married? You know. In those days it was the way forward regardless of how long they had got together. I don’t think that entered into it. So, yes. They, they married. Yes.
CB: And we talked about their links and because they were physically not next to each other while the flying —
RG: Yes.
CB: Was going on. So that covers that matter. Thank you.
RG: Yeah.
[recording paused]
CB: So, Terry. On your case.
TG: My dad was in the army and he was on the beaches at D-Day and wounded just after. But they married in 1941 and my dad was on a few days leave and they had a special licence. They decided to get married on the Wednesday night and the ceremony took place at the church on the Saturday. And everything was pretty quick in those days although I was three or four years coming along and the eldest of five brothers. They caught up for it later on, didn’t they? But he survived the war. My father.
RG: And they were married for nearly seventy years.
TG: Nearly seventy years.
CB: You had a long and auspicious career in the police force and to what extent did you come across policemen who’d been in the war and did they talk about it?
TG: Well, only early on did I come across it and only for a short period because the chaps on the patrol car with me were much, much older and had served.
RG: Lofty had, hadn’t he?
TG: There was one chap who was, I remember distinctly. Never had a cigarette out of his hand. And he’d been on the Northwest Frontier, was it? As a stretcher bearer and drummer boy. And he told me a few tales.
CB: In India.
TG: Sorry? In India. Yes.
CB: In India. Yes.
TG: And his skin was still leathery. They called him Lofty. A wonderful character. But he didn’t go too much into, into his experiences and I didn’t see many others who were old enough.
RG: And Vic’s dad. Was he in the war?
TG: Yes, but he didn’t serve with —
RG: No. No.
TG: Vic’s dad. No. I met one or two people. One chap had been, he’d worked in an office in Lincoln and he was, you’d call him an insignificant little chap and he wasn’t very noisy. He kept quiet but when he spoke everybody listened because he’d been on the, in the Navy, I think the Merchant Navy and been torpedoed twice and survived. That sort of thing. I think Alf Dixon who was the office man at Spalding when I joined had been torpedoed in, in the Navy. But I was only nineteen when I joined. And I mean I had school masters who had been, all of them had been in the war. One had lost his leg. The deputy headmaster. That’s a thing.
CB: And what about the felons that you dealt with? Had any of those been guided by the forces originally?
TG: No. No. They, young as I was most of them and they just jumped on to the one side of the fence while I’d fallen on the other at the time. I was on the law enforcement side. But no it didn’t.
CB: So, going back to the war itself you talked about the experience of one of the crewmen and being [pause] we were talking about, touching on LMF.
TG: Oh yes. Yes.
CB: So, what was that dimension as far as Pete was concerned? What his knowledge.
TG: The man was out of control. He said he was. He just had him, you know he was shell shocked was probably —
RG: Flak happy.
TG: Flak happy was, was the word. He’d gone flak happy. Completely flak happy and gone berserk on the aircraft. Endangering it. As I said, Pete said he hit him with a ammo box and knocked him out. And then he was charged. Probably court martialled. I don’t know for LMF. In these days you’d have probably got a handsome sum in compensation for all the stress he’d been put through. But that’s as far as it went. I don’t think Pete came across it. Or if he did he didn’t mention anything about that at all. Even if he was stressed. I mean obviously what he said they were terribly stressed. You wouldn’t go out and get blind drunk to forget what you’d just seen, done and been through like they did. It was the only release they had. The only release. They above all went from relative safety to the most terrible danger in a very short time. Whereas no other arm, arm of the armed forces experienced that, did they? They were, either they were out there fighting at a fairly consistent level, I know it went up and down but the bomber crews and I suppose the fighter pilots as well went from sitting at home in a pub in England or with a girlfriend and hours later being subject to the most horrendous barrage and being attacked from above and below. And it was a huge contrast for them.
RG: And the frequency of the flying and the raids. If you look at dad’s logbook it sort of says you know, he’s made up the logbook and its flying such and such and where they’ve gone. Good long way away. Then they’re back. And then it’s not five minutes or so before they’re off again, you know. And they would be going at 9 o’clock and 10 o’clock at night. Flying. Night flying. Coming back. Then afternoons. And there wasn’t a good long rest period in the middle so they, they would be tired out, you know. Head wise as well as body. Physical. Yeah.
TG: Sometimes a crew would be lost and of course their uniforms would, and everything they’d left in their billet was moved and their beds made up for the next crew to replace them. The next crew would come. And then before they went to bed they’d probably gone on a raid and be lost and they’d never use the beds that were made up for them. I mean. As you know. This was the —
RG: I don’t think modern society can understand what a lot of they had to put up with that and go through really. I know there’s different things. Different aspects now. But they just had to get on with it in those days. Well, from what I can understand.
CB: You touched on a point indirectly which is that the socialising of the crew and in this particular case Tuesday’s crew was mixed airmen of sergeants and officers.
TG: And, and —
CB: So, how did that work?
TG: There was I think there was pretty well classless. I think those, those divisions were not, Peter never, Pete never mentioned anything of that nature. The only thing he objected to was when they were marched off at gunpoint by the Americans at this base and they were all put in the sergeant’s mess when he said he should have been in the officer’s mess. But they were questioned and all sorts. That’s the only time he ever, but I think he had taken umbridge at the Americans attitude rather than anything else because Pete had no thoughts for what anybody’s background was. He’d treat everybody the same.
RG: No. Absolutely.
TG: Whether he was a prince or a pauper. Quite literally. And he spoke to all people from all of those classes and you could be with him and he could hold a conversation with anybody from any background but he never ever —
RG: Never judged anybody.
TG: He never judged anybody.
RG: No.
TG: And he never sort of said, ‘I’ve got the DFC,’ and everything. He never got, it never got entered into conversation.
RG: He was just a nice chap.
TG: He was just a nice sociable chap who liked a pint after a hard days work at the nursery. And sometimes in later life he’d go down to the Mail Cart on the bus wouldn’t he because of the road safety. But one of the funny things I’ll tell you about Pete when I was first was going out with Rachel. I think I was first married.
RG: I think we were married.
TG: I think we were married. And Pete and your, and Harold.
RG: And his friend George Samsby.
TG: And George Samsby.
RG: And some, one other.
TG: They were a right drinking group.
RG: Oh dear.
TG: And they all used to go to the Dun Cow at Cowbit. Now, me and my mate who was quite a lot older than me were in a patrol car one night and it was about one in the morning coming back into Spalding along Cowbit Bank. And I could see some of the cars outside the well-lit pub because closing time was about ten thirty and this was 1am. The lights are still on. There were a few cars outside amongst which was your dad’s.
RG: Harold’s.
TG: Your brother in law’s and George Samsby’s and my co-driver, he said, ‘Look at that pub. Let’s go and raid it.’ I, I was appalled that these, you know, he says, ‘They’re all drinking.’ So I said, ‘I’m sorry, Brian. I can’t Brian, I can’t.’ He said, ‘Why not?’ I said, ‘Because I’m at court in the morning. If I get tied up with that lot I’m going to be here ‘til 4 or 5 o’clock.’ I didn’t mention whose cars they were because I could see it in the paper that, “PC arrests whole family illegally drinking.”
RG: Oh dear [laughs]
TG: Dear me. In the local pub. And I could imagine quite a rift, you know and I’d have to go and give evidence against him and then bail him out.
RG: Oh dear.
TG: But he was wonderful company. He was wonderful. He were wonderful company your dad was. Wasn’t he? He was. He used to work like anything. But when they used to be at Maxey they used to get an allowance to cut the grass at the Royal Observer Corps Post. To pay somebody to do it. Well, they didn’t. They kept the money and cut it themselves. So every year they had a right old booze up and a dinner to which we went with the money for the grass cutting. Resourceful to the last. Wasn’t he? Yes.
RG: He used to have these, you know exercises and they’d you know pretend that there was going to be a —
TG: Nuclear war.
RG: Nuclear war, you know. And away dad would go there. And the first thing that went down into the post as they called it was the beer laughs] It went down, you know. The beer.
TG: That was because they were underground weren’t they?
RG: Yeah.
CB: They wouldn’t want to get it contaminated by radiation would they?
RG: Absolutely not.
TG: It didn’t matter about anything else but they’d be locked down there for a few days, wouldn’t they?
RG: Yes.
TG: With the luncheon, didn’t they? The luncheon meat and —
RG: I felt as though I knew everything about the Royal Observer Corps.
CB: What would you think Pete would have said was his most memorable experience in the war?
RG: Golly. That is a question. In the war.
TG: Well, only the things that he’d mentioned really because he didn’t go into that much detail. He mentioned the Scharnhorst thing because they lost those aircraft and they put it out of action for about a month. The loss of his crew, and those things we’ve already highlighted.
RG: I think he would probably have said it would be his mother in law’s cooked breakfast because when he was at home on leave nan, my nan would always make sure that he got the eggs and he got the bacon and had a good, you know a good breakfast. But I can’t think of anything on the raid side or operations that dad would talk about more than another.
TG: He just, he just did it.
RG: Yeah. I think the loss of his crew. He talked about that a bit but, yeah. No.
TG: It was a, it was a period in his life that —
RG: He just did.
TG: They did. And when it was over he wanted to put it behind him.
CB: Yes.
TG: And what he did subsequently was in complete and utter contrast. Wasn’t it? Growing plants and, and selling them. It wasn’t a noisy machine driven —
CB: Destructive force.
TG: Destructive force. It was a constructive effort.
RG: But all his hobbies and things were RAF connected. Yeah.
TG: They —
RG: Yeah. He had a great love of flying and things.
TG: He liked, liked flying. As I say. The Holbeach Club and his wireless op. His amateur radio and obviously the ROC, RAFA and all this sort of thing.
RG: My sister. My younger sister. She —
TG: There are three of them.
RG: Three of us.
TG: We’ll not mention Jane.
RG: Jane. She lived in Bath and she’d just bought this house and they were having it converted. Fantastic place it was and she wanted dad to see it. Now, dad was a very, very sick man and she wanted us to go. And I said, ‘Dad won’t survive a road trip or a train trip.’
TG: He had a heart attack when he was about seventy eight, so.
RG: Yeah. I said, ‘Dad won’t survive that, Jane. It’ll just absolutely knock him out.’ So she chartered a helicopter to come and fetch us.
TG: [unclear] anyway.
RG: Yeah. But dad was absolutely in his element. He, we set of from Fenland Airfield. Right. You know. Little Fen.
TG: In this helicopter.
RG: All his mates were watching him and this chappy in the uniform and off we went.
TG: To Bath.
RG: Terry and I went to Bath.
TG: With your dad.
RG: Yeah. With dad. And dad sat in the front like this. And as we got, we went over where Prince Charles lives. Highgrove, and that. And when we got —
TG: Highgrove. Yes.
RG: When we got near somewhere or other there was two Hercules in the sky. Now, helicopters fly quite low.
TG: It was over the —
CB: This is Lyneham.
TG: No.
RG: No.
TG: No. The one that was closest.
RG: No.
TG: Fairford.
RG: Where the —
TG: Fairford. It was closed at the time.
CB: Because —
RG: Yeah. Because they were converting for the —
CB: Americans. Yes.
RG: Yeah. Two helicopters, two Hercules were coming like this and we’d got, we were all sat in the back. Got these headsets on and I said, ‘Oh, oh look at those Hercules across there. Look at those.’ You know. We were coming like this. These two Hercules were coming like that. And I thought to myself I don’t know but we’re just a little bit too close to those. So I said to the pilot about these. I said, ‘Oh they’re a bit close to us, aren’t they?’ He went, ‘Silence in the cabin.’ Closed me. So then he kept saying to the radar people and whatever.
CB: Control room. Yes.
RG: Yeah. Control room. He kept saying such and such, ‘This is Echo Tango Lima 546,’ or whatever we were, ‘We are a Jet Ranger. We have five people on board. We are flying from Fenland Airfield in Lincolnshire to a private landing spot in Bath. We are a Jet Ranger. We have five — ’ And I kept thinking and I kept thinking, I kept thinking you keep telling them. And he kept saying it, repeating and the control place said you are de, de, de, der like this. And he kept saying and, ‘Yes. We are a Jet Ranger.’ And he kept repeating it. ‘We are a Jet Ranger.’ And then the call sign like that. I thought, yes you tell them who we are because when we hit there’s not going to be anything left of our Jet Ranger. And then all of a sudden this voice said whatever the call sign. ‘You are a Jet Ranger. You are flying — ’ you know repeated everything. He said, ‘Yes. We are.’ And the next minute our little helicopter, well it wasn’t a little one, we went down like this. We went right down like that. I thought I don’t like this, we’re going down, and these Hercules literally went over the top. And when we got calmed down the captain said, ‘Phew.’ And what it was the call sign of us was very similar to one of those Hercules and they’d got us muddled up.
CB: Oh.
RG: But do you know dad sat in the front and dad said something, ‘Well, Skip. That was a good, good shout.’ Or something like that.
TG: Good show.
RG: Good show. Yeah. And the fella said, ‘I bet you’ve had more experiences than that one.’ And dad said, ‘Yeah. But not as exciting,’ or something like that. But oh dear. But, yeah.
CB: Crikey.
RG: Dad was laid up for quite a few weeks after that one. Oh, you haven’t been recording me have you?
[recording paused]
RG: And he obviously had —
CB: So Terry I just want to go back to what talked about the parents of Tuesday coming down to see Pete. What do you think they were looking for?
TG: Well, Durham is a couple of hundred miles away from East Kirkby at least. And travel wouldn’t be very easy at that time. And they were there waiting for Peter when he returned from his, his short period of rest. Expressly having requested to see him. And there must have been a terrible gap in their yearning to find out more about their son in his last days and to speak to his closest friend of that time. His drinking mate. His flying mate. And Pete was able to fill them in. How they were. What his attitude was. What his spirits were like. Right up until the last time he saw him which was obviously some time after his own parents. The fact that they went out to dinner with Pete when they were down there, the fact that the station commander had accepted them on to the base because it wouldn’t be easy for civilians to get on there at that time must have been a great —
RG: And the five pounds.
TG: Must have been a great comfort to them. And having then travelled home. Probably having had to stay down in Lincolnshire for a day or two. To post him the five pounds in recognition of both the comfort he’d brought to them and also for his recent commission, Pete’s commission, clearly shows to me that the effort that they put in the, that it’s the terrible desire to fill in the gaps in their son’s life as much as they could was for closure.
RG: And dad had done it.
TG: And Pete had fulfilled that and filled that gap as much as he possibly could. He brought them closure. And hopefully they went away, well clearly were much happier than they had have been. But to have lost him without any of this detail would have, they would have always wondered. And it wouldn’t have been an easy journey for them to make because they didn’t know what they were going to hear really.
[recording paused]
CB: So what did he particularly appreciate when he was on his trips?
TG: Coming home. He said, he said that often coming home particularly coming home they’d waste a huge amount of ammunition shooting at the Morning or the Evening Star. Whichever time of day Venus was up. When they were very tense and they thought maybe there were fighters waiting for them to land. But one of the loveliest sights he said was the landscape below. England was always greener and he knew he was in England just from the colour, the density of the green rather than on the continent. He didn’t look out for the Cathedral as, as a lot of crews did. Boston Stump was the, was, was more visible than the Cathedral when they came home.
CB: The Lincoln Cathedral.
TG: Than Lincoln Cathedral. But he particularly loved the greenery. That’s more than anything else he loved to see the green green grass of home as they say. And it was greener than over the water.
CB: Thank you.
[recording paused]
CB: I want to take you both together.
RG: Oh dear.
CB: And where shall we do it because it’s nice here. Or we can for it outside?
TG: You can do it outside. Or wherever you like.
RG: Yeah. Do it where you like.
CB: Well, we just have the picture with you.
RG: Yeah.
CB: Just hold it between you. It’ll be nice to do it outside wouldn’t it?
RG: I’ll put a bit of lipstick on I think.
TG: She’s got to do her hair.
CB: That’s good. Let me in the meantime just write my email address on there.
TG: I’ll try and send you three and four at a time. Or whatever.
CB: Whatever. Yeah.
TG: Yeah. I’ll just get my shoes on.
CB: Ok.
[pause]
RG: Yes. It would be quite appropriate to be in our garden.
CB: Well, I think so.
RG: Dad and I spent an awful lot of time on it.
CB: Did you? Yes. I think it looks super. Well, I’m looking to move. To downsize my house.
RG: Oh yes. I don’t —
CB: Thank you.
RG: What was I going to say? I think we ought to downsize.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Interview with Rachel and John Gill
Creator
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Chris Brockbank
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-09-30
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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AGillRA-JT170930
Conforms To
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Pending review
Pending revision of OH transcription
Format
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01:38:47 audio recording
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Second generation
Description
An account of the resource
Peter Hazeldene joined the RAF from Wales when he saw a poster to see the world from a different perspective. He trained as a wireless operator and during training suspected a couple of incidents of sabotage on the base. Peter was posted to 106 Squadron at RAF Finningley. On a mining operation they were hit by anti-aircraft fire. It was only when they returned to base they realised the rear gunner was dead and his turret was awash with blood. On another occasion the flight engineer apparently went berserk and Peter had to subdue him by hitting him with an ammunition box. After his first tour of operations Peter was seconded to the Americans at Polebrook as an instructor. He then was posted to RAF East Kirkby with 57 Squadron. While he was on leave he returned to find his crew were dead or missing. The parents of his pilot travelled to East Kirkby to meet him and come to terms with the death of their son. He started a third tour at RAF Syerston and completed several operations before the war ended. After the stress of operations Peter suffered terrible flashbacks and nightmares for the rest of his life.
Contributor
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Julie Williams
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
France
Great Britain
England--Nottinghamshire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Yorkshire
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943
1944
1944-06-05
1944-06-06
106 Squadron
57 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
B-17
bale out
bombing
bombing of the Normandy coastal batteries (5/6 June 1944)
crash
Distinguished Flying Cross
final resting place
Gneisenau
H2S
Hampden
Heavy Conversion Unit
heirloom
killed in action
lack of moral fibre
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
memorial
mine laying
Morse-keyed wireless telegraphy
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
RAF Cranwell
RAF East Kirkby
RAF Finningley
RAF Husbands Bosworth
RAF Market Harborough
RAF Metheringham
RAF Polebrook
RAF Syerston
RAF Upper Heyford
RAF West Freugh
RAF Wigsley
Royal Observer Corps
Scharnhorst
Stirling
take-off crash
training
wireless operator / air gunner
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/843/10837/AGrayG160223.1.mp3
6e92d75aba3a539003690416ab8919c3
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Gray, Gilbert
Gilbert A Gray
G A Gray
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with GIlbert Gray (- 2023, 1823011 Royal Air Force). He flew operations as a flight engineer with 106 Squadron.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-02-12
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. 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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Gray, G
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
GG: Up in Dunfermline, and that was within a stone’s throw, roughly three miles of ‘Bristle which is now the site of Dalgety Bay in the east.
Unknown: [Muffled speech]
BB: OK.
GG: And there was a constant stream of aircraft, and of course one. There was Hurricanes, Wellingtons, Martlets and so on. So I, In 1939 I entered, but War was declared on September the third, a few days. Nothing terribly much had been happening in the War, so the school reopened on October the 16th that day we heard strange noises in the sky and this was, in fact, the first raid on the mainland of Britain by Heinkels. At school I joined the Air Training Corps and had my very first flight at Donibristle, in a Swordfish, the open cockpit of a Swordfish. And after I left school I joined the Royal Observer Corps and served in the centre in Dunfermline. And we plotted all kinds of aircraft, from all sorts of aerodromes that existed in central Scotland. And we used to watch the track of what we called ‘Weather Willy’ over the North Sea. A German aircraft I presume collecting weather information. At eighteen and a half of course I enlisted. I was determined to be a pilot but I was told ‘We have too many pilots, they’re training all over the world, but if you want to go in right away you can go as an air gunner or a flight engineer.’ I chose flight engineer and in the middle of March I was off to Aircrew Recruiting Centre in London, the first time I had ever been away from home by myself. And there we were. We had our first introduction to discipline and that sort of thing, although I had been well served in the Air Training Corps because much of it I already knew. From ACRC we were soon sent up to Bridlington, to Initial Training Wing where we learned more of marching and aircraft recognition and weather, meteorology and that sort of thing. From there we were sent to flight engineers’ training at No 4 School of Technical Training at St Athan in South Wales. A course which last roughly six months or so in the course of which, well first part given over to instruction and various things mechanical, until the time came for us to be allocated to particular aircraft training. And I was fortunate enough to be selected to go on Lancasters and completed the training. And we marched past when we graduated with our sparkling new sergeant’s stripes. We got rid of our white cadets’ outfits and our caps and we had, of course, a flight engineer brevet to sew on so the needles were flying that night before the graduation. From there it was I think November 1943 or thereabouts, we were then sent to aircrew commanders school, so called at Scampton, the aerodrome from which the Dambusters flew on their great attack on the dams. Incidentally, I seem to remember as a boy, it must have been in 1942 when I was interested in aircraft, I heard a strange noise approaching from roughly the south, and lo and behold over the treetops came a vic of three Lancasters. And they rode over our house, virtually treetop height, and I can only believe that that was the Dambusters in one of their training flights before the Dambusters raid. Aircrew Commanders’ School, we had various physical training. We were kitted out there too, but at Christmas 1943 we were sent home for a short leave, after which I was posted to 1654 Heavy Conversion Unit at Wigsley, just outside Lincoln. And after some ground training there I flew for the first time in a Stirling which was a training aircraft there, dual controlled Stirlings. First flight February 23rd 1944. I was now in Bomber County. Well first flights in the Stirling were not all that exciting because I was very airsick. I had been crewed up with a Flying Officer Walters but I required medication so I was removed from that crew and had medical treatment and when I was deemed fit enough I joined Sergeant Brown’s crew. It was unusual for a pilot at that stage, to be simply a sergeant. However, Peter was an excellent pilot. I flew first with him on March the 3rd in 1944. And at this conversion unit we completed our eighteen exercises day and night, cross country’s, bombing practice and so on. Our bombing practice of course took place at Wainfleet on the Wash. No 5 Lanc finishing school came next where we met the Lancaster. And of course we were just amazed at its versatility after the fairly clumsy Stirling. And the thing I remember was that, I rather think our pilot, our instructor pilot was showing off a bit because we flew solo over the Wash, so we were leaving a wash literally behind us. And lifted the wing over Skegness pier, that sort of thing. But it was only a very short course only a few days really. I think about four days and of course we had been trained in three engine flying and that sort of thing because there was always a danger of losing an engine. Our short stay at Syerston led us to 106 Squadron based at Metheringham and one of the crews in No 54 base which as one then learned later was a rather, what one might call a crack [unclear] base which had Pathfinder squadrons. It had 617 Squadron and Mosquito as well. Unknown to us, we had been posted there five days after a rather disastrous attack as far as the squadron was concerned on I think it was, Schweinfurt, when five crews had been lost. And as we now know on one, in one of the aircraft was Warrant Officer Jackson, and we all know of his remarkable exploit resulting in the awarding of the Victoria Cross. Well we were one of the five crews moved to the squadron to replace the five crews that were lost on that night. A few days later having been acclimatised to the Lanc on the squadron and the various squadron procedures we were sent across to Coningsby to the 54 Base headquarters to pick up a brand new Lancaster straight from the factory. LL953 which was labelled with the squadron letters ZNC-Charlie. And that was on May the 4th in 1944. After a few exercises of getting used to, again squadron procedures and so on we were sent on our first operation on the 7th of May, a few days later. We were sent to a huge ammunition factory cum ammunition dump in the middle of France. Twelve of us were part of an attack of, I think fifty seven aircraft all together, but 106 sent twelve. Eight of us came back. We didn’t really realise it but very much in hindsight one realises that this was now really the beginning of the softening up process for the invasion that was due in June. We were beginning to take out targets which would cripple the enemy and protect the Normandy landing areas. As I say we lost four aircraft that night. Well in May 1997, fifty three years later I attended a memorial celebration at a tiny village called [?] the village where one of our crews had crashed that night. And this village wanted to remember these airmen, the seven airmen, by raising or by raising a memorial in their cemetery and by holding really a day long celebration. Fifty three years later in France the people wished to remember those lads. Those seven lads who were killed. Well two nights later and we begin to realise that we’re in a pretty hectic period we were sent to [?] which was on the outskirts of Paris and which was a big mechanical factory of, mainly of I believe of tanks and that sort of thing. This was a time when the authorities began to say ‘Well, these are easy trips to France compared with those who went to Berlin and other hotspots and so they decided that each operation now would be worth one third of an operation. Which meant that crews normally restricted to about thirty four would now be asked to do three times as many operations. However, about this time there was an attack on a military camp in Belgium at Burg airport and there was a very heavy loss of aircraft. I think if I remember correctly over forty aircraft where shot down in that attack. So, the authorities quickly changed their minds and realised this was a different situation because we were now operating within the fighter belts which were just as dangerous as the anti-aircraft resorts. We were sent, as I say we were really now in the, the leading up to the invasion, although we didn’t know it, so we were attacking railways as well. We were sent to Tours unfortunately our receiver went u/s and we had to be, had to turn back. But again on the 31st of May connected with the invasion we were sent to attack coastal batteries at Messe. But again we had trouble with our hydraulics and after attacking we were diverted to another aerodrome, to Chipping Warden, where we could land safely. But along came then D-Day. Just another operation as far as we were concerned. And we attacked the batteries at [?], which were on the American sector, where the Americans rangers had a dreadful time. But we, I remember, took off at two in the morning so we were there something like two hours before the attack on the ground took place. And we were flying on, it was a very cloudy morning, we were really flying between two layers of cloud we were at about ten thousand feet but we got a glimpse of their markers marking the aiming point and we attacked, I think successfully. But we soon went into cloud again. However, there we were out of the cloud at one point and four Fokker Wolf’s appeared. Fokker Wolf’s which was the German hotshot fighter.
BB: The 190’s?
GG: The 190 and two of them attacked and we saw their red tracers.
BB: Tracers.
GG: Coming towards us seemingly very, very slowly and when they reached us, [whooshing sound], past they went, luckily they missed us and our rear gunner was yelling ‘Get into the cloud, get into the cloud.’ And that we did and we got away safely. The next night on that, indeed on that very night, we were sent back to Caen where we were attacking the bridges, really quite low, about three thousand feet or so when we attacked, a lot of fighters about, and indeed we were attacked again by a Junkers 188 and we got some slight damage, the Perspex on the [unclear] above our heads in the cabin splintered and we got little cuts but nothing very much. So, we lost two aircraft that night, including our flight commander, Squadron Leader Sprawson, I remember. Anyway, that was really the invasion hotting up. The next few nights were very busy. 8th, 10th, 12th, 14th, 15th all evening attacks. Railways in Renne, railway junctions, Orleans. Ten of us from our squadron were sent to attack the railways south of Orleans, attack it, we attacked it for about thirty miles from one thousand feet and some of us, some of the crews were a bit more audacious, and went down to seven hundred. So, there was always a danger of being damaged by your own bombs. However, we did it and we tore up this railway line for about, as I say, thirty miles or so. Next night the same at Poitiers, more railways, Aunay-sur-Odon. On the 14th the armies were held up and there was a big concentration of troops gathered at this particular place, Aunay-sur-Odon, and we, it was a very heavy attack and we bombed I think from about seven thousand feet and the place was obliterated. This was part of the job of helping the armies to get through. Chateauroux fuel dumps, lots of fighters were out that night. And so it went on. We had done how many ops? About ten or so and it was time to be checked out by the wing commander. So, he took us up for an air test to see that we were behaving and performing well. And the aircraft we flew was AJG-George, held on our squadron. Which was the aircraft, that was, these were the letters of the aircraft which Wing Commander Gibson used in the bombing of the dams. He, of course, had been in the previous year, commander of 106 Squadron. However, at this time flying bombs came on the scene and London was being attacked and the South East of England was being attacked so some of our attacks now were switched to them.
BB: The V1 sites?
GG: The V1 sites [unclear] on the 18th of June. It was really quite difficult. The weather at this particular time was a hindrance I remember. But for these attacks, some which were to be made in daylight, our aircraft had their markings changed. The aircraft marking on the side of the aircraft, on 106 at any rate, was done in white. White letters, and on the tail fin it was repainted white with a green stripe, I presume so that different squadrons could be recognised. 21st of June, we’re back to the city. To the attacking of German industry, particularly the oil industry in Gelsenkirchen or a place called [unclear]. It was a terrifying night, because as we approached the target, I think I said in a letter back home I describe it as a red carpet set out for us. But it was a funny red carpet because it was a very dangerous one. This was the anti-aircraft fire over the target. But we had to turn towards it and go into it. Luckily, we got through it unharmed although our bomb aimer that spotted something had seemed ominous because he had noticed in front of us three successive anti-aircraft fire shells bursting in front of us in line with us. And he told the pilot ‘Look I think we’re being predicted here.’ The Germans could do that by fixing onto you and predicting your track. He says ‘I think we should turn a little bit to port.’ A few minutes later Wally at the back reported anti-aircraft explosion just where we probably had been. So, in that respect I suppose we were lucky, but on the way home, and as I now know, dead on track having done their attack. As we crossed the [unclear] Sea on the way home two of our aircraft were shot down by a night fighter. Of course, you or I back home you don’t know what’s happened to them. But many, many years, forty or fifty years later, I now know what happened to them because of links with a friend in the Netherlands. All that time later, from 1944 to 19, 2014 there came to be a message from the Netherlands from one, a gentleman called Beyard, who is an aircraft researcher. And he sent me an email containing a photograph of an electric motor. And it had come from a school who were doing a project because obviously the aircraft which had crashed nearby, in fact the two aircraft crashed very close to each other. The aircraft had been excavated, and the school now had possession of an electric motor. Where was it placed on the machine, on the aircraft? Now, I had to think now where would it be? But I was able to say well it had probably served various lighting, for example, in the aircraft and various bits and pieces of apparatus. And this developed into a real project, in fact a real memorial celebration in this village of [?] I think it was called. The school arranged this. I was invited by Herr Beyard to be connected with it because he had, in his research, tried to track down relatives of the crew but he couldn’t find anyone and the only one he could find who took part in that attack on that night was myself. And so, to cut a long story short I sent an article to them to be used in the ceremony and it was translated into Dutch and Mr Beyard recited it at the ceremony which was a very large, turned out to be a very large ceremony I think. And at the end of it the school children released balloons, and each had a tag with the name of a crew member. And as he said in his message to me, ‘We had an easterly wind that day and we do hope that some of these balloons reached Britain.’
BB: Did they?
GG: Oh, I really don’t know. By coincidence, not far away at the military ceremony at [?] the pilot, this particular pilot who was remembered by the school was Bellingham and his crew. Not far away the other crew that were shot down, pilot Jim Brodie who came from Paisley actually, he had a similar ceremony at [?] ceremony on the 1st of May I understand. All that time later and the crews are still remembered because the Dutch have a, seem to have an affinity with Bomber Command because they had such a wretched time. And rather than shout at the aeroplanes they were cheering the aeroplanes as they, as they passed over. Well, soon after we were back to flying bomb sites. And then in the middle of June we started formation flying. On three days we were formation flying, now that was really scary because we weren’t used to flying in formation and so close, flying in a vic you were turning to port for example the aircraft above you would start to slide in towards you. And we just weren’t.
BB: The risk was high then?
GG: We just were not used to this. And it transpires and Bomber Harris relates it in his book, that it was deemed by Dolittle of the Americans and himself that the time had come for a massive air attack by the Americans and ourselves on Berlin. Yes, on Berlin. And everything was set up and ready to go until Harris said ‘Now are all our fighters in place?’ Because we had to depend on fighter cover from the Americans. Our particular armament was pea shooters by comparison with the enemy fighters. And he discovered that there weren’t sufficient fighters to protect us. So, the effort was called off. So, I think that was a lucky escape because we had already been given our position under the main formation we were to lead a vic of three underneath the main formation.
BB: So the bomb risk must have been quite high?
GG: Maybe. So that was a relief to be relieved of that, although our neighbouring squadron 97 Squadron were on the same training, and two of their aircraft actually collided on formation flying and carried with them very senior members of the squadron. 29 of June we went on our very first daylight raid. Now that was very scary. But it was encouraging because I think we were flying quite high but this was a flying bomb area that we going to attack but we could see the Spitfires gliding above. Could see the sunlight sparkling off their canopies and so on which was a little cheering. We had a week’s leave after that. We shared, normally shared a Nissen hut with another crew. When we returned from leave their beds were empty, their cupboards were empty, because they had been shot down. While we had been on leave in two attacks on [?] which was a very large base for V weapons, we had lost from the squadron no fewer than seven aircraft. Two in the first attack, and five in the second, all by fighters. So ,it was quite a gloomy squadron that we returned to. It’s funny, many, many years later through squadron records and correspondence we discovered what happened to the crews. And I was particularly friendly with one in particular because he came, was a Scots lad, he was an engineer and came from Dysart, Kirkcaldy. And by coincidence my Father who was the local newspaper correspondent for the People’s Journal interviewed him because he had escaped. He had been protected by the French, and had finally got home and was back home and my Father interviewed him in Kirkcaldy. And I got in correspondence with his wife. Finally tracked her down. And she mentioned that on that particular night, Chick as she called him, Chick Swindley, had been on leave and was going back to the squadron. And he’d walked down the street from the house, he had turned and come back to her. And he said ‘Look don’t worry, because I’m going to be shot down but I’ll be OK.’ Now how’s that for premonition? And he was shot down, but he escaped. [?] was a very expensive thing. Back to railways, now there that was a long seven and a half hour trip. Now people tend to think we’re under attack all the time but in my letter home after that trip I described it as the most boring trip because nothing happened. We just flew there, dropped our bombs and flew back again. On the 17th we were, the Army had been held up at Caen, had difficulty in breaking through. So we were called upon, the air forces were called upon, to mount a huge attack on the Caen area to see if we could help the Army get through. We were given a particular target on the [?] , on the outskirts of Caen. And in fact I think we were, as I said in my letter home, we were supposed to bomb that particular morning but on that exercise there was something like four thousand five hundred aircraft involved. Huge heavy bombers and other areas roundabout Caen were attacked and well it was a pretty dreadful night, or day, for troops on the ground, imagine the German troops. On the target a few days later, to Kiel, to attack the naval establishments there. That meant a long trip to, well not a terribly long trip, about five hours probably. Low first of all over the North Sea, and then climb to bombing height and then we attacked Kiel. Two nights later, the 24th, we went to Stuttgart. Now it was one of the German industrial cities which had been difficult to attack because it lies in a valley on the River Neckar but we were tasked there and this was the first of a series of three raids I understand on the city. That night the flak, heavy anti-aircraft fire met us but we carried out our attack, seven and a half hours, nearly eight hours in the air. The following day we were operating in daylight, Sancerre, again helping the Army it was an airfield and signals centre. The following night [?], now that was a really long trip. Right across France, [?] being just south of Lyon. And apparently the Marquis were active in that area and we were sent to try and do something for them and we attacked the railway establishments there. We took off in a thunderstorm, we flew in a thunderstorm all the way there, thunderstorms, in heavy rain, the electricity was sparking between the guns on the aircraft.
BB: St Elmo’s fire?
GG: St Elmo’s fire. Because of the rain, and we had windscreen wipers, the electricity was dancing there and the pilot therefore we were, we were all being blinded by the flashes of lightning. And the pilot had to fly with his head below the screen so that he could see his instruments. That was a tough, a tough flight, a tiring flight, a very long flight. The following night we were out again, this time back to Stuttgart, and that night was a bad night, because thirty-nine Lancs were shot down that night and we came within an ace of being one of them because just after we dropped our bombs our rear gunner, who had a little instrument called ‘fish pond’, miniature television, little screen, and he noticed something that shouldn’t have been there, a little spot and he of course told us and not only that but our navigator, having heard us talk about the heavy flak the last time we were there had come out of his seat and was in the astrodome above looking out saying ‘Where, where, where’s all this heavy flak you were talking about?’ We said ‘Oh, that’s because the fighters are about.’ And sure enough, he apparently told me in a message later. He looked out of the port side of the aircraft and there was a fighter flying beside us. And [makes whooshing sound] just with that, a noise like that. Another aircraft that had come down from above us and had given us a burst. The fuselage behind me was like a pepper pot. The, as we discover later, as we were flying home and as daylight began to appear great shards of metal and we were very lucky, not one of us was hurt. But had it been a yard further forward on the aircraft I wouldn’t be here today. So that was Stuttgart. We got, we managed to get home. The pilot let me take over for a little while, as a flight engineer was able to do. And as daylight broke we saw the mess that the wings were in. But as we came home and were coming into land it was my job to check the under carriage, make sure it was down, it was locked, the tyres looked OK, and they certainly looked OK to me. But when we touched down, they must have, the one on the starboard side must have deflated and we swung off the runway. We had FIDO at Metheringham, which was fuel laden pipes along each side. Luckily we didn’t get involved with them, but that was a scary night. Then after I think many of our trips were concerned with flying bomb bases and we were then flying more frequently in daylight. I am listing, August the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 5th were all daylight, day after day. And then we switched later on in August, 6th of August we went to U boat pens at Lorient, and there again I think one or two aircraft where shot down in daylight, but we were flying with 617, they carried the very heavy bombs and we supported them on the U boat pens, but U boat pens were so well protected by many feet of concrete that it’s doubtful much damage was done.
BB: Were they using tall boys or grand slam?
GG: Now I couldn’t tell you.
BB: Big bombs?
GG: It would be the big ones, yes, yes. Again, oil storage tanks. We were coming to near the end of our tour we were getting a bit shaky, wondering if we were going to make it. We’d done what thirty-three? And we came to number thirty-four which was to be our last one. And it was a glorious autumn day, August the 11th and we were sent to Bordeaux, again to U boat pens. Four of us from our squadron wer sent ahead, about ten minutes ahead to calculate the winds and the altitude because the winds that the navigator, what the bomb aimer would be given at the start of our operation, might have changed and especially at that height so it had to be accurate so that the bomb aimers of the aircraft that were behind us could set their instruments properly. So, we then, we did that job and we came back and joined the main force and attacked the U boat pens. We carried that day the biggest bombs I think. No not the, they were rather different from the usual bombs we carried which were normally about five and a half tonnes. But these were, I think if I remember right, four armoured piercing thousand pound bombs in the most beautiful shapes. For this raid they attached ribbons to the ends so they could be watched as they were going down but I gather it wasn’t much of a success. Anyway we bombed these, did our job and got home safely. We were of course circling over the German airbase down below us wondering if a Messerschmidt was going to come up and visit us or not. But no, we were left alone and we got home safely and was the end of our, of our tour. Strangely enough a few years ago I was looking at the leisure section in the Sunday Times and there was an article on holidays in Bordeaux. And the visitors were advised to visit the Sous-Marine Bas, submarine base, which is now a leisure complex. [laughter] So we obviously didn’t do terribly much damage. So, there were are. That’s us finished on the squadron. A few days later we were dispersed. Now I had been with that crew only since February, February to August the 11th, but we had become so closely knit that these are the most important, some of the most important months of my life, and memory as many will know and conversation [laughs]. However, I was posted then to 1660 Heavy Conversion Unit back to Stirlings at Swinderby. Eventually we did the normal exercises, cross countries and all sorts of things, circuits and bumps. And eventually on the 2nd of March the Stirling was taken out of commission and they were stripped and, flown down, as we discover later to Woburn. We flew in a vic of three. The first one had its own equipment available of course, the other two were stripped down to the bare necessities and we landed in a clearing, as I remember, in a wood at Woburn which was quite near to another establishment where the aircraft were dismantled, destroyed. So, on that particular, on the 2nd of March 1945 the Lancasters appeared again to be used for the training. And we of course were delighted to see the first one arrive. It landed, taxied across, stopped outside the office and out popped a young lady. One of the Air Transport Auxiliaries had flown the Lancaster in and so until the end of the War we flew Lancasters. The War of course ended in August, was it?
BB: Yes.
GG: August ‘45. A month later on September the 15th it was decided to open military establishments to the public. Swinderby was one of them and it was decided to put on a show by the Lancaster which consisted of a sort of circuit of the aerodrome and a mock bombing run, and Squadron Leader Scorer took me as his flight engineer off in a vic of three. Imagine what we felt like all the crowd of people there and us in our flying gear. Anyway, we took off. But before we took off the pilot and I changed seats so that he could control the trio of us. And we took off with me in the pilot’s seat and him in my seat because we had dual controls on these instructional aircraft. So, we took off and we did a nice leisurely round of the airfield and then we did the mock bombing run you see down low over the airfield and then a coloured Very light was fired and we went up like the Red Arrows and as we went up we changed over again so that he could land in his proper seat. Now I think that that was the predecessor of what we now call Battle of Britain Day.
BB: Yes.
AG: The very first Battle of Britain Day. At that time too it was just, there were a number of trips to take ground crew on trips over Germany.
BB: Cooks tours?
GG: To see the kind of things that we had been doing and we called them as you say ‘Cooks Tours’ and it consisted of taking them down over the River Moselle, very low flying of course over the twists of the River Moselle, up to the Rhine, Cologne and so on and that way. And I can remember the first time we were there, I suppose we had about four ground crew in various parts of the aircraft but as we passed over the Hohenzollen Bridge in Cologne there was an explosion in the river which I presume was them trying to clear the mess that had been made during the War. So, we did a couple of these which were very pleasant. And that was really the end of my flying, I only flew I think once in the Lancaster after that and then we were then declared redundant. Air crew became redundant. I was sent to, first of all to Burn, and then up to Catterick where we were re-mustered, offered different jobs. And I chose equipment accounts which sounded quite a useful thing to do. So, I was sent over to Lancashire for a few weeks training and then I was to be posted overseas, and it was to be India. So we were sent down to Orpington to await our flight in one of the coldest November periods I have ever known. In a Nissen hut where the, where the fire wouldn’t work, [chuckles] chimney was blocked or something but it was a terrible time. But eventually we flew from there in a Liberator, stripped down Liberator. I was lucky. By that time I was a warrant officer so I got a privileged seat up at the back where there were two large windows of the Liberator where as the ‘odds and sods’ the other airman were in the old bomb bay in sort of canvas seats. Pretty uncomfortable. First stop was Castle Benito in North Africa. Onto Cairo West where the aircraft broke down so we were beside the pyramids for about a week, which was quite interesting. On to Shiba in Iraq and from there an overnight stop where I met a Glasgow lady in the canteen I remember. [chuckles] She was one of the WS ladies and onto Manipur in India. And there again we were, it was decided where we were to be posted to. And I was to be taken to [Habadi?] which is down near Madras, now Chennai and we converted to a Dakota. And we flapped our wings, crossed to Phuna first stop and then across to [?] which is not far from Madras. I spent a year working with accounts in an office, great opportunities of course we had so much spare time and I played a lot of football. And I played for the area team, played cricket with the station team, that sort of thing. Lot of swimming. It was a huge military establishment with the army, the Royal Works were with us and the navy and ourselves. So, it was a very interesting period in many, many ways. And served me in good stead later on as a teacher of geography.
BB: That’s excellent.
GG: Yes. However, in. Yes, I was there for about a year. I was brought back, we came back in the Britannic, twenty six thousand tons, back through the Red Sea, Suez Canal, Mediterranean in a terrible storm. We picked up a band at the Canal Zone, a military band, and they played on the after deck and we came up the Bay of Biscay watching the gannets and the flying fish and that sort of thing. Great experience but when we got to Liverpool we couldn’t see the side of the river because it was foggy in early November. Funnily enough, well I had a leave of course when I got home, but I was posted back for a few months before my demob back to Swinderby of all places. But we had become very aware of a change. I suppose a reversion to the old ways of the regular air force, petty discipline. I can remember I noticed airman are not allowed to walk past the Officers’ Mess at such and such a time. Things like that. And in the office there was an elderly flight sergeant who was in charge where I was working. And he was a grumpy old guy [chuckles] and by that time, oh I forgot to mention while I was in India, and by that time I was a warrant officer, the Labour government had come into power after the War in 1946, and they introduced a new pay code for the services. And while I was a warrant officer the new pay code designated me as Aircrew 2 and I had to divest myself of the warrant officer’s badge and substitute sergeant’s stripes.
BB: The gratitude of a grateful nation.
GG: Exactly, exactly. Not only that but our pay for various reasons was reduced slightly, so I was a bit annoyed. It was very degrading, literally. Anyway, yes I was in this office with the grumpy old flight sergeant and my time for demob came. February the 7th 1947. And in the office where I worked there was a German prisoner of war, with this big circle, coloured circle on the back. And as I was leaving, the very last person to wish me good luck was Wolfgang. And I thought well doesn’t that tell a story? The futility of war?
BB: Yes, it does yes.
GG: Yes. So, it was a good way to end.
BB: Yes.
GG: And after a little leave I managed to get into university. I wanted to do a normal degree but I was told ‘Your qualifications from school are too good.’ [laughs] so I had to, I was offered an honours degree in English, Mathematics or Geography.
BB: Good choice.
GG: To my delight. So, that’s my story.
BB: Thank you very much. A very interesting and lovely story to hear. More importantly you survived the War to be with us today.
G: That’s right.
BB: Today, that’s wonderful. Thank you very much indeed, thank you.
GG: A privilege to do it and I’ve enjoyed doing it because it has taken me back to various documents, some that I have written myself just to refresh my mind and perhaps get a new flavour of the thing altogether and when I add to that the career that I’ve had and the family that I’ve got, well, I’ve been richly blessed.
BB: You managed to avoid the Grim Reaper and that’s the main thing.
GG: Yes, yes.
BB: And you’ve published some of your accounts in your books. The Saltire Aircrew Association also has your stories up.
GG: Oh yes, yes.
BB: Jack was, I’m very pleased that Jack put me in touch.
GG: Yes.
BB: Thank you very much indeed.
GG: And I’ve met you, it’s been a real pleasure.
BB: Thank you very much, I’m honoured, thank you very much.
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Interview with Gilbert Gray
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Bruce Blanche
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IBCC Digital Archive
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2016-02-12
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AGrayG160223
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00:57:10 audio recording
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
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Germany
Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
France
Netherlands
India
France--Aunay-sur-Odon
Temporal Coverage
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1942
1943
1944-02-23
1944-03-03
1944-05-04
1944-06-14
1944-06-15
Description
An account of the resource
Gilbert Gray grew up in Dunfermline, joining the Air Training Corps before enlisting in the Royal Air Force as a flight engineer in 1940, aged 18 years. He trained at RAF St Athan in Wales, graduated as a sergeant and was posted onto Lancasters. He completed his training on 1654 Heavy Conversion Unit at RAF Wigsley and No. 5 Lancaster Finishing School at RAF Syerston before arriving at 106 Squadron, RAF Metheringham, in May 1944. He describes his first operation, to an ammunition factory in France and then the hectic pre and post D-Day activity in June 1944. He talks about surviving attacks by Fw 190s, predicted Flak, the phenomena of St. Elmo’s Fire, and landing with a burst mainwheel tyre. He also speaks about coming back off leave to find empty beds and of a friend’s premonition of survival after being shot down. Gilbert tells of the crew’s nerves as they approached the last operation of their tour and the wrench of splitting up the closely-knit crew afterwards. Posted to 1660 HCU he saw the Lancasters replace Stirlings for training and took part in the first post-war air show at RAF Swinderby. Remustering to an administration role, Gilbert was posted to India and spent a leisurely year playing lots of sport before returning to Britain to work with a ‘grumpy’ flight sergeant until his demobilsation in February 1947. He also recounts how, in 2014, he helped a Dutch school identify a part from a crashed Lancaster and wrote a speech for a Lancaster crew memorial service, held in Holland.
Contributor
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Andy Fitter
Conforms To
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Pending revision of OH transcription
106 Squadron
1654 HCU
1660 HCU
617 Squadron
Air Transport Auxiliary
aircrew
anti-aircraft fire
bombing
Cook’s tour
crash
fear
FIDO
flight engineer
Fw 190
Heavy Conversion Unit
Ju 88
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
memorial
military discipline
military ethos
military service conditions
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
RAF Metheringham
RAF Scampton
RAF St Athan
RAF Swinderby
RAF Syerston
RAF Wigsley
sport
Stirling
superstition
tactical support for Normandy troops
training
V-1
V-weapon
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/886/11084/OHudsonJD173116-151001-030005.2.jpg
c1703c78d0197b572b25ab94fb4179d9
Dublin Core
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Title
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Hudson, Douglas
James Douglas Hudson
J D Hudson
Description
An account of the resource
529 items. Collection concerns Pilot Officer James Douglas Hudson, DFC (755052 Royal Air Force) who joined the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve in June 1939 and trained as an observer. While on route to Malta in August 1940 his Blenheim crashed in Tunisia and he was subsequently interned for two and a half years by Vichy French in Tunisia and Algeria. After being freed he returned to Great Britain and after navigator retraining completed a tour of 30 operations on 100 Squadron. The collection contains letters to and from his parents and from French penfriends while interned in Tunisia and Algeria, newspaper cuttings of various events, logbooks and lists of operations, official documents and photographs. A further 23 items are in two sub-collections with details of navigator examinations and postcards of Laghouat Algeria.<br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Elizabeth Smith and Yvonne Puncher and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.<br />
<p>This collection also contains items concerning Louis Murray and Harry Bowers. Additional information on <a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/202827/">Harry Bowers</a> and <a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/220410/">Louis Murray</a> is available via the IBCC Losses Database.</p>
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2015-06-16
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. Some items have not been published in order to protect the privacy of third parties, to comply with intellectual property regulations, or have been assessed as medium or low priority according to the IBCC Digital Archive collection policy and will therefore be published at a later stage. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collection-policy.
Identifier
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Hudson, JD
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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Bombed Bremen From 50 Feet
[Picture]
Sergeant Norman J. Giblin, R.A.F.V.R., awarded the D.F.M, now missing.
DARING R.A.F. bomber crews who carried out raids on Bremen, one in daylight and from a height of 50ft., are in a list of awards for gallantry.
They are: -
Pilot – Officer Waples, R.A.F. R.A.F.V.R., No. 21 Squadron, and Pilot-Officer Alister Stewart Ramsay, R.A.F.V.R., No 105 Squadron who receive the D.F.C.; Sgt. Gerald Douglas Prior Quinn, No. 106 Squadron, who gets a bar to his D.F.M.; and Flt-Sgt. Frederick John Patterson and Sgt. Norman Joseph Giblin, R.A.F.V.R., No. 21 Squadron. and Sgt. Robert Hesketh Nuttall, No. 115 Squadron, who get the D.F.M.
Sergeant Giblin was born at Preston in 1920. His father lives at Withington, Manchester. He was a local government officer before enlisting in the R.A.F.V.R. in April, 1939, as air observer.
Pilot-Officer Waples, Flt-Sergt. Patterson, and Sergt. Giblin were pilot, wireless operator-air gunner, and observer of a plane which successfully bombed Bremen from low level last month.
On the return journey the plane was attacked by two fighters, but Flt-Sergt. Patterson, by his timely and accurate instructions, enabled the pilot to take successful avoiding action. Then the aircraft was attacked by three fighters, but Flt.-Sergt. Patterson destroyed one and assisted his pilot again by giving him invaluable evasive instructions.
The parents of Sergeant Giblin, who live in Old Moat-lane. Withington, have been informed that he is missing. They are confident he will “turn up”, for it is not the first time he has failed to return from an operational flight. Last November he dropped into the North Sea, but was picked up by a convoy and came home safely.
Sergeant Giblin, who is 20, was educated at St. Bede’s College, Manchester, and was an accountant in the Manchester Corporation Electricity Department. His father, Mr J.J Giblin, is a Corporation bus guard.
THROUGH BALLOON BARRAGE
Pilot-Officer Ramsay and Sergt. Quinn were the air observer navigator and wireless operator air gunner of the leading aircraft of a formation which made a daylight bombing attack on Bremen on July 4. Flying through a balloon barrage and meeting with most determined and accurate fire from the ground, they attacked the town centre from 50 feet up.
Sergt. Quinn was wounded in the leg, but remained at this post, maintaining wireless watch and assisting Pilot-Officer Ramsey materially in navigating the aircraft safely back to its base.
Sergt. R. Hesketh Nuttall was rear gunner in an aircraft which attacked Bremen one night this month.
D.F.C FOR NIGHT FIGHTER
The D.F.C. also goes to Wing Commander David Francis William Atcherley of No. 25 squadron. He has carried out a large amount of operational flying at night and has destroyed three enemy aircraft at night. His father lives at York.
Sgt. Henson, though shot in the neck during a daylight attack on Merville Aerodrome, remained at the controls for an hour and landed his machine safely. The observer stopped the flow of blood from Henson’s neck by placing his thumb over a vein.
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Title
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Bombed Bremen from 50 feet
Description
An account of the resource
RAF bomber crews who carried out attacks on Bremen, one in daylight and from height of 50 feet are listed for gallantry awards. Goes on with lists and describes actions of Pilot Officer Waples 21 Squadron, Pilot Office Alister Stewart Ramsay, 105 Squadron, Distinguished Flying Cross. Sergeant Douglas Prior Quinn. 106 Squadron, Flight Sergeant Frederick John Patterson and Sergeant Norman Joseph Giblin, 21 Squadron who were awarded Distinguished Flying Medal. Account of action for award of Distinguished Flying Cross for night fighter Wing Commander David Frances William Atcherley, 25 Squadron and Distinguished Flying Medal for Sergeant J K Henson.
Format
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One newspaper cutting
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Identifier
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OHudsonJD173116-151001-030005
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Germany
Germany--Bremen
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
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Georgie Donaldson
105 Squadron
106 Squadron
21 Squadron
25 Squadron
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/899/11139/AJacksonDM171130.2.mp3
1afde4d3c12a3c8d0bc1a7b452422441
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Jackson, Norman
N Jackson
Description
An account of the resource
Four items. An oral history interview with David Jackson about his father Norman Jackson VC (1919 - 1994), his service record and two photographs.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by David Jackson and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-11-30
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Jackson, N
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
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CB: [unclear] [laughs] My name is Chris Brockbank and today is the 30th of November 19, 2017 and we are in Kingswood in Surrey talking to David Jackson whose father was Norman Jackson VC and we are going to start off with earliest recollections of father’s life. So, what were the first [unclear] there?
DJ: Oh, good afternoon Chris. My father was born in Ealing in London on the 8th of April 1919. He was born to a single mother who put my father up for adoption. My father was adopted by a Mr and Mrs Gunter who lived in Twickenham. They were a professional family as far as I know. They certainly had a lovely house in Camac Road, Twickenham, they also adopted, just after dad another lad by the name of Geoffrey, Geoffrey Hartley. My father and Geoffrey grew up together, very close as half-brothers, my father was educated in Twickenham at Archdeacon Cambridge School, he stayed there until the age of sixteen where after gaining his school certificate joined an engineering company, he always had an interest in engineering. At the start of the Second World War in September 1939 my father decided that he wanted to volunteer, join the military services so he first he tried to join the Royal Navy but was told they weren’t actually recruiting at that time and so thought he would try the Royal Air Force where he was accepted. He was sent to RAF Halton where he took a further apprenticeship in engineering on airframes etcetera, from there once qualified, he joined 95 Squadron which was Sunderland flying boats, as a fitter he was sent to Africa, North East Africa which was Freetown where he served his time on Sunderland flying boats, he returned in 1942, in summer of ’42 where his intention was to join Bomber Command as a flight engineer, prior to that in 1939 he’d actually met my mother, Alma Lilian, they became engaged in 1940 when my father was then sent to North Africa and my, they didn’t see each other for two years, on my father’s return they organised their wedding which was on Boxing Day in 1942. ’43 my father started his training as an engineer on Bomber Command, joined his first squadron later that summer in ’43 which is 106 Squadron at that time based at Syerston in Lincolnshire soon to be sent to RAF Metheringham where the squadron was then based, flew several missions including ten to Berlin, several incidents during his tour of operations with Bomber Command, got shot up, engines out of action, very heavy landings with Fred Mifflin the pilot who they considered taking off flying actually and retraining because he couldn’t land the Lancaster without bouncing it, one day that led in a crosswind situation where they switched runways on a heavy crosswind and my father, the aircraft crashed with a heavy landing losing his undercarriage, my father suffered a broken leg at that time but even with a broken leg managed to get Fred Mifflin, he was in a bit of a, had a few problems inside the cockpit and managed to drag him out but was patched up and continued flying with a broken leg for further six weeks. Thirty missions were completed because my father actually had volunteered with another crew, his flight engineer wasn’t able to go one night, father stood in, so he reached his thirty missions’ quota before the rest of the crew. On the night of the 27th of April 1944, target designated was Schweinfurt in Germany, father volunteered to go along with the rest of the crew to see them through, this would be his thirty first mission, they took off on time, prior to the take-off my father had received a telegram to say that his first child, my oldest brother Brian had been born, he went along on the mission, they hit a head wind which slowed them up and when they arrived over the target they seemed to be alone but they went ahead, bombed, and by turning out and all of a sudden Sandy Sandelands the wireless operator spoke to Fred Mifflin the pilot over the intercom telling him he had a blip on his fishpond screen, his radar screen, he felt that blip could be a night fighter, they all braced themselves and waited, he then came back, Sandy Sanderson said it’s closer, it’s fast, it’s definitely a night fighter and then before they knew it the aircraft was being racked with cannon fire, my father was thrown to the ground, he was injured at that time with shell splinters, on recovering his position in the cockpit he noticed that the starboard wing had a fire just inside the engine area, he tried to feather the engine which he did, he feathered it, but the fire was still raging out there because it was basically in the wing where the fuel tank was. He decided at that time that he could deal with it, he got the, asked the permission of Fred the pilot, he felt he could deal, so he said, he could actually climb out on the wing with a fire extinguisher with the aid of the crew if he jettison his parachute, Fred Mifflin looked at him incredulously but said, ok, go ahead, so Dad took the cockpit axe which had an ice pick end on it, he took a fire extinguisher from inside the cockpit which he placed inside his tunic, his flying tunic, the bomb aimer and the navigator stood by as Dad climbed onto the navigator’s table and jettisoned the hatch above there which is just behind the pilot’s seat, he then deployed his parachute so that navigator and bomb aimer could hold onto the rigging lines, whilst had sorted the lines out Dad then climbed through the hatch and into the two hundred mile and hour slipstream, it was icy cold, he said he always remembered how cold it was, he inched his way out keeping close to the fuselage, trying not to have the slipstream affect him any more than it would, he used the ice pick on the axe to fire into the side of the fuselage to give him some purchase and then pulled himself down towards the wing root which was below him and toward the aerial intake at the front of the wing where he managed to get his left hand in to hold on, he then removed the fire extinguisher from his flying jacket and started dealing with, knocked the end of the fire extinguisher off on the front of the wing, the extinguisher started and he started to deal with the fire, he felt he was doing ok and the fire started to die down, at that point the wing lifted below him and the aircraft started to bank to the left. He was then, he then realised that the fighter must have found them again, the fighter came in, racked the aircraft again with machine gun and cannon fire, my father was hit several times with shell splinter and bullets, the wing blew up around him, engulfing him in flames, the slipstream from the aircraft as it slipped to the port side and down, lifted my father off the wing and he was thrown backwards, he came to an abrupt halt just behind the rear of the aircraft because he was still attached to the cockpit via his rigging lines and parachute, as he was being dragged down through the air, those inside the cockpit thought Dad had been killed but thought they’d get the parachute out anyway, they scrambled as best they could to get the shoot out as it been ripped, as it went through the hatch above the navigators table, it also suffered damage through the fire, my father then left the aircraft as the parachute went out through the hatch, he descended to ground quite rapidly, hit the ground very, very heavily, smashed both ankles, he laid there in a pitiful state, ankles smashed, his hands and face were severely burned, his right eye was completely closed, he also had several shell and shrapnel wounds in his body, he lay there until first light, he then crawled on elbows and knees through the forest and came across a small cottage, he approached the cottage and with his elbow knocked on the door, a window opened above him and a male voice shouted, was ist da? My father said, RAF. The voice from the window upstairs once again said, was ist da? My father cleared his voice as best he could and said in a louder voice, RAF. The voice from above shouted, Terror Flieger! Churchill gangster! And the window closed. Dad then heard the window opening and expected to be kicked and punched but there were a couple of girls inside, who took father in and laid him on a settee and started attending to him, their father, who was the person in the window upstairs, disappeared through the door, he returned a little while later with a policeman and a chap who Dad thought must have been Gestapo was in plain clothes, they then took Dad off of the settee and my father, supported by the policeman was made to march to the local police station. A the police station he was placed into a [unclear], he was in wheels through the streets to the local hospital, en route he suffered verbal abuse and even some stones but he always said he understood this, at the hospital he was treated very well, he stayed in the hospital for several months, he was then transferred to a prisoner of war camp where he served out his time, he escaped once, he tried to, was recaptured, at the end of the war he was repatriated along with the other, the rest, the surviving members of the crew. The surviving members of the crew told my father’s story, my father got a call from a WAAF officer he said who asked if that was warrant officer Norman Cyril Jackson, he said, yes, it was, and she said, I’m just calling you to let you know you’ve been awarded the Victoria Cross. My father’s words were, what the bloody hell for?
CB: We’ll pause there for a moment. That’s. Now in terms of picking up a bit more of detail on this, they got hit and hit badly twice by the fighter or fighters but in general in the dark you can’t see anything that’s going on but you can be seen so what did he feel about flying in these sorties?
DJ: My father, I can remember my father saying that on every single mission they flew which was obviously at night, very dark unless you had a full moon which sometimes light you up, you were, they used to have the four Merlin engines on the Lancaster, and what was a concern to them all the time was the exhaust of the Merlin engine which had basically bright flames coming out of it and that always made the Lancaster visible, they felt from inside the cockpit to anything that was out there but they also had pleasure in seeing that coming out because they knew the engines were still running, so it was basically almost a double edged sword, one you needed to see the exhaust as Dad said to make sure they are all running properly but the other you knew you were a possible target to anyone that was out there that you couldn’t see but they could see you.
CB: And in his training going back a bit he was originally trained as a ground engineer
DJ: Correct, yes.
CB: At what stage and how did he do it, did he get into flying? [unclear]
DJ: This would have happened in Africa, in Freetown when he was with 95 Squadron the Sunderland flying boats, he decided out there that he actually wanted to be part of the aircrew and as a qualified engineer he would be useful to Bomber Command and he knew the new four engine bombers were coming onto stream with the Lancaster and felt that was a position for him and so suitably applied and was accepted
CB: So what do you know about the training he had to do in preparation for getting into the, into Bomber Command?
DJ: Well, I’m reading now, this is the Air VCs Chaz Bowyer, book called For Valour, now, this actually says that my father enlisted in the 20th of October 1939 after various training courses at Halton and Hednesford he became classified as a fitter 11E engines, a group one tradesman posted overseas, his first unit was 95 Squadron to which he reported on the 2nd of January 1941, a Short Sunderland flying boat squadron based on the West African coast near Freetown following, for the following eighteen months Jackson continued to serve as a engine fitter on flying boats Marine Craft but the opportunity to remuster to flying duties as a flight engineer attracted him and he accordingly applied for training, as a result he returned to England in September 1942 and after six months at 27 OTU, Operational Training Unit moved to RAF St Athan at the end of March 1943 to complete instruction. Finally, with promotion to sergeant he was mustered, or remustered, I apologize, as a flight engineer on the 14th of June and posted to number 1645 Heavy Conversion Unit on the 28th of July he joined his first squadron 106 based at Syerston and flying Avro Lancasters.
CB: Right, that sets the scene very well. Did he talk about what the training was like?
DJ: No,
CB: And
DJ: Only, the only thing Dad ever used to mention about training was that the RAF lost more aircrew training than they did on missions themselves, on sorties, he said the loss rate on training was quite high, that’s what I can remember him saying about training
CB: Certainly, there was quite a loss. So, with his training he didn’t start flying until he got to the operational training unit is what you’re saying, yeah, because he’s been on the ground before.
DJ: Well, again I’m reading from Chaz Bowyer’s book here, which has quite a lot of detail, so from September 1942, I think that’s when he started, he applied and after six months at 27 Operational Training Unit moved to RAF St Athan and that was the end of March when he, he may have started his flying training then, whether there was any prior to that at the 27 Operational Training Unit I don’t know.
CB: Ok.
DJ: I don’t know, I think Dad did actually, I can remember Dad talking about RAF Elstos which was a small twine engined aeroplane he used to fly, so at that point being
CB: Ansons,
DJ: Ansons, sorry, the Anson, my apology,
CB: Yes, yeah
DJ: The Anson aircraft, so he did some time on that
CB: Right
DJ: Now I presume that was not at the operational, that may have been at the Operational Training Unit rather than the Heavy Conversion Unit, so I suspected he started before that
CB: The Heavy Conversion Unit would have been the four engine
DJ: The four engine, absolutely, yeah
CB: One way or another. Ok, good, and because he talked to you about a number of things, what did he say about when he got to flying, how he felt about flying?
DJ: He didn’t actually like it that much, I mean, bear in mind, Dad never used to speak, talk about it really at all, it used to be people asking him questions and we as children would be there and I asked, you know, in my father’s later life used to talk Dad about it but he was not very happy with talking about the war, he felt everybody should move on. What was the question, sorry?
CB: The question was how he felt about flying.
DJ: Flying itself he never really enjoyed it, it was just something that had to be done and even though my father wasn’t a particularly religious man, he always said that nobody prayed harder than him before a mission, cause he knew what to expect.
CB: That’s an interesting point because people did different actions before going on a mission, on operation, what did he do? Did he have a mascot, or did he do something before getting in the [unclear]?
DJ: Father never had a mascot as far as I know, he just looked at it as a job that needed to be done and
CB: Did he go through a ritual before getting in the aircraft, do you know?
DJ: No, not that I know of, no.
CB: No.
DJ: He certainly would have spoken of it.
CB: And we are talking about here when he got to the Heavy Conversion Unit it’s now a bomber crew of seven, how did that crew get gelled together?
DJ: As far as I know, once they’d actually formed up as a crew they gelled very well, they, my father always said that they were like a band of brothers, they were very close and that probably, well, I’m sure that would have been the reason why my father decided to fly on the final mission to see them through, their thirtieth, my father’s thirty first, they were very close, socialised together
CB: You talked about him being badly injured when he landed, cause he landed in a different position after he left the aircraft
DJ: Yes
CB: Yeah
DJ: To the rest of the crew
CB: They got out later presumably
DJ: Yes
CB: Were they all in the same prison camp or different ones?
DJ: No, I think that I’m not absolutely sure of, I don’t know, they may have been in the same prison camp [unclear] record and I did not at some stage which Stalag Luft my father was in but I can’t recall it at the moment
CB: Yeah. But did they get together after the war?
DJ: I don’t know much about that actually, I do know that I met two, as a young lad, schoolboy, I met the wireless operator Sandy Sandelands who came to our house in Hampton Hill, Middlesex. I also met the navigator, Frank Higgins, I met him as well, he used to tell about, I can remember them saying that my father citation was always wrong but, you know, they said they just didn’t listen to us because you know, because my father certaition states that on leaving the aircraft my father slipped and then ended up on the wing involved in the fire, well, if you climb out on top of the fuselage on an aircraft travelling at two hundred miles an hour and you’d slip, you don’t go down, you go backwards and this is what they used to say to me and they said, we were looking at your father on the wing and thinking we didn’t actually want him to go out there, we’d all rather just bailed out and that was it, but certainly when the fighter attacked the second time they thought that was it, he shouldn’t have gone out there cause he had now gone, that’s what they thought but those are the two that I’ve met and the only other person I can really remember, which I’d met later many times was Leonard Cheshire at various functions at Buckingham Palace or [unclear] for the Victoria Cross holders
CB: Yes
DJ: But they are the two members of the crew that I have met
CB: And on that topic Leonard Cheshire and your father received the Victoria Cross on the same day, so what happened there?
DJ: The, it was October 1945, as I say, following my father getting that phone call from a female officer in the Royal Air Force informing him he was to be awarded the Victoria Cross, the investiture took place on October 1945, on that day which my mother and father attended was Leonard Cheshire as well, officer commanding 617 Squadron at that time, he was to be awarded the Victoria Cross as well at the investiture in front of the king they were informed about the protocol of the event, the Victoria Cross would always be called first, amongst, cause there were other people there receiving other awards, the Victoria Cross, the people to be invested with the Victoria Cross would be called first, Leonard Cheshire as a group captain, as I believe his rank was at that time, would be called up first, Leonard Cheshire stopped speaking to me at that time, he said, absolutely not, I cannot go first, Norman Jackson in Leonard’s words stuck out his neck much more than I ever did, he should get the Victoria Cross first, I feel humble by being in the presence of this man which is what Lenny told me many times every time I saw him but he, Leonard Cheshire was told that because of the protocol of the day that couldn’t happen and the king would receive him first followed by my father so that’s what happened on that day, Leonard Cheshire went first followed by my father who received the Victoria Cross
CB: And how did they continue their association after the war, was it to do with the?
DJ: I think that after the war of course, the war in Europe had finished, it hadn’t finished in the Far East, my father was being crewed up to continue flying in the Far East but then obviously with the dropping of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the war in the Far East ended and that was that but on the aircraft that dropped the atomic bomb on Nagasaki the RAF observer was Leonard Cheshire and it had such an effect on him psychologically that he then went into an infirmary to for, I’m not sure how long it was for but he disappeared really from public life at that time, so my father never saw him until probably in the 1950s at various Royal Air Force functions where the Victoria Cross holders would be invited and I think that’s when Leonard started to see my father again but there was no real friendship between them, it was just really the only association was that they’d both been awarded the Victoria Cross, my father did know of Leonard Cheshire prior to the investiture of Buckingham Palace because of his work with 617 Squadron as most people in the Royal Air Force would had done. He was a great man but never really continued to associate afterwards other than at functions, Royal Air Force functions or Victoria Cross and George Cross holders functions, that was it. Which is where I met Leonard quite a number of times.
CB: You talked about your father crewing up for the Far East, that was called Tiger Force after what squadron was he supposed to be going to
DJ: Ok, I don’t know Chris, it was just that me Dad said he was, cause I asked that question did he see Leonard afterwards,
CB: Yes, indeed.
DJ: But that was October 1945 and it was really at the end
CB: Sure
DJ: So prior to that Dad was, you know, he came back, he was still in the Royal Air Force, he was still in the Royal Air Force until ‘46
CB: We’ll get that from his service record, but what did he or how long did he stay in the RAF your father?
DJ: From ’39, I mean, I’ve already showed you the photographs
CB: Of his demob.
DJ: Which is 1946 with Roy Chadwick at the presentation of the silver Lancaster bomber to my father and my father’s in uniform there so I’m presuming he was still in the Royal Air Force at that time, awaiting demobilisation I presume, yeah, so, the exact date I don’t know.
CB: They tended to, as I understand it, they tended to demobilise the people who’d been in longest earliest.
DJ: Well, my father joined in ’39 so he would have been long so but what date he got his demob I don’t know.
CB: Right.
DJ: Other than certainly in that photograph dated in, which, March wasn’t it? 1946 with Roy Chadwick my father still in uniform there, so.
CB: Can we just go fast backwards now, your father is on the aircraft, he is hit by cannon fire on the second attack by a fighter and he falls with his parachute in fire is what you were saying. He was badly burned
DJ: I don’t know if it was on fire or just smouldering, yeah, the rigging lines would have been dragging back
CB: But, he was dropping with that
DJ: At an alarming rate
CB: At an alarming rate and but he is burnt
DJ: Yes, very badly
CB: So, what do you know about how the German doctors dealt with his injuries?
DJ: Well, my father always said that they treated him very, very well, there is a report that I found out about twelve years ago, fourteen years ago by Spink’s in London doing some fact finding on my father, the hospital records are still there in Germany and when dealing with my father’s wounds, they actually ran out of saline and had to send out for more, that’s what they told me from the records they saw cause his wounds were so severe, so, that’s what I know, I mean, he said they treated him very well, very, very well
CB: So how long, remind me, how long was he in hospital?
DJ: The exact time I don’t know I believe, according to again if I may refer to Chaz Bowyer’s book For Valour The Air VCs, it states in here and I presume that some research was done for this, that my father was actually, if I can find the paragraph, at daybreak, my father is in a pitiful condition [unclear] he’s in German for the next ten months, Jackson [unclear] recuperated in a German hospital, though his burned hands never fully recovered so according to Chaz Bowyer ten months which would have put him from April through to early ‘45 where he was then sent to the prisoner of war camp
CB: And his wounds of course never fully recovered
DJ: The [unclear]
CB: [unclear] but what was the state of his hands later?
DJ: My father’s hands were noticeable that there was something different about them, my father had a really, if you looked at my father’s arms, they stopped obviously at the wrist, in he had a ring around each wrist and then the colour changed, my father’s hands were almost translucent where all the skin and flesh had been burnt through and then healed over the years. It never really bothered him as far as enabling him to do whatever he wanted to do, so there was no lasting effect from it other than the look of them really. He never suffered any lasting effects from those burns they healed and that was it but my father’s hands reached a stage where they wouldn’t heal any more so they looked like they looked on my father’s body which when we used to if we went to the beach or whatever my father had a pair of shorts on it was quite obvious with the number of scars on my father’s back and on the back of his legs that some sort of injuries had been sustained during his war years, certainly is quite a few scars there and as far as I believe there were seventeen different [unclear] hospital records from shell and shrapnel in my father’s body, some of those would have been incurred first attack and the rest on the second attack when he was on the way
CB: From your recollection what did they look like? Were some of them [unclear], were some them long and [unclear]?
DJ: Yeah, they were white and diamond shaped, I remember there were a couple that were sort of maybe half an inch long, straight, there were some that were diamond shaped and some that were round with almost an indentation to them so the skin had almost, was concave in my father’s back
CB: Was it a subject to conversation between
DJ: Never had, Dad never, all Dad used to say was, well, I’ve still got some shrapnel in my head, he used to feel round the back, [unclear] you could feel it there and used to feel the back of Dad’s head you could feel something sharp inside the skin so that’s the only thing he used to say when you tried to say, Dad, all those scars on your back but he wasn’t, he never used to speak about it much at all, it was, we learned about it from people coming to the house all the time, people would want interviews with Dad, the newspapers etcetera etcetera radio stations and so we learned about it from there it wasn’t something that Dad actually really spoke about but as we got older we spoke to Dad about it and
CB: And how did he feel about being questioned
DJ: Didn’t like it,
CB: By his family?
DJ: Oh, by his family? Well, he never really used to, Dad loved his family, he would never really be angry with us, he would talk but he never really opened up completely, he was just saying that that was then it was a very bad time, didn’t enjoy it very much, glad to move on and my father, we used to, I used to go to school with my father’s medals, they never meant much to Dad at all, he would let us take them to school in our pocket and of course teachers would want to see them and other people want to see them, he would go to Royal Air Force functions at various places, he would never ever put his medals on until he was inside the building and he would take them off before he left the building, he wouldn’t put them on because he felt that it wasn’t fair on all the other aircrew who were walking around who had their medals on, he felt it was almost ill deserved. I can remember one incident where my father had a function to go to and normally his medals would be in his desk drawer where he’d throw them he put them in there and just leave the drawer and that was it and he couldn’t find his medals anywhere and we were hunting, the whole family were hunting and we couldn’t find the medals anywhere and then obviously you start to backtrack the last time you had them, you know, he was at this function a few months before and what suit were you wearing and to that suit but the suit had been to the drycleaners in which was the [unclear] dry cleaners I can remember that in Twickenham and suddenly we thought maybe they were in Dad’s pocket when they went to the drycleaners so we phoned up the drycleaners and he said, yeah, we got a set of medals here, they were in some suit somewhere and we put them in the drawer and it was my father’s medals including the Victoria Cross that had just thrown in the drawer at the dry cleaners [laughs] so Dad managed to recover them ready for the next function. But he never really gave them any thought, he just put them in the pocket and that was it, that’s what Dad was like.
CB: Right, we’ll just stop for a minute. Going back to the medical issues and the hospital experience, in Britain McIndoe was the man who was best known for his plastic surgery but there other people doing it, what did Dad think about the work done by the doctor’s there? Were the plastic surgeons identified in any way or?
DJ: No, no one in particular, he said that he was very, very well looked after, he did speak about a Canadian doctor who would work in the hospital there which always seemed a bit odd to me that you would have a Canadian doctor working in a German hospital but whether that was, he was brought in for a particular reason or not, I don’t know, Dad never really spoke about it more than that other than say he was very, very well looked after, he was in a pretty pitiful state, he must have been but obviously a very strong will and managed to recover
CB: Any idea of the number of operations they had to perform on him?
DJ: No, no, none whatsoever, I don’t know [unclear]
CB: The hospital itself where do you think that was?
DJ: I would say, well the target that night was Schweinfurt which it I believe quite deep in Germany so I presume that as they were shot down over the target or just after the target, bombing the target it must have been within that vicinity, as much as, that would be a guess obviously.
CB: When you said that Spink’s did an awful lot of research on it
DJ: At the auction of my father’s medals which was done by Spink’s in London in 2004 following the loss of my mother and the subsequent dealing with the estate which included my father’s decorations, they did quite a lot of research and supplied me with quite a lot of information including all of my father’s mission records which I have and gave me the information about the hospital that they must have got, whether they got that from the hospital themselves or from somewhere else I don’t know, they gave me the information about the hospital running out of saline and so but the Canadian doctor bit my father, I can remember my father talking about that and [unclear]
CB: [unclear]
DJ: I presume so, yes, yeah, however they used to treat them in those days.
CB: A bit largely experimental I imagine.
DJ: I [unclear], I mean, I do sometimes think my father must have been in so much pain because if you have very deep burns and they are exposed to the air is very painful. And at the time my father hit the ground, his gloves must have been completely burnt off, completely burnt through so he must have been exposed to the air, but maybe with his smashed ankles, only being able to walk on elbows and knees, badly burnt face as well, one eye closed, there was so much pain elsewhere that it sort of numbed the effect of the hands, I don’t know. And it was pretty cold as well if I understand it was April or so I think it must have been pretty cold out there so that may have helped as well, the cold temperature.
CB: So, he was clearly damaged shall we say in various ways, what happened to his eye? Did that recover or what was wrong with it?
DJ: Yeah, I think he just got a bad bash on it or something, I don’t think there was any shrapnel damage to it at all, he, it was just happened in the incident probably when he left the aircraft he hit something and bashed his eye, I presume, I don’t know, Dad never spoke about it but his right eye was completely closed, I mean, Chaz Bowyer mentions that in the book here when he hit the ground so I think that would have just healed and opened up as normal
CB: These sorts of injuries can stay with people for the rest of their lives and you talked about the fact that his head had some shrapnel in it
DJ: Yes
CB: What about his health of in later years? Was his experience in the war in any way a disadvantage to him from a health point of view later?
DJ: No, I don’t believe, if it was I don’t think my father would have said so and he was a man that, he didn’t really speak about the war, he never actually said the war had any effect on him at all, physically or mentally, it was a time when they just did their duty, he spoke a lot about the other aircrew, how wonderful they were, and with the fact that there was no memorial to these guys, that bothered my father a lot over the years, a lot and but as far as the war affecting him, no, he never ever said that it damaged him in any way, in fact I think he felt himself quite lucky that he survived and went on to have seven children, extremely lucky, he often said that he should have died at the age of twenty five [unclear] man
CB: Where do you come in the ranking of children?
DJ: I am number five, born in 1953, so, four were born between ’44, which is my brother, my eldest brother Brian was born on the night my father was shot down and then we have Pauline, Brenda, Peter and then myself and I was followed by Ian and Shirley Anne a bit later.
CB: When were they born?
DJ: Ian was born 1955 and Shirley was, came along a little bit later in 1961 so there is a bit of a gap there.
CB: So, what sort of house did you have to accommodate all these members?
DJ: Yeah, a big one [laughs], My father had a, he built it himself actually with another chap, he bought some land in Hampton Hill, Burtons Road, Hampton Hill in Middlesex off of a chap had a big house in Uxbridge Road he came down to Burtons Road, so he bought this large, large piece of land and on there he built a bungalow, a four bedroom bungalow which had quite a large front, [unclear] it was a very large bungalow and that’s where we all were brought up
CB: Had bunk beds, did you?
DJ: Yes, yeah, I mean, when we were younger certainly and we were all seven at home, yeah
CB: Was there quite a well regimented system operating for use of the bathroom?
DJ: Probably, I don’t remember it being any problem, I know that we used to have a separate shower in the bathroom so we used to have showers all the time, bath night was generally on a Sunday or something where three or four of us boys used to get in together, I can remember that, certainly three of us, the younger ones used to get in together, the girls used to get in together, it was no issue at all, I mean, I was amazed that my mother who cooked three meals a day for us all, breakfast, lunch and dinner, would come up with so much variety for us all, I can always remember thinking where, my mother must be wonderful to come up with all these different choices all the time but it’s obviously I mean the house was full all the time, there was always things going on so we shared you had three of us in one bedroom when we were growing up, three of the boys, my oldest brother Brian had his own room, you had two girls with another bedroom and then when Shirley came along, a bit later, Pauline was getting married and so leaving the house and so Shirley could take her place [unclear] in the bedroom, Brian at that time had already gone, he’d been married and moved on so, it sort of, it worked out well at the end
CB: What was your father’s occupation after the war?
DJ: My father joined JBR Brandy as a salesman, that’s what he wanted to do, travel, he wanted to travel, he couldn’t settle down any more and his hands were such that he couldn’t go back really to engineering as such, he joined JBR Brandy, he was then with them for a while and then he was headhunted I suppose you could say by the distillers company [unclear] John Hague who wanted him to join them as their troubleshooting travelling salesman so to speak whereas they had accounts that needed building up they would send in, were sending in Norman Jackson VC and that carried some weight in those days. And suddenly people would sit up and listen and that’s what they used, you know, they, he was quite well thought of in the company for doing that, so, that’s what he did, he worked for John Hague was he, for many years. Up until retirement and he retired at the age of fifty-three.
CB: Oh, did he? What made him retire so soon?
DJ: My mother has suffered some mental health, she had suffered a stroke at that time but recovered from it but subsequently had a stroke later in life that put her into a wheelchair unfortunately but that was in, my mother was then sixty and lived to the age of eighty two with that
CB: [unclear]
DJ: Yeah, never complained about it, just got on with it
CB: This was the quality of scotch, was it?
DJ: Probably was, my mother never drunk [laughs], she would have a gin at Christmas with a tonic and that was it
CB: It was just the fumes from the open bottle
DJ: Yeah, maybe, my father used to, he’d drink, I think in those days it must have been different because every meeting my father used to have they’d drink whisky, they would go to a meeting and they’d have whisky, and then they’d drive home afterwards you know and my father used to come home, he’s been stopped by the police before in the old days driving home or he’d drive home with one eye closed looking at the centre line in the road because you know he’d been working and have a few whiskeys and the police would stop him and it would be local police and they’d realised who it was and they’d just take him home, knock on the door with Dad, one of them driving Dad’s car and the other one in the police car with Dad in the police car and say, oh, we have Norman Jackson here and delivering him to our house [laughs]. Happened on a few occasions.
CB: And what age was he when he died?
DJ: My father would have been, it was one month to the day before his seventy-fifth birthday, I’m sorry, one month to the day before they day he got shot down, my apologies, he died on March the 27th which was four weeks prior to the day when he took off, which was April 27 1944 so it was a couple of weeks before his 75th birthday.
CB: Now we touched earlier on the delicate question really of what happened to his medals, so
DJ: Yeah, not that delicate at all
CB: Ok, so, mother died,
DJ: Yeah
CB: Your mother died
DJ: Yeah.
CB: Was that someway the prompt on of dealing with the medical, medals,
DJ: Yes
CB: What happened exactly?
DJ: What happened was we contacted the RAF Museum in Hendon which we felt would’ve been where my father would’ve wanted them to go to, so we contacted the museum, not Douglas actually, we weren’t dealing with Douglas at that time, Douglas Radcliffe at Bomber Command, we were dealing with the curator of the museum and we said that we’d like my father’s medals to go there and he was very happy to receive them and letters were flying backwards and forwards between him and then suddenly my mother’s lawyer, I was an executive of my mother’s will as was my sister Shirley, the lawyer contacted us and said according to your mother’s will there is no stipulation about your father’s medals other than, as this is written in, to be kept within the family or if not part of the estate, he said, this is where we have an issue, you cannot keep a single item within a family, it has to be considered as part of the estate, this is what he said, so he said, well, if we all agree to donate it, he said, well, the problem with that in law there is no precedent for that, you, I can only tell you what the law is, he said, now, if you all agree we can possibly do something. My oldest brother Brian who at that time, at that time felt that they shouldn’t be donated to the museum, that was where the issue was, the lawyer acting for my mother then said, well, they have to be considered as part of the estate, so we said, well, what does that mean? He said, well, they have to be sold, he said, and if they have to be sold you can sell them on a private auction where nobody knows about it but the problem with that is legally if the maximum amount of money isn’t realised for any asset of the estate, the executives of that will can be held responsible, this is he’s just saying what the law is, he says, my advice to you would be to go to a public auction, I said, we don’t really want to do that but that was the road we went down so we contacted, well he did, Spink’s, the only reason we knew about Spink’s because that’s where my mother, my father’s medals used to go for maintenance and that sort of thing and they used to do the you know dressing of them and [unclear], so he contacted Spink’s who then contacted us and we had to go and see them and have this, you know, this meeting and everything else and then we had the auction, the media found out about it as we knew they would but a lot more, there was a lot more interest than we really anticipated and including us on the BBC news asked me to do a bit for them and they interviewed me at the RAF museum there talking about it, my wishes which just they would go to the museum for ten pounds or something you know and we donate that to charity or whatever, to which the lawyer said [unclear] you can’t do that, anyway there we are, day of the auction, all of the family really buried their head in the sand, they didn’t want to know, I was driving along the motorway somewhere listening to the radio and the news came on and it came on that the Victoria Cross awarded to airman Norman Cyril Jackson had sold, had made a world record of two hundred and thirty six thousand pounds at Spink’s in London, I felt, it was an awful feeling, it really was and then I got a call from various newspapers asking which I there felt, thought was quite personal actually, what are you gonna do with the money? And I just said, I don’t want the money, don’t want anything to do with it, don’t want to touch it, and then the guy from the Telegraph phoned and I spoke to him and he said, you sound quite angry, I said, well, only the fact that this didn’t need to happen in my view and he said, well, what do you feel about it? And then the next day he printed what I was saying that it bothered me that this, it had been sold amongst much acrimony and this sort of things and [coughs] it was not an easy time, the money itself was, sat at Spink’s for a while [coughs], they then forded it on to any lawyers dealing with the estate and it sat there until we were told that it had to be divided up amongst the people who were named within the will, which were the family, I personally refused to have any of it, with prior to that, Penny and I had lost our daughter unfortunately at a young age and we decided that what we’d like to do was have a bronze plaque made because the Victoria Cross is bronze from a cannon that was captured during the Crimean War, a Russian cannon, even though, you know, I think since they decided maybe it was a Chinese cannon that was captured by the Russians which was then captured by the British but we thought it’s bronze so we’d like to have a plaque made in bronze for Lilly our daughter so we got a quota back then of a thousand pounds and we took a thousand pounds of that money to make the plaque and the rest left with the rest of the family who wanted to take it and so that’s what happened to the proceeds of the sale of my father’s medals. At the time I was a bit angry because I felt they should be in a museum in the public domain, following the sale it became known that Lord Ashcroft had purchased my father’s Victoria Cross and he actually wrote it was one of his favourites which I thought was quite nice but I was still angry because I felt it should be in a public domain, I was told at that time by Didy Grahame who was at the or ran really the Victoria Cross and George Cross Association at the Home Office that don’t be too bothered because eventually they will end up in the public domain, Lord Ashcroft has stated that to me, that’s what Didy said and now of course Lord Ashcroft has been involved in the creation of the Victoria Cross room at the Imperial War Museum in London which is where my father’s medals were on show with the story so that is wonderful and I give my full thanks to Lord Ashcroft for that, it’s wonderful, it’s all ended up, you know, ok in the end and they are where they should be in the public domain and with my father’s story which is good
CB: And how did the rest of your siblings feel about
DJ: Awful, even to this day, really Brian was held responsible in some ways for what happened and that was tough for the family to take really because of dealing with the media and in some way trying to keep from the media without lying about what was happening and the reasons for it, what would’ve been nice if the lawyers just said, ok, a majority decision here, that’s what’s gonna happen but Brian felt that they shouldn’t be going to the museum, he’s entitled to his opinion but it did affect family, the family bond for many years to come, it did
CB: It sounds as though you found yourself in the front line of this but what about Shirley who was the other executive, why did she
DJ: Shirley to this day doesn’t forgive at all, not at all, Shirley, I do, I live and let live, I move on, Shirley is a different [unclear] [laughs], she hasn’t really forgiven so you’re welcome to go and interview her if you like [laughs], Shirley no, nor my sister Pauline neither my sister or Brenda really, they [unclear] forgiven, tough one
CB: Yeah
DJ: But that, you know, there we are. Brian had his reasons and he was entitled to them, you know, not everybody thinks the same and I think if you have seven children you are bound to have some disagreements, somewhere down the line
CB: You don’t need seven to get disagreements
DJ: No, two [laughs] or one.
CB: We’ll just stop there.
DJ: To be sold, part, consider part of the estate or sold, that was it,
CB: Those were the options
DJ: That was the options, they were part of the estate which meant they were to be sold as the rest of the estate would be
CB: Right
DJ: Or kept within the family and you cannot as my sister was saying at the time, you cannot keep one item between seven, you can’t cut it up and have a seventh each, you could all agree to give it to one person or to donate it or something, but you need full agreement and if there is one person that disagrees it’s part of the estate, that’s it, now you can have one person disagree for whatever reason, whether you want to see it sold, whether you just don’t want the museum to have it, if there is a disagreement and not, it’s not completely agreed by all seven children, it’s part of the estate, that’s how my mother’s will had been put together by her solicitor which was wrong really cause Mom would have been a lot better off, cause Mom always used to say I would rather Dad’s, my father’s medals, Dad’s medals went to David, that’s what she always wanted because she knew I would do the right thing and but that was never in my mother’s will, other members of the family knew that and kept quoting her but the solicitor said, [unclear] black on white
CB: Legally.
DJ: No.
CB: No.
DJ: This, my mother’s will was done many years ago, been forgotten about really so there it was in black on white and that was it, it just [unclear] one person to disagree for whatever reason and it was part of the estate
CB: Now Brian was the eldest?
DJ: Yes, he was, yeah
CB: And he is not with us any longer
DJ: No, oh you? that’s right, yeah, we lost him this year.
CB: Oh, this year
DJ: Yeah
CB: Right. So, how did the family, the survivors as it were, all six of you feel about it then being on display in the Imperial War Museum?
DJ: Happy.
CB: In that room?
DJ: Very happy. Very, very happy in doing it.
CB: So, does that in a way create a closure?
DJ: Yes
CB: In the family?
DJ: Absolutely, it does. They really should be in the public domain, doesn’t matter where but they’re in the public domain
CB: Yeah
DJ: That’s it. They’re still the property of Lord Ashcroft
CB: Yeah
DJ: As they should, I mean, but, you know, there we are, that’s it but they’re in the public domain which is a good thing
CB: It created, as you said earlier, a good deal of media attention and the sale price was two hundred and thirty-six thousand
DJ: Yeah
CB: What was the expected price at auction?
DJ: One forty, I think
CB: Right
DJ: From memory, I think they were saying it should reach about one hundred and forty thousand, which when you divide it by seven is nothing, twenty thousand or something like [unclear] saying at the time is just ridiculous, going through all this for twenty thousand pounds,
CB: Yes.
DJ: Which I, was a lot of money then I suppose but to me in my head it didn’t matter if it was two hundred thousand it still would’ve been a no
CB: Going back to that extraordinary experience in the Lancaster, what process do you understand went on between the crew members with your father deciding or convincing them that he should get out?
DJ: It wasn’t a, I don’t think, as I understand it he didn’t need to convince them, he was the most experienced member of the crew anyway, it was his job as far as he saw to see that Lancaster return and the crew as well, he asked the permission of the pilot Fred Mifflin who was obviously the skipper of the aircraft, he told him he could deal with it and I think the bond between them all, Fred never questioned it, it was an incredulous thing to try and do but he never questioned it and so he just let him get on with it, that was it, deal with it
CB: When he went into the prison camp, then there were lots of people there obviously, do you, what understanding do you have of how he got on when he was in the prison camp, prisoner of war camp?
DJ: The only thing I really about, Didy Grahame at the Victoria Cross and George’s Cross Association always says my father went through hell as she said in the prisoner of war camp, how she knows that I don’t know, I know very little about my father’s time in the prisoner of war camp other than he used to talk about they were very hungry all the time. He also spoke about in the prisoner of war camp was a chap who they called Little Bader who had lost both legs, he was an airman, lost both legs and they were forced to march, I don’t think this was what’s known as the long march or whatever, they were forced to leave that prisoner of war camp and march to somewhere else towards the end of the war and my father carried that chap, the legless Little Bader as they called him, the distance from that out the prisoner of war camp they [unclear] to the next one which I thought was a pretty incredible thing when, you know, you had hands that had been burnt through, broken ankles and God knows what else, [unclear] he’d healed but you couldn’t have been that good, because you hadn’t been, nutrition was probably non-existent almost and you’d carried him and the chap that Dad had carried actually wrote an article about this because he then found out about Dad’s award after the war and wrote an article saying this was the chap that carried me from the prisoner of war camp to the next prisoner of war camp, which I think was basically to get away from the advancing Allies to move further deeper into Germany and that’s what, that’s my only recollection of anything to do with my father’s time in the prisoner of war camp
CB: Do you know what his name was?
DJ: I did
CB: Ok [unclear]
DJ: I think, you can look it up, I did know it, it’s recorded, this chap, Little Bader, he’s quite well known I think
CB: Ok.
DJ: I think he was a rear gunner, I think he’d lost both legs
CB: We are talking still about the prison camp, he would have been in hospital as you said earlier all that time
DJ: Ten months according to Chaz Bowyer, yeah
CB: Ten months. And the effect of the surgery and the convalescence will still be in the system as it were when he gets to the prisoner of war camp, what do you know about the medical facilities, of the medical [unclear]?
DJ: I know nothing about, if it was [unclear] I don’t know
CB: No
DJ: I know very little if anything about the conditions within the prisoner of war camp, I know my father said they were always hungry, I know he said he never ever, he had to wait until he got back to England before he had a pillow, so he used to sleep with his arm underneath the back of his head, that’s how they had to sleep, they had no pillow or anything, very hungry all the time, as far as medical conditions, facilities were concerned I don’t know, I would have thought they were pretty basic if at all, whether they had a camp doctor I don’t know, I don’t know, I’d have to check on that
CB: Ok. We’ll stop on that.
DJ: Did prisoner of war camps have doctors?
CB: Probably. German.
DJ: They would of course
CB: If they captured people, they would [unclear].
DJ: Right.
CB: Spoke earlier about the Canadian doctor in the hospital, what do you know other than that?
DJ: I’m not sure if it was a hospital, my father spoke about a Canadian doctor, now, whether that was someone who worked in the hospital in Germany with the Germans or subsequently was a captured doctor in the prisoner of war camp I don’t know, probably the latter would have been the case, I can’t imagine the Germans sort of bringing in a Canadian doctor to help them in their hospitals, pretty bad on the payroll I wouldn’t have thought so, so it’s more than likely he was actually in the prisoner of war camp and helped at the, after being discharged from the hospital and that is probably nearer the truth
CB: In view of what your father said, did he ever make contact with that man or try to make contact with him?
DJ: Not that I know of, no, no. Not at all, not that I know of. But bear in mind, I was born in 1953, so whether he did turn up at the house prior to my being born or a few years after I’ve been born, I don’t know, I don’t remember. Dad certainly never spoke about it, other than this Canadian doctor and that was [unclear] helped him
CB: Apart from his experience with the aircraft, what else did he talk about his being dramatic because some of the earlier operations he went on as in raids were fairly dramatic, what
DJ: Yes, he used to talk about Berlin, they had, his crew at 106 Squadron they did ten tours to Berlin, which was quite a lot
CB: Ten ops
DJ: Ten ops, sorry, ten ops, not ten tours, ten ops, my apologies, three hundred missions to Berlins, ten ops to Berlin
CB: Yeah
DJ: One of them I know because it is on the records upstairs, they were hit by flak and also attacked by a fighter that night and lost one engine so they returned with three engines from Berlin all the way back to Metheringham, their base in Lincolnshire, I know that, that’s the only one Dad really used to speak other than the rest of them which were just missions, he just, it was a job to be done, one mission paled into insignificance with another mission, you know, it was just one mission after another really, had he had the choice he probably wouldn’t have wanted to go on any of them, but they just did their job
CB: Just picking up on what you said earlier about the cohesion of the crew, they tended to speak from experience of interviews as the family, what about when they were off operations? Any idea of what they did in their spare time?
DJ: [clears throat] No. I know they used to drink together around, they would go to a local pub around Metheringham or go into Lincoln together. Other than that I don’t know, bear in mind that Fred Mifflin was from Newfoundland so his family would’ve been in Newfoundland so I suspect he’d been quite close to the crew, keeping them together and then the rest of the crew would have known that so they looked after their skipper and the rest from various parts of the country, so they would have spent a lot of time together as a family, a family unit.
CB: I’ll stop there again. Thank you.
DJ: Maybe my father always spoke about the rear gunner who was killed that night
CB: The time when he got out of the plane
DJ: Yeah
CB: Well he
DJ: Well, he, the rear gunner, Dad said, was injured in the first attack
CB; Oh, right.
DJ: He was hit. Now Dad said, he probably would’ve never survived a parachute jump, now whether that was the reason why my father decided to do what he did or not, I don’t know, now that may be the reason, he was very good friends with Fred Mifflin the pilot who was also killed that night, my father said or Sandy Sandeland the wireless operator actually said they did both manage to get out of the aircraft, he saw them, Fred Mifflin was, Johnny Johnson was near the escape hatch at the back of the aircraft, Fred Mifflin was released, he was standing up, ready to move away from the controls, the Germans say they were both found within the aircraft, Sandy Sandeland always said that they got out of the aircraft and they were killed on the ground, so there was a little bit of disagreement there about what happened and my father says, knowing how aircrew were treated when they were off for a bombing mission on a village or town or city, he believed they were killed on the ground but we don’t know, there’s another story that Fred Mifflin and Johnny Johnson were very good friends, Johnny Johnson was injured, couldn’t survive the parachute jump so stayed with the aircraft and tried to bring it down, that’s another story, whether it’s true or not I don’t know, my father didn’t know, he was not in the aircraft but my father always believed they were killed on the ground and not in the aircraft.
CB: Ok.
DJ: Was one of those things you could never prove either way, really
CB: Yes, it’s difficult to deal with
DJ: Yeah.
CB: Now, we’ve covered dramatic things here but there was some good sides so how did your parents come to meet in the first place?
DJ: My father, actually my mother told this story that the way they met was my father used to cycle to the engineering works which was in Richmond from Twickenham, my mother lived in Twickenham at the time and Dad used to cycle past her daily and whistle and then wink. My mother used to obviously totally ignore him and then there was a dance one night at a club in Twickenham and that was where my father saw my Mum and approached her and asked her to dance, I think my mother refused, my father wouldn’t go away, kept on asking and eventually my mother gave in and that’s where it started. That was it.
CB: Persistent man.
DJ: A man who knew what he wanted, I think
CB: So how long did it take him to
DJ: Well, that would’ve been in 1938 to ’39, just prior to him joining up. Bear in mind my mother was born in 1922 so at that time she would’ve been sixteen years of age, coming on seventeen, so a young girl. They married in ’42 when she was twenty. And it was just prior to the war
CB: And then the decision on getting married, how did that work? Cause he’s been away for a bit.
DJ: Yeah, he was sent away, I think they actually were quite close and got engaged I believe in 1940 if I remember correctly and then my father was sent to North Africa, Freetown, North West Africa
CB: Sierra Leone
DJ: Indeed and was there until ’42 and my mother didn’t know where he was, received the odd letter but that was it, gone, and came back in ’42, September, they got back together and the, arranged their wedding for Boxing Day of that year and that was it. Happy ever since.
CB: But most of the war, [unclear] after that ‘42
DJ: Yeah.
CB: Then they were, father was still around
DJ: He, he was in the UK
CB: In the UK, so, how did they live together or did [unclear]?
DJ: No, they
CB: They lived apart all the time
DJ: They, Mum lived in Twickenham, in Church Street, Twickenham.
CB: Right.
DJ: She had a flat there, which my father used to visit when he was off duty, all the time my father was on duty, he would’ve been stationed at the airfield at Metheringham or Syerston first and then Metheringham
CB: Yeah, she didn’t move up to Lincolnshire
DJ: No, she didn’t, she stayed in Twickenham, that’s where she was
CB: And then after the war,
DJ: Yeah
CB: He was still in the RAF
DJ: He was
CB: So, the same arrangement continued
DJ: No, well, bear in mind that my father came back at the end of the war in Europe, he then was still stationed in the RAF, my mother was still living in Twickenham. Come ’46, he left the Royal Air Force, they then took a house in Whitton, which is near Twickenham, a rented accommodation while my father was looking for some land to build a house and that he found in Burtons Road Hampton Hill not far from there and then built the bungalow
CB: What do you know about how he came back from the prison camp? Because he wasn’t in the long march, you said
DJ: I don’t believe the march that was spoken about was the long march, it may well have been
CB: No, that’s right. Yeah.
DJ: But I don’t know, I don’t believe it was [coughs], I’m sure my father would have mentioned that, I think a lot of people died on that march, I don’t think it was that one, sorry [unclear]. [coughs] What did he say about that? I can’t remember much about it at all
CB: How did he actually get back to Britain? Was he flown back or [unclear]?
DJ: Again, I don’t know whether he was on a boat or actually flown back, I don’t know, a lot of the prisoners of war were flown back
CB: They were in Operation Exodus, yes
DJ: So, it may well be that he was flown back but he never spoke about it and I never asked him the question
CB: Ok. Right. Well, David Jackson thank you very much for a most interesting.
DJ: An absolute pleasure, Chris.
CB: Just. Parents give advice to families and children all the time. So, what was your father’s what shall I say recommendation that you should do in life?
DJ: Well, one thing I can remember my father saying to all of us was that, just remember, you don’t have to prove anything to anybody and personally I never quite knew what he meant by that until we were at school when everybody it seemed wanted to challenge you or expected you to step up to the mark where a challenge was involved, this was even with the school teachers who, if there was a rugby game, football game, whatever, they would expect you to excel in what you were doing because
CB: Because of your father was a VC
DJ: Because of my father, yeah. And it really was difficult to live up to thatt a lot of the time, very difficult
CB: Right
PJ: You’re down?
CB: Well, we keep going. No, let’s just. Penny is here now, so let’s just get a bit of reflection on other things. What do you remember about your father-in-law, although you didn’t meet him very often?
PJ: I met him over about a two- or three-year period but the first time I met him, I knocked at the front door and he opened the door and he went, hello, who are you? And I said, my name is Penny and I’m here to see David. Just a minute, [unclear] over his shoulder and shouted, David! One of your girlfriends is here! That’s my first meeting with Norman Jackson. We had a few more like that afterwards, didn’t we?
DJ: Wonderful man!
PJ: [laughs] Oh, you want me to add that bit. Wonderful man! [laughs]
CB: And you did meet him again. And what did he say the second time?
PJ: Oh, I don’t remember the second time, I can remember
CB: Other times
PJ: I can remember a few wedding receptions, family wedding receptions where we went to where he’d rather stayed in the pub than gone to the wedding reception
CB: Right
PJ: And we had to help him out, didn’t we?
DJ: Yeah
PJ: We assisted him out of various pubs
DJ: He’d rather stay at the bar with his whisky rather than go to the actual function itself, yeah
PJ: Yes
CB: Well, he was a man who distributed lemonade as a whisky
PJ: True
CB: As a job
PJ: Oh, that’s a good excuse
CB: You’ve gotta have confidence in your product
DJ: Absolutely
CB: You must try it out
PJ: Of course
DJ: I used to [unclear] He was a John Hague man through and through, absolutely
CB: A man of great belief
PJ: He was
DJ: And conviction
CB: Conviction
PJ: He was a lovely man, very lovely man, nice family man, good heart
CB: How did, the two of you, what was your perspective of the lack of a Bomber memorial or a lack of a memorial to the bomber crews?
DJ: Well, I know what my father’s opinion on that was. Really, upset him quite a lot and personally I couldn’t understand why, I know a lot more about why now and even though a lot of people who come up with reasons why it shouldn’t have been put up need to really go back and relearn their history because their facts are wrong, totally wrong and it was shame that Winston Churchill really dismissed [unclear] knowledge with Bomber Command at the end of the war, I think that was a start a bit really but I know my father was very upset by the lack of the memorial to these guys and would’ve been very, very happy to have been at the unveiling of the memorial in Green Park had us talking when that happened but to wait so long after the end of the Second World War for a memorial to the service that had the highest loss rate of any of the services is unthinkable really, I can’t answer [unclear] just unthinkable
CB: Thinking of the history of this, bearing in mind the Germans were practicing in the Spanish civil war, what were the main things that stick in your mind about what the Germans did originally?
DJ: Originally by starting the Second World War
CB: Then the bombing context
DJ: I think that the bombing context of the German Luftwaffe, maybe the bombing of cities you could almost say happened by accident, Coventry was meant to be a reprisal for what happened with the bombing of Munich by RAF following Hitler’s speech in Munich at that time. The bombing of London was meant to be a mistake by one bomber that basically had navigation had gone wrong and ended up in the East End of London and dropped his bombs during the Battle of Britain but if that’s true then what happened in the Spanish civil war, places like Guernica
CB: Guernica
DJ: Guernica which was basically used as a proving ground for the bombing tactics of the Luftwaffe, in my view they always had the intention of destroying whatever they could destroy. I think that the Germans, the Second World War was the First World War almost as it evolved into was not like a normal war that beknown before it was total war and it involved everybody within the country, absolutely everybody. I do think that the Allies fought the Second World War as indeed the First World War with a degree of humanity. I don’t believe that the Nazis, I think for them humanity didn’t exist.
CB: You talked earlier about when father landed and by parachute and the reaction of with the comment Terror Flieger. Could you just for the record here explain what Terror Flieger, what they meant by that?
DJ: A flier that delivers terror. Probably in today’s terminology a terrorist. And I believe, and my father always understood it, these German cities were suffering night after night and so that’s how he understood it, as a person delivering terror, to people who as far as I’m sure, that man who lived in that cottage was concerned, they didn’t deserve it. Maybe he wasn’t aware of Germany’s position within the Second World War or the reasons for the Second World War. He knew what he was being told, whether that was the truth, who knows. But if the, where the Nazis were concerned, I doubt it. But I’m sure he looked at my father as someone that was pretty awful [laughs] and should, you know, should have been treated pretty bad, abominably really and not with any humanity at all. That’s what I think.
CB: And he’s unlikely to have known what was happening in London, Coventry, Liverpool, Belfast, Portsmouth, Plymouth, all these places
DJ: No, I don’t believe that at all, and I think we’re talking about a different time where people weren’t, where news wasn’t as readily available as it is today, I’m sure he would’ve been aware of the rise to power of Adolf Hitler and the aims of Adolf Hitler, whether he considered the rest of Europe was to blame, the Allies [unclear] the rest of Europe, for what was happening in Germany towards the end of the war and it was ill deserved as far as Germany was concerned I don’t know, but I’m sure, when he said Terror Flieger, he meant that these people, these Royal Air Force during the night, at night and the American Air Force during the day were delivering terror that was ill deserved on the German cities. [unclear] sure was what he meant.
CB: Thank you.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Interview with David Jackson
Creator
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Chris Brockbank
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-11-30
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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AJacksonDM171130
Conforms To
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Pending review
Pending revision of OH transcription
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01:25:11 audio recording
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Second generation
Description
An account of the resource
David Jackson tells of his father, Norman Jackson VC, born in Ealing, London in 1919 and who worked in an engineering company when the war broke out. After initially trying to join the navy, he then joined the RAF and classified as a fitter on engines. He was then posted to 95 Squadron and trained on Sunderland flying boats before remustering as a flight engineer. David gives a detailed and vivid account of his father’s operation to Schweinfurt on the 27th of April 1944, which earned him the Victoria Cross: although he had reached his 30 operations with 106 Squadron, he volunteered to join the aircrew to see them through, making this his thirty first operation; the aircraft was attacked by an enemy fighter and racked by cannon fire; with the aircraft on fire, Norman decided to exit the plane in order to extinguish the flames. At the second attack, Norman was blown off the aircraft and landed in enemy territory, breaking both ankles and suffering serious injuries on his hands. He reached a German village, where he was indignantly called “Terror Flieger”, taken into custody, paraded through the streets and taken for treatment to hospital, where he spent ten months. Afterwards he was interned in a prisoner of war camp. David remembers when his father was invested with the Victoria Cross at Buckingham Palace and met Leonard Cheshire. David remembers his father flying ten operations to Berlin and tells of one on which they were attacked by enemy fire and lost one engine. David tells of the legal issues regarding his father’s medals and how they ended up in the Imperial War Museum after being sold at an auction. He discusses his father’s views on the lack of recognition to the aircrews after the war and debates the bombing context of the German Luftwaffe.
Contributor
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Peter Schulze
Spatial Coverage
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Germany
Great Britain
England--London
England--Nottinghamshire
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Schweinfurt
Temporal Coverage
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1944-04-27
106 Squadron
95 Squadron
aircrew
Cheshire, Geoffrey Leonard (1917-1992)
fitter engine
flight engineer
ground crew
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
memorial
Operational Training Unit
perception of bombing war
prisoner of war
RAF Halton
RAF St Athan
RAF Syerston
Sunderland
training
Victoria Cross
-
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/903/11143/PJonesMH1602.2.jpg
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/903/11143/AJonesMH160422.1.mp3
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Jones, Mervyn
Mervyn Henry Jones
M H Jones
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with Warrant Officer Mervyn Jones (1600670, Royal Air Force). He flew operations as a wireless operator with 106 and 218 Squadrons.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-04-22
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Jones, MH
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
DM: This interview is being conducted for the International Bomber Command Centre. The interviewer is David Meanwell. The interviewee is Mervyn Jones. The interview is taking place at Mr Jones’ home in Farnham in Surrey on Friday the 22nd of April 2016. Ok. Mr Jones if we could start off with you saying a bit about your early life.
MJ: I was born in Abercynon. A small mining village at the junction of the Aberdare and Merthyr valleys. My father was a miner. Like most miners in those days there was very little money available and we were quite poor but we lived and enjoyed ourselves. My father wasn’t very keen on seeing his children being brought up in a mining village. First of all he went to Burnham on Sea or Highbridge to work on the farm there but decided that farming was not going to be very much better than mining from his children’s point of view. So he was given a lift whilst he was aiming to go to Poplar where he was told there was a lot of work. He got as far as Uxbridge and when he asked for directions to Poplar he was, he was then asked, ‘What are you going up there for?’ He said, ‘Work.’ And the individual he was talking to said, ‘Well, don’t go there. Go to Slough.’ So, he said, ‘Never heard of the place. Where is it?’ So, they told him and he and the friend he was with they went to Slough and spent the, spent the night on a, sleeping on a bale of straw in the cattle market only to be woken up at about 5 o’clock in the morning by all the cattle coming in. That was in about August. Dad got work and he managed to get a house to rent. And the rest of the family that’s my mother, my brother and two sisters travelled up in December 1935 and we lived, lived in Slough and around for quite a number of years after that. In 1939 I became employed by a firm of solicitors in Slough as the office boy. Duties were not too onerous but I was given various books to study with a view to making a career in the law.
[recording pause]
MJ: One little backdrop. In 1937 having read various newspapers about football teams I decided that I would go to the Arsenal ground and see a football match. I told my parents I was staying on this particular Saturday with a school friend when in point of fact I travelled up to Paddington and then on to Highbury. Saw a wonderful football match and I’ve been an Arsenal supporter ever since. That was in 1937 [pause] Come 1941 I volunteered, or went to join the air force realizing that I was in fact twelve months too young. So I told them my birth was 24th of January 1924 instead of 1925. And fortunately for me no, nobody really queried it. And I was duly signed in and in April 1942 I was told to report to Padgate. The [pause] my father had signed all the forms for me to join. He believed that I wouldn’t pass the medical but whether they were rather lax or not I don’t know but —
DM: Why did he think that?
MJ: Well, all the, all the Jones’ family suffer with ear trouble and although in those days it wasn’t too bad I still had trouble from time to time. I think it stemmed from when I, when I was a very small child every time I was teething I got ear infections. And it’s effectively the same thing throughout the whole of my life. If I get a cold I get an ear infection. Sometimes in both which is rather embarrassing. The — I reported to Padgate where I was kitted out and so on and then we went on to Blackpool. The radio school there. And having completed that course went on to Yatesbury where I was very pleased to pass out as top of the course which surprised me and surprised the family as well. We went from there to Peterborough and a little satellite drome called Sibson. We were supposed to be there to do repairs, or repairs to the radios in the Harvards that were used for training but for the whole time that we were there we didn’t see a radio. Didn’t see anything at all. All we did was guard duty and run of the mill stuff. But we went back to Yatesbury and finished off the course where again I managed to be top of the course. From Yatesbury we went to Stormy Down in South Wales for a gunnery course where lo and behold I came top of that course as well. I won’t tell you the whole secret of it but a lot, a lot of people were pulling my leg about the fact that the warrant officer in charge of both radio school and then the gunnery school was a personal friend of the family [laughs] So, I rather suspect that my successes were partly, must be partly down to him. I didn’t think I was that brilliant. I thought I wasn’t a bad wireless operator. We went from there to various sites. Cark and Cartmel for flying in Ansons. And then on to Market Harborough where we were flying in Wellingtons. Mark 1 with Pegasus engines. Totally underpowered clapped out old things that from time to time ploughed into the ground and killed all the crew. Whether we were lucky or not I don’t know. I think I must have been because we had no problems at all. We, we crewed up there with a pilot, Ginger Durrant. A navigator called Jones who unfortunately got us lost on a couple of occasions and got shifted out of the [pause] shifted out of our crew. And myself. We then, we finished training there and were sent to Swinderby to convert on to Stirlings which I was never enamoured with. But having done the conversion course we were then sent to Syerston to convert on to Lancs. Which we duly did. And then got posted to Scampton for about three weeks. And from Scampton we went to Metheringham. We went there at the end of February 1944. We got there and two days later it snowed and it stayed snowy. No flying for about two weeks. Then we did the usual familiarisation before we were ready to go on ops. It wasn’t until the 20th of March that we, we did our first trip which was to Frankfurt. And we had bombed and we were flying straight and level to take photographs and we were suddenly coned in searchlights which was quite an alarming experience. One minute it’s pitch black. The next minute you’re absolutely flooded with light. Anyway, the skipper put the aircraft in a very steep dive and threw it all over the sky and after a while and it’s difficult to judge how long it took, it might only have been a few minutes. It might have been a few seconds. But anyway we were suddenly in the dark again. And the thing that fascinated us was there was no anti-aircraft fire. There had been all the time that we were travelling but whilst we were in the searchlights there was nothing. And we came to the conclusion that searchlights were holding us so that night fighters could come up and attack. But anyway they didn’t and we got away with it. We got back on course. Came home with no problems at all. The second op was a major disaster. We were briefed to go to Berlin and it was the last of the raids of the [pause] I think they called it the war against Berlin but whatever it was it was the last of the main force flights to that city. Well, we took off and we got part way, about half way across the North Sea and the skipper doing the usual checking with everybody. Making sure they were ok. Called up the [pause] mid-upper gunner and got no reply. So the usual thing, if anybody wants anything done they call the wireless operator. So they called me, ‘Go and see what’s wrong with Wally.’ So, I went down there and shone a torch in to see what had happened. Wally was well away. He was flaked out and his oxygen tube was flapping in the breeze. How long he’d been like that we had no idea. Presumably from take-off. But anyway we dropped down to about eight thousand feet and kept going. And the engineer and I tried to get him out of the turret. At first we lifted him up with his bottom, unhooked the seat and with that we couldn’t hold him, the weight of him, he slipped down and was totally wedged. Feet in the front. His head over the guns. And his bottom sticking out of the turret. And it took us an hour to get him out. We strapped him in the rest bed, plugged him in to oxygen and the intercom. And by then we were well over the Baltic so we climbed up to operational height and turned to go due, almost due south to Berlin. This was the raid where the Air Ministry was forecasting the winds of sixty miles an hour. And our navigator said, ‘It’s more than that. It’s more like ninety.’ And in fact that’s what it was. So when we turned to go to Berlin we shot down from the Baltic to Berlin in no time at all. Realising that we were going at a fair, fair old lick he decided that when we, when we got to the target if it was marked we would, we would drop our bombs on the first run so we didn’t have to go around into wind which would reduce the ground speed considerably and making us a sitting duck for night fighters. Anyway, we went through Berlin and we dropped the bombs, got back on course to go home. No problems at all other than Wally. Anyway, we got, we got fairly close to England and got a message we were diverted to Wing in North Bucks so changed course and then the engineer, his nickname was Podge, he said we’d got trouble with the hydraulics. So, when we got over England we, I was given the task of pumping down the undercarriage to make sure we could land in reasonable fashion. I did that and Podge indicated to all of us that we, we would be able to land on wheels but we would have only a limited amount of flap and possibly no brakes at all. So anyway we, we got permission to land at Wing. We came in and landed and we landed on the almost on the perimeter track to try to make sure we had enough runway to be able to stop. But we didn’t. We just went off the end of the runway and pranged the thing. And when we got out we were told by the ground crew that, at Wing, the aircraft was a write off. Which turned out to be not quite true. It was very badly damaged but it was eventually brought back to Metheringham and they took about two and a half, three months to repair it. So we were taken back the following day by another crew, interviewed and so on and that’s the last we heard of it. But the one thing that we had discussed on the way back we would not say anything at all in debriefing or any, anywhere or anytime afterwards about what happened to Wally. Because if we did he would undoubtably be grounded and we didn’t fancy going through the rigmarole of having another replacement as we’d had a replacement navigator with Jones having been thrown out. We had a rather large individual given to us as our new navigator. A fellow called Jim Pittaway who was quite a bulky fellow and naturally he was called Slim. I use these nicknames because when we were flying we used those nicknames. We never called each other pilot or skipper or wireless operator or gunner or whatever. It was always nicknames. The, the bomb aimer was Buck. His name was Buchanan. The pilot was Ginger. The engineer was Podge. The navigator was Slim. I was Taff. The mid-upper gunner was Wally. And lo and behold the rear gunner was Keith [laughs] because nobody could think of a suitable nickname for him. Anyway, we, we had two little dodge it flights for the first experience. The remarkable thing was that apart from a few flak holes in the rest of our ops we had no problems at all. It was uncanny really that we did another thirty three ops and we had no difficulties of any description. It was quite remarkable. When I say that there were two occasions when we had to abort for an engine trouble but you know, that that happens to everybody. The — can we, for a moment?
[recording paused]
MJ: We did thirty five ops because quite, quite a few of them were at one stage described as a third of an op. Mainly the occasions when we went to France instead of Germany. After, after our fourth trip, the fourth one in fact was that infamous Nuremberg raid, after our fourth trip we were given Able as our aircraft. And we did twenty eight out of our thirty five in that aircraft which is, was a squadron record for that particular aircraft which completed a hundred and eleven ops [pause] The painting up here was given to me last year as the sole surviving member of our crew in recognition of our twenty eight ops in that one aircraft. The nearest to us — I think there were two or perhaps three that did eleven but that was the gap. Eleven to twenty eight. It was quite a record.
DM: Did you keep in touch with the crew after the war?
MJ: I did with the pilot. With Ginger but not the others. I initially made contact with them but it just faded away. So I thought oh well perhaps they’ve got their own lives to live. They didn’t, perhaps they don’t want to live in the past. But it was only Ginger that I kept in touch with and it was fortunate that he was in touch with the rest of the crew and passed on information about them from time to time.
DM: When you were on ops what were the off, what was the off duty periods like? Did you all associate together as a crew or — ?
MJ: Yeah.
DM: Were you all NCOs or —
MJ: Until, until we got to the squadron we were all NCOs. And then Ginger was commissioned. But the rest of stayed as sergeants, flight sergeants and ultimately warrant officers. A lot of our raids as I said were over France. And we operated twice on D-Day. First time was about 3 or 4 o’clock in the morning. And then we went back again 11, 12, 1 o’clock for a second op. And then after that it was communications and occasionally German reinforcements. You know, tank squadrons. That sort of thing. They also did a lot of communications. Railway junction sand bridges and so on. There were also a couple of doodlebug depots. One in particular that we went to twice in forty eight hours was a place called Saint Leu-d’Esserent which was a storage place for these doodlebugs. We operated that particular night with 617. We went in at, the base that we had was 617 at Woodhall Spa, 83 and 97 Pathfinder Squadrons at Coningsby and 106 at Metheringham. That was base. We flew several times with 617 but that Saint Leu-d’Esserent was a bit of a shocker really. The storage was actually built into the side of a mountain and we were briefed to bomb the approach roads and railways. 617 in the first raid had other duties. I don’t know exactly what. But certainly on the second one they had these earthquake bombs and dropped these on top of the, not on the, right at the top but up the mountain and blew the whole thing to pieces. It was, I gather never repaired after that. The trouble was from our point of view that on the first raid there were two aircraft lost. On the second raid there were five. Which was the second time that the squadron lost five aircraft. The other occasion was [pause] I can’t remember the name of the place we went to but it was the night that 106 Squadron got its first or perhaps I might say the second Victoria Cross. I say second because Gibson was the officer commanding when 106 was at Syerston. And from there of course he went on to the Dambusters and that’s when he got the VC. We finished our ops in July.
DM: ’44.
MJ: ’44. The last raid was a bit of a nightmare from the weather point of view. We flew from Lincoln down to the middle of France to Givors. And for most of the journey we were in a thunder storm and lightning flashing everywhere and so we had to switch all the electronics off. We didn’t want them blowing up and starting a fire. We were about a quarter of an hour short of Givors when the clouds stopped. Beautiful evening. We duly bombed, turned around, came back and flew all the way back in the same thunderstorm. Very uncomfortable journey. Well, I then finished. Well, we all finished our tour. Ginger, because he’d done the second dickie trip had done thirty six. The rest of us with the exception of Slim, the navigator who missed one op because he had tonsillitis, he did thirty four. The rest of us did thirty five. I was then posted back to Market Harborough instructing. Something which frankly I hated. You get in the aircraft with a trainee wireless operator and he was told to operate. If he had any trouble come to me. Well, I must have been lucky or very unlucky depending on which way you look at it. I was never asked to do anything. So all I did was sit on my parachute on the floor opposite the wireless operator and toured around the country in these clapped out old Wellingtons. Didn’t like it at all. And I made several attempts to persuade the CO to send me back to a squadron but he wouldn’t have it. Anyway, at the end of, end of six months I was posted. Sent to 218 Squadron in Chedburgh in 3 Group which, the squadron had only fairly recently converted on to Lancasters. That prior to that they were still flying in Stirlings. Anyway, we, I did three more ops and the war ended. So I was a little frustrated because I thought there was a good chance of being able to complete a second tour. Anyway, that was that. The end of thirty — thirty eight ops. We then had the Manna ops. Flying and dropping food in Holland. I did four of those. Then I did seven Exodus trips bringing back British mainly prisoners of war. Flying them from Juvisy to Hurn, outside Bournemouth. And then back to Chedburgh. And then I did one ferrying a Lancaster to Abu Sueir which is near Port Said in Egypt. The idea was the aircraft were then being sent out to the Far East. We only did one. It was, it was a glorified holiday. We were stationed then [pause] I had a pilot called Lofting, a navigator called Andrews and an engineer who was called Conant. He proudly announced that his father who lived at Cottesmore where there was a ‘drome anyway, his, his father was the MP for Rutland. But he, he — no I won’t go on that. We’d, we were stationed at [pause] I’ve forgotten the name of the aerodrome now. Near Newquay anyway. Sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. We were stationed at Dunkeswell near Honiton and we flew from there to St Mawgan which is near Newquay. From St Mawgan we were briefed to fly to Abu Sueir. Stopping first at Tripoli. Unfortunately on the very short journey from Dunkeswell to St Mawgan the port inner packed up and the radio failed. So there we were at this VIP station where all anybody flying across the Atlantic especially the big wigs landed there and were treated with food that was by our standards out of this world. And we were given the same food, the same treatment as the VIPs. I could have stayed there for the rest of the war actually. It was rather nice. Anyway, we, they brought in a new engine. Fitted that. And repaired the wireless. Or so they thought. We took off heading for Tripoli. Got half way across the Med and the engines started playing up again and the wireless packed up. So we decided the nearest ‘drome was an American one at Tunis so we logged in there. Contacted Tripoli. Told them what had happened. And we, we spent about a week in Tunis doing all the things that we couldn’t do back home. Again living with American breakfast and Tunisian food for lunch and dinner. Went to the cinema a couple of times. On the first occasion Conant lit up a cigarette and you could see the smoke going up as the beam of the film was on the screen. Then all of a sudden we were [laughs] I think there must have been about four people, these ushers or usherettes or whatever they were shining torches at us and old Conant put his cigarette out rather smartly [laughs]. Smoking was banned in cinemas out there. Anyway, we eventually got as far as Tripoli just in time for Christmas. We had a very hilarious time there. And then we flew on to Abu Sueir. Left the aircraft and travelled into Cairo by train. A very slow journey but quite comfortable. And they must have thought we were thirsty people because every five minutes they were coming around with kettles full of tea. Very weak tea. Tons of milk in it. What sort of milk I wouldn’t know but I suspect it was goat. Anyway, we went, we went to Cairo and spent New Year’s there and flew back in a Dakota on New Year’s Day. From Cairo to Luqa in Malta. No. To El Adem in the desert, Luqa on Malta, Nice and then home. And we took off at 4 o’clock in the afternoon of the 1st and arrived at Hurn about mid-day on the 2nd. A boring journey. There was nothing to do. There were no magazines to read. It was just a case of shut your eyes and let things go by. Anyway, we got back and we were told we were to take another aircraft out there. And we did familiarisation on, but two lots of circuits and bumps and that was the last of my flying in the air force. And I got sent to various stations after that. No flying. Ended up in the demob office getting everybody ready to go home except me [laughs] which was a bit frustrating at times. But anyway in August of 1946 [pause] That’s right. August ’46 I was demobbed. Sent down to Wembley, kitted out with a suit and a hat and shoes and what have you and went home. And I was officially given leave as everybody was. I made contact with a firm that I used to work for and yes they would take me back as a junior clerk at the princely sum of three guineas a week which was a bit of a come down considering that I was getting about seven pounds a week in the air force. All my friends who had been in the army or the navy they were all demobbed at the same time and they all, I think all except one worked in Mars on the Slough Trading Estate. And they, they were earning far far more than I was. That didn’t worry me. I was looking to the future and I kept on studying. Unfortunately, I was told after a while that I should pack it up. I had two illnesses that were causing or had caused a lot of problems. One of them I had what the doctor described as the finest dose of shingles that he’d seen in all his career. So I decided that’s it. You’re not going to qualify as a solicitor. You’ll be for the rest of your days, as I was at that moment a solicitor’s managing clerk. Now described as a legal executive. And I held that job until I retired in 1989. I came back as I say in ’46 and in ’47 I met a young lady that in 1948 I married and she’s sitting over there. We will be celebrating our sixty eighth wedding anniversary on the 17th of July this year. We had one daughter. You might have seen when you came in. One grandson sitting there. And I’ve one great grandson who is coming up to two.
DM: When you, when you look back on your days in the air force what’s the sort of abiding memory? You know. Is it one of pleasure or fear or what?
[pause]
MJ: I enjoyed my time in the air force except for that period when I was instructing. Or supposed to be instructing. From the point of view of entertainment, pleasure and so on particularly when we were at Metheringham it was a case of into Lincoln, have a couple of beers, go to the cinema. Things like that. I always made, I made a promise to my father that I would, I would keep him informed as to how I was getting on with various ops. And rather a primitive idea every time we did, I did an op, I wrote and said I’d been in to Lincoln to see a film. And I named the film thinking that, you know if the censors people opened it and read the letter that they might think it was genuine. It wasn’t. Anyway, I [pause] I did this the whole time and he kept the letters. And it wasn’t until oh many many years afterwards [pause] the 1980s I think it was my brother was doing some decorating, came across the letters, decided he didn’t want them and threw them out. And I was a bit annoyed actually because some of them were quite interesting letters from the point of view of what we were doing but without disclosing any trade secrets. Anyway, it was something that happened and you know I was annoyed with him at first but oh well that’s it. We, we, as a crew we kept to ourselves very very much. I can’t remember where it was. I think it was at Swinderby. A couple of crews were assembled and they were given a talk by a flight lieutenant who had done two tours. It was a general talk about life on, on the squadron. One of the things that he said that stuck in the minds of all of us was, ‘Don’t become too friendly with other crews because if you do and they get shot down you will feel a lot of embarrassment, a lot of sympathy. It could upset you quite considerably that these friends of yours had just disappeared.’ So we talked about it afterwards and decided well we’d keep ourselves to ourselves. I mean we didn’t snub anybody but when we went anywhere it was not as a whole crew. It was sort of, ‘I’m going in to Lincoln tonight, Wally. Interested?’ ‘Yeah. Ok.’ And off we’d go. And the same with the others. They would do that. It didn’t happen quite the same way when I was at 218 Squadron. That was quite different. I enjoyed it there but there wasn’t the friendship with the crew. Partly I think because they had been shot down. The pilot was killed. The wireless op, his parachute was damaged so he jumped out holding on to the navigator. But as soon as the parachute opened [pause] the navigator and the parachute went up and I’m afraid the wireless op went down and he got killed. And I was there replacing him. The pilot we had, also a replacement, back on his second tour. And the navigator. He didn’t want to fly anymore. But he was just given a ground job and that was that.
DM: Did you have any superstitions? Any routines? Anything you had to do before you flew? Or —
MJ: No. The only thing that we did we had a doll which was given to Keith by his girlfriend. And it was then handed to me so that I could on every trip strap it up to the pole that was by the side of my radio. Tied it up the top. And it did thirty five ops and then when we parted I gave the doll back to to Keith so he could return it to his girlfriend. I met a WAAF as everybody did at some stage or other. Chatting with her she produced a little green sort of leatherette dog. Only a tiny little thing, ‘Take it on ops with you.’ So we took it on ops for the second one which I described to you. To Berlin. And that’s the only op the dog did [laughs] We, I I don’t think, oh I can’t speak very well for the others but I don’t think I was ever scared. When we, when we were coned in searchlights I was worried then. I remember not panicking but thinking, ‘God, we must get out of this otherwise we’ll get the chop.’ You know. And there was nothing any of us could do except rely on Ginger which we always said he was a very good pilot and by God the way he threw that Lanc about that night was unbelievable. I thought he was going to loop the loop at one stage. He was a very very good pilot.
DM: You mentioned the ear problem. Did that ever give you problems when you were flying? You obviously didn’t miss any ops because of it but —
MJ: What I had trouble with in flying was sinus. I wasn’t going to report sick. No way. If I couldn’t hear I couldn’t hear. That was it. You know. But seriously I didn’t like the idea of reporting sick. Missing ops and then becoming a spare bod. Flying with any Dick, Tom and Harry that was short of a wireless op. I didn’t fancy that at all. We had two little incidents where we more or less did the wrong thing. Buchanan went into the kitchen at the mess one night and leaned back, put his hand down on the red hot stove and on his left hand, which was fortunate he had an enormous blister on the palm of his hand. He just took a, stuck a bandage around it, wore a glove and kept on flying. And on one op, having ground tested everything we got out of the aircraft and waited for the signal to rev up and go. And I was getting out of the, getting out of the Lanc after doing what was necessary, caught my foot on the stepladder that we used to come out of the — get in and out of the Lanc. I just fell flat on my face from the top step down and I ripped my hand, the right hand. It was badly swollen but I wasn’t going to go sick. No way. But other than that and Slim having a couple of days in hospital when he had tonsillitis or flu or something apart from that nobody had any problems at all. Going back to [pause] the second trip to Berlin, in all the time that we were together after that nobody ever mentioned Wally’s oxygen. There’s no record of it anywhere. We just didn’t. Didn’t want to change despite his silly mistake of not connecting it up properly. You know. You get to know people and you trust them. And we did trust Wally. Even after that incident. He, he was quite a good gunner. But they never had to fly like Keith. Never had to fire his guns in anger. In all the trips that we did we never fired guns.
DM: Did you have any thoughts after the war about the way Bomber Command were viewed in the aftermath? You know. This sort of almost disconnect with with what had happened.
MJ: No. I thought about it and I thought we were doing the right thing. The Germans had bombed every capital in Europe. Quite indiscriminate bombing. They came over to this country and bombed London and Coventry and Portsmouth and so on. Quite indiscriminate. They started it and we finished it and it, that was it. Now people say they very much regret the fact that they dropped these bombs and killed civilians. But I haven’t heard any German saying he’s sorry for having killed people in London. I look at it on the basis it was an all out war. If we didn’t win then we would be finished as a country. We would. Life, if you were allowed to live it would have been hell. It was something we just had to do and did it. I never regretted it at all. The one thing that does upset me is every time they talk about Bomber Command they talk about the last big raid. And it’s quite silly really because what happened was the same as happened in Hamburg when they bombed that. Nobody could forecast that there was going to be sudden strong winds fanning flames and so on. The same thing happened in — I don’t remember the name of the town [pause]. Right at the end of the war. [pause] I’m being told over there.
Other: [unclear]
MJ: Hmmn?
Other 2: I should know and I can’t remember.
Other: Dresden.
Other 2: Dresden.
MJ: Dresden. Yeah. I read a number of books in recent years about Dresden. Some were very anti the Bomber Command for having bombed it and more or less destroyed it. But there was one that I read, I can’t remember the name of the author but it gave a very very good account of why Dresden should have been bombed. At that stage even if there was no reason to have bombed it before Dresden was the railway junction at the southern part of the Eastern Front. And millions of German soldiers, armaments, tanks you name it all passed through Dresden to get to the southern Eastern Front. There were no very big factories in Dresden but there were hundreds of small factories. Some operating in garages and sheds and things like that. All producing items which were then transported to main depot and fitted as part of radar and so on and so forth. So from that point of view there was, as the book quite firmly came down to the fact that Dresden should have been bombed before. And it was, there was a request from the Russians to to bomb that town in order A — to stop the manufacture of armaments. Radar bits and so on. And B to stop the German army sending troops through that depot. I I [pause] I don’t think it was the wrong thing. In fact it was necessary in my opinion. That. I’ve never regretted dropping bombs on Germany for the simple reason it’s not just tit for tat because we dropped a damned sight more bombs on them then they did on us. And with a regime like the Nazis they just had to do that to get rid of them. You know. I had no regrets at all. I may be a bit exceptional in that. I don’t know. But it annoys me when people who have been on ops suddenly say that they’re terribly sorry for what they did. I don’t think they should say that. I don’t think they should even think it. It was something that just had to be done.
[recording paused]
MJ: A little earlier I was talking about not being too friendly with other crews. Other personnel. We generally kept to that. Not snubbing anybody or or so on but we didn’t become friendly. When I joined up I was sent to Oxford for medical examination and [pause] I was standing next to a young chap who told me he’d come from Portsmouth. And everywhere I went he went. And we started talking. When I was told to report to Padgate I was walking through the gates and who should be standing or walking next to me but this fellow. A chappie called Bill Sizer. And he told me that his, his father and his uncle were colour sergeants in the Marines and they didn’t take kindly to the fact that he’d joined the air force. Well, Bill and I did all our training together right up to and including Market Harborough at OTU. And then he and his crew were sent straight to Syerston to convert on to Lancasters whilst as I said before we went to Swinderby to convert on to Stirlings and then on to Lancs. So that he was a month or so in front of us. He was posted to Waddington first and then they moved to Fiskerton with 49 Squadron I think it was. Yes. 49. And in June of ’44 I was outside our billet writing a letter home and Ginger came along and said he’d got some bad news. That Dickinson and his crew, Dickinson was the pilot, Dickinson and his crew which included Bill Sizer had been shot down and were still missing. Or treated as missing and eventually they found out that in fact that they were all killed in the south of France. When he told me that initially my first thought was that lieutenant is going to be proved right because I was very upset. He was the only person that I really became friendly with in the whole time apart from the crew that I became friendly with during the whole time that I was in the air force. I think it shook everybody in our crew because strangely enough all, all the members trained together. The two pilots trained out in America. The two bomb aimers, both Canadians, they trained together in, in Canada. Engineers trained together. The wireless ops trained together. The two gunners trained together. And the only difference was the navigators. Jones had trained at the same time as Dickinson’s navigator but not Slim. But that upset me more than anything and I realised then that this flight lieutenant was absolutely right. We talked about it for, you know, one night in the billet. Ginger said something like, ‘Forget it. But don’t forget them.’ And left it at that. And we did. We didn’t mention it at all after that. You know, it was a sad situation but it happens to everybody.
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Title
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Interview with Mervyn Jones
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David Meanwell
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2016-04-22
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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AJonesMH160422
PJonesMH1601
PJonesMH1602
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Pending review
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01:11:36 audio recording
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eng
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Description
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Mervyn Jones is a miners son from Wales. His father wanted a different life to that of a miner for his son and the family moved away to Slough where was plenty of work. Mervyn had always had trouble with his ears and so his father assumed he wouldn’t pass his medical although he signed all the forms giving his permission for Mervyn to enlist. In fact Mervyn lied about his age to enlist and was indeed successful in his application. A WAAF gave him a little green leatherette dog to take on ops. On this particular op the mid-upper gunner passed out through lack of oxygen, the predicted winds were wrong and so they had to rearrange their flight plan and on return they lost hydraulic power. It was the last time the dog went on ops. The crew were advised about not getting too involved with other crews and the reason for this became obvious when one crew they were all friendly with were killed in action.
Contributor
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Julie Williams
Spatial Coverage
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Germany
France
Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
England--Suffolk
Germany--Berlin
Temporal Coverage
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1944-02
106 Squadron
218 Squadron
617 Squadron
Air Gunnery School
aircrew
bombing of the Creil/St Leu d’Esserent V-1 storage areas (4/5 July 1944)
Lancaster
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operation Exodus (1945)
Operation Manna (29 Apr – 8 May 1945)
Operational Training Unit
perception of bombing war
RAF Chedburgh
RAF Market Harborough
RAF Metheringham
RAF Stormy Down
RAF Swinderby
RAF Yatesbury
searchlight
Stirling
superstition
training
Wellington
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/645/11269/BStevensonPDStevensonPDv1.1.pdf
0ca00135d690b4148fa8190b98631354
Dublin Core
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Title
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Stevenson, Peter
Peter Desmond Stevenson
P D Stevenson
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IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
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Stevenson, PD
Description
An account of the resource
Two items. An oral history interview with Peter Stevenson (b. 1923) and his memoir. He grew up in Lincolnshire and while he was working towards an engineering apprenticeship he rose through the ranks to become a Warrant Officer in the Air Training Corps.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Peter Stevenson and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Date
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2016-08-17
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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CADET 1935-1945
Peter D Stevenson
[page break]
Page 1
CADET 1935 – 1945
By Peter Stevenson, a very junior twelve year old schoolboy when this decade started to a somewhat disillusioned twenty two year old young man who, ten years later when it all ended ‘Who had also served who only stood and waited’; came to the conclusion that though it had been a very interesting and formative period of his own life, had to admit that it had not done a great deal to win the war.
For all that it seemed to be a story worth telling, a story which must be dedicated to the many who had suffered that he might live to tell that story and do his bit towards winning the peace that followed.
[page break]
Page 2
[underlined] CONTENTS [/underlined]
Introduction 3
Chapter One I catch the Air Bug 6
Chapter Two Private Stevenson P.D. KSGOTC (1935-39) 13
Chapter Three The Public School’s Air Cadet Wing (January to August 1939) 35
The 1939 Public Schools Air Cadet Wing Camp at Selsea Bill 37
Chapter Four Formation of the Grantham Squadron of the Air Defence Cadet Corps (1939) 45
Chapter Five ARP Messenger P.D.Stevenson. ‘Goes to War’ (1939) 52
Chapter Six I Join No.47(F) Grantham Squadron Air Defence Cadet Corps (1939-40) 58
Chapter Seven 47(F) Sq. Air Training Corps with No. 12(P)AFU at RAF Spittlegate(1941) 66
Chapter Eight 47(F) Sq. ATC with 207 Sq. RAF Bottesford (1941-42) 69
The 1942 Summer Camp at RAF Bottesford 76
Chapter Nine 47(F) Sq. ATC with 106 Sq. RAF Syerston (1942-43) 82
Formation of No. 830 Company Girl’s Training Corps
Chapter 10 47(F) Sq. ATC with The Magic Air Force (9th TCC. USAAF) at RAF Fulbeck 94
(1943-44)
Chapter Eleven Anticlimax and Finale (1944-45)
Epilogue (1945 to 2006)
[page break]
Page 3
[underlined] Introduction [/underlined]
This is the story of an eventful decade in the life of a young man with two ambitions.
He wanted to become a qualified engineer and, as the clouds of war gathered, to serve in the Royal Air Force with a commission in it’s Technical Branch.
It starts in his school days and progresses through his engineering apprenticeship and Technical College studies and eventual maturity. Running right through this is a common thread of service in a succession of Cadet organisations. It ends by looking back over nearly seventy years, with a tribute to the lifelong benefits he derived from the groundwork skills and benefits which such service left him with, as he pursued a post war career in engineering design and the technical training he passed on to others.
He was twelve years old when these two ambitions began to materialise. This was the age when his grammar school allowed its pupils to chose [sic] between ‘The Arts’ and ‘The Sciences’ and at the same time allow him to join the first of his cadet units. He dropped The Arts and joined the school’s ‘OTC’, the pre war somewhat elitist precursor of today’s Combined Cadet Force. However, before his story can begin to take shape, a wider view of overall scene which surrounded him really needs to be expressed in order to add a necessary perspective.
---O---
As everyone knows, the Second World War ended in the summer of 1945, but those of us who grew up between the wars would be the first to admit the seeds of this second conflict were sown in the months immediately following the ending of the first.
The horrors of Flanders had ceased less than five years before I was born. Its bitter memories had bitten deep into the souls of not only my own forebears, but also into those who had survived the war at the front and the bereavements and privations of those on the Home Front. In spite of the annual Armistice Day exhortations that “We will remember them”, civilian attitudes seemed determined to “Forget” as far as possible.
The man in the street and unfortunately, the majority of those in government authority, who still regarded themselves as being in the centre of the British Empire upon which the ‘Sun will never set’ What went on in the Continent was of little interest and was none of our business anyway.
The Treaty of Versailles had left Germany, crippled and bankrupt both economically and politically. A decade of ineffectual governments, each desperately trying to recover from rampant inflation and chronic unemployment, left the hotbed conditions for the rise of Hitlerism. So far as most people in Germany were concerned, any leader was better than none.
In Britain, equally futile governments thrust their heads ever more firmly into the sand. ‘Disarmament’ (at any cost) was the order of the day from the early Nineteen Twenties onwards. All three Services were cut down to mere cadre status, sufficient only to maintain the Empire and police the Dependencies and Protectorates in the Middle East and elsewhere.
With the destruction of Germany, there seemed no point in arming against what was considered to be a nonexistent [sic] European threat.
Luckily, there were a few people in high places who saw more than the ground immediately in front of their noses. Some of these were prepared to fight all forms of governmental apathy and bureaucratic inhibition. For them, the establishment of an effective defence strategy, backed up by small but technically prepared military force which could be rapidly expanded, should the need arise, was still vital for our future.
In all three services, dedicated and far seeing individuals kept each respective flame alight during a decade and a half of budgetary cuts and personnel reductions. Front line, supply and training establishments were cut to the bone. Withdrawing into a few key locations, they were determined to match diminishing quantity with increasing quality of men, equipment and potential.
Until the coming of the Industrial Revolution, my home town had been a typical sleepy country town, centred in a wide expanse of rich farming countryside. In the late 1700s it had been connected to the
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markets of the Midlands and the South by a canal and at the same time received incoming supplies of coal and other commodities. Grantham began the first phase of its expansion. In the 1840s, it received the next boost with north to south mainline railways and important east to west branch lines. Already astride the Great North Road, it now became an important focal point in the country’s communication network. In the remaining decades of the 19th century, heavy engineering industrial expansion gained it an international reputation for the quality and quantity of its products. During World War One, it converted rapidly into a centre for munitions production and an important army training area. In 1917, two nearby hilltops became flying training camps for the Royal Flying Corps.
When the war ended in 1918, Grantham’s industrial capabilities reverted to the peacetime production of diesel engines, farm machinery and the needs of a local agricultural economy. The big army camps were dismantled and the grounds they occupied returned to pre-war parkland status. The erstwhile Territorial Barracks were returned to the care of the weekend soldiery. One of the airfields was also closed down and returned to agriculture. The other went into ‘Care and Maintenance’ for a while.
However, this was not to be the end of Grantham’s military involvement in the post-war scene. April 1918 had seen the Royal Flying Corps and the Royal Naval Air Service merge and become the infant Royal Air Force. During the war both the RFC and the RNAS has found the skies (and the ground) of Lincolnshire ideal for the training of their pilots. Although the majority of the home defence and other operational airfields had been returned to agriculture, it was decided that three of the flying training airfields should be retained. Their levels of activity might very well be reduced but all three were very much in ?Grantham’s hinterland.
The post war reorganisation of the RAF centred very much on the training up of a small but well trained new generation of pilots. Six Flying Training Schools (the ‘FTSs’) would be set up, one in Egypt and five in England, of which three would be in Lincolnshire. The furthest away would be RAF Digby, some sixteen miles to the northeast of Grantham. Next would be RAF Cranwell, ten miles in the same direction. An ex RNAS airfield, it would in time become the first Aviation College in the world, and share its airfields with its own FTS. Finally, Grantham’s airfield would not only have its FTS but would also be the home of the FTS Training Group. {Incidentally, over the next half century, the Air Ministry had great difficulty in making up its mind as to what name this particular airfield should bear. Back in the RFC days it had been called ‘Spit[underlined]tle[/underlined]gate’, the name that not only the locals always used, but also used by most if not all those who served there over the years. At various times, the Air Ministry decided to rename it [underlined] RAF Grantham [/underlined] but after a while decided to go back to the original name. However, this time it was called RAF Spit[underlined]al[/underlined]gate for a while until went back to RAF Grantham again. To avoid confusion, throughout this narrative, it will always be called Spittlegate, the name of the village immediately below the airfield which eventually became incorporated into the borough of Grantham.]
Grantham therefore became very much an RAF town in the 1920s and the decades which followed. The people of Grantham got very used to blue uniforms in the town and aircraft in the blue above. The Grantham shops got trade, RAF families not in the extensive station married quarters, lived in the housing estates, and their sons and daughters went to the local schools.
As already mentioned, the Army was not completely unrepresented in peacetime Grantham. The town was still proud of the fact that it still had a small detachment of Lincolnshire Regiment Territorials. Their members made their way, perhaps a little self consciously, up to the Barracks, and marched much more confidently in the annual Remembrance Day parades, and their annual camp was given much reportage in the local weekly newspaper.
There was however, an ‘Army’ unit which will feature in the second chapter of this account. In it, was much ‘Esprit de Corps’, equal pride in marching behind the Territorials on Remembrance Day, and an equal enthusiasm for its annual camp and ‘field days’.
Grantham had its Grammar School, the King’s School of some six hundred years standing. It was the proud possessor of its ‘OTC’ – the ‘Officer’s Training Corps’. Supported by and largely financed by the War Department, it was hoped by the latter that, following its creation in WW1, it would continue to supply a small but steady stream of ‘officer types’ for its peacetime needs. Few of its boy soldiers ever stood a chance of gaining a permanent commission in the Regular Army but it was felt that the rest would receive enough basic training to make them good ‘rankers’ should the need ever
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arise. In any case, they hoped, this would be a useful recruiting ground for the Territorial Army when they left school.
These OTC units were undoubtedly elitist in their outlooks, closely reflecting the ‘Town and Gown’ mentalities of those pre-WW2 Grammar Schools. After that war, such elitism was anachronistic and the OTCs, became Combined Cadet Force units, reflecting the less class conscious and more technical emphasis of modern warfare.
This then, is the background to this account of a cadet who started his decade of ‘military service’ as a very young ‘boy soldier’ in the Grantham King’s School Officer’s Training Corps.
Ten years later, older and perhaps somewhat wiser, he ended up as a Cadet Warrant Officer in the Air Training Corps in the closing months of the Second World War.
This introduction has been written in general terms with the occasional use of the third person. Something which does not endear me greatly in the few autobiographies I have read is the over use of the first person singular. However, trying to write in the third person often results in something which verges on the pedantic. So, I will do my best to keep the number of ‘Is’ to a minimum and hope the reader will excuse the rest.
I suppose also that I should bow to convention and end this introduction with acknowledgements and apologies. To the many cadets in all the cadet units in which I served I give my heartfelt thanks. From them I learned as much as I gave. To the many servicemen in the units to which we were attached, I also give my heartfelt thanks. To those cadets and servicemen who lost their lives in service, I give my heartfelt gratitude. I shall not forget that famous Kohima tribute ‘For my today, they gave their yesterday’. Mine was not a spectacular or heroic war. I can only take comfort from the other saying that ‘They also served who only stood and waited’.
Apologies too. Memory is a strange beast and after more than sixty years, hindsight is more than a little myopic. Some events are as clear as if they only occurred yesterday but at my age the main problem is “Exactly what was it that I was doing yesterday!” So, if you also lived through those eventful years, bear with me, and if you remember differently, by all means get out your writing sticks, and add your quota of memories to the great memory bank in the skies.
A further apology. Faces I can remember but I have never been able to remember names. If you think that I have not mentioned this person or that, it could well be that to mention this person and not that, could well offend the latter. Better perhaps to be a ‘little economical with the truth’, and this could well apply to events as well.
Oh, and don’t forget. Even if you did have a camera then, you could not get films, and if you did manage to have both, you were not allowed to use them, so the few pictures I do have will be scattered amongst the narrative or may be lurking away in appendices to this account.
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[underlined] Chapter One I Catch the Air Bug [/underlined]
[AIR BUG – Defn. In the 1920s and 1930s the youth of Britain was perpetually being encouraged to become ‘air minded’. If one became thoroughly air minded then one was accused of being bitten by the Air Bug. I admit to have been badly bitten.]
I was not ‘Lincolnshire Born’. My mother’s family was Yorkshire, my father’s was Nottinghamshire, but my grandparents settled in Lincolnshire towards the end of the nineteenth century. I was actually born in Scarborough but I grew up in Grantham. As a result, I consider myself more of a ‘Yellow Bellie’ than a ‘Cuckoo’.
One is often advised to make sure that you choose your parents carefully. In this respect I think I can claim to have chosen well. Although my parents and grandparents (with one exception) could never be regarded as great intellectuals or scholars, I was extremely lucky to find them well endowed with a lively curiosity and interest in local, national and world affairs. Amongst other things, it looks as if I chose to be the grandson of a highly regarded, if provincial, ‘gentleman journalist’ (sadly, an extinct species). His son, in spite of being a reluctant scholar, apparently had dinned into him that type of education which, it is said, is what is left when you have forgotten most of what you have been taught. My maternal grandmother did come from a highly intellectual and talented family and between the lot of them, the genes they passed on to me are much appreciated. I sincerely hope that I have not let them down over the years.
Conversations round the family tables were always lively and I can never remember being talked down to. Even though it was an age when children were not supposed to talk unless asked to do so, I was still expected to have some opinion on most things under discussion.
My father, born in 1895, had a grammar school education and after leaving became a cub reporter under his father’s tuition. Aged nineteen when WW1 broke out, he immediately volunteered. After basic training, his regiment crossed to France where it was involved in the battles of late 1914 and early 1915. Mentioned in Despatches, wounded twice, he was invalided back to England. After eighteen months in army hospitals in Harrogate (where he met my mother) he spent the remainder of the war on the staff of an army training establishment. Demobbed, the best civilian employment he could obtain in his hometown was a dead end clerk’s job in the local police station. Married now and with a son, he came home to start afresh in Grantham.
His time there was not completely wasted. Amongst other things, he had worked for a Ford distributor and had learned a thing or two about selling cars and running a business. Once back home, he got a job as a car salesman with a large garage in Grantham, which he soon managed to get established as the main Ford distributor in Lincolnshire. Above all, he had come back completely ‘Ford Minded’.
Within a few months, the word ‘Ford’ had become magic and anything bearing the word ‘Ford’ was special. I learned all about Henry Ford starting the mess production of the legendary ‘Model T’, the ‘Tin Lizzie’. I also learned that in that Big Country, air travel was becoming big business and that, following the success of the Tin Lizzie, Henry Ford had gone into the aircraft business with the Ford Trimotor which proved a similar success. Promptly christened the ‘Tin Goose’, its reliability, load carrying and ability to work from small rough airfields not only set new standards in travel but was also popular as a freighter. Soon it was being used for travel and freighting in the North of Canada.
At this point, the U.S. Navy came into the picture. If the first decade or so of the 20th Century had been the Golden Age of Polar Exploration on the ground, the 1920s became the Golden Age of the Conquest of the Air. Using a Ford Trimotor, Admiral Byrd and his U.S. Navy expedition, became the first to fly over the North Pole.
Flushed with this success, another much larger expedition under Byrd, was sent to Antarctica in 1928. There they set up ‘Little America’, an air base on the Ross Ice Shelf, from which they laid refuelling bases, which were used to enable a Trimotor to be the first aircraft to fly over the South
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[inserted picture]
In all aeronautical history, it would be difficult to find even one airplane with more drama, more adventure, and more rugged versatility attached to it than the famous Ford Tri-motor.
Affectionately known as the “Tin Goose”, this outstanding airplane, with its corrugated aluminum [sic] skin, was the first all-metal airplane, and the first commercial aviation transport, designed and built in the United States. It was also one of the very first airplanes to carry passengers for the pioneer airlines of this country.
Built by the Ford Motor Company, the first of this most revolutionary aircraft was unveiled at Detroit in 1926. In it, combined for the first time in one airplane were such developments as enclosed pilot cabins, brakes, heaters, full cantilever wings and doughnut tires.
Most of the U.S. airlines bought Ford Tri-motors and many of today’s leading air routes were opened and developed with this versatile airline pioneer. As flown by the airlines, each plane could accommodate 11 passengers in a cabin that had an average width of only 4 1/2 ft.
In 1929 Admiral Richard E. Byrd on one of his Antarctic expeditions, included a Ford Tri-motor, equipped with skis, in his equipment. It was in this Ford that this great explorer made his famous flight – the first time man had flown over the South Pole. This actual airplane is now a part of the aviation exhibit on display at the Henry Ford Museum, Dearborn, Michigan.
Wingspan of the Ford Tri-motor 4-AT is 74 ft. and overall length 49 ft., 10 in. The three engines gave it a cruising speed of 110 m.p.h. and a top speed of 130 m.p.h. Empty weight is only 6500 lbs. Simplicity is the keynote of construction. Control horns and control wires are mounted outside the airplane. Passenger seats are woven reed. Instruments for the side engines are mounted on the strut above the nacelles and viewed from the cockpit. The entire surface of the airplane is constructed of corrugated aluminum [sic].
More than 30 Ford Tri-motors are still being flown commercially today – more than a quarter-century after being built. It is even now, called “the best ship available for carrying heavy loads into tricky fields.”
As proof of the advanced design and efficiency of this famous historical airplane, the Tin Goose will again be produced in quantity. A West Coast company will build 100 Tri-motors from the original Ford blueprints, making only minor changes to take advantage of today’s smaller, more powerful engines. This is a fine tribute to a plane first manufactured 30 years ago and still worthy of being produced again in its original form.
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Pole. In true American enthusiasm for their other passion, the cinema, this expedition was accompanied by a full ’movie’ crew who, on their return, produced an epic film of an epic flight.
Eventually this film was shown on one of Grantham’s cinema screens, and being thoroughly Ford, my father and I went to see it. Now, if I am pressed to name the event which initiated my thoughts towards the air, it would certainly be this film. Subsequently, I went off on my own several times to see it again. Certainly, when it came to aircraft, the Ford Trimotor became my First Love. This film also sparked a lifelong interest in the Antarctic. During the next few years, I read all the Scott and Shackleton Diaries and anything else available in the Grantham Library about Antarctic exploration, but that is another story.
No doubt in the previous seven years, the Spittlegate aircraft had been circling oven the town. It was just that up to that time, they had not registered. Now they were there. Admittedly nothing quite so big and beautiful as my Trimotor, but well worth watching in future.
My grandfather had to report for his paper on the visit of Alan Cobham and his Air Circus. His Press Pass got us both in for free and I had a wonderful afternoon. The flying was certainly thrilling but it was the aircraft on the ground which really fascinated me.
Then I began making my pilgrimage up Cold Harbour Lane, the lane which ran along the north eastern boundary of the Spittlegate airfield. With the wind in the right direction the planes would come sideslipping in, right over my head, engines puttering over and the slipstream whistling though [sic] their rigging. I could wave to the pilots and occasionally they would wave back.
More down to earth, in the autumn of 1932, just after my ninth birthday, I moved school.
This was not in the depth of the Thirties Depression, and my father’s salary, largely based on commission, was pretty low. There were few people around with money to spend on cars. However, my parents had sufficient confidence in me to send me off to the Grammar School.
At the time, the King’s was a fee paying school, although it was possible to pass what was called the County Minor Scholarship exam, which at least paid your fees. Regrettably, I did not pass and since you only had one chance, that meant that my parents were lumbered with my school fees for the next six years. In later years, when I discovered that this took a whole week’s pay every term, I was more than a little ashamed that I had not been a better scholar.
One normally started at the King’s School at the age of eight and for the first four years you were taught to a generally wide syllabus which gave you a good basis on what might be your line of specialisation when you reached the age of twelve. A certain amount of Physics and Chemistry was balanced by four years of simple Latin and ‘The Classics’, while subjects like Maths, History and Geography would continue after specialisation.
Once I was settled in. I quickly discovered that in addition to the usual cross section of boys from the town and the surrounding countryside, there was quite a high proportion of sons of RAF personnel. I quickly became friends with two of these whose parents lived in the town rather than in the married quarters. I had a fair amount of contact with their fathers and was privy to a fair amount of ‘shop talk’, all of which helped to fuel the interest.
Small boys in general are remarkably schizophrenic in their choice of potential careers. My father’s new job had brought me into contact, not only with the Ford car but also the Fordson Tractor. Our family finances had been much helped by us moving into a company house next door to the premises which dealt with tractor sales and repair. In addition to the tractor and implement showroom, there was a replacement parts store and a repair workshop, all of which was accessible to me through a side door in the house. Naturally the presence of a small boy in the showroom was not welcomed when a prospective buyer was there, but this Alladin’s [sic] Cave was open to me at all other times of the day. I soon discovered that tractors were far more interesting than cars. That was probably due to the fact that the car workshop foreman had a short fuse when small boys were around, whereas the tractor fitters were more than willing to show the small boy in question, what went where and why. Also, most of a tractors ‘gubbins’ tended to be on its outside so that you could see what was going on, rather than having to poke around under bonnets and things.
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[underlined] 26 THE GRANTHAMIAN [/underlined]
* * *
Capt E. Elms.
At the end of this Term the School will suffer, in the retirement of Captain E. Elms, the loss of another link with pre war days. Captain Elms came to the School when the new Workshops were built in 1935, and their continued efficiency has been his constant endeavour ever since. Although Captain Elms came to us from the Estate of Mr. Christopher Turnor, he was no stranger to school-mastering, having spent many years as the Head of a London Technical Institute and being concerned during the 1914-18 war with the training of thousands of men and women for war work.
In 1920 he was granted a regular commission with the rank of Captain in the Army Educational Corps and served on the staff of the Royal Military College, Sandhurst, where he did much pioneer work in the early mechanisation of the regular army.
During his stay with us Captain Elms has introduced the spirit of pride in craftsmanship and a keen desire to produce a good job of work, which has stood in good stead the hundreds of boys who have passed through his hands, and it is with real regret that we learn that Captain Elms is giving up his post here on doctor’s orders. It is to be hoped that the rest from his labours will bring him back to full health and strength to enjoy many years of ease and leisure, which he has so justly earned in the service of The King’s School.
* * *
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[photograph]
Capt. E. Elms
Handicraft Master, 1934-1946
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The Main Dealership agreement which my father had negotiated with the Ford Motor Company resulted in him having to go down to Dagenham every few months. Since in those days, cars had always to be collected from the works (there were no such things as car transporters) he would combine such a visit with the collection of a new car. He also discovered that a second hand car in good condition would always fetch a much higher price in the London area. So, he would take an old car down, attend his business meeting, and bring a new car back. Again, in those days, cars had to be ‘run in’. This involved driving it very carefully at no more than thirty miles per hour for the first thousand miles. This was especially important in the first hundred miles of the car’s life. The 110 miles back to Grantham was a four hour journey of utter boredom. So, in the school holiday times, he started taking me along with him and once we arrived at the works he hand me over to the Works Guide team. Here was an even bigger and better Alladin’s [sic] Cave and by the time I had gone round with them several times, I had got a pretty good idea as to how the various parts were made and how they went together to make cars and tractors.
By the time I was ten or eleven, I had made up my mind that when I left school, I would become a Ford Apprentice. Then, my apprenticeship completed, I too would go over to the States where I would apply to join Ford’s Trimotor service organisation. Having qualified as a fitter on the ‘Tin Goose’ I would join the U.S. Navy and go on the next Antarctic Expedition. How’s that for teenage logic? Of course, in the way of such juvenile dreams, nothing ever came of it, except that there remained a growing feeling that I would eventually become an engineer, preferably in the field of aeronautics, and perhaps in the RAF
Having finished my junior schooling, I was now at the great crossroads. ‘The Arts’ were not for me and as I moved up into the upper school, I rapidly dropped Latin (what I had learned, often came in quite useful in later life). Music was also dropped (which perhaps was a pity as I could well have done with some basic music theory also in later life). Hopeless at art, this was also dropped thankfully. The time spent on English Literature, History and like subjects was reduced, and opting for ‘The Sciences’ meant the time spent on Physics and Chemistry was increased.
The biggest, most interesting bonus of entering the upper school happened to coincide with what, at the time, was a rather revolutionary development on this old established grammar school’s curriculum. Grantham’s King’s School had, over the centuries, produced a goodly number of academics and a few notable scientists (including Sir Isaac Newton). These however, had been at the time when it was centred in a largely rural environment. With the coming of industry in the 19th century, Grantham had become a major engineering centre and the origins (and destinations) of it’s pupils changed dramatically. In spite of the fact that it did it’s best to retain its grammar school ethos. In order to progress, it had to accept that a significant proportion of it’s pupils would end up (hopefully) in the more respectable levers of industry and technology.
The present headmaster was a progressive, doing his best to lift the school out of the stuffiness of decades of the Town and Gown mentalities of his predecessors. His Board of Governors was a good mix of local dignitaries, with enough industrialists to reflect their pupil spectrum. His local government Director of Education was also progressive in his outlook. The end result was that basic handicrafts in the working of wood and metal would replace traditional Art subjects such as painting and sculpting for those pupils opting for the Sciences. To bring this about, a well equipped workshop was built and equipped with wood and metal workbenches, simple machine tools, a forge and brazing equipment. A ‘Handicraft Master’ was appointed, who proved to be a lifelong inspiration to all those pupils who thenceforth aspired to become engineers or, failing that, proved in later life to be good handy men about the house!
If I aspired to be an engineer, then this man became my mentor from the day the Workshop opened for business. Before going on to other matters, I really ought to pay tribute to one other mentor of that time. I mentioned earlier that the foreman of the car garage did little to
CADET 1935-45 CH.1.V4.doc
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[photograph]
de Havilland Gipsy Moth [inserted] (MILITARY VERSION) [/inserted]
[photograph]
NOTTS ASSEMBLY. – The Fleet of the Nottinghamshire Flying Club and privately-owned craft at Tollerton. The club-house is standard pattern devised by the ill-fated National Flying Services.
[inserted] WHERE I HAD MY FIRST FEW FLIGHTS WITH TOBY MARTIN (HIS GIPSY MOTH WAS PROBABLY HAVE ONE OF THOSE NEAREST THE CAMERA [/inserted]
[inserted] two postage stamps [/inserted]
[inserted] I HAD ONE OF THESE WHEN THEY FIRST CAME OUT [/inserted]
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encourage me to frequent his workshop. The same could not be said about his superior, the Service Manager. A qualified engineer, an ex Royal Engineers Major, a specialist in recovering First World War tanks from distressing and undignified situations, he had become a close friend of my father. He also took an avuncular interest in my early technical education, and incidentally took me up in my first few flights in his Gypsy Moth, which he flew from the Nottinghamshire Flying Club’s airfield at Tollerton’ near Nottingham. That soon became my Second Love and added another bite from The Bug.
It would be about this time that Meccano brought out their sets of aircraft parts which produced far more authentic looking models than those you could make up from the standard Meccano components. Looking back, this was perhaps the starting point of my aeromodelling career.
Thus, the stage seemed to be set for me to start on a career as an engineer but, you may well ask, is it not time for a start to be made on all this ‘Cadet 1935 to 1945’ business?
True enough. Please turn to Chapter Two.
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[underlined] Chapter Two Private Stevenson P.D. KSGOTC [/underlined]
By 1935, the antics of Hitler and his Nazi friends were beginning to cause grave concern amongst the regrettably few politicians and others whose heads were not so firmly thrust into the sands of Disarmament. They were only too aware how pitifully unprepared Britain was to defend itself against the growing threat of German Nationalism and it’s associated territorial ambitions. In spite of the Pacifists and the still ongoing years of depression, the Services did get slight increases in their budgets, but after much argument in Parliament. These did enable them to make some attempt to replace out of date equipment and to increase their recruitment and training programmes.
In the case of RAF, this was the time when they started to award contracts for new breeds of aircraft which, in time, would win the Battle of Britain and the air offensives which followed. Closer to home, there was a marked if gradual increase in flying activity at Spittlegate, Cranwell and Digby – to say nothing of more boys at the King’s School with fathers in the RAF. In spite of this, the King’s School was not outwardly pro-RAF. It was, of course, pleased to have an increase in it’s fee paying scholars. Particularly so, when fathers were posted elsewhere and in order not to interrupt their son’s education, left them as School Boarders. On the contrary, the King’s School was firmly ‘Army Property’ in that it had it’s Officer’s Training Corps, a unit of some standing.
During the first world war, when the life expectancy of the front line subalterns was little more than three weeks, calling for a constant flow of ‘gun fodder’, the inland Grammar Schools had been drawn into a ‘catch ‘em young’ policy with the creation of the OTCs. These [underlined] Officer’s [/underlined] Training Corps existed at two levels. In the Public and Grammar Schools, these were Junior OTCs in which the boys, between the ages of twelve and eighteen would be trained up to a ‘Certificate A’ level which qualified them for [underlined] consideration [/underlined] for a possible commission in the Territorial Army. If in the relatively rare case of the pupil going on to University, he could then join the University’s Senior OTC, hopefully passing Certificate B, which most probably gave him possible entry to Sandhurst.
In both cases, it was hope, when the time came for them to be called to military service, these boys of potentially officer grade would have been well imbued with Army discipline and traditions, together with the elements of infantry training and leadership. From the point of view of the War Office in the first war, the OTCs did an excellent and worthwhile job.
So much so, the post war War Department decided that the OTCs were still a [sic] valuable sources of potential officer and NCO material for the Regular and Territorial Armies. Besides, they would provide valuable Leadership and Character Training, ‘buzz words’ which were very much in vogue at the time.
At school level, for those with OTCs, it became automatic thinking on the part of both masters and pupils, that most boys would, on entering upper school, join it’s OTC unless their parents were particularly set against such ‘militarisation’ as the Pacifists put it.
However, in spite of the fact that locally based RAF personnel outnumbered that of the Army by something like twenty to one, and that ratio was reflected in the pupil roll, nevertheless the school was still Army orientated in it’s outlook. In the absence of anything resembling the OTC on the part of the RAF, there would be little or no encouragement from the school for any of those boys who had ‘caught the air bug’. There was therefore no real choice but, if one gained a Certificate A, it might be a useful pawn when one appeared before an RAF Selection Board.
My own twelfth birthday was in August 1935. So, on the first Thursday afternoon of the new school year in September, I became Private Stevenson of No.4 Platoon of the King’s School Company, Officer’s Training Corps, attached for training purposes to the Lincolnshire Regiment of the British Army. The individual concerned no doubt felt considerably less imposing than the title above would have you believe. He was, of course, the lowest form of military life, and it was not long before he was reminded of the fact.
The first parade of the Autumn Term was a proud one for all concerned. The four platoons reflected the age and status of their place in the school’s hierarchy. No.1 Platoon was composed of boys who had, as a result of the previous year’s terminal examinations, moved up into the Upper Fifth and Sixth Forms. They were predominantly fifteen year olds since most of the sixteen year olds had left
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[photograph]
Lt.-Col. M. H. Raymond, M.A. (Cantab.), T.D.
Master 1921-52, O/C. The King’s School
Contingent C.C.F., 1924-52.
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school already. The remaining Sixth Formers were those who had not been promoted NCOs for the other Platoons. No.2 Platoon were fourteen year olds, now in the Lower Fifth Forms. No.3 Platoon were thirteen year olds now in the Fourth Form. These three platoons, mostly in full uniform, were ‘Fallen In’ with appropriate ceremony, and were doing their best of look smart.
For the moment, No.4 Platoon was merely a motley mob of twelve year olds who had been herded into a safe corner of the school quadrangle by a stern looking, very grown up Sergeant (so he appeared to us, he must have been all of sixteen!) These ‘recruits’ had, for their sins, moved up into the Upper Third Forms, and had thereby qualified to join the ‘Old Tin Cans’.
Each move up into a new platoon was an immense rise in prestige (and pecking order) No.1 Platoon were now possessors of two uniforms. ‘Bests’ were for special occasions – special parades such as the Annual Inspection, Founder’s Day and the Armistice Day Parades, as well as going to the Annual Summer Camp. ‘Seconds’ were for those parades when the ‘men’ were supposed to look, feel and work like real soldiers. ‘Seconds’ were identical with Bests, but had reached the point where signs of wear and tear, brought about by drill, exercises, field days and annual camp, ruled them out for more formal occasions.
Nos. 2 & 3 Platoons had to make do mostly with Seconds, although a few whose drill was particularly smart could join No.1for [sic] special occasions. These uniforms were basically WW1 infantry. A round hat, khaki serge jacket with high collar (hot and prickly in summer), ‘Plus Four’ type khaki serge trousers with knee length ‘puttees’ and black boots, the latter having to be provided by parents.
For the first parade of the new year, Bests were worn by Nos 1 & 2 where issued. The remainder of No. 2 and No.3 wore their Seconds. No.3 were immensely proud as they were wearing full uniform for the first time, even if they were a bit tatty in places. The parade had been preceded by frenzied activity in the kit stores when outgrown uniforms were exchanged for better(?) fits.
As for No.4 Platoon, on that first parade, one could say that as yet they did not exist as such.
They were merely a loose scrum of small (so they felt) somewhat apprehensive twelve year olds, herded into a corner by an impressive Sergeant ‘in ‘is Bests’ bearing obviously new stripes, and doing his best to look as important as he feels. Still in our normal school uniforms, we had no external signs of having become ‘Privates’ or anything else for that matter.
We had watched as the Company Sergeant Major, scarcely recognisable as our erstwhile Head Boy, strode out from the school cloisters and howled for ‘RIGHT MARKERS’. Three figures had emerged from a conglomerate of khaki elsewhere in the quadrangle and had been positioned to the former’s satisfaction, whereupon, to a drum beat Nos.1, 2 and 3 platoon ‘got Fell in’. Right Dressed and subjected to an initial inspection by their respective Sergeants (more new stripes) the Sergeant Major called the lot to attention. This was the signal for sundry junior officers to emerge in their turn from the cloisters, revealing that they too, on close inspection bore remarkable likenesses to several of our form masters. Having taken command of their respective platoons, the Second in Command emerged to take over the whole parade, each of which takeovers being accompanied by a succession of ‘Attentions’, ‘Stand at Eases’ and mutual saluting. Having taken up a position of importance on the front of the parade, the ‘2 i/c’ was now approached by the COMMANDING OFFICER.
Having assumed command, he proceeded to inspect closely all three platoons, silently (but sometimes less silently) expressing his dissatisfaction at the regrettable loss of smartness and established Good Order and Discipline, he handed the platoons over to their officers and then headed over in our direction, much to our further apprehension.
Captain Raymond was, on the other days of the week, our senior English teacher and even in that role was something of a martinet. In his military guise, he was even more so, tending to strike terror into transgressors both in class and on the parade ground. His determined step in our direction was to say the least of it, unnerving. He stopped in front of our motley group who, by that time had been herded into some semblance of order by the Sergeant. He regarded each of us in turn (as if he had never seen us before) with a cold silent gaze, expressing obvious disgust. After a pregnant pause, he said “Carry on, Sergeant” and stalked away after acknowledging a crashing salute from the latter.
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The Sergeant proceeded to ‘Carry On’ in more ways than one. He announced that although we were not wearing uniform, [underlined] we were now in the Officer’s Training Corps [/underlined], and we were not to forget it. For our first year in No.4 Platoon, our school uniform was also our OTC uniform. From now onwards it must be maintained to a much higher standard of neatness and cleanliness than it had previously been used by mere schoolboys.
In one’s teenage years (term not yet invented) someone who is three or four years older appears to be an adult even if he is only sixteen in actual fact. He has had three or four years of ‘military service’ by then and may also be a School Prefect. With the latter’s authority to inflict punishment which prefects had in those days, plus his now military authority, the utterings of our Sergeant seemed to have the authority of the Law, if not that of God himself!
Anyway, he told us that our shoes were filthy and by next parade he would expect to see his face in them. Our trousers were little better and he would expect them to be pressed with a straight and sharp crease. Our jackets were similarly over due for a good brushing. Our ties were yanked straight and our caps must be worn straight and level, and we all needed a hair cut.
Having got that lot off his chest, the time had come he said, for us to learn a bit of basic foot drill. We were taught to ‘Stand to Attention’, ‘Stand at Ease’ and ‘Stand Easy’. Detail is largely forgotten (it was seventy years ago) but every Thursdays afternoon it was ‘square bashing, so it seemed. We learned to Fall In, Fall Out, Right Dress and Salute, Right Turn, Left Turn and About Turn. We learned to Number, Size and because the Army at that time marched in Columns of Fours, we also learned that interesting manoeuvre ‘Form Fours’.
Drilling at the Halt more or less mastered, we then had to go on to Drilling on the March.
In the process of concentrating on swinging a stiff arm and wrist (thumbs pressed down etc) up to the level of the waist fore and aft, the command “Quick March” presented, in a few cases some immediate problems. Having established that the first step was always with the [underlined] left foot, [/underlined] this was often accompanied by the left arm being swung forward at the same time. The resulting progress would be somewhat reminiscent of that of a camel. That sorted out, we then had to master upon which step an About Turn was started, how many to get round to the opposite direction and when (and how) to step off again. The same applied to Left and Right Turns on the march, together with Right and Left Wheels. It was amazing how difficult the simple process of walking from A to B had become! On the other hand, our parents were having to get used to sons who now seemed to delight in Marching everywhere rather than adopting their previous ambulatory gait.
We had taken turns at being Right marker and had made a reasonably smart exhibition of ourselves at Falling In, Right Dressing, Falling Out and Saluting, and it was felt by our NCOs that we could be trusted to Fall In with the other platoons at the beginning and end of parades. Came the day when the Sergeant Major howled for Right Markers and four of these strode out, and four platoons ‘got Fell In’ without rousing the anger of all in authority about us.
With that, we really felt we were beginning to be soldiers, especially as now we were ‘in uniform’. Admittedly only just, one might say. We had been issued with khaki webbing belt with a brass buckle and a couple of extra brass fittings, the significance of which we would only learn later. Next was our introduction to that wondrous substance ‘Blanco’ which we learned to apply without getting khaki everywhere. ‘Brasso’ for the brasswork, without getting black stains elsewhere. Wearing this, we were now in the third category of uniform – ‘Mufti’.
This was an Arabic word brought back by the army to describe clothing worn by the soldiery when not in uniform. Two thirds of all our parades would be in mufti, i.e. school uniform plus the by now ubiquitous khaki webbing belt, no doubt to spare the Best and Second uniforms from wear and tear. However, we in No.4 Platoon must not be confused with the ‘real soldiers’ in the other platoons. Their belts would include the ‘Frog’, an extra bit of khaki webbing which would carry our bayonet scabbard when we progressed to rifle drill, but that was not for the ‘sprogs’ in No.4
Although it still feels like it, we did not spend the whole of every Thursday afternoon on the parade ground. We also had lectures on various subjects which, as we learned later, were the beginnings of the subjects on which we would be examined for ‘Certificate A’. Ranks and Badges, Army Structure and Organisation, Rules and Regulations, the first elements of First Aid and Hygiene, Map Reading are the ones which I can remember. No doubt there were others.
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‘Officer material’, we were not being trained as mere ‘rankers’. We were being trained as leaders and we were expected to act as leaders. We must not only learn (whatever it was) but we must also learn to teach – or rather ‘instruct’. Every new drill movement or any other subject was not only taught to a high level of competence, but each one of us in turn must expect to be called upon immediately or at a later date to instruct the others in that movement or subject. Of course, at No.4 Platoon level, this usually involved only simple drill movements, but from the very beginning we got used to standing out in front of the Section or Platoon and take command irrespective of whether we wore stripes or not.
This was all heady stuff. Discipline was always strict but there was also no shortage of praise where praise was due. Having received praise, we also learned to look for praiseworthiness and not be afraid to give it. We all became dead keen and looked forward to new subjects, though most of these were mainly symbolic. The Services make great play on the expression ‘Esprit de Corps’ and every man jack of us from twelve years upwards, stood high, marched high and bawled out our commands as good as the rest.
Which was just as well, for the high point of the spring term’s OTC activity was usually the Annual Inspection. For the OTC boys there was no school work that day, but it was no holiday. It was very much a ‘spit and polish’ affair and even closer attention was paid to hair length, trouser creases, shine on footwear and brasswork and general appearance. Drill movements were practised to perfection.
In addition to our usual officers hovering in the cloisters as we went through the initial stages of Falling In, the presence of the Inspecting Officer and his entourage, visibly heightened the tension. When the parade was ceremoniously handed over, he then proceeded to make his initial inspection. This took time as each man in each platoon was examined from head to toe and questions asked. The platoons not being inspected were thankful to be stood At Ease, but as he finished with No.3 Platoon, the command of ‘Attention’ to us, brought heartbeats up to heart attack levels as we stood strictly Eyes Front. The Inspecting Officer, usually a ‘Top Brass’ from Northern Command, cast his eye critically over us. We appeared to pass muster, and, acknowledging an even greatly smashing salute from our Sergeant, moved on to higher things.
The rest of the morning superficially resembled a typical Thursday afternoon’s activity. I was to learn later that it had been carefully orchestrated to show each platoon at it’s best, drilling, learning and instructing in turn to allow the Inspecting Officer to drop in at will to observe and examine. Apart from foot drill, I don’t think much was really expected of No.4 Platoon, but for all that, he watched us carry out a typical routine of movements at the halt and on the march. We had almost reached the point of relaxing when a couple of us were called out to instruct. So far as I can remember, I was not one of the (?) lucky ones. That happened on one of the later Annual Inspections.
The morning successfully over, we were dismissed for lunch. In the afternoon we were marched up to the School Field, preceded by the Band who had gone through their Counter Marching and other gyrations, bugle calls and drumming displays during the morning. Thereafter the senior platoons demonstrated their tactical and ‘battle’ skills with much shouting of commands and firing orders, together with some hopefully impressive bayonet charges. As yet No.4 Platoon was not up to such extremes and I think we spent most of the time watching, as the Inspecting Officer watched on with a critical eye. The programme over,
the Inspecting Officer expressed his satisfaction of all he had seen, congratulated us upon our turnout etc., etc., accepted a ceremonial General Salute from the Band and a final March Past, received and acknowledged a further round of salutes and departed with his entourage.
We marched back to school amidst sighs of relief for another year.
As the spring weather improved, we were introduced to another ‘delight’, the Route March. Pre war, the army did not have much in the way of troop transport. ‘Footsloggers’ were expected to footslog their way from A to B. for those who had them, this was a uniform afternoon and headed by the band, off we would go through the town and into the country lanes, fifty minutes march and ten minutes break. The first route march of the season would be for five or six miles but later this would be increased to ten miles or so. One hundred and thirty paces to the minute, roughly three miles per hour with our length of leg. The ‘adults’ of No.1 Platoon could, if necessary’, manage the regulation thirty three inch pace, but No.4 Platoon found it hard going. Amongst the other commands such as
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‘March to Attention’, ‘Eyes Left’ to a passing RAF Officer, etc., there would be the frequent cry passed forward of ‘Shorten Pace’. The relief was usually short lived as the Band having had a break from blowing, stuck [sic] up a new tune, to which the forward platoons immediately stepped out in response.
We had by now learned a little about ‘tactics’ in our theory lectures. As the better weather of late spring promised the possibility of dry grass, we frequently marched up to the school field to put into practice the principles of Section and Platoon field movements. We spent much time advancing, retreating and taking cover behind what little cover there was. Most of this seemed to be in the prone position, interspersed with mad, but carefully controlled dashes which were officially supposed to be ‘charges’.
This was all a bit theoretical in the case of No.4 Platoon as we did not have rifles. At twelve years old or so, we were mostly too small to handle the 8,1/2lb, 0.303in Lee Enfield without doing ourselves or others some serious damage. However, we had our khaki belt, and in the best Army tradition, we ‘went through the motions’, as much as anything to impress the other non-OTC boys who were condemned to spend their Thursday afternoons ‘gardening’. These pour souls, rarely in the least interested in things horticultural, were being persuaded by seemingly equally unenthusiastic house masters to cultivate the six small plots of land euphemistically called ‘House Gardens’ in which a few long suffering flowers and vegetables strove to survive.
Whatever their motivations, inspirations or inclinations, we ‘soldiers’ despised the ‘gardeners’/ in the years before we could join the OTC, we had done our share of gardening to level and prepare ground for new rugby and cricket pitches and no doubt there were a few in our ranks who had joined the OTC solely to escape further gardening.
As can well be imagined, the average school field does not contain much ‘cover’ from a military point of view. Our field contained the usual pavilion and gardening sheds, plus a captured WW1 German Howitzer which must have been attacked and defended countless times during the Twenties and Thirties before it eventually succumbed to the WW2 scrap metal drive. Finally there were those House Gardens alongside the eastern boundary.
By the middle of the Summer Term, there would be a fair show of vegetation in these and therefore qualified in the eyes of we, the soldiery, as potential cover. As a result, much to the annoyance and frustration of the house masters doing their best to maintain some measure of order and orderly growth, the gardens were bravely defended and resolutely attacked. Eventually, when combat reached the point where actual bodily harm threatened the vegetation and/or its reluctant cultivators, complaints from the house masters resulted in a Standing Order being issued placing the area ‘out of bounds’. This would hold for the rest of the school year but would have been conveniently forgotten by the commencement of the following year’s Spring Offensives. The summer term had two high points for the older platoons, which were denied to those in No.4. These were the Field Day and the Annual Summer Camp. In both cases, the participants had to be old enough, possessors of full uniforms and competent in arms drill. We were none of these and had to watch the departure of the privileged, taking some small comfort in the fact that in time, such delights would come our way. When indeed it did come my way, there would be much to recount. But it was still painful to have to wait.
Schooling in the Thirties was heavily examination orientated. In addition to the end of the year scholastic exams to decide the Movers Up and the Stayers Down, we also had OTC tests and assessments. I don’t think anyone actually stayed down in No.4 Platoon but we were nevertheless closely advised to revise all we had learned in the past year. In the interest of Esprit de Corps and personal pride, these tests had to be passed with the highest possible markings.
The Summer Term ended with much personal satisfaction on the part of Private Stevenson P.D., knowing that he had been not found too wanting scholastically and would be moving up a Form, but he would also be moving up into No.3 Platoon. His last military act was to carefully blanco and polish his belt and hand it into Stores. For the next few weeks he would revert to civvie life, forget school and the Army and catch up with the RAF.
Once again there would be the pilgrimages up Cold Harbour Lane, that green lane bordering the north eastern boundary of Spittlegate airfield, to check up how the pupils of No.3 FTS were
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RAF GRANTHAM 1938
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Avro 504N
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Armstrong Whitworth Atlas Trainer
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Hawker Tomtit
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de Havilland Tiger Moth
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Avro Tutor
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Hawker Hart Trainer
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Avro Anson
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progressing and to find out what, if any, new aircraft were doing their Circuits and Bumps. Although the pattern of flying did not appear to have changed much over the previous year or two, quite a lot had happened to the aircraft. For Elementary Training, the legendary Avro 504N had given way briefly to the Hawker Tomtit. This in turn had been replaced by the first of the de Havilland Tiger Moths, which No.3 FTS were the first to introduce into training service. In their turn, they had been replaced by the new Avro Tutor. There had also been changes in the Advanced Training aircraft. The ageing Armstrong Whitworth Atlas was replaced by the Hawker Hart Trainer which was fast enough to outpace most of the current fighter types. These were all single engine biplane types, but the RAF would soon be introducing two monoplanes into front line service as the rearmament programme slowly gained momentum. Suddenly our sound spectrum had a new sound as the Avro Anson trainers began their circuits. There was much to see and note, and the fathers of my two school friends, one on the FTS staff, the other on the staff of the Training Group H.Q. were quick to transmit their enthusiasms for the new types. To our delight, the three of us were smuggled in to the hangers one day to make first hand contact with them, and for the first time I was able to sit in cockpits and lay hands on controls.
Feet once more on ground, there were two other significant developments that summer. The Air League of the British Empire, had done much to promote the Hendon Air Shows, and had also taken a large hand in the promotion of the RAF Open Days. Spittlegate was one of the first to open its gates to the general public, and in addition to an impressive line up of its own aircraft, hosted a wide variety of new and tried aircraft from the other RAF units. These were great events, both on the ground and in the air displays forming an essential part of the programme. Naturally, I was in the first group to rush in when the station gates opened.
The other event was also an Air League development. As a continuing aspect of its Air Mindedness programme, it had started a Junior Section. For a modest subscription, its monthly magazine kept its readers up to date with all the latest in military and civil aeronautics. Having been one of the first to join, this magazine was to become essential reading, to the detriment of homework assignments on the days following its arrival. Copies were filed away for reading through again and again through the school holidays.
Like all summer holidays, that of 1936 went all too quickly. The last week was a desperate attempt to complete the holiday homework tasks (which of course had got left to the last possible minute). School uniforms were cleaned and the summer’s accumulated grime was carefully removed from shoes. There was also a most important item to be purchased, a pair of black army style boots!
The first parade of September 1936 was typical. Frenzied activity in the area of the Quartermaster’s Stores over the previous days had equipped the new No.1 Platoon with ‘Bests’ (Appropriately larger) together with Seconds. They had also been reissued with ‘Service’ rifles (i.e. capable of being fired with live and blank ammunition, possessing sharp bayonets, and these were being furiously cleaned, oiled and lovingly examined. The new No.2 Platoon were issued with Seconds and most of them had to be content with ‘Demonstration Purposes’ rifles. These ‘DP’ rifles, long past being safely fired, still carried their regulation Bolt but its firing pin had been removed, so that it could still go through the motions of being fired with ‘DP’ rounds, to the general safety of all concerned. To their delight the new No.3 platoon would now in time be issued with Seconds, but until they had mastered the arts of wearing them correctly, they had been reissued with the inevitable khaki belt, but this differed in one vital respect.
This term, No3 Platoon would begin Arms Drill, which involved the wearing of the bayonet (D.P. and therefore blunt), and this called for the addition of the ‘Frog’. To the uninitiated, this small extra piece of webbing, used to hold the bayonet scabbard when worn, hanging down the left thigh of the wearer, would be the one thing which distinguished the seasoned troops of No.3 Platoon from the riff-raff of No.4 Platoon when Mufti was being worn! As before No. 3 would not parade with arms until they had learned to handle them.
Bearing the appropriate accoutrements, the parade Fell In with the exception of No.4 Platoon which once again did not yet exist. In No.3, we Faced Front and ignored the presence of a heap of very young looking humanity herded into one corner by a very new Sergeant who also seemed to be nothing like as old as our Sergeant. Surely, they didn’t expect to make soldiers out of that lot!
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SIR ARTHUR & LADY LONGMORE WITH THEIR FAMILY AT ELSHAM HOUSE.
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[underlined] THE ‘SHORT LEE ENFIELD’ 0.303in RIFLE [/underlined]
[underlined] [which we came to know so know [sic] so very well] [/underlined]
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Following ‘Fall In’, Inspection (usual silent expression of disgust on the part of the Commanding Officer) and ‘Carry On’, our feelings of superiority were instantly deflated by the descent upon us of a new set of newly promoted NCOs. They immediately informed us that our last year’s performance was merely the kindergarten stage, and that we must now set about turning ourselves into real soldiers. Even at the age of thirteen as we now were, to us, the sixteen year old Sergeant appeared to be highly adult, especially as he now had two Annual Camps behind him, in which he had been subject to full Regular Army life and discipline.
However, before we could commence our ‘licking into shape’, we needed to be ‘kitted out’. No old soldier needed to be reminded of that peculiar (in both senses of the work) aroma of the Quartermaster’s Stores, (or in our school, ‘The Armoury’). A mixture of the smells of blanco, webbing, polish on boots, leather, gun oil and above all, uniforms. Well worn and long used heavy serge acquires a lingering scent of mud, rain and sweat, and after prolonged storage in poorly ventilated store rooms, no amount of cleaning, be it the home wash tub or the professional cleaners, can remove it completely.
In spite of the slow beginnings of rearmament, funding at No.3 Platoon level was virtually zero. Our ‘new’ uniforms conceivably many moons ago someone’s Bests, had by the time we were struggling into them, been issued, reissued, worn, patched and washed to the point where it’s khaki was more of a shade than a colour. Its serge had long ago given up the task of retaining a decent crease and defied most attempts at ironing and pressing. Most parents must have been horrified at the garments so proudly brought home later that afternoon. After all, their son, being in the OTC was costing them five whole shillings per term. (Something like £20 in 2006 money!)
For us, the new No.3 Platoon, the afternoon seemed to be spent in being issued with the various bits of uniform and getting them on properly. We were issued with a round service cap bearing the cap badge of the Lincolnshire Regiment. Then a high collared jacket whose brass buttons bore the school emblem. A pair of equally misshaped ‘plus four’ type trousers followed, which had to be held up by a pair of braces. These were fastened by a strap just under the knee. Much to our satisfaction, was the belt, [underlined] complete with Frog. [/underlined] Much less to our subsequent satisfaction was the pair of Puttees. (Magic word from India this time, from.. Hindi ‘patti’ = bandage)
As it’s derivation would indicate, the puttee was a khaki strip some 10cm wide and about two metres long, which would be wound round your carves, starting at the ankle and ending (hopefully) just under the knees on top of the lower end of your trousers, where it is tied with two laces. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? Nothing could be further from the truth. The army puttee is of a standard length intended for six foot plus beefy adults down thirteen year old mini soldiers. The winding of a puttee is both art and science. Having put on your boots, you roll up the puttee into a tight roll, it’s top end in the middle. Two turns are wrapped round the ankle and you start to wind it carefully up the leg, clockwise round the right leg and anticlockwise round the left (and heaven help you if the inspecting officer finds that you have wound both legs round the same way). Now comes the difficult bit. The aim is to end up at the top with two overlapping turns, and the art/science is how to manage the major part of the length in the middle. For a start, each wrap round the leg must advance upwards by [underlined] exactly [/underlined] the same amount. Obviously, the smaller you are, the smaller should be the distance between the lower edges of the wraps. This is a state of perfection which takes weeks to achieve, especially since the next problem is ‘How tight?’. Too tight and your feet freeze ‘cos you have stopped your blood flowing. Too loose, and horror of horrors, following a particularly enthusiastic stamping of the feet, the whole lot unwinds round your feet, bang in the middle of an important parade! It seemed to take the whole of the afternoon (and more practises at home) to get everything sorted out to an acceptable standard on subsequent parades. One final item to complete this initial kit issue – a Button Stick, a wondrous relic of those Brass Button Days. A strip of stiff brass with a slot down the middle, allowed it to be slid under the buttons and Brasso applied without fear of getting black stains on the serge beneath. After further instruction on the care of the uniform (deliberately issued a size or so bigger ‘to allow for growth’), we just about made it in time for the afternoon’s ‘Dismiss’.
As with life in the schoolrooms, the first few parades of the new year were devoted to revision. The school holidays had, as we were once again reminded, allowed us to slip back into sloppy ways. Foot Drill had to be brought back to scratch and theory re-polished, so there was a lot of square bashing and theory revision to be done before we could start on anything new.
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Came the great day when, having completed our afternoon ration of foot drill, we were marched off to the Armoury to collect a rifle apiece. The first impact was, of course it’s weight. Carrying it carefully to a nearby classroom, we began our first lesson – ‘The Naming of Parts’. New to us perhaps, [deleted] by [/deleted] [inserted] BUT [/inserted] not to Kipling and the Indian Army. Like 95% of all previous subjects, the lesson was delivered by one of the senior NCOs, with the usual admonition “Learn these names until you can recite them in your sleep, because when I’m finished, one of you is going to instruct the others and every time I see you lot, someone else is going to have to do the same”
We started at the muzzle and worked down steadily to the butt. We removed the magazine and the bolt and we peered up the bore. We discovered the little flap in the brass plate of the butt to reveal the ‘Pull Through’ with it’s bit of flannelette known as the ‘Four By Two’ and beyond that the brass oil bottle. We examined the Foresight which was fixed (It was years before I gathered that John Galsworthy’s Forsyte Saga had nothing whatsoever to so [sic] with the aiming of a rifle). Then on to the Rear Sight, which was not fixed and had a lot of fiddley bits which we would have to learn to use. The Sergeant then handed each of us five Dummy (D.P.) Rounds which we learned to load into the magazine. Making sure that the muzzles were pointing at the ceiling, we loaded the magazine into the rifle and ‘put one up the spout’. Since these were D.P. Rifles, which had no firing pins, and again making sure our spouts were pointing skywards, we ‘fired’ our first round. Ecstasy!. Loosing off the remaining with gay abandon, we put everything to rights, and with some reluctance, handed them back into the Armoury. We discovered later that these rifles had been formally issued to individuals in No.2 Platoon who were not at all happy that [underlined] their [/underlined] rifles were being used by the ‘rookies’ in No.3.
Having sorted out which end was which, we were now ready to make a start on Arms Drill. Now the Short Lee Enfield Mk.IV or whatever it was (they looked old enough to be Mk.I) was sufficiently long for it’s muzzle to be somewhere around the right ear of some of us when it was standing vertical. It was also heavy enough to seriously threaten the stability of the smaller thirteen year olds if handled too enthusiastically. So, when the day came for us to start, we were stationed sufficiently far apart to ensure mutual safety, and enough NCOs about to assist in individual safety. First, we had to learn new positions of Attention, At Ease and Easy. No great problem and no threat to safety, apart, that is, from someone who managed to drop his rifle. Short lecture on the three grades of army crime – dropping one’s rifle is rated as ‘Major’. The real trouble starts when having had a brisk demonstration of the movement instigated by the command ‘Slope Arms’, accompanied by the shouting of ‘One Stop – Two Stop – Three’ which will become bitten into the souls of all true soldiers, we attempt to do the same. Of course our sixteen year old Sergeant is almost fully grown and from long practice can whip the 8 1/2lb to the first and second movements as if it were mere balsa wood while his body remains virtually motionless. Three years younger and half grown, the 8 1/2lb suddenly becomes 8 1/2kg, requiring major bodily movement to achieve anything like the same effect. Bodies totter and NCOs leap in to restore balance. Miraculously, the rifles are now on our left shoulders but slope in all directions. In the case of an adult, the relative proportions of rifle and body will, given time and practice, achieve a 45 degree slope of the rifle with a horizontal left forearm, with the weight evenly balanced on the shoulder. Unless one is large for one’s age, by No.3 Platoon averages, something has to give if the weight is not to tip the victim backwards. Having more or less straightened us all out, we attempt the ‘Order Arms’ which we achieve without crushing our right toes. We try again with slightly more success. Eventually the lesson ends. Whether it because the Sergeant was satisfied (which perhaps was doubtful) or whether we were exhausted (which was more likely) or indeed, whether one or the other was on the point of tears, which was equally likely.
Subsequent arms drill sessions involved all the normal foot drill movements now with rifles, plus a few extras such as Present Arms, For Inspection Port Arms, Ease Springs, etc. Having more or less mastered these we progressed to Fix Bayonets (“When I says Fix, you don’t Fix, but when I says ‘Bayonets’ you whips ‘em out and you wops ‘em on and you wets a while” (phraseology faithfully passed down from NCO to NCO from pre-Napoleonic days or even earlier). It took months to get it all more or less right and all the time we were being reminded that we were supposed to be in the British Army and not Fred Kano’s (Fred Kano was supposed to be the mythical General of the army of some equally mythical South American Banana Republic state and therefore the most contemptible of military establishments.
The Armistice Day parades came and went with us in full uniform, even if we did have to let No.2 Platoon have their rifles back for the occasion. Our second year in the Corps was aimed at completing our initial training as infantrymen. Background subjects proliferated with field tactics
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playing an increasing part in our training, for this year would be the first in which we could take part in the annual Field Day. Now that we could (more or less) handle a rifle, we had to learn Fire Control and the principles of covering fire and the like. We were presented with posters showing various forms of terrain over which we needed to plan our movements to take advantage of available cover and where to expect enemy fire. The countryside surrounding our school field became suddenly hostile or potentially useful according to whether we were defending or preparing to attack. We now took part in attacks and defensives at both Platoon and Company level which duly impressed this year’s Inspecting Officer, who incidentally, did not appear to be anything like so formidable this year. Maybe it was he was not so formidable, or was it a measure of our growing confidence?
Another annual event which has not been mentioned so far was ‘Founder’s Day’. This was the day when the school opened its gates to all and sundry including fond parents who could see what their little darlings were doing in exchange for their parent’s hard earned school fees. The day would start with a service in the nearby Parish Church in which King Edward, and his merry men, back in the fourteenth century, were praised for their forethought, and other notables including such past pupils as Newton, Lord Burleigh, and Archbishop Wand, were praised for their ghostly presence. After this formality, we trooped back to the school. The OTC in all (or nearly all) their Bests, accompanied by the Band in their Very Bests (Big Drummer in his Tiger Skin etc, [sic]) gave a formidable display of Felling In, being inspected by the Mayor, Foot and Arms Drilling, marching and counter marching, Marching Past and Dismissing all to cries of command ranging from semi bass to semi falsetto.
While the civvies were being suitably diverted, the soldiers suddenly changed into school boys to man impressive displays in school rooms, art rooms, laboratories and workshops.
That out of the way, we prepared for Field Day, No.3 Platoon now qualifying for the first time. In preparation for this we were issued with more kit. This consisted of a haversack which hung from the waist, a backpack which (obviously) went on your back and ammunition pouches which hung down your front, all of which required more in the way of webbing which was fixed to the brass buckle things on the belt that we had spent the last two years assiduously polishing for no apparent reason.
The Field Day was held in the Parklands of a kindly disposed stately home from which his Lordship would observe with interest (and his gamekeepers with apprehension) while the soldiery of six or more local Grammar School OTCs, scared the living daylights out of his wildlife. The various OTCs would be divided into two Brigades, one of which would defend some appropriate strong point while the other attacked. The ground would have been carefully surveyed by the respective Commanding Officers in conjunction with sundry Regulars from Northern Command who would act as umpires for the day, and an approximate battle plan worked out in advance. On the day, the defenders would arrive from one direction and get themselves ‘dug in’ and, suitably camouflaged. Forward ‘O.Ps’ (Observation Posts) would be deployed towards the general direction of the expected attack. Meanwhile, the attackers arrived from another direction, would ‘debus’ and form themselves into something resembling an attack Brigade. Deploying on a wide front, scouting parties would be sent out to probe the enemy’s positions. Much creeping, ducking and crawling, accompanied by soot voce commands would, in due time provoke a volley of blank cartridge fire from one or other of the O.Ps.
Battle was joined. All very confusing at 3 Platoon level, especially as my section’s Corporal managed to get us separated from the main force which resulted in us being declared ‘Wiped Out’, or ‘Captured’ or something before we really got going. Appropriately labelled by an Umpire, we had to sit and listen to the battle raging around us. Those of No.1 Platoon and a few in No.2 who were the proud possessors of Service Rifles had received a ration of blank cartridges and these were being used to most audible effect against an enemy who had apparently been issued with ever more. Very exciting.
The Umpires having inflicted significant casualties on both sides, declared that it was now time for a truce to be declared and emergency rations to be consumed. This was no great help since, although our parents had filled our haversacks with enough emergency rations for several meals, the exertions and the fresh air had caused them to be dipped into long ago and little remained. After lunch, the state of battle had apparently reached the point where the defenders should stage a counter attack. To our delight, another Umpire declared that we had been uncaptured or something and that we could now rejoin the affray. Happily toting our few D.P.SLEs, even if we could not have any blanks to fire, we deployed, worked our bolts, took aim at indicated targets, worked our bolts,
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squeezed our triggers and shouted BANG at the appropriate point. Sometime later we somehow managed to locate a Section of the enemy holed up in an outhouse without them detecting us. We had learned to throw a D.P. Mills Grenade by this time, but these were far too valuable ‘stores’ for them to be carried on manoeuvres. In compensation, we had been issued with a box of matches and a number of ‘penny bangers’. Having discovered that the door to this outhouse had a convenient knot hole which he had used to spy on the occupants, the Corporal lit one and posted it through, to the consternation of those within. The Corporal claimed victory from the observing Umpire.
With some justification, the Umpire ruled that (a) if the Corporal had a Mills Bomb, he would not have been able to post it through the said knot hole, (b) had he opened the door and thrown the banger in, as he would have had to have done had he used a Mills Bomb, his slaughter might have been allowed, but (c) the door had been bolted so he couldn’t have done so anyway. The Umpire then withdrew both us and the ‘enemy’ to a safe distance apart and told us to get on with our war. (It is truly amazing how the memory of such minor incidents remains fresh after so many years when far more important things are lost forever)
However, I think it was about this time that the Head Umpire called for the cessation of hostilities. After much blowing of whistles, shouting and Rendez Vous hand signals, the troops were eventually brought altogether for the Inquest. Unit A was praised for this and Unit B censured for that, but overall the exercise was declared a success (It always was). As for us, we were far too tired and hungry to take much in, and it was a weary mob who ‘embussed’ for the journey home. As was to be expected, someone had lost something, which led to no end of enquiry and recriminations, but in compensation, we had managed to ‘acquire’ several other things of value which was cause for quiet satisfaction and a blind eye.
Field Day over, we settled down to our final term of the year. ‘Settled’ was a misnomer of course. The summer term was always the most hectic term of the year. Masters were desperately trying to complete their curriculum targets. Scholars were desperately trying to make up for lost time and standards and ‘squaddies’ were desperately revising and polishing up their instructional techniques. Behind all this there was an increasing buzz as No.2 Platoon were doing their best to hide their excitement as the time neared for them to go to their first Annual Camp. There was a similar buzz in No.1 Platoon, but this was tempered by the realisation that although it would be their second camp, it would be the last for many.
At No.3 Platoon level, the question of camp was still a matter of biding our time for another year, but that did not remove the feelings of envy. This year it was Northern Command’s turn to stage the Annual Camp, the two thousand or so Senior and Junior OTC cadets would be ‘entertained’ at the big army complex at Strensall in South Yorkshire. Even to those who were unable to go, ‘Strensall’ and 1937 were inseparable. Enviously, during the last week of term, we watched their final kitting up. For some of our NCOs, this would be their swan song. When school opened again in September, not only would we see a new NCO structure with many new stripes on display, the announcement that we had successfully passed all our tests, meant that next year we would be in No.2 Platoon.
We made our final Dismiss of the year, we handed in all our kit. We closed our desks and sang our farewell hymns. We said goodbye to those friends we would not be seeing over the holidays, and went home determined to forget all about school, but not all about the OTC.
For six or seven weeks we were gong [sic] to be civvies, and catch up with the RAF. There was a lot to catch up in 1937. Aircraft which had been mere specifications in the early Thirties, were now coming into service and their successors were well into the prototype and development stages. The biplanes were beginning to go. Sleek monoplanes were increasingly seen.
Much Lincolnshire farmland was being requisitioned for new airfields. New Squadrons were being formed. They might spend a few months ‘working up’ on Hawker Hinds but once their act was together, they converted to single and twin engine replacements. RAF Scampton, just north of Lincoln, reopened and was home briefly to Barnes Wallis’ first geodetic wonderbird, the Vickers Wellesley. It’s long range capability and load capacity was to equip the RAF’s Long Range
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[picture]
Vickers Wellesley
[picture]
Handley Page Hampden
[picture]
ST. VINCENT’S
[picture]
Vickers Wellington
[picture]
Fairey Battle
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Development Flight at Cranwell and in the following year it gained the World’s Long Distance Record for the RAF.
A new Bomber Command Group was formed and established it’s Headquarters in a large house and grounds in Grantham, just down the hill from Spittlegate. Within a few years, tis Group would become a legend and it’s Commanding Officer equally legendary. It’s staff increased and the sons joined the King’s School. ‘5 Group’ and ‘Harris’ entered our vocabularies and the plane spotters reported Handley Page Hampdens and Vickers Wellingtons in the skies to the north.
Things were also changing on the Flying Training scene. Now that the threat from the air was more likely to be from the east, Lincolnshire airfields were needed for combat squadrons.
No2. FTS left RAF Digby for safer skies in the south west and two fighter squadrons moved in. They were originally equipped with biplanes, but these were soon replaced by Hawker Hurricanes. No.3. FTS also left Spittlegate shortly afterwards. Spittlegate became a bomber station. Two bomber squadrons moved in, both working up with Hind biplanes but soon converted to Fairey Battles. More changes of personnel and new faces at school. New aircraft to land in over our hea[underlined]d[/underlined]s up Cold Harbour Lane.
We must have been getting older. The summer holidays appeared to be getting even shorter!
Only days after my fourteenth birthday, so it seemed, we were on countdown to a new school year. Destined for the Lower Fifth, we were also at an age when we were growing up the fastest, and by the time school started again, we would have grown out of last year’s clothes anyway. This was not the only criterion. As members of this year’s No.2 Platoon, we would be getting [underlined] Bests [/underlined] as well as Seconds and we must look as correspondingly smart in our Mufti.
We had no sooner got kitted up and drawn [underlined] our rifles [/underlined] (for this year each rifle was to be the personal responsibility of the person to whom it was issued), and had carried out our first parade of the year, when we learned that changes were in the air. It would seem that the Army was to be equipped at infantry level with the new Bren Gun, a highly accurate, easily manageable machine gun to replace the clumsy, heavy and temperamental Lewis Gun which had been the Army’s lot since WW1. These were to be issued at the rate of three to the platoon. Numbers and dispositions were going to be reorganised into a Platoon of three Sections, each of seven men. Of course it would be years before D.P. Bren Guns would be available at OTC level, but from now on we would ‘go through the motions’ as riflemen.
New Drill and Field Training Manuals would eventually arrive. The principal change in drilling was that the new compact three rank platoon could move off smartly in columns of threes rather than having to go through the ‘Form Fours’ procedure which now became history. (Pity in a way. A good ‘Form Fours’ executed smartly by a well trained squad could be a joy to watch). Other foot drill movements were also affected by this new platoon formation and this all took time to master, both in execution and from an instructional point of view.
Generally speaking, this 1937-38 year followed it’s usual pattern of drill and theory sessions, major ceremonials and new challenges. Increasingly, as No.2 Platoon, we were called upon to instruct even though we were still a long way off from wearing stripes. By now we had well mastered the use of the mnemonic of the day, PODEIR. Called upon to instruct, the first thing we had to do was to carry out our Preliminaries, i.e. collecting any necessary gear, getting the squad into the necessary place for the instruction to begin, and to prepare yourself for the task. Addressing the squad, you needed to clearly state the Objectives of the unit of instruction. “Today you will learn how to clean your rifle correctly’. Next, you need to give a clear Demonstration of what you are proposing to teach the squad. This is then followed by a clear Explanation, repeated often enough for the subject to be thoroughly understood.
[underlined]I[/underlined]nterrogation of the squad is carried out to find out if the subject is indeed thoroughly understood. Repetition of the movement or whatever, on the part of the squad is then carried out enough times to insure that the instruction has ‘stuck’.
The routine was interspersed by a number of small but memorable events. One significant, but not previously introduced member of the instructional team, was the local Territorial Depot Sergeant. As ex Regular, he lived in the Territorial Barracks on the far side of the town, coming down frequently to keep a fatherly eye upon all our doings. As we progressed to higher things, squads from Nos.1 & 2 Platoons, as a pleasant change from field exercises on the school playing field, would march up to
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the Barracks for sundry training activities under his instruction. One of the most popular of these was firing practice on the Territorial’s indoor range. If I remember rightly, a thing called a Morris Tube or some such name, could be inserted into the bore of the standard 0.303in rifle enabling it to fire 0.22in bullets, with quite reasonable accuracy. Thus armed, we could carry out single shot, groups and rapid fire exercises, as well as learning Range Discipline. On other occasions, we carried out Gas Drill.
This was still within living memory of the gas attack horrors of the Great War and we, as a nation were still apprehensive of another war unleashing even more horrible war gases on both the military and civilian populations. The Barracks therefore had a Gas Room, in which we were first of all introduced to synthesised odours of Mustard and Phosgene gases. We would then don and learn to adjust an army style gas mask and sit there while the room was filled with tear gas. As you begin to perspire as a result of the claustrophobic effect of sitting there in a hot stuffy room, the tear gas settling on your sweat, starts to prickle like mad.
At this point the Sergeant yells at you to pull your masks off and clear the room IN AN ORDERLY MANNER1[sic]. Half blinded and choking, we clear the room in a most disorderly manner while the Sergeant reminds us that until that moment we had been sitting in a room full of tear gas with no apparent effect and to emphasise the point, makes us redon our masks and go in for another ten minutes. Not one of our pleasantest exercises.
There was one seldom expressed advantage of marching up to and back from the Territorial Barracks. As may be gathered from the previous commentaries, the King’s School was strictly boys only. On the opposite side of the town, and directly opposite to the Territorial Barracks, was the Girls High School and it’s extensive playing fields. Now the headmistress of this school ran it with an iron hand and was constantly complaining to our headmaster that his boys were making a point of parading past her school in order to fraternise with her pupils. As a result, the road past her school was, in term time strictly out of bounds to any boys who did not have to pass that way. Somehow, to the delight of all but the headmistress and her all female staff, our marches to and from the Barracks, not only had to pass her school and playing fields, but seemed to do so when her darlings were doing their jolly hockey sticks or whatever. Discipline was difficult to maintain on both sides of the fence, and the command “Eyes Front” tended to be ignored.
On an even lighter note, we were once again in the Route Marching season. When we were marching through the town and therefore in the public eye, we would ‘March To Attention’ either to some stirring tune blared out by the buglers, or to the accompaniment of pace taps from one of the side drummers. Once clear of the town, the command would ring out “March At Ease”. After a brief period of semi relaxation, someone would start whistling. Unlike today, everyone seemed to ‘Whistle While They Worked’ or went about their daily life. Of course, from early childhood, we had learned of the sad fate of those unfortunate Green Bottles which had been overcome by the effects of gravity. Also, though we were yet to discover the location of that elusive Meadow which required so many men to mow it and why the first man always had to bring his dog along, we nevertheless sang along regardless. These we soon realised, were excellent marching tunes which could be hummed, whistled or sung aloud with appropriate gusto. We also marched to, whistled and sang about the considerable distance between the centre of London and Tipperary (wherever that was). At our age, it was perhaps debatable whether we should be so enthusiastically singing the praises of the Barley Mow, that establishment’s staff and it’s wide range of barrels containing it’s liquid refreshments. Straying a little nearer the edge, someone might start whistling the tune of Colonel Bogey or one of the more liberal minded officers, the army’s less respectable lyrics could be heard quietly sung by those in Nos.1 & 2 Platoon who had been to Annual Camp where apparently there were few inhibitions on such ribaldry. On the other hand, if the Commanding Officer was striding along at the column’s head there would be an immediate command to “March To Attention” which put a rapid end to such lack of good order and discipline.
Armistice Day, Annual Inspection, and Founder’s Day passed sufficiently routinely to leave no great mark on my memory for the autumn of 1937 to the late spring of 1938, and so did the Field Day for that year. Some of us in No.2 Platoon were able to take Service Rifles, which meant that we could fire blank cartridges. We got involved in black market transactions for ‘gash’ blanks. Apparently, at Annual Camp the Army would dish out far more blank cartridges than the troops were called upon to fire, which meant that the pouches of the said troops arrived back far from empty. It was ‘not done’ to hand these in, and the blanks were smuggled home and hidden away from nosey parents until the next Field Day. Now the usual official issue of blanks was rarely more than ten, but somehow
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enough blanks had mysteriously changed hands, (to some advantage to the vendors thereof), so that when an NCO or an officers [sic] called for say “Five Rounds Rapid Fire” , the resulting volley seemed to go on for far longer than was expected., [sic] even after “Cease Fire” was commanded.
So, inexorably, the Summer Term of 1938 heralded more terminal examinations and OTC Tests and Assessments, but this year it was different. We were fourteen years [underlined] old [/underlined], reasonably competent in Arms Drill, had fired on the indoor range, had experienced two Field Days, passed most if not all our annual tests and assessments and were therefor eligible to go to our first Annual Camp with the ‘veterans’ of No.1 Platoon.
Behind all the anticipatory excitement of going to the Annual Camp was the sobering thought that proud as we would be at also moving up into No.1 Platoon, the height of achievement, the primary objective of life in No.1 Platoon would be the one and only opportunity for most of us to pass our Certificate A. For several months we had been working through and revising all the various aspects of the ‘Cert A’ syllabus, and once we started again in September, it would be the final count down to the actual tests which would take place either just before or just after Christmas. Since a large proportion of these tests had direct reference to the experience we would gain at Camp, that week’s activity was never to be regarded as a fun holiday.
[underlined] The 1938 Tweezledown OTC Camp [/underlined]
Following the previous year’s Northern Command’s camp at Strensall, it was now Southern Command’s turn to host the OTC Annual Camp, and for the good of our souls, it was decided to give us the full Aldershot treatment.
Accordingly, The Chosen assembled in Good Order and Discipline on the southbound platform of Grantham Station on the Saturday morning following the end of school for that year. Kitbags had been issued and were now bulging with Seconds, spare clothing, towels and toilet kits, knife, fork, spoon and mug and items of ‘tuck’ and recreation. We were in our Bests, with boots and buttons gleaming in the sunshine, webbing blancoed to perfection.
Ammunition pouches were empty apart from a few surreptitious ‘extras’ left over from the last Field Day. On the other hand, we all bore full Service Rifles complete with Firing Pins and sharp bayonets (None of your ‘D.P. stuff for this week!). We awaited the arrival of the specially chartered train to take us and other OTC contingents from the north.
When it eventually arrived, somewhat late, our demeanour and composure was somewhat discomposed by the howls, jeers, cheers and catcalls from the contingents already on board. Our Commanding Officers [sic] was not amused, ordered us aboard our specified carriage, delegated the stowage of our kitbags and other spare gear and stalked forward with his other officers with appropriate dignity to the First Class carriages.
We quickly discovered that our carriage was sealed off from the others, no doubt to prevent an outbreak of civil war. We settled down to await developments. As the train gathered speed, we were somewhat surprised to observe yards and yards of paper flying past our windows. An opened window disclosed the reason thereof. In the forward carriage beyond us, two extended arms held a vertically disposed bayonet which had been threaded though [sic] a toilet roll. The slipstream was doing the rest. Any attempt to copy this in our carriage was rapidly quelled. The train approached Peterborough station. Through trains were required to pass though [sic] at ten miles per hour giving platform dwellers opportunity to gaze with some interest at a train full of what appeared to be very young soldiers. The train contents gaze back. Suddenly a volley of rifle fire erupts from one of the carriages to the rear. Amidst screams and shouts, the crowd on the platform scatters. Someone pulls the communication cord and the train screeches to a stop. Officers appear rapidly from the forward carriage, Railway Police appear rapidly from their den. Platform crowd emerges from cover. More shouting and commands. Our train is shunted onto a siding. We await further developments. Whistles, jerks and shunting noises from the rear of the train. Even more behind time now, the train moves off. NCOs work down carriage, carefully searching for and confiscating any further stocks of ‘gash’ blank cartridges. We explore the contents of our haversacks. We never did discover the identity and fate of the contents of the carriage we left behind. their unit was reported as ‘Missing Presumed Lost’ on arrival at Aldershot Station which was reached without further incident.
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We were met by army lorries, manned by Regular Army personnel who made it quite clear that henceforth, everything had to be done ‘at the double’. Our camp was to be held on the Racecourse at Twezledown (or was it ‘Twezeldown’ or even ‘Tweezledown’ or …….) Anyway, there was nothing ‘twee’ about it, as we soon discovered. It was next door to the big Aldershot Army Training Camps, whose staffs were right here to get us sorted. We were tipped out and marched off with kit and kitbags to a bell-tented city of hundreds of tents and marquees. Our homes for the week were allocated, into which our kitbags were dumped. We were told to change into Seconds at the double and fall in outside our tents. Marched off (at the double, of course) to a large marquee filled with straw, we were issued with canvas ‘Palliasse’ covers which we filled with straw. Enthusiasm led to over filling and almost cylindrical objects defied all attempts to lie comfortably for the first night or two. (God help any tent with any discarded whisps of straw decorating the hallowed grass surrounding it) Having disposed of these round the interior of the tent, feet to the middle, we doubled off to another tent to collect blankets and a pillow apiece, only to find upon our return, that a rival unit had obligingly collapsed our tents. Such, we gathered from those for whom this was their second camp, was ‘Army Life’. More confusion as we re-erected them, double secured the guy lines and made our beds up into some semblance of order.
We had of course, consumed our travelling rations within ten miles or so of leaving Grantham so that by now, we were ravenous. However, around this time a bugle sounded ‘Cookhouse’ and we all trooped off to the Mess Tents for a ‘tea’ which just about half filled our aching voids. On our return to our lines, we found our tents in the process of being once again collapsed by a raiding party, the ensuing free fight being quickly subdued by some patrolling VERY LARGE Military Policemen.
Our first day at camp was rounded off by the whole camp falling in to the Main Parade Ground, a last time, we experience the phenomenal parade ground voice of RSM Britten, the Senior Regimental Sergeant Major of the British Army of that era, the terror of all ranks below that of Colonel.
We began to appreciate the true size of the OTC movement as rank upon rank of us were inspected by the Camp Commandant. We were, after all only the top ends of our respective units. That over, we celebrated the lowering of the Union Flag to the sounds of mass buglers sounding the Last Post. A mass March Past and Dismiss gave us the false impression that things were over for the day. Back at our tents, we collapsed onto our ‘beds’ only to be hauled out again for camp experienced NCOs to demonstrate how beds should be made properly and how kit should be disposed of in an orderly manner. Having made up our own beds to their grudging satisfaction, we collapsed again. Ten minutes later, and we were up on our feet again as fatigue duties were handed out and weary bodies were despatched in all directions. After all it was high summer with British Summer Time still giving us much lovely daylight which the Army could put to good use.
Utterly exhausted (so we thought), we were delighted to hear some poor bugler still on duty,play [sic] ‘Lights Out’. Ten minutes later (so it seemed) the damned fool was sounding ‘Reveille’. NCOs were whacking the sides of our tents with swagger canes, bearing another load of Fatigue Duties. Groans of recovery were not mollified by the one P.B.I with a watch announcing that it was only 06.00.
Cookhouse wallahs disappeared in one direction while the remainder were shocked into consciousness by the impact of ice cold water in the washlines. Luckily most of us were too young to need a shave, otherwise this would have been an even greater assault upon the senses
Next came the loose scrum brought about by the next priority of the morning – preparing the tents for kit inspection. Luckily, it had been a fine night so that we were able to learn the mysteries and mayhem of blanket folding and kit layout. What it would have been like if it had been (a) raining or (b) we had been the regulation fifteen to the tent compared with our ten or so, heaven only knows.
Halfway through the morning (the boy with the watch announcing that it was now 07.30), more bugling announced ‘Cookhouse’ and hundreds of aching voids stampeded their way to the Mess Tents. We knew where they were by now. There was no need for NCOs to shout ‘Double up There’.
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Army Porridge, Army Eggs, Army Bacon, Army Bread and Army Butter topped with Army Jam were dolloped, dumped and poured into Army Plates and Mugs, and all these were hopefully washed down with Army Tea. I hoped the Tweezledown worms liked the Army Tea, it took some time to discover where the Army Drinking Water surfaced.
Having gulped that lot down, we dashed back to our tents to don Best Uniforms. In spite of much preparatory brushing and polishing, they were deemed to require further spit and polish before we ere [sic] ready for kit inspection and the morning parade. Of course in our haste, our puttees refused to wind at just the right tension and spacing. Somehow we managed to achieve some measure of perfection before our Commanding Officer made his inspection of our lines. Then out to the Main Parade Ground for the Raising Of the Flag, the Morning Prayers (we hoped He would approve of our turnout even if the General’s Inspection found us wanting)
After this, we dispersed. The events of the day and the days which followed have merged into a blur of memories. Of incessant activity of which the major component seemed to be doubling to mess, marching to parades, doubling to lectures and demonstrations, cookhouse fatigues, fetching and emptying, digging and filling latrines, picket duties, cleaning and polishing kit, guarding our rifles with our lives, foot drill and arms drill, kit inspection and foot inspection, lectures when you could hardly stay awake, day exercises, night exercises and ‘dawn patrols’. Then, when they thought that you still had a little untapped energy left, they took us for Route Marches when we found Aldershot’s Long Valley truly lived up to its name. Learning to obey instantly one minute and being prepared to take command the next. Constantly being reminded that the letters OTC stood for [underlined] Officer’s [/underlined] Training Corps, and that we were there to learn and instruct, to obey and command.
Of course there were the high moments as well as the low. The first ride on a tank and the time you were given the controls of the new Bren Carrier. The rifle ranges where we had or [sic] first experience of firing live 0.303in ammunition at ranges up to 500 yards. The day when they felt we were safe enough to fire a Lewis Machine Gun, terror or ecstasy to a fifeteen [sic] year old. Even firing the murderous Boyes Anti Tank Rifle, a right bastard of a gun which fired a half inch copper bullet with a massive brass cartridge. When fired, it would leap six inches up in the air, drove you the same distance backwards, dislocated your right shoulder if you were not holding it correctly and took two of you to carry it. The morning when we threw our first live Mills Grenade. The calmness of the instructors who hustled us out of the throwing trench when a terrified cadet dropped one at his feet. The same calmness when they went out to place a small charge against one which had failed to explode.
It was only a week, but it felt like a year. The boy with the watch was forbidden to tell us what the time really was. Then, at the final concert on the Friday night, when we were all wished the best of British Luck by the assembled Brass, we suddenly realised it was all over. It had been a week of sheer hell most of the time but we wouldn’t have missed it for a moment. We said goodbye to new friends and promised to write – which we didn’t of course. We promised to come back for next year’s Camp – but we never did.
Of one thing we were quite sure. We had arrived the previous Saturday as mere schoolboys but we would be leaving the following morning as soldiers and furthermore, however old we actually were, we were quite sure now that we were GROWN UP
I vaguely remember getting on the train at Aldershot, but knew nothing until being shaken awake as the train slowed down for Grantham Station. When I staggered in through our front door, my mother was horrified at my appearance. She reckoned that I had lost a stone in weight – maybe she was right. She said afterwards, that I drank a pint of milk without pausing for breath and immediately asked for another, after which I slept for sixteen hours without a break – I don’t remember a thing. When I finally surfaced, my father, the Old Contemptible and P.B.I. of WW1, just looked at me and grinned. [underlined] He [/underlined] knew what we had been through
Uniforms and kit cleaned, repaired and handed in. rifle bore ‘boiled’ and oiled, its bayonet emeried up to its appropriate gleam, both replaced in their place of honour amongst the other Service Rifles in the Armoury and for the remainder of the summer holidays, school and the army could be resolutely ignored in favour of things less earthbound.
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[picture]
Avro Anson
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Airspeed Oxford
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Bristol Blenheim I
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FAIREY BATTLE TRAINER
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[underlined] A [/underlined]
Form [underlined] M.T. [/underlined]
460
Officer Training Corps.
CERTIFICATE “A”
This is to Certify that
Mr. Peter Desmond Stevenson of the King’s School (Grantham) Contingent, Junior Division, Officers Training Corps, has fulfilled the necessary conditions as to efficient service, and has qualified in the Infantry syllabus of examination, as laid down in the Regulations for the Officers Training Corps. He is, therefore, eligible for consideration for a commission in the Supplementary Reserve, Territorial Army, Territorial Army Reserve of Officers or Active Militia of Canada.
On appointment to a commission he will be entitled to the privileges conferred on holders of this Certificate as set forth in the Regulations concerned, and to any further privileges that may be authorised after the date of this Certificate.
In the event of a national emergency involving the mobilization of the Regular Army and the embodiment of the Territorial Army, he is requested to notify his address immediately to the Under Secretary of State, The War Office, S.W.1, with any offer of service he may wish to make.
THE WAR OFFICE,
Date March 1939.
[signature]
Major-General,
Director of Military Training.
95360) Wt.13585/6884 12,000 5/38 A.& E.W.Ltd. Gp.698 J.4202
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As usual, there was much to catch up. Once more things had changed at Spittlegate. In the preceding twelve months, it had been decided to move No.3 FTS to safer skies elsewhere, and for a brief interval RAF Spittlegate became a bomber station. Into this had moved a succession of bomber squadrons which were in the process of converting from Hawker biplanes to Fairey Battles. Amongst these were 106 Squadron which we will meet again in Chapter Nine. Spittlegate had also become the base for the No.5 Group Communications Flight. Around this time, the airfield itself was considerably enlarged.
In spite of its close proximity to No.5 Group H.Q. down the hill, they then decided that the existing airfield, notwithstanding the extension which moved the Cold Harbour Lane over several hundred yards, would never be big enough to accommodate the heavy bombers which would soon be coming into service. So, the bomber squadrons had left, and Spittlegate once more became a training station. Coming into service in the near future would be a new generation of twin engine fighters requiring an intermediate stage of training between the Flying Training Schools (such as No.3 FTS) and the operational squadrons. These were to be called Service Flying Training Schools and Spittlegate was now home to the new No.12 SFTS. Equipped with many Ansons, Oxfords, Blenheims and Battle trainers, the volume of Grantham’s soundscape was now considerable, especially as the old WW1 training field on the adjacent hill top, once again called RAF Harlaxton, became Spittlegate’s satellite airfield. Added to this, the arrival of the new North American Harvard, smote our ears with its raucous, supersonic prop tip scream and its near fighter performance. Things really were hotting up over Grantham. Frustratingly so.
Behind all this had been the Munich Crisis, the build up of the Civil Defence organisation, the issue of gas masks to the civilian population, practices by the ARP and the first wailings of the air raid sirens. The war clouds were gathering and increasingly it was becoming ‘When’ rather than ‘If’.
The summer holidays of 1938 passed quickly and the autumn term started with a new feeling of urgency. For most of us, this would be our last year at school, with the School’s Certificate Examinations the following June our primary scholastic target. More immediately, however, were the Certificate A Tests and Examinations of the autumn term.
Our first parade was naturally, a notable occasion. As expected, we were now this year’s No.1 Platoon, and we ‘battle hardened’ survivors were now permitted a further visible sign of our maturity. When not ‘bearing arms’ and on general duties, we could now sport a ‘Swagger Cane’ whose silver cap bore the School’s emblem. This gave rise to some further drill movements which we were more than a little proud to show off to the other ranks, as well as to the general public as we strode our way to and from parades. There were sundry promotions amongst those who had stayed on from the previous year, but we had to await the outcome of our ‘Cert A’ before we knew where we stood on the promotion ladder.
Frantic swotting, sweating and general revision, endless practices and brushing up of our drill and its instruction brought us up to the fateful day when we began taking the written papers. Then followed grilling from visiting examining officers from the Regular Army on the more practical aspects. After this, there were generalised interviews, which were obviously aimed at assessing our potential as ‘officer material’. The examining officers left with their sheaves of paper and their non-committal expressions. We were left to stew.
A week or two later, the grapevine announced that the results had arrived. On tenterhooks, we paraded the following Thursday afternoon and awaited our fate. (Oh how frustrating to have a surname so far down the alphabet!) Private Stevenson P.D was at length called out to receive the coveted cloth star to be proudly sewn onto his left sleeve. At the same time he was informed that henceforth he would be Lance Corporal Stevenson in charge of one of the Sections in No3. Platoon, the which duty he commenced with alacrity – but it was not to be for long.
For it was not just the Certificate A results which had been exercising the grapevine of late. Shortly after his promotion, he, plus a number of others were called upon to appear before a Selection Board which had nothing whatsoever to do with His Majesty’s Army.
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[underlined] Chapter Three The Public School’s Air Cadet Wing (January to August 1939) [/underlined]
As can be gathered from the previous chapter, the OTC was pretty extensive in numbers and scope. I have very little idea of how the Royal Navy set about convincing the schoolboy population that a worthwhile career awaited them in that Service, apart from the known existence of certain schools to which families with a strong naval tradition usually sent their sons. There were also the Training Ships who took in boys of school age and trained them up in the manner of the Midshipmen of old. All this was of course, very much of a coastal phenomenon, until the later formation of the Sea Cadets. The Army therefore appeared to have, in the inter war period, a virtual monopoly of military involvement with the inland schools, with a declared aim of ‘creaming off’ the best ‘officer types’ according to its needs.
With the phenomenal rise in the size and effectiveness of the Luftwaffe during and after the Spanish Civil War, and its obvious close support of the Wehrmacht, even our War Department began to admit, albeit somewhat reluctantly, that the RAF should have some access to the schoolboys who would be the fighting men of a future conflict. It should be remembered that even in the late 1930s, aircrew were predominantly commissioned ranks and that therefore the RAF were also looking for potential officers.
It was finally agreed that a small proportion of OTC cadets, [underlined] provided that they had already passed their Certificate A, [/underlined] and who expressed a preference for service in the RAF, should be allowed to join a ‘Public School’s Air Cadet Wing’, for appropriate pre-entry training by the RAF. No doubt the Army, having spent some four years bringing these boys up to Cert A standard, felt that there was enough Army Esprit de Corps in their veins to render them immune to the blandishments of the Men in Blue.
Each interested OTC would be allotted a small number of places which, added to a similar quota from the Senior OTCs, not already in the University Air Squadrons (the RAF having penetrated to Universities much more successfully) would not exceed a total of two hundred and fifty nationwide. These cadets would still continue to wear their OTC uniforms and badges of rank but would also wear a brassard of RAF colours bearing an Officer’s forage cap badge of ‘Crown and Wings’.
In the case of the King’s School OTC, the initial allocation of places would be seven, which was later increased to eight. The rumours came to a head when a notice to this effect appeared on the OTC Notice Board, which produced an instant effect. Names were rapidly added, including my own, but I had doubts as to whether I would qualify. The scheme was undoubtedly aimed at aircrew potential, and I already knew that my eyesight was not up to aircrew standard. Luckily, the list was not over subscribed. The school already knew that my sights were set on the RAF, and that my service in the OTC had been aimed at improving my chances. I suppose that may have been responsible for me not being struck off the list of those due to appear before the promised Selection Board. Naturally, all the other hopefuls were sons of serving officers and were obviously aircrew material and therefore stood an excellent chance of being accepted. In spite of my keenness, I was more than a little doubtful of my own chances.
RAF Spittlegate, to which our section would be attached, had apparently received directives from on high, duly convened a Select Board and sent them down to hear our respective cases. In our very Bests, with Cert A Star prominently displayed, we were called in one by one. The others went in and after some time reappeared with non committal expressions and told to wait. I was called in last. Acknowledging my best salute, I was told to sit.
As I fully expected, the first question was, as a result of seeing my glasses, what was my eyesight standard. I explained that it had been my intention to apply for a commission in the RAF Technical Branch for several years now, and they would obviously need at least one Technical Officer to keep the other six in the air. From their reactions, I gathered that they had not quite expected this answer from a khaki clad figure. I went on to explain that my one purpose of serving in the OTC was to improve my chances of acceptance, that aeronautical matters had been my hobby for several years and showed my Membership Card of the Air League Junior Section to prove it.
After looking at each other once more, one of them started asking questions about the Theory of Flight, Aircraft Construction and general questions on current aircraft types which I managed to answer without batting the proverbial eyelid. I got the further impression that they were not expecting
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all this from a khaki clad fifteen year old. After a few more minutes of this, I was told to leave the room as the others had done.
The others were called in one by one and emerged with appropriate grins. Then I followed, wondering what my fate was to be. I was told that in view of the fact that only the requisite number had applied and that I had put forward a good case and was already well informed, they would accept me on the same grounds.
We were all ‘agog’, the following Thursday afternoon when an RAF truck arrived to whisk us up and away to the Spittlegate airfield. Feeling very superior, from now onwards we would be leaving the ‘Footsloggers’ down in the town to do their footslogging while we:
‘Slipped the surly bonds of earth, and danced the skies on laughter silvered wings, *
Dropped off at the Station H.Q., we were ushered into the Adjutant’s Office, given our appropriate passes, signed the Official Secrets Act and were presented with our PSACW Brassards., to be proudly worn below our stripes – we all had at least one. From then onwards, it became increasingly obvious that those upon high had issued orders to the effect that all concerned were to do all they could to make up for lost time.
Almost immediately, we found ourselves in the Crew Room being kitted up with flying suits and helmets, shown how to don a parachute and what to do should the need arise. Paper work included local air maps and the signing of the inevitable ‘blood chit’. Out on the tarmac, we were loaded into a couple of Ansons. The ‘Annie’ was originally a small passenger carrying civil plane which had been developed into a very useful maritime reconnaissance aircraft. It also became an ideal trainer, in which role it was equipped with dual control, had space for navigation and/or radio desks, an air gunners top turret and even a bomb aimer’s position in it’s nose. Not called upon to fly high, it had a greenhouse of a cabin with large windows on all sides and room enough to move around. It was a perfect plane in which to experience one’s first flight in a service aircraft. We trundled out to the [underlined] other [/underlined] side of that fence along Cold Harbour Lane, turned about and took off. An hour or so later, we came whistling in after a glorious run around the local area. We even thought we could see those poor footsloggers down there in the school quadrangle. The ‘Annie’ may have touched down but I doubt if our feet did for several hours.
Every Thursday afternoon from then onwards, we were shown every possible aspect of a Service Flying Training School’s activities. We were given lectures on the Theory of Flight, Airframe and Aeroengine construction, Meteorology. Air Armament, Air Force History and Law, RAF Command Structure, and the functions of Bomber, Fighter, Coastal and Transport Commands. On the Station Range, we fired Lewis and Vickers Air Guns and learned to strip and reassemble them and clear stoppages. We took over the controls of ‘Annies’ in level flight (mind you, ‘Faithful Annie’ could quite happily fly along in level flight without your help when it was ‘trimmed’ properly) and we did our best to avoid crashing the Link Blind Flying Trainer. We learned to set up the dropping sequence on bomb racks and how to use the current types of bomb sights, how to guide the pilot on a ‘bomb run’ on the AML Bombing Trainers as well as acting as plotter on the Camera Obscura Bombing Trainer.
Although each one of us had been utterly converted to the RAF as a possible career even before we had become Public School’s Air Cadet Wingers, we were determined to show our new friends in Blue that we knew our drill and we ‘Brown Jobs’ could outsmart them anytime. We were of course, something of a curiosity with our khaki and our puttees and the fact that however old and mature we might have felt, we were still outwardly and obviously schoolboys, but we were schoolboys who were being given the VIP treatment.
At the time, we were green enough to take much of this for granted. Later on, as the war escalated, it became a source of wonder how this SFTS, already flat out on desperately needed pilot training, had been able and willing to devote so much time and effort upon who must have appeared to be such mere schoolboys. Much as we would have liked to believe that it had been recognition of our obvious keenness, behind it all must have been some pretty powerful directives from someone or something high up in the Air Ministry.
*From ‘High Flight’ – One of WW2’s best known pieces of poetry, penned by a young fighter pilot learning his trade at RAF Digby.
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Meanwhile the clock had steadily ticked on. It was now early 1939 and for us in the Upper Fifth, the School’s Certificate Examinations were only a few months ahead, and for most of us the end of schooldays perhaps only a month or so after that. Swotting, cramming and mock examination papers ruled our existence. To add to our fears and apprehensions, the clouds of war were also looming ever closer, but at our age, the prospect of war was always a challenge rather than an actual fear.
By the early summer, most people realised that time was running out. In addition to the rearmament programme which now flat out with most of the local factories changing over to munitions and other war essential work, there were quiet moves to call up reservists. The Civil Defence organisation was largely in place and more and more people were to be seen with civilian duty gas masks and tin hats with ‘ARP’, ‘AFS’ and ‘W’ on them, slung over their shoulders. Suitable cellars were being taken over and converted into shelters. There were practices when we all had to don our civilian gas masks and leaflets distributed telling us whereabouts in our homes were the safest places to take cover. Other leaflets and notices in the papers and over the radio told us of the availability of the Anderson Shelters which could be half buried in our gardens, covered over with soil and the turf of the previously cherished lawn. For those without gardens, the Morrison Shelter was also available. This was like a large steel table capable of preventing the family, sheltering beneath it, from being crushed by a collapsing house.
In spite of all this, neither we nor the authorities, local or national, had any clear idea of what to expect if war was declared. Thanks to the appeasement tactics at Munich and the months which followed, Czechoslovakia and then Austria had been occupied by the Nazis, more or less peacefully, thanks to little or no local resistance. Now the Nazi Hate Machine was being directed towards Poland, but it was known that the Poles, however hopeless their resistance might be against the German Blitzkrieg, would not go down without a fight to the death. Both Britain and France finally came to realise that a stand must be made sooner rather than later.
What we could do to help Poland was unknown, but if we did go to their aid, then our fate might well be massive air raids against which we appeared to have little or no significant ability to resist, let alone retaliate.
This then, was the atmosphere in which we came to the end of our last peacetime school term.
We sat our exams and awaited results. To the dismay of the footsloggers, the Army preparations for the 1939 Annual OTC Camp first of all ground to a halt and were then cancelled ‘in the interests of safety’. Not only did the War Office feel that it was unwise to divert the resources of the Regular Army at such a critical time, perhaps the idea of hundreds of schoolboys massed together in a tented camp, might be politically explosive if they were subjected to air attack.
[underlined] The 1939 Public Schools Air Cadet Wing Camp at Selsea Bill [/underlined]
No such disappointment was to be felt by those Lucky Few in the Air Cadet Wing. The RAF, not to be outdone by the Army, had made their plans for an ‘Air Camp’ at the end of July, and much to our glee and anticipation, they had no intention of cancelling [underlined] their camp. [/underlined] Furthermore, it was going to be organised on the basis of ‘Whatever the Army can do, the Air Force can do Bigger and Better’
By now, being very seasoned personnel (or that it [sic] how we viewed ourselves) we were told to kit ourselves out and with RAF Rail Warrants, to make our own way to Portsmouth without an accompanying officer to tell what or what not to do. Compared with our previous year’s journey to Aldershot which was initially, a bit of a ‘rag’, this journey was a much more sober affair. The nearer we got to Portsmouth, the more Service uniforms there seemed to be, and the less of a curiosity we seemed to be.
Although we had been given a very sketchy idea of the week’s programme, we had no real idea of what was in store for us. On the way down we had come into contact with other small parties Portsmouth bound and the mutual sense of anticipation heightened. At Portsmouth Station, RAF transport was awaiting us and we and our kitbags were whisked away to a tented camp at Selsea Bill, a stone’s throw away from the Tangmere RAF Fighter Station.
Here we were met by RAF NCOs who took us to our ‘homes’ for the week. We were no more than four to a tent and in place of the straw filled palliasses we had at Twezledown, we had proper
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Supermarine Southampton
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Saro London
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Short Sunderland
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Gloster Gladiator
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Hawker Fury II
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Boulton Paul Defiant
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Handley Page Heyford
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Armstrong Whitworth Whitley
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Next day (Monday), began the ‘real work’. At Tangmere, our Anson fleet was awaiting us and after kitting up again we took off and in loose formation, flew up towards London to land at RAF Northolt which was the H.Q of Fighter Command at the time. We were lectured on the command structure of Fighter Command, the disposition of the Fighter Groups and their Sector control rooms. We saw the Northolt Operations Room in action against a simulated air attack on London. It was to be some time before we realised that some deliberate vagueness on their part was disguising the exact nature of certain ‘information received’ i.e. our early Radar system. We toured the hangars and examined at close quarters an impressive array of Fighter Command’s aircraft. They ranged from the last of the four gun biplanes such as the Gloster Gladiators and Hawker Furies, to the latest eight gun monoplanes, the Hurricanes and Spitfires, together with the ill fated twin seat Boulton and Paul Defiant with it’s four gun turret, upon which much hopes had been placed, only to find them sitting ducks for the Luftwaffe a year later. We swarmed all over, under and into these and had their details pointed out by enthusiastic pilots and ground crews. Taken round to the firing range we saw a Hurricane, with Merlin engine at full throttle, loose off all it’s eight guns at a target which disappeared most impressively in the blink of an eyelid. After a lunch (fully up to the standard which we now came to expect from the Junior Service) we adjourned to the tarmac. Seated en masse, we were given a thrilling display of formation flying, aerobatics and dogfighting. Being so close to London, the RAF had opened it’s doors to the media, including newsreel cameramen. In 1989, when viewing an episode in the TV series ‘Fifty Years Ago This Week’ there was a short item on this Northolt display under some caption such as ‘Future Fighter Pilots?’ unbeknown to the those [sic] in the foreground, the camera had panned over our massed ranks, and there, a few feet in front of the lens was the King’s School contingent. Frustratingly, it was off the air before I could get my video recorder in action.
It was Bomber Command’s turn the following day. Once again our fleet of ‘Faithful Annies’ were waiting at Tangmere to take us up to Upper Heyford, a bomber station on which a similar display was laid on. Again Bomber Command structure, history and traditions were explained in detail and its aircraft lined up for our inspection. There were the last of the biplanes and the new generation of monoplanes. Many of these were the ones we were beginning to see in the skies over Lincolnshire, but this was the first time we could examine them in detail on the ground. More demonstrations and displays on the ground and for a lucky few a flight in a Wellington, Whitley or a Hampden. I missed out on that one.
Impressive, if not so aerobatically [sic] spectacular was the air display which followed, and with that we ‘emplaned’ for our flight back to Tangmere. This was our last flight in our Ansons.
It was road transport the following morning, through Portsmouth to Southampton. Awaiting us there were RAF Air Sea Rescue boats which took us roaring down Southampton Water, past the Imperial Airways passenger flying boat base to Coastal Command’s seaplane and flying boat base at Calshot. Once again, we were given the full treatment on Coastal’s organisation, duties and aircraft, both land and sea based, (including it’s extensive pigeon lofts) by its air and ground crews. We saw seaplanes and flying boats launched and beached, rescues of ditched crews and plenty of opportunity to examine exteriors and interiors. Of course, since this was the main base for the Schneider Trophy seaplane races which had given Britain three successive World Air Speed Records, we had to learn all about how the Supermarine seaplanes designed by Mitchell, the ‘First of the Few’ had led the way to the design of the Spitfire.
Then, to our delight, we were ferried out in RAF launches to waiting flying boats. Some of us went out to the graceful Sunderlands and the rest to big but still graceful biplane boats, mostly Southamptons, and Londons. Once aboard, moorings were cast and we taxied out into Southampton Water. With engines roaring and impressive bow waves to port and starboard, we were ‘up on the step’and away into the Big Blue Yonder. (It was amazing how well our organisers had got the Met Office to lay on a full week of wonderful weather! – with the exception of one thunderstorm later in the week which caused a slight diversion) These stately beasts, cruising along at one hundred knots or less, enabled us to emerge into the gunners cockpits at the front and rear of their hulls, so that we could look vertically downwards a thousand feet onto the shipping coming up and down Southampton Water and the naval shipping in Portsmouth Harbour. We renewed our aerial acquaintance with the Isle of Wight and the Yachting round Cowes, had another look down to our camp at Selsea, but all too soon, we were ordered to sit ourselves amidships while the monster prepared to land.
When we had taken off, the roar of the four engines and the strangeness of the take off, had largely drowned the hiss of water against the hull. Now with engines throttled back, we were unprepared for
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sound of contact with the sea. For a second or two, we thought we had landed on a shingle beach!
The following morning, only too aware that today was Friday and therefore our last day, we piled aboard our transport again for the short hop across Portsmouth to the Fleet Air Arm base at Lee on Solent. This was at the time when the Navy had not quite completely taken over from the RAF, and the day was to be a kaleidoscope of Fleet Air Arm, RAF and Navy uniforms. One was never quite such at any one point who was exactly running our show, but it was quite obvious that although they were in last wicket, they were certainly not going to be outdone by what we had received at the hands of the RAF over the previous days. Furthermore, they proposed making quite sure that their share of we ‘likely lads’ would, in time, come their way.
Our day was spent looking at Swordfish and Walrus aircraft, together with sessions on ancillary equipment such as torpedoes and airborne mines, catapult gear and aircraft carriers. At nearby Gosport we went round the workshops where the ‘tin fish’ were being serviced and tested and saw divers being trained in the Diving Tanks. Then after a naval lunch we were taken out in navy pinnaces into the Solent to watch a demonstration at fairly close hand, of torpedo dropping. All in place, the first demonstration was to be by a Swordfish (the ‘Stringbag’ to us by now). Down it came with appropriate dignity, and its ‘fish’ was duly launched. According to the experts in charge of our boat, the drop was a perfect one, cleanly entering the water and at the end of its run, floated gently up to the surface ready to be retrieved by one of the other pinnaces.
In distinct contrast to the bumbling Swordfish with its biplane wings, rigging wires, fixed undercarriage and open cockpits, a long sleek monoplane shape came into view from the direction of Southampton Water, with its torpedo neatly slung beneath, looking far more menacing. Our commentator told us that what we were about to see was still on the experimental list. The aircraft was the Vickers Wellesley, the Barnes Wallace predecessor of the Wellington which we had met on the Bomber Command day. Obsolete as a bomber, the Fleet Air Arm has hopes that the Wellesley would be a faster, longer range, shore based torpedo bomber to replace or augment the ageing Swordfish.
It came in fast and low, and down dropped its fish. There was an immediate sharp intake of breath on the part of our matelots as it appeared to enter the water at a queer angle. A second or two later it emerged at an even stranger angle and appeared to do its best to bite the tail off the Wellesley, which departed at high speed. Striking the water tail first, clouds of spray masked what appeared to be two half torpedoes which promptly sank to groans from the navy accompanied by comments generally in the line of “What can you expect from having to use RAF pilots” and “I suppose some poor bugger is going to have to go down tomorrow to fish out the bits”
We were hurriedly returned to shore, bade farewell and transported back to camp. We were told to start packing for our journey home the following morning. We had noticed a lot activity [sic] in the direction of our Mess Tent and were told to keep well clear until called for our evening meal. During the week, the meals in the mornings were generally informal, but we had tended to be more circumspect in the evenings (as befitted our maturity!) Tonight, apparently things would be rather special and we were to appear as smartly turned out as possible. Also, we were to consult a seating plan and when called upon to do so, be prepared to move smartly and without fuss to our allotted places and stand to attention behind our seats.
When the call came, we marched to the Mess Tent by units, where were [sic] met by RAF Mess Waiters who conducted us to our seats where we stood carefully At Ease. The transformation of our mess tent was astonishing. It was now an Officer’s Mess. The tables in front of us had spotless linen tablecloths and serviettes. Precisely positioned cutlery and tableware, was even graced by flowers and in addition to tumblers and carafes of water, each place had a wine glass!
When we were all in place, all two hundred or so, we were called to Attention and the most amazing collection of ‘Top Brass’ from all three Services entered in immaculate Mess Uniforms complete with Medals, Orders and other marks of distinction. They took their places at the top table, and at a nod from the senior officer, we were instructed to take our seats. We were then [underlined] served [/underlined] by mess waiters. It began to dawn upon us that not only had our mess tent been converted into an officer’s mess, but that we were also being treated as at least potential officers, as well as being regarded as guests of the RAF despite our khaki uniforms and obvious immaturity.
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Between courses we were addressed by one or other of the senior officers of the Fighter, Bomber and Coastal Commands and the Fleet Air Arm. They hoped we had enjoyed our week and looked forward to us joining their ranks. Each was respectfully if enthusiastically applauded. We certainly had and we certainly would, if and when.
Finally, the senior officer turned to the ‘civvie’ at his side who was obviously the guest of honour, and announced that he wished to introduce ‘Viscount Norwich’. A whisper had already gone round the table as to his identity. He was better known to the general public as Mr. Duff Cooper,
At this time, perhaps the most controversial political figure apart from Winston Churchill, he hated everything that Hitler and the Nazis stood for and had been at the forefront of the rearmament lobby from the early 1930s. At daggers drawn with the pacifists and the appeasers, he had resigned as First Lord of the Admiralty at the time of the Munich Pact. Detested by Chamberlain and his government, he was sidelined with Churchill and branded by the Conservative Press as a ‘War Monger’, but that never stopped him voicing his vociferous opinions on every available occasion..
His address was brief and to the point. After giving us a brief resume of the current political situation and the apparent build up of troops on the Polish frontiers, he launched into an attack on Nazism, finishing with prophetic words on the line of “Gentlemen, within a month we will again be at war with Germany, and this time the survival of Britain will be decided in the air” (He might have been two weeks out with the beginning of the first, but he was dead right a year later about the second, by which time Churchill was back and Duff Cooper became one of Winston’s principal ministers)
Duff Cooper’s speeches were known to be great rabble rousers and he certainly got us to our feet. Whereas the Service officers had been given restrained applause, Duff Cooper sat down to crescendo of cheering and clapping. However, we were all astonished when a chorus of booing came from one quarter. Later, we were to learn that the Oxford University contingent had included a number of members of the ‘Oxford Movement’. This had emerged following a highly controversial debate in the University Debating Society at the time of Munich which passed a motion ‘That this house will not go to war for King and Country’. How and why such opinion had attended this camp would remain a mystery. Maybe they had come ‘just for the lark’, in which case it was a pretty expensive lark for the British Taxpayer.
Order restored, we returned to our tents. It had been a great evening and we were naturally elated, but at the same time we were somewhat subdued. Tomorrow, we would be returning to ‘civvie life’, but we had the feeling that we had heard the last notes of an Overture to War, and most if not all of us would be inextricably drawn into that war. The majority of those who had attended were unquestionably aircrew potential, and in the years that followed, I often wondered how many of them made the ultimate sacrifice.
The following morning, tents empty except for neatly stacked bedding, kitbags full once more, we had our final parade and dismiss, we saluted and thanked our officers. We said good bye to our new friends and wished them good luck. We threw our kitbags into the waiting transport and followed them in. at Portsmouth Station, we ‘entrained’ and all too soon it seemed, our kitbags were upon our shoulders once more as we left Grantham Station, and scattered to our various homes in which it seems, we never stopped talking.
After a week during which we had been treated as officer cadets and responsible adults, it was not easy to drop back into being a mere schoolboy once more, even if it was school holidays. However, following the usual practice of these who had attended Annual Camp, my uniforms would stay at home until the commencement of the new autumn term. These were carefully cleaned, pressed and hung away, but my Air Cadet Wing Brassard, prominently on display on my bedroom shelf, was there to remind me when: “I joined the tumbling mirth of sun split clouds, and did a hundred things you did not dream of” (another quotation from ‘High Flight’). Thinking back then and in the years to follow, I often wondered how much it has all cost and whether the RAF, felt in due time, that they received value from their investment
Incidentally, I have it on record that the camp was visited and inspected by Air Chief Marshall Sir Arthur Longmore. I cannot remember now the time and circumstances of his visit, whether perhaps he was one of the dignitaries on the top table at our farewell dinner or whether his visit was at some
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other time. In view of the significant part he took in the formation of the Grantham Squadron of the Air Defence Cadet Corps (which is recounted in the next chapter) it could well be that he was equally significant in the setting up of the Air Cadet Wing. I hope someday, that an inspection of Air Ministry Records might throw some further light on this.
I lost touch with the others who had gone to Selsea. They were all aircrew material and as the only ‘groundhog’, I could well be the only survivor. I must also go back to the school records sometime and find out who, if any, survived. As for the Public School’s Air Cadet Wing, the Selsea camp was most probably its swan song. It could well have died a natural death with the outbreak of war.
My own future was far from clear. I was still dead set on becoming an engineer and now that war seemed imminent, I would be into the RAF as soon as I was old enough and further qualified to do so. There was a 50/50 chance that I might stay on at school in the Sixth until the time came for call up, in which case I would also stay on in the OTC. In the event neither of these came to pass. Naturally I hoped that I would be able to maintain my contact with No. 12 SFTS at Spittlegate. This did happen, though not through the OTC and the PSACW. When it did, it was in very different circumstances.
As will appear in a following chapter, the declaration of war delayed the opening of school until well into the autumn. Eventually, I decided to leave school and start an engineering apprenticeship, This left my ground clear to join the Air Defence Cadet Corps, now well and thriving as its Grantham Squadron, attached to RAF Spittlegate to which I marched as a humble cadet, rather than being picked up by RAF transport and treated as a privileged guest, but that was no grounds for regret.
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[underlined] Chapter Four – The Formation of the Grantham Squadron of the Air Defence Cadet Corps [/underlined]
(and the appointment of its first Commanding Officer)
August 1939, with my feet firmly on the ground after the Public Schools Air Cadet Wing camp at Selsea Bill, this was for me, a time of indecision. For a great number of my school friends, there was no choice in the matter. They would have to leave school and find a job as did most schoolboys at that time. My closest friends were all sons of RAF officers and would all go on to the Sixth Form and on to higher thinks, but what was I to do?
By now, I was equally determined to become an engineer and if possible to combine this with a career in the RAF as an Engineering Officer. The international situation had now moved firmly from the ‘If’ and ‘When ‘state into the ‘How Soon’ and as August progressed, war seemed to be matter of sooner rather than later. There was no question of me trying to join up immediately – there were far too many records about me, civil and military to show that I was only just about to celebrate my sixteenth birthday. ‘Call Up’ would be a good two years ahead and the war, if it was declared, could well have been decided, one way or the other long before that. In the end it seemed to be the best policy to sit tight and await developments. It would undoubtedly stretch our family resource4s for my parents to grubstake for another year or so in the Sixth Form. In the meantime, until the immediate future seemed a little clearer, when at the beginning of the new school year in September, I would be staying on at school.
What eventually did happen, I will hold over to the next chapter, for what I want to do now is to turn back the clock six months or so, or for that matter even back to the first decade of the 20th century..
There can be very few people around who have not heard of the epic first flight of a powered aircraft by the Wright brothers. Of course there had been nearly a century of unsuccessful attempts before that and people like Lillienthal were becoming quite proficient at building and flying man carrying gliders and box kites as well as the well established mania for constructing and flying lighter than air craft. The man in the street was becoming well aware of the fact that the air was the next great adventure.
To encourage ‘air mindedness’ not only in the mind of the man in the street but also in the minds of influential policy makers and financiers, the year 1908 saw the formation of the Air League of the British Empire. Throughout the First World War and increasingly in the post war years, the Air League campaigned vigorously for Britain to take the lead in all aspects of aeronautics. They supported the ‘air circuses’ like Alan Cobham, the legendary Hendon Air Displays, the RAF Station Open Days, and the later Empire Air Days, all at a time when the disarmament lobby was doing its best to persuade the Government to reduce all the armed forces to a state of impotence.
As already mentioned, in the mid 1930s the Air League formed a Junior Section aimed at giving the maximum encouragement to Britain’s youth. Amongst its various publications one now learned that the Air League was proposing to form an Air Cadet Corps.
News of the setting up of an organisational structure and appointment of senior officers, the design of an appropriate uniform and training programmes, was followed by the announcement that the first Squadrons of the ‘Air Defence Cadet Corps’ had been formed in the London area, to be followed by the formation of other squadrons in the Home Counties. Was there any chance that an ADCC squadron might be formed in a little town like Grantham, and if it were, would I be able to join it?
I think I need to break off at this point and name a few names who will become significant later. Anyone who knows anything of the history of the RAF will know that Air Marshall Lord Hugh Trenchard will forever be remembered as the ‘Father of the RAF’. In the post WW1 years, he collected round him a number of young officers, some of whom had fighting experience in the latter years of the war and had served with some distinction in the course of the RAF’s involvement in the policing of the troublesome territories which had become Britain’s responsibility in the 1920s and 1930s. By the time the clouds of war were again gathering in the 1930s, many of these officers were occupying high rank in the various commands of the RAF both at home and abroad. Others, equally distinguished, had reached retirement age but had not retired from public duty.
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[photograph]
[underlined] AIR CHIEF MARSHALL SIR ARTHUR LONGMORE [/underlined]
Sir Arthur Longmore was arguably the most influential of the ‘Founding Fathers’ of the Grantham Squadron of the Air Defence Cadet Corps in 1939, which in 1941 became No.47(F) Squadron of the Air Training Corps, the only ‘Founder’ Squadron on Lincolnshire
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One of the latter was Marshal of the Royal Air Force Sir John Salmond who had been appointed Commandant and Chief Executive of the infant Air Defence Cadet Corps. One of the other officers still in active service was Air Chief Marshall Sir Arthur Longmore. Amongst the many ‘cornerstones’ of the early RAF attributable to Lord Trenchard was the setting up of the RAF College at Cranwell and the College’s third Commandant was Arthur Longmore, who on his appointment took up residence in Grantham where he and his wife quickly became involved in Grantham affairs. However by 1938, Sir Arthur Longmore was O.i/c RAF Middle East but that did not prevent him, when on leave, from continuing to interest himself in the wellbeing of Grantham, and when he was not at home, Lady Longmore was just as dedicated.
I now need to introduce another name who was crucial to the formation of the Grantham ADCC Squadron. Stanley Foster was a successful Grantham businessman, young and active and much involved with Grantham affairs. He was soon elected to the Grantham Town Council and in the 1938 to 1939 Mayoral Year was elected Mayor. Over the years he undoubtedly had much contact with the Longmores, and it would appear that Sir Arthur, well aware of the activities of his erstwhile service colleague who was now Commandant of the ADCC, had suggested to Stan Foster that the possible formation of a Cadet Squadron would be a desirable thing for the youth of Grantham.
Today, the Air Training Corps is very much a part of the RAF and as such it is almost completely funded from the RAF budget, but the Air Defence Cadet Corps before it became the ATC in 1941, was entirely a voluntary organisation. True, almost immediately a squadron was formed, the local RAF gave considerable material help, but a new squadron depended almost entirely upon local sponsorship, donations, subscriptions and fundraising to pay for rental and maintenance of its headquarters, administration, provision of uniforms and other running expenses. It was vital therefore that a well publicised inaugural meeting needed to be held to drum up a considerable level of local support. With this in mind, the Grantham Journal reported in its 7th January 1939 edition that such a meeting was to be held on the following Monday, and for those interested, an ADCC uniform would be on display in the Grantham Gas Company’s showroom.
And so it came to pass, as the saying goes, that on the 10th of January 1939 an inaugural meeting was held in Grantham’s Guildhall, and the Grantham Journal on the following Friday gave a lengthy report on its proceedings. Upon the stage in front of considerable audience of local celebrities, townsfolk and would be recruits, sat an impressive array of ‘top brass’. Centre stage was Stan Foster in full Mayoral Insignia and flanking him was Sir Arthur and Lady Longmore, who in their turn had brought along Sir John Salmond, Commandant and Captain Hazelwood, Area Organiser of the ADCC
In turn each spoke of the desirability of forming a Cadet Squadron and gave an outline of its likely aims and aspirations, whereupon the Chair called for a show of hands to approve the proposed formation. (Carried Unanimously). Next Stan Foster called for generous financial support and within a short time £89 was promised (quite a lot of money in those days) enough to get things moving.
The next item on the agenda was the appointment of Squadron Officers and it is at this point that i [sic] must again break off the narrative to record my own personal involvement in this meeting and that of my father. At the time of this meeting I was still in the King’s School OTC. although nominally I was still a ‘P.B. Infantryman’, I had already been seconded to the Public School’s Air Cadet Wing section. Also it was also in my penultimate term before sitting my School’s Certificate/Matriculations examinations. In spite of this I was determined to attend the meeting whether or not I would be allowed to join. However, my hands would be firmly handcuffed in a manner of speaking.
Recently, we had had a change of Headmasters, in place of the previous somewhat liberally minded head, we now had a rather straightlaced, rather narrow minded, disciplinarian who was determined to uphold the King’s Grammar School image. In spite of the fact that the majority of his pupils were sons of ordinary town and country folk, he did his best to establish a ‘Town and Gown’ separation of the activities within the school and those of the world outside. As we have seen it was usual and expected that at the age of twelve the ‘normal’ pupil would join the OTC. However, if a given pupil’s parents objected to the ‘militarisation’ of their son, he was allowed to opt out and join the ‘gardening brigade’ on Thursday afternoons, but they were nevertheless considered ‘second class citizens’. Out of school, a boy might join the Scouts but this again was somewhat discouraged.
When the idea of the formation of the Air Cadet squadron was mooted, he came down with a firm edict – no King’s School pupil was permitted to join the ADCC if he was already in the OTC. This effectively tied one of my hands!
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[photograph]
COUNCILLOR S. FOSTER
Mayor-Elect of Grantham, 1938-9
Councillor ‘Stan’ was one of the most popular and enthusiastic Mayors of Grantham in the 1930s and 1940s, and it was during his time as Mayor in 1938 that he was instrumental in the staging of the inaugural meeting in the January of that year which led to the formation of the Grantham Squadron of the Air Defence Cadet Corps. He not only chaired that meeting, became an enthusiastic member of it’s subsequently appoined [sic] steering committee but also ensured that the Squadron enjoyed the full support of the Borough Council. Accordingly he has every right to be regarded as one of our principal ‘Founding Fathers’.
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My father’s outlook was equally firm. For a number of years matters aeronautical had tended to occupy a higher priority for me than my schooling, in spite of a sudden new found determination to catch up lost ground, I still had a lot of lost ground to catch up. My father’s foot went down firmly – “Your Matric Exams are coming up in a few month’s time and you are already in the Public Schools Air Cadet Wing. No way will you be allowed to join anything else. Subject closed!”
“But I still want to go to the meeting to find out what it is all about”
“All right then, but only if I go along with you to make sure that you don’t do anything silly and get yourself signed up” – And so we both went!
In view of what was to happen next, it would be appropriate to outline my father’s previous history. Philip Stevenson was born in Grantham in 1895 and was educated at the Sedgebrook Grammar School which later merged with the King’s School. After leaving school he spent a year or so as a cub reporter with his father who was a journalist and branch manager of the Nottingham Guardian Group. Aged nineteen at the outbreak of the Great War in August 1914, following the patriotic fervour of the time, he immediately volunteered for the Army, eventually joining the Seaforth Highlanders. After infantry training in Scotland, his Battalion was sent over to France where he took part in the battles during the retreat from Mons during which he was slightly wounded and received his first ‘Mentioned in Dispatches’. Returning to the Front he survived the various skirmishes during the winter of 1914/15, but when the Spring offensives flared up, he was seriously wounded in the battle of Neuve Chappelle. Invalided home with a further ‘Mention in Despatches’, the award of the Meritorious Service Medal and the Mons Star, he spent the next eighteen months in various military and convalescent hospitals in the Harrogate area. Assigned to light duties he was seconded to the Headquarters Staff of the Ripon Reserve Training Establishment, one of the largest Army training setups in the country at the time, responsible for the infantry training of some twenty six thousand recruits per annum. There he quickly made his mark, was promoted Sergeant and became Personal Assistant to the Commanding Officer.
Demobbed, all the ‘Land Fit for Heroes’ could offer him by way of a job was clerk to the Grantham Borough Police Force which in the 1920s boasted a Chief Constable, two Sergeants and ten constables to provide a 24/365 service for the good people of Grantham! A dead end job, he stuck this for several years but by 1927, married with a young son, he decided to try for a better life in the United States. However before he could bring his family over to join him, all his available capital was lost in the Wall Street crash and it took him nearly a year to save enough money to pay for his ticket home. When he eventually arrived back in Grantham, he did have something in his favour. In the States he had become a quite proficient ‘hard sell’ car salesman and it was not long before he managed to get a job as salesman to the local Ford dealer. In spite of the deepening depression of the early 1930s, he was able to make quite a few successful ‘sells’, particularly to the local RAF personnel (who seemed to be the only sector of the community with money to spend on cars!) During the course of these negotiations he got to know quite a few of the RAF officers at RAF Spittlegate/Grantham, the new No.5 Bomber Group Headquarters and at RAF Cranwell. Significantly, these included Sir Arthur Longmore who, succumbing to Philip Stevenson’s powers of persuasion, ‘bought Ford’, and it would appear that during sundry conversations, Sir Arthur learned quite a bit about Philip Stevenson’s past military history and experience.
So, back to the inaugural meeting and the point in the agenda where officers for the new cadet unit were to be appointed. Obviously the first of these would have to be a Commanding Officer. Before anyone else could start to nominate somebody, Sir Arthur, pointing to my father said “Mr Stevenson is our obvious choice. He has all the necessary military administrative experience we need”. (Or words to that effect – this was nearly seventy years ago). Point taken. Carried unanimously. Signs of embarrassment on the part of my father but, since I had noticed that as the previous proceedings had obviously aroused in him more than a little interest, he accepted his nomination with creditable alacrity.
Further nominations and volunteering filled the remaining vacancies for Adjutant and the four flight commanders which our possible cadet roll could justify, and the final item on the agenda was the enrolment of recruits. The audience certainly contained a high proportion of hopefuls and these formed an orderly if excited queue at the desk set aside for the purpose. Prominent amongst these was the first cadet already in uniform. For the purpose of the meeting, the uniform which had been on display in the town had been adorning the body of Tony Teague, who I suppose can be considered as Grantham’s first ADCC cadet.
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As the Grantham Journal reported the following Friday, the evening’s activities resulted in the initial recruitment of 45 cadets. The new squadron’s strength might now be six officers and forty five cadets amongst whom would be found Mr. P.P.L. Stevenson – Commanding Officer, but sadly and frustratingly, not Peter D. Stevenson amongst the enlisted recruits.
My father and I had much talk about on the way home and over the next few days.
The Grantham Journal really took us to heart and practically every issue from the [sic] on contained news of the increasing tempo of the new squadron’s activities. In the January 14th edition they not only reported at length the inaugural meeting but also included a picture of Sir John Salmond, Sir Arthur and Lady Longmore, and Stan Foster. The following week they reported that the subscription list had doubled to £167. On the 28th January there was a report on a meeting at Elsham House, the Longmore’s home, during which a support committee was formed, Messrs Stevenson and Ruxton were officially appointed Commanding Officer and Adjutant respectively.
On the 4th February it was reported that ADCC Headquarters had officially confirmed the setting up of the Grantham Squadron and the official appointment of Cadet Squadron Leader P.P.L. Stevenson as Commanding Officer, Cadet Flight Lieutenants A. Chapman, F.F. Hall, I.G. Smith and G. Widdowson as Flight Commanders. It was also reported that a Headquarters building had been secured. (This was the Victorian town house building on St. Peters Hill next door to the General Post Office which was to be the home of the Grantham Squadron throughout the war years. It had been unoccupied for a number of years and had the advantage of having a useful number of large and small rooms as well as the remains of a large walled garden which, when cleared, made a useful Parade Ground)
On February 11th, the Journal reported that the Squadron had been officially affiliated to No.12 SFTS at RAF Spittlegate. The 25th February edition published a photograph of recruits being medically examined, and that 48 cadets had now been accepted and fully enrolled. The first batch of uniforms had been ordered, the first lectures had taken place, and a first party of cadets had visited No.12 STFS at Spittlegate.
I am not sure now at what point in time another very important personage joined the ranks of the new squadron. Fred Dawson was an ex-Coldstream Guards Sergeant who had a most impressive list of accomplishments of value to our Squadron. In addition to being an excellent drill instructor, he had in his time been a Physical Training Instructor, Army Boxing Champion and coach, a Black Belt Judo Instructor, a born leader with a genuine interest in bringing out the best in boys. For all that, he was not exactly the easiest person to get on with and had a short fuse when it came to suffering fools gladly. Anyway, he very soon made his presence felt, instructing cadets and officers alike in the niceties of foot drill and soon sorted out a short list of cadets who were potential N.C.O. material. Originally titled ‘Sergeant Major’ in the A.D.C.C. days, he became Cadet Warrant Officer when the A.D.C.C. became the Air Training Corps in 1941. Following the age old traditions of Sergeant Majors and Warrant Officers, he soon took upon himself the aura and responsibility of the second most important person after the Commanding Officer (with whom he reserved the right to disagree forcibly if he felt the circumstances warranted). He served with the Squadron until 1943 when he got at cross purposes with the C.O. over something or other, whereupon he thumped in his resignation. However, when the war ended and the Squadron had a new C.O., he once again became ‘S.W.O.’ for a further spell of duty.
On April 22nd 1939, the first picture of the cadets in uniform was published together with one showing the complete squadron on parade on the Grantham Cricket Ground.
By this time, the Squadron had be [sic] officially numbered No.47. At A.D.C.C. Headquarters back in 1938 had decided that all the Squadrons which had come into being in that year would be designated ‘Founder’ Squadrons. In the event, the number of squadrons which had actually been formed before the year’s end just fell short of the magic number ‘50’, so the powers that be relented and awarded coveted (F) to the first fifty, and Grantham at No.47 just scraped in and to this day proudly calls itself No.47(F) – the only (F) Squadron in Lincolnshire.
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The Squadron was now well up and running and all through that last summer before the outbreak of war, squadron progress and achievements was steady and noteworthy.
On June 3rd, the Squadron proudly presented itself in Ceremonial Order for inspection by Sir Arthur Longmore. ‘Father of the Squadron’, no doubt having been kept fully informed by Lady Longmore who had worked tirelessly in the background supporting and encouraging ‘her’ squadron!
Regrettably however I was, during these formative months a watcher from the wings. However at least I had the Commanding Officer across the dinner table who was able to give me a daily running commentary on the way things were shaping up. of course I was as jealous as hell, not being able to join in with all the ‘fun and games’, but my father, with his Commanding Officer’s hat on, was quite adamant that I would not be able to take part in any way in Squadron activities until I was entirely free to join as a normally recruited and enrolled cadet. That of course could not be until I had left school, the O.T.C. (and the Public School’s Air Cadet Wing and passed my terminal examinations – he had a point!
So far as the Squadron was concerned, perhaps the high point of that summer’s activity was when a small and favoured group of cadets went over to Great Hucklow in Derbyshire a [sic] had a week’s gliding camp. Naturally I envied them greatly but was more than compensated by the stupendous time I was having at the same time at the Selsea Bill camp.
It is all a long time ago now and any of those teenage cadets who may be still alive today, are now in their eighties! My great hope is that one day I can locate one of those first A.D.C.C. Cadets who can still remember those early days and fill in the gaps in my narrative.
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[underlined] THE HEADQUARTERS OF No.47(F) Sq. ADCC/ATC on St. Peter’s Hill, Grantham [/underlined]
[photograph]
[underlined] GRANTHAM BOROUGH COAT OF ARMS [/underlined]
[underlined] AIR LEAGUE OF THE BRITISH EMPIRE MOTIF [/underlined]
[picture]
[underlined] THE CAR STICKER I DESIGNED FOR THE 1939 ADCC FUND RAISING CAMPAIGN [/underlined]
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[underlined] Chapter Five – ARP Messenger P.D. Stevenson. ‘Goes to War’ [/underlined]
Several times in previous chapters I have referred to the ‘Phoney War’, that period from the declaration of war by the Allies on September 3rd 1939 and the Spring of 1940 when the ‘Hot War’ started with the invasion of Norway, Denmark, Holland, Belgium and France by the Nazis. How did this affect us down at ground level in Grantham?
Through the dark days of 1938 and early 1939, against a programme of appeasement on our side, Hitler had progressively occupied country after country without serious opposition by means of apparently overwhelming strength of arms. Then, in August 1939, he invaded Poland and for the first time came up against real and fanatically dedicated opposition, in spite of the relative weakness of the Polish Army and Air Force.
Propaganda films from Germany had got us used to seeing superbly equipped and disciplined German troops goosestepping into whichever country he chose. Now we saw in the newsreel and newspaper stills, these troops in action, backed up by dive bombing and ground strafing by the Luftwaffe, and began to realise what ‘Blitzkrieg’ really meant in practice. We saw what the cost was to the Poles, but what we did not know, was the price paid by the Germans.
Many, if not most people in Britain honestly believed that this ‘Blitzkrieg’ would be immediately called down upon us as soon as we declared war in honour of our recent pact with Poland. We felt we had good reason to be worried in Grantham. For a start, it was an important communications centre. The A1 passed right through the centre of the town and at one point it was so narrow that a single bomb could block it completely. At three other points it passed over or under the main east coast railway line and again at these points, a single bomb could block both lines of communication. It was also a principal junction point in the rail network with important branch lines to the east, north and west.
At that time Grantham also had a considerable military significance. Spittlegate Airfield, a mere mile or so from the centre of the town had been an important air base since WW1. It was now the hope of an important flying training school, operating round the clock to train up pilots for future combat and it has a satellite airfield a mile or so away on the opposite hilltop, also flying round the clock. In 1936, a large house and grounds in the south east of the town had become the headquarters of Bomber Command’s No.5 Group which was to become a legend in the bomber offensives later on in the war. All these facts, we felt sure, were well known to the Luftwaffe.
Grantham was still a very important heavy engineering industrial town with a considerable potential for the production of war material to which it had been rapidly changing over the past year or so. The main factories were largely concentrated in the south of the town and were surrounded by large concentrations of their workers houses.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, a very modern highly equipped factory ‘British Manufacturing and Research Co. Ltd’ (BMARC) or ‘Marcos’ to the locals) had been built to mass produce the Hispanio Suiza 20mm aircraft cannon and it’s ammunition. At this time this was the only cannon factory in the U.K. and would be forever famous for it’s part in the forthcoming Battle of Britain and the subsequent air battles.
Therefore, we were quite sure that Grantham, as a primary strategic target, would receive early attention from the Luftwaffe, and although it did not do so the day war broke out, we did not think that we would have long to wait.
Now that the subject of air raids has been introduced, it might be well to digress a little onto the subject of air raid warnings, since these were to intrude so frequently into both our public and private lives.
In those very early and rudimentary days of Radar, then known as ‘R.D.F.’ or ‘Radio Direction Finding’, a chain of large signals stations along the east and south coasts were set up, each with four huge aerial pylons and associated buildings. One of these pylons still stands at Stenigot on the top of the Lincolnshire Wolds.
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These ‘Chain Home’ stations could relay back warnings of the approach of enemy aircraft to the Fighter Command Group Headquarters who in turn would alert the ARP organisations in the threatened areas. These radar stations could only face out to sea and could not detect aircraft which had passed behind them. The responsibility of keeping a track on them now passed on to the Royal Observers Corps who would similarly keep Fighter Command, and thus the ARP, fully informed.
From the Munich Crisis in 1938 onwards, Civil Defence had been progressively stepped up. starting with the hopefully reassuring issue of gas masks to the setting up of Wardens, Casualty and Rescue, Demolition, Gas Detection and Decontamination, Evacuation, Emergency Shelter and Feeding organisations and teams, ARP had moved on in the last months of peace to the sandbagging of key buildings and the provision of public air raid shelters. The general public were also encouraged to build their own shelters. Many thousands of kits to build the earth covered Anderson Shelters (which could be built in one’s back garden) or the steel table like Morrison Shelters which could replace the dining table indoors if one did not have a suitable garden area.
With the approach of war, the ‘soundscape’ of Grantham had also changed significantly. The starting and stopping times of the shift workers in the various factories had for more than a century, been announced by a great variety of steam or compressed air whistles, horns, hooters and even the occasional bell. (If we were temporarily transmitted back to the Nineteen Thirties, we might well be astonished at the amount of whistling and hooting which went on at certain times of the day!) It might also be remembered that the Great Depression was but a few years back and that in spite of the urgent rearmament programme, we had not yet reached full employment. The shop foreman’s authority was still absolute and he could sack you on the sport [sic] if you were a few minute’s late more than once a week. If you were a factory worker, your life was indeed ruled by the factory’s hooter. For the matter, most of the townsfolk measured the passing of the day by the hearing of the various hooters rather than looking at the Town Hall Clock or looking at your pocket watch.
As Grantham geared up for war, these were all ‘grounded for the duration’ so far as the workers were concerned. ‘Marcos’ had been the first and only factory to have installed a ‘new fangled’ American style electric siren, which is now forever remembered as the wartime ‘Wailing Willie’. Until such time as others were installed elsewhere in the town, this would be our first warning that enemy aircraft had been detected crossing the coast. This ‘General Alert’ state would exist until the Observer Corps reported that the enemy were now within twenty five miles of the town. Then one of the steam hooters in one of the factories would sound off a number of blasts. This was the signal for all and sundry to drop everything and dive for the shelters. These blasts were promptly christened ‘The Pips’ and for the next few years would rule our lives also. So much so that at the end of the war, all factory hooters and sirens were banished from our lives and only the sirens were retained as flood warnings and other civil emergencies.
All this and other ARP procedures had been exercised on quite a number of occasions before war was declared, as well as preparations for a total ‘Blackout’. On that fateful day of Saturday 3th, all street lights and other exterior lighting was extinguished until the threat of air raids ended nearly five years later. Millions of yards of black cloth blackout curtaining had been issued or purchased and blackout screens constructed, so that no chink of light could aid the marauding bomber crews. All car, lorry, bus and even cycle lights had to be fitted with hoods so that the light could not be seen above waist level. If you had a torch, then it could only be shone downwards and the Warden came down on you with a ton of bricks if you lit a cigarette or pipe without a shaded match!
A somewhat lengthy digression perhaps, but appropriate to what is to follow for now we come to that fateful day. One of the corner stones of my career as an engineer was undoubtedly Edward Elms. He had been the head of army apprentice training in WW1 and in the 1920s, during which time he had been Commissioned and had attained the rank of Captain before returning to ‘civvy street’. In the mid 1930s he had joined the teaching staff of the King’s School. Up to that time the Kings had been a typical Grammar School accepting the need to teach Physics and Chemistry and, for the less technical, Biology. Reluctant acknowledging the fact that the majority of it’s pupils would never go on to University and that most likely a goodly proportion of them would go into the town’s industries, it had been decided upon high that the school would break from tradition and build a build a craft workshop in which the (regrettably) technically minded amongst it’s boys could learn the rudiments of wood and metal working and technical drawing.
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Though he was officially referred to as ‘Captain Elms’, having a head of dead white hair, to us he was always ‘Snowy’. He was always a strict disciplinarian while on duty and could have a short fuse at times, but he soon became a hero to those who worked in well with him and measured up to his high standards of workmanship. By 1939 I was his willing slave and allowed great freedom of action in his workshop. As the most practically minded of the masters, he soon became ‘Mr. Fixit’ and we did many extra curricular jobs together. It was not surprising therefore that when Snowy stated that he had bought a set of Anderson Shelter bits and pieces, we were both to be found in his back garden creating havoc on his cherished lawn. We had reached the point where the appropriately shaped hole had been dug, the soil stacked nearby and a start made on the assembly of the corrugated iron pieces, when Mrs. Elms came out to say that Mr. Chamberlain was to [sic] about to make an important announcement on the ‘wireless’. We listened in silence as he made that now famous speech which ended with the fateful words “….and it is my duty to say to you, that a state of war now exists between Great Britain and Germany”. Snowy broke the ensuing silence with “I suppose we had better get it finished”, so back we went into the garden.
We had not been working long before Mrs. Elms came out again to say that her father was on the line and wanted him urgently. Now, it might be said that Snowy’s wife happened to be the daughter of the District Council’s Director of Education. Be that as it may, the fact was that the said Director of Education was also now something high up in the Civil Defence for the area. It would now appear that the Civil Defence people had realised that if the Luftwaffe decided to have a go at Grantham’s industries, the main telephone exchange was well in the line of fire. If it got knocked out of action, communication would be lost between the Civil Defence Headquarters and the various ARP Posts around the town.
The gist of the message was, could Snowy organise ASAP a corps of ‘likely lads’ to act as ARP Messengers who could carry essential messages through Hell and High Water if the phones went dead. He came out into the garden with an urgent expression on his face.
“Drop everything” (or words to that effect) “Get on your bike and find as many boys over sixteen as you can and tell them to report to me. While you are doing that, I will find out how many the HQ and the Posts want messengers. As the boys come in, I will allocate them and arrange for the necessary kit. Oh, and by the way, you are Number One”
There followed a hectic day. I was able to contact a number of erstwhile Fifth Formers who were either waiting for the school to reopen or, having left, had not yet started work. In addition, I was able to contact a number of ADCC Cadets who were over sixteen and would be willing to ‘work nights’ as ARP Messengers. Suffice it to say that by nightfall, we had a messenger in each of the ARP posts and several at the ARP Headquarters, and in the days which followed, we were able to recruit enough to give each Messenger ‘three nights on and one night off’. All that remained was to wait for the action to begin.
We found that a goodly proportion of the ARP Posts were situated either in the outbuildings of pubs or not far away from one (Surprise, surprise!). I was not all that pleased to find that Snowy had allocated me to the Post nearest to his home and that too was in the back building of a pub. In compensation though, Messengers were to be paid, not a great amount, but better than what I got when I started as an engineering apprentice a month or two later.
Although later we were to have armbands and tin hats with ‘M’ upon them, that first night we would have no distinguishing marks, so it was decided that where we had a uniform, we should wear it. At nightfall I made my way across town and up the hill to my allotted post wearing my OTC uniform but now equipped with a tin hat and a civilian duty gas mask, basic rations for the night and feeling very official and ready for the worst. Having reported to the Head Warden of this particular post, an outbuilding more or less unrecognisable under hundreds of sandbags, I was given a quick tour of it’s layout and equipment. Warden’s gear, gas detection and decontamination, search, rescue and demolition gear, first aid gear, stretchers, blackout and gas screens and bunks for those who were not outside on duty.
Following this was a load of information on the organisation of the ARP at Post and Sector Level and communication with the ARP Headquarters in the Guildhall.
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This had all taken some time and we, that is the Head Warden and his No.2 (who was on duty that night) and myself, had no sooner sorted out who was going to be on standby and who could kip down on the bunks for a while, when our first ‘Distant Alert’ was sounded. Marco’s ‘Wailing Willie’ sounded for real for the first time and the heartbeat of Grantham started to flutter.
There have been many stories of the air raid warnings which sounded off in the London area not long after Chamberlain had finished his announcement. In Grantham we missed these, which we blamed on jittery fingers down south, but for all that, we felt sure that Grantham would get a right pasting much sooner than later.
The phone started ringing and we all started putting our gas masks and tin hats ‘at the ready’, trying hard to disguise our own flutters. A few minutes later, breathless figures were heard pushing their was [sic] through the blackout screens. Having reported and collected their gear, they left for their dispersal and patrol areas.
After a brief pause, we were then presented with our first casualty. The curtains parted and a helmeted figure wearing a gas mask, staggered into the room, collided with an equipment stand, collapsed on the ground and passed out cold! We stretched him out, removed his sweat soaked facepiece. Gasping for air, and much to our relief, he began to revive. The face began to resume a normal colour but for all that, the Head Warden did not like the looks of him and called for an ambulance to take him off to the local hospital. It later transpired that he, a fairly corpulent man in his fifties, had immediately donned his gas mask when the siren had sounded and had started to cycle furiously up the steep hill which led up to the ARP Post. Furthermore, he had neglected to soap the inside of his gas mask visor so that within minutes his perspiration had completely fogged his vision. In the blackout, he had collided with the kerb several times and come a cropper each time. a small incident perhaps amongst the thousands of more dramatic ones which would happen in Grantham over the next year or two, but remembered long after we had become inured to shocks and surprises.
On this occasion too, this was a false alarm. The All Clear was sounded shortly afterwards, the Wardens reported back, took off their gear and departed thankfully if uneasily, and we went to our bunks for the rest of the night.
The night flying aircraft from the Flying Training School and the nearby Bomber Command bases which had been hurredly [sic] grounded, were soon aloft again which, in a way was reassuring as the silence before the All Clear had been uncanny. For months now, only very bad weather had given us a night free from aircraft noise. This silence, if only for a short while on an otherwise fine night, had brought up all ears, straining to detect a different engine note.
In the nights and weeks which followed, we had quite a number of General Alerts and a few ‘Pips’ which caused an even greater straining of ears.. [sic] With the urgency upon us to train up every available pilot, the RAF decided to fly on during General Alerts and only ground their aircraft during the most likely of the Local Alerts. With the sky full of circling Ansons, Oxfords, Battles, Harvards Trainers, and Hampden Bombers, it was next to impossible to sort out the odd Ju88, Dornier or Heinkel. Many of these alerts would be merely precautionary but there were quite a few genuine intrusions as ‘Jerry’ probed our defences in the same way as we were probing his. Although there had been by this time, quite a few daylight incidents by and on both sides, as yet the air war at night had not developed into the holocaust we had been led to believe. There had been a tacit reluctance on both sides to accept responsibility for being the first to cause civilian casualties.
As September drifted into October, the ‘Phoney War Blues” began to creep in. as false alarm followed false alarm, sheer inactivity began to erode the initial high morale and dedication of the first few days and destroy the underlying sense of purpose. Some of the Wardens on duty soon discovered that the landlord of the adjacent pub was not averse to leaving his back door open after closing time. On a number of occasions I had to do a quick cover up job when, as being apparently the only one on duty, I had to ‘go fetch from the toilet’ or whatever when some senior ARP man or the police made an unscheduled visit. There were occasions when I wondered if the Wardens were going to be capable of coordinating their own movements let alone those of the sector wardens if the sirens went.
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Sometimes we only just made up our team of Wardens as some of them had drifted off to other jobs. The Messengers too began to drift away. By the beginning of October, there was talk of the schools opening again and the sixteen year olds who had been planning either to go back to their Sixth Form or to find jobs began handing in their notices. I was beginning to feel restless too. On a number of occasions I felt sure that I had been sent off on a fool’s errand just to prove to Headquarters that someone was on duty at the Post.
In the meantime, I had being [sic] doing quite a bit of research. Part of this was into what the RAF expected of me when the time came for me to register for military service and partly into what I could do constructively with the year and a quarter which intervened. When the time came for the school to reopen, I had already decided that, since the University route to engineering qualification was now ‘closed for the duration’, another year or so in the Sixth would serve no useful purpose. It became obvious that making a good start on an engineering apprenticeship combined with the Ordinary and Higher National Certificate in Mechanical Engineering courses which would eventually lead on to Corporate Membership of the Institution of Mechanical Engineers, would be a good bargaining point when it came to my appearance before the appropriate Selection Board.
So, where to start. There was still no sign of the local Technical Institute opening. This would be the bottom rung of the National Certificate course, but at least I could do something about starting and [sic] apprenticeship with one of the local engineering firms.
At that time, Grantham had three major engineering concerns and a number of smaller ones. Of the former, Marcos were out for a start. Flat out, working three shifts, seven days per week, all they wanted were unskilled machine operators and assemblers. If you started with them, you would be put on a machine and once you had mastered it they would clap a ‘Reserved Occupation’ order on you and you would be stuck on that machine for the rest of the war. They didn’t want the bother of apprentices.
The other two big companies were of world fame as fine engineers and had very sound apprenticeship schemes, but by early October their apprentice intake was already full and as soon as they heard of my ambition to go into the RAF as soon as they would have me, they firmly showed me the door.
This left the smaller companies. One of them again had a good apprentice programme but this too was already full.. I began to despair, but at this point my father stepped in to take a hand. A friend of his was the Chief Engineer of a small American firm making coal mining machinery. Admittedly they only had an assembly shop with a few simple machines. They had no facilities for the other manufacturing processes in which practical experience was necessary for eventual qualification. Following a successful interview with him, he agreed to take me on as an apprentice draughtsman for the couple of years or so before my callup. (Of course, as in the case of the First War, there were still a large number of people who blithely believed in the old ‘Over before Christmas’ nonsense, but most people were resigned to the fact that we were most probably facing up to a long hard fight which we had only just started)
At first I was none too enthusiastic. Although by this time, having been taken round the workshops, met the Foreman and seen the product, and had got a fair idea of what the company stood for, I was still ‘Johnny, Head in Air’. Later on in the war in a dramatic semi-documentary film about the RAF and the families involved in it, there featured one of the most famous little poems of the war. It started with the two lines:-
Do not despair for Johnny Head in Air,
He sleeps as sound as Johnny Underground
Now for me, Johnny Head in Air, you could not get anything so Johnny Underground as a Coalcutter. However, it seemed as good a place to start as any, and so a starting date was agreed upon, and I went away to ‘put my affairs in order’
My first job was to hand in my notice as an ARP Messenger. I was not popular and made to work my week out. I was no longer a Messenger.
My next job was to go to my OTC Commanding Officer and tell him that I had decided to leave school and therefore would no longer be one of his NCOs and therefore may I hand over my OTC uniforms and the other equipment. Expressions of regret and offerings of good wishes.
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I then went to Snowy Elms to tell him that I was not only leaving the Messengers but I was also leaving school. Even more expressions of regret and more good wishes.
Next to the school office to say that I would not be coming back to school when they decided to open again. My departure suitably recorded. I was no longer a schoolboy. I was instructed to white to the HQ of the Public School’s Air Cadet Wing to say that, having left school, I was therefore no longer in that organisation. (I never got a reply so I assumed that it had died a natural death with the outbreak of war) I was no longer a PSACW Cadet.
Having done all that, I paused for breath and asked myself what was left? The answer was that I was now a mere sixteen year old ‘civvy’ waiting to start off as an apprentice next Monday morning at 7.30 am sharp. (What happened then is, of course, quite another story)
But, and it was a big but, [underlined] I was now free to free to join the Grantham Squadron of the Air Defence Cadet Corps! [/underlined] And that is a matter for the next chapter.
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[underlined] Chapter Six I Join No.47(F) Grantham Squadron Air Defence Cadet Corps [/underlined]
By the Autumn of 1939, the Squadron had been in existence for some eight months and had become a smart, well disciplined and well organised unit. Basic training was well advanced and the roll count had passed the hundred mark. A few of its cadets had already registered for military service and there had been a few changes in the command structure as one or two officers had been called up. In addition to the officers, the squadron had a number of civilian instructors, notable amongst whom was one of the principal civilian signals instructors from the Radio School at Cranwell. He was to serve us faithfully through all the war years, and the name ‘Betts’ was to be ever associated with the ‘beeping’ of morse buzzers which seemed to be a constant background to our evening parades.
Our association with RAF Spittlegate had, over the months, become very close and practically every parade saw at least of one of their instructors down at our Headquarters holding forth on a wide variety of subjects. Every Sunday morning too, a strong contingent of cadets would be seen marching through the town and up the hill to the airfield. Once there, the various ‘trades’ would disperse to the hangars or instruction rooms and by this time most cadets had had their first flip’, especially those who had opted for and been accepted for aircrew when the time came for their callup. These were taken off to Navigation rooms, the Meteorology section, parachute packing etc., and many of the Ansons, Oxfords and Blenheims, away on navigation exercises would have a cadet on board glued to the windows and their air maps.
At Headquarters, most rooms were now plastered with wall charts and model aircraft hung from the ceilings. Now that war had been declared, most of the windows were painted out of fitted with blackout screens or curtains. However, by the time I joined, most people had got used to gloom and groping around in the semi dark. The Orderly Room buzzed and the neighbours got used to the yells of command from the parade ground to the rear of the building. The Town also got used to seeing the blue of the ADCC uniform both as the cadets made their way to HQ for parades and also marching parties ‘showing the flag’. We were still heavily dependent upon the support of the townspeople’s subscriptions and donations for most of our running expenses. In this respect the support committee, headed tirelessly by Lady Longmore, the Mayor (Stan Foster) and the others who had formed the guiding committee when the Squadron was formed in January, worked away in the background.
It might have been noticed that the possessive ‘our’ had crept into this account. My father, who was of course, the Squadron’s Commanding Officer (and was very proud of how the Squadron had developed), talked much at home of all the doings at ‘Cadets’, Nevertheless he had been quite adamant that I should take no part in its activities until such time as I could join it officially. I suppose we had both known that in time I would join the Squadron, but although as yet I had not done so, we both felt that 47(F) was [underlined] our squadron. [/underlined]
Well, I had sat and passed my Matriculation exam in July and had left school, so there would be no more examinations to sit until the end of the Technical Institute’s terminal examinations next summer, the war permitting of course. I was no longer in the OTC or the Air Cadet Wing for that matter. I had left the Messengers and was now waiting to start my engineering apprenticeship and my night school studies. So, there was apparently no reason why I should not join the Air Defence Cadet Corps. There was, however one problem which had to be thrashed out before there was any talk of me signing up.
The problem was that I was the Commanding Officer’s son. As soon as I made it known that I was now free and keen to join, my father had made a point of discussing it with his officers.
He now made it quite plain to me that I would only be allowed to join on the strict understanding on all sides, and mine in particular, that I did so as an ordinary cadet. I would have no rank and no privileges, given or expected, until such time as I had earned commendation and recommendation for promotion. Furthermore such recommendations must come from other officers than the C.O. and only after such time as I had passed my basic training requirements and there was a vacancy for such a promotion to fill.
By the time I actually presented myself at the Squadron Orderly Room to be enrolled as Cadet No.308 Stevenson P.D., it was well known to the officers and others, what my previous experience in the OTC and the Public Schools Air Cadet Wing had been. I made a point of playing this down and stuck to plain facts on my enrolment form. I cannot remember now whether it had been discussed, but from now on, as soon as we were in uniform, our family relationship was formally and firmly
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dropped, even at home. Henceforth he became my Commanding Officer at all times, to be meticulously saluted and addressed as ‘Sir’. Furthermore, we made a point of never leaving our house, walking along to the H.Q., or leaving the building together, in order to emphasise this ‘no favours’ relationship. This policy was rigidly adhered to throughout the four years he was in command of the Squadron and, henceforth, so far as this commentary is concerned, he will always be referred to as ‘The Commanding Officer’.
Formalities over, measured for uniform, added to the list for the next visit by the Medical Officer, regarded with some curiosity by the existing cadets and sternly by Squadron Warrant Officer Dawson,
I took my place amongst the ‘sprogs’ of No.4 Flight. In the drill session which followed, I did my best to show that there was not much in the ADCC Drill Book that I had not already mastered in the OTC. At the end of the session, I was told by W.O. Dawson to report to his office at the next break. Wondering what I had done wrong on my first night, I duly stood before him, standing stiffly to attention. I can’t remember his exact words now but it was something like ”I know full well that your foot drill is probably as good as or better than most other cadets and could probably instruct the recruits in drill as well as most of my NCOs, but don’t try so damned hard to show it. They are all obviously watching you and it may be misinterpreted as trying to get promotion the moment you arrive. I’m not asking you to act stupid, just pretend to be just average for the moment. Understood?” “Yessir” say’s I somewhat surprised. He then barks “And you should know by now that you don’t address your Warrant Office as ‘Sir’, do you Cadet Stevenson?” “No, er, [underlined] Mister [/underlined] Dawson” says I. “Dismiss” says he, and I do so, just managing to avoid saluting him.
In due time I had the inevitable medical which I passed A1 except for eyesight and eventually got a uniform which more or less fitted me. Having had four years of khaki serge with high collar, apart from the colour change, it did not feel much different. Naturally, it had no stripes or other insignia to indicate that I was anything other than the lowest form of life.
The maximum strength that an ADCC Squadron could hold was two hundred cadets, divided into four flights. If its strength would be likely to exceed this in the long term, then another squadron had to be formed. In those early days of the Squadron, our numbers hovered around the hundred mark on the books, with average parade strength of seventy to eighty.
For us, this was a convenient size at around twenty in each flight. When the weather was bad or when the parade was at night after blackout, we could just about parade the whole squadron in the largest of our rooms. After that, there were enough relatively big rooms to accommodate a flight in each and the walls gave some indication of which flight was using it.
Flights One and Two were, in general, the older more experienced cadets, with No.1 Flight being mostly cadets who would be opting for Aircrew when their time came, having passed their medical examination and had the necessary educational standards. No.2 Flight was mainly Ground Trades. Numbers 3 and 4 Flights were essentially ‘feeder flights’ with reasonably experienced cadets in No.3 who had either not yet made up their minds, or had not yet attained the necessary acceptance levels. No.4 Flight naturally ended up with the ‘sprogs’ and the very youngest cadets. Right from the start, the minimum age for entry had been fourteen, since a very large proportion of the children of this typical industrial town, still left school at fourteen.
Naturally, for my sins, I was dumped in No.4 Flight, and would stay there until such time as I could justifiably deserve to be something better. So, I bided my time, held my tongue and did my best to behave as a new recruit. However, once a recruit had got a uniform and had mastered enough basic foot drill not to disgrace the Squadron, he was permitted to join the Sunday morning contingent up to Spittlegate. Consequently, when I was allowed to join the chosen, I was very ‘chuffed’.
Completely resigned now to the fact that I could never be accepted for aircrew, I joined the Trades Group on their way to the hangars, determined to learn as much as possible about engines and airframes ‘in the flesh’ in manner of speaking.. Of course, this was by no means terra incognita as I had been there quite a few times in the Air Cadet Wing days, now several months back. This time however, the emphasis was more ‘hands on’.
At this point I think there is a need to revert to the subject of my apprenticeship and its associated technical studies. I had made a start in the workshops of the coal mining machinery company and was getting used to making a cold dark start at 7.30am six days a week. (The normal working week in the factories was still a standard 48 hour week, 7.30am to 5pm Mondays to Fridays plus 7.30 to 1pm on Saturdays. These were the hours worked by the apprentices, but the men had their standard week increased ‘for the duration’ by compulsory overtime to a 54 hour week. Sometimes,
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when there was a rush job, the men were called upon to work Sunday mornings also. These working hours took a hefty slice out of one’s week for a start!
Unless one’s ambitions were to be no higher than a shop labourer, then attendance at night school was a conditional part of your apprenticeship. In my case, with my sights being set somewhat higher, this would involve, for the first year, attendance at the local Technical Institute for three nights per week during the Institute’s autumn and spring terms. It was sheer luck that these three school nights did not coincide with either of the two Cadet nights. Thus my new working week involved five and a half working days and every night Monday to Friday at night school or Cadets. Add on Sunday mornings at Cadets plus two or three hours homework and private study and my week was beginning to fill up quite nicely!
There was still another demand upon available time. The Technical Institute had, like many other similar institutions, postponed the beginning of their courses until the air raid threat had receded. Instead of their usual opening at the beginning of September, it was now late October and they had lost five or six teaching weeks. As a result, instead of an evening’s instruction being two one hour sessions, 7pm to 9pm, in order to make up for lost time, the evening would comprise three one hour sessions from 6.30 to 9.30pm.
By late 1939, my life was roughly divided into three existences, my daytime apprentice’s life, my night school life and my evening and Sunday morning’s ADCC life. Time left over (if any) could be spent on non-essentials such as eating, sleeping and the trivialities of ordinary life!
During the three months of ‘Phoney Peace’ we had quite a few intrusions by the Luftwaffe. At first these seemed to be largely exploratory, but having apparently found that the Grantham area was not one with antiaircraft or balloon defences, they must have decided that we were open for attack and we began to get our first bombs. Unlike the ground war, which was to explode into dramatic action the following spring with the invasion of the Low Countries, Grantham’s air war built up slowly.
Their principal target was the 20mm cannon factory and as soon as it was effectively located, the intruders adopted a regular nightly pattern whenever the weather was favourable. In the winter months with daylight ending in the late afternoon, as early as 6pm on some nights, the Distant Warning sirens would start their wailings (There were now several of them at various parts of the town). The Spittlegate and Harlaxton trainers and the local Bomber Command aircraft would still be aloft, but we on the ground would be held in suspense. The intruder, having passed through the radar screen would then fly around until it got amongst our own aircraft circling round our air bases. After a while, with a bit of luck on their part, our Observer Corps would lose track of them with the result that they would not be able to initiate the ‘Pips’ to send us scuttling for the shelters. We would wait for an hour, perhaps two, and nothing seemed to happen. Sometimes the intruder would switch on his own navigation lights and join in with the circling trainers, no doubt making absolutely sure of his position. Then perhaps, with fuel getting low, he might line up behind a trainer starting his landing approach and silhouetted against the airfield’s flare path, he would fire a burst with his forward guns. All too often, his aim was accurate.
Successful or not, he would then circle round to make a low, fast bombing run over the centre of the town and loose off a stick of bombs into the industrial part, hopefully hitting his primary targets but all too often, falling short and hitting the housing areas. With the ‘Pips’ sounding desperately, we would dive for shelter but the horse had flown.
Quite apart from the actual damage and casualties inflicted, the object of these attacks was obviously intended to cause as much disruption as possible to our war work and the training of our pilots, therefore, the timing of these raids would vary considerably, with several intruders keeping the sirens going off and on throughout the night at times. All this was very tiring of course, and nerves began to suffer. In the event, the cannon factory received very few direct hits and was usually back in full production the following day. Various books have been published illustrating the damage inflicted upon the mainly working class housing to the south of the town and on the bombing run in. these dramatically underline the fact that in the early 1940s, per head of population, Grantham was the most heavily blitzed town in the U.K. and suffered the highest casualties.
Even amongst all this death and destruction, these [sic] was perhaps a wee excuse for a little bit of dry humour. One night at Cadets, we were in one of the front rooms having an Aircraft Recognition session under an RAF instructor who had come down from Spittlegate. The room was blacked out as usual with shutters in place and his screen backed onto the window. The Distant Warnings
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sounded but we decided to carry on. Spittlegate’s trainers were still flying around, some of them quite low over the town. In addition to the aircraft silhouettes being projected on the screen, there was a quiet running commentary going on as the various engine notes were identified. “Oxford”, “Anson” “Blenheim” etc.
However, the sound of the engines notes of the Blenheim and the Ju88 were very similar, so that when a particularly low aircraft passed over our heads, a small voice from the audience said “Blenheim”.
A second or two later, there were five enormous explosions as a stick of bombs tore the guts out of part of the factory a quarter of a mile south along the main road (incidentally killing one of the fitters with whom I had been working earlier on in the day} [sic]. The blast, in the way bomb blast tended to go, ricocheted along the road and hit the front of our Headquarters, blasting out several windows including the one in the room where we were sitting. However, by this time we were adept at diving for cover and before the glass hit the floor, had there been light to see, I doubt that a single head would have been above desk level. In the ensuing silence which usually followed a bomb, an equally small but audible shaken voice said “It wasn’t, you know”. Another brief silence was followed by shrieks of equally shaky laughter, after which we decided that we had had enough aircraft recognition for the night. The parade was dismissed and I went along to my own factory which had also lost the majority of its windows. There was not much in the way of coal mining machinery produced during the next few days until we had cleared up the mess, replaced the glass in the windows and restored the blackout.
Running ahead a bit perhaps , but there was another incident which caused quite a bit of amusement in the Squadron and at RAF Spittlegate as well. It was in the tense months following Dunkirk with the threat of invasion hanging over us. There was even more activity at Spittlegate to put every possible pilot into the air. At that time, the RAF Regiment had not been formed and the ground staff had to man station defences in addition to their work in the hangars and elsewhere. Round the clock working, disturbed nights and picket duties were taking their toll and flight commanders were doing their best to arrange 24 and 48 hour passed wherever possible, to reduce the strain.
By this time quite a few of the more senior cadets had become proficient on the station firing range, not only with rifles but also with mounted Lewis and Vickers machine guns. Our C.O. received an urgent phone call from the officer responsible for station defence. Would it be possible for a small selected group of these senior cadets to come up to the station and take over some of the perimeter patrols and act as backup to the defence posts for half a day or so next Saturday. Agreed, rounded up and delivered.
Now there happened to be a gate in the perimeter fence on the eastern boundary of the station, conveniently accessible to the Officers Mess and Married Quarters. Crossing the green lane outside the gate gave access to a footpath leading to the little nine hole golf course which the RAF tended to use as well as the town residents. When Saturday morning’s duties had been appropriately completed, it was the Station Commander’s habit to change into civvies after lunch and partake of a round or two, which this Saturday he proceeded to do.
Some time later, our Commanding Officer was called to the telephone by a somewhat irate Group Captain. It would appear that the said Group Captain had, suitable garbed and kitted with golf gear, left the station by this gate and had been let out by one of the stations ground staff on picket duty. However, while he was enjoying his game, a tall and somewhat burly ADCC Cadet, armed with a pick axe handle, had taken over.
This cadet is approached by a civilian in golf gear who shows every intention of entering the station.
The ensuing conversation goes something as follows:
“I’m sorry sir, civilians are not permitted to pass through this gate”
“But I am the Group Captain ‘X’ in command of this station”
“Very good sir, may I see you [sic] pass?
Too late the Group Captain realises that his pass is still in his uniform pocket, back in the Mess.
Tried bluster and words of authority. Cadet unmoved, sticks to his instructions.
“May I suggest sir, that you make your way round to the Main Gate Guardroom where they will be pleased to check your identity and let you in. I am afraid I am instructed to let no one in without the appropriate pass”
Group Captain realises that he was not going to get past this large and burly figure of authority and by the time he had walked a further half mile around the station perimeter, he is in no mood to accept further frustrations. It seems that the guard on duty recognised his Commanding Officer and let him
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in with appropriate ceremony. The C.O. strode on a further few yards, stopped, turned round and stormed into the Guardroom to demand from the NCO in charge, why he, in civilian clothes, had not been requested to show his pass. Group Captain walks through the camp to the Officer’s Mess and demands a drink to cool his ire. Refreshed, he sees the funny side of it and tells the other officers present how he was denied entry to his own camp by mere [sic] boy who effectively barred his way.
Joke goes round the camp like wildfire and the Group Captain rings up the Cadet C.O. to report what happened. Cadet C.O. extremely apologetic, promises to tear off a strip when the Cadet in question next parades. No, says the G.C.. Pass on my appreciation of his devotion to duty etc., etc.
(I very much regret that the name of the cadet has not remained in my memory bank even if his actions have. He surely should appear upon the Squadron’s unofficial roll of honour!)
Having ‘slaved in the galleys’ for a respectable period, I eventually got my big break, but it came in rather a strange way. Thanks to my previous experience in the OTC, the Air Cadet Wing and my own general knowledge in matters aeronautical, there were quite a few subjects in which I was ‘ahead of the class’. There were of course quite a few new subjects which I attended assiduously, but in those subjects in which I was not exactly wasting my time, there was a tendency to use me as a ‘gopher’ (The later expression for someone who is told to “Go for this” or “Go for that”) The fact that our home was but a stone’s throw from the Cadet HQ also contributed in a way. I soon got into the habit of opening the place up on parade nights, getting the fires going and taking along parcels of uniforms etc., which had been delivered to my father’s business address nearby. This had brought me into contact with the Squadron’s Equipment Officer who was a quiet but likeable Scot and I drifted into giving him a hand from time to time. The fact that I had done a ‘fatigue’ or two in the OTC Armoury and knew my way around the issue and storage of uniforms etc., also helped.
Cadet F/Lt MacKay was also Stores Manager at one of the big engineering firms in the south of the town, now flat out on war work. he was beginning to find it difficult to get to Cadets every parade night and suggested to the other Flight Commanders that when I was not involved in my own personal training, and he was unavoidably absent, I should as his officially appointed assistant, be in charge of the squadron equipment store and be responsible for the receipt, storage and issue of uniforms and other items.
The suggestion was accepted in principle but the Adjutant pointed out that responsibility and authority must go hand in hand. He said that if I was to be in charge of the stores when the Equipment Officer was absent, then I should have at least a couple of stripes to represent the authority required. However, since at the moment the Squadron had a full complement of NCOs, the appointment should be non-substantive. In other words, I would be an Acting Corporal whose authority did not extend beyond the door of the Equipment Stores. I supposed it was a start, even if it was only half a step on the rung of promotion. The C.O. agreed, the existing NCOs were told of my exact standing and I was accepted as not representing a threat to their seniority or authority. I think that the very strict ‘no fraternisation’ policy which the C.O. and I had stuck to so carefully, had paid off in the long run.
There were no real problems at Cadet H.Q., but when we were up at Spittlegate, there were a few occasions when my declining to use my stripes was misunderstood.
Matters came to a head rather suddenly one Saturday afternoon. It would seem that there was some sort of ‘flap’ on at Spittlegate and our C.O. had received a call that morning from the Duty Officer asking if it was possible for a working party of Cadets to go up there and lend a hand. I was asked if I could drum up some volunteers plus a senior NCO to take charge.
When the time came for the main party to move off, there was no sign of the Sergeant who was supposed to march us up. Having waited for ten minutes or so, I left a message asking him to catch us up and assume command. Fully aware that I did not really have the authority to do so, I formed the group up and gave the command to march. Up at the Spittlegate Guard Room we checked in as usual and waited for the Sergeant. After a further ten minutes, I decided to exceed my brief once again and marched the group up to the Duty Officer, where I was told to take them ASAP to the hangars. I tried to explain that I was not really a full NCO, but it fell on deaf ears. In the hangars, the Flight Sergeant told me to find out where help was needed, as help was apparently needed urgently. Again I tried to explain that I was only an acting corporal but all I got was a “Stop arguing and get on with it” sort of look, so I stopped arguing and got on with it, putting the cadets where they were needed. Nobody seemed to object and we spent the rest of the afternoon helping, holding, fetching and taking and generally making ourselves useful. When eventually a halt was called, the Flight
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Sergeant came over, thanked us and said that he had arranged for transport to take us back to the town.
Back home, the C.O. asked how we had got on. Not wanting to ‘shop’ the Sergeant who had not come to take charge, I was deliberately vague as to who was actually in charge, and left it at that. Next morning at our usual Sunday morning parade, I was told to report to the Orderly Room. Rather to my surprise an RAF driver was there, with the C.O. looking hard at me. “Who was in charge of yesterday’s party at Spittlegate?” After a certain amount of havering I was forced to admit that Sergeant X had not turned up, so I had decided to take them up myself rather than wait any longer. “I tried to explain, but they were too busy to listen”. Well, says the C.O., it appears that they want the same party under the same NCO to go back again for the day and they have sent down a truck to take them up. They seem extremely pleased at the way the cadets got stuck in yesterday.
At this point either the Adjutant or one of the Flight Commanders chips in – I can’t remember which. “We will be losing Sergeant Y soon, may I suggest that Corporal Stevenson be promoted Sergeant with immediate effect so that he can take full command of the party” The C.O. looks appropriately non committal until nods from the other officers signify their approval. “Carry on, Sergeant” says he, so there was I, up another rung. “And see me in my office tomorrow night” says Dawson with a look which warns me not to get cocky about it!
Assuming command can be a very individual thing. Around this time an amusing relationship built up. Again, I have unfortunately forgotten names, but it concerns two cadets who became close ‘buddies’ as a result of their experiences on the firing range at Spittlegate. One of these was a tall well built, sixteen year old ‘townie’, the other a diminutive fourteen year old country boy. The former proved that, as soon as he got a rifle in his hands he went completely ‘gun shy’, failing to hit anything, since he firmly shut his eyes the moment he started to squeeze the trigger. We were convinced that the country boy must have been born with a shotgun in his hands. He was completely gun mad, but obviously well trained in the handling of guns by his father. He was determined to fire everything the RAF had to offer. Rifles, Lewis and Vickers air guns and even the vicious 0.5inch Boyes Anti Tank Rifle whose ‘kick’ would drive him backwards a good six inches. (As was to be expected he became an Air Gunner when he joined up) Meanwhile, the range instructors had done everything they could think of to get the big cadet to overcome his gun shyness but to no avail. Then, quietly, the country boy decided to take over.
We never knew how he did it but, taking the pair of them to the far end of the range, he spent the next half hour quietly talking to the big boy. Soon, steady cracks signalled that the big cadet was not only firing away confidently but was also doing some respectable scoring. After that, they were inseparable and were both the first to volunteer for range practice.
It was surprising how many jobs the RAF at Spittlegate could find for us to do. Volunteers were also called for helping out at the Officers Mess. Before I got my ‘Three’ up, I trod very carefully about volunteering. Too little volunteering and I could be accused of shirking, too much and I could be accused of angling for promotion. Somehow, I managed to get ‘wished’ into helping out in the Mess but it was a job I hated. Becoming a Mess Orderly was not on my list of possible careers in the RAF. Maybe it was because I had already found out that alcohol did nothing for me, and so I could be regarded as ‘safe’. Certainly, had I been that way inclined, I could have knocked back many a drop or dram as there were times when the few orderlies were busy elsewhere and I was in sole charge of the bar.
While on the subject of volunteering, this may be the point to introduce another member of our team who would feature frequently in the doings of the Squadron over the next five years. I cannot remember now whether she came to us in the ADCC days or whether we had become ATC by then. Right from our inaugural meeting in January 1939, our weekly local newspaper, the Grantham Journal, had given us excellent publicity. By now, the sub-editor had been calling in at least once a week to see if there was a story, and during these visits, she had come to the conclusion that the secretarial side of our Orderly Room was far from orderly. What was needed was a ‘woman about the place’. Her offer of assistance was enthusiastically accepted, and so we acquired the services of Miss Llwelyn-Owens who became an integral part of the Squadron’s doings over the next five years.
She was short, dumpy and very efficient. She reorganised our filing, straightened out our records, typed or [sic] letters and memos, tidied the place up and became our Squadron Mother. In her early thirties, she was of course middle aged to us, but what she lacked in height and good looks, she more than made up in personality. She broke no hearts amongst the cadets but they became her
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willing slaves. She was ‘interesting’ and naturally well informed, and once she was on the strength, she stepped up our publicity. Much more about our ‘Miss Owens’ later.
Also on the subjects of ‘Mothers’, we must pay further tribute to Lady Longmore. We were still mainly dependent upon public donations and subscriptions for our running costs and our support committee, under the leadership of Lady Longmore worked tirelessly to bring the cash in. whenever Sir Arthur (now Air Chief Marshall) was on leave, she would make sure he added glamour to the occasion. We have already called him the ‘Founding Father’ of the Squadron and by the same token Lady Longmore was surely our ‘Founding Mother’
Meanwhile, we cadets spent our daytimes at our apprenticeships or other jobs, our evenings at night school or at Cadets, and our night times wondering when the Luftwaffe would have yet another go at the cannon factory and the other factories. In spite of the fact that we frequently had to dive for the shelter (the H.Q. building had some useful cellars which had been requisitioned by the ARP) training continued apace, the recruits came in and the first of our older cadets had left for the Forces. The RAF certainly thought we were doing a good job. The Battle of Britain was over and it was London’s turn to feel the effects of their Blitz. The threat of invasion had passed and the country was girding itself for a long hard struggle. 1940 ended and a New Year of uncertainty began. The Air Defence Cadet Corps, (several hundred squadrons strong now) felt, with some justification, that it was a creditable part of the overall war effort.
Rumours had been going around for some time that the RAF was of the same opinion and that the Air Ministry was making active steps to take over the responsibility of the Air Cadet movement. As 1941 began we were told that this was to take place within the month and that the ADCC would now become the ‘Air Training Corps’ with effect from the beginning of January. Our officers would have temporary commissions in the RAF Volunteer Reserve. The Cadets would have new uniforms and retain their ranks. Everything, with the exception of purely welfare expenditure, would be paid for by direct per capita grants from the Air Ministry. From now on, we were to consider ourselves as being an integral part of the RAF.
WE HAD ARRIVED!
[photograph)
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[underlined] Chapter Seven – 47(F) Sq. Air Training Corps 1941 – No. 12 (P)AFU at RAF Spittlegate [/underlined]
1941 was a fairly momentous year for the Squadron. It started with us becoming No.47(F) Grantham Squadron [underlined] Air Training Corps. [/underlined] Our officers were now commissioned in the RAF Volunteer Reserve and would reappear in normal RAF officer’s uniforms. Nominally though, they dropped a rank. Commanding Officers of cadet squadrons were remustered as Flight Lieutenants, Flight Commanders as Flying Officers and so on.
Cadet ranks remained essentially the same. New uniforms would be reissued in a style more or less resembling the standard RAF ‘erks’ outfit although it would still retain the high ‘choker’ collar.
Existing ADCC uniforms would be converted to ATC by new buttons and other insignia.
A new training syllabus was introduced which was intended to match in with the training at the RAF Reception Centres and the Initial Training Wings (the ITWs’). The intention was that an ATC cadet having, passed specified training standards, would be exempted the early stages of RAF training or at least placed on a ‘fast track’ programme.
New training manuals soon arrived. These were now printed by HMSO bearing the age old Air Ministry preface ‘Promulgated by Order of the Air Council for the guidance of all concerned’. Much of it was merely a more official version of the training material which had been issued by the ADCC, which in itself had been modelled on the ‘Square Bashing’ stages of RAF recruit training at the beginning of the war. There were however, a number of new subjects which we had previously introduced on an ad hoc basis after our cadets had more or less passed their initial ADCC training requirements.
The Battle of Britain had seriously depleted the reserve of fighter pilots and Fighter Command was working flat out to build up its strength once more. The Battle of the Atlantic was calling on Coastal Command to increase its patrol and anti-submarine capabilities. Bomber Command, now the only branch of the services capable of carrying the war into the enemy’s camp, was losing many crews on ineffectual bombing and leaflet dropping missions. Soon too, they were expecting a new generation of heavy bombers to enter squadron service, aircraft with several new air crew categories to meet the increased crew sizes. The training of aircrew, especially pilots, had to be stepped up for us to survive
At Spittlegate, the emphasis had changed from general pilot training to a more specific need for night fighter pilots. Airborne radar, though still in its early stages, was beginning to improve our interception success which had not been all that successful to date. Better, heavier and more powerful night fighters were also coming into service. The station ceased to be No.12 Service Flying Training School and now became No.12 (Pilots) Advanced Training Unit. i.e. No.12(P)AFU. There were very few changes in personnel, it was just a case of taking trainee pilots, already up to general ‘Wings’ standard from other SFTSs, and converting them specifically to be night fighter pilots or ‘Intruder’ pilots. In each case there was a greater concentration on blind flying, night flying, long distance navigation and the use of aircraft more similar to the Radar equipped Blemheim, Beaufighter and Mosquito night fighters which would soon be in service
In spite of the increasing tempo at Spittlegate, we were still welcome. As far as possible we ‘earned our keep’ by making ourselves as useful as possible in the hangars and elsewhere, in exchange for opportunities to use the firing range and go for flights when there was a seat going. Since we were only on the station in daylight, much as we would have liked to have gone on night flights, we were unable to do so. Daylight flying usually involved the pilots under training at the beginning of their courses, but as they became more proficient in handling the aircraft, they not only moved over to night flying, the actual flights were of longer duration. They were also more dangerous and a number of crews were lost.
We were lucky in that throughout all the war years, when our cadets flew on countless occasions at the various stations to which we were attached, we never had a single cadet injured. This was in spite of flying with pilots who were still very much learning their trade on the one hand, and in aircraft liable to engine failure (e.g. the Blenheims at Spittlegate and later the Avro Manchesters at RAF Bottesford), The nearest we got to a casualty, was when a young cadet, off on his first flight (in a MkIV Blemheim with its underslung gun pod) had the interesting experience of a wheels up crash landing on the airfield. More or less beneath his feet, the pod was wiped off over a hundred yards of grass and the propellers took up some rather curious shapes. When everything came to a halt, the crew and the cadet lost no time in hopping out to a safe distance. The arrival of the crash and ‘blood wagons’ created more mayhem. While the first enjoyed covering the Blenheim with foam, the latter
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landing on the airfield. More or less beneath his feet, the pod was wiped off over a hundred yards of grass and the propellers took up some rather curious shapes. When everything came to a halt, the crew and the cadet lost no time in hopping out to a safe distance. The arrival of the crash and ‘blood wagons’ created more mayhem. While the first enjoyed covering the Blenheim with foam, the latter [sic] put in some useful practice treating non existent casualties. Now it has always been the RAF tradition that if a crash occurs and the pilot and/or crew are uninjured, to restore nerves and morale, they immediately go up for another flight. In spite of this being his first and somewhat eventful flight, our very young cadet immediately insisted in going up with them again! Certainly one for the Squadron’s records.
In the background to all this, Britain was now on its own. The Battle of France had been lost and the Battle of Britain won the previous year. The war in Europe was in stalemate with armies facing each other across the Channel. Britain was reeling from the Blitz, as most of its major cities received nightly attacks from the Luftwaffe, which it had to be admitted, were a lot better at finding their targets than our Bomber Command was at finding theirs. Until airborne Radar was fitted to ageing Defiant and Blenheim night fighters, there seemed little we could do to stop them. Interception did improve and by the time the first Beaufighters came into service, we were able to fight back, hence the ongoing drive to get night fighter pilots through the Spittlegate courses as quickly as possible. The end result was that although we were still welcome in the hangars and other ground facilities, there were far fewer opportunities for those of our cadets who were opting for aircrew to gain air experience.
Our cadet roll had settled down, it would seem, to around one hundred or so with again around seventy to eighty on parades. In addition to those who lived in and around the town, there had been right from the start, a significant number who were prepared to cycle in from the surrounding countryside. We even had one cadet who cycled down the Great North Road from the outskirts of Newark, some eleven miles each way! (His devotion to duty was not confined to the ATC. He served with distinction in the RAF when his time came, became a ‘Regular’ in the post war RAF and rose to wear ‘Scrambled Egg’ upon his cap). We had a very strong contingent from the large village of Colsterworth, some nine miles south of Grantham, and in time this would lead us to forming a Colsterworth Flight, but more about that later.
It would also be around this time that a new category of ‘cadet’ joined our ranks. Conscription into the service had become the norm. thanks to the excellent and well recognised pre service training contributed by the Sea Cadets, the Army Cadets and the Air Cadets, it had been decided that any young man who ‘Registered’ at seventeen and a quarter and who was not already a member of the Cadet movement, must attend the Cadet unit of the Service into which he had been accepted. Most of those who joined us, saw the advantages of becoming a regular cadet and were soon absorbed into our ranks. Others, who seemed determined to remain ‘civvies’ until the last possible moment, declined our uniforms and remained something of an ‘awkward’ sub-flight, reluctantly parading to the rear of No.4 Flight, when they bothered to attend and were correspondingly treated with some contempt by the other cadets. They were however recipients of the same training programmes.
Thankfully, an increasing flow of well prepared training material was now coming through from ATC Headquarters, together with a much more coordinated training programme. This meant that by now, after some two year’s experience, there was much less for our own officers and other instructors to improvise or ‘swop up’. Unfortunately in a way, none of our offices at this time were ‘technical’. As a result there were a few significant gaps in our coverage of the subjects needed to meet the new emphasis on aircrew on aircrew training. But, as the saying goes, “Its an ill wind that blows nobody any good”
Once I had been promoted to Flight Sergeant, I was able to fetch out those instructional skills which had been so carefully instilled in me back in the OTC days. All the usual introductory subjects for recruit training in the ‘square bashing’ phase presented no difficulty and wherever possible, I did my best to train my Sergeants and Corporals to present them themselves. This gave me time and opportunity to concentrate on subjects which I really liked and derived great satisfaction in presenting. Theory of Flight, Airframe Construction, Meteorology and, increasingly Map Reading and Navigation, all of which were ’technical’ and essential to aircrew aspirants.
It was around this time that the Flight Sergeant rank was introduced. Furthermore, quite a few of our senior NCOs had been called up and in best ‘dead man’s shoes’ tradition I was now more or less the senior Sergeant. As more Corporals were promoted and given more responsibility, so I was able to
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delegate a goodly number of my elementary subject instruction to them and concentrate on my ‘technical’ subjects and thereby became more of a squadron instructor than a mere administrative NCO, awaiting callup.
This new status was reinforced by the fact that by mid 1941, I had passed my Ordinary National Certificate in Mechanical Engineering. Having Registered the previous autumn, I had appeared before the appropriate Selection Board and had been officially accepted for entry into the RAF Technical Branch. This was dependent upon the completion of my engineering apprenticeship, and passing my Higher National Certificate in two year’s time. I was now ‘deferred’, subject to annual appearance before the Selection Board. As a result I could now look forward to at least another two year’s service in the Squadron. A coveted crown had been added to my uniform above my three stripes, and so up I had gone another rung.
My situation was somewhat helped by the various stages of my apprenticeship which involved alternation periods in the works and the drawing offices. Office hours were of course less demanding and at lunch hours, my drawing board could be used to work up diagrams, charts etc., for my ATC lectures. Even my technical studies helped in a way. Once having mastered the theory of vector forces and motions, it was easy to covert [sic] the basic principles into navigation exercises and aerodynamics. Another thing which helped was that once I had passed my second year exams at the Grantham Technical School, instead of attending three evenings per week, I now attended the Newark Technical College’s part time day release National Certificate courses. These involved a four day working week at my factory and a fifth whole day plus one evening at the Newark Technical College.
As mentioned earlier, our attachment to Spittlegate had become somewhat less satisfactory as a result of their new responsibilities and working practices. Our CO had been working away quietly for sometime [sic] getting No.5 Bomber Group H.Q. personnel (from the top downwards) interested in our activities and also in the town’s ‘Wings for Victory’ and other war savings drives. We never got Arthur Harris down before he moved on to become Commander in Chief of Bomber Command, but his successors as O. i/c 5 Group certainly added lustre to 47(F)’s prestige from time to time. While on the subject of ‘name dropping’, we not only had AVMs Bottomly and Cochraine ‘drop in’ from time to time but Sir Arthur and Lady Longmore continued to help us whenever possible. We certainly had friends in high places.
This new relationship with No.5 Group suddenly bore fruit. For the past year there had been frenzied activity on requisitioned farmland just north of the village of Bottesford on the Lincolnshire/Nottinghamshire border, and in the autumn of 1941, RAF Bottesford became operational. Into it moved No. 207 Squadron, a newly reformed 5 Group squadron which was to become famous in a number of very significant ways. Furthermore, No.47(F) was going to be attached to them for the next year.
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[underlined] Chapter Eight 47(F) Sq. Air Training Corps and RAF Bottesford 1941-42 [/underlined]
As already mentioned in earlier chapters, our Commanding Officer had built up connections with members of the staffs of many of the local RAF establishments and these included the headquarters staff of No .5 Bomber Group which was already beginning to gain its legendary reputation. As a result of some gentle arm twisting, 47(F) was now attached to RAF Bottesford, a new bomber station some twelve miles in the opposite direction from Spittlegate.
During the 1930s rearmament period, the ‘Golden Age’ of RAF architecture had given Lincolnshire a number of superbly designed airfields with classic accommodation and mess blocks, hangars and service buildings, such as those to be found at Coningsby, Digby, Scampton and elsewhere. As the war approached, many older fields were given a more hurried facelift. Then, when war was declared, a massive programme of even more temporary airfield construction threw up dozens of ‘hostilities 0nly’ airfields in our and surrounding counties.
Bottesford was typical of these. A grass airfield with only a concrete perimeter track, dispersal sites for aircraft and a minimum of corrugated iron, steel framed maintenance hangars (Most daily maintenance and minor repair work on bomber bases would be done in the open dispersal areas during the war) Dispersed accommodation sites with uninsulated Nissen huts for the ground staff and slightly less uncomfortable wooden huts for aircrew were backed up by a few more permanent brick or concrete structures such as the H.Q., Control Tower, Officer’s and men’s messes, fire and rescue buildings etc.
Into this, with it’s concrete barely dry, had come No.207 Squadron. Formed originally as a Royal Naval Air Service Squadron in WW1, it had been disbanded when that war ended. It was reformed in 1940 at RAF Waddington where it originally worked up with Handley Page Hampdens, the ageing workhorse of No.5 Group in those early WW2 years. Although at the time it was initially intensely proud of the distinction, it had the ill luck to be chosen as the first squadron to fly the ill fated Avro Manchester. Having converted, the whole squadron was moved down to Bottesford where they were now getting to grips with putting this ‘monster’ into operational service.
At this stage of the war, Bomber Command was still thinking in terms of bigger, but still two engine ‘heavies’. Of the four principal manufacturers of bombers for the RAF throughout the war, Vickers would stick to mass production of their two engined ‘Wellington’, the ‘Wimpey’ of everlasting fame. Shorts, who were flat out making Sunderland flying boats for Coastal Command, decided to save valuable time by using the Sutherland wings with their four radial engines, grafting on a new slim fuselage, tail plane and undercarriage. They called it the ‘Stirling’ and in the event, the Stirling was the first ‘heavy’ to go operational. Hurried into service, it proved to be a typical ‘camel designed by a committee’. It was slow, it lacked the ability to carry large bombs and had a low service ceiling. It proved reasonably reliable but was not popular amongst the crews called upon to fly it.
The two other manufacturers (and the Air Ministry) were pinning great hopes on a new super-engine then under development by Rolls Royce. Essentially, it was two earlier (and reliable) vee-form twelve cylinder Kestrel engines, one upright and the other inverted, driving a common crankshaft. Hopefully, this new engine, optimistically named the Vulture, would in the hands of Handley Page and Avros, power two new two engine ‘heavies’ which would be much faster and with greater bomb loads, greater range and service ceiling than the Hampdens, Whitleys and ‘Wimpeys’ of No. 5 and other Bomber Groups. Rushed into service before it was properly developed, the Vulture proved a disaster and the two engine aspirations of Handley Page and Avro were dropped in favour of four engine developments.
The 207 Sq. air crews selected to fly this first of the new generation of aircraft, upon which Bomber Command were pinning even greater hopes, had been carefully gleaned from experienced Hampden crews from other 5 Group squadrons. These included quite a few, who in turn would be poached by Guy Gibson when the time came to form 617 Squadron, the Dam Busters.
By the time 47(F) appeared on their scene, 207 was just about settled in and getting their Manchesters operational. I am not sure how welcome we were when we first arrived, but 5 Group H.Q. in Grantham appeared to have told them that we were coming and could possibly be put to good use on the ground, and please would they give the cadets as much air experience as
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possible. In the case of the ground trades, they too were to be given as much experience of a similar nature.
We were not to know this when the Sunday morning Bottesford party assembled for the first time at Cadet HQ to await the arrival of the truck to take us there. All agog in anticipation of our first visit to a fully operational bomber station, we were not surprised to see an armed guard on the gate. Having passed through the barrier we were told to enter the Guard Room where the Security Officer watched as our Identity Cards were checked and our names recorded, whereupon he gave us a short sharp talk on Station Security. Nothing, repeat nothing, which we would see, hear or learn on this or any other visit, was to be discussed outside the station perimeter, and we were left in no doubt as to the penalties we would suffer should we be found to have done so. Pointing to the ‘Careless Talk Cost Lives’ posters which after eighteen months of war were everywhere, he said “This is for real here and don’t you forget it”
Suitably subdued, we formed up outside and marched as smartly as possible, we were escorted to the Duty Officer’s office. After a similar warning, we were taken on a brief tour of the central service area facilities and then onto the tarmac in front of the hangars where we had our first face to face encounter with the Manchester. At Spittlegate, we were all used to the ‘Faithful Annies’, the ‘Oxboxes’, the Blenheims and the Harvards which were all very much of a size but in comparison, the Manchester seemed ENORMOUS. Propellers which seemed big enough for a windmill, tyres as big as the average cadet, engine nacelles as big as a Harvard’s fuselage, a cockpit canopy twenty feet up in the air and a bomb bay big enough it seemed, to carry a bus. Although, we were to gather later, they were beginning to have grave doubts about the engines, they were immensely proud of the Avro airframe. We were proudly shown around its ‘innards’ and sat for the first time in power operated gun turrets. We had occasionally glimpsed a Manchester in the distance, but since they were instructed to keep well away from Spittlegate and Harlaxton’s training air space we had not seen them close to. During the morning there had been one or two of them doing flight tests and we had stood in wonder as they taxied out and, with savage roars from their huge Vulture engines, they took off circled around, and landed.
After some grub in the airmen’s mess (a distinct improvement on Spittlegate’s NAAFI wagons!) we broke up into ‘trades’. Our aircrew cadets marched off to the navigation and crew rooms where we made sure that they appreciated that we knew all about putting on Sidcot suits and parachutes and knew our flight drill. Since there were some more flight tests scheduled for the afternoon, a lucky few were taken out, installed in upper and rear turrets or in second pilots and navigator’s seats in the ‘office’ and away they went into Bottesford’s air space. Back on terra firma, they were drooling with excitement.
Meanwhile, our ground trades had dispersed into their respective work areas. The Armourers for example, as soon as they could, demonstrated that they too knew how to strip a Vickers or Lewis Air Gun and clear the usual stoppages, but now they needed to learn the same for the Browning air guns which were used in the Manchester turrets. A new piece of gear which they would get to know very well in the ensuing months, was the machine gun belt filling machine. We had seen the long trays which lined almost the whole length of the rear fuselage of the Manchester which guided yard upon yard of rounds into the turret guns. This was no mere demonstration. These rounds if fired, would be for real. Down in the bomb dumps, we looked in awe at hundreds of real live bombs of all sizes, and air drop sea mines. They were also introduced to the chore which the RAF were only too pleased to hand over to the ATC in later visits, the loading of canisters with hundreds of the RAF’s little 4lb hexagonal magnesium incendiary bombs, which we learned to load [underlined] very carefully [/underlined]. Earlier on we were given a demonstration of what would happen if one was dropped on its live end. Very spectacular. We never dropped one! In the hangars, the fitter trades similarly indicated that hangar life was not a closed book to them.
As was to be expected, this was our introductory visit. They got to know us and we got to know them. We definitely wanted to come again and they seemed very willing to have us back. From our point of view, the change in atmosphere had been dramatic. At Spittlegate, we had been used to a more or less round the clock tempo with aircraft flying, at all hours of the day and night, weather permitting. Maintenance had also been an ongoing, more or less regular routine. The only ‘flaps’ had been the result of attempts to bring a course back on time after a spell of bad weather or to urgently complete the training of a given course.
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At Bottesford, all seemed very different. The weather was of course the all deciding factor as to whether the station was on a ‘Stand Down’ or ‘Operations On’ status. On this, our first visit, the station was on ‘Stand Down’. All hands seemed to be working hard but steadily during daylight hours to get all essential maintenance up to date, damage repaired, aircraft air tested and training exercises completed. At nightfall, we were to find that, apart from late working in the hangars, there was an air of relief as air and ground crews collapsed for well earned rest and a chance to catch up with lost sleep. It was to be very different on the day we went to Bottesford when ‘Ops’ were scheduled for the following night, but more on that subject later.
We were a much bemused party which returned to Grantham late that afternoon. There was an overwhelming urge to chatter on about all we had seen and done. However, we NCOs, remembering the admonitions of the Security Officer, jumped down hard on any talk involving ‘sensitive’ matters, and our officer in charge reiterated our security responsibilities when the time came for us to dismiss. There was one thing we could say, we quite sure we had fallen on our feet when it came to our new attachment.
It was not long before our now quite regular visits to Bottesford settled down to a regular routine. Air crew category cadets, on arrival would make their way to the Navigation Section. There, they would go over the exercises which they had done at cadet H.Q. under my supervision and would work through previous ‘plots’ which had been done in recent operational sorties over France and Germany. At this time, many of these sorties involved the dropping of sea mines in areas of the North Seas, Baltic, Channel and Biscay coasts. Such navigation and position fixing had to be very accurate and we learned a lot of how it was done ‘for real’. Once the 207 navigators felt that we could make quite a good job of working out a simple plot, they would get us to work out one for a Manchester which was due for a flight test that day. Then to our delight, they would take us up on the test and the pilot rather than just ‘stooging around’ (as the saying went in those days) would follow our courses as we sang them out. with us glued to our air maps as we map read our progress over the ground, at the end of a half hour triangular flight, if we did actually arrive more or less back over the airfield, we really thought that there was something in this air navigation business, and how we were guiding this huge powerful machine around the skies. However, it should be added that this sort of thing was more characteristic of our visits to Bottesford later in the year.
While this was going on with our air crew cadets, our ground trades were similarly busy in the hangars, armaments sections, and out on dispersals. As it had been at Spittlegate, our cadets who were also engineering fitter apprentices, were soon helping out with maintenance and repair work. Of course the training aircraft at Spittlegate had suffered occasional damage as a result of forced landings, overshoots and ground collisions etc., but now we had our first experience of battle damage. One or two Manchesters had come back from mine laying sorties with the tips of their propellers bent back. Because the mines had to be dropped from a very low level in the dark, the pilots were experiencing the same difficulties of judging their height as the Dam Busters did two years later. Often these same aircraft came back with their bomb doors ripped off and one came back with seaweed in its radiator intake. On one occasion, one came back with a long length of German balloon cable wrapped round one of its propellers. When low flying exercises were on the go, twigs and small branches on one’s wing tips were regarded as great trophies.
These were the lucky ones. Somehow, their pilots had managed to regain control and bring their damaged aircraft back home. Others didn’t and paid the ultimate price. Practically every weekend when we arrived, the ground staff were grooming up replacement aircraft for ones lost on operations or, increasingly, regrettably and disastrously, those which had crashed or failed to return due to engine failures. It was obvious to all now, that the Vulture, rushed into production before it had been properly developed, was a complete failure.
There had been crashes and fatalities at Spittlegate either through aircraft failures, pilot errors or, sadly, through intruder gunfire, but these had rarely been talked about. Whether this was to keep such matters away from our young ears or whether it had been standard practice to keep up the morale of their trainees, I have no idea. At Bottesford, discussion of by now regular losses seemed unavoidable. I do know that certain badly damaged aircraft were ‘out of bounds’ to us until such times as certain rather unpalatable evidences of the less heroic aspects of war had been cleaned away. What they also did their best to hide from us was their undoubted loss of morale and confidence in the Manchester. The general opinion amongst the aircrews was that they were far more likely to lose their lives to a Vulture than a Messerschmidt [sic]. In spite of this, there seemed to be
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no reluctance to taking us up on test flights etc. We, being young and ‘good keen types’ were only too pleased to sign the inevitable ‘blood chit’ before take off, and make sure that little or nothing of this leaked back to our parents!
The replacement Manchesters by this time were all Mk.2 versions. In spite of their loss of faith in its engines, they still considered that the aircraft (with engines running well) was a delight to fly, but then on one bright sunny early summer morning they had something new to show us. There on the tarmac was a Manchester Mk.3. Still the same fuselage and tail plane but the Vultures had gone. The wingspan had been increased by ten feet each side and two new outboard engine nacelles housed sleek ‘vee twelve’ Merlins. This was the prototype of the legend to come.
Both aircrew and ground staff were ecstatic. It was doing the rounds of the Manchester squadrons to get their opinions as to how it handled and what they thought of it. For the first time, we heard in place of the Vulture’s snarls, the gentle purrs of four Merlins ticking over, changing to a purposeful roar as the ‘Mk.3’ took off and shot us up at zero feet.. This was to be the sound of ‘Bomber County’ for the next five years.
Very shortly after we started going to Bottesford, we arrived to find that operations were ‘on’ for the following night. The whole camp was in a very different state and was now working in top gear. We were there to give4 a hand wherever it was needed, irrespective of trade or category. Final checks and adjustments, much running up of engines, bombing up, fuelling up, arming up, frenzied but purposeful activity. Later on in the war, the country would be immensely inspired by Laurence Olivier’s production of Shakespeare’s ‘Henry V’ and the lines in the Prologue to the Battle of Agincourt could never be more apt to the scene on ‘Ops’ night at Bottesford or any other Bomber Command station that night or any other night of the escalating bomber offensive:
“And in the tents, the armourers accomplishing the knights,
With busy hammers closing rivets up,
Gave dreadful note of preparation”
Everywhere was a noisy and ascending crescendo of activity.
This was to be an early evening takeoff and as the crews were called to final briefing there was a palpable increase in tension. This heightened even further as we watched the crews, loaded with parachutes, charts, code books and other gear, climbed up into the lorries which would be taking them out to dispersal. Another pregnant silence and then the noise began.
First one, two, ten, twenty, forty and often more engines coughed into life. Clouds of smoke followed by another pause, then each engine in turn would be run up. Full revs, full boost, mag drop, temperatures, pressures, fuel checks and all the other pre-flight checks were carried out and we knew what was going on now. Then, when all was satisfactory, the whole squadron, with all engines ticking over, formed a slow procession round the perimeter like a great noisy herd of elephants, to the down wind point of the airfield. A red light would appear on the south horizon. This would be the hazard light on top of Bottesford village church, a nasty reminder that the aircraft, loaded to capacity, would have gained little height by the time they passed over it.
By this time, most of the station not directly involved in the take off would have collected near the take off point to cheer and wave them off as the Green from the control trailer gave the clear to go. By this time we had our favourite aircraft or crew and would be shouting as loudly as the rest.
One by one, they would roar off and away to join the other 5 Group aircraft also clawing for height. Bottesford at that time was at the south west edge of 5 Group territory so that we did not see the bulk of their take off, but as happened on so many ‘ops’ nights the noise of hundreds of Rolls Royce engines not only filled the night sky, but nearer to the bases, even went so far as to make the ground shake. We were fighting back now and repaying with interest, and 47(F) were doing their bit. On these ops nights, when we were there, we slaved in the bomb dump loading up the incendiaries, in the ammunition huts we would help loading up the machine gun belts, and everywhere else we would be fetching, carrying, cleaning up and taking messages.
We saw the other side of the coin when we arrived on the station on the morning following a night op. All too often in those Manchester days, the station was subdued. The airmen had grim expressions and quite a few WAAFs had red rimmed eyes. This introduces another difference we had noticed between Bottesford and Spittlegate.
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At Grantham, the WAAFs seemed to us at least, to be ‘motherly’ types who, if we were not careful, would ‘fuss’ around us. However, those in the Parachute Section were somewhat different. The Packing Room was always a haven of peace, where the ‘chutes’ were quietly issued and taken back into store, regularly unpacked and hung up to air, taken down and meticulously repacked. All very calm, caring and impressive. I had noticed that there was no shortage of volunteers amongst the older cadets when a party to the Parachute Section was proposed, and I also gathered that it was not just the parachutes that they were hoping to see. The packing of a parachute is a very precise procedure and calls for the exact placing of the various panels and shroud lines and a cadet invited to ‘have a go’ would invariably have his hand gently guided to the exact spot. To a seventeen year old boy in those far off very inhibited days (compared with today of course) these particular WAAFs who seemed to be cut above the others when it came to charm and good looks, could be quite disturbing in such ‘hands on’ circumstances. The effects were not lost on the other cadets, or the WAAFs either, who seemed quite prepared to join in with the fun!
At Bottesford, the WAAFs were far more tight lipped and serious. Pleasant enough and tolerant to we cadets, but acutely conscious of living in an adult and at times brutal world where death, injuries and bereavement were just round the corner, perhaps that very night.
There would be empty spaces in the dispersals and men busy cleaning up the plane interiors as well as patching flak and bullet damage. The more senior cadets would help wherever possible whilst the more junior cadets were taken to less dramatic chores. We grew up fast, very fast at times.
On the subject of favourite crews, 207 was beginning to create its heroes and its legends. One of these was a Canadian Air Force pilot. In actual fact he was an American who, at the outbreak of war had crossed into Canada and joined the RCAF. He had come to England and was posted to 5 Group and was one of the chosen to form 207 at Waddington. A superb pilot he had built up a first class Manchester crew and was well into his second tour of operations. Around this time, the German Navy was becoming a prime target for the RAF and although daylight raids had proved suicidal, the growing threat of the German battleships such as the Tirpitz and the Bismark on our Atlantic conveys was calling for desperate action. The call was for low level daylight attacks to be practiced, and low level flying was what this American loved. His idea of a pleasant Sunday morning’s jaunt was to do just what the powers that be wanted. If they wanted low flying that would suit him down to the ground (in all senses of the word!) Several cadets had come back telling how he preferred to fly [underlined] round [/underlined] trees rather than lifting up to fly over them. Since I was usually the NCO in charge of the Bottesford parties, I nearly always allowed the other cadets to go up on any available flight tests, navigation or low flying exercises, but eventually my turn came and I was delighted when the American came out and climbed in. Of [sic] we went, hedge hopping our way down to the Fens to the consternation of man and beast. There are few things more mind blowing than having a Manchester, of worse still a Lancaster, suddenly roaring over your head, fifty feet up and doing two hundred mph. The Lanc although quitter at height, gave little or no warning of its approach when ‘down on the deck’.
I had managed to grab the mid upper turret, the best place to be when you are practising map reading but this is not easy when tree tops get in the way of your view! According to my air map there were some H.T. lines ahead. We are still at fifty feet. With some temerity, I decide to warn the pilot. Pilot grunts. Still no change of altitude. Pylons appear ahead. We stay at fifty feet. Generally speaking, breathing stops. H.T. cables pass [underlined] over [/underlined] our heads. Breathing recommences. It was therefore no surprise to me to learn a year or so later that Joe Macarthy and his crew were among the first to be poached by Guy Gibson when the time came for him to form 617 Squadron.
By late spring of 1941, we were not only welcome at Bottesford but, when there was some sort of a ‘flap’ on they actually started to ask us to lend a hand. These were usually ‘ops’ and sometimes, for security reasons, we were not allowed to leave the station until after take off. At other times, they asked us to come on the Saturday and be prepared to stay overnight, in which case we were allocated a Nissen hut in one of the dispersal areas. As senior Sergeant now, I was usually put in charge of such parties and once again my previous experience in the OTC and Air Cadet Wing camps came in useful. Having drawn mattresses, blankets etc, the cadets needed to be introduced into the niceties of blanket and sheet folding, pillow and personal gear arrangement and display. ‘Fatigues’ were allocated, the inevitable Magnet Stove coaxed into reluctant and smoky life, the fire bucket relieved of its fag ends, after which we could get on with the war!
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Once on site, we were treated just like the other airmen and joined parties marching off to the mess halls. (It is interesting to reflect on the fact that in those days one never ‘proceeded’ as an individual, one invariably marched as a group.
After nearly three quarters of a century, certain events stand out in one’s memory as clear as a bell, others are completely lost and many although well remembered, are difficult to pin down as to time and place. Not so the 29th of May that year. This was the night when the RAF made history and 47(F) did their bit to make it so. It started when we received a call for as many cadets to go to Bottesford as possible, prepared to stay overnight. When we arrived it became obvious that the ‘flap beyond all flaps’ was on. Every aircraft capable of flying had to fly. Over at the bomb dumps we loaded the inevitable incendiaries. Machine gun belts were filled in the armament section and as usual we lifted, held, took, carried and cleaned up. Engines roared and meals were snatched. Eventually the aircrews were called to briefing. On arrival were [sic] had been warned that no one must make any contact with the outside world and the reason for the flap would be explained later.
When the time came for 207 to take off, the skies were already filling. In addition to the local 5 Group aircraft, they started climbing up from the west which was Operational Training Unit’s airspace, which was strange.
Tired out, we staggered off to our Nissen hut with the promise that all would be made clear in the morning. We were not to see the headlines in the papers until later on in the day, but at a collective briefing just after breakfast, we were told that the RAF had made its first ‘Thousand Bomber Raid’ on Cologne, and 47(F) had been there to help.
Naturally our visits to Bottesford were the highlights of our ATC weeks, but back at our Grantham H.Q. many other things were going on apace. Following the introduction of the new ATC Training Programme and associated training manuals, came the Proficiency Certificate tests. Having by now become an instructor in quite a few subjects, as I was still technically a cadet, it obviously seemed right that I should pass my Part 1 as soon as possible. There was therefore a lot of swotting up on the part of the NCOs and senior cadets to get their four bladed propeller badges indicating that they were ‘Proficient’. There were a number of categories, Pilot/Observer, Wireless Operator, Flight Mechanic (Engines) etc., as well as those for ground trades.
The pilot/Observer syllabus now included a first introduction into Astronavigation, as well as the usual Dead Reckoning Air Plots, Map Reading Exercises etc.. For the Part 1 Certificate Astronavigation only involved the recognition of the principle constellations and individually important stars.
Being now very much of a ‘county boy’ (our family having moved away from the Luftwaffe’s bombing run in 1940) the night sky had become a great fascination to me. Britain was still a domestic coal burning society with central heating being almost unheard of, and we were often beset with autumnal ‘pea souper’ fogs. At many other times of the year the sky could be crystal clear. With the imposition of the total blackout, there was no [underlined] ‘light pollution’ as we know it today. Also, our night vision was far better than it is today since there were no flashing vehicle headlamps to blind us, since all road users (cyclists included) had to hood their lights so that nothing shone above the horizontal.
It was usually well on into the autumn before we could start on star identification. With the imposition of Double Summer Time in the summer months and ‘single’ Summer Time in the winter months (to help the factory workers enjoy a bit of evening after their overtime) it never became properly dark until after evening parades had dismissed. When we could go out into the parade ground for star identification, it was usually well into the winter months, and here I mean real winter. Not the snow free, late autumn, global warming, cold snaps we chose to regard as winter today. having memorised one or two of our Star Charts we would, on a fine cloud free night, go out and first identify the Plough whose ‘Pointers’ would guide us to the Pole Star. Dependant [sic] upon the month, we would go on to identify the constellation of Cygnus, the Swan whose nose, tail and wing tip stars would be so vital in the astronavigation to follow. The Square of Pegasus, Leo the Lion and when the Orion group came above the eastern horizon, to really show one’s prowess in star identification by identifying the Pleiades and see if you could count more than seven.
Of course this was most important if you were intending to be a Navigator on the first steps to mastering astronavigation. At the same time it was felt vital by the RAF that [underlined] anyone [/underlined] in the aircrew could make the difference between life and death if he could, by the briefest of glimpses through a break in the clouds, identify Month and then West, the way home for a crippled aircraft whose other navigational aids had either failed or had been destroyed by enemy fire.
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[photograph]
A.T.C. Form 3
[crest]
AIR TRAINING CORPS.
Certificate of Proficiency
Part 1
This is to Certify that
Cadet Flight Sergeant Peter Desmond Stevenson of No. 47.F. (Grantham) Squadron is granted a Certificate of Proficiency in that , during his membership of the Air Training Corps, he has fulfilled the necessary conditions as to efficient service and has qualified in the Pilot/Observer syllabus of training, as laid down in the Rules and Regulations of the Air Training Corps.
[signature]
Air Commodore
Commandant, Air Training Corps.
Date 11-2-1942
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[underlined] The 1942 Summer Camp at RAF Bottesford [/underlined]
With the threat of invasion now safely behind us, ATC HQ in conjunction with the Air Ministry decided to hold, wherever possible, summer cadet camps at local RAF stations. Numbers would be limited and there would be much competition for the places. At Bottesford there would be a one week camp for twelve cadets with an officer in charge. In the event none of our officers could get away on the week involved, but in view of our experience in running our own Nissen, they were quite prepared to accept a senior cadet NCO as camp leader.
Eventually a short list was established and the cadet’s employers were persuaded to allow the cadets concerned an extra week’s holiday. (War time holiday allocations were limited to one week ‘for the duration’). My own firm by this time, was a strong supporter of our Squadron and I had no difficulty in making sure that I was on the list, which ended up with me being in charge.
As luck would have it, my written report of the following week’s activities is still in existence and as a result I can give a blow by blow account of a most wonderful week.
On Saturday 16th May, the chosen few assembled at Cadet H.Q. complete with kitbags and gear for the week. A camp lorry took these out, while we cycled out in commendable order befitting the occasion. (We needed our bikes because everything at Bottesford was always a long way from anywhere else). ‘Arriving at the Guard Room at ’13.00 hrs’ (etc., etc.) we assembled before being marched off to our camp site. It would seem that the concept of a summer camp was taken literally. Fully expecting to reoccupy our Nissen on the far side of the ‘drome, we were slightly surprised to find ourselves in a tented camp more or less opposite to the Station Headquarters. Here had been set up a small marquee which became our ‘Orderly Room’ and store for spare kit, four bell tents for our accommodation, and another for our bikes. Bedding was delivered and an attack made on the resulting chaos, since in addition to three barrack room ‘biscuits’, two sheets, a pillow and pillow case apiece, we were issued with no less than six blankets each. They obviously didn’t intend us feeling cold.
Our party comprised three sergeants who occupied the Senior NCOs tent, a corporal and two cadets in No.1 tent, four cadets in No.2 Tent and the other three cadets in No.3 tent, so we had plenty of room. Thanks to my Twezledown and Selsea camp experience, and our overnight stays in the Nissen, we lost no time in telling the airmen who had been detailed to look after us that we were quite capable of running our own camp. Order was ultimately achieved, just in time for ‘tea’ to be declared.
After that, the rest of the day was declared ‘free’. The more energetically disposed went off to the exercise area and the assault course, while the less so, opted for the NAAFI. Sgts Kirk and Rudkin and myself had all passed the Pilot/Observer’s Proficiency Part 1 earlier on in the year and we were getting lined up for the first Proficiency Part 2 examinations. These were going to take place in July, so that any spare time for us this week would be devoted to swotting.
Reveille was ordered for 06.30, but being the first day of camp, it was no great surprise to find all ranks were already exercising themselves on the station assault course by 06.00 (somehow this enthusiasm was not repeated on subsequent mornings!). having set our camp to rights, we made our way over to No.2 Airmen’s Mess which was about half a mile away – Bottesford was well dispersed and most things seemed to be at least half a mile from anywhere else! Back at our camp, we readied ourselves for Kit Inspection, but as our Oi/c Camp was also Duty Officer for the whole station, that duty fell upon myself, so I borrowed the dignity of an inspecting officer and regarded all efforts (including my own) with appropriate severity.
We were expecting to be sent off to the hangars and elsewhere for the usual ‘Fetch and Carry’ duties which normally preceded a chance for a flight, when we were ordered to report to the Station Adjutant in the HQ. He told us to divide into two groups. One group, comprising our Wireless Operator/Air Gunners and other trades, was to report to the Station Signals Section for a morning’s instruction on aircraft wireless equipment. The other group, Pilot/Observer, was again to divide into two smaller groups, one to report to A Flight Commander, the other to B Flight. (By this time, almost all the Mancesters had been replaced by Lancasters)
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Since A Flight was not flying that morning, we were taken to the AML Bomb Trainer where we were instructed on how to use the new Automatic Bomb Sight which was just coming into service. Having dropped ‘three sticks’ apiece, we went over to the Spotlight Trainer for half an hour’s Turret gunnery practice. This was a concrete dome shaped building, in the centre of which was a mid upper turret connected to an external hydraulic power generator. Using a projector, the instructor could flash onto the interior of the dome, either a spot of light or the silhouette of a fighter aircraft. In the case of the latter one had first to decide its identity ([underlined] before it [/underlined] shot [underlined] you [/underlined] down) then follow it with a spotlight projected from the turret gun cluster and ‘fire’, having allowed the appropriate ‘deflection’.
This would all be accompanied by a lot of Merlin engine noise and gunfire as appropriate, according to whether you were shooting at it, or it was shooting at you. The only things missing was the turret being thrown all over the sky as your skipper ‘weaved’, and the smell of cordite from your guns. All very exciting. This was followed by a very interesting session when we ‘assisted’ in the compass swinging procedure for one of the newly delivered Lancs. Stationed in the centre of a circle round which were marked the various ‘True’ headings from True North clockwise round the compass, the aircraft was carefully turned to various key headings and the readings of the on board compasses compared. The errors caused by the various bits of magnetic material in the aircraft were duly noted to produce the Deviation Chart, vital for accurate courses to be calculated by the Navigator. All valuable knowledge for those of us hoping to get a question on Variation and Deviation in our Proficiency Part 2 exam and for me as part of my Navigation Instructors lecturing.
While all this was going on, the cadets attached to B Flight were having an equally exciting time. Bomber Command was hoping that the extra speed, firepower and range of the Lancaster would enable them to mount daylight attacks once more after the disasters of the early war Wellington attacks, had forced the bombing offensive into night operations. It was back to low level flying singly, and in formation. This morning it had been a one and a half hour low flying practice, ending with a low level bombing run over a bombing range.
After lunch two cadets went on a night flying test, and since 207 Sq. was on operations that night some cadets went on the Link Blind Flying Trainer for a while and the rest of us dispersed into the hangers [sic] to make ourselves useful.
All very thrilling, but not quite what we had expected. I never knew whether the week we had at Bottesford was a result of direction from ‘upon high’ or whether it was Bottesford thanking us for services previously rendered. It was probably a bit of both.
The following day there was even more flying for the cadets with formation flying, low level flying and bombing runs over the Clifton Pastures bombing range near Nottingham. Sgts Kirk, Rudkin and myself, anxious to hone up our navigation skills, opted to spend most of the day in the Navigation Section, totally absorbed in plots on air maps of the U.K and the Continent, and working out the routes recorded in the navigator’s logs of some of the old Manchester raids.
The next morning, having drawn overalls, the main party went across to No.4 hangar where a brand new Lancaster was to receive a pre-service checkover. Two cadets joined engine fitters on each of the four Merlins, two to the inside of the fuselage and two more for the exterior. In spite of the fact that the aircraft had been rigorously inspected at the factory before it was test flown and delivered, nothing was taken for granted and its acceptance check took most of the day. At lunch, several cadets remarked on how clean and ‘new’ it smelled. (Everyone who has had contact with Lancasters will agree that they had a special smell, especially when they were new. A combination of new paint, aircraft dope, hydraulic fluid, gun belt lubricant and less identifiable smells, and these will persist through out its life. To these will be added the smells associated with its service life, some of which are far less pleasant. Cordite fumes, the rear end of the fuselage just forward of the tail plain where the Elsan lost its contents during violent manoeuvres, elsewhere other traces of the effects of air sickness, fear and wounding, persist in spite of careful cleaning by ground staff. Even today, one has only to poke one’s nose through the door of ‘Just Jane’, East Kirkby’s taxiable Lanc of the BBMF’s flying Lanc and the mind flashes back)
We three Sergeants reported once more to the Navigation Section where we were to be given a navigation problem to work out. However, plans were changed and we went off on another low flying exercise in the Squadron’s last Manchester, which called for some exciting map reading, made just a little more difficult by nearby trees obscuring the more distant landmarks! The flight finished with us leaving our visiting cards at the Clifton Pastures Range.
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In the afternoon, all the others went of [sic] on yet more low flying exercises. So far as I can remember, these were all part of the Augsburg, Capital Ship Bomb, and the Tirpitz/Scharnhorst/Gneisenau urges and purges at the time. We decided to take our plotting problem back to our ‘Orderly Room’ and work away at that for the afternoon.
Thursday was one of my last ‘day release’ days at my Technical College before the end of the year examinations, and granted leave of absence, I left my two Sergeants in charge. In the morning, all went flying again. Since the Squadron was on ops that night, the afternoon was declared ‘free’ but I understood that they made themselves useful again.
Bad weather on the Friday grounded all flying, so we all adjourned to the Armaments Section for a lecture on the Browning Turret Guns followed by participation in one of the station’s periodic anti-gas exercises. The weather improved after lunch, and most of the cadets got a forty five minute flight in night flying tests after the previous night’s operations. We had hoped, as the week progressed, that we might get at least one night flight, but operations and the weather prevented this. However, in compensation for this, most of us were given the chance to take over the controls. (The Mk.1 Lancs still had dual controls). Thanks to the Link Trainers at Spittlegate and Bottesford, most of us could by now, maintain a reasonably straight course and execute some modest Rate One Turns without dropping the nose. Suddenly holding the same in a twenty ton 4000hp, 100ft wing span monster doing one hundred and fifty mile per hour was a rather different matter to being in the Link Trainer humming away in an otherwise quiet room! However, we did not disgrace ourselves and managed ‘straight and level’, some gentle turns and quite creditable figures of eights.
On the Saturday, our final day, we had a camp inspection by 207’s Commanding Officer, after which we struck camp and got our gear packed away. This was followed by a final flip in flight tests for that night’s operations. We were then told to report to Station H.Q, where the Station Commander, accompanied by the Adjutant, the Station Warrant Officer and the two Flight Commanders, gave us a farewell ‘pep talk’, after which it was back to ‘civvie street’.
What a week it had been! One little statistic from my camp report – The thirteen cadets involved, clocked up a total of one hundred and ten and a half hours flying time between us!
This was now the end of May 1942, and the next priority so far as we three Sergeants were concerned, was the count down to the Proficiency Part 2 examinations in a couple of months time. ATC H.Q. had warned us that the various papers would all be tough ones and that the pass marks would be high. Also, since we would be in the first group of cadets to enter for the examinations, our performances would be regarded as the bench mark for subsequent exams. It therefore behove us to be as prepared as we could be.
There would be papers on the Principles of Flight, Aeroengines and Airframe Construction, Aircraft Recognition, Law and Administration, Anti Gas, Hygiene and two papers on Air Navigation and Meteorology. Failure in any one of these subjects would result in a ‘Fail’ for the whole examination. The examination, lasting two full days, would be held at the RAF’s No.2 I.T.W. at Cambridge and all ATC Squadrons were warned not to submit candidates unless they stood a good chance of passing.
On August 3rd 1942, Sgts Kirk, Rudkin and myself went to Cambridge by train, and by 11.00 we were at the gates of Emmanuel College which was to be our billet for the next three nights. There we met up with eight cadets from No.1045 (Wolverhampton) Squadron, which was the only other Squadron to submit candidates. Having been allocated rooms in the University Student’s Wing, we found our way to the Dining Hall for our midday (and subsequent) meals. The rest of the day was declared free, which I put to good use visiting relatives.
The following morning, a 7am breakfast called for a 6am reveille. Hoping for the best and fearing the worst, we formed up and marched across town to the Cambridge Union Society Examination Rooms (where many a promising academic career has crashed in flames).
Our first paper started at 09.00, Principles of Flight, which went well so far as I was concerned, although I did detect signs of stress elsewhere in the room. Without a break, we went onto the second paper which was ‘Engines’. Every question seemed to be just what was wanted, but again that happened to be my opinion. After a half hour break, we had a one hour paper on Anti Gas. Having marched back to Emmanuel for lunch, and back again to the exams room, a one hour paper on Law and Administration, followed by a half hour paper on Hygiene, which also included some questions on First Aid.
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A.T.C. Form 3A.
657
[ATC Crest]
AIR TRAINING CORPS.
Certificate of Proficiency
PART II.
This is to Certify that
Cadet Flight Sergeant Peter Desmond Stevenson of No. 47.F. (Grantham) Squadron/[deleted] Flight [/deleted]
Is granted a Certificate of Proficiency in that during his membership of the Air Training Corps, he:-
(i) has satisfactorily completed the course of Proficiency Part II Training;
(ii) has passed the examinations in the following subjects and obtained the percentage marks as shown:-
(a) Air Navigation and Meteorology 67%
(b) Principles of Flight 85%
(c) Engines 100%
(d) Aircraft Recognition 96%
(e) Law and Administration 80%
(f) Anti-gas 86%
(g) Hygiene 84%
By Command of the Air Council
[signature]
Dated at the Air Ministry
this 4th/5th day of August 1942.
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That was more than enough for one day and amidst groans from the Wolverhampton cadets we staggered back to Emmanuel. The three of us felt that we had done reasonably well, but the main hurdle would be next morning.
True enough, the two hour paper on Air Navigation and Meteorology was a right [***censored][sic]. The questions looked innocent enough but they all seemed to have hidden traps. Faces were long at the mid morning break, and nerves were somewhat shattered for the final paper on Aircraft Recognition. However, we three did well and by that time we had little sympathy for the Wolverhampton group as it was quite obvious that they had been nothing like ready enough. When results were declared, every one of them failed and I understood later that their Squadron got a rocket from ATC H.Q. for entering cadets who, in the majority of cases, were just not up to it, and had therefore wasted a lot of RAF money and time.
Sadly, although the other two did well on all the other papers, they just missed the pass mark for Navigation, and so they too did not get their hoped for pass. My own marks in the two Navigation papers I must admit, were nothing to be proud about, but at least they were a pass. This, coupled with good marks in all my other subjects, meant that 47(F) could at least claim that one of their cadets managed to bring home the very first Air Training Corps Proficiency Part 2 to be awarded.
Although only a partial success, this represented my ‘good news’ for the summer of 1942. Now for the bad news. The Navigation paper was not the only brute of a paper I sat that summer. My engineering studies had been going on all this time, which of course represented what should have been my main priority, and by the summer of 1942 I was coming to the end of my fourth year of the five year Higher National Certificate course.
It was usual practice for the College to frame the questions for the examination at the end of the Spring Term on the basis that this would be a ‘mock’ for the end of year examinations.
I passed the spring exams with good marks in all subjects and hind sight, I suppose this should have been a warning. in the end of year exams, three out of the four papers were comparatively easy and apparently I did well in them, but the fourth was definitely a ‘so and so’, and none of us did well. In that subject, the spring paper had dealt with aspects in which I was able to perform well and I had achieved high marks, but the summer paper seemed aimed at all those aspects I [sic] which I was nothing like so confident. Net result, I missed that subject by [underlined] one [/underlined] mark!
This was unquestionably disaster. The Institute of Mechanical Engineers who were the ultimate authority in the Higher National Certificate and Diploma courses, were at that time, absolutely adamant that their Corporate Membership qualification (i.e. ‘Chartered Mechanical Engineer’) should never be lowered in quality and prestige by the ‘exigencies of war’. At each and every stage, a student [underlined] must pass each and every subject [/underlined] before he is permitted to progress to the next stage, and that [underlined] this edict must apply equally in peace or war [/underlined].
For two years now, I had been ‘Deferred’ by the Joint Selection Board in order to gain the necessary technical qualification, on the strict understanding that I should indeed pass at each stage. Now, this one mark had failed me for the whole ‘4th Year’ and if I wanted to progress to the final year and eventual Corporate Membership status, [underlined] then I must take the whole 4th Year again [/underlined].
As usual, I had to appear before the Selection Board in the early September to report my progress (or lack of it!) They were not pleased. [underlined] They were not at all pleased [/underlined]. Of course, I also had to report on all that had happened in the ATC for which I submitted written reports. They congratulated me on my attaining Proficiency Certificate Part 1 and Part 2 and my appointment as Navigation Instructor etc., but made it very clear that creditable though it all might be, that was not what I was being deferred for. I was told to wait outside while they discussed my fate. I could well imagine the words on my documents which said ‘Recommended for consideration for a Commission in the Technical Branch’ being firmly crossed out and the words ‘Immediate Call Up – A.C.2’ being substituted. They still had hard faces when I was eventually called back in, but to my immense relief they had decided to give me a last chance. My progress in general they said, was acceptable, but I would be allowed to take my fourth year course again, [underlined] provided [/underlined] my technical studies were given absolute priority – in other words [underlined] more study [/underlined] and [underlined] less cadets. [/underlined]
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Suitably chastised, I returned home to pick up the pieces. It was difficult not to feel somewhat bored when one had to go back to the starting point on those subjects in which one had done reasonably well. However, I took their admonishments to heart and on balance, when I did move forward again a year later, I am sure that the repeat of this year was a definite benefit. Trying to look on the bright side, I did console myself with the fact that right at the beginning, my exemption from the first year of the course meant that I had been a year ahead in age terms.
Following the usual August break, cadet parades resumed again in the September with new recruits to ‘break in’ and the usual revision and ‘smartening up’ of the older cadets which characterised the beginning of another year of training. My own setback had no effect upon the fortunes of the Squadron of course, but the bad news so far as the Squadron was concerned was still to come.
As soon as we resumed our visits to Bottesford, we were informed that there were plans afoot to move 207 Squadron to another airfield. Bottesford had been initially constructed around a typical grass airfield which was quite suitable for the likes of the Hampden bombers of the early war years. Following the introduction of the ‘heavies’ with their steadily increasing all up weights, even the construction of a stop gap concrete runway could not disguise the fact that the airfield was breaking up under the strain.
It was quite a body blow when we were told that Bottesford was going to be closed for a complete ‘airfield work over’ for the provision of a full set of ‘heavy duty’ concrete runways and that 207 Squadron was going to move, lock, stock and barrel, over to RAF Langar, just to the east of Nottingham. Langar was however, the ‘property’ of Nottingham’s ATC Squadrons and our attachment could not move over with 207.
They couldn’t do this to us! 207 Squadron belonged to 47(F) Squadron! But war is war and postings are postings, whether we like it or not. So the Autumn of 1942 was the end of one era but it was also the beginning of another.
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[underlined] Chapter Nine 47(F) and RAF Syerston 1942-43 [/underlined]
207 Squadron’s move from Bottesford to Langar had left us without attachment. In the meantime, the number of cadets coming into Grantham from villages to the south had steadily increased and in order to reduce the distance cadets were having to cycle in and back, we had started a Colsterworth Flight. The village of Colsterworth lies some nine miles to the south of Grantham, and the opening of a new flight there would also increase our catchment area. We could now enrol cadets from villages further to the south which were now within cycling distance of Colsterworth. I must admit that I have little or nothing to contribute to the history of the Colsterworth Flight. Its inauguration came at a time when I was up to my neck with my studies, apprenticeship commitments, and affairs at the Grantham HQ. Our CO was a great believer in the delegation of responsibility [underlined] and [/underlined] authority, and apart from the occasional supply of specialist instructors from time to time, he had every confidence in the capability of the Oi/c Colsterworth to run his Flight without unnecessary interference from Grantham HQ. As a result of this policy, I personally had very little contact with them.
RAF Spittlegate were now able to take a few cadets at weekends and they agreed to the attachment of the Colsterworth Flight to them. Even if we had wanted to do so, there was no room for the main Squadron to return to a Spittlegate attachment.
All of which left us somewhat in the air (or on the ground if you prefer) Thanks to the close relationship which our C.O. had maintained with 5 Group H.Q., we were not long before we had a new attachment. This time it was to a newly acquired 5 Group Station, RAF Syerston, between Newark and Nottingham.
At the beginning of the war, Lincolnshire and the more easterly parts of Nottinghamshire, had been the home to two Bomber Groups. In the south had been No.5 Group (Hampdens) with its H.Q in Grantham, and in the north No.1 Group (mainly Wellingtons) with its H.Q. at Bawtry. As Bomber Command expanded, more new squadrons were formed than there were new airfields to accommodate them. By 1942, 1 Group were expanding more in North Lincolnshire and 5 Group, in addition to gaining newly constructed stations (such as Bottesford), were also taking over some of the more southerly stations of 1 Group’s erstwhile territory, and RAF Syerston was one of these.
Syerston had been one of the last ‘Golden Age’ stations, with elegantly designed buildings and hangars. It had come into service in mid 1940 and had been the home of 408 Sq., a Polish squadron which had used Fairey Battles to ‘work up’ into RAF procedures before converting to Wellingtons and moving north in December 1940. (Incidentally, I never knew until years after the war had ended that the Poles had their own ATC Squadrons in which instruction was carried out in both English and Polish) For the next sixteen months Syerston had gone into ‘Care and Maintenance’ while the airfield received a full set of heavy duty runways. In the late Spring of 1942, the station came back into service with the arrival of its first 5 Group Lancaster squadron.
In early 1939, No.61 Squadron, then at RAF Hemswell, had converted from Blenheims to Hampdens. It moved down to South Lincolnshire in 1941, where it converted to Manchesters. Then having converted to Lancasters, it moved into the newly commissioned Syerston.
Three months later, they were joined by No.106 Squadron. Like No.61, they also had WW1 origins. 106 was reformed in 1938 in the south of England,. Briefly, it came back to Cottesmore for a couple of months while it converted to Hampdens. It spent 1940, at Finningley, and most of 1941 at Coningsby where it converted to Manchester, before it replaced these with Lancasters. By this time, it had begun to acquire its reputation as one of 5 Group’s most prestigious and accomplished squadrons. At Coningsby it had also acquired as Commanding Officer, a Wing Commander Guy. P. Gibson (also of later fame!) which may have had something to do with it. In September 1942, 106 Sq. Moved over to Syerston, and shortly afterwards 47(F) started lending them a hand!
The significance of events is rarely obvious at the time of their occurrence. When it was announced that we would be attached to Syerston, I suppose we took it more or less for granted. I am sure at the time we thought it would be a bit of a let down. No one, we felt could possibly match up to ‘our’ 207 Squadron. How wrong we were, and it took a remarkably short time for it to sink in. In the years to follow, I have often pondered on how we came to get this ‘plum’ posting. I know that our CO had a remarkable flair for ‘Cultivating People in High Places’ and no doubt he had a good deal to do with it.
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At the same time, the hand of Sir Arthur Longmore may well have twisted the occasional elbow. Perhaps too, reports to Group H.Q. of our doings at Bottesford had not gone unnoticed. Maybe it was a combination of all three. Certainly, there were nearer stations to which we could have been attached, and certainly there were other ATC Squadrons nearer to Syerston.
There was no question of us being able to cycle from Grantham, so on our first visit there we were waiting expectantly for the arrival of a truck to take us the twenty or so miles across country. We had a good idea of where it was but the wartime travel restrictions (“Is Your Journey Really Necessary” etc) had meant that we had no real idea of how the station had progressed since its construction had started before the war but had not been completed until relatively recently. The station still exists today, even if it is no longer an operational flying station apart from being an ATC Gliding School. From the A46 main road, the woodland which surround it, still give no indication of the station’s size. One can still see the edges of married quarters as you approach from the south, and as you pass through the camp from the north, the Officer’s Mess and married quarters are on the east side and on the west can be seen the Guard Room, a few of the admin buildings and the end of one hangar. The end of one of the runways comes up to the road but the curve of the ground obscures all other view of the airfield proper.
This was more less [sic] the same initial view we got of Syerston when we first rolled into the station back in 1942. We went through the usual formalities at the Guard Room and were guided up to the Adjutant’s Office where we were placed in the hands of the poor soul who had been given the job of looking after us for the day. As with our first visit to Bottesford, we had the feeling that they were not quite sure what to do with us, but we soon got down to business.
We explained what we had done at Bottesford and they proposed that the first step was to take us on a tour of the station. I think perhaps that I should have explain [sic] that the parties which went out to Bottesford and now to Syerston, were nearly always our older, more experienced cadets who had reached the age of Registration and therefore had more or less decided their aircrew or ground trade categories when the time came for their callup. Visits to RAF Stations were always considered as privileges to be earned. From time to time younger cadets would be included partly to make up numbers but principally to give them an idea of what they could look forward to.
We had already realised that the station itself was a much more ‘up market’ affair than Bottesford. Where Bottesford had grass, Syerston had lawns. The buildings were elegant and neatly arranged. The hangars were vast and their workshops designed into them rather than being in ‘add on’ huts. Lancasters were everywhere. Bottesford had been a one squadron station with between twenty and thirty Lancasters at any given time. Syerston, being a two squadron station, had between fifty and sixty. Not that we could see them all at the same time because, like Bottesford, there were dispersal areas all round the perimeter, many of them tucked away in the many surrounding woods. The bomb dumps we [sic] also twice the size and since the RAF were now bigger and better big bangers, their stock of ‘cookies’ were even more impressive.
What became increasingly obvious, was a difference in atmosphere. Our stay at Bottesford had been at a time when targets were varied, calling for equally varied tactics. We had passed though [sic] the leaflets dropping and mine laying eras, the low level preparations for possible daylight raids, and the early exploratory experiments in the use of electronic navigation, target finding and marking aids. Now, in late 1942, a far more single minded approach to air warfare was being entered. This, in time, would lead to the Battles of Hamburg, the Ruhr and Berlin, and Syerston’s job was to ‘take out’ the industrial potential of the Third Reich. The enemy’s potential to strike back had increased proportionately. The Luftwaffe now had radar equipped night fighters and sophisticated radar aided ground control systems and our losses were mounting. Syerston was definitely a station in which ‘kill and/or be killed’ was an every night affair, a station on which flying was no longer fun but all too often a grim reality.
By the end of our second visit, we had more or less dropped into the same routines with the ground trades going into the hangars, armaments sections and the like, while the aircrew candidates went to their equivalents. Wherever possible, we ‘got stuck in’ and made sure we had earned the chance of a back seat in a test flight. Most of these flights were generally short, relatively speaking, as both squadrons were not [underlined] practising [/underlined] for anything, apart from breaking in replacement crews. Inevitably, some of us ended up in the bomb dumps loading incendiaries and other menial chores in the hangars, but we were not there to be entertained.
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Again it was not long before we were welcomed rather than tolerated. For myself, once the routine had been established, I tended to send other Sergeants over in charge of the parties, and only once in a while went over with them to see how things were going. As a result, events at Syerston have remained less clear in my mind. My main reason for doing so was that a visit there was always a full day’s job, and I needed my Sunday afternoons for my technical studies. So, more and more, my Sunday mornings were spent in our Grantham HQ, either instructing or relieving other NCOs to go to Syerston.
[underlined] No.830 Company Girl’s Training Corps [/underlined]
By mid 1942, male conscription had settled down to a steady flow of boys into the three Services. The Sea Cadets, the Army Cadets and the ATC were all feeding their senior services with increasingly capable recruits who knew their basic drill and basic skills. Conscription had also begun for women over the age of eighteen. Most of them would be directed into war work, nursing and the Land Army etc., but a significant proportion were going into the Wrens, ATC and the WAAF. The three Services complained that there seemed to be no pre-service training organisation to give equivalent pre-entry skills to their women entrants. At the same time none seemed prepared to allow girls to enter their Cadet units. This was of course in an age when segregation of the sexes was still considered essential ‘on moral grounds’.
Without further research, I have no idea of when, where and how the idea of a Girls Training Corps came to fruition. It started, and for most of the rest of the war years, existed in a state more or less equivalent to the early days of the Air Defence Cadet Corps i.e. a largely voluntary organisation which the Services assisted, but only nominally supported financially. It depended almost totally on local financial and material fund raising. Its aims were to give girls below conscription age, basis [sic] skills in nursing and general care, first aid, cookery and ‘good citizenship’ (whatever that meant). On top of that, those girls who, upon Registration opted for one of the Services, would be taught basic foot drill and the basics of that role in which they would serve when the time came for their callup.
Once the idea was proposed, the Girls Training Corps quickly blossomed and spread. As with the early days of the ADCC, the first units (called ‘Companies’) were formed in the south. It was some time before the idea spread to Lincolnshire, but in November 1942, the Grantham Journal reported that a Girl’s Training Corps Company was to be formed in Grantham. Now at this point I need to introduce two personalities, one new and another whom we met earlier on in this narrative.
You may remember back in the early days of the Grantham Squadron, the sub-editor of the Grantham Journal had always given us valuable publicity. Not only that, she had volunteered herself into being our Squadron secretary. For the last three years she had kept us, our records and [underlined] her [/underlined] Orderly Room in good order and discipline. Small dumpy and efficient, Miss Llewellyn-Owens had charm and a definite way with things and when she was called upon to report on the proposed formation of a GTC Company in Grantham, she did a lot more than just report. The other personality was in distinct contrast. One often meets people who are large both in personality and stature. Grantham’s Mrs. Brace was both, collecting and ruling her numerous committees with much verve and vigour. Where our Miss Owens persuaded, Mrs Brace commanded. While Mrs Brace drummed up support, Miss Owens proceeded to persuade, and the first person she persuaded was our C.O. who was ‘invited’ to attend an inaugural meeting which took place a few weeks later.
Grantham had no Sea Cadets and the Army Cadets were still finding their feet, so Miss Owen was determined that if there was any serious talk of cooperation, it was going to be with the ATC. It would seem that history had again a tendency to repeat itself. The meeting was held
Mrs Brace was the obvious candidate for Commanding Officer, Miss Owens became Adjutant (and later second in command). The ATC Commanding Officer was invited to comment and he promptly offered the full cooperation of his squadron’s facilities in those fields of instruction where there would be common interest. Furthermore, until such time as the new GTC Company could find a home of their own, they could use the ATC Headquarters on those nights and other times when they were not in use by the ATC.
At this point I would like to step aside to air some recent concern within 47(F)’s command structure. As the age of conscription was raised, we had lost a number of our younger Flight Commanders but over the four years of the Squadron’s existence since its inauguration, the Commanding Officer, the Adjutant, two of the Flight Commanders and the Squadron Warrant Officer had remained the same.
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[paper cutting]
[underlined] GIRLS TRAINING CORPS COMPANY TO BE FORMED IN GRANTHAM [/underlined]
[indecipherable word]
Registered as a Newspaper 1942 FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 13[inserted]th 1942 [/inserted]
BY-PASS ROAD MYSTERY
Cause Of Soldier’s Death Unknown
BELIEVED TO HAVE “JUMPED” LORRY
The death of L/Bdr. James Edward Moseley, 24, Church-street, Smallthorne, Stoke-on-Trent, who was found lying on the Colsterworth by-pass on the night of October 16-17th, with severe injuries, which proved fatal, is still an unsolved mystery.
The deputy borough coroner, Mr. C.Y.L. Caleraft, at the resumed inquest on Friday, stated death ‘was caused by shock and toxaemia, following injuries’. He was, however, unable to bring in a verdict of how the injuries were caused, though a theory was put forward that deceased had “jumped” a lorry, stunned himself in getting off, and had been run over by another vehicle.
PC Beech said he arrived 300 yards south of the railway bridge on the by-pass at 12.50 a.m. on October 17th. He examined the deceased who had been moved by lorry drivers to the side of the road and found him suffering from extensive injuries. He was conscious and asked if he was off the road saying “Don’t let them run over me again”. In reply to witness’s questioning, Moseley said he had been to Grantham and had returned on a lorry, but did not know how he had met with an accident. His injuries, added witness, suggested that he had been run over. Soldiers were in the habit of taking lifts on passing lorries, sometimes without the drivers knowing.
POLICE EFFORTS UNAVAILING
George Edward Pallister, West Hartlepool, lorry driver, explained that late on the night of October 16th he was driving through Colsterworth and in the light of his headlamps saw an object lying on the road. He skirted it, drew up and found it was a soldier, lying with his head touching the kerb and his feet directly across the road. Two other lorries came up, and together they moved the soldier and covered him with coats, while one driver went for an ambulance and the police.
The efforts made by the police to find anyone who had any knowledge of the accident, were described by Inspector Taylor, who said he telephoned Biggleswade and asked them to stop all vehicles proceeding south, to examine them for bloodstains, etc., and interrogate the drivers. He also requested that the message should be passed further south to the Metropolitan police. Witness then spoke to intermediate stations between Grantham and Biggleswade, so that lorries in cafes could be examined. It was also arranged that the message should be circulated by police wireless and on the following Monday the B.B.C. broadcast a message. Despite this, however, no information about a vehicle or driver who might have been involved had been obtained.
Continued from next column
National Service sent her name to Mrs. Leeke, Grantham Vicarage, by Friday next, November 20th mentioned whether she would like to attend the course at Sleaford? We have been promised most valuable help by the A.T.C. and the Red Cross, and the A.T.S. and W.A.A.F. have cooperated most generously in the work already begun in the county”.
THE G.T.C.
Company To Be Formed At Grantham
At a well-attended meeting in the Guildhall, on Saturday, under the chairmanship of Mrs. G.H. Schwind (chairman of the Kesteven G.T.C. advisory council) it was unanimously decided to form a company of the G.T.C. for Grantham, and later to extend the work to include nearby villages.
Miss Janet Campbell, county commandant of the corps, gave a most inspiring account of its work, which aims at giving a sound basic training to girls up to the age of 18, with optional classes under well-qualified instructors for those who intend to become munition-workers, land girls, nurses or members of the Forces.
The great success of the boys organisation, she said, was due to their keen desire to take their share in winning the war, and in this the girls were no less anxious to do their part. Social activities were included in the programme and a camping site was already in use, thanks to the generosity of Commander J. Cracroft Amcotts. The uniform was simple and applications from would-be cadets in Grantham had already been received. Officers were needed aged 19 and over.
The following committee was appointed: Mrs. Schwind, chairman pro tem., Lady Longmore, Lady Welby, Miss Bellamy, Mrs. L. Bond, Miss Cherry, Miss Frier, Miss Gillies, Miss Hargraves, Miss Jabet, Miss R. Jackson, Miss Law, Mrs. Leeke, Miss E. M. Preston, Mrs. Robinson, Mrs. G. A. C. Shipman, Mrs. Talbot, Miss Townsend and Mrs. Walsh.
Flt.-Lieut. P. P. L. Stevenson representing the Grantham A.T.C., of which he is commanding officer, and promised the active co-operation of the corps.
It was decided to accept cadets over the age of 14 and to invite those willing to become officers to notify Mrs. Leeke.
CHANCE FOR GIRLS, 14-18
Mrs. Schwind writes:-
“the Corps, which is recognised by the board of Education as the pre-service organisation for girls gives the basic training to cadets, aged over 14 up to 18, in drill, fire-fighting, first-aid, handy-women’s jobs, hygiene and physical training, while tuition in other subjects such as aircraft recognition, field cookery, food production, home nursing, shorthand, car maintenance and workshop calculations is provided according to the careers which the girls hope to follow, whether in munitions, land work, nursing or the Forces. Before we enrol cadets (there are already nearly 40 who have expressed a wish to join) we need officers – women and girls over 19 interested in the work and able to give one or two evenings a week. (the more officers, the fewer their hours of duty need be. In addition to the commandant, vice-commandant, adjutant and quartermaster, we need one or two officers for each section of 25 cadets. A week-end course for officers will be held at Sleaford High school on Saturday and Sunday December 5th – 6th. under Miss Janet Campbell, county commandant, at which we hope to have officers from the companies formed or being formed at Sleaford, Stamford and Bourne.
“Will anyone willing to offer herself for this much needed form of
Continued in previous column
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[deleted] Red Cross [/deleted] cadets on parade
[photograph]
THIS contingent of Grantham Red Cross cadets. Led by Susan Brace, was taken outside the Guildhall towards the end of the Second World War. Taking the salute is an American general.
Third from right is town MP Denis Kendall and on top of the bomb-blast wall is Rothwell Lee. In the background is a building later demolished to make way for the JobCentre.
The picture was brought in by Joyce Szewd, of Sixth Avenue, Grantham.
[/paper cutting]
[paper cutting]
Cadets were girls of the Training Corps
[photograph]
A RECENT picture described as the Red Cross cadets towards the end of the war was in fact the Grantham 830 Girls Training Corps.
Although the Red Cross wore similar uniforms, they wore caps and aprons on parade.
During the war, all youngsters over 16 had to join a uniformed youth group, such as Red Cross, Army Cadets or ATC.
Winnie Barnes, of Ripon Close, Grantham, rang to say she is the lass on the second row, nearest the camera.
Led by Susan Brace, second in command was Miss Llewellyn-Owens, a Journal reporter who later joined the WRNS.
Beryl Neal, of Robertson Road, on the front row ahead of Miss Barnes, said they met in a room on London Road, which became the Kendall umbrella factory.
She said: “We marched around the streets. There was little traffic in those day [sic].
“We learned Morse code at ATC rooms, St Peter’s Hill, by Mr Betts.”
Margaret Burdon, of Grantham, brought in the photograph above of members of the Grantham 830 Girls Training Corps celebrating the group’s third birthday in 1945 in the grounds of Elsham House (now Grantham College), shortly before it disbanded.
Pictured are from from [sic] left – Joan Ray, Audrey Nickerson, Betty Ward, Betty Goodacre, June Bradley, Winnie Barnes, Margaret Smith, Miss Gardner, Mrs Brace, Miss Hall, Winnie Guilliat, Doris Anderson, Joan Parker, Margaret Wilson, Jean Ranby, Pauline Palmer, Doreen Sellars and Mary Shepherd.
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Now as mentioned much earlier, the difference in rank between a Warrant Officer and his Commanding Officer may be considerable, but it [sic] a matter of respective opinion as to which considers himself to be endowed with the superior responsibility, authority or whatever. Over these four years, each respected their relative rank and apparent authority, but of late there may have been some cooling of regard. I may be wrong, but I have always had the feeling that our Warrant Officer was seeking an appropriate opportunity to tell our CO what he could do with the former’s Warrant. Whether it was simply a case of him just having had enough of the job for a while or whether it was more of a case of personalities in disagreement, I never knew, but our W.O. had been increasingly on the point of handing in his resignation.
However, back to the formation of the GTC Company. As part of the package of cooperation, our CO promised to supply drill and other instructors until the GTC could stand on its own feet with an NCO structure of its own. As with the early days of the ADCC, there had been a rush of girls wanting to join. This called not only for their initial drill instruction generally, but also to train up as quickly as possible, a core structure of recruits with appropriate leadership and instructional skills.
While our CO had obtained immediate offers of help from our officers to assist in the drill and administrative instruction of the GTC Section Commanders, it was a very different matter when it came to the point of who would be in charge of other ranks instruction. Our Warrant Officer chose this point to become the ‘Immovable Object’ and refused point blank to get involved. Our CO, realising that the employment of ‘Irresistible Force’ would achieve little or nothing, turned this force elsewhere.
It will be appreciated from all that transpired in the many previous pages, that all the cadet units in which I had served to date had been ‘boys only’. The King’s School was (and still is) a boys only school. Fraternisation with the girls of the Kesteven and Grantham High School across the town had been actively discouraged and a King’s School boy had to be more than a little careful about the town’s other girls with whom he was seen to be associating. In fact, at that time, prefect power and a regime which permitted a fair measure of ‘ragging’ (not to be confused with bullying), to be openly observed with a girl friend (of the right social order of course) was regarded as being a Sixth Form privilege. To do so under the age of sixteen was to invite merciless ragging and unless one was particularly extrovert, one’s later teen age years left one with a ‘wimmin is trouble’ complex.
There were no girls in our family of my sort of age and both before and during the war our homes had been isolated in terms of neighbours. Until the later years of my apprenticeship, my contact with any girls of my own age was negligible. Both the ADCC and the ATC had (until now) been totally ‘boys only’. As for me, until adolescence, I had only thoughts for model aircraft, Meccano, and the like. After adolescence, all I was interested in was my studies, my cadets and keeping my family together in the very primitive conditions in which were [sic] had evacuated ourselves to escape the bombing in Grantham. On top of this, having by now seen too much distress and despair when loved ones ‘failed to return’ I had in effect’Signed [sic] the Pledge’. Until such time as we could get this war business over and done with, I would leave the chasing of girls to the others who had enough spare time to ‘get involved’. Besides, I had a shrewd idea that I was more of an ‘odd fish’ than I cared to acknowledge. If there was a ‘right girl’ out there somewhere she would not only take quite a lot of finding but she would probably get fed up with waiting for me to get my qualifications/commission or whatever other excuses I had for not spending enough time with her.
If the SWO was not prepared to instruct the GTC girls then, the C.O. decided, there were plenty of NCOs in his Squadron who would jump at the chance. ‘Throwing Rank’, he said (in no uncertain terms), that I would be in charge of GTC drill instruction, and in particular would be in charge of a crash course to train up their NCOs. I immediately protested that I had already got too much on my plate, but he promptly slatted me down by saying that I had said that my studies were going well and that I was delegating the majority of Syerston visit supervision to my other Sergeants. “Besides” he said, “It will do you good” (I was far from sure what he meant by that. Neither was I sure how much Miss Owens’s hand was mixed up in this)
Over the years, there had been quite a few ‘social evenings’ in our H.Q. to which the other cadets had brought their girl friends along. We also had a succession of girls helping out at our mid evening cocoa and tea breaks. In addition, beyond the blackout curtains at our front door and the end of parade, there would usually be a certain amount of whispering and giggling as girl friends awaited the emergence of their boys. The sound of female voices was not unknown in our HQ but had
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always been in the minority, but this was no preparation for the sound effects of the first night upon which No. 830 (Grantham) Company of the Girl’s Training Corps had their first parade. As fully expected, there had been no reluctance on the part of the other Sergeants to undertake drill instruction for the GTC cadets. I had made a point of arriving early so that I could hide myself away in my instructor’s office until the last possible moment. As I buried my nose in my affairs, I became increasingly aware of a crescendo of female voices filling the hallway and other rooms, together with voices of authority attempting to produce a semblance of order out of the apparent chaos.
Eventually, order was established and the next thing I knew was that on the opposite side of my desk was a uniform which was not RAF Blue, and a voice which was not one of my cadets. She informed me that the NCO squad was awaiting my instruction. The dreaded moment had arrived.
Now it has taken me sixty odd years to admit it publicly, but the real reason for my reluctance was that I was in a ‘blue funk’ as they say. Without a qualm, I could face a squad of new ATC recruits with calm and authority. I could perform for, and converse with the Topmost Brass of the RAF and other dignitaries without turning a hair. I could command a parade of several hundred strong without a tremor in my voice, but the idea of facing up to a dozen or more ‘wimmin’ was something approaching nightmare. ‘Wimmin’ were a closed book to me and I didn’t want to ‘get involved’ whichever way you like to interpret it. Section Officer Owens had assured me that they had been carefully selected and that they were ‘all nice girls’, but that was no help.
I faced the group. They appeared to size me up and I did my best to size them up. In the same way as a horse will immediately sense a nervous rider, it was obvious they sensed that in spite of my stripes and apparent age, I was more than a little nervous (Under statement)
Throat cleared, I resorted to my usual preliminary patter. I was “Flight Sergeant Stevenson and over the next few parades I would be instructing you on basic Foot Drill and furthermore instructing you on the basic principles of drill instruction etcetera, etcetara [sic]” Sundry signs of interest, what might have been encouragement, and a few more enigmatic signs which might has [sic] been amusement. I pressed on regardless and relaxed very slightly.
As usual, the first thing was the “Stand to Attention”. The usual patter starts at the feet and works upwards. In those inhibited days, ‘gentlemen’ refrained from regarding anything below the female face with anything further than the briefest of glances. Now I was called upon to considering closely the disposition of a dozen pairs of black shoes, topped with a dozen pairs of female ankles above which were a dozen pairs of female legs. Somehow, I managed to sort that lot out.
The next problem was the rest of the figures above. Although they were unquestionably ‘different’ from the dozens of squads I had previously instructed, there [sic] seemed to possess that same cross section of posture problems. Some of them naturally stood up straight and pulled their shoulders back in the approved manner, but there seemed to be a new spectrum of hunching which of course had to be corrected if smartness on parade was to be established. With boys, the usual practice was to stand behind them and, forcible employ ones thumbs and fingers to haul the back into the correct position. What on earth was I allowed to do? Summoning up courage, I picked on one of the ‘stoopers’ who didn’t look as if she would slap my face. I stood behind her and as gently as possible pulled her shoulders back. At the last moment she let out a slight gasp which the others must have heard as all shoulders visibly straightened – to my relief!
There were constant pitfalls for the unwary male. “Arms straight, fingers clenched, thumbs behind the seam of the . . . . . .” Oh, Christ, they don’t have trousers, do they? Do their skirts have a seam down the side? I flounder. One of the more capable ones who seems to be enjoying herself chirps up “Yes Sergeant, there is a seam down there”. Grins and the odd giggle. I press on. More problems when we get to ‘Right Dress’. Boys, in a manner of speaking, present less of a problem. Get their chests lined up, and the rest drops into place. No [sic] so this lot! After a bit, I give up and line their noses up!
Gaining confidence a little, I yell the usual “Come on, stand up straight, pull your shoulders back and stick your . . . .” I stop dead. I must admit that they responded admirably until the whole group collapsed into helpless laughter at my expression, and at that moment our CO and S/O Owens walked in to see how we are getting on. I get a stern look from our C.O. and what might be called an old fashioned look from S/O Owens. (I did not realise that the cadet who was beginning to wind me
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up was her niece, and that later she had thoroughly enjoyed giving a first hand account of their first drill session)
And so it went on.
Somehow I managed to survive the rest of the evening and I had to admit that they were indeed ‘nice girls’ as promised and they were all dead keen to learn. Whoever had short listed them had done a good job. Afterwards, I was amused and somewhat heartened to learn that the other ATC Sergeants had encountered similar problems but unlike me had thoroughly enjoyed themselves. At first I was a little embarrassed when the NCO group were referred to as ‘[underlined] your [/underlined] girls’, but after a while, they were doing so well, I was getting sufficiently proud of them to catch myself calling them ‘[underlined] my [/underlined] girls’. Luckily for my studies and other commitments, the ones who might be considered ‘my type’ appeared to have their own boy friends so I could retire gracefully into my bachelordom and not ‘get involved’. We all seemed to get on well with each other and that was fine. However, in retrospect, I think the C.O. was most probably right when he said it would “Do you good”
For a while, our H.Q. was busy every night with ATC and GTC on alternate nights, but it was not long before they got an H.Q. of their own. There, they could do their nursing, first aiding and caring skills and their NCOs could carry on the good work so far as drilling was concerned, but the more Service orientated cadets still came to us for things like Signals, Aircraft Recognition (They might not be so good at sorting their ‘Flaps’ from their ‘Slots’ but they were good at recognising the general shape and ‘sit’ of an aircraft)
If I remember rightly, for these subjects we began to parade on the same nights and now the barriers were down, our H.Q. became very much ‘co-ed’. I think for a time at least, the classes were kept separate, but at breaks and at the end of the evening’s activities there was a lot of ‘fraternising’ and a noticeable tendency to ‘pair up’ when the time came to shoo them all out. This then was the pattern which seemed to hold for the next couple of years. We definitely paraded as separate units on formal occasions, but so far as instructional and social activities were concerned, there was always a high degree of cooperation. It was an interesting phase of our Squadron’s history
The GTC did not survive into the post war era. When the time came, in less inhibited times, for the various Cadet units to enrol girls on the same footing as their boys, though difficulties might still arise, it would not be the first time that 47(F) had ‘wimmin’ about the place.
We had a second Annual Camp in 1943, (boys only of course) A tented camp was set up for us next door to the Parachute Section alongside the lane which leads off to Syerston village. Sadly, my camp report for that week has not survived, so I cannot give a day by day account of the doings. Although we did not receive the same V.I.P. treatment we had at Bottesford, I can still remember a lot of flying and a lot of slaving in the hangars and other sections, In retrospect, I suppose in a way, this and our attachment to Syerston could be considered the apogee of 47(F)s wartime involvement with the hot war.
As 1942 moved into 1943, I was now in a somewhat curious situation. The ATC had been created from the Air Defence Cadet Corps to meet a wartime need. I am not aware that at that time there had been any specific maximum age for an ATC cadet. No doubt with a callup age of eighteen, nearly if not all cadets would have left for the Forces by that time, and a maximum age limit was hardly necessary. We had no cadets on our strength who were not liable for military service.
Thanks to my Joint Selection Board deferment to obtain my Higher National Certificate as an entry qualification, I was now not only the Squadron’s senior NCO with all those cadets of the same age having already left for the RAF and elsewhere, within eight months, I would be aged twenty. Looking back, I suppose I was one of the few cadets who had been in the ADCC/ATC for the whole of the war period to date.
As a result, my future in No.47(F) was to say the least of it, a bit uncertain. There was the Selection Board stipulation that I must be in some form of pre-service training, so my having to leave the Squadron on age grounds might well present a problem. I suppose I was just about old enough to apply for a commission within the ATC, but we were up to strength on the unit’s officer count, and the ramifications of applying seemed somewhat complicated. The matter was solved however before
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A.T.C. Form 3
[ATC Crest]
AIR TRAINING CORPS.
Certificate of Proficiency
PART I
This is to Certify that
Cadet Flight Sergeant Peter Desmond Stevenson of No. 47.F. (Grantham) Squadron
is granted a Certificate of Proficiency in that, during his membership of the Air Training Corps, he has fulfilled the necessary conditions as to efficient service and has qualified in the Flight Mech (E) syllabus of training, as laid down in the Rules and Regulations of the Air Training Corps.
[signature]
Air Commodore
Commandant, Air Training Corps.
Date 7 – 8 – 43
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that decision was made. Our Squadron Warrant Officer suddenly decided that enough was enough, and thumped in his resignation.
The CO (naturally) decided that a suggestion replacement should be from his fellow officers. Net result, would I be prepared to resign as a cadet, and apply for consideration as the Warrant Officer. In August 1943, therefore Cadet 308 Flight Sergeant Stevenson P.D. ceased to exist. He handed in his uniform, received a W.Os clothing allowance and was next seen sporting a rather smarter uniform, service shirt and tie and the W.Os ‘Crown on his lower sleeves. As far as duties were concerned, there was not a great deal of difference, as his predecessor, over the previous months had been only too pleased to hand over his more irksome duties to his senior Flight Sergeant.
That was the good news I suppose, but life always seems to balance this with a bit of bad news. The latter affected the Squadron as a whole. Lincolnshire’s air bases were to undergo another, and even more drastic upheaval. No.5 Group was to move to occupy more of the north and east of the county and its Headquarters would also move north. Nearly all their bases to the south and west were to be handed over to the Troop Carrying Command of the U.S. 9th Army Air Force whose headquarters would now be in 5 Group’s erstwhile home in St. Vincent’s in Grantham. Syerston’s two Squadrons would separate to other bases and we could no longer be attached to them. Calamity indeed!
‘The Yanks were Coming, the Yanks were Coming’ – and we were left to make the best of it. The autumn of 1943 was, to say the least of it, the beginning of yet another phase in the 47(F) Story.
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[A.T.C. LEAVING CERTIFICATE OF SERVICE]
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[A.T.C. crest]
[photograph]
WARRANT
To P.D. Stevenson.
As Commandant of the Air Training Corps for the Midlands.
I do hereby appoint you to be a Warrant Officer of No. 47F (Grantham) Squadron, from the Twelfth day of August 1943.
[badge]
You are therefore carefully and diligently to discharge your duties as such as required by regulations and to observe and follow such orders and directions as you shall receive from a superior officer.
[signature]
G/Capt
Eighteenth day of 1943.
93
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[underlined] Chapter Ten – The Magic Air Force 1943-44 [/underlined]
Before I start on this penultimate chapter, a word about its title. Leslie Thomas, the prolific author of highly amusing accounts of WW2 service life, produced a masterpiece in his ‘Magic Army’. This started with an hilarious account of the impact of the invasion of the Dorset countryside and coast by the first elements of the United States ground forces who came ‘over here’ to finish this war of ours for us. It was centred around a small seaside community of local yokels, guarded from the enemy by a more or less forgotten detachment of British artillerymen. Its gun was of dubious reliability and had barely enough ammunition to do more than scare the pants off a ‘tip and run’ German reconnaissance plane. Into this scene had marched the first elements of what would eventually be an overwhelming army of American servicemen. They had come to prepare the ground. They had come from many parts of the United States and some of them had been recruited from the Deep South with complexions which were a distinct contrast to those of the Dorset folk. (In these days of political correctness, one has to be careful with one’s phraseology) Their military bearing and behaviour was also in distinct contrast to that of the Tommies manning their gun. The story ends in tragedy but don’t let that put you off. It will give you another facet to the eight months or so when the Grantham area was host to another American invasion.
These were not by any means the first U.S. units who had come over here to join the fray.
For the past two years, East Anglia had been the Forty Ninth State as the U.S Eighth Army Air Force battled its way with ever increasing strength (and appalling casualties) in its daylight raids over the Continent. As the planning and preparations for D Day progressed, the combined operations of the British and American Airborne Forces resulted in many of the airfields surrounding Grantham being freed from RAF activities to make room for the Troop Carrying Command of the U.S Ninth Air Force. Grantham’s St. Vincent’s, had become their Command Headquarters, and it was their staff personnel who were first seen about the town. Having more or less established themselves, the time had come to ‘call in the Cavalry’ and shortly afterwards the aircraft and their ground personnel began flying into the airfields.
The aircraft were mostly the rugged, reliable and much loved C-47, better known to us as the Douglas Dakota, and the much less reliable and largely hated C-46 Curtis Commando which had a nasty habit of bursting into flames at awkward moments (It was eventually withdrawn from service). Equipped with these, came the various Troop Carrying Groups
Now in the U.S Air Forces, what we know as a Squadron, they know as a ‘Group’ and what we know as a Group, they call a ‘Wing’. Each of their Troop Carrying Groups had about seventy aircraft which were too many to administer as a single unit, so to make it even more complicated, each was made up four sub units (roughly equivalent to what we would call a Flight) which they now called Squadrons, (TCSs) each of which has a different unit number. Get it? – well perhaps not.
O.K let’s start again with a specific example. Together, the 14th TCS, the 15th TCS, the 53rd TCS and the 59th TCS made the 61st TC [underlined] Group [/underlined] which went to RAF Barkston Heath. This TCG with others at RAF’s Folkingham and Fulbeck in Lincolnshire, Saltby (Leics), Cottesmore (Rutland) and Spanhoe (Northants) together made up the 52nd Troop Carrying [underlined] Wing [/underlined]. 52nd TCW plus two other TCWs in the south of England then made up the 9th Troop Carrying [underlined] Command [/underlined] whose H.Q was at Grantham. In each case, these Troop Carrying Wings were stationed close by the various British and American Airborne Divisions who would fly to war with them.
One other thing we need to establish in the way of definition, was the question of the terms of occupancy of the various airfields used by the Americans way back in the early Forties when our overseas investments were all used up, the Lease Lend agreement with the Roosevelt administration ended up with the British Government agreeing to lease British bases f.o.c. to American Forces in exchange for ships, aircraft and other war material. Thus, a British airfield remained the property of the RAF, who would equip and maintain its buildings, runways etc., leaving the Americans free to concentrate on their flying. Thus, even though a given airfield might be known to the Americans as ‘No.683 Base’, it was still RAF Fulbeck with an RAQF Station Commander, with its flying operations under the command of a U.S. Army Colonel.
Having allowed the staff at St. Vincent’s to settle in, our C.O. went to work. Thanks no doubt to the two years he had spent in the U.S. in the late 1920s he was soon on friendly terms with the Troop Carrying Command’s General Beresford. Invited down to our H.Q., he apparently liked what he saw and promised to attach us to Fulbeck which was going to be the 9th TCC headquarter’s airfield. This incidentally, was just down the hill from Fulbeck Hall which was to be the place in which the detailed planning of the Arnhem operation was to take place, and close to Stragglethorpe Hall which was the Headquarters of the British 1st Airborne Division.
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2 [underlined] GENERAL GILES, Commandant 9th TROOP CARRYING COMMAND USAAF INSPECTS NO.47(F) GRANTHAM SQUADRON AIR TRAINING CORPS 6th February 1944 [/underlined]
[underlined] 6th February 1944 [/underlined]: Sunday. The weather was cold and dull, which was rather unfortunate because during the morning there was an inspection of the A.T.C. by an American named General Giles. There was also present at this little function the Mayor and Mayoress and Sir Arthur Longmore. The latter appeared to have aged considerably; or perhaps it was the cold, for the wind was bitter.
[photograph]
[photograph]
GENERAL GILES INSPECTS THE A.T.C.
[photograph]
A familiar sight at North Witham, Barkston Heath, Folkingham and Fulbeck were the C47 Dakotas of the US 9th Troop Carrier Command. These particular aircraft are from the 434th Troop Carrier Group, possibly at Fulbeck.
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When the time came for our first visit to Fulbeck, we awaited the promised truck with both interest and curiosity. Well, we waiting and then waited a little longer, but eventually a large truck bearing the now familiar large white star on its bonnet (sorry ‘hood’), rolled to a halt outside our H.Q. “Sorry” said the gum chewing driver, “I got lost”. We piled in. thankful to hand over the navigation, we set off. We were offered a stick of gum. “Sorry”, we said, “We are not allowed to chew sweets when in uniform”. We get a look of surprise. We eventually arrive. Used to several years of RAF Security, we are now somewhat surprised to roll through the gate with no more than a wave from the driver to the guard who is too busy chatting up a couple of Land Army girls to do more than languidly wave back. (We gathered later that a staff car bearing a General’s flag and stars was about the only thing to warrant a guard turnout) Our driver dumps us somewhere in what appears to be the nerve centre of things and in the best of service traditions, proceeds to ‘get lost’.
Eventually, we find someone who seems to have some idea of who we are, but it becomes quite obvious that they have no idea of what to do with us. They play safe, and while they detail someone to take our cadets on a guided tour, our Flight Commander and I do our best to thrash out something constructive. It takes some time to convince them that we are anything more than a glorified Boy’s Club, there for a bit of fun. Having heard what we had done at Bottesford and Syerston, they agreed to attach our ground trades to the equivalent functions in their hangars and on dispersal, and allow the aircraft cadets access to Navigation and Signals section etc. They also promised to give all our cadets as much air experience as possible. In fact they immediately bundled all of us into a Dakota and gave us a twenty minute flip. I don’t think the flight was for any specific purpose from their point of view. They were just being friendly.
Before this happened, it had been lunch time and we were led (we soon learned that no one ever marched in this Magic Air Force) over to the ‘Enlisted Men’s Canteen’. We dutifully queued up and it was our turn to be surprised (not that we had stopped being surprised from the minute we had arrived) Huge plates were dolloped with huge quantities of food. Naturally, individual meals are long since forgotten, but the general impressions last. Apart from immediate perishables, the Americans had agreed to be responsible for the importation of all their food, and the one thing the Americans had decided upon at the outset, was that they were not going to go hungry. They were still in a state of astonishment at how well we looked on what they considered were the starvation rations we were living on. So, when meat was on the menu, we got the equivalent of a week’s ration on our plate. If it was egg[underlined]s[/underlined], then it was in the plural at a time when our week’s ration was one fresh egg, and only aircrew, who were on ops that night got a fresh egg for their breakfast. Sugar was on the tables in great bowls, and the ‘kawffee’ was real coffee and not the ‘Camp’ chicory extract we had been drinking for the last four years. At this stage of the war, though we were certainly not starving, we were hungry most of the time. This of course showed externally when we compared our bodies with our new friends. We were not exactly skinny but in comparison they did tend to bulge better.. I must admit that our meals and ‘kawffee breaks’ were a highlight of our visits to Fulbeck, but with qualifications. Certainly the quantity was there, but to the more discerning palate, the standard of cooking left much to be desired.
Later on, we discovered a further interesting example of Anglo-American cooperation. By then we had got to know the RAF ‘Care and Maintenance’ staff, and it would appear that to be posted to a USAAF base was initially considered to be the ‘reward’ for not having measured up to the requirements of a General Service Officer. Once there, the ‘perks’ more than balanced any remaining stigma. Quite apart from the generally relaxed atmosphere, with little if any of the usual RAF ‘bull’, the general standard of living was measurably higher. The small RAF team soon dropped Officer and O/R segregation and shared a small communal mess. This received the same per capita rationing level as the USAAF, but used RAF catering staff to do the cooking. As Warrant Officer, I and any other ATC Officer would be invited, indeed advised, to eat with the RAF.
It was interesting to see the considerable expansion of this RAF Mess over the months we were there. Apparently, the USAAF officers, once invited to eat with their RAF colleagues, asked for their ration allocations to be routed (sorry ‘rowted”) to the RAF Mess in order for them to enjoy much higher cuisine standards than pertained in their mess. Not all of these US based ration allowances were consumed on the premises, as can well be imagined. We understood that the Fulbeck RAF officers (and I suppose the same applies to the other 9th TCC stations) became not only very popular with their own families and friends, but also with their colleagues on adjacent RAF stations.
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[underlined] YOUTH DAY PARADE – MAY 4th 1944 [underlined]
[photograph]
[underlined] GENERAL PAUL WILLIAMS 9th TROOP CARRYING COMMAND USAAF – INSPECTING OFFICER [underlined]
[photograph]
No.47[F]GRANTHAM Sq AIR TRAINING CORPS
[photograph]
No.830 Grantham Co. GIRLS TRAINING CORPS
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[underlined] YOUTH DAY PARADE – MAY 4th 1944 [underlined]
[photograph]
KINGS SCHOOL J.T.C.
[photograph]
THE U.S.A. POLICE GAVE EVERY HELP
[photograph]
YOUTH DAY, SUNDAY, MAY 7TH. THE ASSEMBLY IN THE CAR PARK
[photograph]
AN AMERICAN PHOTOGRAPGER
[photograph]
THE ASSEMBLY IN THE CAR PARK.
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This was not the only ‘grey’ market which developed and was quietly turned a further blind eye upon. This one had interesting ramifications. During the week before one of our visits, some of our cadets would ‘accumulate’ a quantity of U.K. currency, for which they found a ready market amongst the GIs who were dating up English girls. Now in possession of dollars and cents, our cadets could look forward to the arrival of the ‘chuck wagons’ which heralded the ‘kawffee breaks’. These treated the cadets the same as the GIs. Available on these were sweets and cigarettes in quantity and, more importantly, [underlined] off ration [/underlined]. Furthermore, the cadets also discovered that, provided they had American currency, they we [sic] free to buy things in the ‘PX Store’ (more or less equivalent to one of our NAAFI Shops). These were fabulous sources of things virtually unheard of unless one was well into the British Black Market. Our next currency transaction was from dollars and cents into the new wartime wonder – Nylon Stockings. Once our poor inhibited, blushing cadets (by now unmoved by a Lancaster turret full of blood and guts) had screwed up their courage to effect the transaction, their popularity rating with the GTC went up by leaps and bounds.
This was not the only forms of negotiable currency. Thanks to the generosity of our new American friends, Grantham and the surrounding district had soon learned that ‘gum’ and the Herschey Bar (for ‘Herschey’ read ‘Cadbury’) were in plentiful supply. We were correspondingly popular on next parade night. This brings me back to the GIs Mess Halls.
When we had first collected our midday meal and taken them back to the mess tables, we were puzzled by the large earthenware jars with big wooden spoons in them. Carefully observing our nearby GIs, we gradually discovered their contents and their use. Thanks to having gone with my father up to London pre war, I had been introduced to the delights of the American Waffle. The latter seemed to be a very popular sweet course at Fulbeck, and Jar No.1 was Maple Syrup ([underlined] Real [/underlined] Maple Syrup not ‘flavoured’) By 1943 the British diet was not only frugal, it was also dull and bland. Our idea of heaven at that time was probably limited to something like a small spoonful of sweetened condensed milk. Maple Syrup was not only unobtainable in wartime Lincolnshire, it was virtually unheard of. Since we were also permitted to go back for more, we certainly went back for more, and in spite of its stickiness, some even migrated back to Grantham..
Jar No.2 was more of a mystery. We observed the thickly spreading of a light brown gooey paste onto waffles or thick slices of bread, [or even onto slices of fried bacon!]. Not to be outdone we did the same. The resulting impact on our wartime taste buds was dramatic to say the least. Some faces immediately registered disgust, while others froze in expressions of gastronomic bliss. Somehow, small quantities again drifted back to the unsuspecting Grantham public and these produced the same effect. I honestly think that at that time, nothing else so divided the British wartime public into two opposing camps. There seemed to be no half way, one either adored or loathed PEANUT BUTTER!
Please don’t get me wrong. In spite of our American friend’s efforts to augment our wartime diet, we were not there just to eat and indulge in a little grey marketing. We soon convinced them that we knew something about aircraft and the flying of them. Our ground trade cadets demonstrated that Douglas airframes and Pratt & Whitney engines held few secrets.
What did surprise the cadets was the quality and quantity of the tools which were issued to the American airframe and engine fitters. Those of our cadets who were engineering apprentices, came back drooling about the tools they had used in comparison to the ‘War Economy’ finish of the tools in our factories and what the RAF had to use. New words came into their engineering vocabulary such as ‘Stilson’ and ‘King Dick’. I don’t think our cadets got involved in another form of East/West trade but it was a little surprising how many American tools managed to drift into Grantham factories during the eight months the 9th were with us.
It was a little different when it came to our flying experience. Again at first we had to convince new USAAF aircrew after new aircrew that we [sic] not just after a joy ride. The Dakota does not have so much room ‘up in the office’ as the Lancaster but it does have a lot more windows along the fuselage. After all it was a military version of a very successful air liner. It also had a huge pair of rear doors, big enough to drive a Jeep through. Since they always seem to fly with these doors wide open, there was always a terrific view of the countryside beneath. The airliner passenger seats had gone, of course, but there were bench seats all along the side. Unless one stood up, there was not much to see out of the windows except for the sky and the wings. However, once they got the message of what we wanted to do in the way of map reading exercises, they fixed us up with boxes we could sit on round the doorway, together with a safety belt anchored back to the parachutist’s trip cables up in the roof just in case in our enthusiasm, we happened to fall out.
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Flight formalities were not minimal, they were non existant [sic]. They had never heard of ‘blood chits’ and considered them quite unnecessary (“Our C47s don’t crash, Chum, unless the pilot does something stooped”) Flying suits? (“We don’t go high enough to get cold, Chum”) Parachutes? “C47s don’t get into difficulties and you would be too low for them to open properly”. All very reassuring. We make our way over to the Dakota indicated and climb up the ladder and enter. The interior is seen to have other occupants, local yokels, Land Army girls, even Italian Prisoners of War who we had seen earlier on [sic] perched on benches outside the flight office hoping for a flip on this bright and sunny Sunday morning. Having been plied with gum and Herschey Bars, we all wait for engines to be started. From the front, one of the crew brings in a bucket which he places in the middle of the cabin. “Aim in it, not at it please” he announces and with that, off we go.
We head off into the blue and the map reading class gets going. We locate this and we identify that we mark our track on our air maps and note our changes of direction. After twenty minutes or so, one of the crew comes back and cheerfully shouts “O.K. boys, where do you reckon we are?”. We ring our present position. “Good” says he and goes back forwards. As he goes through the door, we hear him say “O.K. Skip. We’re on course”. There were apparently, the odd occasions in the early days when the ATC Cadets at the back were the only ones on the plane who were sure of their position and gave the folk up front a course for home.
It was indeed not easy to remain uncritical. There poor navigators had trained in the Mid West where the roads were dead straight and it was a case of “Follow State 66 until it crosses a river, then turn left. About ten miles on, the river will be crossed by a railroad track. Turn right and look for a small town. If you can’t find it, land near a farm and ask them to call us so that we can give you a course for home” (“Geezus, in this goddam country, before you get a chance to identify one town, you have passed over four more”).
We were only there on Sundays to see their activities on the ground. Away from Spittlegate’s airspace, the 9th were flying round the clock, desperately trying to get new crews into close formation flying, then to get squadrons to formate in Groups, and finally to get Groups to formate in Wings. Impressive enough in daylight, but when they got round to night flying, the sight of several hundred troop carriers, sometimes towing gliders, with undimmed navigation lights and master navigators and formations, was mind blowing. When all that passes over your head at six hundred to a thousand feet, the noise was terrific.
Not so impressive was the impact of the invasion on the ground. As D Day approached, the build up of the Paras in the Grantham area increased proportionately. Grantham was a focal point for both the British 1st Airborne and the American 82nd and 101st Airborne. Neither of course had been recruited on the basis of their finer feelings. The latter sadly displayed the usual ‘Over Paid, Over Sexed, and Over Here’ characteristics which led to pitched battles in Grantham’s streets, aggravated by the invasions of Nottingham’s ‘Ladies of Easy Virtue’ who arrived by the car, bus and train loads on pay nights, to be shipped back again by the Grantham and Military Police the following morning, usually the worst for wear. (I often wondered how many ATC/GTC romances started when the ATC Cadets were recruited to escort the GTC Cadets safely home through the blackout when parades ended.
On the 5th of June 1944, the 9th airfields sprang into life carrying the spearhead troops into the early airdrops of the Invasion. They suffered many casualties and returned visibly shaken. This was obviously not the war they had expected. Our honeymoon period with them evaporated. We helped but were not entertained, and as the Normandy battles developed, there were more drops and more losses. For D Day, the 9th only dropped American troops, but as the preparations for Arnhem progressed, it would be the British 1st Airborne who would be travelling with them and Fulbeck became a much greater focal point of Anglo-American cooperation.
Meanwhile, the Allied advances into France and the Low Countries had liberated German airfields closer to the front line and the first of the 9th Airforce units began preparing to move over to the Continent. This would eventually include the Command Headquarters at Grantham. They all began to make farewell noises.
By the mid summer of 1944, The Magic Air Force had flown!
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While we had been ‘enjoying’ ourselves at Fulbeck on Sundays, quite a lot had been happening back in the Squadron in Grantham. Amongst other things, we had , over the previous Syerston and Fulbeck periods, established an attachment with the RAF Regiment. In the First World War, Belton Park just outside Grantham had been the birthplace of the Machine Gun Corps. In World War Two, the same park had been chosen for the birth of the RAF Regiment. Just outside its southern boundary had been established the Regimental Headquarters, Barrack Blocks Parade Ground, and Gymnasia to train up specialist troops for the protection of RAF airfields.
Here, suitable recruits were put through their paces. The RAF had of course been teaching their airmen ditching and sea survival skills since the beginning. Now, with the increasing success of the various Resistance Movements in Occupied Europe to channel our aircrew survivors back to Britain, capture avoidance and other ‘escapology’ skills were being taught to aircrews as part of their normal training, and the RAF Regiment were just the people to teach those skills. When we were not going to Syerston of Fulbeck, we would spend a happy(?) hour of two learning the best way to use the Boche’s coal scuttle helmet to break his neck, or to use a piece of piano wire to remove his head if you think the former is too quick for your liking, as well as quite a few of the less gentle aspects of unarmed combat. Then again, how to jump out of the back of a lorry doing twenty miles per hour and use a parachute roll to prevent you breaking your own neck. Again all very exciting if not exactly pleasant
For my part, the Spring and Summer of 1944 had been the big run up to my Finals for my Higher National Certificate in Mechanical Engineering which I sat in July. The various papers were not exactly easy but I walked away feeling fairly confident. I was now waiting anxiously for the results to come out.
During the spring, ATC Headquarters had announced the staging of a three day, No.1 ATC Warrant Officers Training Course at RAF Cardington. This was to be a fairly intensive work out of RAF Rules and Regulations, Drill Instruction and the administration of big parades, and lots of other subjects which to tell the truth, seemed just a little bit irrelevant if I was leaving the ATC for a technical commission in a month or two. Much of the detail of this course is now forgotten. Perhaps., the most lasting impression I have left of Cardington was spending several hours learning all about the construction and flying of Barrage Balloons. (Balloons and Airstrips have always been a passion of mine)
All that was mostly the good to medium news. Around mid summer, our C.O. had been showing signs of overwork. Right through the previous five years, he had been tireless in running the Squadron, liaising with Spittlegate, 5 Group and the USSAF, taking a major part in the organisation of the various ‘Wings for Victory’, ‘War Weapons Week’ and similar events as well as holding down a rather difficult civilian job. Regrettably too, like so many of his generation, he was a fairly heavy smoker and lately had been putting on too much weight. His doctor read the Riot Act.
Luckily, there had been moves in the higher administration of the ATC, the result of which was the creation of a Lincolnshire Wing to coordinate the activities of the now quite considerable number of ATC Squadrons in the County. This would be a desk job, and as the senior Squadron Commander, he was promoted to Squadron Leader.
Effectively, 47(F) lost its C.O. and the senior Flight Commander was promoted to replace him. Sadly, after a month or two in his new appointment, Squadron Leader P.P.L. Stevenson suffered a massive heart attack and went into intensive care for several weeks. He survived, just, but his ATC days were over.
By the late autumn of 1944, both the Allies and the Russians were hammering at the gates of Germany. The end seemed to be in sight, even though there was still to be much bitter fighting both on the ground and in the air. The bomber offensive was at its peak, but apart from Spittlegate, Cranwell and Digby, the other airfields round Grantham were most quiet, and somehow, apart from the nightly roar of Bomber Command in the skies to the north and the very occasional air raid warning that a suicidal Luftwaffe intruder was about, the war had passed our part of Lincolnshire by.
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[signature] [missing letter] Burges [indecipherable word] (Best Regards)
[symbol] [underlined] No. 1. A.T.C. W.O.’s. Course. [symbol] [/underlined]
[underlined] Cardington. 1944. [/underlined]
[Back Row, left to right]
[underlined] Munass [/underlined] 392
[underlined] Masterson [/underlined] 4071
[underlined] Cook [/underlined] 996
[underlined] Wright [/underlined] 391
[underlined] Gabrad [/underlined] 231
[underlined] Cabboll [/underlined] 220
[underlined] Hirst [/underlined] 1053
[underlined] Andrew [/underlined] 387
[underlined] Harvey [/underlined] 877
[underlined] Bruce [/underlined] 1383
[underlined] Stevenson [/underlined] 478
[underlined] Hodgkinson [/underlined] 124
[Middle Row, left to right]
[underlined] Bishop [/underlined] 1303
[underlined] Guest [/underlined] 1990
[underlined] Lister [/underlined] 1341
[underlined] Dorricott [/underlined] 57
[underlined] Wood [/underlined] 481
[underlined] Jackson [/underlined] 2133
[underlined] Parmenter [/underlined] 1116
[underlined] Austin [/underlined] 1861
[underlined] Major [/underlined] 1456
[underlined] Watts [/underlined] 1904
[underlined] Russell [/underlined] 398
[Front Row, left to right]
[underlined] Munn [/underlined] [indecipherable number]
[underlined] Edwards [/underlined] 1476
[underlined] Powell [/underlined] 1148
[underlined] Butler [/underlined] Wolverhampton Wing.
[underlined] Hearn [/underlined] 79
[underlined] Sgt Pearson [/underlined]
[underlined] Sgt Bridges [/underlined]
[underlined] Dawson [/underlined] 1968
[underlined] Harby [/underlined] 1942
[underlined] Malier [/underlined] 1547
[underlined] Brown [/underlined] Colchester Wing.
[underlined] Bourdoe [/underlined] 38
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Barrage balloons being towed by their winch lorries
They can be rapidly deflated, transported to another site, and re-inflated
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[underlined] Chapter Eleven Anticlimax and Finale [/underlined]
August 26th 1944. It should have been a day of celebrations, but in the event, it was a bit of a damp squib.
It was my 21st Birthday and it therefore marked the end of my engineering apprenticeship. I was now a Junior Draughtsman in the Design Office of an internationally renowned company producing construction equipment. I was also the acolyte of its revered Chief Designer and we were engaged in some important and interesting design and development.
I went down to our village Post Office to collect our mail (Our isolated farmhouse home was way off the village postman’s beat). On this very day, in addition to greeting cards from our scattered family, there was one letter for which I had been waiting anxiously for a week or two. Yes, it was my exam results. With bated breath I tore it open. I HAD PASSED!
I shot off home and dashed off a letter to the Joint Selection Board to say that I now had the necessary Higher National Certificate and now awaited their instructions. This posted, I returned to an empty house. My father was now just out of intensive care in one hospital in Nottingham, after his heart attack.. My mother was in another Nottingham hospital awaiting surgery and my brother was in yet another recovering from another operation. I was dreading to think how they are going to manage when the time came for me to go. At present, not one of them was capable of looking after themselves, let alone the others.
Thank goodness it was a sunny day. For the first time in years, I went for a day’s walk in order to have a good think.
Throughout my life September, rather than January, has always been the beginning of my year. The new school year, the new OTC year, the new Air Cadet year and later on in life, the beginning of various forms of technical training programmes. This year, hopefully, it would be the beginning of a completely new life.
For 47(F) it would also be a new year. It had a new Commanding Officer who would undoubtedly want to make some changes in order to ‘make his mark’. One of his first jobs would be to establish a new ‘attachment’, now that the USAAF had gone. Recently promoted Flight Lieutenant, Albert Chapman had been one of the first officers to be appointed at the inaugural meeting of the Grantham Squadron back in January 1939. At that time, he had been a civilian driver in Spittlegate’s Transport Section, and had remained in the Section throughout the intervening years, this being unquestionably a Reserved Occupation. He therefore had a fairly firm ‘foot in the door’ at Spittlegate which he now used to re-establish 47(F)’s attachment to its original parent airfield.
Spittlegate was still a very active training station. No. 12(P)AFU was still churning out night fighter and intruder pilots, but the pressure upon them to do so was beginning to ease slightly and they seemed more than willing to welcome us back.
The overwhelming Allied air supremacy, coupled with the Luftwaffe’s increasing shortages of experienced pilots and aviation fuel, meant that our losses were beginning to fall. In fact, unbeknown to us, the Air Ministry were already beginning to question whether they now had more than enough aircrew trainees to finish the war, now that Allied forces were well established on the Continent once more.
With our usual August break over, Cadet H.Q. opened its doors to a new if uncertain future, welcoming back its old cadets and signing on the usual intake of new recruits
The Joint Selection Board had merely acknowledged my letter informing them of my H.N.C. pass and said that instructions would follow. In the daytime, I continued my Design Office work. In the evenings, on parade nights, I continued to function as S.W.O. and started lecturing again, feeling more than a little restless. On other nights, I rediscovered the delights of doing nothing that didn’t need doing, apart that is, from looking after the family. My father had returned home almost completely disabled and anxious to learn what his Squadron was doing under the new C.O. The rest of my family came home also, but they were far from fit to resume their previous lives (my brother was only twelve and still ‘poorly’). Much as I looked forward to the arrival of my papers, we could only bless the days when they never arrived.
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Eventually, towards the end of September they did arrive with a Rail Warrant to the RAF Reception Centre at Cosford, but also with instructions to stay put until further orders. Thankfully, in a way, the further orders seemed to go into ‘hold’ for most of October.
Then, I was asked once again to go before the Selection Board. There, somewhat apologetically, they informed me that recruitment for commissions in the RAFTechnical [sic] Branch had closed! They had already got enough Engineering Officers to finish the war without my help in effect. Before I had a chance to express my disgust, they started questioning me closely about the work I was doing at Aveling Barford, the construction machinery manufacturers with whom I had just completed my apprenticeship, and some general questioning about what I knew about airfield construction equipment.
Without explaining why, I was told to go back and again wait for further instructions. For another two or three weeks nothing happened, then a letter arrived offering me a commission in the RAF Airfield Construction Service. After due deliberation, I come to the conclusion that this might be useful practical experience towards my eventual membership of the Institution of Mechanical Engineers. I wrote back, accepting. Again nothing happened. Again I am called back to the Board who then questioned me about Aveling Barford’s post war ambitions (as if I would know as a 21 year old junior draughtsman!) Throats were cleared and the Chairman said that even though the war was still unfinished, the Government was giving urgent thought to the question of Britain’s part in the reconstruction of Europe and the revival of the British economy. We will need to ‘Export or Starve’ blah, blah, blah, and in this respect it was obvious to them that my future should lie in the engineering industry. Ye Gods, after nearly ten years of doing my best to get into the RAF, was this the best they could offer!
I went back home and told my parents that they still had a son, to their obvious relief. I went back to my works and told them they still had a Junior Draughtsman, and they welcomed me back. I went back to 47(F) and told them they still had a Warrant Officer and they also welcomed me back.
However the bad news was not yet over. ATC Headquarters then delivered a bombshell. Although in the event, the war in Europe still had another six months to run, the Air Ministry had decided to cut drastically, the funding of the ATC. Future recruitment into the RAF was also to be reduced and acceptance standards drastically raised. In future, Squadrons must be self supporting for all activities except those specifically details for the training of cadets of the required acceptance standards. There was a lot more to it which said in as many words that the future of the ATC was more in the shape of boy’s clubs in which ‘good citizenship’ was to be encouraged and more blah, blah, blah. Out of this, a few selected entrants will be recruited to replace servicemen due to be demobilised.
This called for a lot of hard thinking regarding the future of the Squadron. Although I for one, was far from happy about a new ‘boy’s club’ image for the Squadron, our new CO seemed quite willing to take up this new change of image. In a way, this was not surprising. Right from the start, mas Flight Commander, he had always been a great supporter of any sports and social activities, and having a teenage daughter, was very supportive of our cooperation with the GTC Company. Since their inception, there had been quite a few social events, quite apart from sharing training facilities. Although each unit had its own headquarters and to the outside observer, functioned as two separate units, parades over, apart from uniform differences, that outside observer could hardly be blamed for thinking that they were a single unit.
In view of what is to follow, I think I need to admit that I have always been (and still am) a pretty unsociable cuss. I don’t like loose crowds and I loathe ‘parties’ and I did my best to avoid getting involved in these ‘socials’.
Inevitably, a ‘Funding’ meeting had to be held. This not only included both our officers and cadets, but al [sic] a similar contingent had been invited from the GTC. They of course, having had much less financial help from official sources, had always needed to rely heavily on fund raising. We, on the other hand, had received reasonably generous grants from the Air Ministry. Now that we needed to raise funds, the GTC might give us a few tips.
Ideas were called for. The GTC officers told us that the general public, after five years of whist drives, jumble sales, ‘coffee’ mornings, summer fetes, Warship Weeks, Wings for Victory, comforts for the troops and so on, a further round of such activities was not likely to raise a significant amount of the needful, especially as the general public still believed that the ATC was fully supported financially by the RAF. Silence prevailed.
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During the previous year or so, our Headquarters had acquired a most useful addition. The RAF had offered us a redundant 60ft x 20ft wooden accommodation hut and this had been duly erected to one side of our parade ground. This had proved invaluable since it was large enough to parade the whole Squadron indoors on dark or wet evenings and enabled a certain amount of drill on the march to be carried out. It was in this hut that this combined meeting was being held, in which I was taking a determinedly back seat. Raising money for social and sporting events was definitely not my reasons for joining the ATC.
Fortunately or unfortunately (depends upon the circumstances) I have a habit of observing the existence of a number of ‘twos’ which, by what was later called ‘lateral thinking’, I would then put these together to make a dozen or so. During the foregoing discussion, I observed at the far end of the hut, the various officers sitting behind a large table, doing their best to look helpful or intelligent. To their side is the upright piano of doubtful tonal value which we have recently acquired from somewhere or other. After parades, this frequently formed the focus of a mixed group of cadets, Although never standing a chance at the International Eisteddfod, they frequently sang their intentions to ‘Roll Out the Barrel’ and ‘Hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line’ etc. accompanied by one of our cadets who could thrash out at [sic] tune on this long suffering instrument.
I also recollected that another popular ATC cadet was a great comic, and that one or two of the GTC girls had quite reasonable singing voices. Somehow at this point, William S managed to assure me that ‘All the world’s a stage, etc Much to my later embarrassment, I heard myself saying “If we could make a stage at this end of the hut, do you think we have enough talent in the two units to make up an ATC/GTC Concert Party?” Too late, I realise that I am now the centre of attention. Expressions of interest and approval from the table, hubbubs of interest from the cadets. The redoubtable Miss Owens assumes command, “What an excellent idea”, and within minutes the inevitable committee is formed and before I can protest further, I am press ganged into service. “Good” says I to myself, “If I can supervise the erection of the stage and any props they might need, I can stay well in the background and leave any ‘acts’ to the others”. – so I thought.
The committee, chaired of course by Miss Owens, agreed that the whole programme should be designed to put as many cadets onto the stage as possible from both units. Miss Owens agreed to find and stage manage, a multi character one act play. Audition as many cadets with instrumental skills. Can we think of any songs with multi part singers. Muggins suggests Pedro the Fisherman which is the rage at the moment. Accepted, and ‘on the night’ Muggins has been ‘volunteered’ into the part of Nina’s father – “One day her father said to her etc”. (How old do they think I am?)
Can you think of a finale that brings everyone back onto the stage? You are good at writing, Can you work up a sketch on these lines? I suppose I could. So it went on, but after a bit, I had to admit that I began to enjoy being something other than a technical student or a technocrat cadet. Maybe I’m not so old after all.
There was no doubt that during the two months or so that that it took to work up this Concert Party, training suffered a bit, but now that the pressure was off, no one seemed to mind. It was a long story and if anyone was a success. It brought in several hundred pounds for the two units (which was a lot of money in those days. Afterwards, it was inevitably a bit of an anti-climax. Hopes were expressed that we might stage another one next year, but in the event this proved to be a ‘one off’.
Quite suddenly, I decided that I had had enough. This was no way to finish one’s war. What can one say when your children ask “What did [underlined] you [/underlined] do in the war, Daddy?”
There is little comfort from the saying “They also serve who only stand and wait” I could say “Well, while I was waiting, I probably knocked several hundred hours off the training time of several hundred Cadets and Registered Men before they were called up. I also loaded up several hundred incendiaries, helped service a few Lancasters and swept out a hangar or two. Oh, and I nearly forgot, I probably saved the life of an injured airman”.
It had happened like this. In early January 1945, I was cycling home around midnight after one of the last rehearsals before the concert party was staged. These were the days when we had [underlined] real [/underlined] winters and for more than a week it had been freezing hard. There had been reports that skating was possible on the Grantham Canal. It was a bitterly cold, and no one was about by that time of night.
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[photograph]
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JOURNAL, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 16th, 1945.
YOUNG PEOPLE’S REVUE
A.T.C. and G.T.C. Show at Grantham
No 47F (Grantham) Squadron A.T.C. and No 830 Coy. G.T.C. made their debut on the stage on Friday and Saturday, when they presented their revue, “Blue, White and R.A.F. Blue.” in the A.T.C. hut and played to packed houses.
A critic who has had nothing to do with the organisation of the show says that there were three features about the revue which placed the entertainment much ahead of the usual run of amateur shows – first the number of original items put over, second the complete absence of prompting, and third, the even run of the production and the lack of irritating delays.
Considering this is the first show staged by the organisers – the producer and arranger was W/O. P.D. Stevenson, and the dramatic section was under the direction of Jun. Commandant J. Llewelyn-Owens – they are to be congratulated on overcoming three most important factors which so often mar amateur efforts.
LOVE BUG v AIR BUG
The chorus opened the programme with their signature tune, “Blue, White and R.A.F. Blue.” which was followed by “Pedro the Fisherman.”
The next item was a sketch, “Love Bug versus Air Bug,” the G.T.C. cadet being taken by C.S.L. M. Shepherd and the A.T.C. cadet by W.O. Stevenson. Then came the theme from “The Warsaw Concerto,” played on the piano by Cpl. Turner, and the chorus returned to sing, “Long ago and Far Away.” “I had a Dream” (first public presentation) and “Swinging on a Star.”
Cdt. Tuckwood, A.T.C., gave a clever dialect rendering of “Albert and the Lion.” and a humorous “Advertisement Drama” was enacted by Cdt. 1st Cl. J. Hook as Rupert Chislethorpe, S/L. Sellors as Mrs. Westerby, Cdt. W. Guilliatt as the maid, Cpl. Bramley as the narrator, and F. Sgt. V. Hutchison as Mr. Westerby.
[deleted] They were followed by Cpl. Bennett and Cdt. Sharp on their harmonicas, aided by Cpl. Howlett on the spoons and then the chorus wound up the first half of the programme with their marches past – “Forty-Seventh Squadron A.T.C..” and “Girls of the G.T.C.” [/deleted]
After the interval came a one act play. “The Batercom Door,” with the following cast: Prima donna, A/S/L. J. Bradley; young man, Cpl. F. Bramley; old gentleman, Cdt. 1st Cl. J. Hook; young lady, S/L. D. Sellors; old lady, A/S/L. P. Palmer; Boots, Cdt. Feneley.
VERY GOOD ACTING
The standard of acting was on the whole quite high. The principles had been chosen with care, and they showed an ease which was really refreshing.
Though all did well, Cdt. Hook deserves special mention. He was undoubtedly the star actor, and with more experience, this young man could create a reputation. Praise must also be given to June Bradley for her changing moods as the prima donna.
It was unusual to find so many original items in an amateur show – songs, a sketch and dramatic poem. These were the work of W/O. Stevenson, and their enthusiastic reception should encourage him to produce more.
The final tableau was a fitting end to a most successful show. While a poem describing the work done by ex-cadets of both A.T.C. and G.T.C. was declaimed, representatives of the different services into which they eventually go (not forgetting the miner !) marched on to the stage, and ended by singing, “There’ll Always Be an England.”
A TRIFLE STIFF
A little criticism may be levelled at the combined chorus of A.T.C. and G.T.C.; they were just a trifle stiff and were far too serious. The voices were well blended, but they need more practice to bring out the volume.
Make-up was by Junior Commandants Mrs. Worth, J. Llewelyn-Owens and M. Gardner.
An appeal was made on the opening night for the two corps’ welfare funds by Mr. W.J. Marshall, chairman of the welfare committee, who said that A.T.C. plus G.T.C. equally X.T.C.
The chorus consisted of: A.T.C. – F./Sgt. V. Hutchison, Cpls. F. Bramley, F. Howlett and Beecham, Cdts. 1st. Cl. J. Hook and Ebb. Cdt. 2nd. Cl. Charity: G.T.C. – Co. C/S/L M. Shepherd, S/L D. Sellors, A/S/L/s J. Bradley and P. Palmer, Cdts. P. Aspland, B. Ward, A. Nickerson, J. Parker, V. Edgley, B. Goodacre, W. Guilliatt, J. Marchall and C. Robinson. The accompanist was Miss R. Chapman.
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[embossed crest]
Royal Air Force Station,
Spitalgate,
GRANTHAM,
Lincs.
Ref: C/49/76/P1 15th January, 1945.
Dear Mr. Stevenson,
re Accident to Blenheim V Aircraft No. AZ.993 near Harlaxton on 5th January, 1945.
I have learned of the invaluable and extremely kind assistance that you rendered to Warrant Officer R.C. Ford, who was one of the two pilots in the above aircraft when it crashed at 23.23 hours on the date stated and I am writing to ask you to accept my most sincere and grateful thanks for all that you did.
I am unable to commend you toohighly [sic] for the initiative you displayed immediately you heard the call for “help” and after you had located Warrant Officer Ford. Your action in covering Warrant Officer Ford with your own greatcoat, having regard to the bitterly cold night, was most thoughtful and kindly.
As you already know the other pilot in the aircraft (Flying Officer G.G. McGolrick) was killed instantly. Warrant Officer Ford was, miraculously, only slightly injured but he had been “wandering about” for one hour when you found him and had you not acted as you did it is most probable that he would have suffered seriously from exposure after the crash. He did develop pneumonia but as far as can be seen at present he is recovering satisfactorily.
Your action in this instance was in keeping with the fundamental principles of the Air Training Corps and, naturally, it is with personal pride that I write this letter to you as you are a member of the Squadron affiliated to this Station. Acts such as yours strengthen the bonds of mutual friendship and understanding between the Royal Air Force and the Air Training Corps.
Yours Sincerely
[signature] (J. COX)
Group Captain, Commanding,
[underlined] R.A.F. Station, SPITALGATE [/underlined]
Warrant Officer P.D.Stevenson,
No. 47 (F) Squadron,
Air Training Corps,
[underlined] High Street, GRANTHAM [/underlined]
[NOTE THAT EVEN THE GROUP CAPTAIN Oi/c RAF SPITALGATE HAD, BY 1945 TO USE [indecipherable words] NOTE PAPER]
[page break]
Page 110
In those days, everybody seemed to whistle the catchy tunes of the day and I was most probably giving ‘Pedro the Fisherman’s’ tune a further airing. As I reached a point where the main road ran parallel to and close to the Grantham to Nottingham canal, I was surprised to hear a faint voice calling “Help, Help”. I naturally assumed that it was some late night skater who had got into difficulties. Dumping my bike, I clambered over the far side. Not risking the ice, I ran back to one of the bridges, crossed over and eventually found him stretched out near the edge and obviously injured. He was in flying gear and he told me that he and his instructor had taken off in a Blenheim trainer from the nearby Harlaxton airfield, when both engines failed and they had crashed some distance away. In spite of damage to his back and one leg, he had tried to find his instructor, but was unable to do so. He had crawled around about for an hour or so, finally crawled along the canal bank until he could go no further, calling for help but no one had heard him until he had heard me whistling.
He was obviously badly shocked and deathly cold, so I made him as comfortable as possible it was obvious that he was in no condition to walk back to the road, so I covered him up with my coat and told him not to move until I could summon help. Luckily there was a nearby house who let me ring Spittlegate sick quarters who sent out an ambulance and a search party. The former got him stretchered up and taken away. The search party admitted that they had no knowledge of the area, so back we went and spent another hour looking for the crash. Eventually, we found enough dead mutton to feed a hundred, (they had apparently crashed into a flock of sheep) Following the blood and gore, we found the remains of the Blenheim but the cockpit area was completely missing. Forty yards or so further on, we found the instructor, still strapped into his seat and who had obviously died on impact. There was nothing else I could do so, frozen to the core, I made my way home in the very small hours.
A few days later, I received a latter [sic] from Spittlegate’s CO thanking me for my “extremely kind assistance blah, blah, blah” and assuring me that my action “was in keeping with the fundamental principles of the Air Training Corps blah, blah, blah”. (As you may have guessed by now, I was getting a bit bitter at the way things had gone). What made it worse, somehow or other the Grantham Journal got hold of the story and the next thing I knew was it being splashed centre front page.
By the end of January, my mind was made up. Removing one of my Warrant Oficer’s [sic] ‘Crowns’ (for old time’s sake) I sent my uniform to the cleaners. Shortly afterwards, when Headquarters were deserted, I hung my uniform behind my office door, put my paperwork, files and training manuals in order. Closing my office door for the last time, I went downstairs, placed a letter of resignation on the Adjutant’s desk. Checking that the place was secure, I dropped the latch on the front door and closed it quietly behind me. I posted my keys through the letterbox. The sound they made as they hit the doormat signified the end of my war. After ten years of being a Cadet, I was now just a plain ‘civvie’.
I supposed it was now my job to do something about ‘winning the peace’.
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Page 111
The big moment comes when the instructor, waving his bats, signals you to release the tow line and you make a steady, if hardly dignified descent to earth. (The Primary looks pretty fundamental as a flying machine, and its glide angle ensures that there is no risk of you landing in another nearby field). Progressively, you are pulled higher and released later, until the day comes when your log book proudly records that you have stayed up a full minute!
Having done so, you now have to pay more. Your previous flights cost you two shillings and sixpence each. A rough calculation tells us that this was about one fiftieth of a skilled man’s wages in those days,. From now on the price is doubled. By the time you are able to stay up a bit longer, you are introduced to the Club’s next acquisition, a Grunau Baby intermediate glider. This was more or less equivalent to the Slingsby Cadet which the ATC cadets were then using. However, Cadets were taught from scratch in dual control gliders, and never went though [sic] the slide/ low hop/ high hop routine we had to follow on the Primary.
I had reached the point, having stayed aloft for five minutes in the Grunau, and had thereby gained my Second Class Gliding Certificate, when I had to leave the Club. This was a great disappointment as the Club was not only hoping to invest in a high performance sailplane but was also planning to have a week’s camp at the Long Mynd, the Mecca in those days for glider pilots in Central England.
It came about like this. In 1945, I had a week’s cycling holiday in the south of England, my first ‘civvie’ holiday since before the war. In the June of 1946, I decided to do the same, this time exploring the South Wales area a bit. On the way back, I met up with two Lincolnshire lassies who had been doing the same. How one of these became that ‘girl somewhere out there’ who was prepared to put up with this ‘odd fish’ and was prepared to wait until he passed all his technical examinations, is too long a story to be included here. However, within three months we had decided that this was ‘it’, and as soon as my swotting days were over, we would get married. The first priority in the meantime, was to save up enough to do so.
In those days, personal finances were on a very different basis from today. Hire purchase agreements, apart from a mortgage on a house, were only for the impecunious who had not the ‘moral fibre’ to wait until one saved enough to buy something which you needed to pay ‘cash on the nail’. As for daring to go to the Bank Manager (who in those days, you actually knew by sight!), and having grovelled in front of his desk and asked him for a loan, you were definitely ‘guilty until proved innocent’. Something had to go, and amongst our many drastic economies, gliding (which was now getting quite expensive), was one of the first, and to all intents and purposes, that was the last contact I had with aeronautics for the next twenty years or so apart from flights in commercial aircraft.
We got married in 1948. In the next two decades raised two delightful daughters and saw them through school and University, enjoying vicariously their university days denied to us through the intervention of the war years. Our respective DIY skills were used to restore two houses. I had become a Senior Designer with several successful construction equipment designs to my credit. I had left design and put my former instructional skills to good use by becoming Sales and Service Training Manager in another construction, quarrying and mining machinery manufacturer. In the process I had gained the necessary practical experience to be elected a full Member of the Institution of Mechanical Engineers.
I had left Grantham about the time when flying ceased at Spittlegate. Over the years I would see it become a Territorial Army Transport Depot, the former hangars and tarmac, home to hundreds of trucks. RAF Digby too, after a brief period as a satellite training outstation for Cranwell, had also ceased flying and had become a hush hush signals establishment. Waddington and Scampton had become V Bomber bases. Cranwell, still flying, was also into the jet age for their traine4rs, but I was not inspired by jets. Like diesel locomotives, they lacked ‘soul’ I felt.
My work over the years had involved a far [sic] amount of air travel. I had crossed the Atlantic at a time when BOAC commemorated the earliest commercial flights by presenting you with an impressive certificate commemorating the fact that you had successfully and safely crossed the ‘Herring Pond’ and ditto when you crossed the Equator. I had flown in an early flight of the DeHavilland Comet, the world’s first successful jet airliner, together with several other ‘firsts’. However, the higher you flew, the less it appeared to be real flying.
At one period, I had, as one of my departmental instructors, a man who was the chief Instructor of the Trent Valley Gliding Club who did his best to persuade me to join. At the time I had neither the time nor the available funds to finance such indulgence, so I resolutely resisted such temptation.
[page break]
Page 112
I was now fifty, and that is an age when one takes stock, looking forwards to unattained ambitions and thinking back to past achievements and experiences. By now the wounds and the resentments of never getting into the RAF, had, to all intents and purposes, healed over. I got to thinking of the summer days before the war, when we lay in the grass along Cold Harbour Lane and watched the biplanes side slipping their way over our heads to land at Spittlegate. Of ‘Faithful Annies’ taking us over the Solent and circling over Grantham. Of Lancasters over Bottesford and Syerston, Dakotas over Fulbeck.
Deep down, some small ember which had been dormant for thirty years or so, started to glow faintly.
I crept into the local model shop. Yes, Airfix do an Anson kit. I buy it, a tube of styrene cement and some tins of Humbrol enamel, and spend a happy week or two building the Coastal Command version which was placed on a shelf in the spare bedroom. It was surprising how often I needed to go in there for a peep at the finished product. (There’s no fool like an old fool, is there?) Having relived my Public School’s Air Cadet Wing Days with its help, I think it would be nice to convert it to an Anson Trainer, so off comes the turret and pot of Training Yellow is bought. Shortly after that, the Annie is joined by an ‘Oxbox’, and then a Blenheim. Why not a Hawker Hind trainer? Easy enough, they were all Airfix, but when it came to the Avro Tutor and the Armstrong Whitworth Atlas which had been used in the 3FTS days, it was back to ‘build from scratch’.
Now well into my ‘Second Cadetship’, two years later, I had seven cases containing the forty two aircraft which had flown from Spittlegate from its opening in 1917 to when it ceased as an operational airfield in 1948. What now? Between times, I had of course built a Lancaster and a Dakota to bring back old times, but it had been nice to work to a theme.
One day, when listening to Radio Lincolnshire, I heard that the farmer who owned a goodly part of the old RAF Metheringham airfield, together with a group of local enthusiasts, had restored some of the buildings at the former bomber base, to form the basis of a small museum and heritage centre to the memory of the three hundred or so aircrew who had lost their lives on operations from there. When the number of the squadron was mentioned, I sat up sharpish, as they say. It was 106 Squadron. The 106 who had been briefly at Spittlegate in the late Thirties. The 106 which had been ‘our’ Squadron, when 47(F) had been attached to Syerston.
Equally sharpish, I joined the ‘Friends of Metheringham Airfield’. I took over the maintenance and repair of the many aircraft models which they acquired. The next job was to make them some cases with models and captions, covering the aircraft history of 106 from its WW1 formation, its reforming in 1938, though [sic] its days of Hawker Hinds, Fairey Battles, Handley Page Hampdens, a nice job of converting a Lancaster kit into a Manchester, and their last days with the Lancaster itself.
There was no doubt that ‘The Bug’ had bitten once more, and after I had completed a few more displays for Metheringham, the next project materialised. I knew that the owners of Fulbeck Hall had set up, within the actual rooms, a small museum covering the planning and execution of the Market Garden operation, the airdrop at Arnham, which had been carried by the Dakotas of the 9th Troop Carrying Command flying from the airfields at RAF Fulbeck and elsewhere. Attention on this museum was focussed in the early 1980s when our house provided accommodation for the Veterans of No.250 Coy RASC of the 1st Airborne Division who went into Arnham in Horsa Gliders towed by Halifax tugs. Having been stationed in our village during the run up to the drop, for most of the 1980s they had a reunion here which naturally included a visit to Fulbeck Hall. I got involved and made up several cases of models showing the British Halifax/Horsa and U.S. C-47(Dakota)/Waco glider combinations, and other aircraft related incidents. Later, Fulbeck Hall changed hands and sadly the new owners closed the museum. Most of the memorabilia went over to Holland to the Airborne Museum in Arnham, but the models now are on permanent display in the Thorpe Camp museum in East Lincolnshire.
Another announcement on Radio Lincolnshire presented the next challenge. The most active local authority on Lincolnshire has always been the North Kesteven District Council who are also extremely active in supporting and initiating aviation heritage in this, the ‘Home of the RAF’ and an integral part of ‘Bomber County’. In combination with the staff at RAF Digby, the wartime Operations Room was restored and another museum created. Although Lincolnshire has always been referred to as ‘Bomber County’, Fighter Command was by no means absent. Before the war, Digby had changed from being a Flying Training School to a Fighter Station, a Sector Station of No. 12 Fighter Command. Again, between times I had ‘adopted’ RAF Coleby Grange as one of those largely forgotten satellite stations whose night fighters and intruders seemed to lack the aura of the Glamour Boys who were flying the Spitfires at the base station at Digby. Again working to a theme, initially for my own amusement, I had developed a display of
[page break]
[missing letters]NGSBY Type 5 GRUNAU BABY 2
[technical drawing]
A single-seat intermediate sailplane built by Slingsby under licence from Germany. Of conventional wooden construction, the Grunau was built by many people from plans sold by the B.G.A. It was also built post war by [missing letters]iotts of Newbury as the Eon Baby. q.v.
Wing span: 13.57m., 44’ 6’’. Length: 6.10m., 19’ 8’’.
Wing area: 14.21 sq.m., 153 sq.ft. Aspect ratio: 13.
Wing sections: Gottingen 535 at root, symmetrical tip. Braced wing, with no airbrakes or flaps.
Weights: Tare 157 kg., 346 lbs. A.U.W. 250 kg., 550 lbs.
Wing loading: 17.68 kg./sq.m., 3.62 lbs./sq.ft. Max L/D: 17.
Placed into production at Kirkbymoorside in 1935. The price was £137.10.0 in 1939.
CLOUDCRAFT DICKSON PRIMARY
[technical drawing]
A single-seat primary glider of wooden construction, designed by Mr. Roger S. Dickson, and built by the Cloudcraft Glider Co., Southampton, in 1930. Many built by gliding club members.
Wing span: 10.45 m., 34’ 3 1/2’’. Length: 5.28 m., 17’ 4’’.
Wing area: 15.79 sq.m., 170 sq.ft. Aspect ratio: 7.
Wing section: Clark Y-H. Wire braced wings, no airbrakes or flaps.
Undercarriage type: Main skid only.
Weights: Tare 81.65 kg., 180 lbs.
114
[page break]
Page 115
all the aircraft and their Squadrons who had served at Coleby Grange during its brief history. These were offered to the new Digby Operations Room Museum and were quickly accepted. Under the leadership of the then F/Sgt Curry, the museum had both grown and prospered. However, when I became a ‘Friend’, the concentration seemed to be entirely on the memorabilia of the many Squadrons (mostly RCAF) who had served in or passed through the Digby airfield. Little credit seemed to be given to its satellite airfields of RAF Coleby Grange and RAF Wellingore, and almost nothing of Digby’s long history as a Flying Training School in the 1920s and 1930s. I decided to fill in the gaps, and after five years or so, there were models displaying the insignia of every Squadron which served, however shortly, in all three stations, something which apparently delights every visiting veteran who, of course is principally interested in [underlined] his [/underlined] Squadron. The Flying Training School history is similarly represented by models of all the aircraft used, together with a model of the Belfast Hangar, that icon of 1920s airfield architecture.
Until I came to live here in Lincoln, I had always been in the popular misconception that Lincoln’s part in the First World War was principally the Tank Story, plus a load of other munitions. It had been a bit of an eye opener to discover that far more important was its role as the country’s largest manufacturing centre for aircraft production. That too, is a long and interesting story.
For some time I had considered the possibility of modelling a complete set of the twelve aircraft made by the three principal engineering firms in Lincoln at that time. Only two of those were available as kits at 1/72nd scale and only one at 1/48th scales. With the intention of these eventually being on permanent display in one of the museum/heritage centres, and also being used for lecturing purposes. I decided to model these at 1/48th scale, since ‘build from scratch’ is much easier at that scale. I had made the first few of these when a ‘Made in Lincoln’ theme was declared as the city’s Millennium project which naturally gave an impetus. Two year’s work and a display of these went the rounds in a series of exhibitions and lectures. Having served that task, they too are now on permanent display at the Digby Ops Room Museum.
Much contact with North Kesteven District Council’s tourist and heritage unit in the meantime, led to an invitation to display my ‘build from scratch’ techniques at their annual ‘Craft and Modelling Day’ at the Cranwell Aviation Heritage Centre, another joint NKDC/RAF museum project. For quite a few years, this was an enjoyable chance to meet up with other aeromodellers. However, it was noticeable that the museum, though graced with a case full of beautifully crafted models of a general interest, the museum as a whole had few models specifically relating to Cranwell’s long aviation history. The various individual aspects of that history are excellently illustrated by extensive wall displays of photographs and text, but lacked what might be described as ‘three dimensional’ impact. Becoming yet another ‘Friend’, I made a start. Further research saw me beavering away in the College Library. This in turn led on to me making contact with the present day Headquarters of the Air Training Corps which is now based at Cranwell.
Here, I was welcomed back into the fold as a ‘Veteran’. I had previously made contact again with today’s 47(F) and gave talks about the Squadron’s early days. Contact too has been made with the King’s School Combined Cadet Corps unit, today’s descendent of its OTC. This now has two uniforms, Khaki/Camouflage and RAF Blue, in more or less equal numbers, though I doubt today that RAF parentage is represented in the same proportion.
My circle was complete. My back may not be so straight, my knees no longer march, I no longer parade in uniform, but whether I am in one or other of the museums surrounded by the memories invoked or surrounded by cadets (both boys and girls now) my heart is still young and on parade with them. Once a Cadet, always a Cadet? Or is it just Delayed Adolescence?
---O---
In my introduction, I made some acknowledgements and words of thanks, but I think it right that this narrative should end more specifically.
I remember, and ask you to remember, those hundreds of aircrew in 207 and 106 Squadrons RAF and those of the 9th TCC to which we were attached, who unhesitating went out to ‘Give Their Yesterdays’ and in particular, Ken Masters who went with me to the Air Cadet Wing Camp at Selsea. He was just one of the fifty King’s School boys who were killed in the Services in WW2 but he was my best school chum.
Also to all those who served in the various cadet units who, whether or not they joined up or like me, ‘also served’ but nevertheless contributed much to this story, [sic]
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Cadet 1935-1945 Peter D Stevenson
Identifier
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BStevensonPDStevensonPDv1
Description
An account of the resource
Peter Stevenson's account of his service in the Officer Training Corps at Grantham and later in the Air Training Corps. Tells of his life in Grantham and the effect of the war on the town. Also his involvement post war in museums and projects to record the wartime activities that took place locally.
Creator
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Peter Stevenson
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2006
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Format
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115 typewritten sheets
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Photograph
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
United States Army Air Force
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
England--Nottinghamshire
England--Grantham
Temporal Coverage
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1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
Contributor
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Steve Baldwin
106 Squadron
207 Squadron
5 Group
air sea rescue
animal
Blenheim
bombing
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
civil defence
crash
entertainment
ground personnel
home front
Lancaster
Manchester
military service conditions
RAF Barkstone Heath
RAF Bottesford
RAF Cranwell
RAF Grantham
RAF Harlaxton
RAF Northolt
RAF Syerston
sanitation
station headquarters
training
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1011/11354/BFortPaullMusStavesMEv1.2.pdf
70d6f60d01b6b6c19115a1370a3d2275
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
Staves, Malcom Ely
M E Staves
Description
An account of the resource
77 items. The collection concerns Flying Officer Malcom Staves (1924 - 2012, 1591418, 203137 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, items, documents, photographs, and training notebooks. He flew operations as a wireless operator with 207 Squadron. <br /><br />There is also a sub collection concerning Flight Lieutenant <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/1020">D A MacArthur.</a><br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Christina Chatwin and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-02-26
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Staves, ME
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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[photograph of Malcolm Staves]
Malcolm Staves,
207 Squadron Veteran
[207 Squadron Crest]
A Brief History
1
[page break]
Malcolm Ely Staves was born on 26th may 1924 ln North Boulevard, Hull and moved to Cottingham at the age of 2 years, where he lived for the rest of his life.
Malcolm's father died when he was only 8 years old and a further tragic family bereavement occurred when his sister, Gwen died of polio during the polio epidemic in the summer of 1948. Malcolm married Sheena Thompson on 7th January 1950 and is survived by Sheena and their two daughters, Christina and Heather.
Malcolm's school reports show that he was an excellent student, maintaining the highest grades in all subjects and consistently 1st place amongst his classmates.
Malcolm was a keen and proficient sportsman, with his interests mainly in playing football and cricket.
His academic abilities led to him taking a career in accountancy, beginning at the age of 14 years as a filing clerk and eventually rising to the position of Managing Director and Secretary of the long established Hull business of King and Company whose business premises can still be found, as protected architecture, alongside the Trinity Church in the marketplace in Hull.
In 1942 Malcolm applied for a place in the Royal Air Force, Bomber Command and as can be seen from the early artifacts, [sic] he was accepted on medical and academic grounds but his training and active service was postponed by a year, due to him having a widowed mother.
2
[page break]
Malcolm finally left for training on Monday 26th April 1943, travelling to London and Lord's Cricket Ground to begin the process of enlistment.
[photograph of a training flight of airmen]
He was billeted in flats in Regents Park and began a series of medical checks, inoculations, tests and other procedures before wearing his uniform for the first time on 1st May 1943 on a visit to Wembley. He also mentions in his diaries that he attended a concert by the Squadronaires and Vera Lynne.
For a young man of 18 years old, who had, probably, never travelled out of East Yorkshire except to cross the Humber to Lincolnshire, from where his family hailed, this must have been daunting but also very exciting and of course at this stage he had no idea what was to come during the next 3 years.
During his time in London he records, very modestly, that he met the King and Queen at the Church Army Services Club.
He was posted to Bridgnorth and arrived at 3.49pm on Saturday 15th May.
After settling in to the new billets he was informed that he had been granted a 54 hour pass to attend his sister Gwen's wedding.
On Friday the 21st May Malcolm left for Hull, getting a lift from the camp to the station in a
3
[page break]
‘Persil Van’, catching the 8.45 train and after various changes he arrived in Hull at 4.45 am on the day of the wedding.
After the wedding he began the long journey back to camp, arriving at 7pm on Sunday 23rd May.
The following months at Bridgnorth were spent on a series of lectures, fatigues, drills, parades, tests, fire parties and other duties and mysterious [symbol] 'gardening at night'! This was interspersed with football and cricket matches against other huts.
It was at Bridgnorth where Malcolm made some friends who would remain strong companions for the rest of his life.
It was common practice for crew to adopt ‘nicknames’ and hence Malcolm became known as ’Joe’ and this name stays with him to this day. William 'Hank' Williams was billeted with Malcolm and strong bonds were formed at Bridgnorth. Two other pals who joined 'Joe' and 'Hank' were George Cearns and Eric Evans.
Sadly, Eric was killed in training but Malcolm, Hank and George remained close ever since the end of their service.
At the end of their training the remaining pals were allocated to their squadrons and so split up for the duration of the war.
As we know Malcolm was assigned to 207 Squadron based at Spilsby.
George Cearns joined 166 Squadron and Hank Williams was posted to 106 Squadron at Metheringham after volunteering for the Pathfinders who were a specialist unit who marked the targets for the following bombing crews.
4
[page break]
On 28th June 2012, a remarkable, serendipitous occurrence happened in Green Park, London.
Having survived a grueling [sic] series of operations and a course of radiotherapy, for cancer, Malcolm made the journey to London to take part in the unveiling ceremony of the Bomber Command Memorial.
This long overdue event to mark the courage of Bomber Command aircrews, for those who were lost and the survivors, was a very special moment for Malcolm. The exhausting trip, only a week after the end of Malcolm's treatment was agreed by his medical team as a tonic but no one could have known just what would happen on this already emotionally charged day.
By an incredible act of fate Malcolm was 'spotted' in the crowd of 3,000, first by George Cearns and minutes later by 'Hank' Williams.
Although these, 'comrades' had remained in contact over the years by telephone and letters, it had been some years since they had met together and here was the most remarkable unplanned re-union to put a perfect end to a truly remarkable day.
At the end of July 1943 Malcolm had a week's leave during which time he visited family in Hull and Stickford, Lincolnshire before returning for duty at a new posting at Madley, where he attended intensive training at the Radio Operators school.
5
[page break]
This determined Malcolm's future as Radio Operator in Lancasters.
During his time at R.A.F. Madley, Malcolm continued with a diet of daily lectures, tests, and various duties but appears to have had more opportunities for leisure activities including frequent visits to the cinema where he relates the many films that he saw.
Some of these have become classics such as ‘Now Voyager’, ‘Gone With The Wind' and 'Fantasia'.
The routine continued through the autumn months and into winter with the occasional leave and trips back to Hull and Lincolnshire.
At the beginning of November Malcolm records on a number of occasions that he was engaged in another mysterious activity, [symbol] 'Binding’ and this would sometimes take place all day and night.
He recorded for the first time on 26th November that he did 3 hours of flying and apart from sessions that were cancelled due to the weather, this activity became a regular part of the training schedule through to the end of the year.
[symbol] The terms ‘gardening at night’ and ‘binding’ were intriguing in initial research results.
Night Gardening was the dropping of mines in the English Channel which was segmented into areas with names of flowers.
However, a more accurate and sadly more mundane meaning was offered by Hank Williams.
‘Gardening at night’ was indeed just that. It was part of the airmen’s responsibilities to maintain absolute order in
6
[page break]
and around their barracks and small gardens were maintained, the work often done at night after a busy days training. ‘Binding’, which also took place ‘all day and night’, was the term used for swatting for tests and exams.
Poignantly, there is no mention of Christmas at all and 25th December just reads as, ‘up at 7. 30 am. Went to Station Cinema to see ‘The Rains Came”.
Malcolm did manage to get a 48 hour pass to travel home on New Years Eve arriving in Hull at 1.15 am on New Years Day and walking all the way from Hull to Cottingham arriving home at 2.45 am.
One cannot imagine, in terms of today's festivities, how it must have felt to make that journey, the last one and half hours on foot to get home see his mother, leaving early on 2nd January to make the return journey back to base at Madley.
The New Year continued where the old one had left off but with more mention of study, flying and exams.
On February 15th 1944 Malcolm records that he passed his Final Board followed by an emotionless comment for the following day “Joe Peterson gone for a Burton …………. Wade baled out”.
The following day he attended the Commission Board and was promoted to Sergeant. The Passing Out Parade took place on 18th February, immediately after which he caught a train home.
7
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Life continued with lectures, letter writing, many visits to the cinema, exercises and flying through to June when Malcolm was ‘posted’.
While airmen were allocated to squadrons, crews were put together by a much more informal and
personal process. A skipper would, 'choose' his crew on the basis of their personalities and skills.
Flight Officer Ren Watters, a New Zealander, was to become the 'skipper' on Malcolm's crew.
He selected:
Flight Sergeant ‘Trapper’ J. Henderson, Flight Engineer
Flight Sergeant J.M. Stewart, Navigator.
Flight Sergeant Ron Moore, Bomb Aimer.
Flight Sergeant Malcolm Ely 'Joe' Staves – Radio Operator.
Flight Sergeant Eric Varney, Gunner.
Flight Sergeant D.M.C. 'Taffy' Watkins, Gunner to form his crew.
[photograph of crew]
During the months of July to December Malcolm moved around a number of locations, including, rather oddly Dumfries but then to Oxford, Winthorpe, Barford, Syerston and Newark.
At last he spent the Christmas of 1944 at home on leave and, as 1945 begins, his daily diary recordings come to an end on 6th January.
8
[page break]
We now know that Malcolm's first active sortie, was in February 1945 and that he went on to complete many bombing missions, including raids on the Ems Canal, Dortmund, Dresden, Politz, Nordhausen and Rositz.
All of these flights could have been the last flown by Malcolm, given the heavy losses experienced by Bomber Command. throughout the war.
He did however make it to the end of the hostilities but continued flying in Lancasters for some months after the war had finished. This involved flying training missions for new recruits and one flight on 17th July 1946, was probably the most dramatic, terrifying and near death situation that he experienced.
The flight happened after Skipper Wren Watters had returned to New Zealand and Malcolm's crew had disbanded.
On this occasion he was flying as WOP with a Canadian Skipper, Grahame Inglis and on the approach to landing, a fuel pipe at Malcolm's feet became detached spewing high octane airplane fuel through the aircraft.
With his usual determination, Malcolm managed to track down Grahame, to his home in Canada in 1993 and he recalled the incident in an article entitled 'Fright In Flight', for the Royal Canadian Air Force magazine, "Airforce”. The following excerpt gives a flavor [sic] of the dramatic experience,
“On July 17th 1946, we flew F for Freddie on a local two-plane formation exercise and we had some Air Training Corps cadets along . This was my twelfth - last flight in the RAF and, for a few minutes, I thought that it would be my last ever. Having returned to the vicinity of the base we did the pre-descent drills which included turning on the cross-feed pumps, thereby ensuring a fuel supply to all four engines no matter if some of the tanks were empty and eliminating surprise engine failure during the critical approach and landing phase of the flight. The cross-feed pipe
9
[page break]
is just forward of the main spar ‘step’ beside the wireless operator’s position.
Suddenly he, (Malcolm), yells that the pipe has come apart and fuel Is gushing onto the floor of the cabin! As quick as the flight engineer’s reaction is in turning off the pumps the whole cockpit is inundated. We are in a hellish airborne gas chamber in which fumes arise and, in spite of our oxygen masks, affect our breathing and eyesight. I have a mental flashback to myself as a young boy reclining, rigid, in a dentist's chair whilst a mask over my face delivers "laughing gas" prior to a tooth extraction. There is a vibrating sensation in my head just before going under. Well, I have the same sensation now but this is av/gas and no laughing matter. I had better not go under! …. My Mayday call to base must have sounded odd, for I was on a high octane high. Our formation partner has slid out to a discreet distance, clearly not wishing to share in our anticipated conflagration.
I have opened a large sliding perspex panel beside me, as has the flight engineer, and I poke my face into the 180 kt. Airflow. This clears my head and brings back my vision. I find that by putting the nose down to start our descent towards base I have the solution for all of us except the bomb aimer. The fuel flows into basement office in the nose and he shows commendable agility in joining us in the cockpit. I reminded of the salmon leap, in Scotland, upstream to spawn. I think that the draft from the front gun turret blows the fumes out through the inspection ports into the bomb bay.
Eventually the atmosphere improves. We can almost recognize the normal smell of the Lancaster. The fire trucks and the blood wagons are out in force and I’m afraid that I provide an anti-climax by greasing old Fred onto the runway. Then we are off to talk to our Incredulous ground crew.”
10
[page break]
As Malcolm's career in the Air Force, neared its end, he spent Christmas of 1945 on a less dangerous and perhaps more enjoyable mission. He was based in Rome at 2 Base Area Rest and Leave Camp. His objective was to transport P.O.W.’s and equipment back to G.B. and he retained the Christmas Day Menu and some of the Allied Military Issue Lira notes from the festive occasion.
Malcolm retained a fantastic amount of information and items relating to his time before, during and after his time in Lancaster Bombers and 207 Squadron. It is these artefacts that form the exhibition that you are able to visit today.
[photograph of 207 Squadron Crest]
11
[page break]
The Exhibits
The first group of artifacts [sic] show the rigorous process which Malcolm underwent before he was finally accepted into the Royal Air Force. These include Medical Certificates, Enlistment Notices, a Postponement of Calling Notice, a Warrant Certificate of Appointment as a Warrant Officer in the Royal Air Force and his Certificate of Appointment to the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve as Pilot Officer, the latter was signed by King George VI.
Malcolm saved all of his lecture notes and training manuals, giving us an insight into how intensive the preparation was for someone undertaking to be part of the crew of a Lancaster Bomber. These are exhibited here.
The number of photographs of ‘crews’ and training school groups show how important the ‘comradeship’ was in such grave circumstances. They are reminiscent of sports team photographs. The comradeship lasted for most of those who served in military units and this was certainly the case for Malcolm and the crew with whom he flew. Later in the exhibition the crew re-unions, organized by Malcolm and his life-long membership of the 207 Squadron can be witnessed through press clippings and personal photographs and poems.
A reminder of how 'normal life' had to carry on to some extent can be seen in the small
12
[page break]
collection of Pay and Post Office Savings Books. In addition there are the copies of ‘The Gospel According To St Mark' and ‘The New Testament Serviceman’s Bible’ from King George VI. These were a testament to the attempt at pastoral care for those whose daily missions reduced the chances of survival to a minimum.
A more harsh reminder of how uncertain a safe return was can be seen in the beautifully preserved ‘Air Crew Escape Map' which was printed on silk to enable it to be very small when folded, the card with a list of Phrases In Foreign Languages and the now almost comical instruction sheet for ‘The Method of Wrapping Pigeons For Dropping From Aircraft'.
The purpose of the pigeon dropping instructions was far from amusing. It would be the only hope of recovery for aircrews, when, having been shot down, used the dropped pigeon to relay their coordinates back to England. During the war there was a cull of predatory birds over the coastal areas, to prevent carrier pigeons being caught and killed.
Compared to todays GPS navigation systems, the navigation systems used by the RAF were relatively crude. Paper maps were relied upon and here is collection of various maps used on bombing raids, some showing the numerous airfields across areas of England and some detailed maps of the airfield at Spilsby, from where Malcolm flew most of his missions.
Familiar landmarks were also used to guide pilots back to their airfields and the photograph of a Lancaster flying over Old Bolling Brook Mill, Lincolnshire, was one such landmark used regularly by crews of 207 Squadron planes. To add to the relevance of this photograph, the mill
13
[page break]
happened to be owned and operated by Malcolm's Uncle.
Possibly some of the most poignant items preserved by Malcolm are his uniform and other clothing items and kit.
As well as the uniform there are some other more intimate and not often seen items such as his airforce issue socks and sleeping bag inner. This part of the collection also includes the bicycle that he used to get about the airfield and his kit bags and interestingly ‘one’ leather flying glove. He would have only worn one glove as his right hand had to be free to send morse code messages and operate the radio.
There are also a number of log books and flight records of various bombing missions. Some are facsimiles while others are the original items.
Jumping ahead to the end of WWII, it is interesting to note that 207 Squadron planes and crews were stationed in Italy, near Rome. Their mission was to bring back servicemen and equipment and Malcolm spent Christmas 1945 at this location.
He saved the Christmas Day Menu from the Area Rest and Leave Camp and some of the Allied Military Issue Lira notes, which can be seen here.
Malcolm was one of the few who managed to fly more than 30 missions and survive and his Royal Air Force Service Record and Release Book must have been one of the most welcome documents that he received.
14
[page break]
A rather emotional reminder of the end of hostilities are the demob cigar and the front page of the Hull Daily Mail with Churchill's victory announcement.
There is also a letter of recommendation written and signed by his Flight Lieutenant, presumably to be used to help gain employment back in civvy street.
Perhaps the most understated artifact [sic] is the small card from the Cottingham Welcome Home Committee, informing Malcolm that as they had run out of suitable gifts would he accept a monetary gift. It is believed that the amount was 10 shillings. Not a fabulous amount to recognize what hardships, sacrifices and heroism he had endured and displayed but nevertheless some recognition from his home community of what he had done for them in his time in 207 Squadron.
15
[page break]
Comrades
When his time in the Air Force was over, Malcolm returned to civilian life but the strong bonds of friendship that had developed over the period of training and action would remain for the rest of his life.
Once he was posted to his beloved 207 Squadron, the bonds of friendship were also a dependence on the skills and courage of all crew-mates for survival in often terrifying and terrible flying conditions.
Even before they went into action, there were terrible losses of young lives and one painful example was the death of Eric Evans on his last training flight. Eric, Malcolm and Hank Williams, trained together at RAF Madley as Wireless Operators and Erics [sic] tragic death remained with Malcolm and Hank for the rest of their lives. They often visited his grave at Holyhead to lay flowers.
As well as the firm ties between Malcolm, Hank and George Cearns, which last to the present day, Malcolm became a lifelong member of the 207 Squadron Association and The Royal Airforce Association.
He also became the architect of his crew re-unions, the first of which took place, in Cottingham, in July 1967. The event was well covered by the local press, particularly as Malcolm had managed to get the Lancaster Skipper, Wren Watters over from New Zealand, to join the rest of the crew. Sadly Taffy Watkins and Trapper Henderson, who by now lived in South Africa and Australia, could not join their comrades.
16
[page break]
Many more re-unions took place through the 80's and 90's, including 207 Squadron and Royal Air Force re-unions. There were also regular services and dedications across the country that Malcolm and his comrades attended.
Perhaps the most poignant and the last ceremony that Malcolm attended was held in Green Park, London, on Thursday 28" June 2012, in the presence of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.
After many years of controversy and ill feeling, a Memorial to The Bomber Command was unveiled by the Queen and Malcolm was there to witness and take part in this momentous occasion.
This was all the more remarkable as he had only finished the grueling [sic] treatment for cancer, just one week before the ceremony. The medical team, from Castle Hill Hospital, who had been treating him for 6 months, gave the all clear for Malcolm to travel to London and declared that it would be better than any medicine that they could prescribe. Supported by members of his family, Malcolm made the long journey, by train, to spend one of the hottest days of the year in Green Park, with 3,000 ex-airmen and their supporting families.
He thoroughly enjoyed the ceremonies and entertainment but perhaps the biggest surprise of all was when he was spotted in the huge audience by two of his closest comrades, William ‘Hank Williams and George Cearns. It was a very moving, impromptu, re-union and sadly the last one that Malcolm would participate in.
[photograph of Malcolm Staves, William ‘Hank’ Williams and George Cearns]
17
[page break]
Malcolm Staves passed away, peacefully, in Dove House Hospice, Hull, with all of his family by his bedside, on 19'" November 2012.
[photograph of a Lancaster bomber]
[photograph of 207 Squadron Crest]
18
[page break]
[photograph of Malcolm Staves]
Malcolm Staves
1924 – 2012
[photograph of 207 Squadron Crest]
19
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
Malcolm Staves, 207 Squadron Veteran
A Brief History
Description
An account of the resource
Malcolm Staves' life in the RAF, starts with his school reports through his enlistment in 1942. He trained at Bridgnorth then was assigned to 207 Squadron at Spilsby. His colleagues included George Cearns who joined 166 Squadron and Hank Williams who was posted to 106 Squadron at Metheringham. 70 years later he was reunited with them at the unveiling of the Bomber Command Memorial at Green Park, London. In July 1943 he was posted to RAF Madley to train as a radio operator. In a short period from July to December he moved to Dumfries, Oxford, Winthorpe, Barford, Syerston and Newark. His first active sortie was not until February 1945 and included operations on the Ems Canal, Dortmund, Dresden, Politz, Nordhausen and Rositz. He completed a tour of 30 operations. He continued flying Lancasters after the war, surviving a fuel pipe coming adrift on landing and filling the aircraft with fuel. In Christmas 1945 he flew POWs back to the UK in Lancasters. The second part of this document covers 'Exhibits', mementoes, documents and photographs of his service records.
Format
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24 typewritten sheets
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
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BFortPaullMusStavesMEv1
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Germany
Great Britain
Italy
Poland
England--Hull
England--Lincolnshire
England--Nottinghamshire
England--London
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Dortmund-Ems Canal
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Nordhausen (Thuringia)
Germany--Thuringia
Italy--Rome
Poland--Police (Województwo Zachodniopomorskie)
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Yorkshire
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943
1944
1945
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
David Bloomfield
Tricia Marshall
106 Squadron
166 Squadron
207 Squadron
aircrew
animal
bombing of Dresden (13 - 15 February 1945)
entertainment
Lancaster
memorial
Operation Dodge (1945)
Pathfinders
prisoner of war
RAF Bridgnorth
RAF Dumfries
RAF Madley
RAF Metheringham
RAF Spilsby
RAF Syerston
RAF Winthorpe
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1038/11410/PMorrisPG1701.1.jpg
dbe8fd14d0cec7f62ab5484ff8161149
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1038/11410/AMorrisPG171010.2.mp3
2abe2291828666848d77cd6c852668b9
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
Morris, Peter
P G Morris
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with Peter Morris (b.1925, 1813258 Royal Air Force). He flew operations with 90, 42 and 120 Squadrons.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-10-10
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Morris, PG
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
RP: This interview is being conducted on behalf of the International Bomber Command Centre. The interviewer is Rod Pickles. The interviewee is Peter Morris. The interview is taking place at Mr Morris’ home in Collompton, Devon on the 10th of October 2017. Francis Platt is also present. Good morning, Peter. Could you start by telling us when and where you were born and what led you to joining the RAF, please?
PM: Well, I was born in East Ham in East London in the June of 1925. I lived in London throughout the Blitz and I suppose was full of bravado when the ATC started in 1941. I joined. And I decided to train as air crew. And after a couple of years in the Air Training Corps at seventeen I joined the Royal Air Force and I was accepted to train as either a pilot bomb aimer or navigator. I was called up just two weeks before my eighteenth birthday and I went initially on an education course because I left school at fourteen and I was keen to get my education better. And after that I went through the normal basic training for the RAF which was just the normal square bashing and so on. And I spent twelve hours flying on Tiger Moths to see whether I’d got the application to be a pilot. But I wasn’t too keen. And then after a lot more [pause] I then did more aptitude tests in London and it was decided that I should train as a navigator. And then I was sent to Heaton Park in Manchester which was a holding unit for air crew and I was there for nearly six months waiting for a navigation course. At the time they told us that the losses in Bomber Command were less than they were expecting. Well, as one in two got killed I wondered just how many they were expecting.
RP: Well, yes.
PM: And whilst I was there they called for volunteers to go to Hornchurch, just outside London to help repair houses damaged by the V-1 Doodlebugs and I went down there. Spent about a month repairing houses just killing time. And then we were called back to Heaton Park and then they decided they would send us, a group of us went to RAF Waterbeach to work on the bomb dump. The armourers just couldn’t cope at the time as there were twenty aircraft on the station and there were some that were doing two raids a day. And when you had to prepare all the bombs for it. So, we arrived at Waterbeach and the next day we were sent to the bomb dump and there we were shown the bombs that we had to prepare. There were four thousand pound bombs which needed a nose ring fitted because they had pressure fuses in them to help build the pressure up in the noses and the tail fin had to be fitted. And also the lugs which held the bomb on to the aircraft had to be screwed on. Then we had the thousand pounders and there you had to fit the tail units and also you had to fit, fit the fuses in the nose. The only thing we weren’t allowed to do, we weren’t allowed to put the detonators in because the detonators were very very touchy and they could go off with the warmth of your hand and so the armourers would fit the detonators. They would screw in the pistols so that was all ready. Another job we weren’t allowed to do were the long delay fuses because they had, not like the Germans, apparently they had a clockwork system. Our long defused, long delay fuses had acid and various forms of plastic rings and as the acid burned through the rings and then it let the firing pin go forward and set the bomb off. But they had an anti-handling device. You only had to turn it half a turn and it would release the trigger and the bomb went off. So we weren’t allowed to do that. The armourers had to do that. And of course the armourers put them on the aircraft. It was quite a job to think that everyone had to be hand winched up in to the aircraft. And we were there for about a month. The first day I was there we got there about 9 o’clock in the morning and I, still there 9 o’clock the following morning. We had spent all night. They brought food out to us at the bomb dump and we were just getting these bombs ready for them to get on the aircraft. And I remember sitting on a thousand pounder and I fell asleep sitting on it until someone woke me up. And then another job we had doing were packing incendiary bombs. As incendiary bombs they came originally a hundred and fifty in a canister and then they extended the canister so they could get another fifty in each side. So there were three sets of bombs in them and we had to fit another hundred and fifty incendiary bombs in these canisters. And these were small bombs. They were hexagonal shape and there was a small fire, a small pin which you had to fit so that it was kept shut by the can, by the hexagonal shape. And I remember one of the chaps, he happened to accidentally drop one and it went off. We were doing this in a hangar and he had the presence of mind to throw it out the door of the hangar. And the next thing we knew the fire brigade had arrived. They’d seen all the smoke going up —
RP: Yeah.
PM: From this incendiary bomb. But they were very touchy. We were, as I say we were there for about a month doing this and then they, we were called back to Heaton Park because they said that I’d got a navigation course and I was fortunate in many ways because the course was on the Isle of Man. At Jurby. And so I went across to the Isle of Man and qualified as a navigator there and finally qualified in May 1945 just as the VE Day had been declared. And then I went on to train on Wellingtons in preparation to go out to the Far East. And again they dropped the bomb and that stopped that. And from the Wellingtons we went on to Lancasters and I finally went, finished up on a squadron in Bomber Command. Number 90 Squadron at RAF Tuddenham in February 1946.
RP: So most of your war then was dealing with waiting for a course and then —
PM: Yes. Yes. I was, I was a good six months waiting for a navigation course.
RP: And then its VE Day and you don’t see any action.
PM: VE day. They didn’t know what to do with us when we finally qualified and we were sent home on indefinite leave and I had about six weeks at home. And then I got a telegram telling me to report to Number 26 Operational Training Unit at RAF Wing near Leighton Buzzard. And then that was on Wellingtons. And from there, as I say, through to Lancasters.
RP: So when, when you sort of realised that, you know, after the VJ day.
PM: Yeah.
RP: Were you, were you feeling relieved or disappointed? Can you remember?
PM: A bit of both. You obviously at that time you didn’t really know what it was like to go on ops and you always thought that’s what you joined for but at the same time you were relieved that you hadn’t have to go.
RP: Yeah. But did you, when you were at Waterbeach did you meet any of the air crew? Did you get to know any?
PM: No.
RP: You weren’t —
PM: No.
RP: In touch with any of them.
PM: No. No. I think they deliberately kept us out of the way of air crew because they knew what was happening and we didn’t.
RP: So, so only a month. You didn’t feel inclined to become an armourer then.
PM: Oh, no. No.
RP: Seen what they were doing.
PM: No. I wanted to be a navigator.
RP: So you qualified as a navigator. It’s now 1946.
PM: Yeah.
RP: So what happens then?
PM: Then in 1946 they brought out a scheme where you could sign on for three years in the RAF and four years Reserve and they’d give you a hundred pounds for doing it which was a lot of money in those days. And I decided I would sign on and so I signed on for the three years and four Reserve and I remained on the squadron. And then there was trouble out in Yugoslavia and we were sent as an advance party out to Malta to be prepared for going bombing Yugoslavia as they’d attacked one of our ships and also attacked an aircraft I believe. And we spent ten days there and then the whole thing fizzled out and we flew back home again. Then the squadron moved to RAF Wyton which was a permanent station whereas Tuddenham was a wartime base and we re-equipped with Lincoln aircraft. And whilst on Lincolns we had the job of testing the new auto pilot. And one of the jobs that we had was to test it to see how it went and operated under bumpy conditions and low level. At that time everybody’s gradually getting demobbed and there were only two navigators on the squadron at one time, myself and the nav leader. And so anything that happened one of us had to go along. And the navi didn’t want to go on this particular trip so I went along and they said, well we went to the Met Office and, ‘Where can we find bumpy conditions at low level?’ They said, ’How about the Nile Valley?’ And sort of tongue in cheek we said, ‘Great. We’ll apply for it,’ and they accepted. And so we then, we flew out to the Canal Zone in the Middle East and to start with we used the autopilot as the bomb aimer had a control in the bomb aimer’s position for doing bombing runs. We did some bombing runs in the desert there. And then we flew low level along the Nile up to Khartoum. So around about fifty to a hundred feet mostly, up along the Nile with the autopilot in all the way. And then from Khartoum we flew to Nairobi and again at low level. Not quite so low because it was mainly jungle we were flying over. Whilst at Nairobi it was Battle of Britain Day and they asked us if we would do an air display for them which we were quite happy to do. We did that and then again flew back the way we came out and back to RAF Wyton. I remained on the squadron then until, it must have been about the end of 1948. ’47. And one of the other navigators on the squadron had been posted to RAF Coningsby as an instructor on Mosquitoes. And they wanted another instructor there because I had done an instructor’s course when I signed on. They wanted people to be instructors and he volunteered me against my will to go on to Coningsby to fly on Mosquitoes. And I turned up at Coningsby and our job there was to train the navigators in using GH which was a blind bombing radar device. Of course, we couldn’t show them in the aircraft because it only, only held two people. So we had an Anson Mark 19 fitted out with all the gear on it and we trained them on that. But I wasn’t too happy flying in Mosquitoes. You didn’t have a navigation table. You had a piece of board on your knees. Your chart was pinned on it with drawing pins and all your instruments were on pieces of string all around because if you dropped it you’d never find it again. I preferred the heavies. And the nav leader there said, ‘Well, you’re not happy on these are you?’ I said, ‘No. I’d rather go back to heavies.’ They then posted me to RAF Lindholme to do a course to go back on to them again. And when they found out I was a qualified instructor they were one short and they said, ‘Will you remain as an instructor on navigation?’ Which I was quite happy to do. And so there I was training people to use H2S which was a radar which showed a picture of the ground underneath you. It was very primitive compared with what there is now but we were doing that. And [pause] and I remained there until nearly 1950. And towards the end of that time the wing commander flying called me in and said was I interested in taking a commission? And I said, well yes I was. I’d got nothing to lost. And I filled all my papers in and waited and waited. Nothing happened. The wing commander called me into his office. He said, ‘Very sorry. Your application’s been lost.’
RP: Dear me.
PM: ‘Will you fill them in again?’ Which I did. I filled them in and waited, and waited and waited. Nothing happened. And again he said, ‘We’re awfully sorry,’ he said, ‘But they’ve been lost again.’ So I filled in a third lot and again I waited and waited. I was getting a bit upset now because to start with I had now finished my three years and I was on no contract whatsoever with the Air Force to remain in.
RP: And what rank were you at this time?
PM: At that time we were, our ranks had changed. We had air crew ranks.
RP: Yeah.
PM: And we were called navigator 2 which was the equivalent of a sergeant.
RP: Oh right. So here you are. It’s your third application. Does it go through?
PM: It was the third application. And at the same time I’d applied to sign on to do twenty two years in the RAF.
RP: Right.
PM: And again, I went and he said, ‘It’s been lost again.’ Well, I was getting a bit cross now and I said, ‘Sir, you can stick your commission. I will sign on ‘til I, to do twenty two.’ And he more or less agreed with it. We left it at that. And I then applied to do an advanced navigation course and I was accepted. And I went to RAF Shawbury and did the advanced navigation course. It was the most concentrated course I’ve ever done in my life, I think. In six weeks we went from basic algebra to spherical trigonometry and your head was absolutely buzzing. You had to learn about every piece of equipment you had in the aircraft. Not how to use it but how it was made and how it operated. And that took us about three months and then I was posted to RAF Swinderby as an instructor at an Advanced Flying Unit and then back on to Wellingtons again. And while I was in Lincoln I met my old nav leader who was at Scampton and he said, ‘They found your applications. They were all in the station commander’s office when it was the station commander’s home amongst newspapers when he was posted. And they found they were all there.’ Which made me a bit upset.
RP: Yeah. So they couldn’t, couldn’t initiate it from there then?
PM: No. No. So, I remained at Swinderby for, was it two, two years because that was the average time you stayed at any unit. And from there I was posted on to a ground course. Ground crew out in Germany to be at a fighter plotting unit. And when I got there the first thing they said to me, you know, ‘Well, have you trained on this?’ I said, ‘I haven’t.’ They said, ‘Well, you’re no good to us.’ So they sent me to RAF Oldenburg where they had a small mobile radar unit with a mobile plotting table and quite honestly it was a doddle because as a navigator you knew all the maps and so on. It was just a case of sitting at a table watching airmen pushing little arrows around. Much as you see on the Battle of Britain things. And I did that for two and a half years. And at the end of that I was posted back to England and I had to go to Air Ministry for them to decide where I wanted to go from there. By now I’d gone up a rank. I was now a flight sergeant as they’d brought back the old ranks again. And initially I said, ‘Well, can I go on helicopters?’ as my friend had gone on helicopters. They said, ‘Oh no. Not with your experience. How about Coastal Command?’ So, that will do me. And so I was posted then to RAF St Mawgan to train in Coastal Command and I did my basic training there and then was posted to Kinloss up in Scotland to train on the Shackleton Mark 1. And from there I was, when I finished the course I was posted to RAF St Eval where we had Shackleton Mark 2s. So I arrived on 42 Squadron in September of 1946. I went in to the orderly room to book in and the first thing they said to me, ‘Can you go overseas at a moment’s notice? Otherwise,’ he said, ‘We’ll send you to another squadron.’
RP: You said 46.
PM: Fifty.
RP: ’56. Yeah.
PM: ’56.
RP: I think Shackletons weren’t around then.
PM: No. They Weren’t. No. 1956.
RP: ‘56 yeah.
PM: And so, apparently the squadron had just been made the colonial policing squadron and this involved us going out to Aden for short terms. Well, my wife was heavily pregnant at the time but I didn’t tell them and I said, ‘No, it’s alright. I can go.’ And we then had to train from using the low level bombsight which the Shackleton was fitted with to using a high level bombsight which was the Bomber Command bombsight. And we spent several months dropping bombs on a practice range. And then the squadron was moving out there at four aircraft at a time. Four would go out to Aden and then as they were relieved by the other four that were back in St Eval. And it was in July of 1956, ’57 now that our crew was posted, was sent out to Aden. And we were not allowed to fly across the Arab countries because they refused us permission because they said we were going on a warlike mission against other Arab nations. And so we had to stow the guns inside the aircraft because we had two cannon in the nose of the Shackleton and we flew out first to Cyprus. From Cyprus we flew along the borders between Turkey and Syria, down through Iraq, down to Bahrain and from Bahrain we flew down across the desert over Muscat Omans area. Right down until we reached Aden. And [pause] and when we arrived in Aden the temperature was terribly hot. Forty degree plus. At times it was fifty degrees there. First several flights that we did were getting used to the area. We flew with one of the crews from one of the other aircraft because the maps were so poor there. There wasn’t any satellite navigation then and so you more or less had to make the maps up as you flew. And so we got to know the area we flew over. It was mainly along the Yemen border with Aden. And the idea was to, to look out for people that were coming across the borders and causing trouble. This was a sort of a pastime for them. They would come across the border, fire a few rounds off and go back home again. And we did this. I suppose [pause] living up in that area was an RAF intelligence officer. In fact, he lived just like an Arab. Dressed like an Arab. He even looked like an Arab. And he would, we would contact him and he would give us directions to fly to check on at certain areas. A couple of times we had to do some bombing runs. We had fourteen one thousand pound bombs and we had to drop these in areas where the RAF Venoms, they couldn’t reach because they would normally go with rockets. But the mountain, it was so mountainous there because most of it was six thousand feet. And down in the valleys the Venoms couldn’t get in so we would go and drop bombs where these intruders had gone in. A couple of occasions where they’d misbehaved they would go and warn them and drop leaflets and say at such and such a day at such and such a time we’re going to come and bomb your fields. And so they kept clear and then we’d go and we’d drop a stick of bombs across their fields to make them, to bring them back into line again. Then one Saturday morning we were called in and they said, ‘Right. You’ve got to go Bahrain immediately. Don’t know what for but get your kit and off you go.’ And so we got our kit and we flew up to Bahrain. Sunday morning they said, ‘Right, you’re going to fly over Muscat Oman. And you’re to go with a Pembroke pilot from here that will show you around the area.’ So we took off and we flew over to, near a place called Nizwa which was a large sort of town almost and in the centre of it was a very large circular fort. And there’d been an uprising. The Sultan’s brother had rebelled against him and we had an agreement with the Sultan that if he was in danger then the RAF or the British forces would go and, go and help him. So that’s what we were there for. The pilot of the Pembroke was showing us around and he took us up one valley. He said, ‘Well, you can turn around when you get to end and come back again.’ Well, you could in a Pembroke. But in a Shackleton no way. And when we got to the end there was this great cliff in front of us and with full power on we just managed to scrape over the top of it. So we decided we wouldn’t go up that valley again. And then our role then was to fly out every day and we were given certain villages to fly over. Some were friendly. Some weren’t. And we had to observe what they were doing. And this went on for about seven or eight days and in that time nothing seemed to be happening very much but we’d been building up. The army had flown in. The paratroopers had arrived at Bahrain and they were going to be flown out to an airfield which was on an oil well out in Muscat and they would march across the desert to attack from that side. And we were dropping leaflets all the time. We had different colour leaflets. I think it was white ones to drop to friendly areas and pink ones to drop to enemy areas. More or less telling them you know one was saying the Sultan was a good man. The other one was saying you’ve got to stop what you’re doing and come and join the Sultan. All that sort of thing. Anyway, on one of the trips we carried a group captain who was the senior air staff officer for Middle East Command. He wanted to see what was going on and again we had the leaflets to drop. And on one particular village, a place called Firq, which was just south of Nizwa it was a very small fort there and they said, ‘Right, you’ve got to drop these leaflets. They’ve got to go in the fort but they mustn’t go outside it.’ Well it’s not very easy when you’re dropping leaflets like that and so we decided we’d go in at about five hundred feet and drop these leaflets. And we were in the middle of dropping them and we felt like a ripple go through the aircraft. We realised we’d been hit by small arms fire. We were very lucky really because in the nose of the aircraft there were three of us. There was the bomb aimer, that was the other navigator in the nose, there was one of the sergeant signallers who was putting the leaflets down the flare chute and the group captain and a bullet came up. It hit the switch right underneath them, split it in half. Missed them all. One half went in and hit the co-pilot’s intercom box so it knocked it out completely. He didn’t know what was going on. And the other half later we dug out of a tin of sweets in the emergency rations. In the tail there was a tail lookout and the chap laid in the tail look out had a bullet go in by his shoulder and go out above his head. And we decided it was time to clear the area. And I remember our captain, he called up the two Venoms that were attacking another village up the road and said, ‘Watch this place. They’re sharpshooters.’ And one of them said, ‘Oh, I’ll save a rocket for them on the way back.’ And this group captain was on immediately, ‘No. No. No. No. They’ve got to be told first.’ As we were dropping leaflets telling them that they would be attacked the following day. And when we landed back at Bahrain we found there were other holes in the wings where again we were so lucky. Your wings are full of petrol and full of wires and it missed everything. Gone right through the wings in out through the top and nothing was damaged at all. And I remember they, they repaired the holes. They hadn’t have anything to repair them with so they used aluminium beer cans and riveted them over the holes. They were, the following day we took off again and we were told there we’d got to be there before eight in the morning and again go in low level, dropping leaflets telling them they would be attacked within half an hour. They weren’t too pleased about that. Anyway, we got there and we thought that we’d wake them up so we flew across firing our twenty mil cannon to make them keep their heads down. Then came back, dropped our leaflets and came home. We had to allow for the loss of ammunition and so we said we’d done some air sea firing on the way home to account for the ammunition and got admonished for wasting ammunition in that way. Anyway, the, the army did attack that day and the Venoms went in first with the rockets and attacked the fort and then the paratroopers moved in and they gradually drove them up. At Nizwa they’d got a tanker, a lorry which was the, been going from one of the oil wells. They had captured the crew of the tanker and had got them in this large fort and they had said if we attacked the fort they would hang them over the balconies. And we could actually see them there over because it was a big circular fort and we could see the chaps there so obviously we didn’t attack it. Eventually they did get in and they drove the rebels up in to Jabal Akhdar which was an eight thousand foot high mountain nearby and it finished up with the SAS going up the mountain and sorting them out. And that was the end of the sorties there. Before it actually finished the CinC Bomber Comm, the CinC Middle East Command ordered that we be sent back to Bahrain. He said, ‘Go back there and cool off.’ But if you can imagine cooling off in Bahrain. Anyway, we decided, well we didn’t decide we were sent back to Bahrain to have a so-called rest. And the next day we were told we’d got to go on a bombing raid and two aircraft were involved. One of the flight commander’s and our aircraft. And we loaded up with fourteen one thousand pound bombs and as the flight commander was taking off white smoke started pouring out of all four engines and he just managed to pull it to a halt at the end of the runway, and they cancelled the bombing raid. And they found that in the heat in Aden we used a thing called water metholated, water meth which gave increased power to the engines and this was injected in to the engines. And in the heat it had distilled out and it just put straight water into the engines and so it didn’t do them any good. And the following day we again, having found this out they changed all the water meth and we’d loaded. Loaded up again with the bombs and took off and we did the raid up in the hills. And a couple of days later we were sent back to Bahrain to assist because now they were carrying out bombing raids using, using small anti-personnel bombs. These were nasty little things. They went off above the ground. They had got loads of sprung steel in them and you got this spring steel going around which did a lot of damage to whoever they were dropped on. We didn’t like them particularly because they had a pressure fuse in them and occasionally, there was one occasion in fact where the bombs started going off and they set the bombs going off behind them and they almost went back up to the aircraft again. So we weren’t too happy about using them. I think they’ve now been banned from use because they’re considered not the right thing to use [pause] Then the length of time of time we stayed in Bahrain or in Aden depended on the number of hours the aircraft had flown. We were supposed to be up there for three months but we’d done so much flying over Bahrain from Bahrain that we had reached our target in about six weeks. And so again we had to fly home and [pause] and two aircraft were coming back to the UK. One was a flight commander and he took off just about twenty minutes in front of us and this time we were allowed to fly over the Arab countries because we weren’t going on a warlike mission. And so we flew down the Red Sea across the border of Abyssinia and then right across the Libyan desert, the Sahara Desert to a place called Castel Benito, which was an ex-Italian airfield. It took us about twelve hours I suppose to fly across there and we landed there and there was no sign of the flight commander who had gone in front of us. And about an hour later I bumped into the navigator from that aircraft. I said, ‘What happened to you?’ Oh, the flight commander was there as well. He said, ‘How did you get here before of us?’ And jokingly I said, ‘Stayed on track all the way, sir.’ Which didn’t go down too well because his navigator apparently, just after take-off, the flight commander came back to see, look at the charts, dropped a cup of water over his chart completely soaking it. And he’d picked it up and screwed it up and throwed it away when he realised he hadn’t have another chart. There wasn’t another one for that area. So he’d had to get it out, unscrew it, stretch it out and of course now it was all out of shape and apparently they got quite lost going across the desert and they landed about an hour after us.
RP: Not the right thing to say then. Yeah. He was still speaking to you afterwards.
PM: Oh yes. He did after. He was normally quite a decent chap but he blew his top a bit. Anyway, the following day we took off and came back to UK. While we were in Aden we were being relieved by 35 Squadron which had been based in Malta and that was going to go to Aden permanently and remain there. And so that was the end of the squadron’s flying out in Aden. We then returned to our normal Coastal Command duties. One of them of course was air sea rescue and quite often we got a call out to go after, to go over the Atlantic Ocean to assist [pause] Constellation aircraft. They had a habit of losing engines coming across the Atlantic and we would fly out at a thousand feet and they would be up at twenty thousand feet and we would call them up and they would say, you know, ‘Assist us,’ and so we would turn around and fly back again, and usually they had landed at Heathrow before we got back to St Eval because they were going a lot faster than us on three engines than we were doing on four. The end of my tour there the squadron commander called me in. He said, ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’m afraid that NCO navigators aren’t going to be employed on RAF operational squadrons anymore. So,’ he said, ‘Your time in Coastal is finished now.’ And he said, ‘What I have got here is, I’ve got a piece of paper that’s just come to me that says that they want volunteers to go and serve on Thor missiles as this is going to be the new Bomber Command. I suggest, I suggest you do that. At least you’re guaranteed a job then.’ So I thought about that. So I applied for this and I had to go to Air Ministry to be interviewed and the interviewer was a wing commander who I’d known as a flight lieutenant on 90 Squadron. So that was the end of the interview really. We just chatted and I was accepted and we then sailed across to, well we were busy. We were going to New York but we went on a Canadian Pacific ship. We went across to Montreal and our first stop was Quebec and then we sailed up the St Lawrence to Montreal. Beautiful river. Lovely day. And it was marvellous sailing along there. It’s a huge river because if you imagine there you’ve got these large ocean going liners and two of them could pass quite easily along the river. From there we got the train to New York where we were given a couple of days off and we managed to go up the Empire State Building while I was there. And then we got an aircraft to take us to Tucson in Arizona and it was a DC4. And it was supposed to land at Tucson Municipal Airport. Well. the pilot thinking as we were all RAF and we were all going to go eventually to [pause] we were going to be stationed at Davis-Monthan, which was a SAC base in Arizona. And so for some reason the pilot decided to land at Davis-Monthan. Well, SAC bases are very very security tight and an aircraft suddenly coming in which they’re not expecting they don’t go much on and they sent us over to the far side of the airfield. We were ringed with machine guns and first of all they wouldn’t let us out of the aeroplane. Well, it’s very hot in Tucson at the end of August, the beginning of September. And eventually they let us out but they surrounded us with the guards with machine guns. And eventually they sorted it out. Apparently, they’d been waiting for us at the municipal airport with a group of local dignitaries to greet us there.
RP: Right.
PM: And when they managed to sort it out it was only a case of driving through the gate because we were billeted just outside the main airfield in Davis-Monthan. We spent a month there learning about the missile. It was so new then they hadn’t actually fired one successfully. The instructor we had was on the previous course and that’s his knowledge was what he’d been told on the previous course there. But we, see we spent a month there and then we got sent on a Constellation to fly out to Los Angeles. And from there we went to [pause] from there we went to Vandenberg which was the main missile base in the States at that time and we carried on with the course there. We actually saw the missile for the first time but again they hadn’t fired one successfully. We saw various films of them taking off and then crash landing and exploding and so on but not one that actually worked. And when we’d finished the course there it was now December and they decided they would fly us back to New York and normally what happened you caught one of the Queens and they flew you, brought you back to UK. And when we got to New York it was freezing cold. When we’d left California we were in shorts. Eighty degrees. There was snow on the ground in New York and the temperature was minus goodness knows what. And it was like walking into a brick wall as you walked out of the aircraft with the change in the temperature. Anyway, they, they said, ‘Well, at the moment we can’t find any way to get you home so we’ll leave you in New York.’ We were abandoned there for ten days which was great. We were given ten dollars a day expenses to live in New York and we were billeted initially in the Governor Clinton Hotel. But they were expensive in there. They charged you four dollars a night just for the bed and then you had to pay for your breakfast and everything on top of that. And we found that the YM, you could do it for a dollar a night and so a number of us moved into the YM and stayed there. Of those who stayed at the Governor Clinton would tell us if anything had happened and they wanted us for going home. The beauty, while we were there is that we had American ID cards and so we could go into their [pause] they had a very good United Services Organisation there and you could go in there, show them your ID card and you’d get free tickets to any theatre in Broadway, any cinema in Broadway and through the day you could go on various tours. And I managed to go through the United Nations building on one tour. Another one they took us up inside the Statue of Liberty where you could climb right up to the top and the band around the Statue of Liberty’s head they are actually windows that you can look out. We were there for, as I say about ten days and then they managed to get Douglas DC6 to fly us home to the UK on Christmas Eve. And so we flew home. I managed to get a taxi home from London Airport as it was then. And so that was the end of my tour there. And from there I was posted to RAF Hemswell in Lincolnshire. That was the main base for the missiles. But there were a number of squadrons and each squadron was based at a different base. These were mainly the old wartime bases and I was sent to number 106 Squadron which was stationed at Bardney. Which again was a wartime airfield. But we still hadn’t got the missiles then. In fact, they were still building the site. The missile goes into a covered shelter and they hadn’t even got the shelters there. They were still putting in the rails for them to work on and it must have been six months or more before it was completed. And then the missiles started to arrive. They were flown over from the States in the large American aircraft. Then sent through the streets to the various sites. And when we’ve actually got them then we had to start the proper shift system because they had to be manned twenty four hours a day as the oil in the guidance system was so touchy that if the temperature changed the oil would solidify and would ruin the gyros which cost thousands of pounds to replace. And so we had to be there all the time with them. This meant manning twenty four hours a day as I say. And then we were put on a shift system where we’d do four days mornings, four days afternoons, four days nights. Four days off. This went on for ever and ever and ever. It was the most boring job in the world because you couldn’t do anything with a missile other than just watch it. Anyway, after a few months they asked me if I’d like to go to Hemswell, the main base to work in the main office there. The training office. And I said, ‘Yeah. I’m quite happy to do that,’ because it was nearer to where I was living. I was living on a caravan at the site at the time because we couldn’t get married quarters there. And so I went there and the role there was to doing, checking on the missiles because every now and again one of them would be selected and the crew would do a practice firing. This involved pumping liquid oxygen into the tank on the missile itself. It carried eighty six thousand gallons of liquid oxygen. And then it also had an eighty err seventy five gallons of fuel. And this was pumped in to a tanker because they didn’t want to get the two together to risk any chance that they might fire. The igniters were taken out so they couldn’t possibly fire. And we’d go through a practice countdown and our role was to go out and just check to see that they’d pressed the right switches and so on. This was much better. It was a more interesting job than I was doing before. Shortly after that I was promoted to master navigator which was warrant officer rank. And I did, I carried on doing that for two or three months. And then I applied to sign on ‘til I was fifty five. And again the letter that came back from Air Ministry did I want to take a commission? So I spoke to my wife and we thought about it and I said, ‘Well, what can I lose?’ I get a higher pension as a commissioned officer than I would as a warrant officer. But I get more respect as a warrant officer than I get as a commissioned. So we decided I’d try and go for the commission. And I went, I had to go to see the AOC, the air officer commanding the area to be interviewed by him. And the day before a corporal in our orderly room had gone up to see him so I said, ‘What did he ask you then?’ ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘He wanted to know, because we’d been to America he wanted to know the American system of parliament. Or the equivalent of our parliament. He also, apparently he’d been the air officer in Pakistan and so he asked him about Pakistan. And so he said he also wanted to know who the various Commonwealth prime ministers were. So that night I did a quick check up on all those. I went and sat down in his office and he said, ‘Oh, yes,’ he said. Tell me, what’s the system in the States for their parliament sort of system.’ And I was able to explain it to him, you know. He said, ‘What’s the set up in Pakistan now?’ I said, ‘I think there’s been a coup recently and the army had taken over.’ ‘Who’s the prime minister of Canada? Who’s the prime minster of — ’ He said, ‘You seem to be very well read.’ He said, ‘That’s ok.’ That was the end of the interview. And then I went to Jurby again on the Isle of Man for three months to train as an officer. And at the end of that I qualified as a flying officer rather than a pilot officer the way most of them did because if you were a warrant officer you went up a rank. And the beauty of it was that you had to be paid more than a warrant officer got. And a warrant officer got more than a normal flying officer got. So I was on a higher rate of pay and the commission I had was called a branch commission which was especially for NCO aircrew and it, after three years you were automatically promoted to flight lieutenant. So at the end of the course I was then posted back to Coastal Command and I went up to Kinloss and there we now had Mark 3 Shackletons. And I had to do the course again. And the thing that did annoy me was that they insisted that I did a basic navigation training course again. And so I waited at Kinloss for a while. I was attached to 120 Squadron until I’d done this navigation course. They were doing several trips there and on one of them going to Gibraltar for the weekend. I said, ‘Well, can I come along with you?’ And they said, ‘Yeah, great,’ you know,’ you can. You’re welcome.’ And I said to one of the navigators, ‘Can I have a go on the table? Give me a chance to get my hand back in.’ He said, ‘Yeah, sure.’ And when I went to go the captain of the aircraft said, ‘Definitely not.’ He said, ‘You’ve haven’t done your refresher course yet.’ He said, ‘You can’t, obviously you can’t go on.’ So I thought fair enough. I went down the back of the aircraft. Got my head down. This was a night flight out there. And after about an hour someone woke me up and they said, ‘Would you come forward?’ So I said, ‘Yeah.’ And when I got forward both the navigators were sick. Would I take over? Which pleased me no end. And we’d only now were just sort of going down the Irish Sea. And so I managed to take over and sort of, sort out where I thought we were. And then that engine packed in and so we diverted into RAF St Mawgan. And while we were on the ground there the other two other navigators recovered themselves and so they took over and they flew it down to Gibraltar so I was a passenger then there and back. But it did amuse me a little bit. And anyway, I did the navigation course at Topcliffe and then back to Kinloss. Did the basic Coastal Command course all over again and then back on to 120 Squadron and there I became, we had first and second navigators. The senior navigator was the first navigator and the junior one was second navigator. I became the second navigator on a crew. The first navigator, he had already done a tour in Gibraltar and he, we were back on, under our normal coastal work which was surveillance of, the Russian fleet was always floating around somewhere in the North Atlantic and we kept surveillance on them. Russian submarines were continually turning up close to our shores and we would do surveillance on them. And also they had fishing boats which were absolutely covered with aerials. We called them ELINTS — Electronic Intelligence vessels and we would have to go out and try and locate them and when you’ve got somewhere three or four hundred Russian fishing vessels and the Russians they used the same type of fishing vessels for everything and so they were all exactly the same. But one of them would have all these aerials on them. You would have to find that one in amongst all this lot. And once you’d located it of course then you could keep track of it and see what it was doing. Once they were located they realised they’d been caught and they would sort of clear off. On one of the occasions we used to fly out quite often to Iceland and we’d do a patrol going up to Iceland. Then from Iceland we would patrol across to Bodo in Norway and have a couple of days on the ground in Norway and then another patrol back to Kinloss again. And on this occasion we were flying up to Iceland and we came across a Russian submarine support vessel which we reported back and when we landed in Iceland there was a great fuss on there because they hadn’t, didn’t realise it was in the area. Normally the Americans had sort of passed on the information but they didn’t even know it was there and our AOC in Scotland ordered us to take off as soon as we could to relocate it. Well, the following day there was a seventy five knot gale blowing at Iceland. The station commander had closed the station. He said it wasn’t safe to take off because it wasn’t down the runway. And our AOC ordered him to open the station up, to open up the disused runway which luckily was straight into wind and we were to take off. And so we did this and we couldn’t locate the aircraft err the ship on the way back. We went back to Kinloss. The following day we had another panic on. A Russian submarine had been located in the training grounds just off Northern Ireland where the navy did all their training with us and often they would join in the exercises. Anyway, they located this submarine right in the middle of it and four of us were ordered off that night to try and locate it and try to force it out of the area. And we’d been airborne about twenty minutes and the aircraft behind us we had a call, a mayday call, he’d got an engine fire and he was returning to Kinloss and the engine, they couldn’t put the fire out and it spread along the wing and set the second engine on fire. And he was, managed to get across over Inverness and he crashed it on Culloden Moor. In fact he crashed he said by the light from the flames from the engines he could see where he was going. And all the crew luckily got out. Now, that aircraft was the one that we’d flown in on the day before. It had only done twenty minutes flying from when we took off from Iceland. If it had happened the day before we wouldn’t have had a hope in hell because of the winds blowing like that. As I say there wouldn’t have been a hope in hell of us getting back anywhere. Anyway, we, one of our aircraft did locate the submarine and it was forced to the surface and it was escorted out of the area. We then had what was considered a jolly. We were going down to South Africa, to Cape Town and we were going to join because the South Africans also had Mark 3 Shackletons and we were going to do exercises with them. The British Navy was down there with their Navy and the American Navy and the American Naval aircraft were there as well. And we flew, this time we flew down to El Adem in North Africa, in Libya. From there we flew across the desert at night to Nairobi. From Nairobi we flew down to Salisbury or Harare as it’s called now. From Harare we flew to Ysterplaat which is the airfield just outside Cape Town where we were going to be based. And we did one exercise with the Navy and then we were going to do another one that night and our CO took one look at the weather, he said, ‘No. We’re not going. It’s a waste of time because the sea state would be so great that you wouldn’t be able to do anything anyway.’ And he decided to cancel the exercise but the South Africans, with their Mark 3s they decided no. They were going to go ahead and do it. Anyway, the next morning we’d had a tremendous gale in the night. In fact, it was hurricane that had gone through and we were immediately, we were called in immediately after breakfast and were told that the aircraft that had taken off was missing. They reckoned that the winds at six odd thousand feet were a hundred and fifty knots and they hadn’t heard from take-off. Anyway, we were the first aircraft to go and we were ordered to go and fly the route that he was supposed to have taken. And we flew out over the, the sea. I was getting winds of seventy five and eighty knots as we sort of went out. The sea was absolutely mountainous. There wasn’t a hope in hell of anybody surviving if it had gone down there sand we flew out and were airborne for about thirteen hours and found absolutely nothing and so we came back. And the following day they said there was a slight chance he might have gone down in the bay outside Cape Town. And two of our, two aircraft were ordered out to go and do a close search of the bay. Whilst there in fact we noticed what we thought might be some wreckage and the thing was if you saw anything like that you’d immediately divert the nearest merchant ship to go and pick it up. And we came across a large Japanese bulk carrier and we did the normal fly across the bows and put the engines up and down to attract his attention. He didn’t take the blindest bit of notice so we came back again and we fired green verey cartridges across the bow. No notice. We came back again with red cartridges this time. Took no notice whatsoever so it obviously wasn’t, I suppose there probably wasn’t anybody on the bridge. And when we landed back apparently he had been called in to Cape Town and they were heavily fined for not following the rules of the sea. Anyway, our CO as we were more conversant with air sea rescue we were given the sort of the control of what was going on and he got the tapes from the tower and listened to them and very very faint, “Mayday. Mayday,” shortly after take-off and they decided they would use a helicopter and go and look in the mountains just off Cape Town. And as they flew over the mountain they could see, they found the aircraft at the bottom of one of the valleys upside down. And the sonar buoys that we carried were bright dayglo orange and it was upside down. The bomb doors had burst open and so they could see these sonar buoys there so they knew immediately what it was. And of course all the crew had been killed. And they must have got into huge turbulence and it flipped the aircraft upside down and that was the end of that. Anyway, the South Africans decided to call the exercise off. And so we stayed there for a little bit longer. They managed to fly us down to Durban for the weekend. We went down there on one of the South African Dakotas. And then we flew home again.
RP: So what year was that?
PM: That was in 1963. Then we went back to our normal sort of surveillance work we were doing and I applied to do the weapons instructor’s course that was actually at Kinloss. And before I could go on that they sent me to RAF Uxbridge which is the RAF School of Education to do an instructor’s course. And I went there and I managed to qualify with an A2 instructor’s category and I went back to Kinloss, did the course as a weapons instructor and back on the squadron where I was made squadron weapons officer. I was then promoted flight lieutenant. And I then got a message through saying I was going to be posted to Malta. Shortly after that I got another message saying I was going to the Maritime Operational Training Unit as a weapon’s instructor. Apparently they had, when I completed the course they had called for me to join them. And so I went to the weapons course at St Mawgan, St Eval, no. Sorry, at Kinloss. And whilst on, on the Operational Training Unit they decided to move the two squadrons that were at St Mawgan up to Kinloss and the Training Unit down to St Mawgan. And so the whole lot had to be moved down to St Mawgan. And before we moved I was called in, they said, ‘Well, would you take over as chief weapons instructor when we move to St Mawgan?’ So I said, ‘Yeah, I don’t mind.’ So I took over and I went down to St Mawgan and we had to set the whole thing up again. All the training classrooms and so on. And I remained there until 1967 when I was posted to Singapore. Now, my wife said she didn’t want to go to Singapore because we’d recently bought a bungalow, the children were both settled in school for the first time because they’d been moved from school to school. So she decided she would remain at home and I didn’t fancy spending two and a half years on my own in Singapore. So they had a scheme whereby if you volunteered to go do, on an unaccompanied tour anywhere in the world it lasted for a year. So I volunteered for that. And they said right, they’d got a post at as ops officer in Labuan in Borneo. So I said that would do fine. And I got all my kit together and just about to go and the signal came through Labuan closed six months ago. And they didn’t know about it apparently. And so they stopped that one. So they said, ‘Well, how about Bahrain?’ So I said, ‘Yes. That would do me.’ Go to Bahrain. And that time they brought out a redundancy scheme for the Air Force had got what they thought were too many older officers. They wanted to get rid of them to make room for the younger ones coming up and so they brought this scheme in which really it was too good to turn down. I think I was, I was given a five thousand pound to leave plus full pension. So I decided I’ll leave. So I volunteered to go out on that and was accepted to leave and I spent another six months or so floating around at St Mawgan doing all sorts of odd jobs. One of them while I was there we wanted, they wanted an aircraft to go out to locate Sir Francis Chichester on his return from his round the world sailing. Because then there was no sat navs and so they had no contact with him. They knew roughly where he was. An aircraft from 42 Squadron was there and an aircraft from the MOTU. We took off to search for him and we were fortunate that we found him and we were able to direct the other aircraft to us because we had reporters on board and the reporters were not allowed to take any photographs until both aircraft were there so neither got the advantage over the other. But it gave me the advantage. I was able to take some photographs before they got the chance for them to do it. Anyway, as we say we located him but he was most upset at being located. Normally, you know, if you found people they would give you a wave when you flew past. But he just didn’t stand up. He didn’t wave. We dropped a message to him in a container welcoming him back and thanking, you know and saying what a good job he’d done. He watched it go past his boat. He didn’t even bother to pick it up. So I think he was most upset. He wanted to sneak in I think without having being seen. And so that was the end of that one and I think one of the last flights I did was on the Torrey Canyon. We were checking the oil that was coming out of that when it crashed at just off the Scilly Isles. And I didn’t know what to do when I came out of the Air Force. I did a computer course at Camborne in Cornwall and it was to train to programme computers but then I realised that there were only two computers in the whole of Cornwall at that time. One, the one we were using was at County Hall and the other was at John Keay House in the China clay industry. So the chances of getting a job there were nil and I didn’t want to leave Cornwall. Cornwall. And so one of the other chaps who was leaving with me, he said he’d applied to train as a teacher at St Luke’s in Exeter. He said, ‘Why don’t you come and, you know try that?’ So, I said, ‘Well, I left school at fourteen. They won’t want to know me there.’ Anyway, he said, ‘Well try it.’ And I went and the principal there was an ex-wing commander navigator.
RP: So you were made. So, I think we finished your RAF career so we might need to bring it to an end there. But did you, just to round it off did you finish your sort of working career as a teacher then?
PM: As a —?
RP: As a teacher.
PM: Yes.
RP: You stayed then.
PM: Well, I’m saying I taught for ten years.
RP: Yeah.
PM: And then I decided I’d had enough again at fifty five they said you could retire. So I took early retirement from that.
RP: Very nice.
PM: And bought a small holding.
RP: Well, that’s, I mean that’s a fascinating, a fascinating career and I say thank you very much for that. I’m just amazed they were still training you as VE day approached but I suppose you were lucky in a way that you didn’t have to go on ops and you could —
PM: No
RP: You looked forward to a full career in the RAF.
PM: Yeah. It was, because you don’t know how you would react to going on ops. The chap that you should have interviewed, that is a chap called Ted Frost. A friend of mine. He did fifty seven ops. DFC. And I said to him, ‘Have they been in touch with you?’ ‘No he said. They haven’t asked me about it.
RP: Oh, well I’ll take the details if you like.
PM: So I can give you Ted’s telephone number.
RP: Absolutely. No. That’s the sort of people I, I would just like to, we’ll just finish this and I’ll say thank you very much, Peter. It’s been fascinating.
Dublin Core
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Title
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Interview with Peter Morris
Creator
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Rod Pickles
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-10-10
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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AMorrisPG171010, PMorrisPG1701
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Pending review
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01:07:03 audio recording
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eng
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Air Force. Coastal Command
Description
An account of the resource
Peter Morris lived through the East End blitz. He joined the ATC as soon as it was established and applied to join the RAF as aircrew. He was accepted for training as a navigator. While waiting for a course he was part of a group that was sent to repair bomb damage from the V-1 attacks and was then sent to support the armourers at RAF Waterbeach by working on the bomb dump. Peter finished his training just as VE day was celebrated and then was sent to prepare for the Far East just before VJ Day. Peter became an instructor and was also posted on to Coastal Command where he took part in air sea rescue operations.
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Julie Williams
Spatial Coverage
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Bahrain
Great Britain
England--Cambridgeshire
United States
California
California--Vandenberg Air Force Base
Temporal Coverage
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1945
1946
106 Squadron
120 Squadron
42 Squadron
90 Squadron
air sea rescue
aircrew
bombing
bombing up
ground personnel
incendiary device
Lancaster
Lincoln
navigator
RAF Heaton Park
RAF Kinloss
RAF St Eval
RAF St Mawgan
RAF Tuddenham
RAF Waterbeach
RAF Wyton
Shackleton
Tiger force
training
V-1
V-weapon
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1046/11424/ANeedleR171004.1.mp3
039babd17b2f945723e0be063c79ba99
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Needle, Ronald
R Needle
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with Ronald Needle (1925- 2019). He served as a rear gunner with 106 Squadron before his Lancaster crashed in France.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-09-28
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Needle, R
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
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Right, this is Gary Rushbrooke for the Bomber Command Association. I’m with Mr Ron Needle in Bourneville, Birmingham on the 4th of October 2017.
GR: So Ron, you were just telling me you were born in Birmingham.
RN: That’s right, yes, er I had a happy childhood because I was one of eleven children, but at one time there were ten of us living in the slums back to back house in Ladywood, Birmingham, and it was a two-bedroomed house with ten children and a pair of mum and dad. So you can imagine. [laugh]
GR: Where did, where did you come in the eleven, oldest, youngest?
RN: No, the fourth, fourth oldest
GR: Fourth oldest.
RN: Fourth oldest. But um, we, you know, there was no electric, no televisions, no telephones, no fridges, you, you had to go up the back yard to go to the boiler and take your turn to do your washing but then when I was twelve we moved to Northfield and er course it was such a contrast to house nothing but back to back houses and in Northfield there was gardens and a brook, and I called it God’s Country and to this day, and I’ve always lived near here, and luckily in Bourneville which is mainly Cadbury’s er you know I’ve lived here since I was twelve, that eighty year, I’ve lived here.
GR: Eighty years.
RN: Eighty years in this area. And um, luckily I had a damn good father.
GR: I was going to say what did your parents do, I mean.
RN: Well my father was er a postman sorter at Birmingham main post office and he was also President of the Post Office Union. But he was well respected because, unlike, dare I say, unlike today, my father looked after the men who were in the right. If a man was in the wrong whether he was a union member or not, then they had to be responsible. He would not stick up for a man who was in the wrong and I find that very different today.
GR: Yeah.
RN: So, but he was a wonderful father. He worked his damn socks off to keep us, and I’ve got nothing but respect for him. But then when I was fourteen I was staying in the gar, I was in the garden at Northfield during the war, and I saw a German plane climb very low and it was obviously a reconnaissance plane. It didn’t try to shoot at us but I obviously guessed he’d taken photographs of the Austin Aero and the factory there at Longbridge
GR: Yes.
RN: So that made me determined to join aircrew. So when I was
GR: So you was about four-fourteen when war broke out.
RN: War broke out, yes
GR: Ah yeah.
RN: And when I was seventeen I was working on the Stirling bombers and of course it was a
GR: When you say working what did you?
RN: I was a fitter.
GR: Right
RN: I was a fitter on the Stirling bomber, but then they decided it was out of date and we were all made redundant, and I went down to the Labour Exchange because at that time
GR: So when you say, sorry, so when you say
RN: It’s all right, No, on you go
GR: When you was working on the Stirling, was that, you weren’t in the RAF then
RN: Oh no, no, I was a civilian,
GR: Doing
RN: Civilian, helping to fit the sheets around the aircraft, the iron up sheets.
GR: So you was actually working in one of the factories
RN: Oh yes,
GR: Making
RN: Stirling bombers
GR: Stirling bombers.
RN: And then when we was made redundant I went to Selly Oak Labour Exchange and the man said ‘Oh, you’ve got to work down the mines’ and I said, ‘I don’t want that’ [emphasis] and he said, ‘Well it’s that or the Forces’. I said, ‘Well that’s what I want – the Forces’, and lo and behold, he found me a nice little job, in Birmingham. And then when I was seventeen and a half, and had to sign up, my Manager said ‘Ron, we’re doing specialist work, so don’t sign’ he said, ‘and you won’t have to go in the Forces.’ I said, ‘Yes, sir. I’ll go sir’. But when I went to the RAF recruiting office I volunteered [laugh] straight away for aircrew and then I became an air gunner and a rear gunner.
GR: So, obviously, you yeah you signed up, they called you up.
RN: They called me up. I started off at St John’s Wood.
GR: Yeah.
RN: I’d just had my
GR: Lord’s cricket ground.
RN: That’s right. I’d just had my hair cut but the two NCOs said ‘Get your hair cut airman’ [laugh]. So although I’d had my hair cut it didn’t meet the RAF standards. [laugh] I’ll always remember that. What interested me more than anything in the RAF [cough] was there was a Canadian who was, liked to gamble, and I didn’t, I couldn’t afford to gamble to be honest, but I always remember, er he lost a lot of money, and he turned round and said to the lad who owe, who won the money, it’s double or quits, and he kept doing it till he won. And from that moment on, I’ve never [emphasis] bet on cards.
GR: Ah.
RN: Because I thought that was a nasty thing to do. He kept up.
GR: Yeah.
RN: Anyway, um
GR: Having said that, I’m sitting next to a pack of cards!
RN: Yeah, I play crib!
GR: Okay, yes. [laugh]
RN: I play crib [cough]. And then um,
GR: So what was the training like?
RN: The training was good, er,
GR: What did you want to be when you joined?
RN: I wanted to be a rear gunner.
GR: So that was a bit fair
RN: I um, I mentioned it right away, mind you I er, I’d only had an elementary education, but I did well at school to be truthful, erm, but um, no I wanted to be an air gunner. And when I went to Stormy Downs in South Wales on the gunnery course er I met up with a chap who we agreed he would be the mid upper gunner and I would be the rear gunner, but [laugh] when we, er, finished our course, they asked us if we give our names to who we wanted to go with, which we did. But, when we got to the OTU they’d split us all up, and I can understand that now, they split us all up so although you’d put your name down to go with someone, then you wasn’t with him at all it was a stranger. But luckily I was with a chappie who agreed to be the mid upper gunner, I the rear gunner, and we got crewed up ah, and a strange thing happened, we were on training exercises and the navigator would call out, ‘Righto Skipper, change course to 163’, and the pilot would say: ‘I’ll [emphasis] tell you when I’ve to change course’. And then the bomb aimer would say, ‘Righto skipper, ready for bombing’, ‘I’ll [emphasis] tell you when you’re ready for bombing’. So when we landed, the crew
GR: This is, this is all at training
RN: Yes, we decided that we didn’t want to fly with the pilot. So we saw the Squadron Leader and in charge of the camp and we were, we told him our fears, our problem and we had another pilot come, named Jim Scott, from Scotland! Lovely man, and he saved my life, twice. Because once we were training, as funny enough a Stirling bomber, and we flew into cumulus cloud. Well, some clouds have got very strong winds, updrafts of wind, and we got caught in the updraught of wind and the plane went out of control! The pilot managed to regain control but the plane was shaking and I thought it was going to fall to bits. So we managed to land on an emergency landing. But, [emphasis] the next day three of the crew, the mid upper gunner, the wireless operator and the navigator backed out of flying. So we had to have three new members.
GR And how did you feel about that?
RN Well, I told myself, I wasn’t, funny enough, I never ever [emphasis] thought I was going to die, I must have been crazy. But I thought, how can I give up flying and my parents would be ashamed of me and that was I suppose the real reason why I carried on, but I don’t know whether that’s the truth or not because
GR [Cough] So them three that decided they didn’t want to fly were they just taken away from training or what?
RN Yes, I don’t know what happened ‘em,
GR: They just disappeared.
RN: I did find out, and I’m not going to give details because it’s a man.
GR: No, no. Yes,
RN: But my daughter did find out that the mid upper gunner er lived to be in his eighties,
GR: Right.
RN: But I never got in touch with him.
GR: No.
RN: Never got in touch with him, but er as I say, I won’t mention names.
GR: No, no, no.
RN: But then as I say, er we did eleven ops, one of which was er Munich.
GR: Tell me about your first op.
RN: Oh, the first op
GR: Cause that was the first, because obviously then you’d you’d done your training and then you were sent to 106 Squadron.
RN: Yes that’s right.
GR: Where were they based?
RN: Er Metheringham in Lincoln
GR: Metheringham, so. Right
RN: Metheringham so,
RN: Metheringham
GR: Tell us how you felt about that, going to Metheringham.
RN: Oh, I felt delighted. In fact when we walked into the Nissen Hut you know there was nice beds there, with sheets and two fires, and Jim, and er, the wireless operator turned round and said “Looks everybody’s flak happy [laugh] one of the crew, one of the crew who was in there, said you’d be bloody flak happy if we’ve been shot at and I always remember that but anyway it was, I was happy, I was doing what I wanted to do. I don’t say I wasn’t frightened, I was scared, because I’m going to be truthful, on one occasion, we were briefed to go to to Berlin and I knew at that time it was a very very bad operation.
GR: Yeah.
RN: Because of the losses that we knew about, but when he turned round, the Squadron Leader turned round, and said we were going to Berlin, a big cheer went up. I didn’t cheer, because I was really afraid. I was, I was frightened. The first time I was ever frightened of going on an operation. But we went out to the planes, ready for take off and then a message came through ‘Return to the briefing room.’ And when we went back to the briefing room, the Squadron Leader said, ‘Sorry chaps the operation is cancelled,’ and the cheer that went up then.
GR: You cheered then.
RN: I did, yes. I did.
GR: [Laugh] So what was your first operation, where can you remember where that was
RN: Yes I think it was the Dortmund Ems canal
GR: Oh right
RN: And er. we went there two or three times because it was obviously a way for the Germans to move the troops and materials.
GR: Yes
RN: Armaments But I always remember it because it was very cloudy, and we had to come under the clouds to bomb, and when we dropped the bombs, a few seconds later when they landed, the aircraft shook [laugh] because we was that low.
GR: You were low down
RN: Low down. But that was the one that er, but as I say I said to my granddaughter oh ‘bout twelve months ago, I know it sounds crazy but never once did I think I was going to die, never. The thought never entered my head. I was afraid, you know. I, whenever the bomb aimer said ‘bombs away’, I was always thinking good, now we can go home!
GR: Let’s go back
RN: Yeah. But um, I went on a few ops, you know, we went to Norway, France marshalling yards, um, Aalburg, just outside of Hamburg, um, Munich twice, but on the second time we went to Munich, er, we dropped our bombs, and I wasn’t too concerned because the first time there wasn’t much flak, no enemy fighters, and er when the bomb aimer said ‘bombs away‘ I thought ‘great we’re going home now,’ but suddenly the plane went out of control and what had happened, we’d nearly collided with one of our own aircraft. The plane went out of control so much so that the crew tried to bail out and ditched the escape hatch. And of course, being January,
GR: So out of the plane was out of control.
RN: Yes. I was
GR: Was it spiralling down or
RN: Spiralling down, well, yes,
GR: Yes.
RN: Spiralling down, but luckily the pilot, a wonderful pilot, managed to regain control. But
GR: But nobody had bailed out?
RN: Nobody had bailed out, but the escape hatch had gone and icy cold air was coming into the aircraft so, he immediately called me up and said would I vacate my turret and give my gloves to the navigator so that he could plot a course, to near Paris, for the emergency aerodrome. But then I was sitting in the back
GR: Was the aircraft flyable then?
RN: Oh yes,
GR: It was okay
RN: Oh yes, the only thing wrong with the aircraft, we were flying blind and the esc and no escape hatch. Because icy air was flying in,
GR: Right
RN: The machine. And then the pilot called up the mid upper gunner and said er ‘Mid upper gunner, can you see the deck yet?’
GR: So where were you, sorry Ron, so where, so you’ve come out your turret
RN: I’d come out my turret
GR: Where were you sat or what were you doing?
RN: That’s it, I was sat on the Elsan! [laugh] OK Margaret.
[Other] – I’ll just put this away [whisper] sorry, sorry see you next week
RN: See you next week.
[Other]: Bye.
GR: Right.
NR: Yes. We were, you know, in the area of [pause] still near the German border.
GR: Yes, er sorry we’ve just interrupted but. So, you’ve come out of the rear turret
RN: Yeah, so I’m sat on the Elsan at the back,
GR: Yes.
RN: Plugged in the intercom and was waiting to hear what was going on, and then the the pilot called up the mid upper gunner and said ‘Mid upper gunner can you see the deck yet?’ And without any panic, the mid upper gunner said ‘Yes skipper, it’s right below us.’ The skipper’s response was, ‘It can’t be, [emphasis] we’re at four thousand feet.’ But we weren’t. The altimeter must have been giving a false reading, because suddenly I felt myself being pushed forward and went unconscious for hours. When I came to, the plane was on fire, and I’d, I’d been unconscious for hours but I managed to, dis - my harness had saved my life so I managed to press the button, release my harness, fell to the floor, but I’d broke my leg, punctured my lung and dislocated my right arm.
GR: So what had happened?
NR: Well I’d obviously it’d I had pull I’d gone forward and hitting the mid upper turret but my harness had got caught on the fuselage and pulled me back.
GR: So I know you told me earlier, but basically the plane, the Lancaster, you all thought you were at four thousand feet, but you were at ground level and it crashed.
NR: It crashed in a forest.
GR: Crashed straight in.
RN: In on a hill in occupied allied occupied France.
GR: Right.
NR: Near the German border.
GR: Yeah.
RN: And er I lay there for hours because this was just turned eight o’clock at night. Day broke the next morning, I was still lying there waiting for people to come, and then I heard bells ringing from a church.
GR: So you’re inside the aircraft.
NR: Yeah.
GR: Yes.
NR: No, managed to get out of the aircraft.
GR: Oh sorry.
NR: I open the door, crawled out of the aircraft.
GR: Was there anybody with you?
NR: No no I was on my own.
GR: Right.
RN: All on my own, because Harry he he was saved because said he had a feeling we were going to crash and he held on to the spar, you know near the Perspex astrodome.
GR: Yes.
RN: And that melted actually melted on to him and he got out, he was badly burnt but luckily only on skin deep and he escaped early because he wasn’t unconscious. So I didn’t know he was alive and he didn’t know I was alive and then,
GR: And at the time, I know you’ve already told me, but the rest of the crew were killed.
RN: Five of the crew were killed.
GR: But you didn’t know this at that time.
RN: No no.
GR: So, you, you’ve come round, you’re in the aircraft, sorry, you’re outside, you didn’t know where you was, what’d happened.
RN: No. And then it, suddenly I heard bells ringing from a church. So I thought, sounds near, so I crawled out of the forest in the direction of the bells, and lay by a tree on a, in a field, and I shouted for help and within minutes I saw three people running towards me, one of who I found out later was the bell ringer. So I was taken to the Mayor’s house, who who looked after me, till the ambulance came and again, luckily for me, there was a hospital three mile away at a place called Commercery in France with American personnel running the hospital. They looked after me, and gave me doses of penicillin but er, because I got gangrene, that’s what, well it turned to gangrene
GR: So your right leg .
RN: Yeah, my right leg.
GR: Which had broke, frostbite, gangrene had set in.
RN: Yeah, so they took half me foot away.
GR: While you were still in at the
RN: Still in France yeah,
GR: Right.
RN: We’d gone. Then we they sent me back to England on a hospital train and then when I got to England I went to a place, RAF Hospital in Swindon and eventually I had to have my leg off below the knee but and it was okay, So luckily. [emphasis] Again, I repeat this word luck, because I think life is all about luck.
GR: Yes.
RN: I was lucky I was,
GR: When did you actually find out that the rest of the crew hadn’t made it?
RN: Oh at when I was in the American hospital.
GR: Yeah.
RN: And, cause that was when they told me that Harry was safe, he’d, he’d escaped, and er as I say he crawled out on to the aircraft body and er he found his way to a sheep hut in the middle of the village and er someone came with a pitchfork, thought he was a German. But he made them realise he was he was English, and they looked after him, same as me. I was well looked after. The French looked after me. I’ve got nothing but admiration, in fact I became good friends, as I say 43 years afterwards my brother-in-law turned round and said ‘Ron, come on, we’re going to find this village where you crashed.’ And I remember going to the village, asking a young lady who happened to be Andre’s daughter-in-law if she could speak English. She said a little, but she didn’t understand. But again I was lucky, she took me to a hou- bungalow two hundred yards away cause it was only a little village, and the woman there could speak perfect English, in fact she was an interpreter for the American Armed Forces during the war. [laugh] So again became good friends and she sent her husband Guy, er who was a prisoner of war in Germany, to deliver it, who spoke to Andre and a few minutes later Andre came up in his truck and er when he saw me he put his arms round me and hugged me, made a fuss of me, and he when he went up to his house. This is important, he went to his larder and he brought out a cake tin which he’d made from the Lancaster bomber, the salvage, the bomber. So Reg, my brother-in-law had it engraved with 106 Squadron, 5 Group, Metheringham, details of the crash and we took it back to Andre. When Andre saw it he claimed it, went to the larder and brought out another cake tin, and gave me that, so Reg, my brother-in-law, had it engraved in French, so we then we done a swap. So Andre had erm a cake tin which was engraved with the French details and I had a one with in English.
GR: Have you still got it?
RN: Well, my daughter’s got it over in Bedford.
GR: Oh that’s lovely.
RN: O yes, oh yes, she’s got it alright.
GR: So going back to the hospital erm, this would be round about March, April, May 1945?
RN: Correct.
GR: Yeah.
RN: Yeah that’s right.
GR: How long was you in hospital for in England?
RN: Well, on and off um because of the different, the gangrene, taking a long time, er it was about 5 months.
GR: Right.
RN: But it was er way into November [emphasis] before I had an artificial leg. But um, well I was lucky, I managed to run and dance and play golf.
GR: So I, I presume then you were released from the RAF.
RN: Yes, yes.
GR: Yes.
RN: And I did say, I’ve gotta get, one thing about being old you can tell the truth, I do remember telling well the, some of the officers who came to interview, that I didn’t want to fly again, and I didn’t. It was true, I didn’t want to fly again. Erm you know, because of what had happened to me. But er nothing was said or done. I was discharged, on a discharge.
GR: What did you do after the war Ron?
RN: Well I was, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of the Bendix washing machine?
GR: Yes.
RN: But I the firm I worked for was making washing machines.
GR: As an engineer, or
RN: No I went as a progress clerk.
GR: Right.
RN: And again, it was the happiest days of my life. I can still remember nearly all the part numbers of the panels, the motors and all the integral parts even now, and I loved it and again, I suppose I was lucky because one week we didn’t reach the target and my manager turned round to the superintendent and asked him to fiddle the records to say that we had achieved the target. [Cough] But my superintendent turned round and said ‘Right our Ron, we’ll give him the, what he wants but I’m going to send one to the Chairman and the others with the correct details.’ Now, I know I’m right, I know in my heart I’m right. I didn’t like that, I thought, you know, you can’t, you can’t give the Chairman the correct details and the manager the wrong details. So I did tell the manager and er I wasn’t ashamed of it, I told him what what had happened and he turned round to the super and he says ‘I’m accepting what you said, we’ll just issue the right details.’ So, I was pleased about that. But I tell you that little story because, I’m sure he recommended me to be promoted to the buying office.
GR: Ah right.
RN: So er and then I was asked to take over the stores which I did. And I enjoyed it, but er the happiest job I ever had without a doubt was as progress clerk. It wasn’t you know, was well paid, but um I was just happy doing it.
GR: Yes. And I, I have to ask because you were waiting for me at the door when I came up and I didn’t know you had a, obviously a false leg, it’s not been a hindrance to you, or?
RN: Well, only in later life
GR: Yeah.
RN: Only twelve months ago.
GR: Well you look well when I came, Ron. [laugh]
RN: Well, that’s the medication
GR: Yeah
NR: The medication is great oh its er
GR: But since the war, the last sixty seventy years it’s not stopped you doing anything?
RN: No, no.
GR No.
RN It’s only in the last couple of three years
GR Yeah
RN But er I started to lose me balance which you do when you’re old.
GR: Which you do as you get older.
RN: when you get old.
GR: Yeah.
RN: But other than that, great.
GR: Oh that’s good, that’s good. And I know you mentioned Harry, who was the other survivor.
RN: Yes.
GR: And I know he passed away a few years ago.
RN: Well, Harry er he married a girl from Barrow-in-Furness. He came from Brighton and er they decided to emigrate, so they adopted a child and went to New Zealand. Unfortunately his wife, Winnie died, in New Zealand, so he came back, to England. So I, I met him at Southampton, and er driving back to Birmingham and then I drove him to Barrow to er see his sister-in-law, but then the next thing I knew, a few months later, he married a girl in Sheffield and er I was in we was we was in touch all the while and er eventually unfortunately, his wife died and then um because of our age, Harry died.
GR: Yeah. What was Harry’s surname?
RN: Stunnell, Harry Stunnell.
GR: Stunnell.
RN: Yeah, he’s mentioned in the book of course, but er we were good friends, We were obviously we got something special happen to us, which bonded us together.
GE: Were the crew, were the other five members of the crew buried in France?
RN: Yes indeed.
GR: Yes.
RN: In fact I’ve been to the cemetery.
GR: That I was going to ask if you’d been.
RN: Yeah, oh yes, I’m glad you asked that Gary because the name of the cemetery was C H O L O Y and in fact I though it was [sounded] shaloy but in French it’s [sounded] Shalois. Shalois. But, er yes. Andre the er bell ringer, two or three times, he took me to the cemetery and I saw all the graves of the crew and others, and I even met the gardener who’s main job was to look after the cemetery and er you know yes, it was nice, it was nice to er, to see it.
GR: Like you’ve said, you’ve said a couple of times I think, because you didn’t know you were going to crash, cause obviously crews er the pilot said get ready to crash land.
RN: That’s right.
GR: Brace yourself.
RN: That’s right
GR: The pilots looking for somewhere to land, this came completely out the blue.
RN: Oh yes,
GR: You knew you were in a bit of trouble but didn’t realise you were that low.
RN: And of course, the pilot was going by his instruments.
GR: Yeah, And he wouldn’t have known nothing.
RN: Yeah so at least on my consolation is, that they died within seconds.
GR: Yeah.
RN No Didn’t suffer no, so, that I know that sounds bad.
GR Suffer. No, no it’s not bad at all it’s erm.
RN Well that’s briefly the life I had. I was married er I had a lovely wife.
GR: Married after the war I presume?
RN: Yes um, I was married at the end of er November in 45 and I had two daughters and a son and the two daughters even today spoil me rotten.
GR: And so they should [laugh]
RN: Well, [laugh] unfortunately my son died with cancer, but um no, I’ve had a good life, I’ve keep using this word lucky, but well I have been a lucky person, I have been a lucky person, and still am.
GR: Yeah. Lucky, but good. Good yeah. Ron has kindly donated his book “Saved by the Bell”, erm, which the the University can use to take bits out etc, I’ll just switch off. That was lovely thank you Ron.
RN: I have sent one to the University of Lincoln.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Interview with Ronald Needle
Creator
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Gary Rushbrooke
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-10-04
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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ANeedleR171004
Conforms To
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Pending review
Pending revision of OH transcription
Format
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00:30:37 audio recording
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Description
An account of the resource
Ron Needle, from Birmingham, flew operation as a rear gunner on 106 Squadron Lancasters at Metheringham. Operations included Norway, Dortmund Ems Canal and Munich; he was one of two survivors after his aircraft crashed in France. Ron was aided by local villagers in Choloy and treated by American doctors. Repatriated to England, his lower leg had to be amputated and he was discharged from the RAF. Ron married and had three children. He returned to France, visiting the villagers who helped him and the graves of his crew.
Contributor
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Anne-Marie Watson
Spatial Coverage
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France
Germany
Great Britain
England--Birmingham
England--Lincolnshire
France--Meurthe-et-Moselle
Germany--Dortmund-Ems Canal
England--Warwickshire
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1945
106 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
bombing
crash
crewing up
fear
final resting place
heirloom
lack of moral fibre
Lancaster
military living conditions
Operational Training Unit
RAF Metheringham
Stirling
training
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1052/11430/POatleyK1701.2.jpg
be795ca0b07853007aa77c562bfeb00c
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1052/11430/AOatleyK170321.1.mp3
9f337a41a3840e6e82e8841355f9d0a1
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
Oatley, Ken
K Oatley
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with Ken Oatley (b. 1922). He flew operations as a navigator with 627 Squadron.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-05-21
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Oatley, K
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
DK: I’ll just introduce myself, so, this is, this is David Kavanagh introduce, interviewing Ken Oatley at his home [file missing] borne, 21st of March 2017. So, I’ll just put that down there.
KO: Surely.
DK: Hang on, If I keep looking down I’m just making sure it’s still working
KO: Still functioning,
DK: Still functioning, yeah. It’s, it can be a bit temperamental at times, that looks, that looks ok. [unclear] that. I’ll just like to ask so first of all, what were you doing before the war?
KO: I was going to be a professional violinist.
DK: Really?
KO: My father, I won a scholarship to the Royal Academy when I was fifteen,
DK: Right.
KO: But I had no one to live with in London so I had to put it off for another year, then I had to take an examination that year to get the exhibition the year after that which actually brought me up too far close to the war and, even then, I had a year to go before I could get into the Air Force so I joined the Home Guard, did my duties as far as I could from then, and at that time, it was the 13th of September I think of ’39 that I was in headquarters and the phone rang and call out all the home guard, we’re anticipating the invasion immediately, so that passed over of course and October came and I thought, well, really it’s time and I just was old enough then to volunteer so I volunteered for aircrew in October of 1940.
DK: [unclear] back to me, when you were in the Home Guard, what were your sort of roles then? What were you actually doing, were you guarding anything or?
KO: No, I was in headquarters most of the time, but I had to take out messages or anything that required, you know, but I was there nights and so forth.
DK: So were you mostly young men there waiting to be called up or sort of [unclear]?
KO: No, no, they were all a lot much older than me.
DK: Alright. Alright, so you applied then to the Air Force, so
KO: Mh.
DK: It was always your intention then to,
KO: I always wanted to fly.
DK: Alright. Yeah, so did you actually go into pilot training then?
KO: Yes, in, I started flying in April of ’41, it was April so, anyway. And did the usual six weeks at Blackpool and then waiting for a course to come around they sent me to Northern Ireland guarding an auxiliary airfield there against the IRA and then in Maytime they sent me over then to Scone, that Scone, there was at, oh God! This is, my memory is, north of, in Scotland,
DK: Ah, ok.
KO: On the east coast top, anyhow that was the biggest town north. We were there prepared to go down to ITW then at Scarborough, by, by June then I was flying from Sealand on the wirrell
DK: What type of aircraft were you flying?
KO: Tiger Moths.
DK: Ah!
KO: Which I did, I loved flying and I had the aptitude for it and I really thoroughly enjoyed my time there, it was wonderful.
DK: What did you think of the Tiger Moth?
KO: Oh, I liked it very much and I, our last hour or two that we had on the course, my friend and I, we were supposed to be going out for three quarters of an hour flight at night in the evening, come back and report and then go back and do another three quarters of an hour so I said to my mate, well, this is a bit of a waste of time, I’ll meet you over the river Dee and we’ll have a dogfight, which we did. When time came to, to come back to report in, he disappeared and I thought, well, I don’t know where the heck I am [laughs], we wandered about somewhat for three quarters of an hour so I had, eventually I had to give up and I saw a farm with smoke coming out of the chimney and I decided, well, that looks alright so I made a forced landing into this field, knocking out a host of surveyors posts on the way down and a ditch that was half way across which I hadn’t noticed. Anyhow I landed there and a motorcyclist came in and I got out and spread my map on his handle bars and asked him where I was and he gave to, I was in the middle of Lancashire so I flew back and,
DK: You’ve gone that far south?
KO: Yes. So, anyway, I was up for the wing code the next morning,
DK: Were you able to take off out the field then?
KO: Yeah, I did, half the field
DK: Yeah, so that was
KO: It was,
DK: Damaged the aircraft?
KO: No, no, it was a bit dodgy, there was a wood at the end of the field and I just caught the width to the corner of it and I managed to get through, anyway we landed there and the next morning I was up in front of the CO and charged which it was going to be a court martial but he let me go on [unclear] cause I was the first one to solo [unclear] thirties so I thought, you know, I’m made for this and so I was taken off the Spitfight posting and ended up in Canada flying Oxfords. We were on the Oxfords for some while and then there was, Bennett was just do the Pathfinders setup and he had no navigators, only map readers really, observers, don’t tell him I [unclear], but he had no navigators so he took five pilots off of every pilots course in Canada, brought us home to do the Middle course on the navigators, then go onto flying,
DK: So, you were actually on a pilot’s course in Canada.
KO: Yeah, yeah.
DK: Got called off by Bennett,
KO: Yeah,
DK: Because he needed navigators,
KO: Yeah,
DK: How did you feel about that at the time?
KO: Not very happy, I must admit, but anyway.
DK: How were you chosen, was it almost a lottery or?
KO: Well, I don’t know, I think probably I wasn’t landing them very well. I came down [unclear], the approach was hundred percent, I touched down on the wheels, nice and quietly, as soon as the tailwheel had dropped, which off the runway we’d had, my instructor never once told me that I should be doing three point landings, never mentioned, then when the CFI took me up, I did the same thing and he then asked my instructor whether he’d taught me three point landings, of course he said, oh yes, of course he has, and so I was one of the five that got tucked out.
DK: So, it might have been poor training on the trainer’s part, not I suppose, [unclear]
KO: Well, I mean, it seems simple enough, things say you should be doing three-point landings. I landed quietly and smoothly, you know, and,
DK: And this would have been the Oxford, would it?
KO: Yeah, yes. Anyhow I came back home, nearly torpedoed on the way home.
DK: Can you remember which ship you came back on?
KO: [unclear] Dam and just out of Halifax I was on my sway hammock and there was an enormous bang, I thought, my God, we’d been torpedoed, and I bet, I was four flights down and I bet I was, tops of that before anybody else [laughs]. However, there happened to be a torpedo, a destroyer had come alongside and for no apparent reason, and he happened just to take the torpedo and the thing was sunk with all hands and we just carried on, there was fire
DK: You can’t remember the name of the destroyer that was lost?
KO: No, no, no.
DK: No. Did you actually see it go down or?
KO: No,
DK: No.
KO: But we were told.
DK: Yeah.
KO: But you see, we were in two passengers, well, one was obviously a passenger ship and we were in a sort of half and half but there were five hundred aircrew on board ships, then we had several destroyers flying around us all the way back across the Atlantic. It took three weeks coming home cause we went all over the place and got back to England and put me on the navigation course which we did one course at Grand Hotel, oh, Eastbourne,
DK: Right. Yep, yep.
KO: Six weeks and then we were sent off on a ship again, I thought, we are going back to Canada again, which I didn’t like cause I got engaged to a girl in Canada while I was out there. Anyway, we went to South Africa and I was, from start to finish it was nearly eight months, wasted out of my flying time, going down there, doing the course and coming back again and we spent three weeks at Clairwood race course in tents. Then they moved us to East London and we were there for another six weeks and while we were there I met somebody there quite out of the blue, he asked me what we did, what our hobbies were, said well, I played the violin, oh, he said, I know somebody who’d be interested in you so he took me up the road to this gentleman and he said, would you like to play me something? So I played him one of the better class pieces that I used to perform and he said, would you like to play with the municipal orchestra on Sunday? This was Thursday, so I did that and did that the following month, so that was the virtually, the last time I played the violin at all, really.
DK: So you never played it since then?
KO: No, not really, no.
DK: No, no.
KO: So, anyway we got back and messed about for ages and I did,
DK: How did you feel when all this was going on, you were going to South Africa [unclear] was there a certain amount of frustration or?
KO: Yes I, you know, it was very enjoyable,
DK: Yeah.
KO: But it wasn’t what I wanted to do. Anyway we got back and there was so many aircrew trained here messing about Bournemouth was full of them all the time, they didn’t know what to do with us, anyhow we ended up at Harrogate, we were sent off on a commander course to start with at Whitley Bay, six weeks and then they sent me up to Scone to sit in the back seat of a Tiger Moth with a [unclear] recently qualified pilot in front and I was another six weeks messing about there, well, that was barely started the navigation course properly so I don’t think I was gonna get there.
DK: Was navigation something you took to easily, was it?
KO: Oh yes, I was, no worries about that, and then I was onto OTU and from what I understand I was, uhm, was the top of the class in both flying and ground subjects and,
DK: Can you remember which OTU it was you went to?
KO: I can never remember the name of it, was north of Oxford.
DK: Right. Is not in there, in the logbook.
KO: It would be, I suppose. It’s more likely in the back of my pilot’s, pack of pilot’s
DK: That one.
KO: But in the back,
DK: Oh, right, ok. So, what year are we talking about now then? It’s,
KO: That’ll be ’42.
DK: ’42, alright. So that’s the Oxford, so that’s ’41, ’74, you are still flying in ’74.
KO. Oh that’s, that’s flying here.
DK: Right.
KO: It’ll be very, very close to, no, but it wouldn’t be in there, yes, on the back, on the back page, I got all the
DK: Ah, right.
KO: All the,
DK: Ah, right, ok, so ’40,
KO: In, here, up here.
DK: [unclear] ’43.
KO: And here.
DK: 16.
KO: 16.
DK: Ah, right, so, I’ll just say this for the benefit of the tape so it’s 16 OTU Upper Hayford. So you were there from the 10th of August 1943,
KO: Yeah,
DK: Yeah.
KO: Then we went onto Scampton and then to Swinderby.
DK: And that was,
KO: On Stirlings
DK: 16
KO: We did Wellingtons at
DK: 16 OTU
KO: 16 OTU,
DK: Yeah,
KO: And then we went on the Stirlings
DK: And that was at Swinderby
KO: Yes and then the Lancs
DK: Right, so, at 1660 Conversion Unit, Swinderby, that was the Stirlings.
KO: Yes.
DK: Yeah, and then at Syerston,
KO: Yes,
Dk: That was 5 Lancaster finishing school.
KO: Yes.
DK: So, at Upper Hayford was the Wellingtons?
KO: Yes.
DK: Yes, so what was your feeling about the Wellington then as an aircraft?
KO: Oh, fine and my pilot that I had there, although he hadn’t all that many arrows in, he was fine and we got on very well, our crew was first class and everything we did, we were quite well appraised for.
DK: So how did your crew get together then?
KO: Oh, we all, they put us in a hangar and said, I’m sorry, sort yourselves out, so to speak, you know.
DK: You just found yourselves a pilot,
KO: Yes, from
DK: Do you think that worked well?
KO: Yes, it did in our case.
DK: Yeah.
KO: I had an excellent crew and I was very sorry that we went on from there to Metheringham,
DK: Right.
KO: With Gibson squadron.
DK: 106 Squadron.
KO: And my pilot went on a Second Dickey trip with his, with a crew that were on their last operation,
DK: Right.
KO: And failed to return. So, we were sent back to Scampton again in to be recrewed. If they’d given us another pilot, which would have been more sensible, they split the whole crew up as far as I can [unclear] gave us another crew of odd bodies that they had and he wasn’t too bad, he wasn’t as good as my other pilot, you know, they were a little bit lumpy, but see my trouble was, my navigator’s seat was well back from the front and as I remember it seems I had a little office of my own now, the only,
DK: This was the Wellington,
KO: Stirling.
DK: Stirling, right, ok.
KO: And my only chance of talking to the pilot was on the intercom.
DK: Right.
KO: So I never was anywhere near him. It was when we got on to Syerston to the Lancaster, I was sitting right behind him as you realised and he had the most dreadful body odour that you could ever imagine, it really was out of this world,
DK: Oh dear,
KO: And so I took the crew up to the wing commander after we’d just sort of finished the early stages with the Lanc and I said, I can’t fly with this bloke, we all agreed, nearly court martialled, I [unclear] go for, go for a [unclear] you know and anyway we sent back to Scampton again and,
DK: So, you’ve gone back to Scampton for a third time.
KO: Yes, yes.
DK: Alright. When you, just going back to 106, you never met Gibson then, did you?
KO: No.
DK: I, just for the, slightly confusing that for the tape, just for the benefit of the tape, what I’ll say here is where you were, so initially it was Upper Hayford with 16 OTU from the 10th of August 1943, then it was Scampton 15th of December ’43, then 1660 Conversion Unit at Swinderby from the 8th of February ’44 on Stirlings,
KO: Yes.
DK: Then 5 Lancaster finishing school at Syerston,
KO: Yes.
DK: from 28th of March ’44, obviously on Lancasters, then 106 Squadron your pilot went missing as a Second Dickey, so back to Scampton again, then Swinderby,
KO: Yes.
DK: Then 5 Lancaster finishing school, Syerston again,
KO: Yes.
DK: Then back to Scampton because it’s problems with the pilot,
KO: Yes. On 106.
DK: On 106, and then on, I’ve got here, then onto 627, so that was, that’s the next question,
KO: Yes, yeah.
DK: Yeah, ok. So, you’ve complained about your pilot then and what happened then?
KO: Oh, they didn’t do him any harm or anything, I’m just, my memory gets so bad at times, other times I can go with, like, you know, what was the question?
DK: It was, you’re back at Scampton and you complained about the pilot, cause of the body odour,
KO: Yes.
DK: So what happened then?
KO: Well, straight away I was sent to Woodhall Spa from there.
DK: Right, ok. And that’s with 627 Squadron.
KO: 627 Squadron, yes.
DK: Yeah, ok. So, what were you flying at 627 then?
KO: Mosquitoes.
DK: Yeah. What did you think about the Mosquito?
KO: Oh, marvellous.
DK: Yeah.
KO: Yes, I, never complaints about the Mosquito.
DK: Was it a bit of a shock when you’ve gone from four engine bombers?
KO: It was lovely.
DK: Yeah. So you,
KO: Oh. Beautiful.
DK: So you never flew any operations on the four engine bombers?
KO: No, not again, no, no, no. It was all on the Mosquitoes from there on.
DK: Alright.
KO: And then of course the first, the move from Metheringham to Woodhall Spa was like chalk and cheese, you know, [unclear] it, well, every moment we, there we enjoyed the flying and the operational side of it and,
DK: Yeah.
KO: It was just something once in a lifetime, you know.
DK: What was Woodhall Spa like as an airfield then?
KO: It was big enough for what we wanted cause they were flying 617 from there as well so they had to cover the twenty thousand pound bomb weight on runways cause it was just a small camp, on the outside there was no main buildings to it at all, we were very much countryfied.
DK: Did you go to the Petwood Hotel at all?
KO: No, that was 617’s privilege that was,
DK: Ah, right.
KO: We were in the Nissen huts.
DK: [laughs] oh, ok.
KO: Which was a bit of a comedown.
DK: Did you get to know anyone of the 617 crew?
KO: I did but I can’t remember the names now. [laughs] Funnily enough, one of the well known ones that flew with Gibson on the dams, I went into the sergeants mess one day and he was playing cards with a table full of crews there for 617 and he said, can you lend me a pound? So, I lend him the pound, never expecting to get it back again, when I came out of the Air Force about four years after that, I happened to be standing in front of my restaurant in Northampton and who should come in? This chap I’d lent the pound to. So, I caught him and I got me pound back on it [laughs].
DK: [unclear] oh excellent, [laughs], well he did owe it to you.
KO: Yeah, having done the dams raid he was lucky to.
DK: Yeah. So, you can’t remember who that was then now?
KO: I, a flash came into my head, I got an idea whose name, was Monroe, was it?
DK: Les Monroe? Yeah, Les Monroe.
KO: Yeah.
DK: The New Zealander?
KO: Yeah.
DK: Yeah, yeah. He owed you a pound [laughs].
KO: Yeah. He just walked in the shop, not knowing I was there.
DK: Yeah.
KO: I just recognized, I said, hey you.
DK: I actually met Les a couple of times when he came over to UK, last few years. So, you’re now on a Mosquito squadron, so what was your actual role then as 627 Squadron, what were you?
KO: We were at 99 percent for marking, for main force.
DK: Right.
KO: And we were the only squadron that did what we did. We were way ahead of everybody else, and we had to dive, we introduced dive bomb marking which was not heard of before 627 Squadron was formed. But they started off the first two or three months joining in with the, flying backwards and forwards to Berlin in those days and then when we moved up with 617 Squadron, we started doing what we did, that was our thing, and that was flying ahead of main force and being there three minutes before the actual time we needed to be there because that was ten minutes between, let me try to explain it a different way, the flares, the target was illuminated by one or two squadrons of Lancasters from our station to drop thousands of luminating shares over the target area and five of us went out separately to the target and stood off until the first markers went down illuminating, lights went down and on the, dead on the spot, they were there ten minutes before the time for bombing and we went in, in that ten minutes under the flares, dive bombed the marker onto the target for about, well, anything from three, two, three hundred feet, from fifteen hundred feet and it was purely up to the pilot because he dropped the bomb, the had a china graph pencil mark on his windscreen and he, that was his only guide he had to drop his markers, and they used to put that according to how they saw it in height and that sort of thing that needed to be very careful and then we would drop off the markers at about two hundred feet, something like that.
DK: Two hundred feet.
KO: Well, we, we flew round Dresden at three or four hundred feet, probably five hundred feet for nearly ten minutes.
DK: Yeah, yeah. So, the illuminators went in first,
KO: Yes.
DK: They illuminated the target area.
KO: Yes.
DK: So you could then see where to drop your
KO: That’s right.
DK: drop your indicators by
KO: Yes.
DK: [unclear] moving on the target.
KO: Yes.
DK: And then the main force came in.
KO: After that, yes.
DK: Yeah. So, how was that controlled then? Was it?
KO: Just on timing.
DK: Literally on timing, so there’s no one there.
KO: No, no, no, no, we had to be there three minutes before the, ten minutes if you like,
DK: Right, yeah.
KO: Thirteen minutes, three minutes we had to get in our track in to go in and do our dive in.
DK: Right.
KO: That was just for error, for coming from, over from Holland down to Dresden, we had that little margin of difference, so at ten to the target, the Lancasters then came in, they had ten minutes to bomb on the markers that we had laid.
DK: So, can, just stepping back one bit, can you remember where your first operation was to then?
KO: Uhm, Bremen.
DK: Bremen. And how many operations did you actually do then?
KO: I, we did twenty-two operations altogether.
DK: Twenty-two.
KO: They were spread over a little bit but, see we only did, we had enough crews that we only did one every five.
DK: Right.
KO. We had thirty crew, thirty crew men on the, for fifteen aircraft and we only ever sent five aircraft out on an operation, so we had, there was, sort of,
DK: It’s quite a long period between flight then,
KO: Yeah, yes.
DK: So, can you remember when the tour started and when it ended, how long it was for, roughly?
KO: The first tour?
DK: Yeah.
KO: I’m having a particular bad day today, I don’t know why it is, but, oh Jesus! [laughs] I’m lost.
DK: Is it, will it be recorded in here anywhere?
KO: Yes, it was about, the middle, the middle of June-July of forty
DK: ’44.
KO: ’44.
DK: Ok, here we go, yeah, so, that’s 627 Squadron
KO: Yes.
DK: At Woodhall Spa.
KO: Yes.
DK: So, on the 25th of July
KO: Yes.
DK: ’44, so that’s all practice
KO: Yes. Our night operations were in red.
DK: Right.
KO: So, we did, only did one in every three.
DK: Ok, that way we’ll, so, that’s all practice so, uhm, cross country, practice.
KO: We practiced at least five times for every operation we did.
DK: Alright. Ok, so we got off ways to see if we got Gladbach, that’s Monchen Gladbach presumably.
KO: So, that was where Gibson got lost,
DK: Right, alright, ok.
KO: So, that was his own fault.
DK: [laughs] We’ll come back to that in a minute. Ok, [unclear]
KO: Yes, I think we did four in one week, which was an exceptional.
DK: Right.
KO: My first op was a day run to L’Isle-de-Adam, a bomb dump north of Paris. We had a fairly leisurely time as you can see.
DK: I see there is an awful lot of practice between the actual raids, isn’t it?
KO: Yeah, it was about five, one in five. Really, what brought that about was we had to have the aircraft on for that night, and they had to have a morning test before,
DK: Right.
KO: And we used the test to go and do a bombing run on the sands at
DK: [unclear]
KO: [unclear], yeah.
DK: So, navigation then and timing clearly needs to be very accurate.
KO: Yes.
DK: Yeah.
KO: But we didn’t do anything really, we flew, normal thing was that we flew out to Holland and turned from just over the coast of Holland, turned down to the, wherever we were going, from there it was, we had no troubles [unclear], we went more or less our own way, we knew what time we had to be there and that but.
DK: So, I think this is your first operation the 6th of October ’44 to Bremen.
KO: That was the first time when we used our dive bomb technique.
DK: Right, ok.
KO: It was, they didn’t know really what it was gonna be like and they told the CO that he wasn’t to go on that operation.
DK: Oh, alright. So, then you got the Mittelland Canal on the 6th of November ’44.
KO: They were easy.
DK: So, it’s got bolted flares over [unclear]. And then you’ve got, 21st of November the Dortmund-Ems Canal.
KO: Mhm, there were two or three of those.
DK: And then I’ve got here the 13th of December ’44, the Cologne and Emden ships cruisers.
KO: Yes, that was in, that was in the Oslofjord, but they moved them by the time we got up there and it was a wasted trip.
DK: So, this is [unclear] called off by marker one.
KO: Yes, well.
DK: So, it was a
KO: I can, this, as I was saying to my friend today, I’ve worried about that ever since and I cannot understand because I was absolutely dead on track all the way up there, I said the only thing I can excuse myself in is that the pilot was running ten miles an hour, he was on three hundred and twenty instead of three hundred and thirty and he would jump down my throat if I suggested that but I couldn’t find no other reason for being late cause we were dead on course for everything.
DK: Yeah, [unclear] this, that’s [unclear].
KO: That’s, that was stacked down for a purpose. Probably made a mess of it so.
DK: So, then we got 14th of January ’45 and it’s oil refinery at Mersberg. So, that’s and it’s got here two times one thousands, so that’s two one thousand pound bombs.
KO: Yeah.
DK: And the red target indicators. So that’s [unclear] what you’ve dropped and. So, then it’s 2nd of February ’45 Karlsruhe. It says target obscured by cloud. Sky marking only.
KO: Yes.
DK: So then, 2nd of Feb, Dortmund.
KO: Dortmund.
DK: It says one target marked.
KO: I’m doing well, aren’t I? [laughs]
DK: And then, 8th of Feb, Politz-Stettin, oil refinery. Stettin oil refinery, yeah. And then the 13th of Feb ’45, ops Dresden. Marker two. And then backed up, one one thousand pounder, red TI. So, just talking about that then, what actually happened on the Dresden raid? Was..
KO: Well, the, there was a trade wind blowing to start with and normally, starting off from home, we would climb to the operating height, going out and we would take a fix every three minutes and find an average wind which we would calculate to fly us on from there to Dresden. But this MIG wasn’t working particularly well and when we got to the turning point, it was a question of hops and choices to how you carried on from there. So I part guessed well I could [unclear] what I’d got already to choose from and then I realised that the thing that we had installed in the aircraft which I’d never used before, I’d never been instructed on because it was introduced while I was on leave, I thought, well, I’ll give it a go and see if I hadn’t have the charts with me and so, I took him, took him down on that, bearing as it was, there was a line running straight through Dresden that I could put up on the machine, that was terrible cause on a Gee box you had to two stroves running like that, but on this particular case, when I went on to the LORAN, it was like that and right across the thing as you couldn’t tell which was which, you had to take a guess at it and fortunately I guessed right and I didn’t navigate all the way down there. I just kept on one line and then I could, guide him down along this line all the way down to Dresden and then there was a one, there was another line crossing the second line there which went through Dresden and as soon as I kept switching backwards and forwards to that, and when that line came up, I said, right-oh Jock, we’re here now. We were three minutes early and doing the right one turn, another one [unclear] the arrival and then the main force came, we had the, the uhm, the squadrons that were dropping in there, illuminating flares came in at ten to eleven and we were just on the edge of the city, sitting there, waiting for them. We had to put those down and then we went in and dived in and we were just, just about to call out marker two, tally-ho, and number one tally-ho didn’t just in front of us so we had to go round again and
DK: So you, so marker one got his markers in first
KO: He was the flight commander anyway,
DK: Right, ok.
KO: So, couldn’t, he couldn’t
DK: Right. So, your markers then were the second to go.
KO: Yes.
DK: Right.
KO: Btu we were the most accurate.
DK: Right.
KO: On that.
DK: And how low would you’ve been when you dropped the markers?
KO: About three hundred feet.
DK: As low as that.
KO: Well, we were so low, that as we flew away from there, my pilot was looking back to see if he could see where they’d dropped and I had a shout at him because we were just gonna hit the spires of the cathedral, so I had to pull him up on that one. And then we just circled around Dresden for three or four minutes at five hundred feet and then we came home.
DK: And did you see much of the main force bombing then in that five minutes?
KO: They just started to bomb,
DK: Right.
KO: And I think they let a couple of four hundred, four thousand pounders off as we weren’t all that high and we could feel the, [unclear] get out quick now
DK: I just, for the benefit of the tape, I just read what it says here, so, 13th of Feb ’45, you took off at 2000 as, Mosquito F, so your pilot was flying officer Walker and your navigator so it says, ops Dresden, marker two, which you mentioned backed up, so is that meaning you backed up marker one?
KO: Yes.
DK: Yeah.
KO: Well, we got in, it was a football stadium
DK: Right.
KO: We got our marker in the football stadium.
DK: Alright, ok.
KO: And the others were in a bunch, nearly [unclear] a hundred yards,
DK: Yeah.
KO: Way but,
DK: So, your second ones down was actually the more accurate and then it’s got one thousand, so you got a thousand-pound bomb and red
KO: They were a thousand-pound flares.
DK: Oh sorry, so you dropped one-thousand-pound red target indicators
KO: Yeah, yeah.
DK: Sorry, yeah, so one thousand red target indicator. And you
KO: And the others all backed up after that.
DK: Yeah. So, you arrived back at 0540?
KO: I know my, my history today to you doesn’t sound very much but on my claim for a commission, my squadron commander and the camp squadron commander both put down that we were the best crews, one of the best crews of the squadron.
DK: Oh!
KO: We did do well, I mean, we felt that we, if we dropped our markers that was bloody well close on it and of course the last operation we did was at Tonsberg oil refinery at the
DK: Right.
KO: The, first up towards Oslo and
DK: So, were all the operations with Walker?
KO: Yeah.
DK: Yeah. And was he a good pilot?
KO: He was a good pilot and he was good at dropping the bombs too. We were the best on that one as well. But, I know it sounds terrible, our successes and that sort of thing but sometimes they went right and sometimes they didn’t and sometimes if our radar wasn’t working up to scratch, we
DK: So, when you were briefed for Dresden then, it was just an ordinary briefing
KO: Yes.
DK: And an ordinary target.
KO: Yes. When I was allocated onto a new job I’d only been on the squadron about six weeks, two months when I was sent to RAF Wyton 1409 Met Flight
DK: Right.
KO: For a two week crash course on wind reporting then I found myself that we were doing a big operation in south Germany and we had to stop at Manston to refuel and my job then was to decide two hundred miles from the target whether it was gonna be satisfactory for the main force to continue on to attack the target and if I didn’t think it was gonna be satisfactory, my job was to call them out and send them home.
DK: So, you’ve gone out and checked the weather in effect then.
KO: No, that was all we were supposed to be doing,
DK: Yeah.
KO: But fortunately the fog came down and we were, the thing was called off. It was never reinstated again but I think that somebody up a loft had said, well, this is a bloody silly idea in the first place.
DK: That, was that with 1409 Met Flight?
KO: Oh, that was where I was sent for those two-week crash course.
DK: Right, ok. Ok, so you’ve done the training at 1409 Met course.
KO: What there was there of it.
DK: Yeah. So, you, did you get?
KO: I was
DK: Did you get back to Manston then or?
KO: Oh yeah, yes, well we uhm, I think we came in that night, I think we came into, probably into Woodbridge.
DK: Alright. Cause there’s one here you’ve been here the 12th of October ’44, it says from Manston, yeah. You went to Manston the day before. So that idea of going out early and
KO: Cause we used the wing tanks up, you see, we needed all the petrol that we could carry to get there and back so we’d use the wing tanks up going down to Manston until we had to refuel then and while that was being done, we were a little bit early, the fog came down and the whole thing was scrubbed.
DK: Alright. That’s what it’s saying here that you remained at Manston. Yeah. So, just going on here then, 16th of March ’45, Wurzburg, ops to Wurzburg.
KO: Wurzburg.
DK: Yeah, so you’re marker two. So, one thousand [unclear] red target indicator, one one thousand yellow target indicators,
KO: That’s what we carried.
DK: Right. But we carried a red, yellow and a green, as the Germans had a funny act of if the red ones went down they’d light another red one up somewhere away from it, you see, to distract it, so we’d have to go back in again and drop the green beside the red or whatever and
DK: Is this when you’ve got the master bomber’s there then that were telling
KO: Yeah, the master bomber’s up there.
DK: Yeah. So he’s then telling who, the rest of the main force who, which coloured markers to bomb. Has he mentioned you on the same operation that Gibson was lost on
KO: Yeah, yes.
DK: You didn’t know him cause he flew a 627 Mosquito force [unclear], didn’t he?
KO: Yes, yes.
DK: You didn’t meet him there then?
KO: I’ve met him on several occasions but, you know, not sort of personally, we were, [unclear] had social occasion or on one occasion he tried to, he came into our little bar, as you can imagine, we were in Nissen huts and they were all posh in and they came down to our officer’s mess and we, that was an airman’s hut actually, the whole mess, and the kitchen that was all part of it but we had no bar arrangements or that, so we had a builder of one of the boys in the squadron, so he built the bar and built a fire in there for us so we could have an officer’s drinking area. And one night my pilot and three Australians were in there having a drink and the door opened and Gibson appears and nobody sort of moved and he came, don’t you normally stand to attention and when a senior officer comes in? And they looked at each other, said, no, no, no. So, anyway, he created such a fuss, they grabbed hold of him, took him outside, took his trousers off and told him not to come in again. The next morning, there was an officer’s parade which he officiated, went down the line and of course the Australians all six foot something in their dark uniforms and my pilot who was a real dural Scotsman,
DK: This was Walker, was it?
KO: Yeah.
DK: Yeah.
KO: He was standing at the end of the line and he got him and he put him in the glasshouse for three weeks. So, he didn’t remain very popular with our crowd.
DK: Alright.
KO: So I was flying odd bits with anybody who was needing it, the navigator, flew all that three weeks when he was
DK: Well that, I mean, that meant you had another pilot you had to fly with then that. So you, you weren’t too pleased about that then?
KO: Well, we didn’t [unclear]
DK: Alright, ok. They were just
KO: I might have gone on a night flying test.
DK: Alright, so you didn’t do any operations while he was in [unclear]
KO: No, I mean, I had a very, very nice round of it really, I mean, some of the ops we did, we, yeah, you had to have your head on and I was, I was considered to be one of the better navigators although it didn’t sound like it. You know, you don’t know the circumstances of how things go.
DK: So, what was it like then if you were, you know, you are flying the Mosquito there, you’re over enemy territory, what does it feel like, it’s very dark and you’re being shot at?
KO: Well, we weren’t being shot at, that was just the point you see. Everybody else, the main force went out on allocated circuit. We went out, there was only five of us, we went out and more or less did it the way we thought we would, we didn’t stick to any plan as long as we were there sort of three minutes before the flares went down
DK: Right
KO: Thirteen minutes before the bombers came in. So rise up and up and when cross sort of thing on the machine I said right-oh, Jock, we’re here now and three minutes early, do a right one turn, wind off three minutes and that should bring us on time, that moment in time, the flares started to come down and we turned to going to find the thing and the number one saw it just as, we were just, there’s a story in my book there, he pressed the [unclear] just at the same time my pilot was just going to so we had to go off and go round again. And that happened several times and on one, where we had to bomb Wesel, because the commanders had taken over, they crossed the river there and they were outside of Wesel, we had to mark Wesel and we went, there was five of us, we went in and we had to put our markers on the, uhm, the, what’s, I don’t know what you call it, uhm, on the stone part of the pier sort of thing
DK: Alright, ok.
KO: On the river
DK: Yeah.
KO: And both our pilots [unclear] at the same time, both pressed the button, that cut out transmission then we couldn’t hear anything else. We went in, they went in, and we went in, dropped our markers at the same time and they landed in the same, virtually the same place at the same time so how far we were apart where we dived in there, we couldn’t have been more than twenty feet apart, never saw them and they didn’t see us.
DK: I’m just reading there from your logbook, so, that’s the 23rd of March ’45 and it’s ops to Wesel, army support. And you’ve marked with a thousand-pound red target indicator. So, you both dropped at exactly the same time.
KO: And exactly the same spot.
DK: Onto a pier.
KO: Yeah.
DK: On the river.
KO: Yeah. We didn’t realise what had happened until we got back.
DK: So then just going on here, I’m just reading this out for the recorder here, so, you then got the 10 of April ’45 ops the marshalling yard near Leipzig. So, backed up number two, thousand-pound red target indicator, carrying a thousand-pound yellow target indicator.
KO: Yes.
DK: So that probably would have been your last operation then, would it or?
KO: [unclear] read, read.
DK: Oh, ok.
KO: I know that [laughs] I found out that since that my sister married a family in Northampton, they’re apparently of Jewish extraction and they came down to the grandfather had had property in East Germany,
DK: Oh, right.
KO: And nobody knew where it was or anything and it wasn’t until after the war that they set the wheels rolling and apparently there’s two blocks of very luxury apartments and we’d blown one block up and so they only got reparations for the one, who’d been getting the rent for the other one [unclear] up until that time nobody came to the fore.
DK: Oh, hang on, there’s another op here, so, uhm, so Norway, so 25th of April ’45 Tonsberg, Norway.
KO: Yes, that’s the last one I did.
DK: That’s the last one, yes, so [unclear]. So at that point the war’s ended, how did you feel then?
KO: Well, that was about the first or second op I did from commissioning.
DK: Right. So you were commissioned at this point. Yeah.
KO: But I didn’t, I didn’t bother, we didn’t know what was going to happen to us though, where we were going to go, and what happened, what happened then lot of the Ozzies were sent home and we brought in some new people because there was the Far East war and we were going to take part in that and so we were going out there to mark for 5 Group, was only 5 Group that was going out there and we were the Pathfinder Force for 5 Group but we weren’t going to do our dive bomb marking there, somebody got the bright idea of using H2S and we would fly over the target two thousand feet straight and level for two minutes and drop our markers out. You know, that was a ridiculous idea, we wouldn’t even know where the bloody markers had gone and we would’ve much rather continue what we were doing previously and knowing where it was but.
DK: This would’ve been part of Tiger Force then.
KO: Yes, this was Tiger Force and we were supposed to be leading it.
DK: So, the atomic bomb’s dropped then, how did you feel that you weren’t now having to go out to the Far East?
KO: I was a bit disappointed in some respect because I rather looked forward to the exploratory flight out there really but on the other hand, see, there was a five hundred miles from Okinawa to the landfall in Japan,
DK: Yeah.
KO: And we didn’t have that great deal of overlap of petrol to do that, so we were waiting for Mark 40 Mosquitoes to come, which were pressurized and we were flying at forty thousand feet out, taking the trade wind to blow us there, then we go down and do our marking role for drop our markers whatever to do there and then we were gonna come back at sea level because the trade wind would,
DK: Yeah, yeah.
KO: Well that was what the theory was anyway, that would blow us back, blow us there and blow us back. Which we weren’t particularly thrilled with the idea.
DK: Oh, I can imagine.
KO: As you can imagine, sort of being dropped in the sea in the middle of the Pacific there.
DK: [unclear] Get blown back [laughs].
KO: [laughs] No, some people spark ideas, I don’t know.
DK: So the war’s ended then, what were you
KO: Yeah.
DK: You carried on [unclear]
KO: What happened then was, I was supposed to be leaving the [unclear] and they started sending the Ozzies back then because the war was,
DK: Yeah.
KO: Virtually finished then and they started importing a few other crews to come in, to go on the Okinawa job and [unclear] I was gonna say now, I lost the thread or something.
DK: So, the war’s ended, you’re [unclear] not going.
KO: Yes, so a lot of the new boys that they’d brought in were dispersed amongst other stations and so forth and we were just left to [unclear] we were the only crews that were taken out of the squadron and sent firstly to Feltwell and then, I can never remember the other airfield and then ended up at Marham,
DK: Right.
KO: On a bombing development unit. Now we were supposed to think up different ways of attack for future things, well, that was a waste of time really but that was all we were doing. All the rest of the them, down the squadron as it was left, cause they’d imported a lot of aircrew, and sent the Ozzies back, and they were sent to uhm, 19th Squadron, something like that,
DK: Right.
KO: And within months it was, they were all released from it.
DK: And what happened to yourself, then you, did you leave the RAF at that point?
KO: I was still on bombing development unit.
DK: Right.
KO: We just, from there we just five crews of us there.
DK: Yeah.
KO: And I stayed on till June and I was then pat to hand in me notice so to speak.
DK: So that would have been June 1946.
KO: Yeah.
DK: Yeah, yeah, you’re at Marham. So, you’ve left the Air Force in ’46 then. Yeah. So, what did you after that then?
KO: Well, it’s a bit of a long story really, I wanted to, I wanted to get engaged to one of the WAAFs in the squadron who was a parachute packer.
DK: Right.
KO: And I wanted to get engaged, this was at Christmas time, and I went home that weekend, took a photograph and my father said, no, you’re not marrying that girl. So, I sort of, I [unclear] a little bit, he said, no, you’re not going to marry that girl, if you do, he said, we shall sell the business up, we shall go back to America cause my parents were American born.
DK: Alright, ok.
KO: So, I said very briefly, well, that’s what you want to do, that’s what you left to do. Anyhow, they didn’t go back, the father bought a bungalow outside the town and I left myself thinking that this was the route I was going to take, that he changed his mind about being awkward and he bought two limited companies in Northampton and when I came out to take on the businesses which was a great help to me because I only had one other option which was to stay in the Air Force.
DK: Yeah.
KO: But that wasn’t very good because they really didn’t want anybody else in the, in there but that’s. So where I went and I was in Northampton then for five or six years working on the family business and then we divided up from there into the different companies and so forth.
DK: [unclear] The family business actually involve?
KO: A restaurant and bakeries.
DK: Oh, alright, ok. So, so looking back now, after all these years, several years, how do you feel about your time in the Air Force?
KO: I mean, for good or bad?
DK: Both [laughs]
KO: I thoroughly enjoyed it.
DK: Alright.
KO: No, it was a great experience, I learned a lot really from it, you know, and I wouldn’t have missed a day of my experiences there I mean [unclear] fly in the Air Force, when I came home and joined the local flying club and I was flying several hundred hours [unclear].
DK: So you did eventually get your private pilot’s license, then.
KO: I got my private pilot license, yes.
DK: Yeah. And, one other question I’ve got, did you know anything about the controversy of 627 Squadron moving from Bennett’s 8 Group to
KO: Oh, it was a bit of an argy bargy about that.
DK: Yeah.
KO: But, no, that’s what, what came away and that’s what we accepted.
DK: So, when you initially joined 627, you were part of 8 Group, were you, under Bennett.
KO: Yes. And 6
DK: And then moved to 5 Group under Cochrane.
KO: Yes. And 617 Squadron were on the same station with us.
DK: Right.
KO: So, it was quite a nice association really.
DK: Yeah. And you got on well with 617 Squadron.
KO: Oh yes.
DK: Yeah, yeah.
KO: Was a really good arrangement really.
DK: So, that controversy then, you just accepted you were going to another group.
KO: Well, that was all you could do really.
DK: Yeah.
KO: Hadn’t got a great deal of option [laughs].
DK: Ok. Well, absolutely marvelous.
KO: I’m sorry I’ve been so
DJK: You’ve been absolutely wonderful, brilliant, don’t worry, it’s useful having the logbook here cause we’ve gone through the various
KO: My memory seems to be worse at times than others and
DK: You’ve been absolutely marvelous, no, it’s been good
KO: Good. It’s been absolute rubbish from my point of view.
DK: That’s been good. Right, I’ll turn that off now.
KO: Ok.
DK: Ok, thank you very much.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Interview with Ken Oatley
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
David Kavanagh
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-03-21
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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AOatleyK170321, POatleyK1701
Format
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01:03:33 audio recording
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Civilian
Description
An account of the resource
Initially too young to enlist at the outbreak of war, Ken Oatley served in the Home Guard until he was able to enlist in October 1940, when after initial training he undertook pilot training. After basic flying training he went onto Canada training on Oxfords. It was whilst there Donald Bennett was forming the Pathfinder Force. Five pilot trainees were taken from each course to retrain as navigators and Ken was selected for transfer. Eventually posted to 627 Squadron at RAF Woodhall Spa on Mosquito aircraft, Ken flew a total of 22 operations. He describes how 627 Squadron operated within Bomber Command operations, explaining how their role was to arrive and illuminate the designated targets for the following bombers. This included the operation on Dresden in February 1945. At the end of the war, Ken served with the Bomb Development Unit at RAF Marham, before being demobbed in 1946.
Contributor
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Ian Whapplington
Peter Schulze
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1940-10
1945-02
1946
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Canada
Great Britain
England--Norfolk
Germany
Germany--Dresden
England--Lincolnshire
Conforms To
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Pending revision of OH transcription
106 Squadron
16 OTU
1660 HCU
617 Squadron
627 Squadron
aircrew
Bennett, Donald Clifford Tyndall (1910-1986)
bombing
bombing of Dresden (13 - 15 February 1945)
civil defence
Gibson, Guy Penrose (1918-1944)
Heavy Conversion Unit
Home Guard
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
Master Bomber
Mosquito
navigator
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
Pathfinders
RAF Manston
RAF Marham
RAF Metheringham
RAF Scampton
RAF Sealand
RAF Swinderby
RAF Syerston
RAF Upper Heyford
RAF Woodhall Spa
Stirling
target indicator
Tiger force
Tiger Moth
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1124/11616/ASimmsL160807.2.mp3
d03ad22f9baad15ec57a6d9bef25f216
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
Simms, Lester
L Simms
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with Lester Simms (1924 - 2017, 1812002 Royal Air Force). He was posted to 106 Squadron at RAF Metheringham as ground personnel before he was posted to Rhodesia to be trained as a pilot.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-08-07
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Simms, L
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
GC: This is an interview being conducted on behalf of the International Bomber Command Centre Digital Archive, my name is Gemma Clapton, the interviewee today is Lester Simms of 106 Squadron.
LS: Yes.
GC: Er, the interview is being conducted at [place omitted], on the 7th August 2012, 2016. I’d like to say thank you very much for letting me be here today.
LS: Right.
GC: Erm, can you just tell me a bit about life before the war and how you joined up, please?
LS: Er yes, I really had quite an interesting life, before it even started. I had the most terrible childhood, with two parents that should never have had, erm, should never have had children [laughs]. You want this too?
GC: Yes.
LS: With parents who should never have children. My mother was from a Welsh mining family, erm, Neath in Glamorgan, in South Wales, and my father was from a very rich family. He’d had public school education, it was a clash of different — I saw two different sides of life entirely before I even went into the RAF, erm, and one day, my father, who was a born Australian, just disappeared. I didn’t know what had happened, do you know when you’re young, you don’t know what’s going on, you take everything for granted as though this is what happens to everybody, but suddenly, my father disappeared. As it turned out, he upped left my, his wife, my mother and two, two boys and went back to Australia. Now what that period was, I have no idea. All I know is that some years later, we were living at a place called Nailsea in Bristol with my mother, my mother was a nurse, erm, I won’t tell you the bad side of my mother because I don’t think it should go down in writing.
GC: Okay
LS: But she was actually a nurse and an absolutely dreadful mother, erm, my brother and I were left alone at seven, eight or nine years old, I can’t remember how long it was, and we went to the ordinary common or garden, what were in those days known as elementary or council schools and I even can remember being ashamed of my mother, because I didn’t want the other children to see her, that’s how my young life was. But, suddenly [emphasis] one day, it must have been some years after my father had left home and gone back to Australia where he was born, erm, there was a knock on the door where we lived near Bristol, and my father just grabbed me by the collar, chucked me in his car and I never saw my mother again [pause]. In fact, I think ‘til I came out of the Air Force, I never saw my mother at all, so what happened, er, to my brother, I never did know. So what happened then was, I spent — my father was very itinerant, he moved all over the UK doing what he wanted to do, which was buying and selling motor cars, worked for some different companies, but I, I was all over, all over Britain, not going to school properly, with my father. He had a sister who was actually a multi-millionaire. One day I was told that I was going to a different school, so I was taken to Harrods, in London, completely kitted out, with things that I’d never seen in my life before, you know, a big trunk, and everything that, and sent to a public school, erm, Imperial Service College Windsor, which was the most dramatic thing for anybody to experience. There were, in fact, I remember, there were two Russian princes there, the Romanovs, what happened to them, I don’t know but, of course, the Romanovs all got, erm, killed in the revolution, but it was a school for, it was a school for ex-Army officers’ sons, Imperial Service College Windsor, which was next door to Eton in fact. Although it wasn’t Eton, but it was a very, if you like to say, a posh school, erm, this was very difficult for me to, to accept. You can imagine going to a school where they come, people would come from very rich stock and I’ve come from seeing what I saw and what I knew. My father was always, he was always, a sort of influence, influential, affluent sort of person, he was somebody who everybody would look up to, because he, he was six foot four tall, he’d been to two public schools, erm, he was also a, a cricketer, county cricketer and [pause] It was so, I suppose really and truly, I forgot my mother and took my father’s side in it. But anyway, to get on from there, I left that school in 19, in 19, I think I left the school, the war had already started, in 1939, and we moved with my father to a little cottage at Weybridge in Surrey, where funnily enough, Weybridge was, was the home of, erm, one of the aircraft manufacturing companies, and I was, actually on September 3rd 1939, I was at this cottage in Weybridge which was, maybe as the crow flies, or as the ‘plane would fly, maybe just a few minutes from Brooklands, which was an aircraft factory. On that day, it later turned out, I saw this German aircraft come down over my house and heard the machine gun going, and apparently, the aircraft workers, it was lunchtime, were all outside eating their lunches in the sunshine and many of them were shot up by this. It was a Heinkel bomber. I didn’t know anything about this, all I can remember was that aircraft with crosses on it, which I’d seen come right over my house, then heard the machine gun fire that’s why I never knew anything else, but that was at Weybridge. And then, from there onwards, I’d actually gone to school, so I’ve done it a little bit backwards, but sorry. Somehow then my, my brother appeared, I don’t know how, why or from where, I don’t know, my brother appeared on the scene and, erm, we were together for a while. Some of which, what happened, I can’t remember the, what happened in the interim years, to be honest with you, all I know is that when I was exactly 17 years old it went through anyway. I was with my father, I never saw my mother still, erm, it went through those years, and when I was 17 years old, which you can work out from the times there [laughs]
GC: Um
LS: I was born in 24, 17 — 1941, I volunteered for, I’d decided I wanted to be a pilot, my ambition, because I’d already got myself a motorcycle and I loved riding motorbikes, which I did up to about ten years ago actually, erm, I decided that I wanted to be a pilot. So I went along to the Air Force volunteer place, volunteered and said I wanted to be a pilot, they said alright, and in, I suppose [coughs], sorry, I suppose at the beginning of 1942, it must have been at the beginning of 1942, erm, they sent me to a place called Cardington in Bedfordshire, which was an RAF, it was the main barrage balloon centre of London, of Britain. It was, erm, I’ve forgotten, it was a Royal Air Force place, it had a certain flight num —squadron number, which I’ve forgotten. But, the RAF were using it as an aircrew recruiting centre for potential, potential pupils for aircrew. That was the pilots, navigators, bomb aimers, so I volunteered as a pilot. Everybody volunteers to be a pilot but it’s not so easy to get a pilot grading, you’ve got to, and I know for one thing, you’ll read in all the annals of the Air Force that, er, being a little bit of a snob, going to a public school, going to a university, got you into the flying in the Air Force and they wanted this kind of person in there so they could go and get killed pretty quickly. As it turned out, of course. But you did need to be, and the reason that, I know one of the reasons that I was selected for pilot training was as a result of the interview and the medicals I had. I was sent away, erm, oh sorry I missed a bit at the end of all this, ‘cause I’m going back a long time, so I don’t think I’m doing too badly at the moment [laughs]
GC: [laughs]
LS: [pause] I passed everything, I passed the medical, I passed the IQ test, everything else that you need, and you have to be something a little bit special to be a pilot, you have to have something about you to be a pilot, so, and I passed everything. So suddenly I was called in for the final interview there, at Cardington, I was called into the office, and a group of bigwigs was sat there with the scrambled eggs on the hat, as we use to call it. The top RAF officers had the gold on top of their hat, and they said, ‘Right, well, you have passed, you have passed your flying training, but unfortunately, you’re not old enough. We didn’t properly look at your age and you volunteered when you were 17, and you can’t come in until you’re 17 and a half’, so I had to wait six months. So I said, ‘Oh, what shall I do in six months?’ So they said, ‘Well, we’d recommend that in view of your interest in aircraft and flying, that you find an aircraft factory and see if you can work there’. Well, by strange coincidence, sorry, I’ll just turn this off now, by strange coincidence, I lived at Kingston on Thames. Now Kingston on Thames was the headquarters of Hawker Aircraft Company Limited, and I went along there seeking a job, explained to them who I was, and what I was doing there, and I was waiting to go for my pilot training, and I’d been recommended by the RAF to find someone like them. They welcomed me with open arms and they put me in the experimental department of Hawker Aircraft, and leading that was, leading that department, was a man called Sydney Camm. He’s one of the most famous aircraft designers in Britain, he designed the Hurricane, the Typhoon. I never actually saw Sydney Camm, but his office was there and I just worked under one of the top engineers there, and we did all sorts of interesting things, erm, mostly I was just a ‘gimme’, ‘gimme this’ or ‘gimme that’, and wherever I went [laughs] his name was Wrigglesworth, that’s all I remember about him, but one [bird clock chimes], very interesting thing, which was [bird clock chimes], which was very much, sorry, it’s a bird clock. [bird clock chimes]
GC: [laughs]
LS: [laughs] one very interesting thing that we did [bird clock chimes], which maybe you would like to perhaps record down there [bird clock chimes], is that we fitted the first, we fitted the first, we had the job to fit a Hawker Hurricane, with the first fifty millimetre canons underneath there. I went to a place called Manston, which is another famous bomber command, fighter command station. We went to Manston to do this [background noises], oh he’s ok [laughs], that’s alright, I’ll just have a drink. [pouring drink]
GC: Carry on.
LS: So, erm, I’m not quite sure now where I got to.
GC: The guns.
LS: As I say we, one of the, the most interesting job was — ‘cause the German fighters always had better armament than the British fighters though the Hurricane and the Spitfire only had relatively simple guns, and indeed Lancaster bombers only had the same guns that we used in rifles by the army, 303s. But they needed, they needed canons, which was what the German fighters had, so that we could, so that our aircraft could blow the German aircraft out of the war with canons rather than just bullets and so that’s why we fitted, what happened after that, I don’t know. All I know is underneath this Hurricane, we fitted two fifty millimetre cannons and that was the most important job I did there. But eventually in 1940, in September 1942, funny how I can remember the date, I was called to the Euston House in London and attested there, signed in as aircrew, and that started my career in the Air Force. Now, if you read any books on what happened to aircrew, initially, we all, even, there were grades of aircrew, there was PNBs, that was pilot, navigator, bomb aimer. They were the senior grades, but afterwards came wireless operators, erm, flight engineers, air gunners, all those people who were on a Lancaster, well there was seven on a crew on a Lancaster. So you had wireless operator, flight engineers and two air gunners and navigator. Sorry, the navigators were part of us, PNB was pilot, navigator, bomb aimer, but the rest were all the other grades that we used in flying, that’s, as I say flight engineers, bomb, flight engineers, erm, radio operators and air gunners. Anyway, so [pause] I was attested then we went, all of us, all aircrew, went to St Johns Wood in London, which was Lords cricket ground, and they’d taken over all around Lords cricket ground, some people were actually stationed on Lords cricket ground and were using the facilities there to introduce people, initially introduce people to the Royal Air Force. But I know we stayed in a block of modern flats and we went through absolute hell there. I mean, we were treated more like prisoners of war than people who had volunteered to give our lives, by stupid ex-ground staff training people, to train us in, in all the other things like marching and all stupid things [bell rings]
GS: [chuckles]
LS: Last thing you need when you’re up in the air.
GS: Yes.
LS: Right, so from there, this is the more interesting part now, I think we are probably coming to, sorry about this, you’ve got to get used to these darn things [background noises], otherwise I’d completely lose my breath through no oxygen [laughs]
GS: It’s alright.
LS: Then you, all you’ve got is a gasp [laughs]
GS: [Laughs]
Unknown: [Laughs]
LS: [Laughs] right, so then we spent, I’m not sure how long, probably a month or something, there being introduced. Right, so then at my time, you’ve then come to 1943. Now at that time, right up to that time, within a short time after that, probably within eighteen months, you’d be trained as a pilot and you’d be actual operational duties against the enemy, flying, flying to Germany and such. Wherever, wherever it was taken. I had actually, I missed a little bit, towards the middle of my flying training, they asked, ‘Did you want to be a fighter pilot or a bomber pilot?’ Well I never wanted aerobatics, I was never very, I didn’t, wasn’t enthusiastic about turning upside down and flying at ten thousand feet into a spin and then recovering. You wouldn’t have to do that with a heavy aircraft. So I choose bombers and that’s why, I went the second part of my flying course was SFTS, which was the senior flying training school. I would have gone on a different aircraft in a different, erm, different squadron if I’d chosen to be fighter command. That was even, in the same place in Rhodesia where I went to. Oh, course we haven’t got to that yet have we.
GC: [laughter]
LS: [laughs] Okay.
GC: He’s just trying to keep me on my toes.
Unknown: Yes [laughs]
LS: You could put this on the comedy hour!
Everyone: [Laughter]
LS: Okay so right. So then they had to know what to do with us, because the courses for pilots, for pilots was probably just, flying alone, was probably a year. But, as I said, the South Africa, Canada, Australia and Rhodesia were the main ones and we all had to wait for a course to be available. So what they did with us then, which happened to most aircrew, there was a place called Heaton Park in Manchester, which is very famous, erm, in the Manchester, it’s still going strong, Heaton Park. But we were sent to Heaton Park in Manchester, it was an aircrew holding centre, so they held us there until we could have a, a position to train as pilots or whatever else we were going to train as. But they couldn’t hold too many of us there, so when, I presume, when it became saturation point, they sent us, groups of us out to operational stations or to training then, you are then away from training aircraft, you’re then fully, fully occupied with operational aircraft. Which as far as I was concerned, would be Stirlings, Halifax, Lancasters or, erm, or those three. So, I dunno, we were there a few weeks at Heaton Park before they sent me out to my first posting, which was a temporary posting, prior to going to my flying training. And that was 106 Squadron, that was the Lancaster squadron at Metheringham. Now 106 Squadron was very closely associated, because it was next door, with 617 Squadron, which everybody knows is the Dambusters [pause], and 9 Squadron, which was another famous RAF, at Bardney they were. And from there, to a certain extent, I learnt what it was all about, although it should have frightened me, but it didn’t. Erm, I saw aircraft coming back being shot up, what I never knew was, I mean, we could lose three or four aircraft, it was only, it was only about twenty-two aircraft on each of these squadrons, but suddenly one or two would be missing. We were never told that, and incidentally neither were the other aircrew members of other aircraft, that their pals had been missed, they would have just missed them in the mess, maybe in the billets where they were staying, not, not see them anymore.
GC: Um
LS: Then people used to come in and take all their belongings and then they were sent back, all their belongings were sent back to their parents. So, I did learn a lot there. But what I did was, being a bit of a pub lad, erm, I palled up with one of the crews. Now they all went down to the local pub at Martin, which was right next to the airfield at Metheringham where I was, 106 Squadron at Metheringham we’re talking about now, I think you, that’s where I am, but next door was a village called Martin. Now in the normal way the aircraft, the airfield would have been called, it was taken over from farmland, the aircraft would have been called Martin, but it didn’t have a railway station, but Metheringham, which is the next [unclear] village, so they called it RAF Metheringham, but it wasn’t Metheringham at all, of course. But anyway, we come to the pub at Martin, which was The Royal Oak at Martin. I palled up with one of the crews, who’s, it’s a funny thing really, of course, I knew what they were doing, but I never realised that they were out to kill themselves, you know. ‘Cause I would meet up with Vic, his picture’s there actually [background noise], his picture’s there and I finally, because of doing what I was doing with 106 Squadron reunion and with the, erm, dealing with parental enquiries, anything that came to me, which is what I’ve been doing, I managed to find out he came from Barnsley, and I managed to find out actually, I found out his family. One of the, one of the daughters of his aunt sent me that picture and the aunt, who’s now well into her nineties, when she found out, ‘cause they didn’t know what happened. All they got was a letter to say that he’d been killed, erm, and where he was buried. He was buried actually in Durnbach, in a cemetery in Germany, we’ll come to that in a minute. But anyway, erm, I palled up with this crew and the interesting thing was, of course, when you were sent, I think there were six of us, sent out to this, this aircrew, just to get rid of us. Remember Heaton Park wanted us out of the way so they dispatched us, the first place was there, and then, of course, when you arrived there, you never had a job to do. You got no trade, you were waiting to be trained as pilots so they just gave us odd jobs, and some of the jobs were quite interesting. Of course, based at RAF Metheringham, was a system called FIDO, fog intensive dispersal of, which was, because in the winter, an aircraft couldn’t actually land at some of the airfields because fog would prevent the landings. So they, they created this thing, which was the whole length of the runway, the main runway, was a pipe surrounded, big iron, I don’t know exactly what it was, but big iron things like that and when an aircraft was coming in to land, it was petrol, they used ordinary petroleum, ordinary petroleum and they’d set it alight and the fog would go, because this massive, apparently it burned so many gallons of petrol in such a short time, but it would allow the aircraft to see the runway and land, and I can remember so often, so why I’m telling you this was, they said, ‘Well what are we going to do with you people?’ The commanding officer, so they gave us jobs, and one of them was to repair holes in the aircraft, sorry, not in the aircraft, in the runway, erm, and that was an interesting job, all kinds of interesting this time. I was one, the only one of my group ever who could drive, ‘cause I learnt to drive ‘cause my father always had cars and I learnt to drive when I was probably ten or eleven.
GC: [Laughs]
LS: So I could drive, so I was always the driver wherever I was and a driver was needed, I was always the driver. But anyway, so we used to go out to the airfield and we even had a concrete mixer, a mixer so we could fill the holes, we did all that. One or two adventures, I don’t think we need go into stupid things that happened, but, and then one day, this might be of interest ‘cause it’s quite funny, erm, two of us were appointed to paint the inside, which was called distempering in those days, that was the white stuff, it’s called emulsion now, but, but even private houses used, for the ceilings, it was called distemper. And they gave us this distemper and we first had to do the toilet, the men’s toilet and then afterwards we had to do the ceiling in the headquarters. Well the first thing that happened was, I had just finished distempering the men’s toilet, well the most famous, erm, squadron leader at Metheringham was Group Captain McKechnie and I was just finishing off in the men’s toilet, and the group captain walked in for a jimmy riddle, and he looked at me and he said, ‘What’s your name?’ I said, ‘Simms, Sir’, he said, ‘Looks a lot better Simms, well done’. And he sat there having a jimmy riddle and in the middle of his jimmy riddle he turned his head round at me, he said, ‘It smells better too Simms.’
GC: [Laughs]
LS: That was the group captain and he’s quite famous, I mean nobody knows[laughter], so anyway, that was the first, well the second thing that happened, the next day two of us were appointed to paint the ceilings, so we had two stepladders and then a plank going across the top. So, erm, we managed this, but one of the lads was at the other end and I was at this end. What I hadn’t realised was, he was on the other side of the ladder, with the distemper.
GC: [laughs]
LS: So I said, ‘I won’t be a minute’. [laughs] I got down, the ladder went up in the air, the whole bucket of distemper went everywhere [emphasis], we had to clear the whole, sorry, I remember it being absolutely hell. He was covered in whitewash ‘cause he’d gone right down in the middle of it [laughter], so that was the most interesting thing that happened there. But, getting to the more interesting points, I was posted away from there and as far as I knew, Vic was still there. I did on one occasion, I said, ‘Vic’, he was the rear gunner by the way, Vic, the one you’ve seen in the photograph, I said, ‘Vic, could you get me on a trip one day?’ I mean of all the stupid things to do, it shows, shows you the people like me didn’t appreciate what we were going to do in the future. I said, ‘Could you get me on one of these trips?’ He said, ‘I’ll ask the captain’. so I met him in the pub some nights afterwards, he said, ‘Oh’, he said, ‘You’re not allowed to come with us, it’s forbidden’. So, of course, I didn’t go and as it so happens he, I’ve worked it out afterwards, he came back off that trip anyway, but I disappeared, suddenly you were told you’re going somewhere else and I was taken away from there, I think probably after three months at Metheringham. But ingrained into my mind was an attachment, because it was the only real operational station I was sent to while I was waiting to go for my flying training, and 106 Squadron means a great deal to me, and that’s why I’ve run the reunions for the last four years, because the man who did it, died suddenly. His wife phoned me up, she said, ‘He just died in a chair’. And he wasn’t very old and he wasn’t ex-RAF, but his brother was and his nephew was, erm, and this is why I’m doing the job that he was, which he’d done for seven or eight years. But suddenly, he died and I sort of took it over, running the reunion, which I did for four years and also, erm, any enquiries that came in from 106 Squadron. We have a publication, Tom, I wonder if you, um, just this pile on the right, there’s some magazines under there, RAF magazines, just one of those. No, not that one, the printed ones [background noises], are they there? There’s a few of them there, just one of those. Yes, thanks. That’s our 106 Squadron publication, which comes out every three months, and you can see I’m there as the contact there.
GC: Yes. Um.
LS: So this is what I do, what I still do, although I don’t run the reunion side of it anymore. Running reunions is like trying to herd cats [laughter], it’s impossible. It is. Because you tell them when the reunion is and, ‘Oh, I can’t do that date’. Well I can’t change, so you just have to try to get people early enough, and if you do it too early, of course, they forget [laughter]. Anyway our reunions, which are very interesting, were held at the Petwood Hotel, which was the officer’s mess of the Dambusters, as you probably know, a very famous place, so every year, for the last ten years, we’ve had our reunion at the Petwood, which brings back fantastic memories. We’d go there on the Sunday, always at the beginning of July, and we’d stay there ‘til the Thursday morning, but on the Tuesday, Conningsby is where the Lancaster is, and the Lancaster flew over for us every year. The last two years it hasn’t flown because the engines been, one of the engines has been kaput, so we haven’t had it fly over. This time I wasn’t able to go because of this breathing problem which was in July, and so they had a Spitfire, ‘cause there’s Spitfires and Hurricanes based there, what’s left of them, are based there. As well as the operational crew, if the prime minister presses the button and Air Force are needed, that’s where they are, at Conningsby, you probably know that.
GC: Um
LS: But it’s true, they’re all ready to go if anything happens. But anyway, so, erm, the Lancaster is based there, this is where I’ve [unclear], but most people know that anyway. But it’s still, it’s still kaput. But so that’s it really, so I finished, not saying goodbye to Vic, but while I was out doing my flying training and sometime afterwards, out in, when I was out in Rhodesia, I got a letter to say that the crew had been lost over Stuttgart, erm, the only aircraft of our squadron that was lost that night. It was August the twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth, over Stuttgart and I think, pretty certain it was shot down by German fighters. But the only one of ours, there were actually two hundred and fifty aircraft that took part that night but we had only got, we had nineteen, we had eighteen went out and, er, one didn’t come back and that was Vic’s, so I got that letter when I was out in Rhodesia, erm, to say that they’d been lost. Of course, reading a lot of books on Bomber Command, which I have been doing, in fact I think I am reading too many [laughs], I think I’m reading too many, erm, that I’ve found out a lot more about what happened, and, anyway. So, ok, so I will quickly now go back, then I was sent back to Heaton Park without knowing, Vic was still flying when I left, his crew were going, in fact he was killed, actually, I’m not sure when I actually left there, so I must have left there some, I’ve got a feeling it was September, went back to Heaton Park and then from there I went to a Halifax, the same thing again, they’d take us in there, hold us for a few days then send us out to another, just to get rid of us, while we’re waiting. So I went to another, to a Halifax conversion unit, because probably aircrew, when they change aircraft, they have to go to a conversion unit. So the Halifax was the other big bomber and that was one at Selby in Yorkshire. Nothing particularly interesting happened there, I think I was probably there for the same period as I was at Metheringham, one or two months. We were just there, I can’t even remember what we did, then I came back again, into Heaton Park, for the last time, but then was sent out to a flying boat squadron, in north of Scotland, Mill Town, Sunderland base. When we got there, there was six of us again and they said, ‘Right, we want a volunteer’. So I volunteer for anything. So, ‘We want a volunteer’. So they said, ‘Are any of you drivers?’ I said, ‘Yes, I’m a driver’, and they said, ‘Right, we want a volunteer to drive the, to drive the crash, erm, the crash vehicle’. So, well I didn’t realise at the time, of course, what it entailed but so I volunteered to drive this crash vehicle. It was a crash on the airfield or anywhere else in the vicinity, you went out, and tried to help, erm, and that was fine, I can’t remember what else we did, all I know, that I always had this crash thing, the crash vehicle, near me. Fact, we used to take it down the pub at nights [laughter], ‘cause we were on the radio, we used to go down the pub [laughs]. I remember one night, I’m trying to turn round, knocked somebody’s fence down [laughter] in this crash car. You couldn’t see out the back, it was a big thing. But anyway, one night, we’ve been out, we got the message on the radio, there’s been a crash at a place called Lhanbryde in Scotland, and we found it very quickly and they said it was a Wellington and it had crashed, and I saw things there that were absolutely dreadful. Just mangled bodies, and the people had already got there, ambulance people had already got there, erm, and I could see things that I, well, there was a young woman alongside me and I put my arm around her, I said, ‘Are you alright?’ She said, ‘I’m a nurse’, she said [laughs] So, anyway, I saw things there which you would have thought would have put someone like me, there was only two of us on this crash thing by the way, I don’t know what the others were doing, I don’t know I’ve forgotten, but I remember, I couldn’t eat anything for about three or four days after seeing what I saw, what I’d seen, it was pretty dreadful. But anyway, back into Heaton Park and then the next thing, something very interesting happened, really. I was due to go to America, for the flying school in America, I got the most tremendous dose of flu’ and the medical officer, I was due to go to America the next day and he said, ‘You can’t go anywhere, look at you’. I was steaming. He said, ‘Stay here, you can go on the next —’ so I actually went to Rhodesia, which actually was much more easy going than America was. It was much easier for me, for my flying training to go and, I’ve got the flying in my book there, but there’s nothing there that’ll tell you anything. It’s just my log, my hours, there’s no, you know, you’ll come across, you’ve probably already come across, aircrew members that did trips, you see their log books where they flew that night and the results, but I haven’t got any of that, because I didn’t do any operational training. So then, so that’s what actually happened, erm, I went out to Rhodesia, we, I won’t go into that, but there was something like three thousand people killed in flying training accidents, so I had two near squeaks, erm, which I got out of, obviously ‘cause I’m here. But flying things, once the instructor sent me up in an aircraft that had been declared kaput and he’d forgotten to record it. I took off, and the next thing, the screen’s gone black in front of me and I realised I had to get down quickly, but I mean on take-off, that’s the worst time for any aircraft to have a problem, because you just go straight in, but luckily the engine kept going, I went round and landed. And another time it was spinning and it wouldn’t come out of the spin. I had to induce the spin and then recover, but luckily on that particular day, erm, instead of flying at night for practice, what they did, so we didn’t, the instructors, the airfield and everybody didn’t have to acclimatise themselves for night flying, erm, what they did with a twin engine trainer, sorry, a twin seat trainer, you would have a hood over you, so you’d go up in daylight but as far as you were concerned, in the back seat, it was night, so they did our night flying training with the hood. So I had to recover from a spin at night, so I had to put it in the spin, which is quite easy to do that, you stall the engines so the aircraft goes like that, and then you have to, and then it goes around and around. So you do this at ten thousand feet, erm, and the instructor sitting in the front said, ‘Right, now put her in a spin’. So I did and it wouldn’t come out, it would not come out. When you’re in a spin, you put the joy stick right forward and full opposite rudder against, if you’re going to the right, you rudder, I’d done all that, it would not come out of a spin. So I was going, I often wondered, would I jump, but I knew then that I would jump, so I’ve put the night flying hood back, and the main hood back, so then out in the open air and we’re still going round, and all of a sudden, the instructor shouted out, I remember so clearly what he shouted, ‘I’ve got her, I’ve got her!’ he shouted out [laughs], and all of a sudden, he only did what I’d done so how he did it, I’ll never know, maybe he put a bit of engine on or something, but it wasn’t going to recover. So that was the only exciting part really, and when I nearly had it. There were other little things happen, but that happens when you’re training to fly an aircraft anyway. So that was it so, at the end of, that was on single engine, you never would go into a spin with twin engine aircraft, because we probably wouldn’t come out. So you just had to learn, it’s all about controls of the aircraft, that’s why you did all these things under any circumstances, really. So that was the end of my flying training there and that’s when, at the end of, we were due to get our wings, now we come to the end bit there [pause], they called us all, there was a hundred and twenty started on the course, there was sixty of us left, they said, ‘Right well, we don’t need pilots anymore, you’ve got a choice. Sign on for three years with four years on the RAF reserve’. So you go back into civvy life, but you’d be available for call up any time. Well I wanted to come back to the UK, which, in a way, was a shame, because at that posh school that I went to, Imperial Service College Windsor, erm, there was another guy, one of the pupils there was a Rhodesian and when we got to Rhodesia, first thing I did was looked in the telephone book and there was a Watman, one only in the telephone book. It was his parents and they looked after us so well. But he, John’s father, was the president of the Royal Tobacco Company of South Africa and he offered me a job with my own aircraft as a site manager, going all round the airfields, all round South Africa, as a manager. I didn’t, I should have done it, but I didn’t. So I would have had the chance to have stayed out there, but I didn’t, anyway, war went on and maybe I would have had to come back. So I just came back and I was demobilised, I came out of the Air Force then, and then, as I said earlier, which is written in that thing that you’ve got, erm I didn’t know what to do with myself. My father was an officer in the Army, he came out of the Army, he’d got, my father had got no sense of economics, in spite of the wealth of his family, he’d got no sense of economics at all. We often never had anything, not even food sometimes when he was around, ‘cause he gambled all his money away, he was a gambler. But he decided, he’d got dreams about when he came out of the Army, he was going to open a filling station and have at the back, chickens and animals and things, this was his sort of dream. But he’d got no sense of economics whatsoever and, luckily for me, I’ve got a pretty good sense of economics, and I could see things were going wrong. I tried working with him, um, but it didn’t work. So I thought, what the hell can I do with myself now, as I never really had a proper home with him, because it was his home, and that wasn’t a home at all. He had a girlfriend who I hated, but anyway [laughs], so I decided maybe I would go back in the Air Force and see. So I went back in the Air Force, I told you earlier, they didn’t want aircrew anymore, so, they offered me motor transport, so I said, ‘OK, I’ll take it’. So I joined on a short term contract of about two years, I think it was, erm, to go back into the Air Force again, I thought, well, then that gives me time, I was still very young, I was only nineteen I think, time to make my mind up and do things properly again in the UK. But erm, so when I was sent to my first MT division, again they said, ‘We’re looking for volunteers’ [laughs], so I said, ‘What for?’ They said, ‘No’. They said to me, ‘Would you volunteer for something?’ I said, ‘What’s it for?’ He said, ‘Bomb disposal’. So I said, ‘OK’. So I volunteered for bomb disposal, and I had that two years that I was in there, on bomb disposal, because the RAF were responsible for all enemy bombs on RAF territory, erm, all enemy bombs on RAF territory and all Allied bombs, jettisoned bombs, as the bomber’s coming in and it’s got to land, it sometimes would jettison it’s bombs on farmland, so, we were responsible for those, getting those up. And also, if the Germans had dropped bombs on our airfield, we were responsible for, and that’s what I did. And there were one or two adventures there which I don’t think I should bore you with [laughs]. What? Yes? Oh. [laughs]
GC: [Laughs]
LS: Well, erm, funnily enough the most interesting thing that happened at a place called Farnham, erm, yes I think it was called Farnham, place called Warren Wood, which was near Elsingham, I think it’s called, it’s on the road to Norwich, was a huge American Army bomb disposal dump there. The Americans had gone and left all their equipment there. Well, there was a lot of stuff left there, and we had to dispose of all that. The only danger, gosh it was dangerous, digging up bombs, when we got down to a bomb, the local press would come and look at us, down the hole with this bloody great bomb, standing there [laughs], but there was no danger really [laughter]. The danger was, was that the Americans used a bomb called a composition B bomb, which went off without a fuse, erm, and we had to deal with those. And what was done with bomb disposal, you would get the bombs, you would find, when I was based at Waterbeach near Cambridge, erm, we had Lakenheath nearby, which was a big area, so we could take these bombs up to the airfield there and instead of blowing them up, what you did was, you put like a metal saw on the top, which circulated, so you strapped it down and then from a remote control, you drilled a hole in this bomb and if it went off, it just blew the equipment away, erm, but then once the hole is there and the adhesive was inside, we just steamed it out. It was, we were at some very interesting places and it was the one place again where I was very lucky not to be killed, er, because, I’m not too sure this should be written, but amongst the bomb disposal people that was with us, there was about ten of us I think, now again, I could drive, so I was the driver, so I was always flicking around getting the food and stuff, but I also had to do the bomb, I had to do the bomb duties as well. Just because you were the driver meant you had an extra job, you didn’t get extra pay for that, but you had the extra job of being the driver, so I had time to walk around this site, and it was a big, it was a big wooded area. Well one day, I’m walking around, and funnily enough, a dog had befriended us, so I got very pally with this dog and I used to take it for walks. Where it came from, I never did know [laughter], and I was walking this dog one day in a direction which I think I’d never been before, and all of a sudden, I came across this big metal hut, which was called a nissen hut, they were round things, and I opened the door and it was full of stuff in there, all cases and cases of ammunition [pause]. Well now I’m coming to the bit which I shouldn’t tell you about, but we had one of our members, he was a cockney from Walthamstow, and during that time, women couldn’t get nylon, but a lot of the parachutes were made of nylon and we had these cases of these, they were called fragmentation bombs, they were about that size and when they hit the ground they fragmentated, the pieces went all everywhere and killed everybody but they came down slowly on these ‘chutes and they were nylon. So this cockney bloke, he’d learnt how to pull these ‘chutes out and cut them off [laughs], without them going off. So he got me cutting, pulling them out [laughter], and then he went off to London with boxes full of these bloody ‘chutes and sold them and came back with some money [laughter].
GC: [laughs]
LS: Well one day, this is where it happened, when I was walking the dog and I came across this building, I went inside there and there were these big [emphasis] things stacked up in one of the racks at the bottom, well, they were about that length and about that round and hanging out of one was part of a huge parachute. I thought, my God, I’m in here.
GC: [laughs]
LS: So of course, I pulled it out, and as I pulled it out, I heard the fuse go. So I ran like hell [emphasis] outside and the next thing, the bloody thing exploded, and the fire inside was just, all bullets were going off everywhere and we got a crash crew, two, and they were both bloody Irishmen [laughs], they were both Irishmen they were running this thing, and I ran all the way to this crash crew and got them out, and I said ‘Quick, there’s been an explosion’. They wouldn’t go anywhere near it. Well of course, I was the guilty party, so [laughs], so I grabbed the hose off them, went right up to the door with all these bullets, I didn’t feel anything, I didn’t feel fright, and I’m trying to squirt the hose in there, and there’s all these bullets going off. Had it been, what it was, there were two, when you, when the Lancasters went in, but these would have been from American Flying Fortresses, ‘cause it was an American base, you illuminate the target at night, A, if it’s a photograph that you wanted, it was the photo flash bomb that went off instantly, and the cameras were already aligned in the aircraft, so it took a picture either of the target or the damage that you’d done. That was the photo flash bomb, that was a big flash. But the photo flood bomb was on a parachute and that went off, but all it did was shoot the parachute out so that the bomb came down and was taking pictures on the way down. So they actually could take the, still, you know, it would be, sorry [unclear], otherwise my voice goes, might be a good thing [laughter]. So luckily for me, well, these two Irishmen, they still wouldn’t come anywhere near it, they were in the truck and I pulled the lead from the truck, anyway I went back to base, I never did see that spot again. But one day, two very official gentlemen came down to us while we were in Bomb Disposal, they were from the Air Ministry, they wanted to interview me. So, of course, I couldn’t tell them the true story, that I was helping this bloke go to London with this–– [laughter], I couldn’t tell them, so I denied it. Do you know, they interviewed me for two or three days, they came back and they said ‘Do you know why we’re back? Because we don’t think, we don’t know why, but we think you’re not telling the truth. Because there was no lives involved, and yet why did you risk your life to go and put the fire out?’ And they said ‘Why did you do it?’ And, in the end they, do you know, they came back two or three times, can’t remember how many times, but in the end, I said ‘Look, ok, there’s this guy here who’s got a market in London––’ and I told them the story [laughs]. No! No, I didn’t, no, I didn’t! Sorry [laughter], I never told them that, I couldn’t tell them that. I said ‘What had happened was I’d actually pulled the, I’d set it off accidentally’. I said ‘I did, I set it off accidentally’. So I was severely admonished, I never got any punishment at all, it would just go down as a severe admonishment, but, of course, had I told them the truth, which is wrong, I didn’t tell them the truth, it’s out there now [laughter], if two people arrive tomorrow, I’m going [laughter]. No, they really had a go at me, but anyway. Funny how Bomb Disposal was fun because you’re always on your own, you never, we had one officer and one sergeant, they promoted me to corporal because I was, had done what I’d done anyway, so I got some promotion, finished up as a corporal, at my second stage in the RAF. Erm, and there was probably six of us, I can’t remember how many, but certainly one of them was this guy from Walthamstow [laughs], was a right cockney. We used to come back with a few bob [laughter], and that was it really, I was eventually demobbed and that was the end of it.
GC: As I say, can you tell us a bit about Rhodesia, I know you trained out there. What was Rhodesia like at that time?
LS: Well, of course, Rhodesia in those days was very British. I mean, our nearest town was Bulawayo, we called it Bullafoo, I forgot my tea [sound of drinking]
GC: We’re alright as long as the house doesn’t fall down
LS: Um?
Unknown: What’s going on?
LS: I don’t know. I thought she was after Bailey. Oh, is it on?
GC: It’s alright
LS: Oh. So very British there, so Bulawayo, there were mostly black people, the local people in Bulawayo. But the first place I was at was Bulawayo, and then, when I changed onto the second grade of flying, it was called Salisbury, which was the capital of Rhodesia at that time. It’s now called Cranbourne, sorry, here comes my whistle in my chest––
GC: We’ll stop soon.
LS: Erm, it was called Salisbury. So I was actually stationed there. Would you pass me those, those, no the older books, next, no next one, yes both of them will do, Tom, thanks. So I was actually out in Rhodesia [book pages turning] when, these are personal photographs as well as the RAF photographs, I don’t think there’s anything to interest you. But look, there’s Salisbury on VE Day where I was. I’m told these photographs are worth a lot of money because nobody would have got those.
GC: Um
LS: So I was actually there when VE was declared, victory was declared, so we got involved in the celebrations in Salisbury, erm, and I remember buying those from somewhere or other.
GC: They look like, erm, they look really Colonial don’t they ‘cause––
LS: Yes.
GC: ––They are really.
LS: Oh, very much so.
GC: Yeah
LS: Well Rhodesia was very British, the whole of South Africa was, apart from the Dutch, the Dutch side of South Africa. There was the Dutch side, and then the British side, and the Dutch were very strong, of course, in South Africa and they still are. Lot of the South African people have got Dutch sounding names, but there were a lot of British, erm, British people there.
GC: Right.
LS: Erm, there were Dutch communities and British communities. But really, so it was mostly black people, the man who, the black man who looked after me was actually a Zulu, of course, they’re just a tribe, the Zulus, but he was a lovely man. He was a man who I could ask to do things when I was doing my flying at EFTS, which is the first one. erm, and he was, as I say, a Zulu, but I can’t really tell you a lot else about Rhodesia. It was very wild. You know, an amazing thing happened, I’m in hospital, about last Tuesday, and suddenly one of these black nurses came, she did something, I can’t remember, because I’ve got injections all over me where they were sticking these needles all over me, and all of a sudden, I saw Mombai written on her thing. I said ‘Are you from Mombai?’ so she said, ‘Yes’, I said ‘In Rhodesia?’ she said ‘Yes’. Now Mombai wasn’t even a village. Was there a problem?
GC: No.
LS: Oh, oh, this is while I was in hospital. I said, ‘I can’t believe this’, I said, ‘Are you from Mombai?’ she said, ‘Yes.’ I said, ‘Well, before your time, probably your parents’ time, there was an airfield very near to Mombai and we used to take off the aircraft and at night, when I took off, you could see the native fires burning, ‘cause they lived in huts. You know, you could actually see the fires burning, but incredibly, the chances of me meeting somebody from Mombai was incredible, wasn’t even a village there, it was just called Mombai.
GC: Wow.
LS: The nearest place we used to go to was Bulawayo, which was seventeen miles away. I used to walk that a few times too, I never had a bike, we used to walk it at night.
GC: Is there anything else you can think about, erm, when you was back in England at Metherington, any other stories of your crew or your ground crew, or…
LS: Well, erm, probably is, it’s just a question of remembering, because my time was so varied, more than most people. Erm, I didn’t know many of the ground crew, erm, I think most I know, I mean Bomber Command, they had their own ground crew for each aircraft, you know, and at our reunion we used to have some ground crew members came back, but I think the last one died last year. He was a very interesting man, he was an armourer and he would arm the planes. I used to hear stories from him, but I never met any, even when I was on the operational stations, I didn’t meet any ground crew really. They were probably there, I was only interested in other aircrew and so there’s not really a lot I can tell you, erm, I’d have to go deep into my deep down brain [laughs]
GC: Well I’ll tell you what, I’d like to say thank you very much
LS: Alright
GC: I’d like to say thank you to Lester, to Holly, to Tom and to Bailey, erm, and it’s been a pleasure to meet you this morning. Thank you very much.
LS: OK, you’re very welcome.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Interview with Lester Simms
Creator
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Gemma Clapton
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-08-07
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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ASimmsL160807
Format
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01:00:18 audio recording
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
Zimbabwe
England--Lincolnshire
Zimbabwe--Bulawayo
Zimbabwe--Harare
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943
Description
An account of the resource
Lester tells of his tough early childhood, and his first experience of seeing a Heinkel bomber flying over his home in Surrey to attack the Brooklands Aircraft Factory. He tells of how he worked in the experimental department of Hawker Aircraft Company, a department lead by Sydney Camm, who designed the Hurricane and the Typhoon. Lester also tells of helping to fit cannons under a Hurricane fighter. Lester joined the Royal Air Force at the age of 17 and a half, hoping to become a pilot. He was posted to 106 Squadron at RAF Metheringham, which was a Lancaster station, but he also worked with Halifaxes and Wellington Bombers. Whilst he was waiting for his pilot course - which eventually took place in Africa - he worked with the FIDO system, and his jobs also included filling holes in the runway and painting. Ernest also tells of his time as a crash vehicle driver, in the motor transport unit and his time working in bomb disposal. Ernest also involves himself in 106 Squadron reunions and correspondence, a job that he is very proud to be doing.
Contributor
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Vivienne Tincombe
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
106 Squadron
aircrew
bomb disposal
crash
FIDO
final resting place
ground personnel
Halifax
Hurricane
Lancaster
pilot
RAF Heaton Park
RAF Metheringham
training
Wellington
-
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601c2eed3763b0488e3dbe38e827c35b
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1150/11707/ASwaffieldJ171004.2.mp3
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Swaffield, James
J Swaffield
Description
An account of the resource
Four items. An oral history interview with Squadron Leader James Swaffield (b. 1925) his log book and photographs. He flew operations as a navigator with 44 and 106 Squadrons.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by James Swaffield and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-10-04
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Swaffield, J
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
CB: My name is Chris Brockbank and today is Tuesday, Wednesday, the 4th of October 2017 and we are in Maidenhead, talking to James Jim Swaffield, a navigator, about his experiences in the war and afterwards. But what are your earliest recollections of life, Jim? When you were young, what do you remember first?
JS: I don’t know
US: Do you remember where you lived?
JS: Yeah, I’m just trying to think
US: Where was it you lived, when were very young?
JS: What, in Chiswick?
US: Yeah, do you remember the road you lived in before you went to Bedford Park?
JS: Yes
US: Where was that?
JS: Just trying
US: It’s next to your school later, school you went to. I remember, it was Rivercourt Road
CB: Oh, was it, in Chiswick?
US: You know Chiswick?
CB: Yes, my grandparents live there
US: That’s where you lived, you were born, I think in a nursing home in Kensal Rise or somewhere like that but that’s where you lived in Rivercourt Road before you went, Jim lived in Bedford Park. Do you know Bedford Park?
CB: I don’t know. Then he went to Bedford Park, right.
US: They went, when he was quite young, to Bedford Park
JS: My father had an MC
CB: Did he?
JS: Yeah. In the First World War, which I suppose would’ve made certain things different from an ordinary person, you know, he was a Military Cross
US: He never told us why he got it, did he?
JS: Mh?
US: He never told us why he got it, we only found out by chance a couple of years ago
JS: No, he wasn’t
US: No. What did your dad do?
JS: What did he do?
US: What was his work?
JS: Well, he went to, oh, what’s it now?
US: Smithfield
JS: Mh?
US: Smithfield
JS: Yes?
US: He was a manager at Smithfield Meat Market, wasn’t he?
JS: Yeah, I
US: He used to get up and go to work at about half past two in the morning, didn’t he?
JS: Something like that, yeah. He definitely had an MC,
US: Yeah.
JS: I suppose years and years back, no he wouldn’t [unclear], I think he got married at the end of the First World War, no, and he went
US: He was later getting married, where did he go at the end of the First World War, when he was still in the army, do you remember?
JS: I think so, yes
US: Where was it, he was
JS: Yeah
US: [unclear] there lot,
JS: Yeah
US: Do you remember where?
JS: Oh
US: Was it Mesopotamia, wasn’t it?
JS: Mh?
US: [clears throat] It was in Mesopotamia he went on after the war? He was still in the army and he went out to the Middle East, didn’t he? He was very rude about it, do you remember?
JS: I think, yeah, I think, these things are there I think
US2: Iraq, which one?
CB: Say more about him.
JS: Oh goodness, very early getting up in the morning, I know, to go to
US: Smithfield
JS: Yeah. What was it now?
CB: [unclear]
JS: No, not really, no, go to Piccadilly, I went to a few of those, you know, saw him at Christmas for a time perhaps, something like that but, you knew him, didn’t you?
US: Yes, I knew him, quite a while
JS: And, I’d have to look and see and find anything
CB: Sure, sure, we’ll stop just a minute.
JS: Yeah, went to school at Latymer, yeah
US: Latymer Upper
JS: Yeah, Upper Latymer
US: Or Upper Latymer. Where was that school, do you remember?
JS: Mh?
US: Where was the school?
JS: In Hammersmith
US: That’s right
JS: Used to walk from Chiswick to Hammersmith. You remember all that [unclear]?
US: Well, yeah
JS: Yeah, yeah
CB: It was a good school, was it?
JS: At Latymer?
CB: Yeah
JS: Latymer Upper School, good school
CB: What about your friends? Goods friends at school, were there?
JS: Not necessarily
US: Oh! What about Ron and Alan and [unclear] the man Ron, Alan?
JS: Well, you had things like, I think, military things [unclear] you know, all [unclear] were introduced to that, yeah
CB: Because it was an upper school,
JS: Mh?
CB: Because it was an upper school it will have had the equivalent of the Combined Cadet Force, so there was training, wasn’t there?
JS: Oh, I think that
CB: Military training at school
JS: Yes, in Hammersmith, yes, I think so
CB: And what age did you leave school?
JS: Oh, quite early, I think, about sixteen, I don’t, I’m not really certain, sixteen or seventeen, I’m not absolutely certain,
US: Fifteen
JS: I found out why
CB: Yes
JS: Will be in the book there
CB: Ok
JS: It might have been in, written in
CB: But what did you do when you left school?
JS: What did I leave school? I can’t remember that
US: [unclear] his memory because
JS: Yes
CB: Yes
US: [unclear] find interesting then, you used to work up in, I think it was up in the Haymarket or something like that and you said you used to cycle up every day after the Blitz through all the damage, they were still clearing up, from the air raids
JS: I don’t know, could be
US: Do you remember?
JS: Could be, yeah
US: I know you told me that
JS: Yes
US: Think he worked in an office of some kind
JS: Yeah
US: It’s fascinating cause he said he used to ride to work
JS: Yes
US: Immediately after the bombing you
CB: Right
US: And there’d be, you know, all the rubbish over the roads and [unclear] still clearing up
CB: When the war started, you were aged fourteen
JS: Yes, about that
CB: And school leaving age in those days was fourteen but at some schools, grammar schools and so on, people stayed on longer, age fifteen or sixteen
JB: I have to look
CB: And you couldn’t go into the forces at that age, so people took a job and from what Diana just said, it sounds as though you had this job in Haymarket
JS: Could be, yes, could be that, could be that
CB: Now, did you join the Air Training Corps in those days? What made you interested in aeroplanes?
JS: Yes. Well I think, I really think of as army, I think I would put that in and I don’t think that, well, he was perhaps a bit too old at that time to actually join the Air Force but I, can’t think of him being all that interested in, I mean, he was in the army I think for the whole time of the war going but that was before my time
CB: Yeah
JS: Nearly
CB: The First War, yeah, so we are now going fast forward to the beginning of World War Two, September ’39,
JS: Yeah
CB: You are at that time, you were born in 1924, you are fourteen
JS: Yes
CB: You can’t leave school till you’re
JS: Yes
CB: Well, you can leave it about that age, but did you stay on a bit?
JS: Yeah
CB: But, clearly you had a job for a while
JS: Yeah. But he got the MC
CB: Yes
JS: The Military Cross
CB: Yes, so he didn’t go back in again for the second war, into the army, did he? But you did go into the Air Force
JS: I don’t know how, do you know?
US: I think he was probably a bit old and he probably wasn’t that good, he had a bad chest [unclear] taken him anyway, I can’t think how old he would have been, died when he was seventeen, at about sixty three
JS: Yeah
US: [unclear] how old he would have been
CB: Well, he would have been close on fifty, so they wouldn’t have taken him in but in your case, you had this job, what made you join the RAF?
JS: The RAF, yeah
CB: Who did you know in your family who had already joined the forces?
JS: Well, my father of course
CB: Yeah
JS: And his brother. Do you remember him?
US: No, we are talking about you going into the Air Force, what made you decide
JS: To
US: To go in the Air Force? Who did you know who was already in the Air Force?
JS: Well, I was in the Air Force
US: Yeah, but you had a cousin, didn’t you, who was in, who gave you some advice, who was it? Do you
JS: I could, I think I could, given a bit of time
CB: Look it up, Yes, but doesn’t matter, it’s just a recall.
JS: Yeah
CB: So, Diana, who was the cousin?
US: Don, do you remember Don, your cousin Don?
JS: Yes
US: He was a Pathfinder
JS: Yes
US: Do you remember him? Cause he would’ve had some influence I think, cause he was in two or three years before you
JS: Yeah
US: And he did ninety tours and DFC and Bar, didn’t he? Do you remember Don?
JS: Yes
US: Did he talk to you?
JS: I’d have to think about it.
CB: Ok
JS: So let’s go back a bit
CB: So, was he a pilot or a navigator?
US: He was a navigator
CB: Right, on Mosquitoes
US: No, in Lancasters
CB: In Lancasters
US: He was in Lancasters, too. That’s why Harry was in the Pathfinders, in Lancasters
CB: Yeah, ok, right. So, why did you join the RAF at a junior age? You joined when you were seventeen, didn’t you?
JS: Yes
CB: How did you get away with that?
JS: With?
CB: How did you get away with joining the RAF at seventeen underage?
JS: I can’t at the, I can’t
CB: According, interestingly
JS: Could be in the book
CB: According to your logbook
JS: Yes
CB: You were a navigator
JS: Yes
CB: According to your logbook, you started your navigator training on the 14th of September 1942
JS: Yes
CB: That’s when you were age seventeen
JS: Yes
CB: And three months, that was one year too young [laughs],
JS: Yes
CB: So you must have joined the RAF a bit before then because you would’ve had to do your initial training
JS: Yes
CB: Before you did navigator training, using your logbook as the date in there
JS: Right, yeah
CB: So, where did you do your navigator training?
JS: Where did I do that?
CB: Yes
JS: That’s a good point, so that’s a good point, yeah. Oh, I got a vague remembrance of it, but I can’t tell you that much about it
CB: Ok, your logbook says, number 7 AOS but it doesn’t say where that is,
JS: Yes
CB: But we will look that up and
US: [unclear] go abroad sometimes to do it
CB: Yes, so it could be Canada
US: No, it’s in Northern Ireland,
CB: Oh, was it? [laughs]
US: He wasn’t lucky enough to go anywhere nice [laughs]
JS: Where did I go?
US: You were in Northern Ireland
CB: So that was actually at Bishops Court
JS: Yeah
CB: Excuse Northern Ireland,
JS: Yeah
CB: I just looked at the front of the book
JS: We went to America, didn’t we?
US: No, I haven’t been to America, you went briefly on business. Now that’s something quite different
CB: Right
JS: Oh, right
US: We’re talking about, do you remember going to Northern Ireland? Cause I think Don went to Canada, but you got lumbered with Northern Ireland
JS: Ah yes, yes, I have some remembrance of that, ah, yeah, sorry, can’t,
CB: You were there for fifteen months, doing your navigation training, according to your logbook
JS: Yeah, I think that’s probably so, yeah, I think, yes, goodness. Where do we got to after that?
US: Got nothing to do with me,
JS: Mh?
US: Nothing to do with me, I wasn’t there
CB: Then, according to your logbook, you then went to Operational Training Unit number 14 which was Husband’s Bosworth
US: Yes
CB: And Market Harborough
JS: Yes
CB: So there, you would be flying on the Wellington
JS: Yes, I can tell you some of these things, given time and, you know
CB: When you’re sitting in your bath tonight, you’ll remember all of it
JS: Yes, that’s, yeah [laughs]
CB: So, you’re at the Operational Training Unit for seven months
JS: Yes
CB: So we’re now July ’44
JS: Yes
CB: And it now says that you went to 106 and 44 Squadrons, that was unusual for people to hop straight from the OTU to a squadron
JS: Yes
CB: Because it needed to go through the Heavy Conversion Unit
JS: Oh yes
CB: But that might be what 106 was
JS: Yes
CB: And so you were there
JS: Yeah, we went together
US: Not this time, no, this is before, I was a child when you were doing your [unclear]
JS: When we were out in, oh, where was it first of all?
US: Khartoum
JS: Yeah. Where were we now?
US: [unclear] us, the first one was Khartoum
JS: Yeah
US: And you were in the Canal Zone
CB: And that’s when you re-joined, wasn’t it?
JS: Yeah
US: Yeah
CB: So if we go fast backwards,
JS: Yeah
CB: Your Operational Training Unit, then you joined 44 Squadron for your ops
JS: Yes
CB: And you joined 44 Squadron, where was that? Do you remember?
JS: 44
CB: At Dunholme Lodge?
US: Just looking at [unclear], we found it once
JS: Yes, we, let me think now
CB: Well, after the, I’ll tell you what it is, that in your logbook it gives the answer here, that you did got to 1661 Heavy Conversion Unit
JS: Yeah
CB: Before going to the squadron and so you did that in May 1944 and from there and you flew the Stirling there,
JS: Yeah
CB: The Heavy Conversion Unit and you left there a month later at the end of June and then you went to, according to this, number 4 LFS, which is the Lancaster Finishing School, so what people did was to go to an HCU on Stirlings and then convert to Lancasters on the Lancaster Finishing School, which then took you, which was Swinderby, took you to 106 Squadron
JS: Oh yeah
CB: Flying Lancasters
JS: Oh yeah
CB: Which was July ’44, just after D-Day
JS: Yea
CB: So you were on ops
JS: Yeah
CB: Just after D-Day, weren’t you?
JS: Yeah
CB: And
JS: Yeah
CB: Actually, your first op here was to Kiel
JS: Yes
CB: On, with 106 Squadron
JS: I can’t remember Lancaster moving from the chair
CB: Yes
JS: I’ll have to have a look and see the gip, the pilot was getting on, you know, in the front and I can remember that very well. There’s something else that, he felt it was awful laying in the front of the, we are talking about Lancaster, I think?
CB: Yes
JS: In the front, he, just weird things do come back sometimes, well, I can’t [unclear] what went with that, oh goodness me!
CB: Why did you get up and why did he go to the front?
JS: I think she remembers a lot of these things
US: Well, you told me he used to say to you when you were over the target
JS: Yeah
US: Would you like to come up and see? And you went up to see, you know, fires and everything
JS: Yeah
US: And but Jim said, I didn’t want to go up and see, I just wanted to get the hell out of there [laughs], those were his words, so he, you know, he wasn’t interested in that, he just wanted to go home
JS: Yeah
US: Do you remember the story you told me about the tail of the Lancaster just under you, do you remember that story? By the Lancaster that was above you in formation and there was one just below? [doorbell rings] Do you remember what happened?
JS: Sounds like
US: Oh, don’t get me really, do you remember what happened? What you told me happened?
JS: No, can’t remember
US: Like the bomb from the other Lancaster?
CB: What did it do?
US: It came down and took the tail right off of one flying below, that [unclear] going up [unclear]
CB: What other things do you remember?
JS: I was thinking, getting closer to,
CB: When you were waiting to go on an operation, before you took off, what were you doing?
JS: Doing?
CB: Before you got on to an operation
JS: Yeah
CB: What did you do?
JS: Yeah. Well, if I was the navigator, it would be taking your, [laughs] your newspaper with you or something of that sort, you know, but you’d find something that would be quite good, you know, and what else was there? [unclear] the thing, you know, in some book or something for hand over to the bosses but
US: Oh dear, sorry, I
JS: But we have to go back, I could say to you now that, given some a bit of time, I could give you a lot of
CB: Ok.
JS: Times
CB: Alright, we can do that later.
JS: Right
CB: So, we can just pick up some bits now
JS: Yeah
CB: And then go over some detail later
JS: Yes
US: I’m fascinated that you know the experiment of the crew on that plane cause I always wondered whether they survived that
CB: Well, the gunner of course didn’t
US: Below it went
CB: Cause it took the whole of the turret out
US: Out
CB: Yeah
US: Now, I often wondered, did they crash-land or just parachute?
CB: I’ll tell you later. Well, the plane flew on
US: It did? Gosh! I’m surprised
CB: What other things do you remember about preparing for a flight?
JS: Preparing for a flight
CB: For an operation
JS: For an operation
CB: What do you remember about that? I mean, you went to a briefing, didn’t you? All the crews went together in the briefing. So, the map was on the wall
JS: Yes
CB: And this is the briefing for tonight
JS: Yeah
CB: What do you remember about that? So, there is this huge map of the continent with Britain
JS: Yeah
CB: And it shows the route of the raid with the diversions
JS: Yes
CB: But you had to prepare as the navigator
JS: Yes
CB: With the pilot
JS: Yeah
CB: You had to prepare for the operation. What of you remember about that?
JS: I can’t think of that, really
CB: Because you were given a bombing time, you were given a bombing time and you had to work out your route to get there
JS: Yes, could be, yeah
CB: We’ll stop there for a mo. At the OTU?
JS: Yeah, Piccadilly,
CB: But this would’ve been, this was number 29 OTU and you were clearly a navigator instructor
JS: Yes
CB: There
JS: Yeah
CB: What were you doing, do you remember?
JS: [laughs] You got the final
CB: You were newly commissioned at that stage as a pilot officer
JS: Yes
CB: And you’d done four hundred and fifty hours of flying in total? Of which two hundred and thirty-seven were at night. I’m stopping again. You, does any particular raid?
JS: [unclear] of the, [unclear]
CB: So, when you got on ops
JS: In Piccadilly?
CB: No, when you were on operations in your Lancaster
JS: Yes
CB: What was the most memorable operational flight that you did, would you say?
JS: No, I can’t really
CB: If I show you this, you can see there your early operations there
JS: See what they say, yeah
CB: What does that remind you?
JS: Yeah. Let me see, navigation, navigator, navigator
CB: Cause you’re always the navigator
JS: Navigator, yeah
CB: But the target
JS: Right, the target
CB: Is in red. The whole, the night operations there are all in red
JS: Ah! Operations
CB: So, your first op was on Kiel
JS: Operations, operation again, two three
CB: So what does that remind you?
JS: Underlined by Kiev
CB: Kiel
JS: Kiel, St [unclear]
CB: In France
JS: And Givaux
CB: Also in France
JS: Up to then
CB: So, you did your thirty ops and then you were rested at an Operational Conversion Unit. What do you remember about working there?
JS: Going to
CB: To the Operational Conversion Unit after you left the squadron, 44 Squadron, what do you remember about that?
JS: Can’t remember at the moment
CB: Ok. Now the war finished in Europe on the 8th of May 1945
JS: Yes
CB: What do you remember about the celebrations and the feeling at the end of the war?
JS: I can’t remember it
CB: For some people, they got caught up in the celebrations, others were just on the station
JS: Yes
CB: And work continued as usual
JS: Yes
CB: So
JS: This is, this is, what time?
CB: So, we are talking about May 1945,
JS: Yeah
CB: Was the end of the war in Europe
JS: Yeah
CB: When you were in the Lancaster, 106 squadron and 44, it was the same crew, was it? What do you remember about your crew?
JS: I can’t remember it.
CB: Did you keep in touch?
JS: Mh?
CB: Did you keep in touch with any of your crew after you ended operations and after the war?
JS: Something comes into [unclear], Kensington, Hammersmith, these are places thinking, you know, areas
CB: In your mind, yes
JS: Yeah. Areas of where I might have been
CB: Your family was living there, wasn’t it? Do you remember what the effect on your family was of the V weapons, V-1 and V-2?
JS: The
CB: V-1s and V-2s? What effect did that have on your family? Because they were in the Chiswick, Hammersmith, Kensington area, weren’t they?
JS: Yeah. No, it’s, I can’t remember it,
CB: So, according to the detail that we’ve got, you left the RAF
JS: Yes
CB: In 1947
JS: Ah!
CB: And then you went to work for who?
JS: That could be so of course
CB: You went to work for Joe Lyons
JS: Go to
CB: Joe Lyons
JS: Joe, oh yeah, yeah
CB: What did you do at Lyons?
JS: Lyons, I was with them earlier on, Lyons, yeah, that could be, I had a job with Lyons
CB: Did you do catering before you left the RAF, is that how you came to them?
JS: Before
CB: Did you volunteer to be a catering officer?
JS: Yeah
CB: Before you left the RAF?
JS: It could be, it could be
CB: So, then you went to Joe Lyons in ’47 and you worked with them till ’51
JS: Yeah
CB: When you re-joined the RAF. What was the initiative to do that?
JS: I, yeah, I couldn’t remember this somehow, Piccadilly, Hyde Park, the area, you know, I could be in
CB: Well, there was a J. Lyons in the Strand, wasn’t there?
JS: Yeah, Strand, yes, that’s, yeah.
CB: And something prompted you to re-join the RAF
JS: It could be so, [laughs] I can’t, can’t remember
CB: Ok.
JS: No.
CB: We will pause there
JS: Yeah.
CB: Cause you, you ran the RAF Club from ’76 to ‘91
JS: There could be, that could be something, yeah, could be something
CB: I remember you there
JS: Good to have you here, you know [laughs]? where, was I married by then?
CB: You were, you were, yes
JS: Yeah
CB: What were you doing when you were working at the RAF club?
JS: Ah, that’s a good point, yeah, there’s a lot of [unclear], lot of [unclear] for [unclear], again, I’m not sure on
CB: What was the condition of the RAF club when you became the general manager?
JS: Yeah
CB: What was it like to walk into?
JS: I’ll try and find your book
CB: Was it dingy? It was dingy, rundown
JS: Yeah
CB: And what did you do to change that?
JS: Yeah. I can’t think
CB: You completely transformed the RAF club
JS: I, likely, yes, likely, yeah. Yes, I remember now, I think of the wife, I think I became settled at that time. My goodness, yes. No, I can’t think of much more, it was a base that I could see some very highly, highly rated people, you know, or some youngster, you know, but it was quite a good job, quite a good job, that I enjoyed. I’ll find you some of this, you know
CB: Do
JS: Give me some time after
CB: Yes. Ok.
JS: It’s. I think, I moved out to here, you know, on this organisation, cause I can’t remember much else between that. I, yes, if I look back army and navy don’t to mind to, to look at all, look at the form, I think I was, for now I take a lot of, looking upstairs and saying who is there? I couldn’t, can really pull you off, you know, ideas and what have you. I love to watch the aeroplane going across there
CB: From your house
JS: [unclear] but I, on the other hand, there is not much I can go into, you know, do something but, I was, I was carefully [unclear] with that
CB: Of course, when you were working for Trusthouse Forte, after you left the RAF on the second occasion,
JS. Yeah
CB: You were the director of airport division, weren’t you?
JS: Yes, [unclear]
CB: And then you moved to the RAF Club
JS: Maybe the one, yeah
CB: So you’ve always maintained your fascination with aeroplanes
JS: Yes, oh yeah, yes, yeah
CB: What’s the thing in your mind that stands out most about your career? What do you remember?
JS: We could do that in this area, you know, on occasions, not so much now as was but we, even now, we are doing something in this area, yeah
CB: Well, Jim, thank you very much for talking
JS: Well, I tried
CB: We’ll catch up with more later I think. Thank you
JS: It’s, you could come back and say that I didn’t say [laughs], or it didn’t sound very, you know, and to some extent, it doesn’t. I sit in this area
CB: Yes
JS: Area, small
CB: Your little extension here
JS: Have a look through there often
CB: Through the French windows, yes
JS: Yeah
CB: Well, it’s a lovely garden, isn’t it?
JS: Yes, we, no, I mean, we like this place, but it’s, we run it pretty carefully,
CB: I think it’s very nice
JS: Yeah. We are looking at the moment, course of coming back, in the jobs [unclear] or something, odd things, you know, before but we’re quite happy in this place
CB: I can imagine, it’s very nice
JS: Yeah
CB: And at ninety-two, you deserve a quiet time
JS: Yes [laughs], yes. But the wife knows a lot of things
CB: Yes, well, you’ve told her over the years
JS: Yeah
CB: So, we’ll pick up on those later
JS: Yeah, that’s right
CB: Yes
JS: Yeah
CB: Good
JS: Her views could be different to my views in some areas but yes, she thinks things of certain things I think but there’s a changing over at this moment in time. We have very definitely, I think, we would be more adjusted to this place of we have behind us, you know, with the, the water clubs, here, with clubs in, have you seen the back of the area here?
CB: The back there, yes, yes
JS: Yeah, I said, that’s the area we got here
GB: Now we are looking here at a picture here
JS: Yes
CB: Of you with Diana
JS: Yes
CB: I can’t see your rank at the time but what’s that bring back to you?
JS: That’s right, I’m a navigator
CB: Yes
JS: Yeah, there
CB: In your number 1 uniform, in your number 1
JS: That’s right, yes, that’s her. Does she say that is?
CB: Yes
JS: She does, that’s right. Yeah, that’s it.
CB: Right,
JS: Yeah
CB: Thank you Jim.
JS: Navigator
US2: Busy
JS: Yeah
US2: Yeah
JS: Well, oh yes, sometime, you know, using that or calling somebody else into help
US2: Yeah
JS: And the other but, no, I think I enjoyed that, or, didn’t disenjoy it, Lancaster I think it is, the Lancaster I think but, yeah. I’ve been up occasionally since and it has been, you know, good to get up and go in and see what was you did and what happened to you like and there we are
CB: How did you feel about the bombing? How did you feel about doing the bombing raids?
JS: Sorry?
CB: What did you think about doing the bombing raids?
JS: The bombing ring?
CB: When you were on operations, what did you think about it?
JS: I don’t feel, I don’t feel cheerless about it or you know what have you, but I think I did a couple of main courses and no, I think, I quite used it, quite, quite enjoyed it a long time ago
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Interview with James Swaffield
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Chris Brockbank
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IBCC Digital Archive
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2017-10-04
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
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Sound
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ASwaffieldJ171004, PSwaffieldJ1703
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00:52:00 audio recording
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eng
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Royal Air Force
Description
An account of the resource
James Swaffield was born and grew up in West London and flew as a navigator in the RAF. He discusses with the interviewer his life before, during and after the war. Highlights include: remembering his father, who served during the First World War and was awarded a Military Cross; his cousin Don flew ninety ops as a navigator and was awarded a DFC and bar; he joined the RAF at seventeen; started his training on the 14th of September 1942 at 7 AOS at RAF Bishops Court, in Northern Ireland, where he spent fifteen months; in July 1944 was posted to 106 Squadron, where his first operation was to Kiel; was posted to 44 Squadron; discusses the briefing before operations; left the RAF in 1947 and went to work in the catering industry, before running the RAF Club from 1976 to 1991.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Peter Schulze
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
Northern Ireland--Down (County)
Great Britain
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943
1944
1945
106 Squadron
14 OTU
1661 HCU
44 Squadron
Air Observers School
aircrew
bombing
Distinguished Flying Cross
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
Military Cross
navigator
Operational Training Unit
RAF Bishops Court
RAF Husbands Bosworth
RAF Market Harborough
RAF Swinderby
training
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2468/11768/AWhymarkR171103.mp3
d15b6bbb5d4a4b59a1d617d0068cd018
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
Whymark, Jack
John Percy Whymark
Description
An account of the resource
X items. <br /><br />The collection concerns Flight Lieutenant Jack Whymark DSO DFC (1920 -1945, 616289, 53481 Royal Air Force) and contains a<span>n oral history with his son, Robert Whymark. </span><br /><br />He flew operations as an air gunner with 103 Squadron and was killed 04 October 1945 during Operation Dodge. <br /><br />The collection was donated to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Graham Thurlow and Robert Whymark and catalogued by Lynn Corrigan. <br /><br /><span>Additional information on Jack Whymark is available via the </span><a href="https://losses.internationalbcc.co.uk/loss/230288/">IBCC Losses Database.</a>
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-11-03
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
Whymark, JP
Requires
A related resource that is required by the described resource to support its function, delivery, or coherence.
[his log book, correspondence, documents, objects and photographs].
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
RM: Tactical.
JM: Right. This interview is being conducted for the International Bomber Command Centre. The interviewer is Julian Maslin and the interviewee is Mr Robert Whymark. And the interview is taking place at Mr Whymark’s home in Little Haywood in Staffordshire on the 3rd of November 2017. Robert, could you please tell us a little bit about your background and your awareness of your late father’s service.
RW: Right. Thank you, Julian. Very firstly my thanks to the IBCC for this opportunity and all the volunteers that are doing the work. I’m Bob Whymark. Only son of Jack, or John as he was christened. He was also known as Johnny. Flight Lieutenant John Percy, but we don’t talk about that, Whymark DSO DFC RAF. He was an air gunner. Robert is a name slightly out of the family tradition. I’m not sure where that come from. I don’t know of any others but the surname is originally Breton I’m told. We could claim 1066 and all that if we did the connection. There was a Robert de Whymark who was the Sheriff of Southend in 1086. They say everybody’s descended from a royal so we might be Harold the III’s lot. He was a big friend of William the Conqueror. However, more realistically we are immediately down from a load of farm labourers in Norfolk and Essex. I’ve gone back about mid-1700s. My dad’s father went to school with my other gran, my mother’s mother in the1890s in the village. My dad was born 10th of January 1920 in Grays, Essex. He had a sister nine years younger. He seems to have been quite bright because he got a scholarship to Palmer’s Boys College for secondary education. His first job was at the Bata Shoe Factory in Tilbury which was seven miles each way on a push bike. Rain or shine. Character building as we called it. He joined the Royal Artillery Territorials when he was fifteen, 1935 to ’38. And then he went into the Air Force in October of ’38 as a ground crew mechanic armourer. He went to St Athan for a mech’s course. I followed twenty-six years later in 1964. His first posting was 17 Squadron Hurricanes at Debden and Martlesham Heath. He was also on the Allied Air Strike Force in North West France, Le Mans, Channel Islands. The same time as Dunkirk was going on. He had to burn the Hurricanes as they French wouldn’t give us any fuel. He was evacuated in July 1940 and went air gunner for safety reasons as he told my mother. He’d gone to school with my mother. They had boys and girls separate schools with a fence between them of course. His best friend was somebody called Mervyn who married Eve who was my wife- my mother’s best friend. There’s more on that at the end of this tale. So, he went aircrew. Evanton in the Cromarty Firth was an air gunner’s training place and Salisbury Plain. There were two areas there. Twenty-four hours of flying time later he was put on first tour with 149 Squadron at RAF Mildenhall. December ’40 to April ’41. He was a Wellington rear gunner. He did fifteen ops from December to March over Europe. The first five all ended in some sort of tears. One with two crash landings, one shot up by anti-aircraft fire and two diversions for fuel. Then there was an outbreak of peace until operation number fifteen over Cologne where they were coned in searchlights for six minutes. I spoke to a guy who’d been coned at twenty thousand feet for about four and he said he’d never felt so helpless in all his life. After that 148 Squadron was formed in Kibrit which is on the Suez Canal. They also went to Malta. This again was on Wellingtons. April to September ’41, he did two hundred hours for a tour so that ended up as thirty-nine ops. He did twenty-four ops in North Africa. A lot of Benghazi’s and Malta in the thick of their bombing. They were actually bombed by a Junkers 88 on landing and ran off into the quarry which snapped the Wellington in half. People who know how they are built, which is rather like the Forth Bridge know that was quite an achievement. They also discovered when they got back one time that a shell had gone through the fuselage side to side. Didn’t explode of course. Nobody noticed. He then came home by troop ship from Suez, stopping off at Aden, Durban and Trinidad. He then had about two hundred hours of instructing duties at RAF Manby and West Freugh near Stranraer February ‘42 until October ’43. This was while the Battle of Berlin was on so he may have been rested from that or else I wouldn’t have been here. He did have one off operation mid-way November ’42. They used to take training troops and boost up the number of crews for some raids. He was detached to RAF Syerston, 106 Squadron. There was an American pilot who’d come up through Canada and over, Joe [Curtin?] He had a DFC from his first op which was while he was on pilot training. They’d been hit by a phosphorous shell in the cockpit and it blinded him for a while. The flight engineer kept it going and then he landed it. He got another DFC later on before he was killed. This was Guy Gibson’s squadron before the Dam Busters. Their op was to Danzig. Or Gdansk Harbour. It was ten hours fifty-five minutes in November of ’42 as a rear gunner. He went into Leconfield for fuel. So, it was fairly tight because it was only twenty minutes hop over to Syerston, between Newark and Nottingham. Back to West Freugh. Promoted to warrant officer and then at the end of that was commissioned. His second tour was from February ’44 to May ’44. Quite quick. 10 squadron- 101 squadron, sorry. RAF Ludford or Mudford as it was called, Magna. He did twenty ops in less than three months. The last one was his number sixty, the night I was born, 20th of May ‘44. He got a DFC for this tour. The first one was to Leipzig and there were seventy-nine aircraft missing which is about three hundred and fifty-three men, I think. No. Four hundred and fifty-three, I beg your pardon. He then flew in DV290 Lancaster five times. Once to Berlin, seventy-three aircraft were lost then which is four hundred and seventy-five people. The same, same as Afghanistan over fifteen years. Now, while those deaths were obviously terrible it does give a perceptive. Four hundred and seventy-five in less than eight hours. The Nuremberg raid — he should have been killed twice on that — ninety-seven aircraft were lost including the photo Mosquito the next day, plus eleven that crashed in UK on recovery. So, about six hundred and fifty people there. He’d flown in DV290 so many times he wrote it down again for that raid. It crashed at Welford near Newbury. They were all killed. Over the target they were nearly hit by a Halifax on its bombing run. He had to side slip. He also had a do at Aulnoy which was a railway yards in North East France. They were coned for nine minutes at six thousand feet with, “accurate flak” as he put it. A night fighter pilot got seven aircraft in two sessions there. He was cruising the searchlights. When the ack-ack stopped our crews knew that night fighters would come in. He must have been down refuelling when they were in the lights. Nobody knows how they got away with that. Another tactic the night fighters did was to attack the mid-upper gunner first as he couldn’t help the rear gunner. They did say that the rear gunner was the loneliest job in the aircraft, and I’m sure it was, but the mid-upper wasn’t that mid, it was quite well back and he could fire backwards. So, they took him out first if they could. The only time he’s recorded attacking anything was at over Schweinfurt where they were attacked by a Junkers 88. He said he fired three hundred and eighty rounds and hits on the fuselage. He didn’t claim anything and they were damaged by flak. He then did a gunnery leader’s course. And then third tour, which nobody could make you do, was from September ’44 to October ’45. That was on 103 Squadron at RAF Elsham Wolds. The main runway is now the slip road up to the Humber Bridge. It’s almost all Severn Trent Water. A heavy gravel type company operates on the main field and there’s a big industrial estate. One hangar is left. The big one. They can’t get that down. He was a mid-upper gunner on all of these trips. He was gunnery leader so he didn’t have a dedicated crew but was still busy. He started daylight ops then as well. He did a few Manna, Exodus and Dodge operations. That was dropping food to the Dutch, Exodus was re-pat of prisoners of war and Dodge was bringing people back from Italy. He did eighty-one ops but as he was grounded in January by the big boss he didn’t record all of them. Two or three veterans I’ve spoken to have said he was probably up to ninety-five or ninety-seven. His DSO citation says that he flew with weak or disturbed crews. Not a good idea I don’t think. There was a Canadian crew. [ Sachs?] was his name. It doesn’t say whether they were weak or not but he flew with him six times on the trot. Then he changed crews and they both went off to Dessau near Berlin and Sachs was shot down. His DSO for this tour was one of eight hundred and seventy to the RAF. As he was not a captain it was very rare, if not unique for a flight lieutenant to get that medal. Probably the leadership element came from his appointment as gunnery leader. He was then killed October, yeah October the 4th of 1945. This was a Dodge operation. He and the pilot were going mental doing admin, the pilot said. I’ve got a letter from him to his nephew. They picked up nineteen women passengers at Glatton or Honington, Peterborough Airport now. It was a filthy night. Many aircraft turned back to Istres, Marseilles, as did they after an electric storm and engine trouble, they radioed. I’ve spoken to crew members on this operation and they confirmed the weather. I’ve spoken to the navigator of the other aircraft that was with them and they were the last to talk to the aircraft. They were posted missing. Nothing was ever found. Six crew, seventeen ATS and two nurses were lost. A week before, twenty-five passengers, male, had been, went missing. Same area — plus a crew of six of course — same weather conditions. And a month later the same numbers. So, three Lancasters, ninety odd people all vanished within six weeks. No trace of any of them ever found. One of the girls was a Lance Corporal May Mann. She was engaged to a Warrant Officer Basil Henderson who was on General Alexander’s staff. And this is where Mervyn comes back in. He was waiting in Naples, Pomigliano for my dad. Basil was waiting for his fiancé. Basil had been the filter warrant officer for General Alexander’s staff and Mervyn had spent the whole of the North African Campaign trying to get past him. Basil eventually met my mother through correspondence over this accident and they got married in 1948. I was four. I remember Mervyn turning up, took one look at Basil, he spoke just like Lionel Jeffries, and he said, ‘Oh gawd,’ he said, ‘I don’t suppose you’d let me in here either.’ That’s my first memory. That’s the family link if you like. Basil died in 2008, my mother in 2014. My dad of course, when he was twenty-five. He would have been ninety-eight in January. I’ve been through his logbook, I think he should have been killed about thirty-seven times properly. All raids were difficult, in fact even flying was because of crude navigation equipment — not the navigators — technical problems, maintenance was difficult, weather, and they used to say, lastly, the enemy. But he had some scrapes and lucky escapes by changing crews or aircraft or what have you. They say that for every one hundred aircrew, fifty-one were killed on ops, nine were killed in UK training type crashes, three were seriously injured, twelve were POWs, twenty-four survived. Now, if you’re very sad you’ll have totted that up to ninety-nine. I can only assume that the one spare bloke went AWOL or something like that. However, that’s the basics of his story. I — all I know is that I have no memories of him. Luckily, he met me. I know many people who were killed, their fathers were killed before they were born etcetera. So, we had a little bit more than they did.
JM: Thank you. Thank you very much.
RW: Alright. That was —
JM: Was, was your decision to join the air force in any way influenced by your father’s career?
RW: Yes. About fifty percent. I was at grammar school. I did two years in the fifth form to achieve four GCSEs. Mainly because of these guitars we’ve been talking about and I was trying to be Eddie Cochrane really, and I missed any sort of technical training. I was too old for an apprenticeship. I had a couple of years at the telephone manager’s office, telephone engineering, and then went in the Air Force as much for the education as my dad. But certainly, that was that. My stepfather had no problems about talking to me about it. He said — I remember him when I was four saying to me, ‘I want to marry your mother but I’m not going to make you change your name because of your dad.’ Well, I didn’t know anything about him then of course. But I found out later on. Mervyn, my dad’s best friend from school was a big help. He tidied up some puzzlement I had about this last accident because my mother had the idea that my dad had been pulled out of bed because somebody had broken their leg playing football or something. Well, he’d obviously had time to arrange it. In fact, they were all up at Brigg on the Monday. On the weekend before they had a big dance, probably for VJ-Day. She was up in Brigg, stayed probably at the White Hart. They all piled off back on Monday morning. He telephoned her to say that he’d be down on the Saturday. Of course, they took off on Wednesday, crashed on Thursday morning. The pilot was a big friend of his. He’d just been picked to be Bomber Harris’ personal pilot and he’d done some — he’d got a lot of hours but there’s not much about him, so I don’t know what he was up to. He may have been slightly clandestine. He’d written a letter to his family, I think they were in Leeds, and he said, ‘We’re going mad, Jack and I, so, we’re off to Naples’, he said, ‘I’ll see you on Saturday for my great coat.’ Right, he had a very young brother who didn’t have any kids ‘til he was about thirty-seven. So, he had a nephew of the pilot who’s the same age as some of my kids. He’s about fifty now. And all he knew was, his uncle — he thought he flew Lancasters, and he found the 103 site so he wrote to David Fell, the historian then. He passed it all to me and we emailed and I said, ‘Your uncle’s service number was —’ this that and the other. And it was weird talking to this lad. That I knew more about his uncle than he did. Now, we’d been brought up in just south of Middlesbrough because Basil was a Durham lad originally. He was living down in Harold Wood at this — during the war. ,He moved back up north. I said, ‘Where are you?’ to this nephew of Jeff Taylor’s, the pilot. And he said, ‘Oh. We’re in Thirsk.’ Which was about eight miles from where we were living. And he came over one Christmas Day and he had a crew photo and this letter. It’s a bit poignant. And I helped him a lot I’m glad to say. I’ve got a pile of research from all the veterans on 103 and other historical branches. They had my dad down as second pilot in one letter. So, I queried that, and they said, ‘Oh, he may have been in the bomb aimer position,’ because this last — these Dodge ops were part of bringing back the 8th Army who were about to mutiny. It was called Dodge because some cretin at Air Ministry decided they’d dodged D-Day by daring to be overseas for six years all through North Africa. I hope he was —had it explained to, you know. So, that’s what they were doing there.
JM: So, the nurses that were on board. The women that were on board. Do you know what they, what they were doing? What was their role?
RW: Seventeen were in the ATS. Army auxiliary.
JM: Territorials.
RW: Territorial girls. They were sort of secretarial I believe. And drivers maybe. They were all — they’d been right through the North Africa Campaign from Tunisia right through. My stepfather was at Dunkirk. He got off the last ship from a jetty. Didn’t have to do any wading out. Because he was a Durham lad it upset him because the Durham Light Infantry were left as a rear guard. He wouldn’t talk about that. I persuaded him to give me his medals to get mounted and we found he’d been mentioned in despatches three times. Which was — he was in the Supply Corps.
JM: Very unusual.
RW: So, that was one down from a decoration frankly and so on, but he was well thought of. He didn’t get back from Italy until 1946. They lived in Warwick Road opposite Earl’s Court and we moved. That was my first sort of basic memory is up from Chadwell.
JM: Can I —
RW: Yeah.
JM: For the tape. Can I just clarify, my understanding is that on occasions the Lancasters might well be full of Italian POWs going home, and when they got to Bari or to Pomigliano then there would be British servicemen coming back to the UK.
RW: Yes.
JM: And it was this route that these ladies were on when the aeroplane went down. It was the return journey.
RW: No. Going.
JM: They were going.
RW: Going.
JM: Right. So, they were going out to Italy.
RW: Yeah. It has been put in some research that was, not stolen from me, but passed on without my knowledge. I corresponded with a Canadian guy who’d been at Elsham in ’42 and he wanted to know if anybody knew anything of that era. I said, ‘Well, I don’t but you might be able to help me.’ Told him that story briefly and he crossed it over that we were coming back. They were coming back.
JM: That’s fine.
RW: But they were actually going out.
JM: Yes.
RW: Now, the army I’m convinced had lost these girls. They’d been up to Liverpool twice on, for a troopship which would have had to come right out around the outside of Ireland because of the mine fields that were still about. They weren’t reported missing ‘til this troopship docked a fortnight later. The army would not release any information. Basil, on the staff of General Alexander couldn’t find anything out. And his — this girl’s mother, Mrs Mann, she put an advert in the paper and my mother was told about that so they corresponded. I’ve got a lovely letter from Mrs Mann about this and she’s saying ‘We couldn’t find anything out. We’ve written to everybody.’ And my mother was able to put her in the picture immediately. In fact, this Mrs Mann was more — as — concerned about my mother losing her husband of course. And so on. They were living near Harold Wood.
JM: Another aspect of it which is interesting and I don’t understand clearly is we are now in peacetime —
RW: Yes.
JM: It’s the October of 1945. The war has been over some months and yet the Lancasters were still carrying gunners. Why was this? Because you would have thought that had they not had those there would have had room for more passengers.
RW: Yeah. I’m not — I don’t think they’d removed the guns but that wouldn’t have affected the number of passengers. My dad was basically doing admin. I think he was virtually on a jolly as we call it.
JM: Right.
RW: Hence this bomb aimer’s position. Crowd control or what. I’ve seen how they load up the Lanc for that when I was instructing at Cosford. They’ve got a museum and there’s a big clump of them in the middle and then they go front to back for weight and balance. So, fifteen was in the bomb aimers position. It would be a cosy little fit. Sixteen was right at the back by the toilet you know. Which was no fun. There were nineteen passengers. So, there was a number fifteen. So, it’s nineteen to one whether my dad was sitting next to the, this ATS corporal, my stepfather’s fiancé. Which would have been a bit spooky.
JM: Yeah.
RW: Her middle name, funnily enough, was Eleanor. Which my stepfather said he never knew. He had her shoe brushes as a souvenir which was what you used to do. My mother was Eileen and my dad called her Eileena. And he always said that if he knew he was going in he’d shout her name out. Now, she says that on the day, Thursday morning, she sat upright in bed thinking she’d heard his voice. And then they got a phone call that night from a friend of his at Elsham. He said, ‘Look, they’ve gone missing. I’ve asked them not to send this awful telegram,’ which they did. He said, ‘I’ll come and see you. I’m on my way to Ramsgate. I’ll drop in on you at Grays,’ near Tilbury, in Essex. Now, that’s a bit of a trek by train and stuff for him so that was very good. He turned up on Saturday morning with my dad’s father and it all came out. He’d got the full chapter and verse by then.
JM: Yes.
RW: But the army would not tell anybody anything for some time.
JM: My understanding is that the passengers in the Lancaster would sit on simple seats and they had no oxygen which would have —
RW: Yes.
JM: Limited the height at which they could fly at.
RW: Yes.
JM: Is that correct?
RW: Yes. And the heating wasn’t brilliant either. But they were both — there were two of them with passengers from Honington. I beg your pardon. That should be Conington. It was because of Honington and Coningsby they called it Conington. I hope I’ve got that right. Yes. It was an American B17 base so they knew. The, Glatton, was on the other side, there was a grass strip for Spitfires and such. Different accents. Yeah, they were sitting on rudimentary canvas seats or their kit bags. You’d think something like that would have floated up to the top but it didn’t. Three times.
JM: Do you have a theory as to what caused your father’s aircraft to crash?
RW: They did report to the other guys that they were down at two thousand feet. I went off the point there because I spotted that mistake. They were down at two thousand feet. They were in a filthy electric storm. The other two, ten minutes behind. The other aircraft was in pitch black but clear, if you understand that. They could see Corsica so they knew they were that far. They crashed off Cap Corse which is the north point of it. There are sort of pot holes in the sea so there’s — the three other crews saw an explosion or fire on the sea, they knew what they looked like of course, and they plotted a latitude longitude which I’ve plotted myself. There was a misprint in one of the reports which made it east-north-east of Cap Corse which was too far, too close to Italy. It was the other way, west-north-west. And that was that. But as I say, they were both low down. The rest of them — there was about twenty aircraft up that night going — they went over high level because they were on oxygen and whatever. Yeah.
JM: So, it might well have been weather related.
RW: Well it was —
JM: The electrical storm may well have been a factor.
RW: Yeah. They were struck by lightning. Or, they did report engine trouble so they were turning back to Marseilles they said.
JM: Robert. Thank you very much.
RW: Ok.
JM: Is there anything you wish to add? You’ve given us a very, very, thorough account.
RW: Right. Good. Thank you very much. No. If anybody wants to get in touch by all means. I’ll pass my — I’m on record with the IBCC people. And, Julian, I’m sure will be able to —
JM: Yes. Absolutely.
RW: Tidy up the link.
JM: Yes.
RW: But I’ll be delighted to help anybody with any further information or questions.
JM: Thank you very much on behalf of IBCC. Thank you very much Robert.
RW: Thank you.
JM: Thank you.
RW: Cheers, Julian.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Interview with Robert Whymark
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Julian Maslin
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
2017-11-03
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Sound
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
AWhymarkR171103
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending review
Format
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00:30:54 audio recording
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Second generation
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
France
Germany
Great Britain
Italy
North Africa
Poland
France--Cape Corse
Germany--Nuremberg
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Leipzig
Poland--Gdańsk
England--Lincolnshire
England--Nottinghamshire
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945-10-04
Description
An account of the resource
Robert Whymark’s father John ‘Jack’ Whymark took part in three tours of operations. Initially Jack was trained as a mechanic and was posted to 17 Squadron at RAF Debden and RAF Martlesham Heath. He then volunteered for aircrew and trained as a gunner. He was posted to 149 Squadron, 106 Squadron, 103 Squadron and 101 Squadron. He was killed when his plane flew into a storm en route to Italy as part of Operation Dodge.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Julie Williams
Emily Bird
101 Squadron
103 Squadron
106 Squadron
149 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
anti-aircraft fire
bombing of Nuremberg (30 / 31 March 1944)
crash
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Service Order
Hurricane
killed in action
Lancaster
missing in action
Operation Dodge (1945)
RAF Debden
RAF Elsham Wolds
RAF Ludford Magna
RAF Manby
RAF Martlesham Heath
RAF Mildenhall
RAF Syerston
RAF West Freugh
Wellington
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Redgrave, Henry Cecil
H C Redgrave
Description
An account of the resource
187 items. The collection concerns Henry Cecil Redgrave (743047, Royal Air Force) and contains his decorations, letters and photographs. He flew operations as a bomb aimer with 207 Squadron from RAF Waddington. He was killed 13/14 March 1941. <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Pam Isaac and catalogued by Barry Hunter.<br /><br /><span>Additional information on Henry Cecil Redgrave is available via the </span><a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/119457/">IBCC Losses Database</a><span>.</span>
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-10-02
Rights
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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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Redgrave, HC
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
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Mrs J M Redgrave
155 Fletton Avenue
Peterboro’. [Peterborough]
Northants
[postage stamp]
[Post mark]
[page break]
[RAF Crest]
Sgts Mess
RAF Station
Finningley
Yorks [Yorkshire]
Dear Jessie,
As you can see I arrived OK and by about 4.30 yesterday afternoon. It was a grand ride and the byke [sic] went very well and I have nearly a gallon of petrol in hand. As it is only 10d return to Doncaster and there are plenty of buses I shall hang on to that petrol to enable me to come and see you sometime.
We wont [sic] be getting any leave here it seems so my hopes are dashed again but we are only here for a six weeks [sic] course and maybe I shall be lucky then. The place seems to be an O.T.U. for Hampdens but is not so called as we are attached to 106 Squadron for Crew Training before being posted to another squadron for operations. The place seems very quiet all day but as soon as it is dark it fairly hums with aircraft doing local flights
[page break]
and others taking off on cross countries [sic] As Hampdens operate at night nearly all our flying is done then and I have heard we shall do 50 hours night [sic] in our six weeks. The shortest cross country [sic] is three hours and the longest six. Goodness knows what I shall do on a six hour night flight.
This mess is much better than Upwood and the food is grand. It should be as the messing charge is seven pence a day. I have made a voluntary allottment [sic] of two shillings a day for you but do not know when it will go through as the accounts have to wait for our documents from Upwood.
Its [sic] half past ten and I am feeling tired so will save you the rest to tell you tomorrow.
Lots of love from your loving husband
Harry. Xxxxx
For Pam xxx
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
To Jessie from Harry Redgrave
Description
An account of the resource
Two-page (undated) letter and envelope from Harry Redgrave to his wife Jessie. Harry has been attached to 106 Squadron for crew training and will be flying in Hampdens. He writes that conditions are better than at Upwood.
Creator
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Harry Redgrave
Format
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Two page handwritten letter and envelope
Language
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eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Correspondence
Identifier
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ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM[Date]-030001,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM[Date]-030002,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM[Date]-030003
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Civilian
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
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Finningley
England--Yorkshire
106 Squadron
aircrew
Hampden
mess
military living conditions
Operational Training Unit
RAF Finningley
training
-
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Redgrave, Henry Cecil
H C Redgrave
Description
An account of the resource
187 items. The collection concerns Henry Cecil Redgrave (743047, Royal Air Force) and contains his decorations, letters and photographs. He flew operations as a bomb aimer with 207 Squadron from RAF Waddington. He was killed 13/14 March 1941. <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Pam Isaac and catalogued by Barry Hunter.<br /><br /><span>Additional information on Henry Cecil Redgrave is available via the </span><a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/119457/">IBCC Losses Database</a><span>.</span>
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-10-02
Rights
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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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Redgrave, HC
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[postage stamp]
[postmark]
Mrs. H. C. Redgrave,
155 Fletton Avenue,
Peterboro’
Northants.
[page break]
[reverse of envelope]
[page break]
[RAF Crest]
Sgts Mess
R.A.F.
Finningley
Tues 1-10-40
Dear Jessie,
Many happy returns of the day darling you look younger and prettier than at 21. Married life must have done you good. Im [sic] sorry I could not manage to get out to send you a card but I am sure you will understand when I say your birthday has been in my mind all day. It seems very difficult to know what to get for you and perhaps you will tell me whether you would like an umbrella or the cash or something else that you might suggest. There is nothing of interest to tell you other than the fact that I have had two night duties over the week-end. Saturday I was out in charge of the beacon but although it was a bit of a bind I had plenty to eat and hot tea and cocoa to fortify me
[page break]
through the night. At Finningley the beacon stays on until dawn and I slept in the lorry for a few hours and had the next morning off.
Sunday night I had a turn at Duty look-out which is a four hour shift on the roof of Station Headquarters. As I was on from 2100 – 0100 it was rather miserable spending four hours stuck up there on a roof top in the dark and bitter cold. I was never more thankful for the wonderful scarf you knitted me last winter and although I had my flying boots on and later a blanket draped round me by one o’clock in the morning I was chilled to the bone.
I like your photo a lot though I have seen both you and Pamela looking prettier than in the picture. When I compared it with the
[page break]
last one of you two I realised just how much our little Pamela has become a big girl and I thought what a credit she was to you with her sturdy legs and round little face.
Its [sic] funny you should mention seeing the Hampdens in the paper, which I presume to be the News of the World, because I was going to tell you to keep the picture as they are of 106 Squadron and probably the only ones I shall be able the get. Havent [sic] you made a mistake dear surely this is the first anniversary we have not been together as I did not go until November 7th. Childrens [sic] clothes are not coming within the scope of the Purchase Tax but its [sic] just as well to get her some things as they are bound to go up. Theres [sic] just a faint hope
[page break]
that I may get 48 hours in a fortnights [sic] time.
The possibility arises from the fact that [deleted] that [/deleted] next Monday I shall start a fortnights crew training course which consists of a weeks [sic] lectures and a week of dry swims and as the lectures finish Friday morning and the dry swims start on Monday the intervening two days may give to a chance to sneak home to you my love. So heres [sic] your husband once again full of hopes and lets [sic] hope they are not dashed.
Lots of love and kisses to you and Pamela
From your loving husband
Harry xxxxx
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
To Jessie from Harry Redgrave
Description
An account of the resource
A letter and envelope from Harry Redgrave to his wife. Harry wishes her a happy birthday and writes about life at RAF Finningley including night-time look-out duties.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Harry Redgrave
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1940-10-01
Format
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Four handwritten sheets and an envelope
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Correspondence
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM401001-0001,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM401001-0002,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM401001-0003,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM401001-0004,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM401001-0005,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM401001-0006
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Civilian
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Yorkshire
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1940-09
106 Squadron
aircrew
Hampden
RAF Finningley
station headquarters
training
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1244/16288/LWoodsEH751788v1.1.pdf
3374514a43262ab7d566dd81994a1651
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Woods, Eric Horace
E H Woods
Timber Woods
Description
An account of the resource
Two items. The collection concerns Flight Lieutenant Eric Horace Woods (b. 1921, 751788, 162541 Royal Air Force) and consists of his log book and a mess bill. He flew as a navigator with 511 Squadron in Transport Command and then operations with 106, 144 and 61 Squadrons in Bomber Command. He flew with British Overseas Airways Corporation before becoming an aircrew examiner after the war.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Peter Geoffrey Woods and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-10-17
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Woods, EH
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Eric Horace Woods’ observer’s and air gunner’s flying log book
Description
An account of the resource
Observer’s and air gunner’s flying log book for Eric Horace Woods, navigator, covering the period from 28 November 1939 to 10 July 1946. Detailing his flying training, operations flown, instructor duties, operations with transport command and post war flying. He was stationed at RAF Stapleford Abotts, RAF Hamble, RAF Penrhos, RAF Upwood, RAF West Raynham, RAF Finningley, RAF Hemswell, RAF Watton, RAF North Luffenham, RAF Woolfox, RAF Cranage, RAF Wigtown, RAF Lyneham and RAF Bassingbourn. Aircraft flown in were, Anson, Westland Wessex, Avro Avalon, Envoy, Battle, Harrow, Demon, Blenheim, Hart, Hampden, Manchester, B-24, Oxford, Albemarle, C-47, York and Lancaster. He flew one operation with 106 Squadron, 4 night operations with 144 Squadron and 25 night operations with 61 Squadron. His pilots on operations were Squadron Leader Parker, Sergeant King, Sergeant Curtis, Sergeant Whitmore, Sergeant Sleight, Sergeant Baker, Flying Officer Casement, Squadron Leader Pascall, Flying Officer Craig, Flying Officer McKee, Flying Officer Hebbourn and Flight Sergeant Scott. Targets were, Bordeaux, Essen, Magdeburg, Hannover, Kiel, Borkum, Mannheim, Hamburg, Bremen, Cologne, St Nazaire, Dusseldorf, Weser River, Karlsruhe, Krefeld and Frankfurt. He also flew 101 wartime transport operations with 511 Squadron. The log book is annotated with a brief biography, and cuttings about aircraft and operations.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Mike Connock
Cara Walmsley
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Format
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One booklet
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Log book and record book
Identifier
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LWoodsEH751788v1
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Air Force. Transport Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
France
Germany
Great Britain
Atlantic Ocean--Baltic Sea
Atlantic Ocean--Bay of Biscay
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Cheshire
England--Essex
England--Hampshire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Norfolk
England--Rutland
England--Yorkshire
England--Wiltshire
France--Saint-Nazaire
Germany--Bremen
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Essen
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Karlsruhe
Germany--Kiel
Germany--Krefeld
Germany--Magdeburg
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Weser River
Scotland--Dumfries and Galloway
Wales--Gwynedd
France--Bordeaux (Nouvelle-Aquitaine)
Germany--Borkum
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1940-09-09
1940-09-10
1940-10-09
1940-10-15
1940-10-16
1940-10-18
1940-10-24
1940-10-25
1940-10-26
1941-05-05
1941-05-06
1941-05-08
1941-05-09
1941-05-10
1941-05-11
1941-05-12
1941-05-17
1941-05-18
1941-05-25
1941-05-26
1941-05-27
1941-05-28
1941-06-02
1941-06-03
1941-06-11
1941-06-12
1941-06-14
1941-06-15
1941-06-17
1941-06-18
1941-06-20
1941-06-21
1941-07-03
1941-07-04
1941-07-05
1941-07-06
1941-07-14
1941-07-15
1941-07-19
1941-07-20
1941-07-24
1941-07-25
1941-07-30
1941-07-31
1941-08-06
1941-08-07
1941-08-08
1941-08-09
1941-08-11
1941-08-12
1941-08-13
1941-08-25
1941-08-26
1941-08-27
1941-08-28
1941-08-29
1941-08-30
106 Squadron
144 Squadron
17 OTU
61 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
Air Observers School
aircrew
Albemarle
Anson
B-24
Battle
Blenheim
bombing
Bombing and Gunnery School
C-47
crash
Hampden
Harrow
Ju 88
Lancaster
Manchester
mine laying
navigator
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
RAF Bassingbourn
RAF Cranage
RAF Finningley
RAF Hemswell
RAF Lyneham
RAF North Luffenham
RAF Penrhos
RAF Upwood
RAF Watton
RAF West Raynham
RAF Wigtown
RAF Woolfox Lodge
training
York
-
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Stephenson, Stuart
Stuart Stephenson MBE
S Stephenson
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
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Stephenson, S
Description
An account of the resource
20 items. An oral history interview with Stuart Stephenson MBE, Chairman of the Lincs-Lancaster Association, and issues of 5 Group News.
The collection was catalogued by Barry Hunter.
In accordance with the conditions stipulated by the donor, some items are available only at the International Bomber Command Centre / University of Lincoln.
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
To be inserted in folder when returned by S/L Lynch. [Underlined] Intelligence [/underlined]
V GROUP NEWS V
[Waddington Central Registry Stamp]
SEPTEMBER 1943. [deleted] CONFIDENTIAL [/deleted] NUMBER 14.
FOREWORD by A.O.C.
This Group now carries a weight of incendiaries which, if concentrated on any target, could not fail to burn it out. Unfortunately analysis of night photographs continues to reveal a spread of incendiaries which, if it continues, can only result in a needless prolongation of the War. It is common for incendiaries to cover an area measuring five to ten miles in length and this is true even on some of the most successful attacks. Large areas of Hamburg have been burnt out and I have no doubt that crews who took part in the main attacks are satisfied with what was achieved, yet it is unfortunately true that of the bombs which left this country only 30% fell in the built-up area of Hamburg, the remainder in open fields outside. That is equivalent to only one crew out of three achieving the object of bombing Hamburg. Luck, was, however, on our side and the city caught fire, but luck has not been on our side in many recent attacks, and results have been disappointing because the density of the incendiary attack has not been sufficient to start a conflagration.
I believe that one cause of this spread is that crews have difficulty in appreciating the area which is covered by incendiaries. Invariably they uber-estimate distances and report a concentrated attack when subsequent photographs show it to have been spread over seven or more miles of country. The belief that the attack is concentrated and, therefore, that it does not matter a great deal where the bombs fall provided they are within the area in which incendiaries and T.I’s are lying is at the root of much of the trouble. As a guide to distance the ordinary target indicator, by the time it hits the ground, covers an area of quarter of a mile, while a single incendiary load has a spread of about half a mile. From operational heights it is hard to appreciate these distances.
The solution to greater concentration lies in a determination by the bombing team, Pilot/Navigator/Air Bomber and Instrument Repair Staff, that the bombs will fall on the precise spot aimed at. This calls for constant practice and training, and the full analysis of results obtained on the bombing ranges.
It is sometimes said that practice bombing bears little relation to the requirements of operations, but this is not so. Turn to the table showing bombing results achieved by Squadrons last month. You will see that one Squadron with 22 details had an average error of 475 yards. Another Squadron with 32 details an error of 152 yards. Which of these two Squadrons is likely to achieve the better results on operations? An error of 475 yards under practice conditions, can only be a result of failure to maintain the sights in proper condition, coupled with failure on the part of crews to give the necessary time, thought and energy to the problem of accurate bombing. The moment carelessness creeps in there is no limit to bombing errors. An error of 475 yards on the practice range may be ten times that amount on operations, whereas an error on the practice range of under 100 yards demonstrates
(Continued on Back Page Col. 3)
[Boxed] ROLLS ROYCE AND THE MERLIN [/boxed]
PART II.
[Rolls Royce Logo]
Some idea of the complexity of the modern aero engine can be obtained from the fact that in the Merlin engine there are approximately 11,000 separate pieces, and of these, 4,500 are different. As would be expected, owing to the fundamental necessity for keeping weight down to the minimum, the maximum possible use is made of light alloy metals, and of the total engine weight almost one half is aluminium. All the metals used have been especially produced for the particular purpose for which they are used, and give the maximum strength in combination with minimum weight. Some parts are called upon to operate under exceptional conditions of heat, other parts to rotate at enormous speeds continuously; the valves, for instance, must work at 850 degrees Centigrade, the temperature of the wire in an ordinary electric radiator, and the impellor in the supercharger must revolve over 30,000 times every minute.
The aero engine of today is a highly complex piece of mechanism which must be capable of functioning under widely different conditions of temperature, and it must not falter when the machine in which it is installed is climbed, dived, rolled or flown upside down. During fighting manoeuvres the pilot’s life depends upon the response of the engine to its controls, it must not fade or cut out when he changes direction or altitude suddenly to avoid enemy attack, it must be immediately responsive to his will when he himself is attacking. Apart from the fact that it must function equally satisfactorily in climates as far opposed as Russia and the Middle East, it is subject to very quick temperature changes every time it climbs to altitudes. On a summer day in England, the pilot can leave the ground in the sweltering 90’s and climb straight up to, say, 7 miles high, where the temperature will be down to 100 degrees of frost.
Apart from the quick temperature variation encountered when climbing to altitude, there is one other natural effect which is all important, and this is rarification of the atmosphere; the higher the distance from the earth the less dense the air becomes. Air, in combination with petrol in the correct proportion, is the main factor, which determines how much power the engine is capable of giving, the more air and petrol that can be consumed by the engine in a given time the greater is the power developed. The higher the machine flies, the more difficult it is for the engine to obtain sufficient air due, of course, to the rarified atmosphere. Arrangements have to be made therefore to compensate for this effect, and in order to do so a supercharger is employed. A supercharger is in effect a pump which supplies air to the engine under pressure; this device is usually associated in the minds of most people with racing cars on which it is used to force as much air as possible into the engine, and so obtain the maximum power from a small sized engine. On the aero engine, this is a secondary consideration, and its main object is to compensate automatically for the gradually decreasing air density as the aeroplane climbs to altitude. The power output of an engine without a supercharger rapidly decreases as it climbs and at a height of 4 miles the power is less than half of what it was on the ground. By using a suitable supercharger it is possible to maintain the ground level power up to 40,000 feet or more. This has to be done automatically so that the pilot does not have to worry about working any controls.
The aero engine must also be as small and compact as possible, so that it offers the minimum wind resistance when installed in the aircraft, it must also be as light as it is possible to make it – power also is of course all important.
The Merlin engine produces more power than a modern express train engine, yet its weight including the propeller is only 1/84th. of the locomotive. All this colossal energy is packed into a space no bigger than that occupied by a single bed.
At the outbreak of war the fighter aircraft of the R.A.F. were exclusively powered by Merlin engines, it was the only engine used in all the fighter machines which so successfully defended our country in the Battle of Britain. In Spitfires and Hurricanes it is still the mainstay of our fighter attack and defence. It is employed in Defiant and Beaufighter night fighters, and the Fleet Air Arm use it to good effect in the Fulmar. In bomber aircraft also the Merlin is extensively used; the Battle medium single engined bomber which gave such good service in France prior to Dunkirk is now relegated to training use; the twin engined Whitley bomber famous for leaflet and bomb raids far into enemy territory in the early days of the was still does yeoman service defending our Atlantic convoys. It is used in Wellington bombers, and was more recently chosen as the motive power for the four engined Halifax heavy bomber, and also for the Lancaster, acknowledged the most effective bomber in the World, and which made its glorious debut in the daring Augsberg raid by 97 and 44 Squadrons
(Continued on Back Page Column 2 )
[Page break]
[Boxed] SIGNALS [/boxed] EFFORTS FOR IMPROVED TR.1196 PERFORMANCE BEARING FRUIT.
Our efforts towards improved performance from the TR. 1196 have advanced during the month. RAE are trying out two mods., one on a Conversion Unit aircraft – aimed at permitting good intercom. undisturbed by “blot out” from neighbouring R/T. An extra R – RA switch is fitted for the convenience of the instructor. Initial reports from the staff auger well. At Waddington the ground TR. 1196 has been modified to give better modulation and also provision of a manual volume control for use by the R/T operator. Tests are in progress.
A thorough vetting of Local Flying Control TR. 1196 frequencies has just been completed at all airfields. The present practice of accepting a maximum R/T range of only a few miles has rather fogged the issue. Range tests are now being carried out and all pilots are thanked in advance for the co-operation we are sure they will give. Remember our aim is to help you safely down immediately you arrive in the circuit and the greater the R/T range the nearer we shall be to attaining our object.
[Boxed] SIGNALS FAILURES [/boxed]
Helmets icing up and oil on the slip rings of the mid-upper turret are adding their toll of failures. Here are a couple of tips to help overcome them:-
Fit the oxygen mask snugly to the face and blow hard at regular intervals both before and during flight. This action prevents the valve adhering to the composition holder and so moisture cannot collect in the mask and freeze at high altitudes.
W/OP. A.G’s always carry a piece of material (4x2 is good stuff if the Gunnery Leader isn’t looking!) to clean the oil from the top of the mid-upper turret slip ring cover.
[Boxed] FAILURE SUMMARY [/boxed]
The percentage of failures against sorties detailed for operations is as follows:-
49 SQDN NIL 106 SQDN. NIL. 207 SQDN NIL
467 SQDN NIL. 57 SQDN. NIL. 61 SQDN .95
50 SQDN 2.13 44 SQDN. 2.74 9 SQDN 2.99
619 SQDN 4.25 617 SQDN 4.54
It will be noted that the figures for 617 and 619 Squadron appear unduly high: in the case of 617 it will be appreciated that due to the comparatively small number of sortied, the multiplicity of equipment carried and the nature of their tasks, the percentage represents only a small number of failures. In the case of 619, it is felt that this is due to very consciencious [sic] reporting of component failures particularly. It will be realised that the reporting of failures involving the breakdown of an individual component which, whilst not affecting the operational success of a sortie, does provide details which help considerably towards preventing their recurrence.
[Boxed] FLIGHT PLANNING TELEPHONE NETWORK CONFERENCE FACILITY [/boxed]
The conference facility has proved a great boon for flight planning purposes since its inception. To improve its efficiency and smooth workability, steps are being taken to have Base and Station installations standardised as soon as possible. This will mean that at a Base where the flight planning equipment is in the Intelligence room, this equipment will be transferred to the Operations room. Stations and Satellites provide a slight headache in this respect, because they by no means conform to a standard layout themselves.
A second aspect of the conference facility is its use as an intruder warning channel, which is not working satisfactorily. Local re-arrangements have just been completed at Group and it is hoped that a really efficient scheme has been evolved. The Teller and the Controller are now able to sit side by side, in full view of the plotting table, and each with a separate flight planning telephone. Flying Control “hook-up” will be set up whenever weather conditions or intruder activity make it necessary. Both Teller and Controller can then speak to Stations, the one to pass the intruder activity the other to order any necessary diversions.
[Boxed] MONICA [/boxed]
Our girlfriend Monica is still giving us all grey hair. The experts have now been at work for several weeks and are finding the problem far more difficult than at first expected.
In spits [sic] of this the serviceability has increased, and the faults in the sets are being cleared, slowly but surely.
A method of accurately testing the sensitivity of the Rx has been found preventing a fighter from getting into range without warning.
Some sets may give a fighter warning, but not respond to test. Crews are inclined to think these sets serviceable, but they must remember that such sets are on the borderline, and may not warn in every case. It is this drifting of the Rx gain that we are trying so hard to correct.
The aerials are a further source of trouble, partly caused by personnel using them as step ladders. A bent aerial will often make the set unserviceable.
In spite of all these difficulties, Monica has proved its usefulness over and over again, as many satisfied customers will testify. It is the only warning system we have, it can be made to work, so all concerned must keep at it until the answer is found.
[Boxed] GEE [/boxed]
As usual the GEE ranges vary from sortie to sortie. The serviceability, however, is very good from a maintenance and component viewpoint. Manipulation failures are too frequent, and every opportunity should be made to prevent these RF unit and aerial lead manipulation failures.
W/Op. A.G’s are now applying their GEE knowledge and are getting fixed on the return journeys.
[Boxed] SIGNALS SECURITY
Not many of us liked the new phonetic alphabet and the changeover was allowed to be gradual. However the time has now arrived when our Berties and Freddies should be discarded for ever. Squadrons which persist in the use of the old alphabet are labelling themselves to the Hun. [/boxed]
[Boxed] TRAINING [/boxed] WEATHER RETARDS OUTPUT.
A NEW TRAINING VENTURE.
[Illustration] MY LANDING ARE WIZARD
FAMOUS LAST WORDS Due to bad weather and shortage of Lancaster aircraft, the high output of over 100 crews per month could not be maintained by Conversion Units, and the figure dropped to 82 crews trained during the month. To overcome the temporary shortage of aircraft, it was necessary for Squadrons to loan aircraft during the stand down period to the Conversion Units and it is hoped that, given good weather, next month the deficit in crews will be more than made up.
[Boxed] THE NEW TRAINING VENTURE [/boxed]
The Conversion Base started on a new venture with a short course for Flight Commanders. All the Officers attending benefited by the course, and it is thought that at least three of the instructional staff have learned a great deal as well. Courses will continue during the coming months with, it is hoped, beneficial results.
[Boxed] TOTAL FLYING HOURS FOR THE MONTH WERE – 5481 FOR TRAINING UNITS [/boxed]
[Boxed] CREW SAFETY [/boxed]
The number of ditchings by Lancasters continues to go up. Most crews pay sufficient attention to this vital crew drill to ensure that they can leave the aircraft safely. However, constant practice is necessary to keep yourself up to the mark. In one unfortunate ditching it is known that complete panic ensued and all the crew simply leapt out of the nearest escape hatch straight into the water with fatal results excepting one man.
[Table of Link Trainer times per squadron]
[Table of Squadron Flying Times – Day and Night]
SEPTEMBER, 1943. PAGE 2.
[Page break]
[Boxed] GUNNERY. [/boxed] FEWER SORTIES – MORE COMBATS: THE VITAL NEED FOR PERFECT RECOGNITION.
Although the number of sorties during the month was considerably less than August, the number of combats for September was 133. 14 Enemy aircraft are claimed as destroyed and 27 damaged. Enemy aircraft marked “C” in “This Month’s Bag” are those confirmed by Headquarters, Bomber Command at the time of going to press.
Unfortunately instances are still occurring of Lancasters being engaged by other Lancasters and it would appear that sufficient care is not taken to identify the other aircraft before pressing the trigger. This problem of identifying aircraft is extremely difficult under certain conditions and this statement is supported by night fighter pilots with considerable experience, but the only solution is Aircraft Recognition of a 101 per cent quality and Squadron Gunnery Leaders should keep this problem in mind always and Air Gunners should be classified on their ability and a scheme instituted whereby the Gunners who are weak in this respect are given exercises daily until the required standard of 100% is reached.
Instances are still occurring of early return due to turret doors not locking, no excuse can be accepted for this, as turret doors should be checked on N.F.T. and again when the crew go out to the aircraft for take-off. It is again stressed that Gunners should check as far as possible guns and turrets immediately on arriving at the aircraft prior to take-off; this practice has frequently enabled the ground staff to put right minor troubles. Any Gunner who is not 100 per cent satisfied with the operation of his turret and guns is to request the Pilot to run the engine and a test then carried out on the turret which is suspect.
[Boxed] MODIFICATIONS AND NEW EQUIPMENT [/boxed]
Experiments with an F.N. 50 Turret are being carried out by 1660 C.U. in an attempt to improve the visibility, metal is being replaced by perspex in the Cupola and much of the metal in front of the Gunner is being removed. A new bulb for the reflector sight is also being tested by this unit. 50 Squadron are carrying out tests on a reflector sight with most of the material from the hood removed, this precludes the sight being used in bright sunlight, but it is hoped to produce an attachment to overcome this difficulty.
[Underlined] RESULTS OF C.G.S. COURSES. [/underlined]
NO. 64 COURSE
P/O HUGHES – 61 SQDN – 13TH, PLACE CAT “B”
NO. 65 COURSE
F/O ARMSTRONG – 9 SQDN – 10TH. PLACE CAT “B”
F/O BUCKLEY – 617 SQDN – 17TH. PLACE CAT. “A”
NO. 66 COURSE
P/O BLACK – 1661 C.U. – 2ND. PLACE CAT “B”
F/SGT. VAUGHAN – 49 SQDN – FAILED CAT “D”
[Boxed] WAR EFFORT [/boxed]
[Table of Group aircraft statistics by Squadron]
[Boxed] This Months Bag [/boxed]
[Cartoon]
DESTROYED
ENEMY A/C AIRCRAFT LETTER SQUADRON DATE
ME109 F “C” 207 3/.4.9.43.
S.E. B “C” 44 3/4.9.43.
S.E. Z “C” 9 5/6.9.43.
ME110 C “C” 106 3/4.9.43.
S.E. R “C” 9 5/6.9/43.
S.E. U 467 23/24.9.43.
ME109 V 467 23/24.9.43.
JU88 K 61 23/24.9.43.
ME109 Z 207 27/28.9.43.
ME109 T 57 27/28.9.43.
JU88 N 57 27/28.9.43.
JU88 P 50 27/28.9.43.
ME109 X 44 29/30.9.43.
FW190 P 207 29/30.9.43.
DAMAGED
ME210 A 207 31/1.9.43.
ME100 J 49 3/4.9.43.
JU88 O 207 3/4.9.43.
T.E. X 44 3/4.9.43.
T.E. K 44 3/4.9.43.
FW190 K 49 6/7.9.43.
JU88 A 50 5/6.9.43.
FW190 C 619 6/7.9.43.
JU88 H 57 22/23.9.43.
JU88 X 57 22/23.9.43.
ME210 P 50 22/23.9.43.
JU88 ED944 57 23/24.9.43.
ME109 Z 207 23/24.9.43.
ME109 J 207 23/24.9.43.
ME210 D 106 23/24.9.43.
JU88 H 44 27/28.9.43.
ME109 Q 61 22/23.9.43.
ME109 F 61 22/23.9.43.
JU88 A 61 22/23.9.43.
ME210 C 207 23/24.9.43.
JU88 J 207 27/28.9.43.
ME109 K 61 23/24.9.43.
ME109 A 61 27/28.9.43.
DO217 L 44 29/30.9.43
T.E. X 44 29/30.9.43.
FW190 J 61 29/30.9.43.
JU88 R 61 5/6.9.43.
[Boxed] The Gunnery Leaders’ Conference was held at Waddington on the 27th. September. The minutes of the Conference have been circulated together with information on several points raised at the Conference which have now been clarified. [/boxed]
[Boxed] ACCIDENTS. [/boxed] INCREASED FLYING HOURS BRINGS SLIGHT RISE IN ACCIDENT RATE.
There were 17 accidents listed as avoidable for September, an increase of three on last month’s total, for an increase of 378 flying hours.
Flying hours for September – 13,520
Flying hours for August – 13,142
The summary of avoidable accidents for September is as follows:-
TAXYING – 2: HEAVY LANDINGS – 5: SWINGS – 2 (One on landing the other on take-off): OVERSHOOTING – 2: ERRORS OF JUDGEMENT – 5. The errors of judgement consist of:-
1. The pilot started the three engined overshoot at 20 ft., but was caught out by the swing resulting from three engines being opened to full power. The aircraft swung completely round from 180° and came to rest in the River Trent, luckily without fatal results. As a contributory factor the Navigator was not calling Air Speeds on the approach. As a result of this accident the Captain’s log book was endorsed in red for not ensuring that his own and his crew drill was correct. MORAL – TAKE CARE OF YOUR CREW DRILL.
2. Another instance of carelessness occurred at the end of last month when an aircraft crashed through taking off with four engines switched to No. 2 tanks which were empty, and were known to be empty by the Captain and Flight Engineer. Luckily the crew were not fatally injured.
3. At 23,000 ft. the pilot passed out for lack of oxygen and it was later found that he had inadvertently nipped his oxygen tube in his harness, cutting off the supply. The aircraft went into a steep dive and was only pulled out by the Navigator and Flight Engineer in unison, after losing 15,000 feet. The terrific stresses set up rendered the aircraft Cat. AC. MORAL – TAKE CARE OF YOUR OXYGEN TUBE.
4. On return from a long sortie the crew of a Lancaster decided they had enough fuel left to reach Base, but on approaching to land three engines cut out for lack of petrol and the aircraft crashed. Attention of all aircrew especially Pilots and Flight Engineers, must be drawn to the fact that a rigorous check of fuel consumption must be kept with the untrustworthiness of fuel gauges always kept in mind. Fuel consumption calculators have been issued to all Units MORAL – KEEP YOUR FUEL CONSUMPTION CALCULATOR HANDY ON ALL FLIGHTS.
5. On return from operations a Lancaster hit the sea with the altimeter reading 160 feet. MORAL WHY COME SO LOW AS THIS?
6. On a low flying exercise a pilot took his hands off the controls to adjust his goggles, and the aircraft hit a tree. MORAL – IF LOW FLYING, DON’T LET YOUR ATTENTION WANDER.
All these accidents are entirely due to carelessness on the part of aircrew and the cost to the country is appalling. Remember, every Lancaster lostthrough [sic] your “clottishness” is one less Lancaster to drop bombs on the Hun.
[Boxed] NEARLY A GOOD RECORD [/boxed]
1660 Con. Unit’s excellent record was marred this month by a swing on Landing but there is a gratifying decrease in all Con. Units this month. In all training Units there were five avoidable accidents for a total of 5481 flying hours.
[Table of Avoidable Accidents by Unit]
5 GROUP NEWS. No. 14. SEPTEMBER, 1943. PAGE 3.
[Page break]
[Boxed] AIR BOMBING. [V Group drawings] [/boxed]
[Boxed] PRACTICE BOMBING ON THE SQUADRONS [/BOXED]
[Boxed] [Table of Practice Bombing exercises carried out by each Squadron] [/boxed]
[Boxed] Weekly returns have not yet been received from 49 Squadron and 1654 Conversion Unit, consequently leaving the monthly table incomplete.
617’s results were obtained using the S.A.B.S. Mark IIA.
5258 Practice bombs were dropped (excluding 49 Squadron and 1654 Conversion Unit)
The high level bombing average on Squadrons (from date available) was 218 yards at 10,000 feet and 308 yards at 20,000 feet. In general, results were a slight improvement on August, but the Group error was adversely affected by the high average error of 44 Squadron.
Great credit id due to 1660 Conversion Unit who achieved a Mark XIV Grouping Error better than that of any Squadron. [/boxed]
[Boxed] [Underlined] WAINFLEET BOMBING RANGE [/underlined]
During September, exactly 5,000 bombs were plotted at Wainfleet Sands, although all targets were unserviceable for part of the month.
GOOD BOMBING
The number of details with average error less than 100 yards was greatly increased
SQUADRON PILOT AIR BOMBER ERROR
617 (Using SABS)
F/O. CLAYTON P/O. WATSON 43, 59, 71.
P/O. BROWN SGT. DANCIA 72, 86, 75 (Twice)
F/LT. WILSON SGT. BARROW 94, 70, 61, 78.
F/LT MUNRO F/SGT. CALY 88, 41, 60, 94, 87, 65.
S/LDR. MARTIN F/LT. HAY 51, 82, 71, 64, 82.
F/Lt. MCCARTHY F/O. DAVIDSON 80, 49, 76.
619
P/O. JOSS F/O. ANDERSON 91.
F/O. MORRISON SGT. ALLEY 85.
F/LT. SANDISON F/O. WILKIE 81.
F/LT. SANDISON F/LT. SALMSLEY 95.
F/LT. SANDISON W/CDR. ABERCROMBIE 64.
SGT. THOMAS SGT. FONTAINE 70.
F/O. O’SHAUGNESSY F/O. KENDRICK 26.
S/LDR. CHURCHER F/O. MACDONALD 84.
F/O. FOX F/O. BRAID 77.
106
P/O. CALLAN SGT. GOMERSALL. 94.
P/O. COOPER F/SGT. CHRISTMAS 88.
P/O. STORER SGT. HACKETT 97.
P/O. YACKMAN P/O. MOREY 94.
467
F/LT. FORBES P/O. GRIME 79.
P/O. RILEY SGT. VALASTIN 90.
57
SGT. YATES P/O. WANGLER (PILOT) 86.
50
SGT. DURHAM SGT. BROCK 76.
61
F/O. PITCH P/O. LYONS 92.
1654 C.U. SGT. HOMEWOOD SSGT. WALKER 93. [/boxed]
[Boxed] [Underlined] BOMBING LEADERS’ CORNER. [/underlined]
F/O. Murtough and P/O. Wonham, both of 1661 Conversion Unit assume command of the Bombing Section of 44 Squadron and 1668 Conversion Unit respectively.
The following have passed the Bombing Leader’s Course :-
GRADE “A” F/O. HAZELL (44) F/O. STANISLAUS (9) F/SGT. RUMGAY (207)
P/O. PRICE (1654) P/O. WONHAM (1668)
GRADE “B” F/SGT. LOWANS (49) F/O. TOOGOOD (106) F/O. BOSWELL (619)
SGT. TELFORD (467) F/O. McROBBIE (57) F/O. HARDEN (1660)
F/O. ASTBURG (1661)
P/ . Wonham was 2nd. on No. 63 Course and F/Sgt. Rumgay 3rd. on No. 66 Course.
WELL DONE BOTH! [/boxed]
[Boxed] [Underlined] SQUADRON BOMBING COMPETITION. [/underlined]
Despite a record number of details only 3 Squadrons qualified for this competition.
619 Squadron are to be congratulated on winning the competition for the third successive month, and in so doing obtained by far the best average yet returned although the errors include vector error and are application errors.
[Table of Squadrons and bombing results]
[Underlined] LEADER COMPETITION [/underlined]
Only two entries were received, F/Lt. Walmsley improving on his winning score of the previous month.
LEADER PILOT HEIGHT ERROR
F/LT. WALMSLEY F/LT. SANDISON 10000FT 95 YDS
S/LDR. BEACH S/LDR. PARKES 10000FT 280 YDS [/boxed]
[Boxed] [Diagram]
From 20,000 feet the Mark XIV graticule covers a width of 540 yards and a length of 3,100 yards on the ground at the moment of release.
If the centre of your graticule is only two graticule lengths from the aiming point, you stand a grave chance of missing even quite a large city. Remember, one T.I. has a diameter of 300 yards ! [/boxed]
[Boxed] [Underlined] ‘BIGCHIEF’ COMPETITION [/underlined]
BIGCHIEF PILOT ERROR AT 10000 FT.
W/CDR. ABERCROMBIE S/LDR. SANDISON 64 YDS
G/CPT. CHRISTIE S/LDR PULLEN 94 YDS
W/CDR. PENMAN P/O. EAGER 123 YDS
G/CAPT. CHRISTIE S/LDR. PULLEN 142 YDS
W/CDR. BURNETT S/LDR. BUNKER 238 YDS
It will be noted that representatives of 619 Squadron won all three competitions. Is this the result of bombing analysis ?!
A hot pace has already been set for October, several details have already been carried out, among them two by the A.O.C. who achieved average errors of 42 yards and 48 yards respectively – the latter was actually at 18,000 feet. [/boxed]
5 GROUP NEWS. NO. 14. SEPTEMBER, 1943. PAGE 4.
[Page break]
[Underlined] V GROUP NEWS NO. 14. SEPTEMBER, 1943.
SUPPLEMENT.
AIR BOMBING. [/underlined]
The month of September was notable for a complete revision of bombing training policy.
In the days of the A.B.S. only application bombing was possible and analysis of results was haphazard and involved considerable guesswork. Now that we are rapidly becoming equipped with Mark XIV bombsights, it is possible to carry out a full analysis by means of bombing grouping which reveals clearly where bombing faults lie.
These faults may be classified in three categories (a) bombing errors due to bombsight inaccuracies or unserviceability (b) vector errors (c) errors of pure bombing attributed to the pilot/air bomber team and caused by inaccurate flying, faulty bombsight settings and bombsight levelling, imperfect co-operation on the bombing run and various other personal factors.
The errors under (a) can be discovered by careful analysis of grouping exercises and must be eliminated completely. Those under (b) are now the joint responsibility of pilot and navigator. Flying for windfinding must be completely accurate and every care is to be taken by navigators to ensure the calculated wind is as accurate as conditions permit. Analysis has proved that in almost every exercise faulty windfinding is largely responsible for the bombing errors obtained.
After (a) and (b) have been removed we come to the Grouping error (c) which can be steadily reduced by a thorough understanding of bombing problems and true co-operation on the bombing run between pilot and air-bomber.
With the present percentage of Mark XIV bombsights in Squadron aircraft, it should now be possible for all competition details to be carried out with that sight, and the results of all such details in October are to be submitted as Grouping errors, in either of the following categories:-
(i) CLOSE GROUP
(ii) As open group if bombsight error is directly attributable to mechanical fault in the Bomb Sight which could not be detected by the Bomb Aimer in his pre-bombing check.
N.B. Bombs forming an OPEN GROUP pattern around an M.P.I. where the error from M.P.I. to the inner radius of the open group is attributable to Bomb Aimer’s negligence in N.F.T. check.
e.g. Drift de-synchronisation
Wring T.V. setting
Incorrect Level Readings etc.
MUST be returned as CLOSE GROUP error being from M.P.I. to inner radius of CLOSE GROUP pattern.
Now that all Mark XIV exercises in which four or more bombs are dropped are to be carried out as Grouping exercises, the following points are to be borne in mind:-
(i) All crews must carry bombing pro formae for bombing details
(ii) The position where bombs fall is to be estimated by the air bomber and plotted in pencil on the plotting rose.
(iii) On landing, the bombing leader is to plot the position of the bombs from the quadrant readings, and transfer the plots
/to the plotting rose…
[Page break]
to the plotting rose of the bombing pro-forma in coloured pencil.
(iv) Pilot, Navigator, Air Bomber and Flight Engineer are to take the form and make an analysis of the exercise.
(v) This analysis is to be checked and amended as necessary by the Bombing Leader and Bombing Officer.
(vi) The captain of the crew is to keep all pro-formae used for future reference.
The results submitted in weekly returns are to be the Grouping errors (c) on all MKXIV exercises, but when a wind velocity is found by the Navigator his vector error is to be noted in a book and kept for future reference. Similarly, bombsight errors are to be noted and rectified where necessary by the instrument section.
The results given in the bombing training table are not a true representation of bombing in the past month, as grouping and application errors are inextricably intermingled and in many cases incorrectly compiled returns failed to differentiate between the bombsights used.
Next month’s ‘News’ should give a true picture of the training carried out. Already we are discovering where our bombing failures lie, and it is only by rigid adherence to the new system that we can hope for a tangible improvement in the operational success of our bombing sorties.
[Boxed] [Underlined] STOP PRESS GUNNERY. [/underlined]
All aircraft claimed by the Group for September have now been confirmed by Headquarters,Bomber Command. [/boxed]
[Page break]
[Boxed] DECORATIONS. [/boxed]
[Underlined] THE FOLLOWING IMMEDIATE AWARDS WERE APPROVED DURING THE MONTH OF SEPTEMBER, 1943. [/underlined]
9 SQUADRON
P/O. J. McGUBBIN. DFC
44 SQUADRON
F/O. A.E.H. PARSONS. DFC
F/O. G.G. PASCOE. DFC
F/O. L.W. PILGRIM. DFC
F/O. H.J. BARLEY. DFC
P/O. H. ROGERS. DFC
106 SQUADRON
SGT. N.L.E. GALE. DFM
SGT. A.J. SARGEANT. DFM
[Underlined] THE FOLLOWINF NON-IMMEDIATE AWARDS WERE APPROVED DURING THE MONTH OF SEPTEMBER, 1943. [/underlined]
9 SQUADRON
W/CDR. P. BURNETT. DFC
F/LT. C.A. PATTERN, MBE. DFC
F/O. C.A. HALE. DFC
P/O. J. BOCZAR. DFC
P/O. J.P.H. CARRERE. DFC
SGT. R.V. PIPER. DFM
SGT. J.W. VINALL. DFM
44 SQUADRON
F/LT. R.D. ROBINSON. DFC
F/O. A.A. ST.CLAIR-MILLER. DFC
F/O. D.F.H. WALKER. DFC
F/O. W.J. HILTON. DFC
P/O. H. DUTTON. DFC
P/O. J.O. PENNINGTON. DFC
P/O. HEWITT. DFC
SGT. D. MORRISON. DFM
SGT. L.B. HAYWARD. DFM
SGT. G. HOMEWOOD. DFM
49 SQUADRON
W/CDR. P.W. JOHNSON, AFC. DFC
F/O. S.H. MANSBRIDGE. DFC
F/O. R.C. MUNRO. DFC
F/O. T.D. TAYLOR. DFC
F/O. L.R. HASTINGS. DFC
F/O. L.H. TOLCHARD. DFC
P/O. J.T. TAYLOR. DFC
P/O. B.C. DREAVER. DFC
50 SQUADRON
F/O. G.B. MURTOUGH. DFC
F/O. R.M. METHIESON. DFC
F/O. C.F. BONEFIELD. DFC
F/O. T.E. TANDLE. DFC
P/O. J.O. CHRISTIE. DFC
P/O. H.C. BERNARD. DFC
F/SGT. A.C. PARSONS. DFM
F/SGT. A.J. CORK. DFM
SGT. A. BRANSON. DFM
SGT. G. CABLE. DFM
SGT. W. MOONEY. DFM
57 SQUADRON
F/LT. J.C. ANDERSON. DFC
F/O. F. CARTER, DFM. DFC
F/O. E.W. PATTERSON. DFC
F/O. E.W. ADAMS. DFC
F/O. C. SHAW. DFC
2ND. LT. J.E. RUSSELL (USAAF). DFC
2ND. LT. R. WRIGHT (USAAF). DFC
P/O. C.A. MACDONALD. DFC
W/O. J. TOUGH. DFC
W/O. E.T. ENGLISH. DFC
F/SGT. R.W. LORELL. DFM
F/SGT. A.B. WELFORD. DFM
F/SGT. R. ROBERTS, DFM. BAR
SGT. S.J. MONDEL. DFM
61 SQUADRON
W/CDR. W.M. PENMAN. DFC
S/LDR. S.A. BENJAMIN. DFC
F/O. R.H. WILLIAMS. DFC
F/O. J. CRAVEN DFC
[Missing] FROST. DFC
[Remainder of page corner missing]
61 SQUADRON (Continued)
SGT. C.D. TOWSE. DFM
SGT. A.C. MULLINS. DFM
106 SQUADRON
F/LT. R LODGE. DFC
F/LT. W.D. BROWNE. DFC
F/O. G.T. HARDEN. DFC
P/O. J.A.C. MUNRO. DFC
P/O. J.E. CAMPBELL. DFC
W/O. T.R. KWILL. DFC
F/SGT. G.N. FELTHAM. DFM
F/SGT. G.W. CHRISTIE. DFM
207 SQUADRON
F/O. K.H.F. LETFORD. DFC
F/O. K.T. KNIGHT. DFC
F/O. F.G. SPANNER. DFC
P/O. F.M.H. FISHER. DFC
P/O. C. SUTTOR. DFC
SGT. E.D. LUCAN. DFM
207 SQUADRON (Continued)
SGT. G.T.C. BASSFORD. DFM
SGT. R. NUTTON. DFM
467 SQUADRON
S/LDR. E.K. SINCLAIR. DFC
F/O. R. McCURDY. DFC
F/O. G.D. CURRIE. DFC
F/O. T.W. HOPPETT. DFC
F/SGT. W.H. WHITE. DFM
SGT. S.R. ANDERSON. DFM
617 SQUADRON
W/CDR. G.P. GIBSON, VC, DSO, DFC. LEGION OF MERIT. (DEGREE OF COMMANDER)
619 SQUADRON
F/SGT. W.L. VADER-DASSON. DFM
SGT. D.J. COOMBES. DFM
[Boxed] PHOTOGRAPHY [/boxed] TECHNICAL EXPERT
DECLARE WAR ON “SMOKE OBLITERATION.”
Successful ground photographs, which were of immediate operational value, total 204 this month. Whilst there is a slight reduction in the percentage of success it is still good when it is considered that the presence of cloud and smoke over targets provide conditions which are anything but conductive to good night photography.
It is ironical that the very subject which has done so much towards the improvement of bombing should now be the one which is suffering from its effects.
Obtaining good night pictures of ground detail over targets is now almost impossible when large numbers of incendiaries are used, but the camera remains the one and only proof of bombing concentration. Fire track pictures, coupled with a few ground detail photographs, provide a very true picture of a bombing attack and from these fire track pictures, those responsible for assessing operations are able to gain a very good idea as to the degree of success of a particular raid.
In the meantime research is being made to combat the factor of smoke obliteration. Every effort is being made to improve the technical equipment so that ground detail is recorded despite the adverse conditions over the targets. We have already done much in the past few months towards this aim. For instance, the introduction of the American clockwork fuse which has proved so accurate and has permitted the reduction of “open frame time” in the camera from a second to within the region of three seconds, has solved the problem of fire track obliteration
From the analysis of results this month it will be observed that there were comparatively few actual technical faults. Other than the small percentage of flash failures and camera maintenance faults, the chief cause of failures spears to be unsatisfactory bomb firing button. This button has now been modified, but it is still necessary for the Air Bomber to press the button as far as possible to ensure positive contact for camera operation.
Manipulation faults on the part of Aircrews have again decreased in number, but there are still far too many failures due to camera leads being out at the time of bombing. As mentioned in last months’ NEWS it would greatly assist if Air Bombers would check all Cameraleads [sic] and any which are out of sockets should be replaced and upon return from operations the fact should be reported. In this connection a modification is now being produced which will prevent camera leads from the control being removed accidentally.
[Table of Analysis of Results by Squadron]
[Boxed] [Cartoon] QUINTUS QUINCE THE V GROUP ACE SAYS:- “MY GUNNER IS A [underlined] HUMAN [/underlined] ‘MONICA’” [/boxed]
PAGE 5.
[Page break]
[Boxed] ENGINEERING. [/boxed] INSPECTION DIFFICULTIES OVERCOME BY HARD WORK.
All Squadrons being well below establishment in aircraft find it difficult to stagger inspection, as in many cases 100 per cent aircraft are used for each operation. This obviously brings the inspection round rapidly, and three or four more inspections become due at one time. This has made planning very difficult and Squadrons are to be congratulated on the manner in which the work has been carried out. Although the aircraft situation is improving, a somewhat similar state of affairs will exist for the most part of October and we are relying on Squadrons to keep up the good work and even intensify their efforts where possible to produce the effort in spite of the aircraft shortage. Due to certain Squadrons outside this Group re-arming it has meant Squadrons being allocated old aircraft thrown up as a result. This is never a pleasant position, as new aircraft are always more acceptable than old, but the way Squadrons have “tightened their belts” and got down to rendering these old aircraft serviceable to our standards without any undue complaint, reflects a very good spirit. Certain ex-Cat B which have had to be accepted put a great strain on the maintenance personnel, but it is hoped that there will not be many more of these unless they are fully modified prior to receipt.
With the lengthening of the nights and the aircraft being diverted or landing away from Base, it is often long after midday by the time the aircraft returns to its parent unit. This leaves very little time to prepare it for operations again that night. This cannot be helped and so speed is absolutely essential.
Often aircraft are damaged by enemy action and land away from Base. They may be Cat. ‘A’ or ‘AC’. Wherever possible, Engineer Officers are to send a representative down to examine these aircraft with a view to carrying out temporary repairs to fly them back to Base for the completion of the repair. So much time and labour is saved by carrying out the repair at the Parent Unit whether it be Cat. ‘A’ or ‘AC’.
[Boxed] ENGINES [/boxed]
Exhaust stud failures are not on the decline and further sets of trepanning tools are being made available. This is obviously only a palliative: the answer lies in the fitting of a more suitable type of stud and it is hoped that before long we will have the 3.5 per cent nickel steel stud which has given very good service on its trials.
All Lancaster III’s with Merlin 28’s and 38’s and Lancaster I’s with Merlin 22’s are now modified to Mod. 1087 and adjusted to 14lbs. boost for take-off. It is pleasing to note that power plant changes are being speeded up generally throughout the Group and it is only by quick thinking and speedy organisation that repairs and power plant changes can be accomplished in quick time.
[Boxed] MAN POWER [/boxed]
All Squadrons are now working much below establishment and this calls for most economical use of the man power available. The sending of a ground crew to dinner at 1230 while their aircraft is in the air is an example of how N.C.O’s i/c Flights can employ their resources more usefully.
All Electrical Officers will by now have become acquainted with the Mk.XIV Bombsight Group Servicing Van. It has already proved its usefulness and has cleared the few minor snags so far encountered on the A.P.I./A.M.U. and the Mk.XIV Bombsight.
The fitting of the Mk.XIV is proceeding in a very satisfactory manner and only 44 aircraft remain to be fitted. Every assistance should be afforded to the fitting parties in order to finish these aircraft before the end of the month, since the training of Air Bombers on the A.B.S. has ceased.
Most of the available A.P.I./A.M.U’s have now been fitted and are giving very satisfactory results. The accuracy of this aid to Navigation and other instruments depends to a large extent on the D.R. Compass, the maintenance of which must be kept on “top line”. Resistance units for the D.R. Compass Master Unit are coming through slowly and it is hoped that all Units will be supplied to their requirements in the near future.
[Boxed] SQUADRON SERVICEABILITY [/boxed]
[Table of aircraft serviceability by Squadron] [/boxed]
[Boxed] CONVERSION UNIT SERVICEABILITY
[Table of aircraft serviceability by Unit] [/boxed]
[Boxed] [Underlined] ARMAMENT CONFERENCE [/underlined]
[Boxed] ARMAMENT. [/boxed] GOOD NEWS OF HANDLING TACKLE.
With the increased weight of bombs it has been apparent that a means of handling these heavier type weapons had to be accomplished. The rolling technique was introduced and up to the present has not proved successful compatible with the speed of handling required. The super type lorry crane known as the “COLES” is in limited supply and its use divided between all Branches on Stations.
All available forms of lifting and handling tackle were recently demonstrated at R.A.F. Station Binbrook, and at the meeting held following this demonstration it was agreed that some form of crane was a necessity and it was not imperative that it should be a prime mover. It was decided that a type known as the Neal Rapid Mobile Crane Type N. would satisfy Armament requirements and a trial was immediately arranged for one of these type cranes to be put on one week’s trial at East Kirkby. This trial has proved entirely successful and we now await further supplies.
[Boxed] SBC FILLING, HANDLING AND STORAGE [/boxed]
With the introduction of the heavier type of SBC known as the Mk. VA (150 x 4lb.) certain preparation and loading problems have arisen. The man handling of the SBC weighing some 657 lbs. when filled, presents a difficulty likewise does the filling. It is apparent that a standardised procedure is a necessity. Several schemes showing promise are at present being investigated on Units within the Group, details and results are eagerly awaited.
[Boxed] BOMB LOADS INCREASED INCENDIARY [/boxed]
Standard bomb loads giving all the necessary details of Bomb Stations, Pre-selector settings, Peg Hole and time interval and false height settings are in the course of preparation and their issue to all Units will be completed early in the month.
[Boxed] “WHITLOCK” TWIN ADAPTORS [/boxed]
Production of the “Whitlock” adaptor is progressing slowly but surely and a limited number have been diverted to this Group by Headquarters No. 1 Group. It is anticipated that with the commencement of production by other manufacturers all Units within the Group will be equipped by the end of this month, thus ensuring that a standard bomb load can be ordered for all aircraft.
[Boxed] CAMOUFLAGE STATION BOMB STORES [/boxed]
This type of camouflage has been the “headache” of Armament Officers for some time past, and authority has been received for its removal in bomb stored at the discretion of Station Commanders.
[Boxed] AFTER ESCAPE HATCH [/boxed]
The fitment of flare chutes, H.2.S., F.N. 64 Turrets and the .5” under defence gun, all centre around the bung.
Aircraft fitted H.2.S. are being fitted tricell as the modification parts become available, whilst the armoured chute remains fitted to non H.2.S. aircraft. With the introduction of the .5” under defence gun the single flare chute will take a new position to be decided after trial installation. In all Squadrons except three 75 per cent F.N.64 Turrets are being withdrawn.
[Boxed] [Underlined] “BOMBFOOLERIES”. [/underlined]
[Underlined] PHOTOFLASH HANG-UP. [/underlined]
Air Bomber failed to select switch.
[TURRET DOORS FAILED TO CLOSE [/underlined]
Rear Gunner damaged door runner.
[Underlined] ARTICULATING PIPE [/underlined]
Fracture – due to obstruction. [/boxed]
[Boxed] FAILURES TABLE
[Table of failure types by Squadron] [/boxed] [Bottom right hand corner missing]
The monthly Armament Conference was held at Waddington. Minutes have been circulated. [/boxed]
5 GROUP NEWS. NO. 14. SEPTEMBER, 1943.
[Page break]
[Boxed] NAVIGATION [/boxed] MINIMUM GAIN FOR BEST RECEPTION
BREAKDOWN OF D.R. AFTER LEAVING TARGET
VALUABLE GROUND TRAINING.
This month’s Navigation on the whole was satisfactory, although the general standard was not as high as the preceding month’s. D.R. Navigation and allied calculations showed a considerable improvement but concentration and accurate timing at turning points did not move in parallel. On the homeward journey the chief cause of spread when reaching GEE Range is found in the initial stages after leaving the target. Most navigators do not take full advantage of the target as a pin-point. The trouble begins after “Photoflash Gone” when for the next few minutes there appears to be a complete disregard of courses and true air speed flown. This means that over 5 or 6 minutes, an aircraft may be 20 or 30 miles away from its intended position at that time, and thus the initial error creeps in. The first 5 -10 minutes flying out of the target are most important in Navigation, and if concentration and track keeping is to be maintained, the Navigator must ensure that an accurate timed run is made from “Flash Gone” to the turning point. The average indicated air speed and course flown during this run must be carefully watched, and the next course set from D.R. position - initial displacement of position after leaving the target is certainly responsible for aircraft being out of concentration and off the prescribed track when out of GEE coverage.
[Boxed] TRAINING [/boxed]
During the month’s training period most Navigators put in some good ground work and were able to brush up on certain navigational problems. It is hoped that when these training periods are arranged all Navigators will do their utmost to increase efficiency and apply the ground training to this end. You are primarily concerned with the problem of keeping the aircraft on the prescribed track at the right time, and supplying the Air Bomber with an accurate bombing wind – this requires constant practice and, above all, accuracy in calculation.
[Boxed] WIND FINDING FOR PRACTICE BOMBING [/boxed]
Until recently most Navigators were not fully alive to the fact that they are vital members of the bombing team. In the past, many approximations and inaccuracies have been made by the Navigator when finding a practice bombing wind - this has had a corresponding effect on bombing accuracy. Simple appreciation of bombing errors will prove the necessity for accurate wind finding. If an inaccurate wind is set on the bombsight, the Air Bomber’s difficulty in tracking on to the target is increased, and bombing errors will result out of all proportion to the wind vector error. The Navigator is responsible for navigating the aircraft, [underlined] and [/underlined] for providing an accurate wind to the Air Bomber, if the aiming point is to be hit. EVERY EFFORT MUST BE MADE TO INCREASE OUR BOMBING ACCURACY.
[Boxed] SPECIAL MENTION [/boxed]
F/Sgt. Lawes,C.M. of 207 Squadron, produced excellent work during the month and particularly on a recent mining sortie in the Baltic. On this occasion F/Sgt Lawes produced no less than 18 good wind velocity checks, six good Polaris position lines, and one 1st class Astro fix. This log and chart have been forwarded to H.Q.B.C. for potential publication. [/boxed]
[Boxed] [Underlined] NAVIGATIONAL QUIZ [/underlined]
1. Your W/T, R/T, I.F.F. and TR.1196 are all U/S. What radio facility is still available for contacting ground ?
2. What is the maximum shift in wind direction over likely to be experienced at 15,000 feet when flying over a distance of 50 miles ?
3. In what order from South to North should the following be placed:-
Hull, Hamberg, Wilhelmshaven, Manchester, Stettin, Dublin, Bremen.
[Missing] which airfield in 5 Group does the Greenwich hour [missing] equal the local hour angle ?
[Missing] on the D.R. Master Unit compensated [missing P.I.
[Missing] be set at night if the [missing] U/S and all radio [missing] [/boxed]
[Boxed] FLYING CONTROL.
[Table of aircraft landing times after operations by Station]
MONTHLY AVERAGE FOR THE GROUP – 3.67 MINUTES
Syerston still lead the Group in landing aircraft quickly after operations. It is hoped, in the near future, to put to practical test several quick landing schemes which are now in preparation. Suggestions from Stations, on the question of quick landings, will be welcomed. [/boxed]
[Underlined] A.P.I’s [/underlined]
During the month, many Navigators became proficient in the operational use of A.P.I. – this instrument is already proving the value of knowing an aircraft’s true position. Interesting analysis is being carried out on certain Squadrons showing the discrepancy between the plotted, and actual air positions. In most cases the fault seems to lie in the Navigator’s faulty computation of true air speed, and his failure to check the true course, and indicated air speed more frequently. One suggestion is, that the latitude and longitude of 2 A.P.I. readings be plotted about 6 minutes apart and compared with the D.R. calculations. This method will give the true air speed and true course flown, on which E.T.A’s and Ground speed can easily be calculated.
[Boxed] THIS MONTH’S NAVIGATION “PRUNERY” [/boxed]
During the month a sortie was abandoned for the following reasons:-
1. THE PILOT AND NAVIGATOR THOUGHT THEY WERE FLYING ON A STATIC VENT AIRCRAFT – THIS WAS NOT SO !!!
2. THE NAVIGATOR APPLIED COMPASS DEVIATION IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION AND GAVE THE PILOT TWO COURSES TO STEER WHICH AFTERWARDS PROVED TO BE 6 DEGREES OUT.THE COMBINATION OF THESE ERRORS RESULTED IN A LARGE ERROR BETWEEN THE PLOTTED AND ACTUAL AIR POSITION – THIS MEANT THAT WIND VELOCITIES WERE FOUND TO BE OVER 100 MILES PER HR.
If these careless mistakes had not been made this Navigator would have found a wind velocity of 255 degrees 70 miles per hour which was in agreement with the post-met winds.
[Underlined] GEE [/underlined]
During September very varied results have been received on different raids. The exact difference in ranges on different dates are now difficult to assess owing to the new method used in reporting. It is certain that GEE is still providing the most valuable aid to Navigators.
The enemy is now concentrating on transmitting “noise” which is proving as much a nuisance as the previous sine waves and railings. Some noise is always present if a gain has turned up over England, but a special transmitting grass would appear with low gain. This means that over the jamming areas, signals all tend to disappear into the grass as the distance from the transmitters increases. To combat this the Navigator is tempted to increase the gain so as to increase the signal strength. Instead of increasing signal strength, the result is increased grass which swamps all signals.
It is not necessarily weak signals which limit range but the grass signal ratio – if this ratio is kept low then the range will increase – and it can only be kept low by working with the lowest possible gain. Therefore, as a general rule always use [underlined] minimum gain [/underlined] and keep the focus and transference adjusted to meet the reduced gain.
[Boxed] [Underlined] LATTICE CHARTS [/underlined]
Command have decided that the I/M Miniature Lattice Charts shall become available for the Main force aircraft. These will not be issued immediately, for charts are not yet printed in quantity. When they are issued all charts for Series 2, 3 and 5 will be contained in one book conveniently folded. (Series 4 Charts which are rarely used in this Group will continue to be issued as large sheets). Each Navigator can then carry his own book of charts covering all likely areas, and it is thought that this system will be more convenient to use in the air.
The similarity of scales between Lattice and Plotting Charts will make the transference of a fix from one to the other much easier. [/boxed]
GEOGRAPHY Few of us liked Geography at school because so much of what we had to learn had no bearing on our lives. We knew of the Alps as a mountain range somewhere North of Italy, but did they ever become real until that night when we staggered back through cloud on three engines and silently prayed that we were on track ? What were the islands of Holland until we passed over them and joyfully put the nose down for home ?
War has made us all place and name conscious, but do we make the most of our opportunities ? Every sortie should add to our knowledge of Eurpoe [sic] and beyond: the shape of the land, its mountains, its rivers and lakes, its cities. Develop a habit of studying the earth over which you fly. Try to memorise your topographical maps. Your knowledge may come in useful if you ever have to walk back. [boxed]
PAGE 7.
[Page break]
OPERATIONS BAD WEATHER INTERVENES
NAZI WAR MACHINE SLOWING DOWN.
The month’s total of sorties (915) shows a very considerable decrease on last month’s record figure of 1507. This was entirely due to circumstances which are always beyond our control – a bad patch of weather from the 7th. to the 22nd. of the month, which limited the number of sorties to 28 of which 8 were recalled before reaching the target. The number of targets attacked during the month is, therefore, not an imposing one, but we are doing our best at the present moment to make up for lost time. In passing it may be of interest to recall our own experience in 1940/41, that the return of large scale bombing after a lull has an even more depressing effect on morale than an unbroken “Blitz”.
[Boxed] INDUSTRIAL TARGETS [/boxed]
Apart from one attack on Berlin, a special small scale operation in Southern France and two nights of Gardening, the month’s targets have all been industrial centres in Western and South Western Germany. Mannheim and Hannover were both attacked twice, Munich and Bochum once each. The percentage of successful attacks (89.1) is again very satisfactory; the percentage of lost aircraft (4.4) rather higher than usual, though it may be noted that four raids alone counted for 77 pre cent of our casualties.
[Boxed] BERLIN [/boxed]
The raid on Berlin on 3/4th. was a good one: the luck of the weather was with us and a providential gap in the clouds enabled a concentrated attack to be carried out. Once again the Western and South Western parts of the city suffered the most, and while the excited and extravagant accounts of neutral reporters must be taken with a large amount of salt, there is no doubt that severe damage, most of it industrial, has been inflicted on the areas of Berlin roughly corresponding to Hammersmith and Wandsworth and a severe shock has been administered to the Berlin morale at the end of the first round of the Battle of Berlin: one of the most important results of this is that a large scale evacuation of the city, which started after the raids on Hamburg, has been considerably speeded up.
The raid on Mannheim on the 6/7th. was carried out in excellent visibility, and a strong attack developed. Photographs taken on the 7th. and 9th. show that severe damage was caused on both sides of the river, and that several important factories were hit. The weather for Munich the next night was not so good, but after a scattered start two good concentration of fires were started and particularly large explosions reported.
[Boxed] A SPECIAL OPERATION [/boxed]
On the night of 16/17th. 5 Group were entrusted with the task of attempting to destroy the viaduct at Antheor near Cannes, which carries one of the main railway lines between France and Italy. At the same time, other aircraft of Bomber Command struck at the marshalling yards at Modane, where the other French-Italian line enters the Mt. Cenis tunnel. It was hoped that by this double blow to impede the flow of reinforcements to the Germans in Italy at a time when they might most desperately be needed. The viaduct was n extremely difficult target and well defended by Nature against air attack, and in spite of the most careful planning and organisation , and the close proximity of some of the bombs, only slight damage was done to the target.
[Boxed] GERMAN WAR PRODUCTION REDUCED [/boxed]
After another lull the month finished up with a series of large scale attacks. Hannover was attacked in great strength on the night of 27/28th. On neither occasion did the full weight of the attack fall on the centre of the city, but two important factories on the outskirts received very severe damage. Mannheim was strongly attacked on the night of 23/24th., the weight of the attack falling on the Southern parts of the city and Bochum on the night 29/30th. got a good hammering. All these attacks were pressed home in the face of very determined opposition, which however, never succeeded in upsetting the pre-conceived plan of attack, in spite of German claims to the contrary, nor in preventing the major part of the bomber force getting through. Already German war production is about 25 per cent below normal as a result of our air attacks, and if the present scale of attack is maintained it will soon drop to a level, below which, so the economists say, the German war machine will no longer be able to function. With every raid that day grows closer and closer.
[Boxed] [Rolls Royce logo] ROLLS ROYCE. (CONTINUED)
[Circled] From Page 1 Col. 1 [/circled]
94 of them more recently took part in the 5 Group daylight raid on the Schneider Works at Le Creuset far into the heart of France, 93 of them returned, 376 Merlin engines, well over half a million reliable horse power. It has also been chosen for use in the Mosquito reconnaissance bomber, which made it bow to the public following on the spectacular daylight raid on Quisling’s Headquarters in Oslo.
It is not, of course, possible to divulge particulars of the numbers of Merlin engines being produced. It is an established fact that during the last War the Derby Rolls-Royce factory was responsible for the output of more aero engine horse power than all the remaining British Manufacturers combined. The same spirit and quality of product is very evident during the present conflict, and the total Merlin Horse power produced so far has already reached the staggering figure of over 54 millions. [/boxed]
[Boxed] GARDENING:-
On 2nd. September, 15 Lancasters planted 90 vegetables off the Frisians. The operation was uneventful but was a useful contribution to the plastering of this area, which is going steadily on, and which, together with the strafing of shipping by Fighter and Coastal Commands is making life a misery for the enemy’s convoys and steadily cutting down his available tonnage.
Gardening has always produced the highest yield of casualties in the Baltic. It is the only way in which we can get at the enemy’s shipping there and also at the U-boats in their training grounds. Most of the German fleet, except those ships in Norway, is also in harbours in the Easter Baltic. On this occasion it was appreciated from previous sighting reports that the Lutzow was due in the area from Norway. As usual, we shall have to wait to hear the results but there is no doubt that the perseverance of the crews in making the long trip and getting mines down in the right spot in the face of considerable opposition caused great alarm and despondency as an immediate effect and the Admiralty expressed great satisfaction at the success of the operation. [/boxed]
FOREWORD by A.O.C. (CONTINUED.)
well-trained and determined crew whose errors on operations may be little greater.
Every crew in this Group must think bombing, talk bombing and practice bombing until it has an error from 10,000 feet of less than 100 yards; and there is no reason why this standard should not be achieved provided:-
1. The Air Bomber takes a personal interest in the sight and ensures that any bombing errors due to faulty adjustments in the mechanism of the sight are immediately put right by the instrument repair staff.
2. Pilot and Navigator work together so that the wind velocity found by GEE fix has a vector error not exceeding 7 miles per hour. They must study and apply the new 5 Group instructions on wind finding by GEE fixes.
3. Pilot and Air Bomber take the aircraft over the target without skid, bearing in mind that at 20,000 feet one degree of skid introduces an error of 100 yards, and there are many pilots who are unable to make small turns without skid.
4. Finally, the Captain exercises supervision over the bombing team and insists that every bombing detail is fully analysed and the causes of errors understood and rectified. That means hard work and enthusiasm.
I repeat that a crew who, with practice bombs, can achieve an error not exceeding 100 yards from 10,000 feet has shown that it takes bombing seriously, and there is no reason why, with normal luck, it should not achieve similar results on operations. Every trip by this crew will contribute to victory.
When the whole Group can put down its bombs with this accuracy the spread of the attack will be no more than the spread of the T.I’s and should be less because the aiming point is the centre of those T.I’s which are visible.
The spread of the incendiary attack must be reduced. I give that as No. 1 problem facing the Group. If it can be solved – as I believe it can – it will represent the biggest single contribution to Victory of which the Group is capable. The first step is to realise that good bombing is the result of good team work un which Pilot, Air Bomber, Navigator and Instrument Repairer all play essential parts. The second that precision bombing means precision work by each member of the team. The third is that there is no time to waste.
B.B.C. VISIT TO 5 GROUP – “AN OUTSTANDING BROADCAST.”
On the night of the 3/4th. September, Mr. Vaughan Thomas and Mr. Reginald Pidsley, both of the B.B.C., made a recording of the raid over the German capital.
How ‘F’ for Font, the Lancaster in which they were flying was attacked by a fighter over Berlin with the result that the gunners of the recording aircraft shot down their opponent, is well known to listeners all over the world.
Within three hours of landing, the B.B.C. men were speeding back to London with their precious discs.
The recordings of the trip were broadcast three times in the English programmes and on innumerable European and Foreign transmissions. It is interesting to note that the Blue Network in the United States cancelled its prog [missing] to have this recording on Sunday, [missing] described as the outstanding [missing] war.
This month [rest of this page corner is missing]
GROUP NEWS. No. 14.
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V Group News, September 1943
5 Group News, September 1943
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Five Group Newsletter, number 14, September 1943. Includes a foreword by the Air Officer Commanding, an article on the Rolls Royce Merlin and features about training, signals, gunnery, accidents, bombing, decorations, photography, engineering, armament, navigation, flying control, operations, and a BBC broadcast from 5 Group.
In accordance with the conditions stipulated by the donor, this item is available only at the University of Lincoln.
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IBCC Digital Archive
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1943-10-13
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Anne-Marie Watson
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10 printed sheets
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eng
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MStephensonS1833673-160205-21
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
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CC BY-NC 4.0 International license
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Germany
Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Mannheim
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1943-09
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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.
106 Squadron
1654 HCU
1660 HCU
1661 HCU
1668 HCU
207 Squadron
44 Squadron
467 Squadron
49 Squadron
5 Group
50 Squadron
57 Squadron
61 Squadron
617 Squadron
619 Squadron
9 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
bomb aimer
bombing
crash
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
flight engineer
Gee
Gibson, Guy Penrose (1918-1944)
ground personnel
Heavy Conversion Unit
incendiary device
Lancaster
mine laying
navigator
pilot
propaganda
RAF Waddington
RAF Wainfleet
rivalry
take-off crash
training
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/711/17244/PBlairJJ1601.2.jpg
b18daf6de085568915936370a3ddc383
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Blair, John
John Jericho Blair
J J Blair
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An account of the resource
38 items. The collection concerns John Jericho Blair DFC (1919-2004). He was born in Jamaica and served in RAF from 1942-1963. He flew a tour of operations as a navigator with 102 Squadron from RAF Pocklington. The collection includes numerous photographs of him and colleagues, several photographs of Jamaica, a document detailing his life and an interview with his great nephew Mark Johnson.
The collection also contains three interviews with Caribbean veterans including John Blair recorded by Mark Johnson.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Mark Johnson and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2016-05-09
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
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Blair, JJ
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Permission granted for commercial projects
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Title
A name given to the resource
Arthur Young
Description
An account of the resource
Head and shoulders portrait of Arthur in uniform with sergeant's stripes and Air Gunner's brevet. Submitted with caption: 'Arthur Young. Born in Cardiff he was killed in the crash of the "Salford Lancaster" on 30 July 1944, returning from an operation on German positions in Normandy'.
Format
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One b/w photograph
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Photograph
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PBlairJJ1601
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
Wales--Cardiff
France
France--Normandy
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-07-30
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. 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
Language
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eng
106 Squadron
African heritage
air gunner
aircrew
crash
killed in action
Lancaster
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/899/18593/OJacksonN905192-171130-010001.1.pdf
91021579a687fec4baed1e17bcd25cd4
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/899/18593/OJacksonN905192-171130-010002.1.pdf
a385e1e7a250a6eea3112b005853d0de
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
Jackson, Norman
N Jackson
Description
An account of the resource
Four items. An oral history interview with David Jackson about his father Norman Jackson VC (1919 - 1994), his service record and two photographs.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by David Jackson and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-11-30
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Jackson, N
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Norman Jackson's Service Record
RAF Form 543
Description
An account of the resource
Covering his service between 20 Oct 1939 and 13 May 1946. Form a replacement compiled on 5 Jan 1953.
This item was sent to the IBCC Digital Archive already in digital form. No better quality copies are available.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1953-01-05
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Two printed sheets with handwritten annotations
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Log book and record book
Identifier
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OJacksonN905192-171130-010001,
OJacksonN905192-171130-010002
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
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
106 Squadron
1654 HCU
27 OTU
95 Squadron
Heavy Conversion Unit
missing in action
Operational Training Unit
prisoner of war
RAF Halton
RAF Uxbridge
training
Victoria Cross
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/483/19134/BBullockWEJBullockWEJv1.2.pdf
c6610ae666cf526b25116a161780062b
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Bullock, William
William Edward James Bullock
W E J Bullock
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
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Bullock, WEJ
Description
An account of the resource
Two items. An oral history interview with Flight Lieutenant William Bullock (1916 - 2017, 566069 Royal Air Force) and a memoir. He served in Egypt and Iraq before serving as an engineering officer at RAF East Kirkby and Coningsby.
The collection has been licenced to the IBCC Digital Archive by William Bullock and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
Bits & Pieces from a Long Career – William Edward James Bullock (Bill)
I joined the RAF on 6 September 1932 shortly before my 16th birthday, as a Halton Aircraft Apprenticeship, to be trained as an Aircraft Fitter. Training over, I was posted in July 1935 to No 13 Army Coop Squadron at Old Sarum, just north of Salisbury. No 16 AC Squadron, and the School of Army Coop, were also based there. Although we were closely linked to the Army, Sarum kept ship’s time. The times for changing the watch were rung on a big ship’s bell hanging outside the Guard Room. We even took a bell with us on joint manoeuvres with the Army. This was no doubt a legacy from the days of the Royal Naval Air Service, forerunner of the RFC and RAF.
I was posted to No 4 Flying Training School at Abu Sueir in Egypt in March 1937. This was a ‘desert station’ 12 miles west of Ismailia, a small town on the west bank of the Suez Canal. During my two and a half years there I enjoyed sand yacht racing, also sailing on Lake Timsah near Ismailia. I did the usual tourist sights – Cairo Museum housing all the King Tutankhamen exhibits etc, and out to Gizeh to see the Pyramids and Sphinx. I could not climb the 450-foot Great Pyramid of Cheops as a sand storm was blowing, but I spent time exploring inside.
With the threat of war looming, No 4 FTS was moved to Iraq to the big RAF base at Habbaniya, on the west bank of the River Euphrates, 55 miles west of Baghdad. From here I got to see the ruins of Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar’s Palace etc, and also the remains of The Hanging Gardens, one of the Seven Wonders of the World. For some time the Iraqi Government had been plotting with Germany to get the British out of Iraq and let in the Germans, especially promising them the Habbaniya base. This would have given Germany access to the oil supplies of Iraq and Iran, a crippling blow to the Allies. Negotiations and threats having failed to move us, the Iraqi Army moved up overnight on the 29 April 1941 and occupied the Plateau, a large 200 foot high ridge of ground less than a mile from the camp. An aerial survey on the 30 April showed that there were 27 field guns and howitzers trained down on the camp, supported by armoured cars and light tanks, assembled there with an estimated 2,000 troops, and more guns could be seen coming from Baghdad.
Meanwhile No 4 FTS had been busily converting its trainer aircraft to act as bombers. A mixture of 28 planes could carry 2x250lb bombs, and another 36 could carry just 8x20lb anti-personnel bombs. As we could only muster 39 pilots from all sources, including the Embassy in Baghdad, we could not deploy the full strength of our bombers at the same time. However we had the support of ten Wellington bombers operating from Shaibah, near Basra, 300 miles south, plus nine Gladiator single-seat fighters loaned to us, with pilots, from Egypt.
Our bombers took to the air at first light and circled the Plateau then, at precisely 5am on 2 May, started bombing. The Iraqi Army immediately started shelling the camp with all their guns, aiming mostly at the hangar area from where a lot of our planes operated. The rest of the planes were on the polo pitch, well dispersed and screened by trees. The RAF suffered heavy causalities that day, losing 22 aircraft and ten pilots, either killed or too seriously injured to fly, as the Iraqi Air Force had also attacked us, with their far superior aircraft.
We stopped our bombing operations at dusk, but the Iraqis kept up their shelling, continuing all through the night. Some estimated that we had a shell every minute from 8pm to 5am next day. So we bombed them heavily every day for the next four days, whilst they bombed and machine-gunned us daily, and continued to shell us day and night. On 6 May the Iraqi Army started to leave
1
[Page break]
the Plateau, thoroughly beaten and demoralised by our determined efforts, and we also hammered them well in their retreat.
Peace at last, we thought, but NO! There were a few isolated raids from the Iraqi Air Force for the next ten days then, on the 16 May, we were rather shaken to find that we were attacked by Heinkel 111 bombers and Messerschmitt 110 fighters from the German Luftwaffe. These had sneaked into Iraq and were based at Mosul, an ex-RAF station, 200 miles north of us. By then we had been loaned two long-range cannon-firing Hurricanes from Egypt, which could cope with the Luftwaffe. Once they followed the Luftwaffe back to Mosul after one of their raids, and caught them defenceless on the ground, destroying at least one and seriously damaging others. The Luftwaffe suffered various other mishaps and by 26 May they no longer posed a serious threat to us. We were at peace at last and the very crucial Battle of Habbaniya had been won, with No 4 FTS having played a very important part in it.
I was about due home, having completed my overseas tour, and eventually sailed from Basra on 17 June 1941, the start of what turned out to be a 17-week sea voyage.
We stopped and changed ships, having several days ashore at Bombay, Mombassa, Durham and Cape Town. At Cape Town I managed a trip to the tip of 3,500-foot Table Mountain, via a mile-long cable railway starting from a level area halfway up the mountain – with spectacular views from the top.
I finally arrived at Liverpool on 11 October 1941 and was posted to Cranwell, then on to Wigsley to a Lancaster Conversion Unit. I was commissioned as an Engineer Officer in July 1943 and after various courses finished up early in November as Technical Adjutant at East Kirkby. Here I was in charge of the Technical Library doing technical returns, reports and miscellaneous paper work. I was in charge of the Station workshops, power plant and propeller bays supporting two Lancaster Squadrons at East Kirkby, two at Spilsby and one at Strubby, with replacement engines and propellers. Units for overhaul or repair came back to me at Kirkby, from where I sent the engines to either Derby or Glasgow and propellers to Bolton, Lancashire for overhaul or repair.
Whilst at Kirkby I attended a Hunt Ball at Revesby Abbey where I met my future wife, Mary Brackenbury, a farmer’s daughter from Claxby Pluckacre. Mary was a Leading Firewoman in the Auxiliary Fire Service, on leave from her station at Seaford at the time.
After a year at East Kirkby I was moved to Metheringham as Engineer Office to No 106 Squadron and a hanger full of small single-engined [sic] planes used for navigation training – these were no bother at all and I could just leave their Flight Sergeant to deal with them.
No 106 Squadron had received some of No 617 Squadron’s ‘gutless wonders’. These were Lancasters with their big bomb-doors removed to accommodate Dr Barnes Wallis’s ‘bouncing bomb’ used in the Dam Busters’ Raid. They were very suitable for carrying the big sea mines, which No 106 dropped on their mine-laying ops off the German and Dutch coasts.
On 7 Janurary 1945, after two months’ hard work, I got my big move – posted to Coningsby as Engineer Officer to Nos 83 and 97 Pathfinder Squadrons and promoted to Flight Lieutenant. My job was to supervise the day-to-day servicing of the 40 odd Lancasters from the two Squadrons and ensure that they had whatever aircraft were needed for their ops. Occasionally the call was for ‘maximum effort’, which meant they needed all 40 Lancasters. I copied and always supplied what was needed, though it was a bit of a struggle at times. With the end of the war in Europe in May I
2
[Page break]
was eventually posted to Strubby where ‘Tiger Force’ was being assembled. This was a Lancaster Wing, scheduled to go to Okinawa, a Japanese island captured by the Americans. From here we were to bomb the Japanese mainland. My job was to supervise the repair of damaged aircraft and collect any which crashed on return from ops. With the surrender of Japan, Tiger Force was not needed, and I was posted at the end of August to a workshop’s unit 54 RU (Plant) of the Airfield Construction Service. Their job to service and repair Civil Engineering Equipment, such as bulldozers, excavators and suchlike required for building runways. The Wing was scheduled to go to Singapore four days after I arrived but, fortunately, an Advance Party went from 54 RU (Plant) and I was given 14 day’s leave.
Mary and I got a Marriage Licence from the office of the Bishop of Lincoln, allowing us to marry without waiting for Banns to be called in church. We were married in the tiny church at Wilksby on Wednesday 26 September, and on Saturday I was recalled from leave and the following Wednesday I embarked at Liverpool on a ship for Singapore. However we were disembarked at Bombay to wait for the next stage. A week or more later we proceeded on our final stage on the aircraft carrier HMS Venerable. Arriving at Singapore we were accommodated at Seletar, a flying boat base on the east of the island. Our workshop machinery had not arrived and after a couple of months at Seletar we were moved on, eventually settling on Changi Airfield, in tents, very near the temporary runway running out into the sea. This was covered in PSP – large sheets of perforated steel planking – which made a terrible rattling when anything landed or took off. On 3 July 1946 I was sent on a Junior Commander’s Course at Kandy, Ceylon, the last stage of the move being ten hours on a Sunderland flying-boat from Penang to Lake Kogala, in the south of Ceylon. Kandy was a small town, high up in the hills; the RAF unit was just a small training school with no aircraft facilities. Whilst I was there the ‘Perahera’ took place. This was a big religious festival, culminating in a long procession through the streets of Kandy. The procession was made up from the contingents from several temples, each contingent having a large group of priests, led by men cracking long whips, fire-eaters, dancers and a group of elephants. From our vantage point on a hotel balcony I counted over 70 elephants – quite a procession!
The entire procession was led by a sacred elephant from Kandy’s own ‘temple of the tooth’ – so called because it house a casket said to contain a tooth from Buddha. This sacred elephant, reputedly over 100 years old, was not allowed to walk barefoot on the road, so teams of men laid long, wide strips of white silk ahead of him to walk on.
My five-week course over, I moved down to Colombo, capital of Ceylon, and had several interesting days waiting for a ship back to Singapore, five very pleasant days, and much better than the Sunderland.
Arriving back at Changi, I found that with the completion of the runways at Tengah the Airfield Construction Wing was being disbanded. The big majority of the personnel were returning to the UK, and all the plant and transport was being transferred to Air Ministry Works Directorate- the civilian part of the RAF. I was given the job of supervising the rounding up and handing over of all this equipment. At the same time I was to prepare all the plant and equipment required to lay a permanent runway at Changi – the so-called Changi Runway Project.
At the same time, with the runways at Kai Tak (the RAF station on the Chinese mainland opposite Hong Kong) having been completed, their entire stock of plant and transport was to be shipped down to Singapore and the Construction Wing disbanded.
3
[Page Break]
I was given the job of getting everything collected and somehow hauling it out to Changi, 18 miles away. Our compound at Changi Point was on the sea edge, very near where a fresh water creek joined the sea. At some high tides a group of crocodiles would gather there, probably enjoying the fresh water. They were only 100 yards or so away, about eight or ten of them, up to around 16 feet long as far as we could estimate. They did not really bother us but one man, working in his boat, looked up to see a big crocodile steadily watching him, just a few feet away – he swore that it was as long as his boat – 16 feet and quite capable of taking a bite out of his boat to get at him. We were also paid a visit by a young five-footer, which swam up an open drain into the compound. We tried to fence him in with some tent floorboards but he smashed his way out, and back out to sea at top speed!
At this time the Air Ministry was settling its peacetime establishment of Engineers. The senior, older men were offered permanent commissions, the Air Ministry knowing that in a few years they would all be retiring. To us younger 25-30 year olds they would only offer short service commissions, giving time to sort out whom they wanted to keep. They offered me a short service commission, but back on aircraft, and refused to let me stay in airfield construction. I wanted a workshop’s job, so refused the offer and did things my way. I relinquished my War Emergency Commission, came home, had three months’ leave, and then rejoined [sic] ‘in the ranks’. I then changed trades – from aircraft fitter to general engineer – and spent the next 18 years a Warrant Officer in charge of various workshop units, at home and in Germany. I had a ‘Mentioned in Despatches’ from war service and, in my post war service, had three Commander in Chief’s Commendations, with cash awards for technical inventions and an AOC Commendation for Efficiency. To me, that justified the decision I had made regarding my career. I finally retired from the RAF in April 1966 and joined Horncastle RDC as a Clerical Officer.
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Bits and Pieces from a Long Career
Description
An account of the resource
Covers the period from joining as a Halton Apprentice in September 1932 for training as an Aircraft Fitter. Through the completion of his training and posting to 16 squadron, before being transferred to Egypt in 1937 and on to Iraq with No 4 Flying Training School. In April 1941 he was present at the Battle of Habbaniya when the Iraqi army and German Luftwaffe attempted to capture the base. On return to the United Kingdom he was commissioned as an Engineering Officer and served at East Kirkby, Metheringham, Coningsby and Strubby. Post war he was involved with airfield construction in the Far East. When the Air Ministry re-structured the post war RAF, he relinquished his wartime commission re-mustered to General Engineer and spent the next eighteen years running station workshops in the UK and Germany.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Four typewritten sheets
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
BBullockWEJBullockWEJv1
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.
Egypt
Great Britain
Iraq
England--Lincolnshire
Iraq--Mosul
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1937
1941
1943
1945
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
William Bullock
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending review
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Bradley Froggatt
106 Squadron
83 Squadron
97 Squadron
fitter airframe
ground crew
ground personnel
Pathfinders
RAF Coningsby
RAF East Kirkby
RAF Halton
RAF Metheringham
-
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Redgrave, Henry Cecil
H C Redgrave
Description
An account of the resource
187 items. The collection concerns Henry Cecil Redgrave (743047, Royal Air Force) and contains his decorations, letters and photographs. He flew operations as a bomb aimer with 207 Squadron from RAF Waddington. He was killed 13/14 March 1941. <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Pam Isaac and catalogued by Barry Hunter.<br /><br /><span>Additional information on Henry Cecil Redgrave is available via the </span><a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/119457/">IBCC Losses Database</a><span>.</span>
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-10-02
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Redgrave, HC
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
Mrs H. C. Redgrave,
155 Fletton Avenue,
Peterboro’,
Northants.
[page break]
[R.A.F Crest]
Sgts Mess
Finningley
27-9-40
My dear Jessie,
Thanks for your letter today and now you are away I look forward to every other morning for your chatty little notes. It was rather late Tuesday to write you much so I will try and make up for it tonight.
When I arrived here on Monday tea-time I met a W.O.A.G. who came here a week before and he offered to go with me to Doncaster to fetch my kit so off we went and after unsuccessfully searching for the kit-bags we had a stroll round the town. There are bags of cinemas and seems
[page break]
2
to be quite a spot of night life about in the town. I should think it is a [deleted] but [/deleted] bit bigger than Peterboro [sic] but is more or less just another provincial town. As Frank had to be back for night flying we left on the 8.45 bus. Its only 10d return and there are buses every thirty minutes. On Tuesday we reported to accounts and various other people and in the afternoon to the Flight Commander of 106 Squadron. As there was nothing for us to do that day we got off sharply at five o’clock and went into town to see Spencer Tracy in “North West Passage” which I thoroughly enjoyed. Its an all colour film of the war in Canada between the French and ourselves each side being aided by various Indian tribes. If it comes your way you
[page break]
3
[R.A.F Crest}
should try and see it. The next morning saw us in the crew room at 0830 and after sitting around all day I was suddenly detailed for some practice bombing. In the Hampden they use the automatic bombsight about which I know nothing so I had to scurry around and collect some gen before I could start. The target is in the shape, and of the size of a submarine and I was surprised to learn that seven out of my eight bombs would have sunk it. Pretty good eh. In the evening I started to take my byke [sic] engine down preparoty [sic] to fitting new rings and after supper went to bed. This morning I was supposed to be going to a lecture on this automatic b.sight but just as I got to the Armoury I was sent for to
[page break]
4
navigate a machine down to Hendon. Gee was I in a flat spin. I’d never done any work in aHampden and I was being sent down to London with all those hundreds of balloons and fighter boys Visibility was very poor but I got the plane there O.K. although we were several times challenged by fighters and on arrival found that we were there to show the Observer Corp what a Hampden looked like from the ground and the air. The night before the aerodrome had been bombed up with dozens of incendiary bombs and the Franco sign works on the North Circular Road had been demolished and also a Tube Station near by. There were two warnings while we were there but nothing happened. Incidentally was I proud
[page break]
5
[R.A.F Crest]
of myself when all these civvie chaps came around asking me about my machine. They are fine jobs for navigation and have bags of guns for defence. I feel very happy about my chances in them and prefer them to any machine I have been in. At Hendon I ran into a Southend lad who I met a Prestwick and he was there demonstrating a Battle oh boy did he envy me. I found he was stationed Binbrook which is not far from here and that they had come from Eastchurch in the Thames Estuary from where they had been bombed out. Withal the weather was bad we made the journey back without incident and on landing the pilot said ”simply wizard navigation”; did my chest swell.
I’m glad you sent off Millys [sic] and
[page break]
Patty’s birthday cards. You will have to decide yourself about Mansfield as [inserted] it [/inserted] seems unlikely I shall even get a day off here to see you where ever you are. Were Gwen & Agnes keeping well? Send me one of the photos of you and Pam as soon as they are ready. Darling, don’t you ever think for one moment that you are a nuisance as having you near makes all the difference to this war, and I am looking forward to when you are near again.
Give my best wishes to Mr & Mrs Gorton and always remember that you and Pam are always in the thoughts of
Your devoted husband
Harry xxxxx
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Letter to Mrs H Redgrave from Harry
Description
An account of the resource
Harry writes to Jessie telling her of elements of his service life & duties including navigating a Hampden from Finningley to Hendon, and his input to their domestic life.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Harry Redgrave
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1940-09-27
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Envelope and six handwritten sheets
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Correspondence
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM400927-0001,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM400927-0002,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM400927-0003,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM400927-0004,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM400927-0005,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM400927-0006,
ERedgraveHCRedgraveJM400927-0007
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Civilian
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Kent
England--Yorkshire
England--London
England--Peterborough
England--Doncaster
England--Southend-on-Sea
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Essex
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Steve Christian
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.
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1940-09-27
106 Squadron
aircrew
Battle
entertainment
Hampden
navigator
observer
RAF Eastchurch
RAF Finningley
RAF Hendon
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/691/20281/LBarnesJ[Ser -DoB]v1.pdf
a3e3d4ddf01f980e35c432f7d0e24561
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
Barnes, J
Description
An account of the resource
Two items. Two log books belonging to Flight Lieutenant J Barnes. He served as a pilot instructor and flew operations with 630 and 106 squadrons.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Sue Barnes and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-01-09
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Barnes, J
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
J Barnes’ pilots flying log book. One
Description
An account of the resource
Pilots flying log book for J Barnes, covering the period from 10 December 1940 to 6 march 1946 and 24 September 1948 to 2 march 1951. Detailing his flying training, Instructor duties, operations flown and post war flying duties. He was stationed at RAF Staverton, RAF Ternhill, RAF Upavon, RAF Netheravon, RAF Watton, RCAF Kingston, RAF Tatenhill, RAF Wheaton Aston, RAF Market Harborough, RAF Swinderby, RAF East Kirkby, RAF Metheringham, RAF Lindholme and RAF Rochester. Aircraft flown were, Tiger Moth, Master, Avro Tutor, Hurricane, Battle, Harvard, Anson, Lysander, Oxford, Wellington Lancaster and Chipmunk. He flew one daylight and one night operation with 630 squadron, Targets were Pilsen and Flensburgh. His pilot for his first 'second dickie' operation was Wing Commander Grindon. He flew 8 operation Firebrand and one Operation Dodge to Bari with 106 squadron.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Mike Connock
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One booklet
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Log book and record book
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
LBarnesJ[Ser#-DoB]v1
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.
Canada
Czech Republic
Germany
Great Britain
Italy
England--Gloucestershire
England--Kent
England--Leicestershire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Norfolk
England--Shropshire
England--Staffordshire
England--Wiltshire
England--Yorkshire
Germany--Flensburg
Italy--Bari
Ontario--Kingston
Czech Republic--Plzeň
Ontario
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1948
1949
1950
1951
1945-04-16
1945-04-17
1945-04-23
1945-08-28
1945-09-29
1945-10-01
106 Squadron
14 OTU
1660 HCU
630 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
aircrew
Anson
Battle
bombing
Cook’s tour
Flying Training School
Harvard
Heavy Conversion Unit
Hurricane
Lancaster
Lysander
Operation Dodge (1945)
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
pilot
RAF East Kirkby
RAF Lindholme
RAF Market Harborough
RAF Metheringham
RAF Netheravon
RAF Staverton
RAF Swinderby
RAF Ternhill
RAF Upavon
RAF Watton
Tiger Moth
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/865/20718/BHazeldenePVHazeldenePVv10001.2.jpg
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/865/20718/BHazeldenePVHazeldenePVv10002.2.jpg
b9580a9f302f26651a8e874887d2e50f
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/865/20718/BHazeldenePVHazeldenePVv10003.2.jpg
bfe68cd0f8ecad7bb90961f3b6f9a87a
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/865/20718/BHazeldenePVHazeldenePVv10004.2.jpg
e05886da0091b565c5d8b3f5f2de8752
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
Hazeldene, Peter
Peter Vere Hazeldene
P V Hazeldene
Description
An account of the resource
19 items. An oral history interview with Rachel and John Gill about their father, Peter Hazeldene DFC (b. 1922, 553414 Royal Air Force) and 16 other items including log book, memoirs, medals and photographs. He flew operations as an air gunner with 106 and 57 Squadrons.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Rachel and John Gill and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-03-07
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
Hazeldene, PV
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
MEMORIES OF MY CREW OF 57 SQUADRON LANCASTER
ND 954 ‘Q’ – Queenie
By
PETER VERE HAZELDENE DFC
(16.01.1922 – 27.04.2003)
I was a member of 57 Squadron based at East Kirkby from 22 April 1944 until my last operational flight from the base on 19 July 1944.
This was my second ‘Tour’ having completed my first with 106 Squadron.
I was the Wireless Operator/Air Gunner.
Our Lancaster’s call sign was “Q” for Queenie.
After my first tour I was sent to Husband’s Bosworth, in October 1943, where I met my ‘new’ rookie crew who were undergoing training in readiness for their first tour.
They were:
Flt Lt, J.B.P. “Tuesday’ Spencer – 20 years – Pilot – Tuesday was from Greenside, Co Durham
Sgt W.D.E. West – 21 years – Mid Upper Gunner – from Barking, Essex.
Sgt H. Gordge – 21 years – Bomb Aimer - - Itchen, Southampton
Flt Lt R.T. Clarke DFM – 21 years – flight Engineer – Teddington, Middlesex
Sgt E.D. Anderson – 19 years – Rear Gunner – Kirkstall, Leeds
P/O N.E. Hughes-Games. – 21 – Years – Navigator. ‘Hughie’ was a member of the RCAF and from Kelowna, British Columbia.
[page break]
[underlined] Flt Lt Spencer and the crew [/underlined]
I met ‘Tuesday’ at 14 OTU, Husband’s Bosworth in October 1943, when we were crewed together.
We carried out many training flights on Wellington’s[sic] and Stirlings before being posted to 57 Squadron at East Kirkby “ ‘Silksheen’.
I don’t know why we called him ‘Tuesday’.
I remember him well: he was a flamboyant character who once put us up at an expensive hotel in London after a forced landing.
We had many good nights together; he was one of a few who had a motorcycle.
Often we went to Spalding where [sic] and spent many a night at The Greyhound Inn (now a draper’s store) where my wife, Olive, worked.
We usually got drunk and it did us the world of good.
I cannot recall much of the background of the rest of the crew but they were all ‘good types’ and very friendly.
‘Hughie’ was quite a character; he was typical of many Canadian airmen I met. He never showed concern and was able to laugh, and make us laugh, often in the face of great danger.
He was a great tonic and morale booster for the rest of the crew.
Flt Lt Clarke, DFM, was very popular on the Squadron as Engineering Leader.
We carried out many raids from East Kirkby up to and after D-Day.
[page break]
I remember attacking the gun-emplacements on the Normandy Coast on 5/6 June 1944.
I recently visited the area for the first time (on land!) and the evidence of those raids is still apparent.
After 25 Operation [sic] with the crew I was sent on ‘End of tour leave’ – I was told that having completed one tour of 30 Ops, I was not allowed to do more than 25 on my second.
So of on leave I went.
On return to base, about 2 weeks afterwards, I was immediately called to the C/O’s office and was told that ‘Queenie’ had been lost over France on 31 July whilst returning from a daylight raid on Joigny-La-Roche.
Sadly all my crewmates had been killed [symbol].
Tuesday’s parents were present in the Station Commander’s Office and they had asked to meet me, as the only surviving crew member who had flown with him – they were such a kind and caring couple and I am sure it was a comfort to them to talk to me about their son.
Sometime later they sent me £5.00 to help me celebrate both my commission and the award of the DFC.
I actually spent the money on a pair of silver candlesticks in memory of him and the rest of the crew – we still treasure them.
[symbol] It later transpired that Hughie had survived the crash but after being taken prisoner of war he died of meningitis.
Many years later I found that my replacement, WO/AG, Sgt Grice (St Georges, Wellington, Shropshire) was also taken POW – ending up in Stalag IIIA. Luckenwalde, and survived the war – I never met him.
[page break]
[underlined] What happened to Queenie on that ill-fated operation? [/underlined]
The evidence is obviously sparse but some details emerged over time and is as follows”
In an interview with Hughie, in Stalag Luft III, he told the Red Cross that a fire had broken out on board and this was so sudden and catastrophic that ‘Tuesday’ Spencer had not been able to give the order to abandon aircraft.
The evidence later gathered from the Germans indicates that 3 parachutes left the aircraft although the third was on fire.
‘Queenie’ crashed and was burnt out.
Sadly Hughie contracted meningitis whilst in Stalag III and he died on 28 September 1944 – he was just 21 years old.
All except Hughie lie in the British Commonwealth War Cemetery at Banneville-Le-Campagne.
I visited their graves recently – in such a peaceful and beautiful setting near Caen.
Hughie lies in Ponzan Old Garrison Cemetery, Poland.
Sgt Grice, I later found survived the war but I believe he may now have died.
Finally, as for me for me, [sic] I received permission to commence a third tour and was well into this when the war the war [sic] ended.
Peter Hazeldene
November 1995.
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 Hazeldene memoir
Memories of my crew of 57 Squadron Lancaster ND954 Q - Queenie
Description
An account of the resource
Peter's RAF service with 57 Squadron is detailed. This was his second tour and he lists his new crew:
Flt Lt J B P 'Tuesday' Spencer, 20 years, Pilot from Greenside, Co Durham
Sgt W D E West, 21 years, Mid Upper Gunner, from Barking, Essex
Sgt H Gordge, 21 years, Bomb Aimer, from Itchen, Southampton
Flt Lt R T Clarke, DFM, 21 years, Flight Engineer, from Teddington, Middlesex
Sgt E D Anderson, 19 years, Rear Gunner, from Kirkstall, Leeds
P/O N E Hughes-Games ('Hughie'), 21 years, Navigator, member of RCAF from Kelowna, British Columbia.
He gives descriptions of 'Tuesday' Spencer, and 'Hughie' Hughes-Games.
Peter carried out 25 operations since he had already completed a first tour of 30 operations. While he was on leave, his aircraft crashed and his crew died, including one who survived the crash but later died of meningitis in prison.
Peter then commenced a third tour but the war ended before it was completed.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Hazeldene,P
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1995-11
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Four typewritten sheets
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
BHazeldenePVHazeldenePVv10001,
BHazeldenePVHazeldenePVv10002,
BHazeldenePVHazeldenePVv10003,
BHazeldenePVHazeldenePVv10004
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Canadian Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Leicestershire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Spalding
France
France--Normandy
France--Caen
France--Joigny
Poland
Poland--Poznań
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943-10
1944-06
1944-07
1944-08
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Tricia Marshall
106 Squadron
14 OTU
57 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
bomb aimer
bombing
crash
crewing up
Distinguished Flying Cross
final resting place
flight engineer
heirloom
killed in action
Lancaster
navigator
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
pilot
prisoner of war
RAF East Kirkby
RAF Husbands Bosworth
Red Cross
Stalag 3A
Stalag Luft 3
Stirling
training
Wellington
wireless operator / air gunner
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/865/20719/LHazeldenePV553414v1.2.pdf
e8a466fe44888b4d1d47b6caf85dda6c
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
Hazeldene, Peter
Peter Vere Hazeldene
P V Hazeldene
Description
An account of the resource
19 items. An oral history interview with Rachel and John Gill about their father, Peter Hazeldene DFC (b. 1922, 553414 Royal Air Force) and 16 other items including log book, memoirs, medals and photographs. He flew operations as an air gunner with 106 and 57 Squadrons.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Rachel and John Gill and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-03-07
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
Hazeldene, PV
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 Hazeldene's Log book
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Description
An account of the resource
Peter Hazeldene's air gunner’s flying log book covering the period from 28 August 1940 to 13 May 1945. Detailing his flying training and operations flown as air gunner. He was stationed at RAF West Freugh (4 BGS), RAF Upper Heyford (16 OTU), RAF Finningley (106 Squadron), RAF Coningsby (106 Squadron), USAAF Polebrook (97 BG), RAF Husbands Bosworth (14 OTU), RAF Wigsley (1654 HCU), RAF Syerston (5 LFS), RAF East Kirkby (57 Squadron), RAF Syerston (5 LFS). Aircraft flown in were Battle, Anson, Hampden, Oxford, Lysander, Wellington, Fortress B-17E, Stirling and Lancaster. He flew a total of 34 operations with 106 Squadron, targets were Kiel, Brest (mining), Elbe (mining), North Sea (mining), Lorient, St Nazaire (mining), Koln, Hamburg, Bremen, Brest, Berlin, Mannheim, Dusseldorf, Duisburg, Soeston, Vegesach and Essen. He flew 25 operations with 57 Squadron, targets were Brunswick, Clermont Ferrand, Tours, Mailly, Kiel, Annecy, Antwerp, St Valery, Kattegat (mining), Maisy, Caen, Etampes, Bearoin, Wesseling, Pommereral, Chalindrey, Paris, Nevers and Thurney. <span>His pilots on operations were </span><span data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335559739":200,"335559740":276}">Sergeant Galloway</span>, Sergeant Topping, Sergeant Osbourne, Pilot Officer Wareing, <span>Flying Officer </span>Altmann, Pilot Officer Robson, Squadron Leader Grylls and Flight Lieutenant Spencer.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Terry Hancock
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Log book, printed with handwritten annotations
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Log book and record book
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
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1940-11-27
1940-11-29
1940-12-04
1940-12-10
1940-12-22
1940-12-29
1941-01-03
1941-01-05
1941-01-09
1941-01-12
1941-02-04
1941-02-05
1941-03-03
1941-03-04
1941-03-12
1941-03-18
1941-03-20
1941-03-21
1941-04-04
1941-04-05
1941-04-07
1941-04-08
1941-04-17
1941-04-18
1941-04-20
1941-04-23
1941-04-24
1941-04-27
1941-04-28
1941-04-29
1941-04-30
1941-05-04
1941-05-05
1941-05-15
1941-05-16
1941-05-18
1941-05-19
1941-05-23
1941-05-24
1941-05-26
1941-05-27
1941-06-02
1941-06-03
1941-06-11
1941-06-12
1941-06-13
1941-06-14
1941-06-15
1941-06-16
1941-06-17
1941-06-18
1941-06-21
1941-06-22
1941-06-27
1941-06-28
1941-07-24
1941-08-08
1942-05-30
1942-05-31
1942-06-01
1942-06-02
1944-04-22
1944-04-23
1944-04-29
1944-05-01
1944-05-02
1944-05-03
1944-05-04
1944-05-08
1944-05-09
1944-05-10
1944-05-21
1944-05-22
1944-05-23
1944-05-24
1944-05-25
1944-05-27
1944-05-28
1944-05-31
1944-06-01
1944-06-05
1944-06-07
1944-06-08
1944-06-09
1944-06-10
1944-06-12
1944-06-13
1944-06-14
1944-06-15
1944-06-16
1944-06-17
1944-06-21
1944-06-22
1944-06-24
1944-06-25
1944-07-12
1944-07-13
1944-07-14
1944-07-15
1944-07-16
1944-07-18
1944-07-19
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
France
Germany
Great Britain
Atlantic Ocean--North Sea
Atlantic Ocean--Kattegat (Baltic Sea)
Belgium--Antwerp
England--Leicestershire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Nottinghamshire
England--Oxfordshire
England--Yorkshire
France--Annecy
France--Brest
France--Brest
France--Caen
France--Chalindrey
France--Clermont-Ferrand
France--Etaples
France--Lorient
France--Mailly-le-Camp
France--Nevers
France--Paris
France--Tours
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Braunschweig
Germany--Bremen
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Essen
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Kiel
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Wesseling
Scotland--Dumfries and Galloway
Belgium
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Europe--Elbe River
France--Saint-Nazaire
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
LHazeldenePV553414v1
106 Squadron
14 OTU
16 OTU
1654 HCU
57 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
Anson
B-17
Battle
bombing
Bombing and Gunnery School
bombing of Cologne (30/31 May 1942)
Bombing of Mailly-le-Camp (3/4 May 1944)
bombing of the Normandy coastal batteries (5/6 June 1944)
bombing of the Pas de Calais V-1 sites (24/25 June 1944)
Hampden
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
Lysander
mine laying
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
RAF Coningsby
RAF East Kirkby
RAF Finningley
RAF Husbands Bosworth
RAF Polebrook
RAF Syerston
RAF Upper Heyford
RAF West Freugh
RAF Wigsley
Stirling
tactical support for Normandy troops
training
Wellington
wireless operator / air gunner
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/501/22507/MCurnockRM1815605-171114-004.1.pdf
7f988e11cd713fb18e3bb9057ddea4e7
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
Curnock, Richard
Richard Murdock Curnock
R M Curnock
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Curnock, RM
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-04-18
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Description
An account of the resource
92 items. An oral history interview with Warrant Officer Richard Curnock (1924, 1915605 Royal Air Force), his log book, letters, photographs and prisoner of war magazines. He flew operations with 425 Squadron before being shot down and becoming a prisoner of war.
The collection has been licenced to the IBCC Digital Archive by Richard Curnock and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
The Kriegie June 1995
Description
An account of the resource
News Sheet of the RAF ex-POW Association. Articles describe The Great Escape Memorial Service, held in London, the Memorial to Sir Arthur Harris and the aircrews of Bomber Command, an account of a visit to Sagan, March 1994, obituaries, a visit to RAF Honington in October 1992, a reunion in Vancouver, Recco Report - stories about Kriegies and books written by former POWs,
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
The RAF ex-POW Association
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1995-06
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
12 printed sheets
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MCurnockRM1815605-171114-004
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Air Force. Coastal Command
Royal Canadian Air Force
Royal Navy
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--London
Poland--Żagań
New Zealand--Auckland
Canada
Ontario--Toronto
Canada
British Columbia--Abbotsford
British Columbia--Victoria
England--Headcorn
Australia
New South Wales--Penrith
Germany--Stuttgart
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Leipzig
England--Stafford
England--Nottingham
Poland
New South Wales
Ontario
Germany
New Zealand
England--Kent
England--Nottinghamshire
England--Staffordshire
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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.
106 Squadron
138 Squadron
42 Squadron
460 Squadron
78 Squadron
aircrew
Beaufighter
crash
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
Dulag Luft
escaping
evading
flight engineer
Fw 190
George Cross
George VI, King of Great Britain (1895-1952)
Harris, Arthur Travers (1892-1984)
Harvard
Lancaster
Manchester
Me 110
memorial
Military Cross
prisoner of war
RAF Alconbury
RAF Biggin Hill
RAF Honington
Scharnhorst
Spitfire
sport
Stalag 3A
Stalag Luft 1
Stalag Luft 3
Stalag Luft 4
the long march
Victoria Cross
wireless operator