1
25
12
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1780/36177/LDidcoteWG574095v1.1.pdf
cc2d34efdc71c8d457df3d7ff8c4159a
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
Didcote, William George
W G Didcote
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
2021-01-20
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
Didcote, WG
Description
An account of the resource
Three items. The collection concerns Squadron Leader William George Didcote OBE (b. 1922, 574095 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book and two photographs. He flew operations as a navigator with 115 Squadron.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Timothy Victor Wilks and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
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
W G Didcote’s South African Air Force observer’s or air gunner’s log book
Description
An account of the resource
South African Air Force observer’s or air gunner’s log book for W G Didcote, covering the period from 15 December 1942 to 9 November 1945. Detailing his flying training, operations flown, instructor duties and duties with 90, 186, 218 and 83 Squadrons. He was stationed at SAAF Oudtshoorn, SAAF Port Alfred, RAF Millom, RAF Silverstone, RAF Wratting Common, RAF Waterbeach, RAF Witchford, RAF Chedburgh, RAF Manby, RAF Tuddenham, RAF Stradishall and RAF Coningsby. Aircraft flown in were Tutor, Botha, Anson, Oxford, Tiger Moth, Wellington, Stirling and Lancaster. He flew a total of 32 operations with 115 Squadron. His pilots on operations were Flight Sergeant Carter, Flight Sergeant Gibson, Pilot Officer Rowe-Evans, and Pilot Officer Atkin. Targets were Berlin, Leipzig, Stuttgart, Nuremberg, Laon, Aachen, Rouen, Cologne, Dusseldorf, Essen, Friedrichshafen, Chambly, Cap Gris-Nez, Courtrai, Le Mans, Duisburg, Dortmund, Trappes, Ouistreham, Lisieux, Paris, Dreux, Nantes, Le Havre, Valenciennes, L’Hey, Watten, Vaires and Nucourt. He also flew one Operation Exodus flight and one Operation Dodge flight.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943
1944-02-15
1944-02-16
1944-02-19
1944-02-20
1944-02-21
1944-03-15
1944-03-16
1944-03-30
1944-03-31
1944-04-10
1944-04-11
1944-04-12
1944-04-18
1944-04-19
1944-04-20
1944-04-21
1944-04-22
1944-04-23
1944-04-26
1944-04-27
1944-04-28
1944-05-01
1944-05-02
1944-05-09
1944-05-10
1944-05-11
1944-05-19
1944-05-20
1944-05-21
1944-05-22
1944-05-23
1944-05-27
1944-05-28
1944-05-31
1944-06-01
1944-06-05
1944-06-06
1944-06-07
1944-06-08
1944-06-09
1944-06-10
1944-06-11
1944-06-14
1944-06-15
1944-06-16
1944-06-23
1944-06-24
1944-07-05
1944-07-06
1944-07-07
1944-07-08
1944-07-10
1944-07-12
1945
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Belgium
France
Germany
Great Britain
South Africa
Atlantic Ocean--English Channel
Belgium--Kortrijk
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Cumbria
England--Lincolnshire
England--Northamptonshire
England--Suffolk
France--Audinghen
France--Caen Region
France--Dreux
France--Laon
France--Le Havre
France--Le Mans
France--Lisieux
France--Nantes
France--Nucourt
France--Paris
France--Paris Region
France--Rouen
France--Valenciennes
France--Vaires-sur-Marne
France--Versailles Region
France--Watten
Germany--Aachen
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Essen
Germany--Friedrichshafen
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Nuremberg
Germany--Stuttgart
South Africa--Oudtshoorn
South Africa--Port Alfred
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
France--Ouistreham
France--Cap Gris Nez
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Log book and record book
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One booklet
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Mike Connock
Cara Walmsley
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
LDidcoteWG574095v1
115 Squadron
1651 HCU
1653 HCU
1678 HCU
17 OTU
186 Squadron
218 Squadron
83 Squadron
90 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
aircrew
Anson
bombing
bombing of Nuremberg (30 / 31 March 1944)
bombing of the Le Havre E-boat pens (14/15 June 1944)
bombing of the Normandy coastal batteries (5/6 June 1944)
Botha
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 1
Lancaster Mk 2
Lancaster Mk 3
Me 110
navigator
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operation Dodge (1945)
Operation Exodus (1945)
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
RAF Chedburgh
RAF Coningsby
RAF Manby
RAF Millom
RAF Silverstone
RAF Stradishall
RAF Tuddenham
RAF Waterbeach
RAF Witchford
RAF Wratting Common
Stirling
Tiger Moth
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1786/33584/LSandlandCB19230612v1.2.pdf
83285f5c13ff6d9126b3aa9c901bdf14
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
Sandland, Charles Bertram
C B Sandland
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
2020-10-21
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
Sandland, CB
Description
An account of the resource
One item. The collection concerns Flying Officer Charles Bertram Sandland and contains his log book. He flew operations as a pilot with 514 Squadron before being posted to Transport Command.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Sue Fowler and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
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
Charles Bertram Sandland’s Royal Canadian Air Force pilot’s flying log book
Description
An account of the resource
Flying Officer C. B. Sandland’s RCAF Pilot’s Flying Log Book, from June 1942 to 22nd May 1946, recording training, operations, instructional and Transport Command flights to Europe, India, the Middle and Far East.
Based at: Marshall’s Flying School Cambridge (22 Elementary Flying Training School), Ponca City (6 British Flying Training School), RAF Banff (14 AFU), RAF Wing (No. 26 OTU), RAF Waterbeach (1678 CU and 514 Squadron), RAF Lulsgate Bottom (No. 3 Flying Instructors School), RAF Feltwell (3 Lancaster Finishing School), and RAF Lyneham (511 Squadron).
Aircraft in which flown: DH82A, PT-17A, AT-6A, Oxford, Wellington III, Wellington X, Lancaster I, Lancaster II, Lancaster III, York, Lancastrian.
Records a total of 31 operations (6 day, 25 night). Targets in Belgium, France, Germany: Angers, Aulnoye, Beauvoir, Boulogne, Caen area, Cap Gris-Nez, Chalons Sur Marne, Courtrai, Duisberg, Emieville, Gelsenkirchen, Homburg, Kiel, Le Catelliers, Le Havre, Le Mans, Louvain, Massy Palaisieu, Nantes, Ouistreham, Paris Vaires, Pas de Calais - L’Hey, Rimeux, Stuttgart, Trappes (Paris), Valenciennes, Villers Bocage, Watten - Pas de Calais.
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
David Leitch
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
LSandlandCB19230612v1
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.
Belgium
France
Germany
Great Britain
India
United States
Atlantic Ocean--Baltic Sea
Atlantic Ocean--English Channel
Middle East
Belgium--Kortrijk
Belgium--Louvain
England--Buckinghamshire
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Cambridge
England--Norfolk
England--Somerset
England--Wiltshire
France--Angers
France--Boulogne-sur-Mer
France--Le Havre
France--Le Mans
France--Nantes
France--Nord (Department)
France--Normandy
France--Opale Coast
France--Paris
France--Pas-de-Calais
France--Saint-Omer (Pas-de-Calais)
France--Vaires-sur-Marne
France--Valenciennes
France--Villers-Bocage (Calvados)
France--Yvelines
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Gelsenkirchen
Germany--Homberg (Kassel)
Germany--Kiel
Germany--Stuttgart
Oklahoma--Ponca City
Scotland--Aberdeenshire
France--Châlons-en-Champagne
Oklahoma
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
France--Ouistreham
France--Les Catelliers
France--Watten
France--Calvados
France--Cap Gris Nez
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943
1944-05-08
1944-05-09
1944-05-10
1944-05-11
1944-05-12
1944-05-19
1944-05-20
1944-05-21
1944-05-22
1944-05-25
1944-05-28
1944-05-29
1944-05-31
1944-06-01
1944-06-06
1944-06-08
1944-06-11
1944-06-12
1944-06-13
1944-06-14
1944-06-15
1944-06-16
1944-06-23
1944-06-24
1944-06-25
1944-06-30
1944-07-02
1944-07-05
1944-07-06
1944-07-07
1944-07-08
1944-07-12
1944-07-15
1944-07-16
1944-07-18
1944-07-19
1944-07-20
1944-07-21
1944-07-23
1944-07-24
1944-07-25
1944-07-27
1944-07-30
1945
1946
1944-06-05
1678 HCU
26 OTU
514 Squadron
6 BFTS
Advanced Flying Unit
aircrew
bombing
bombing of the Le Havre E-boat pens (14/15 June 1944)
bombing of the Normandy coastal batteries (5/6 June 1944)
bombing of the Pas de Calais V-1 sites (24/25 June 1944)
British Flying Training School Program
Flying Training School
Harvard
Heavy Conversion Unit
Initial Training Wing
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
Lancaster Mk 1
Lancaster Mk 2
Lancaster Mk 3
Lancastrian
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
pilot
RAF Feltwell
RAF Lyneham
RAF Waterbeach
Stearman
tactical support for Normandy troops
Tiger Moth
training
Wellington
York
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1066/32271/BPayneGPayneGv1.1.pdf
56a2f0d01bb4921591ab94fc697c80ee
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
Payne, Geoff
Geoffrey Albert Payne
G A Payne
Description
An account of the resource
Two items. An oral history interview with Geoff Payne (b. 1924, 1584931 Royal Air Force) and his memoir. He flew operations as a wireless operator / air gunner with 115 and 514 Squadrons.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Geoff Payne 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
2017-05-28
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
Payne, G
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
AN AIRMAN’S TALE
By Geoff Payne
[514 Squadron Crest]
[115 Squadron Crest]
[RAF Training Command Crest]
[RAF Bomber Command Crest]
[Picture] Artist’s Impression of Bomber Command Memorial in Hyde Park
[page break]
AN AIRMAN’S TALE
By Geoff Payne
Chapter 1
Under Training (U/T)
Chapter 2
Operations RAF Witchford
Chapter 3
Back on Operations RAF Waterbeach
Chapter 4
Grounded
Chapter 5
As Time Goes By
[page break]
Page 1
An Airman’s Tale By Geoff Payne
The Story of His Time in The Royal Air Force
Chapter 1
Under Training (U/T)
Having attended the Aircrew Assessment Board at Viceroy Close in Birmingham, I passed for aircrew training, given my RAF service number and told to return to work and await my call up documents. This was in August 1942 I was seventeen and a half at that time, an Air Cadet and eager to join the service of my choice. Time seemed to drag over the next few months, air raids had virtually ceased, although fire watching duties at my factory were still a priority and was able to pick up five shillings per night doing this chore, a useful supplement to my apprenticeship wages.
The end of March 1943, my travel documents arrived, together with information that I was to report to the Air Crew Reception Centre (ACRC) at Lords Cricket ground, St John’s Wood, London.
A month later, my family and I stood on platform three at New Street Station awaiting the early train to London, fortunately, a trainee school teacher from my school was also going to ACRC so it was nice to have his company. This was the first time I had been away from home by myself and looked forward to the new experience.
London Euston station was all bustle, full of service personnel manoeuvring around the station looking for directions, we eventually got to the tube station and made our way to St Johns Wood and Lords Cricket ground. What a fascinating experience travelling on these tube trains and, from information gathered, all service personnel could travel anywhere by tube, free of charge. Booking in, we were given a pack of sandwiches, told to hang about for an hour so, spending our time, inspecting the wicket, gazing at the pictures of past players in Lords Taveners and in general, soaking in the atmosphere of the home of cricket.
About fifty of us were assembled and given a general talk on what was to happen during the next hour or so and, told to memorise our service number and to mark every piece of our service clothing and equipment when it was issued.
We were then marched into a hall and ordered to stand behind the gym benches that lined the hall and ordered to strip, including socks, this inspection was known in the services as a FFI (free from infection) then two M/O,s [sic] walked down the lines of naked men checking fingers, toes and nether regions. Modesty went out of the window that afternoon.
When clothed, we marched in single file to the stores where we were issued our uniform and kit then assembled outside the hall to board a service bus that took us to our billet, a set of high rise luxury flats facing Regents Park and the Grand Canal, our block was Stoneleigh Court. All the civilian occupants had been decanted, six airmen were allocated to a room. Quite cosy under the circumstances.
After settling in, we assembled in the main road with our enamelled mug, knife fork and spoon (irons) ready to march to our mess, not knowing at the time, we were to be fed in the London Zoo canteen.
Later that evening our time was spent sprucing up our “best blue”, trying to get a shine on our boots, parcelling up our civilian clothes and in general, just getting sorted
[page break]
Page 2
out ready for our first parade in the morning.
The following morning, we deposited our “civies” [sic] to be posted home, after breakfast we paraded in the main road at eight o’clock, inspected by a sergeant, then marched off to the medical centre for our inoculations and whatever. The RAF medical centre, Abbey Lodge was also a high rise block of luxury flats, half a mile away from our billet, which also doubled as a RAF hospital and surrounded by a fence of black architectural iron work. We were organised in a single file that stretched alongside this fence. here we waited for some time before the file began to move along slowly, up stairs into one room where an orderly drew an armful of blood, up more stairs and into another room, a scratch on the arm for small pox, injections for tetanus and whatever, so it went on until finally we emerged into a courtyard to the rumble of expletives. Not finished yet, now for night vision testing which took over an hour to complete before being marched back to our billet and lunch at the zoo.
During the first week at ACRC the air raid alarm sounded and our group were woken up to go to Abbey Lodge.
As we set out the anti aircraft batteries in Regents Park began to open up and falling shrapnel began to scream on its way down, thankful for our tin hats on that occasion. Arriving at the hospital, the lifts were off so we had to manhandle the bed patients down the stairs on stretchers into the car park situated beneath the block. this was by no means an easy task negotiating ones way down the stair wells, manoeuvring around the sharp corners. The raid continued intermittently for three hours before we could take these patients back to their wards then began a slow walk back to Stoneleigh Court for a well earned rest.
Most of the remaining time at ACRC was taken up with rifle drill, physical training and marching everywhere, however, we had plenty of leisure time to take in the London sights, thankful for the free transport on offer.
One amazing coincidence was meeting up with my cousin Jack Stone whilst wandering around London Zoo.
I knew he had enlisted in the RAF as a boy and trained as an armourer, surprisingly, he was also wearing a white flash in his forage cap, the sign of an aircrew cadet. He had re-mustered and was going forward for air gunner training the same as me, sadly that was the last time I saw him, he was lost on his second tour of operations later in the war. His name is recorded on the walls of The Runnymede Air Force Memorial as having no known grave.
Finally, after four weeks of hard training and feeling fit, we received orders to move as a group to ITW (Initial Training Wing) wherever. Destinations were never broadcast because of security, although we knew the next port of call was Kings Cross Station.
14 ITW RAF Bridlington
Arrived at Kings Cross in full marching order, back pack, side pack, water bottle and kit bag plus a pack of sandwiches to sustain us on our journey. A reasonable journey up to York, then changed over to a non corridor train for the final leg of the trip to the seaside resort of Bridlington. Here we were met by transport which took us into the town to be dropped off in a street of vacated terraced houses. Ten cadets, including my two friends, Vic Lodge from Halifax and Nick Alkemade from Loughborough
[page break]
Page 3
were allocated to one of the houses, a sparsely furnished house without running hot water. We had arrived at 14 ITW RAF Bridlington, Yorkshire.
The messing facilities were located in the Spa Ballroom near to the promenade, an art nouveau type of structure where one could imagine the flappers of the twenties and thirties gyrating around the dance floor, soon to be brought back to reality with the greasy food odour permeating the once splendid ballroom.
Our time at Bridlington was spent on drill during the morning, and being an ex corporal in the ATC, the DI (Drill Instructor) often gave me the opportunity of taking the squad on these exercises. The favourite route was along the promenade where there was always an audience to give us a cheer or on occasions, a humorous comment from “Matelots or Squadies [sic] who were out for a stroll.
The afternoon parades were less exhausting, attending classes on aircraft recognition, a very important aspect of an air gunners job, sessions in a gun turret simulator and boring lectures on KR’s (Kings Regulations). We also had regular excursions to the 303 rifle range and to the Butts for pistol and Sten gun practise, surprisingly these visits became very competitive amongst our group with bets being bandied about.
The most enjoyable afternoon sessions was the visit to the local swimming baths where we could partake of a hot shower, get some dinghy drill in and generally play around in the pool.
All this exercise, the bracing sea air, made us healthily fit and always hungry. There was the NAAFI, a few fish and chip shops and cafes around the town but on this occasion, short of cash we decided to make use of our own mess for “supper”. Usually there was bread, margarine, jam and sometimes the left-overs of a sweet. We were lucky this night, there was plenty of trifle available and tour regret. three of our group including myself, were up all night vomiting and feeling very, very sick. The following morning we had no alternative but to report sick, the doctor immediately diagnosed food poisoning and dispatched us off to hospital, a rambling country house on Flamborough Head, I never looked at nor even consumed trifle again for many a long year.
Five days later, having been discharged from hospital, our group of city airmen were scheduled for posting to Gunnery School in two days time, quite excited and looking forward to our first flying experience. Bridlington had been a pleasant town to be posted to, nice beaches for sunbathing and swimming and ample entertainment in the town. Although our billets had been pretty Spartan we were sorry to say goodbye to this friendly seaside resort..
11 AGS RAF Andreas IOM
We boarded our train at Bridlington Station early evening with no idea the route we were taking, it must have been westwards as the sun was just setting ahead of us. After a lot of stopping and starting, we eventually arrived at Piccadilly Station, Manchester to be allowed of the train and told there was an air raid in progress somewhere in the vicinity. We spent an uncomfortable three hours hanging about the station not knowing when we would be on the move again, luckily the tea bar was open.
Back onto the train feeling tired and hungry, our train clattered on until someone shouted that we were coming into Blackpool as theTower could be seen in the
[page break]
Page 4
distance, no such luck, we ended our train journey in the fishing port of Fleetwood alongside the quay. Tethered to the dock was a one funnel steamer, looking like a cross between a cargo ship and a ferry boat, bringing to mind the John Masefield poem, “Cargoes”.
Feeling miserable and weary after our lengthy train journey, we scrambled aboard this ship and looked for a spot to get some sleep during the four hour sea crossing. Very surprised to find a sort of tea and sandwich bar on board, although welcome, we were disgusted at the exorbitant prices. After an uneventful journey we arrived in Douglas, the capital of the Isle of Man, the home of the TT Races and the tailless moggy.
Disembarking, following roll call, we marched off to the train station to board a very unusual and unique style of rolling stock, most of our group including myself were unaware that an efficient railway system served most of the island. The island scenery was quite lush, hilly and dominated by Snae Fell, the only resemblance to a mountain on the island. Travelling on we by-passed the little town of Peel before arriving at the end of the line, the little fishing port of Ramsey to the north east of the island. Transport met us at the station to take us the short journey to RAF Andreas ready for a welcome meal in the airmens mess after our long drawn out journey from Bridlington.
RAF Andreas was a normal wartime airfield, a mixture of wooden and concrete buildings and sporting the usual three runways. With it’s sister airfield RAF Jurby just four miles from our base, these airfields were built primarily to provide cover for our shipping against the long ranging Condors of the Luftwaffe.
Having been split up into groups of ten, our Gunnery Course was set out with lectures and practical work during the mornings with afternoon sessions flying in the worthy Avro “Annie” Anson.
[picture of Wartime Anson in RAF markings]
Avro Anson
A very comprehensive course started with practical work on the reliable air cooled 303 Browning machine gun, getting to memorise the parts, stripping and assembling and eventually being able to do this job blindfolded with flying gloves on. During these exercises, our instructor timed us with a stop watch, here again bets were being laid and even encouraged by our instructor, I think he was a bit of a gambling man.
[page break]
Page 5
These lectures also included the identification of different types of ammunition by the use of colour coding on the base of the cartridge case as to whether it was tracer, incendiary, armour piercing or general purpose, a calculated mix of all these types of rounds were used operationally.
A very important part of this course was the understanding of the hydraulically operated Frazer Nash gun turret currently in use on the Lancaster and Stirling bombers. It became obvious that we were destined to be operating in either the Stirling or Lancaster aircraft as we never had any instruction on the electrically operated Boulton Paul turret currently in use in the Halifax bomber.
Many hours were spent on the workings of these turrets, the causes of stoppages and rectification, how to obtain an aircraft drift reading by using the movement of the turret against a fixed point on the ground or sea, how to synchronise four guns firing 5000 rounds per minute to achieve the optimum bullet spread over a certain distance. Then there were the visits to the special firing range using fast moving aircraft models at 100 yds distance. Firing from a gun turret was quite an experience although only one Browning was operable for obvious reasons.
Our first exercise in the Anson was a simulated attack by a Miles Martinet, three cadets were allocated to our aircraft, each one of us to take turns in the turret using a camera gun. On all our flying exercise, lots were taken in cranking up or cranking down the undercarriage, quite an exhaustive feat especially winding up the landing gear, some chore 140 turns up or down.
Two more flights with camera guns then on to drogue target practise using a single Vickers machine gun in the turret. Each cadet was allowed 200 rounds of identifiable ammunition, meaning that the tip of each round was dipped in a soft colour paint ie; 200 rounds blue, 200 rounds red, 200 rounds green. If a bullet pierced the drouge[sic], the gunner could then be identified. These exercises varied in many ways, with simulated attacks coming from all directions, finally the last few exercises of our course, were air to ground firing.
A enumber[sic] of bulls eye targets were set up on cliffs to the north end of the island, it must have been upsetting for the bird life in that area.
[picture of X Squad 11 AGS RAF Andreas IOM – Standing 3rd from left Geoff Payne, 5th from left Nick Alkemade]
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Looking in my log book recently, I noted that in just the month of July I had clocked up twenty flying details of roughly an hours duration, mostly with Polish pilots.
During our time at 11 AGS, apart from the occasional guard duty, Saturdays and Sundays were non working days which, gave us the opportunity of exploring the island. The weather during our months course was excellent, so we took advantage of swimming off the charming little coves to the North of the island, there was also a small yachting pool alongside Ramsey harbour with the nearby Enemy Aliens Stockade, a series of commandeered boarding houses, bordering on the nearby Enemy Aliens Stockade, a series of commandeered boarding houses, bordering on the pool. We had previously been warned not to fraternise with the inhabitants of any of these camps. Sitting in a Ramsey pub one Saturday, three aircrew sergeants, all sporting navigators brevets, wandered into the bar, what a surprise to see my brother in the party, they were on a Wireless Operators course at nearby RAF Jurby and destined for operations flying in the “Wooden Wonder” the Mosquito. It would be another four years before I met up with my brother again.
The first week in August 1943 saw the end of our course with, a passing out parade and presentation of our AG,s brevet by a high ranking officer whom, if my memory serves me correctly, was then, Wing Commander Leonard Cheshire.
Not much time to celebrate, within two days we were given our seven days leave passes and travel documents. Pity my two friends were posted to RAF Desbourough[sic] whilst I was posted to RAF Chipping Warden by Banbury, only forty miles from my home and on the London to Birmingham main rail line.
I had enjoyed my time in the Isle of Man but very sad that over the years I have been unable to make a return visit to this interesting island.
12 OUT RAF Chipping Warden
Enjoyed my first seven days leave at home, left in civilian clothes and returned three months later in uniform, sporting three stripes on my sleeve with an AG,s brevet above my breast pocket feeling proud of myself. The seven days passed very quickly with time taken up visiting my relatives, ex workmates and of course my girl friend. Standing on Snow Hill Station waiting for my train back to Banbury, my thoughts brough me back to reality that this war is serious and that I could be on operations by the end of the year.
Chipping Warden was a pre war station, two story[sic] barrack buildings, administration blocks and massive hangers with brick built flight offices attached.
After picking up my bedding I enquired where the billets were and was taken aback when I was directed to a wooden hutted compound, complete with a sergeants mess, outside the main camp confines. This posed the question, are the newly promoted NCO aircrew being discriminated against?
Entering my designated hut I found a motley collection of aircrew including Aussies, Canadians and New Zealander’s, it was then that I discovered that aircrew NCO,s under training had there[sic] own messing and accommodation facilities. Meeting up with my fellow bunk mates, pilots, bomb aimers, wireless operators, navigators and gunners, found difficulty in picking up their accents and slang words. Meeting up with thee airmen, created a great feeling of camaraderie which was almost instantaneous.
The following day was spent doing the usual round of signing in and getting kitted out
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with flying clothing, me being a rear gunner I had special issues, electrical heated Irvine Suit, fur lined heated bootees and gloves, fisherman’s sweater and thermal underwear. All this gear required another kit bag issue which I lugged back to the billet, spending the rest of the day getting to know more about these friendly “Colonials”.
Reporting to Flights next day, the various aircrew trades were segregated, we as gunners went to the firing ranges for some rifle and clay pigeon shooting. During the afternoon we were introduced to the type of aircraft that we would be flying.
[picture of The Vickers Wellington (Wimpy)]
At that time all the aircraft at 12 OUT were all ex operational Wellingtons, virtually “clapped out”, the replacement parts being in short supply creating a shortage of serviceable aircraft. A rotational system of aircrew to aircraft had to be adopted, hence a crew could be flying three to four times in one day utilising the same aircraft.
The course began in earnest with a mixture of circuits and landings, fighter affiliation using camera guns, high and low level bombing, the same such exercises applied to night flying, apart from fighter affiliation exercises. After three weeks of intensive activity, the day came when the CO told the assembled aircrew to get moving on to the satellite station RAF Edge Hill some ten miles west of Chipping Warden.
My bunk mates and I had anticipated being crewed up so we had already sorted ourselves out as a crew, two Aussies, one a pilot from Melbourne, the other, a navigator from Sidney, our bomb aimer from Carshalton and wireless operator from Bognor Regis with myself as rear gunner. Over the past three weeks we had really got on well, that was a good start.
RAF Edge Hill
A typical war time airfield, very dispersed with plenty of walking between sections, built right up to the edge of Edge Hill itself. Due to an indecisive battle fought out between the Royalists of King Charles 1st and the Roundhead Parliamentary forces of Oliver Cromwell, the local population believed that the area was haunted by a headless horseman. Will that be a bad omen? Weird!
This part of our course was to develop these newly formed crews into an efficient operating team, an essential commodity in our own survival and for effectively doing the job that we had enlisted for.
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An intensive programme of night and day cross country flights began, usually incorporating high or low level simulated bombing attacks using small smoke or flare bombs. During our daylight flights we were often buzzed by a fighter, all part of the learning process for air gunners.
On one night exercise, we must have gone miles off track when we encountered a Barrage Balloon which stood on it’s tail as it caught our slipstream, we knew we had entered a defended area when a few bursts of anti aircraft fire appeared not far away. This caused a bit of a panic until our wireless operator fired off the Very pistol with the colours of the day, to our relief that gunfire abated. At de briefing, our navigator learned that, due to a false wind forecast we had strayed close to the defences of Bristol.
Time came to return to Chipping Warden for our crew assessment to be met with news that we were to participate in a Nickel, a leaflet drop to Lille in France, however, the operation was scrubbed due to our aircraft being unserviceable. At OUT’s this type of operation was a normal occurrence enabling proficient aircrews to get in some operational experience. I still have one of those leaflets.
20th of August 1943 was the end of our time at 12 OUT and the faithful old Wellington, the next phase of our training schedule was a posting to RAF Feltwell in Norfolk to undergo an Escape and Evasion course.
RAF Feltwell
RAF Feltwell was a typical pre war brick built airfield with grass runways, then in the process of converting to concrete runways. Upon arrival, surprised to find that there was only a skeleton staff in occupation, apart from a unit of RAF Regiment personnel who were to be our instructors to this Escape and Evasion course. We were joined by six other crews, a total of thirty airmen. In the event of being shot down over enemy territory, the object of the course was to impart some skills that would assist downed airmen to escape or to evade capture. It was a prerequisite for airmen to attempt escaping thereby tying down essential enemy manpower.
The first part of the course was training in the rudiments of enarmed combat, no holds barred, using all the dirty tricks available, the Queensbury rules didn’t apply in dangerous situations one may find oneself in.
Following on this exercise we practised the art of concealment, our five crew members would spread out in some scrubby woodland approximately one mile square, then to conceal themselves the best way they could and, using whatever materials came to hand. The Regiment unit were then sent out to locate us if they could and after a number of attempts this exercise proved useful and effective although one escapee got bitten by an Adder whilst hiding in some gorse bushes. Our final exercise was hilarious, we were taken out at midnight in an enclosed vehicle, dropping two of us off at a time some fifteen miles from the camp with only a box of matches and some cigarettes, no money and told to make our own way back to Feltwell. This exercise proved to be a non event as it began to pour with rain. We had been dropped off on a farm track in the middle of a scrubby wheat field where we found a dilapidated corrugated type of shed. A few fairly clean sacks were lying about and some wooden boxes which gave us an ample supply of fuel for a small cosy fire.
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There we stayed until a farmer with his truck arrived to give us an amount of verbal abuse until we explained that we were on an exercise and would wish a lift back to Feltwell. The truck dropped us off about a mile from the rear of the camp, success! The Regiment were out looking for us that night but we got back into the camp unchallenged and in time for a welcome breakfast.
One memorable occasion during the evening playing cards in the billet, we heard a sort of rumbling noise which got louder and louder. We rushed out of our billet and looked up at the sky, a clear night and almost dark. At about ten thousand feet there must have been hundreds of four engine heavy bombers heading eastwards, an amazing sight. Back in our billet, we contemplated that we could be part of that type of air Armada very shortly.
At the end of our weeks course we were given our travel documents to report to RAF Wratting Common, a Stirling conversion unit which caused much consternation among the crew. We had hoped to avoid operating in Stirlings due to the high loss rate attributed to this aircraft.
1651 Heavy Conversion Unit RAF Wratting Common
Wratting Common was a war time aerodrome situated between Cambridge and Newmarket, it had recently been vacated by 90 Squadron who had operated with the Short Stirling Aircraft. A well dispersed cap, miles from anywhere, the nearest rail station being Six Mile Bottom, three miles from the camp. Mud everywhere, I am sure that if you stepped off the concrete paths you would be a goner.
Settled in our Nisson hut and proceeded to scout round for wood and coke to service our lonely stove, an east wind was blowing in over the low lying expanse of East Anglia, cold enough to try out our new thermal underwear.
Reporting to the flights the following day to meet up with two new crew members, Dick Hollis, Mid Upper Gunner and Cyril Bridges, Flight Engineer making, up our seven man crew. Together with two other crews, we were then taken to a hanger[sic] to get to know this massive aircraft, the Short Stirling.
[photograph of the Short Stirling]
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Spent the afternoon scrambling about this aircraft, proudly showing off the various escape hatches and doorways to my crew. As an apprentice, my company was involved in the manufacture of various component parts associated with the Stirling, as was my girl friends[sic] mother being an electrical inspector on this aircraft.
Our first flights in the Stirling consisted of two three hour sessions of circuits and landings, not at all present, no wonder this exercise is known as “Circuits and Bumps”, we certainly had our share of bumps that day. It was a relief when the Gunnery Leader informed us that all the gunners on the course were to undertake an advanced gunnery course at RAF Newmarket as, there was no point in wasting time just sitting in an aircraft doing circuits and landings. Newmarket was some experience, we were billeted in buildings associated with the racecourse, even the Wellington based there took off from the racecourse.
This gunnery course took place over the North Sea and was more realistic using the same type of gun turrets that we would use on operations. Spitfires simulated the attacks and our Wellington would be doing the defensive manoeuvre of corkscrewing.
On the firing exercises we were either in the front or the rear turret firing at a drogue being towed by a Miles Martinet. Our time at Newmarket was very instructive being trained by ex operational air gunners. I am positive that by imparting their experiences gave me confidence for the task ahead.
Back at Wratting Common to find that we had lost our Australian pilot, they had been engaged on circuits and landings at RAF Downham Market when the starboard outer engine failed when coming in to land, the wing dipped and struck the ground causing the aircraft to crash. Our pilot sustained a severe head wound but was dragged to safety by the Flight Engineer. Apart from a few bruises the rest of crew escaped unhurt although the aircraft was a write off. The accident allowed us to take a fortnights leave over Christmas and New Year awaiting the arrival of a new pilot.
Festivities over, back to Wratting Common we met up with our new pilot F/O Bill Martin an experienced pilot on twin engine aircraft, it did not take him long to master this giant of the sky. Just a few day and night exercises of circuits and landings then on to long distance three to four hour cross country flights.
After nearly forty hours flying time converting to Stirlings our course finished abruptly when we were informed that as a crew we would be moving onto RAF Waterbeach to convert on to Lancasters. A quiet feeling of relief when word came that due to the heavy loss rate on German targets, Stirlings were being withdrawn from the main thrust of Bomber Commands activities.
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1678 Heavy Conversion Unit RAF Waterbeach
[photograph of Lancaster Mark II (Note: Flying on one engine)]
What a great feeling to get away from Wratting Common with it’s isolation and mud to arrive at a pre war brick built camp with all the amenities, a regular bus service into Cambridge, three pubs in the village and comfortable billets.
Accordingly to the talk around the camp, we were to convert onto the Lancaster 2 with Bristol Hercules radial air cooled engines as opposed to the Merlin inline liquid cooled engines. According to records, there were only five squadrons allocated this type of aircraft, three Canadian and two British. Just over three hundred were build by the Armstrong Whitley Company in Coventry as a stop gap, due to a shortage of Merlin engines and a surplus of Hercules engines. This Lancaster was a strange looking aircraft, but apart from it’s ceiling, the performance was comparable to the original Lancaster.
Within a week of arriving at Waterbeach, with only seven hours day and six hours night flying exercises under our belt we were considered capable of joining a squadron. Unfortunately, due to the Stirlings being phased out, a bottle neck seemed to have occurred throughout the squadrons of Three Group, consequently, our crew were sent to a holding unit at RAF Stradishall for two weeks before being awarded a seven days leave prior to our operational posting to 115 Squadron at RAF Witchford by Ely.
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Chapter 2
Operations RAF Witchford
After seven days of a very welcome leave, I arrived at Liverpool Street Station, London, early afternoon, joining up with three members of my crew, Sid Longhurst our Wireless Operator, Joe Waple, Bomb Aimer and Cyril Bridges our Flight Engineer. As usual, the train full of servicemen, mainly RAF, stopped at every station en route to Ely, destined for the many aerodromes scattered about East Anglia. Dusk was approaching giving the flat frosty landscape a look of foreboding which added to the apprehension that was building up inside me. Even the idle chatter failed to divert my thoughts away from the task that we had so flamboyantly volunteered for.
Arriving at Ely, the crew bus picked us up with all our gear and drove the short distance to Witchford camp, collected our bedding before being dropped off at our billet. Here we met up with our Mid Upper Gunner Dick Hollis and our Australian Navigator.
RAF Witchford, a Nisson huttet[sic] camp, recently vacated by 196 Stirling Squadron. The domestic site was situated to the rear of the village of Witchford with our billet directly behind The Shoulder of Mutton public house as it was named in those days. The administration area and airfield was situated at the eastern end of the village with the main runway start, close on the borders of Ely itself, a camel trek from our billet.
The following day was very cold, a hoar-frost covered the trees as we went about getting our bearings and doing the usual business of signing in at the various sections of the camp ie medical, transport, parachute section etc eventually arriving at C Flight to be designated a locker for our flying kit. Our Pilot, F/O Bill Martin arrived on the scene and introduced his NCO crew to the C Flight Commander, Sqd Leader George Mackie.
[photograph of the crew] L to R Back Row; Sid Longhurst W/op Cyril Bridges F/eng Dick Hollis M/u Jim Henry Nav
Seated; Geoff Payne R/g Bill Martin Pilot Joe Waple B/a [/photograph of the crew]
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Early next morning February 5th 1944, reporting to the Gunnery Leaders office, I meet up with F/Lt Eric Bilson who casually informed me that I was on the Battle Order for that nights[sic] operation, briefing at 19.45hrs. I would be joining the crew of P/O Speirenberg as their rear gunner for that nights[sic] operation.
During the afternoon, met up in the Sergeants mess, some of the crew with whom I was to fly with that night. Most of the afternoon was spent moping about the Mess trying to allay the nervous tension with a “cat nap” or a lot of idle chatter. This operation was to be the first for P/O Speirenberg and his crew, we were indeed a “sprog” crew.
Time came for our operational meal of bacon, eggs and fried bread, a luxury in those days, then the leisurely stroll to briefing along the ain street of Witchford to the admin site. Here we were directed to a large Nisson hut, on guard at the entrance stood two white capped service police looking very ossicious. Our pilot and navigator had already been briefed and were awaiting us at a large trestle table. Introductions all round, we sat waiting for the formal proceedings to begin. A command from the back of the hall brought us to attention when the squadron hierarchy marched to the front, led by the squadron commander.
[photograph] RAF Witchford Briefing (I am seated forefront left) [/photograph]
Stepping on to the dais, the CO wished us a good evening before withdrawing the curtain covering a blackboard showing a large map of Europe. Starting at Witchford, a red ribbon stretched out, crossing the North sea, meandering across France and finally ending way down in southern Germany. Gentlemen, your target for tonight is Augsberg, announced the CO to gasps from the assembled crews, many had recently operated on some very difficult and long distance sorties, including a number of Berlin raids.
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Following the CO,s briefing on the importance of this target, the M.A.N. works, we were briefed by the section leaders as to fuel and bomb loads, weather conditions, intelligence reports on enemy flack areas and industrial installations etc with a final word from the CO wishing us good luck. My own thought at that moment was, we will need all the good luck we can get.
Our pilot, a South African, gathered his “sprog crew” together, and trundled of[sic] to the flights to change into our flying gear and to pick up a thermos of coffee, flying rations, a few biscuits, barley sugars and “wakey wakey pills” (Benzedrine) plus my lucky Golliwog which my girl friend had made for me. Not too long before our transport arrived with it’s WAAF driver who would take us out to our aircraft dispersal pan.
At dispersal we chatted to our ground crew and chain smoked until it was time to climb aboard our aircraft M for mother. As a crew, we had not air tested our aircraft during the day so, each crew member did his own preliminary checks prior to start up.
A green Very light rose from the control tower then one by one the powerful Hercules engines roared into life, disturbing the roosting bird life and breaking the eerie silence of the darkened evening. Our skipper called up for crew reports if everything was Ok before waving chocks away, a short burst of engine power we began moving forward on to the perimeter track following a long line of Lancaster’s trundling towards the start of the east-west runway. On to the main runway, I was surprised to see a number of airmen and WAAF’s congregating alongside the Control Caravan waving their arms wishing us god speed.
The green Aldis lamp signalled us to go, and with a mighty roar from our four engines we sped down the runway taking off at 21-45 hrs thereon setting course for our turning point on the East Anglian coast. There we would be joining a bomber stream of almost 600 heavies on their seven and a half hours operation into the heart of Germany. The German air defences would already be aware that a heavy air attack was being prepared because they were able to pick up the RT traffic emanating from the large amount of air tests being carried out from the airfields of Eastern England during that morning.
Crossing the North Sea our Bomb Aimer called up to announce enemy coast ahead, a term that I had heard many times while watching such films as “One of Our Aircraft is Missing”. I never thought at the time that I would hear it for real which brought about an awesome feeling of apprehension, we were going into battle from which there was no opt our clause. We were going to war.
Now at our operational height of 18500 ft, above cloud and beginning to feel the intense cold, the condensation from my oxygen mask started to dribble down onto my Irvin suite[sic] where it froze solid.
Apart from a few searchlights and spasmodic flak activity away from our track, the journey across Germany was uneventful until our Bomb Aimer reported target ahead, seeing the Pathfinders red ground markers falling. Approaching the target, our aircraft began to be buffeted about from the slipstream of other aircraft converging on to the aiming point. The Master Bomber happily giving instructions as to what colour markers to bomb on.
Our squadron was in the second wave, the air defences were by now fully alerted with the many searchlights weaving about the sky accompanied by heavy flak, sometimes a
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loud crump as a shell burst close to our aircraft sending the acrid smell of cordite wafting into my turret. Lancasters and Halifaxes seemed to be closing in upon us, our bomb doors came open, and almost spontaneously, the Lancaster flying above us opened it’s bomb doors, my right leg began to jerk uncontrollably wondering if their bombs were going to hit us. Bombs away, bomb doors closed, nose down for a little more speed before setting course for home. By now my leg jerking had ceased and looking down into the target area it was like grazing into a giant cupola of molten metal, heaving and bubbling, a truly awesome site.[sic] Another glance down, I saw six ME109’s flying in formation three and three, well down below us silhouetted against the flow of the fire with their with[sic] navigation lights on. Very weird!
As we cleared the target area, a burst of tracer from the starboard quarter passed over us followed by a ME 109 crossing fast above our aircraft. The Mid Upper gunner and myself managed to get in a short burst but the fighter disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. I think that this 109 had his sights on another aircraft.
Heading for home, I could still see the glow from the destruction that we had caused even after an hours flying time. A few fighter flares, spasmodic bursts of flak and the odd searchlight were seen but way off our track, however ! we still kept our vigilance as these were the occasions with your guard was down, fighter attacks occurred.
Feeling very tired and cold we landed back at Witchford at 05-15hrs after a seven and a half hour flight then transported directly to de-briefing. A welcome cup of tea and a generous swig of rum in a chipped enamelled mug awaited us, served up by one of the cheerful WAAF’s, followed by a welcome breakfast.
Back to my billet, my own crew were away on a cross country exercise that day which left me completely alone thinking of that horrendous nights operation before dropping of[sic] to a very disturbed sleep.
According to records, the Augsberg operation proved successful although 21 heavies were lost on that raid, the equivalent to the loss of a squadron.
Due to adverse weather conditions on the continent Bomber Command was relieved of operations for the next seven days. This respite allowed our squadron to re-group, taking in a series of training flights and air tests. The break also gave us the opportunity of exploring the ancient city of Ely with it’s magnificent Cathedral, the little tea shops or just strolling the banks of the river Cam. There was also the unforgettable boozy evenings in the Lamb and other hostelries entailing a three mile stagger back to Witchford.
The third of March brought us back to reality when the Battle Order was pinned on the mess notice board indicating that operations were on that night and our crew were to participate. At briefing, the usual rigmarole, then naming Stuttgart as our target for the night, another southern Germany flight of six and a half hours. Our take of[sic] time was put back two hours due to the fore-casted weather conditions on our return, new take off time now 23-45 hrs.
An uneventful flight out with lots of thick cloud at various ceilings en-route until we neared our target, then clear skies above and 10/10ths cloud below us, illuminated by the many searchlights and exposing the bomber force to the higher flying German night fighters. The Master Bomber brough us in to bomb on the red sky markers (Wanganui flares) our bomb aimer began his instructions then, bombs away. Our pilot turned away from the target and requested a course for home but received no response
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from the navigator. Our flight engineer went back to find out if we had a casualty but, found the navigator was refusing to do his job. This caused a nasty verbal confrontation between the navigator and pilot who then ordered our bomb aimer to find a temporary course back as there was no possibility of trying to continue on the route set out at briefing.
This serious set back put our aircraft and crew in a very dangerous situation, not on track with the bomber stream, we were liable to being picked off by enemy fighters. Although the cloudy conditions at various levels gave us a modicum of cover, we were virtually alone in the heart of Germany, running tight on fuel and a navigator still refusing to do his job. Thankfully we had a very experienced pilot and our bomb aimer had a good knowledge of navigation. After flying in and out of cloud for some time and diverting occasionally to avoid defended areas the bomb aimer reported coastline and English Channel ahead, well south of our projected route.
Immediately our pilot radioed that we were running low on fuel and requested an emergency. Crossing the English coast, two searchlights lit up indicating a flare path, one circuit and we were down. We had landed at RAF Manston in Kent at 06-30 hrs with just fifteen minutes of fuel in our tanks, a flight of nearly seven hours.
While our pilot was at the officers mess, we tried to reason with our navigator but to no avail. Later in the day we were transported to our refuelled aircraft and took off on the 45 minutes flight back to Witchford, our bomb aimer doing the map reading.
Arriving back at Witchford dispersal awaiting transport, a staff car arrived with two service policemen. After consulting our pilot, the navigator was apparently arrested and taken away in the staff car. That was the last time that we saw our navigator, even after the war, we have been unable to trace him.
According to records this Stuttgart raid was highly successful with 557 heavies participating in the operation and only four heavies lost.
During the next few days, we carried out a series of training flights, including an abortive five and a half hours North Sea rescue search which classed as an operation.
On the 18th of March, with the Navigation Leader on board, our crew was listed on the nights Battle Order, the target Frankfurt, a heavily defended large industrial town with the massive factory complex of the IG Farben Industrie. Take off time 20-30 hrs.
The flight out was uneventful apart from a number of exchanges of tracer fire seen away in distance but, as we approached the target, many fighter flares lit up the sky. The target area was less cloudy than on the trip out and as we went into bomb, masses of searchlights were probing the sky. With the continuous red flashes of bursting shells, light flak tracer coupled with the crump of heavy flak, one wondered how anything could penetrate these defences let alone make it through the target area unscathed. However! We made it through and headed on track for home when a twin engine aircraft appeared astern and below at about 400yds, it was a Me 110 closing in on us. I switched on my mike to alert the crew to be ready to corkscrew but, the mike was dead, frozen up with condensation. Taking off my glove, I attempted to scratch away the ice that had collected in my oxygen mask but to no avail. I then tried to contact the crew using the emergency light button but no response was forthcoming. As the fighter closed underneath our aircraft, I got a good bead on it’s nose area and pressed the trigger. A two second burst and all four guns jammed leaving us completely at the mercy of the Me 110, the rest of the crew being unaware of the desperate situation that was to unfold.
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Suddenly there was a number of loud bangs, our aircraft shook and the strong smell of cordite permeated my oxygen mask. The aircraft began to manoeuvre violently as if out of control and with no information coming through on the intercom, panic set in, thinking that the crew were either dead or wounded. As I could not be of use in my turret, without an communication and my guns out of action, I decided to find out what was happening. Clipping on an emergency oxygen bottle I began to work my way up the fuselage when I noticed the main door flapping open and the M/u gunner gone. A horrible feeling came over me as I thought that the crew had baled out and left me to my fate. Looking up and around the M/u gunners position, there were bullet and cannon shells in the fuselage, an intercom junction box shattered, the gunners helmet hanging on the foot stirrups.
Our aircraft began to level out as I made my way up the fuselage, drawing aside the gangway curtain, to my relief the W/op and the navigator were settling down. Reporting that the M/u gunner had baled out, I went back to sit in my turret contemplating that if we got attacked again, we didn’t have the capability of defending ourselves. However! The rest of the journey was uneventful apart from my turret electrics being out of action which left me at the mercy of the bitter cold.
When we were almost back home, my oxygen mask off, I could smell something burning. I opened the doors of my turret and saw a yellow glow emanating from one of the ammunition panniers and reported to our pilot that we had a fire, he immediately requested a priority landing. After the engines were cut I raked out the belt of ammunition from the pannier and found that an incendiary bullet had penetrated the pannier and lodged in between the rounds of ammunition. Luck seemed to be on our side again, if this incendiary bullet had penetrated a cartridge casing, there would have been an almighty explosion.
After de-briefing I was taken to the sick bay to be checked for frost bite, the ends of two fingers on my left hand were numb due to scratching out the ice in my oxygen mask. After an overnight stay in sick quarters, the MO declared me fit for duty.
According to records this raid was successful with 829 heavies taking part in the attack with the loss of 22 aircraft.
Two days later, on the 22nd of March, we were detailed for operations again to Frankfurt, this announcement caused an air of dismay amongst our crew having lost two of our original crew members over the last two operations. However! we were fortunate in having the Gunnery Leader as our M/u gunner and the Navigation Leader on board again. Take off time 19-00hrs.
Over 800 heavies were detailed for this raid, a well planned diversionary route to the target was detailed which caused problems for the German night fighter force. Nothing of real concern encountered during the flight out but, being in the third wave, the defences were fully deployed by the time we arrived. Around the target area we were met by a terrifying barrage of flak with many searchlights weaving about the sky. We bombed then, flew on through this heavily defended area and, as we turned on to our course for home, a blue master searchlight came on astern of our aircraft.
I reported to our pilot that the searchlight was closing in upon us and coming closer, closer, closer, it’s got us. Immediately, our pilot put the aircraft into an almost vertical dive which caused all four engines to cut, then came the crackling on the intercom “prepare to abandon aircraft”. Opening my turret doors I struggled out and unclipped my parachute from it’s housing before dragging myself into the fuselage. The aircraft
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was still diving and I thought “this is it” there was no way that I could reach the doorway as I was floating about in mid air. Luckily the engines picked up again, with a mighty roar the aircraft began to pull out of its dive pinning me to the fuselage floor by the G forces. When the aircraft levelled out I made my way back into the turret and found that we were flying very low, almost in a valley with a river beneath us and searchlights crossing the valley almost horizontally. The intercom came on “pilot to crew we are going home now chaps” to a muffled response of “hear hear”. or words to that effect.
On the way back I began to have a peculiar sensation of throbbing in my hands, something akin to how chilblain’s feel until I realised that during the scramble to get out of my turret my heated gloves had come detached from my Irvin Suit. I tried desperately to reconnect my gloves but found it impossible, due to the numbness in my hands. My hands didn’t seem unduly cold, I wasn’t even bothered until we landed back at Witchford. After de-briefing the MO examined my hands that had started to blister, a sure sign of frost bite. I was immediately transported to the RAF hospital at Ely and put to bed, both hands being tied up to the bed rail.
Spent a couple of weeks in the ward having my hands dressed three times a day with mentholated spirits then allowed out, dressed in hospital blue. For a few hours each day, along with a couple of other patients, we wandered around Ely sampling the many tea rooms, the pubs were out of bounds to servicemen dressed in hospital blue.
One interesting feature at the time was wandering down by the river Cam and witnessing the actual Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race taking place on the river because London was too dangerous at that time to hold the event.
After another week in hospital, the blisters on my hands disappeared, the top skin had peeled and I was getting plenty of movement in my fingers so the doctor discharged me and gave me a few days sick leave.
Back at Witchford I learned that my friend Sgt Nick Alkemade and his crew had been lost on the previous Berlin raid and also that the squadron had lost two of its aircraft when they were shot down by a ME 410 intruder as they were coming into land after a raid on Rouen.
Reporting to the MO the following day and told that I was posted to 75 New Zealand squadron at RAF Mepal, just four miles down the road from Witchford. Sad to say farewell to the remainder of my crew with whom I had trained and flew with over the past few months, incidentally, that crew completed their tour of operations.
Spent a couple of weeks at Mepal just kicking my heels until the Gunnery Leader told me that I was posted and to report to 514 squadron at RAF Waterbeach awaiting my medical assessment.
In closing this chapter I would like to make reference to my friend Nick Alkemade.
Their aircraft was returning from a raid on Berlin when they were attacked by a JU88, setting the Lancaster on fire. The pilot ordered the crew to bale out but, the rear gunner found that his parachute was ablaze, his oxygen mask began to melt on his face, leaving him no alternative but to jump, better a quick death than being burned alive. He abandoned his aircraft at 18.000 ft and landed in a huge snow drift, high in the Hartz Mountains and eventually to[he] became a prisoner of war.
His story is well documented in the records of 115 Squadron and the RAF
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[photocopy extract] Log Book Copy of the Frankfurt Action
[photocopy extract] Medical Report
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[photocopy extract] [underlined] Combat Report [/underlined]
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[photocopy extract] [underlined] Combat Report [/underlined]
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Chapter 3
Return to Ops RAF Waterbeach
514 Squadron was formed at RAF Foulsham in September 1943 as part of 3 Group and began operations in November 1943 flying Bristol Hercules radial engined Mk2 Lancaster’s before relocating to RAF Waterbeach for the rest of the war until disbanded in August 1945 Arrived at Waterbeach and deposited on the ground floor of one of the H Blocks. RAF Waterbeach was a pre war aerodrome with all the facilities one could wish for. Hot and cold water, baths and showers within the billet and only fifty yards to the Sergeants Mess, Luxury indeed as opposed to the Spartan conditions which prevailed at Witchford. The rest of the inhabitants of my billet were all aircrew awaiting medical assessment prior to being returned to operational duties and were known as the “Odd Bods”. Some were recovering from wounds, frostbite, or illness and would be joining other crews when declared fit. In the meantime, we were all allocated some useful task to keep us fully occupied until we were returned to operational duties.
Together with another air gunner and as senior NCOs we were allocated airfield defence which meant on occasions being in charge of the perimeter guard or of manning the guns at either end of the main runway when the squadron was operating. This duty was necessary due to the frequency of German intruders who followed the bomber stream back to their bases. One night as I was manning the guns on the downwind end of the main runway awaiting the return of the squadron, I saw a twin engined aircraft approaching the runway and got a bead on it. As it came closer I noticed that it had it’s port undercarriage down but to my relief this aircraft turned out to be a Mosquito, obviously, in trouble coming in down wind. It must have landed half way down the runway in a shower of sparks then, a terrific bang and flames lit up the sky. After about five minutes the field phone rang to inform me that I could stand down as the squadron had been diverted. Three days later the station adjutant informed me that as I had recently been promoted to Flight Sergeant, I was to take the funeral parade for the two airmen that had perished in that Mosquito crash.
During my time “convalescing”, there was ample time to get involved with the many recreational activities on the station. One such time was the visit by a dramatic group with Margaret Lockwood taking the lead ni a play by and directed by Terrance Rattigen. On another occasion the RAF film unit arrived on camp to get the feel and film some aspects of an operational squadron. Among the group was the famous American actor Edward G Robinson with a retinue of lowly airmen who were to participate in this documentary/film although in later would become famous, such names as Dickie Attenborough, George Cole, David Tomlinson and a few others. This film became a box office success entitled “Journey Together” a copy of which I now treasure.
Very soon the “honeymoon” would be over, a message came over the Tannoy for me to report to the Medical Officer who told me to pick up transport the following day
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and report to the RAF hospital at Ely for my final medical assessment. A friendly type of third degree took place and, eventually I was passed fit for flying and would return to Waterbeach operational. Back at Waterbeach I reported to the Gunnery Leader and had a pleasant chat with him concerning my interview with the Medical Board. He told me that they were trying to ascertain if I was “swinging the lead” as frostbite was considered, in the first instance a self inflicted wound and that the recipient had to prove otherwise. With that, I was given first option of joining a crew when a vacancy arose and ordered to report at the gunnery office the following day and every day. D Day came and went and as I was now operational I was excused normal station duties so, I spent much of my time flying in the Link Trainer or knocking about in the cricket nets or even swimming in the river Cam. Bomber Command had switched from attacking the industrial cities of Germany to supporting the advancing allied armies by attacking German troop concentrations, communications, flying bomb sites/storage areas as well the many oil plants.
Reporting to the Gunnery Office July the 7/th, to my delight was informed that I would be flying that night with F/sgt Witwood’s crew as M/u gunner, as their own gunner was off sick with a bad stomach Target for the night was Vaires railway marshalling yard Paris and was part of the plan to disrupt the German supply route to the Normandy battlefields. Take off time 22-30 just as darkness was falling.
Flying as a M/u gunner was a new experience for me with great views all around. A fairly direct route to the target, plenty of searchlight activity but the flak was nowhere near as heavy as my experience of German targets. A well concentrated attack without the loss of aircraft possibly due to another attack on a flying bomb storage depot at St-leu-d’esserent north of Paris where enemy fighters claimed thirty aircraft. Landed back at base after a 4hr 45min flight.
On the 10th July I was with F/sgt Witwood’s crew again on my first daylight raid for an attack on a flying bomb dump at Nucourt. Take off time 04-04hrs uneventful trip with light flak at the target area which was covered in cloud. Landed back at base at 07-45hrs F/sgt’s Witwoods crew completed their tour of ops and all survived the war. Five days later I was to join a crew who’s R/gunner had lost a foot from a predicted flak shell which had penetrated his current and continued on to it’s predicted height before exploding. F/O Cossets crew were, navigator F/O Jimmie Gould a Scot from Kilmarnock, F/eng R J Flint from Motherwell, B/a FO Billie Lees Canada, W/op F/O Hayden, M/u Sgt Dennis Young, with myself as rear gunner. As there was four officers in the crew, socialising as a crew never arose, however, the M/upper gunner Dennis Young became firm friends until he passed away in 2008. It will be a mammoth task to describe all the remaining operations in detail so will pick out some of the more interesting ones as I detail all the operations at 514 sad.
15/16th July 44 My first trip with my new crew was a night operation to Chalons sur Marne a railway marshalling yard, a trip of six and a half hours.
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18.th [sic] July 44 Daylight raid to Amieville to attack enemy troop concentrations. Arriving at base at 00-70 [sic] hrs and informed to be ready for operations again that night
18/19th July 44 Night attack on the rail junctions at Auloyen, flak was moderate but in the distance, another attack was taking place at the rail junction at Revigny with fighter rockets seen. Back at base 00-40 [sic] hrs very tired but ready for a seven day leave.
Back from leave, we practised formation flying for a few days in preparation of deep penetration behind the German lines but once again Bomber Harris still wanted to continue his attacks against German industrial towns hence, another night trip into the heart of Germany.
28/29th July 44 Detailed to attack Stuttgart which was to be the third heavy raid by Bomber Command against Stuttgart in seven days.
Fairly clear moonlight night, fighter flares began to illuminate the sky as we approached the French/German border with a number of combats taking place north of our track. It seems as though the German Radar had correctly forecast our target owing to the amount of searchlights waving about the target area. Very heavy flak as we went into bomb with usual buffeting about, turning for home I spotted a number of Me 109’s scurrying about, silhouetted against the fires. The return journey was uneventful although these were the times that a marauding fighter could catch you unawares. After an eight hour flight we landed back at base at 04-00 hrs. Later we were to learn that 39 aircraft had been lost on this raid against the five hundred that had participated.
30th July Daylight raid to Normandy in support of our ground troops who were ready to advance against the stubborn resistance of a German mechanised division. Caen target area B was our aiming point, orange smoke was deployed as the British front line, and we were to bomb east of that line at 4000 ft.
Going in to attack we were met by a lot of light flak which subsided appreciably as the Germans took cover. I don’t know how anyone could have survived such a concentrated battering that I had witnessed.
3rd Aug 44 Daylight operation to Bois de Cassan flying bomb storage sites, four hours flying time.
4th Aug 44 Daylight raid Bec d Ambes oil storage port on the Gironde Estuary (of The Cockleshell Heroes fame) leading into Bordeaux.
Take off time 1330 hrs To avoid being detected by the German RADAR we were detailed to fly out below 4000 ft. Setting course in close formation, we joined up with other squadrons at Falmouth Cornwall then out to sea heading for the Bay of Biscay, an area notorious for patrols of Ju 88’s. Nearing the French coast we climbed to our bombing height then went into bomb. The attack was extremely successful as I could see the storage tanks on fire and a tanker alongside the jetty listing badly. Very strange that there was only light flak in the vicinity, it being obvious that we had caught the defences unawares
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Relative pleasant journey on the way back but it must have been quite a strain for our pilot flying at that low level. A couple of our Mosquito escorts buzzed us on the way home which was gratifying. Back at base after an eight hour flight and ready for a 48 hr pass
8/9th Aug 44 Night operation Forte de Luchieux, munition storage dumps and depots.
12/13 Aug 44 Back to the German industrial towns with a night operation to Russelsheim by Frankfurt on Main. Target, the Opal factories who were manufacturing aircraft and military vehicles. Very apprehensive as, this was my third visit to Frankfurt and held many unpleasant memories. Clear night with heavy flak and many searchlights and fighter flares. Incident free trip but losses were high, losing thirty aircraft, a loss rate of 6.7 percent
16/17th Aug 44 Loud groans from the assembled crews as the target Stettin was revealed, a Polish port away in the Baltic. We were to adopt the same tactics as employed in the successful daylight raid on Bec de Ambes and to fly out below 4000 ft under the RADAR screen. A diversionary raid would also take place against Kiel in an attempt to confuse the German defences.
Take off time 2100 hrs we set out over the North Sea, crossing over the northern tip of Denmark. To the north we could see the lights of Stockholm with one or two searchlights wafting about, accompanied by a few bursts of flak. I think they were warning us to keep clear although, I knew that some of our aircraft had wandered into Swedish neutral airspace.
Continuing on over the Baltic we began to gain height in preparation to attack. Not many searchlights about With [sic] a moderate amount flak we bombed and turned away dropping very quickly down to almost sea level for our flight back home. Uneventful trip back to base after a [sic] eight and a half hours flight.
It seemed as though the tactics employed on that raid were successful, with Stettin being very badly damaged, unfortunately our squadron lost one aircraft crashing in Denmark on the return flight.
Five aircraft were lost on that raid.
19/20th Aug 44 Night operation to Bremen. Very heavily defended and reports indicate that this raid on Bremen was the most devastating of the war. Uneventful trip
21st Aug 44 Converted to Lancaster III s Merlin engines
25th Aug 44 Operations Vincly. Flying Bomb site and storage depot in the Pas de Calais area. Watched a Lancaster spiral into the ground, two parachutes deployed.
26/27 Aug 44 Night attack on Kiel
6th Sept 44 Operations Le Harve. [sic] German fortifications and transport
20th Sept 44 Operations Calais enemy troop concentrations
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[black and white arial photograph of Calais]
[underlined] Attack on Calais [/underlined]
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Picture taken during the R.A.F. attack on Calais in September. Calais was bombed by large forces for two and a half hours.
BRITISH OFFICIAL PHOTOGRAPH NO. CL. 1200. (XP)
(Air Ministry Photograph – Crown Copyright Reserved)
R.A.F. BOMBER COMMAND’S ATTACK ON CALAIS.
Picture shows:- Under the pall of smoke lie heavily defended positions four miles West of Calais. The picture was taken during R.A.F. Bomber Command’s attack on 20.9.44. when large forces of Lancasters and Halifaxes bombarded Calais for nearly two and a half hours. Two aircraft can be seen flying over the target. The craters at the top of the photograph were caused by bombs dropped from aircraft in the opening stages of the attack. (Picture issued September. 1944)
[underlined] Attack on Calais [/underlined]
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23/24 Sep 44 Night attack on Neuss (Ruhr) Heavily defended
25th Sept 44 Operations Calais enemy troop positions
26th Sept 44 Operations Cap Griz Nes enemy troop concentrations.
28th Sept 44 Operations Calais enemy troop concentrations
[copy of a navigation plot chart]
F/Lt Nye Navigation Plot Westkapelle 3-10-44
3rd Oct 44 Daylight operation to Westkapelle. The target shown was the Dutch island of Walcheren at the approaches to the port of Antwerp on the river Scheldt. We were informed that the target was strategically important as the Germans were denying the Allies the use of the port of Antwerp and was required for the supply of material for our advancing armies. The object of the raid was to breach the dyke’s and to flood the island purposely to neutralise the German forces established there.
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I was feeling rather disturbed that we were going to flood vast tracts of land that had taken years to establish and concern for the population who had suffered four years of hardship and deprivation during the German occupation
Take off time 1207 hrs. Reaching our rendezvous point there seemed to be hundreds of four engine aircraft converging before heading out over the North sea. Dropping down to our bombing height we approached our target and dropped our 8000 lb bomb which according to our bomb aimer, got a direct hit on the dyke. Passing over the target I saw that the dyke had been breached with the sea gushing through the gaps. Due to the concentration of German forces on the island there was an enormous amount of light and heavy flak as we turned for home, however it was thankful that no enemy fighters were seen over the target area but we still had to keep a watchful eye open as there were many enemy fighter airfields in Holland. Back at base after a two and a half hours flight, after “interrogation” we repaired to our mess for a meal and a pint to celebrate our M/uppers 20th birthday.
Some time later I was to learn that my best friend, a Marine, was killed during the assault on the island of Walcheren at Westkapelle. They attacked through the breaches that we had made in the dyke.
[black and white arial photograph of the dykes at Westkapelle]
Breaching the Dykes at Westkapelle 3-10-44
5/6th Oct 44 Night operation to Saabrucken to attack marshalling yards and steelwork installations This raid was at the request of General Patton in preparation for the American forces offensive along the Southern front in an attempt to stem the flow of German reinforcements to that front. Heavy flak in the target area, no fighters seen.
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7th Oct 44 Daylight operation to Emmerich a German town on the border with Holland. Synthetic oil installations and German supply were to be attacked.
It was the first time that we had been ordered to fly in formation, our two sister squadrons, 115 ahead and 75 New Zealand squadron behind us. Other groups and squadrons had made similar arrangements. As we neared the German/Dutch border very accurate flak opened up which immediately dispersed the Bomber stream. The lead Lancaster of 75 squadron who was following us took a direct hit and completely disintegrated, the wreckage slowly drifting to earth, a very
[black and white photograph of a Lancaster taking a direct flak hit]
75 New Zealand Squsdron Lancaster taking a direct flak hit.
disconcerting sight. Clear sky’s [sic] over the target which we bombed on the PFF flares accurately but as we closed our bomb door an enormous crump shook our aircraft and shrapnel rattled along the fuselage, putting my turret and M/uppers out of action. The hydraulics had been severed somewhere leaving us to operate our turrets by hand, not a good position to be in, although we were supposed to have an escort of Mosquito’s. [sic] Arriving back at base there was some concern that we would be unable to activate the undercarriage owing to the problem with the hydraulics, however, the undercarriage dropped down perfectly.
We delivered U for uncle to the hanger for repair and said a fond farewell to the lady. That was my 29th operation and keeping my fingers crossed that number 30 would be an easy one ?????
14th Oct 44 Briefing 05-00 hrs Taken aback when the target was revealed, a daylight attack on the Ruhr town of Duisburg one of the most heavily defended areas in
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Germany, dangerous enough at night. This is me going out with a bang one way or another. As we were to have a fighter escort, the flight out was uneventful until we were approaching the target area, there were nearly a thousand heavy bombers converging towards then passing through what seemed to be a black haze intermingled with deep red flashes of exploding flak shells. As we dropped our bombs, I looked down to see the fires and the ground erupting, a truly awesome site. Soon we were out of the Ruhr defences heading back to Waterbeach feeling slightly more relaxed but still scanning the sky’s [sic] for the unexpected fighter to jump us. Landing back at base I felt that the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders and what a relief to be looking forward to a fortnights leave in a couple of days [sic] time.
At de-briefing, the C/o said that operations were on again that night and read out the crews who were to participate. All gunners who were not flying that night were to report, to the bomb dump to assist the armourers to bomb up again. That included me.
The following day I learned that our squadron Had followed up on our raid with a night attack on Duisburg in the company of almost a thousand bombers.
Two days later, the crew celebrated the completion of our tour of operations at The Eagle, a well know hostelry in Cambridge.
Off on leave then, as a redundant airman, I was given a posting to the Aircrew Re assessment Centre at RAF Brackla by Nairn, Northern Scotland, jokingly this station was known as Brigadoon. That is another story.
[copy of a log book entry by F/O Cossens]
F/O Cossens Log Book entry at the end of operational tour
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Chapter 4
Grounded
[underlined] RAF Brackla [/underlined]
After a long food less overnight train journey from Peterborough, we eventually arrived at Nairn station late morning. During the journey to Scotland, I teamed up with a F/sgt F/Engineer, Jim Simpson from Walsall who was in the same situation as myself, redundant aircrew both feeling fairly low. Awaiting the crew bus, we became aware of how bitterly cold it was with snow on the hills and a cold east wind blowing in from the Moray Firth.
Eventually the crew bus arrived to transport us to our new home, a dispersed unused airfield with a few wooden buildings as the domestic/administrative site, our Nisson hutted billets a mile away from the main camp, situated on a hillock. With the usual rigmarole of signing in, we eventually made it to the Sergeant’s mess for a late lunch which we ate ravenously. Back to our billet we scoured around to find wood and coke to feed the pot bellied stove, the only means of warming our “tin hut”.
The following morning after breakfast, about fifty aircrew of various ranks, including officers, paraded outside the headquarters hut, many dressed in what one would describe as non regulation dress. Some wearing their Irvine jackets and many with scarves much to the displeasure of the parade Warrant Officer, however! due to the bitter cold wind that was still blowing around the camp, nothing more was said on the subject. Sectioned off, we waited in one of the offices until called individually for interview and assessment.
RAF Brackla was a war time airfield built alongside an ancient distillery, according to the stories from the permanent staff, it was to be used by Wellington aircraft patrolling the North Sea. Because of the peat sodden ground the runways began to sink and distort, making the airfield unserviceable for heavy aircraft.
Called in for my interview by a seemingly disinterested Flying Officer, I addressed him with the usual courtesy, before his questioning routine began. What was my education qualifications, my civilian occupation, and my recreational activities etc;? and so it went on for some time. I had worked in the automobile industry as an apprenticed sheet metal worker so I was offered training as an airframe fitter or a driver/mechanic.
I had given a lot of thought to what sort of peace time occupation I would like to be involved in when demobilised, deciding that factory work with set routines was not for me. As a youngster I had always been keen on all sporting activities, this could be the opportunity I was looking for. I conveyed my thoughts to the interviewing officer that I would like to train as a PTI (physical training instructor) which would give me the opportunity of going on to Loughborough University. With a wry smile, he said he would make a note of my request and that was the end of my interview.
On parade the following morning, the Station Warrant Officer addressed us with the comment that “we looked like a bunch of layabouts and needed to get back to some discipline and fitness”, we were then dismissed and told to report back in an hours [sic] time dressed in “Best Blue” ready for inspection. The inspection was performed by
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the C/O, an ex operational pilot sporting the DFC and Bar, with a bit of tongue in cheek formality he handed over the parade to SWO. The officers were dismissed leaving us in the hands of a F/sgt air gunner who marched us away and continued to march us at regulation pace onto and then around the perimeter track. After about fifteen minutes, the parade began to mutter amongst themselves until one wag in the centre of the file bawled out an order “parade break step”, the whole parade then began to shuffle along to guffaws of laughter until the parade F/sgt brought us to a halt and demanded to know who gave the order and why? The offending airman a F/sgt Engineer put his hand up and said or words to the effect “If we had continued to march in step we would have disappeared into the peat and I wouldn’t like you to be responsible for the catastrophe”.
That was the end of marching at RAF Brackla, to the tour expired airmen, Brackla became known as Brigadoon.
Christmas and new year was nearly upon us although Christmas as such, did not exist in Scotland, the New Year being the prime celebration. Brackla was just a small cluster of cottages, not even a pub or shop. We had absolutely nothing to do on the camp although I took the opportunity of playing rugby for the station which relieved the boredom. At other times we could scrounge a lift into Nairn, although it was a lottery getting return transport.
Nairn was then, a sleepy seaside resort with a couple of hotels and the odd bar. Sunday was a day of rest in Scotland and Nairn was completely shut on the Sabbath. On Saturday nights, there was always the dance at the Pentecostal Church hall. My friend Jim Simpson and I always stuck together on these excursions and invariably we were offered digs for the weekend, we even attended the Pentecostal Church on the Sunday. This weekly event followed the same pattern during our stay at Brackla, friendly people the Nairn folk. Two weeks into the New Year, Jim Simpson and I were summoned to the administration office to be informed of our posting to RAF Weeton near Blackpool to undertake a motor transport course. My hope of becoming a Physical Training Instructor was finally dashed.
[underlined] RAF Weeton [/underlined]
Met up with Jim Simpson at Birmingham New Street Station after a welcome seven day’s leave, en route to Kirkham and RAF Weeton.
RAF Weeton was a sprawling complex of wooden huts with manicured verges, white painted kerbs and edging which typified a multi training establishment, a formidable place. One of it’s [sic] saving graces was the close proximity to Blackpool, sporting a frequent bus and train service to the seaside town with it’s [sic] many entertainment attractions.
We soon settled into one of the wooden huts and made acquaintance with the other inhabitants, all tour expired aircrew, two of them were air gunners with whom I had trained at the Isle of Man, one of them was a fellow named Ward from Hull. His Stirling had been shot down during a French resistance supply-drop and he was the only one to survive, being rescued by a French resistance group. He fought alongside this group, the Maquis and with the assistance of a French escape organisation, he eventually made his way back home via Spain. He proudly sported a German Eagle emblem sewed under his breast pocket flap, he claimed that he had taken it off a German soldier whom he had shot during his association with the Maquis.
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The following day, we assembled in one of the huts, our dozen aircrew plus about twenty airmen recruits (Sprogs) were briefed on the course that we were to undertake, then spent the rest of the morning doing basic drill. Although the aircrew were senior NCOs we were still expected to carry out the same tasks as the recruits during the course, this didn’t unduly worry us. The afternoon was far more interesting, firing 303 rifles on the range.
Then began a very intense and interesting two months course on all aspects of motor transport. The squad was split up into two groups, one group being involved with class work and practical mechanics during the morning and then taking driving lessons during the afternoon, the other group rotating in a similar fashion.
Our first driving lesson was in an Austin 10 saloon under the auspice’s [sic] of The British School of Motoring (BSM) three to a car taking half hour instructional driving in and around the Blackpool area during the morning or afternoon.
After three weeks of driving lessons and intensive course work we were ready to take our driving test around the narrow streets of Blackpool. In those days hand signals were the norm as there was no such modern aids as indicator lights. Jim Simpson and I were delighted that we had passed our driving and theoretical test and were ready to move on to the heavy vehicles, 75 percent of our group were also successful.
Our first introduction to lorries, Bedford’s, Fordsons, Albions and Dennis’s, [sic] took place within the camp precinct getting familiarised with “double declutching”, reversing on mirrors and in general, getting the feel of a heavy vehicle. Out on the road we enjoyed the convoy excursions into the Pennines with it’s [sic] many twisting and turning country lanes, stopping on occasions at village cafe’s [sic] to sample the home baking.
Apart from the extra guard and orderly sergeants [sic] duties, as well as our normal course work, we had ample leisure time to take in the delights of Blackpool. During the war, Blackpool was an extremely busy town, full of service personnel of all nationalities, undertaking various courses or being kitted out prior to postings overseas. Competition for the attention of the ladies of Blackpool was very fierce, however! there was plenty of other diversions such as free entrance to the many shows at the Wintergardens, the Tower and other establishments. One such show remains in my memory was, seeing Sandy Powell doing his ventriloquist act at the Tower, hilarious!
During the final three weeks of our course, we graduated on to lorry with trailer driving, then finally the long articulated “Queen Mary’s” complete with an aircraft fuselage. The achievement of driving and manipulating this lengthy vehicle, made one feel like Mr Lucas or “The King Of The Road”.
Our course ended with notification of our posting and presentation of our RAF driving documents, the equivalent to a full driving licence. This would serve us well when we returned to civilian life. Jim Simpson and I were very lucky to be given home postings to RAF Halfpenny Green, within easy reach of our homes.
On leave, my mother received a letter informing us that my cousin was missing on operations to Harberg 7/8th of March 1944. He was a M/upper gunner with 57 squadron based at East Kirkby in Lincolnshire, lost on his second tour.
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[underlined] RAF Halfpenny Green [/underlined]
RAF Halfpenny Green was a war time aerodrome situated within easy reach of Wolverhampton, Stourbridge and Bridgenorth. It was originally called RAF Bobbington alongside a village of the same name, but the name was changed because of the possibility that the name Bobbington would conflict with an army base in Wiltshire.
Quite a compact camp with a mix of wooden huts and Nisson [sic] huts with all services within easy walking distance. Halfpenny Green was the base of No 3 Air Observer Navigation School using the reliable Avro Ansons and Airspeed Oxfords.
Signing in completed, Jim and I were billeted in a Nisson [sic] hut situated adjacent to the sports ground and, occupied by four Canadian F/sergeant pilots and four F/sergeant navigator instructors. We were in good company.
The following morning we reported to the MT office to be confronted by the MT officer, a surly red faced looking Warrant Officer. When he was told that we were his new drivers and were reporting for duty, he burst out laughing and said “I wonder what this air force is coming to”. or words to that effect. He turned out to be a decent enough fellow and we became firm friends during our time on the camp.
The MT section was overloaded with drivers and my actual driving consisted of driving the ambulance and patients to either, RAF Bridgenorth or to RAF Cosford and on occasions driving the salvage truck around the camp lifting the rubbish to the incinerator. Italian POW’s carried out this task accompanied by their patriotic Neapolitan singing.
Every Thursday evening, I was detailed to transport the Station Education Officer into Dudley to supervise the local Air Training Corps. As I was an ex ATC cadet, we got on famously, I think that is why I was always his driver on these occasions
When I dropped him off, invariably he gave me a free pass to visit either the Palace cinema/Dudley Hippodrome/the dance hall or the roller skating rink. It transpired that he and his family owned these entertainment facilities and is a pity that I cannot recall his name.
On one of these excursions I took in the Dudley Hippodrome to see Vera Lynn who was top of the bill that week, a very enjoyable evening.
Due to the posting away of two of the station drivers, our friendly Transport Officer gave Jim and I the opportunity of manning the Fire Tender, each on a turn about 24 hr on and 24 hr off basis, I think he wanted to get us off his patch as my promotion to Warrant Officer had just been posted on Daily Routine Orders (DRO’s) together with my war medal awards.
This arrangement was ideal, we would have more free time and also avoid the embarrassment to either party in the Transport Section.
The fire station and crash tender building was situated by the main gate and opposite the Headquarters Office Building. Our fire officer was a F/lt Lieutenant and a dead ringer for Arthur Askey, he also played the ukulele and entertained us on many occasion when flying was scrubbed. Some character that fellow.
Each morning, we gave our Fordson fire tender a run round the perimeter track and if flying was on, we would position ourselves on the hard standing at the end of the runway until the flying ceased.
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Fordson Crash Tender
[coloured photograph of a Fordson Crash Tender in front of a Nissen hut]
[black and white full length photograph of Warrant Officer Geoff Payne in uniform]
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My navigator Jim Gould from 514 squadron was the Navigation Leader on the station and was now a F/lt Lieutenant. He arranged for me to get some unofficial flying lessons on Ansons and Oxfords during my down time. We kept in touch over the years but sadly he passed away in 2001.
VE day arrived and I managed to get home for the celebrations, although very short and sweet, everyone let their hair down and danced into the early hours of the morning around the street bonfires. The war in Europe had ended with victory for the Allies, the Japanese conflict was still a major problem. My elder brother was flying in Burma as a Mosquito navigator, would I be seconded to the Tiger Force for a second tour on the other side of the world,?
On duty, sited at the end of the runway one day, our phone rang to tell us that one of our Oxfords had crashed, and we should follow the staff car to the site. When we arrived, it seemed as though the aircraft had dived into the ground, the cockpit area completely crumpled up. We had managed to get into the field with some difficulty and began to play foam onto the engines whilst the ambulance crew began to retrieve the occupants. Sadly there were no survivors and flying was scrubbed for the day.
When our shift finished, I returned to my billet to be met by a strange silence, two of my friends, a Canadian pilot and one of the navigation instructors had died in that crash plus the pupil navigator. During my time at Halfpenny Green, that was the only incident we were called upon to attend.
Arrangements were made for an open day on the camp to which I invited my girl friend and her mother. A lovely summers day wandering around the camp and showing off our station facilities. The highlight of that day was the appearance and aerobatic display by a Gloucester Meteor, the RAF’s first jet powered fighter. This was my first sighting of this amazing aircraft.
The following day, all camp personnel were assembled in one of the hangers to be congratulated on the station performance during the open day, then came the bad news that Halfpenny Green was to close down within the next few weeks. This news came as a big shock, Halfpenny Green was a friendly sort of station, in easy reach of familiar places and my home. Jim and I received our notice of posting quite quickly due to the cessation of the flying programme, both of us being detailed to report to RAF Croughton.
Our final task on the station was to dig a large hole on Bobbington Common and to destroy all the camp pyrotechnics. We literally left Halfpenny Green with a bang.
RAF Halfpenny Green is now Wolverhampton Airport and also home to the RAF Fire Services Museum.
[underlined] RAF Croughton [/underlined]
RAF Croughton is a 1938 airfield, sited on a hillock with grass runways and a concrete perimeter track situated about seven miles southwest of Brackley in Northamptonshire and within easy reach of Banbury, Oxfordshire.
The domestic site, a mix of wooden and Nisson [sic] huts, was a good mile away from the airfield. fortunately [sic] Jim and I managed to get our accommodation in a farm house alongside the airfield which was inhabited by two pilots and two glider pilot instructors, all NCOs. The rooms of the farmhouse were comfortable and had been decorated throughout by a modern day Picasso, very cosy.
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After the usual signing in. we reported to the MT Section and told that we were detailed to report to the airfield tractor section the following day for glider towing. RAF Croughton at that time was Number 1 Glider Training School, training pilots on Hotspur gliders. Our job was to tow the gliders, using small nippy American tractors, on to the runway and to retrieve them upon landing. The Miles Martinet was used as the towing aircraft, a noisy little beast.
With the dropping of the Atomic Bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, VJ day came and went with no celebration on my part as I was detailed for a twenty four hour duty as Orderly Officer. The war was over to great relief and there was no danger of doing a second tour which left me pondering as to how long before demobilisation. Time began to drag as our only serious occupation was tractor driving when the weather was suitable for flying. During my down time there was ample opportunity of getting plenty of unofficial flying lessons in gliders and the Miles Martinet.
[black and white photograph of a group of men carrying a Hotspur glider]
Troop Carrying Hotspur Glider
Christmas and the New Year over, there were rumours that the Gliding School was to be relocated, possibly to RAF Upper Heyford in Oxfordshire. This left me wondering if I would be relocated or posted to some other RAF station. Two weeks later all flying ceased and I was to be posted to RAF South Cerney with immediate effect, my friend Jim was to be posted to RAF Coningsby. With the sale of our jointly owned 600 cc Panther motorbike, there ended a very close friendship.
[underlined] South Cerney [/underlined]
South Cerney is situated on the old roman road A419 three miles east of Cirencester, a pre war brick built aerodrome with a grass airfield and home to No 3 Advanced Pilots Course. Nicely laid out, compact, with all the services within easy walking distance.
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Quite a friendly greeting when I reported for duty at the MT section and was given my
main task of driving the Albion ambulance, based at the station sick quarters.
The camp also housed a German POW compound, the prisoners being employed in work activities around the area or within the station on general duties. I became friendly with one such POW, Ollois Kissel who worked in the station sick quarters. He was with a flak battery in Belgium before he was captured and was a chemist in his home town of Koblenz, we corresponded for many years but sadly he died 1998
On occasions, I was offered the task of delivering the camps dirty linen to the Tyseley laundry in Birmingham, entailing an overnight stay at my home, allowing me time to visit my girl friend. I even managed to get to my cousins wedding on one of these trips, much to the surprise of my cousin and family.
During my time at South Cerney most of my down time was spent either scrounging flights in Tiger Moths or Harvards or getting in some athletics training. At weekends I played football for the station team, the station sports officer being the centre half. After one of the games he asked me if I would like to drive him to RAF Tern Hill as he and another officer were representing the station at the Training Command athletics meeting.
During general conversation on the way up to Tern Hill in Shropshire, I said that I had been involved in athletics with Bromsgrove Athletic Club and I would have been interested in competing for our station. When we arrived at Tern Hill, I was introduced to the other members of the South Cerney team who managed to provide me with a pair of spikes and told that I would be competing in the long jump, high jump and the 120yds hurdles. Pleased to say that I was third in the long jump, and second in the high hurdles, our station coming second in the competition. This achievement gave me the opportunity of competing for Training Command at the RAF Inter Command Athletic Meeting held at White City London gaining fourth in the long jump and a fourth in the high hurdles. My only claim to fame at that meeting was competing in the final against the British Champion and Olympic Hurdler F/Lt Lord Burghley.
[black and white images]
Training Command Championship Medals 1946
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[coloured photograph]
Albion Ambulance
Summer 1946 came and went, the station started to run down and in October rumours began to circulate that No3 Advanced Flying Course was being transferred to RAF Little Rissington
. These rumours became fact when my name appeared on DRO's and I was posted to RAF Little Rissington with immediate effect. Two days later at RAF Little Rissington my name appeared on DRO's stating that, after seven days leave I was to report to RAF Homchurch, Essex in preparation for a posting to a Micro Film Unit in Germany.
Deutschland
RAF Homchurch was one of the original RAF airfields situated some fifteen miles south east of the centre of London. The fighter aircraft based there during the war played a prominent role in the defence of our country during the Battle of Britain.
Our short time on the camp was taken up by lectures governing the rules of occupation upon arrival in Germany. This covered such topics as, non fraternisation with the German population, the Black Market, and medical issues regarding the high prevalence of venereal diseases.
After a medical examination plus inoculations for Typhoid and boosters, we were issued with a . 303 Lee Enfield rifle and five rounds of ammunition. The rest of our time at Homchurch was spent just hanging about waiting for our travel documents.
This waiting time gave us the opportunity of wandering around, sightseeing in London, getting cheap meals in the crypt of St Martins in the Fields or Lyons Cornerhouse in Piccadilly. Sadly this rest period came to an end, our group of airmen were handed travel documents for the following day to train up to Hull for the overnight sea crossing to Cuxhaven, en route to RAF Buckeberg.
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Arriving at Hull station, we boarded the waiting transport for the journey to the docks, ahead of us there was this massive all welded American Liberty ship. Proceeding up the gang plank, a typical army RSM confronte.d me, addressing me with the correct term of Mr, assigned me in charge of the Deck Guard, no ifs or buts. However, this arrangement suited me as I was allocated a cabin, shared with two anny sergeants and a naval PO, a far better situation than being squashed in between decks and packed like a tin of sardines. A walk around the deck on occasions, checking on the deck guards was all the official requirements.
The night crossing was horrendous, these Liberty ships didn't cut through the seas, they just rode the heavy swell, sinking and rising, very uncomfortable. There was, the uneasy feeling that somewhere in that expanse of water there may be a rogue mine drifting about in the North Sea. Accompanied by sleet and snow, my first sea voyage, literally turned out to be a nightmare. My cabin companions and I were issued with red arm bands to signify that we had some official status when supervising the decks. Apart from the odd sandwich which the cooks specially made up for us , the food on board was quite unpalatable although a regular supply of coffee kept us warm on our regular strolls around the decks..
Dawn was breaking as we nosed our way into Cuxhaven, cracking the ice that had formed in the harbour overnight. We had arrived in Deutschland feeling miserable and cold, the Air Force party given priority to disembark to the RAF transport waiting on the quayside. A short drive through the cobbled streets of the port, we arrived at what was once a German army barracks for the overnight stay prior to our journey to Buckeburg, a spa town and holiday resort 25 miles east of Hanover. At that time RAF Buckeburg was the Headquarters of the RAF in Germany, and used mainly as a transit camp, although later, it became strategically important during the Berlin Airlift
The following morning, after a well earned rest, we boarded our RAF transport for a seven hour journey. arriving at our destination late afternoon. Most of the town, including hotels and homes had been taken over by the RAF, my group of four senior NCOs being deposited in a Pension a type of boarding house. After settling in I took a walk through the town and was taken with, children and adults begging for chocolate and cigarettes, little realising then, that these commodities were a valuable means of barter due to the German Mark being worthless.
The Messing facilities and Station Headquarters were situated in a large hotel near the town centre. After breakfast I reported to the Orderly Room to discover that I was posted to Frankfurt on Maine that same night to join a Micro Film Unit based at the IG Farben Industrie at Hoechst. My pay and British currency was changed into British Forces paper money, the travel documents made out for me take transport into Hanover and connect with the Bremerhaven to Stuttgart overnight train, little knowing that this train was run by the American Forces.
All my kit had to be packed again in a hurry, humped to the mess for an evening meal and given a travel pack of sandwiches just in time to get my transport to Hanover Bahnhof (station).The train arrived on time full of American service men newly arrived from the States and like myself, were heading for the American Zone.
This overnight journey was the most uncomfortable trip that one can imagine, the carriage that I was allocated had wooden bench seating and was full of coloured American troops, although that situation didn't worry me, I was concerned that the white troops were in the plush seated accommodation. This sort of discrimination
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stayed with me for many years. There were many interruptions to the journey and, time seemed to drag until, eventually we arrived in Frankfurt 10-00hrs, two hours late. Having contacted the American RTO regarding transport to my allotted base, I hung around for a couple of hours before a RAF Sergeant arrived in a 15cwt F ordson. Introductions completed, he was the Sergeant in charge of the Micro Film section and responsible for all the equipment plus a complement of four airmen operators.
I was to take over responsibility of a three ton Fordson van which housed a mobile micro film laboratory and the 15cwt truck.
During the drive to our base I was amazed at the utter destruction of the city of Frankfurt and it's environs, caused by the many concentrated raids by Bomber Command and the US Eighth Air Force. Strange to relate, I felt little sympathy for this destruction or for the German people at that time.
[black and white photograph]
Frankfurt on Main 1944
Our final destination was a small company housing estate which had been occupied by workers from the nearby I G F arben Industrie factory. These workers had now been decanted, the estate now occupied by units of the British Army, RAF and British civilians working for the British Control Commission under the umbrella of The British Army of the Rhine (BAOR).Two of these houses were allocated to the Micro Film Group .. A Board of Trade official was part of our unit who's function was to visit various factory organizations and to confiscate machine tool drawings and important documents as allowed under the War Reparations Agreement. Our unit would then photograph any important documents or drawings onto micro film.
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Another group on the site was a unit of the RAF Investigation Branch, who's sole purpose was to investigate and locate RAF aircrew, declared missing on operations .. This meant exhuming bodies from unmarked graves to ascertain if they had been murdered or otherwise. Many cases of murder had been discovered; the perpetrators being brought to justice.
The Americans had taken over office accommodation blocks within the massive factory complex of the IG Farben factory at Hoechst for their administrative headquarters. The British Control Commission for the area also had use of these office buildings. This arrangement was ideal during our off duty time, we were able to use the iced up tennis courts for skating and attend the many shows and musical concerts that were on offer. We also had the use of the American PX with it's restaurant, serving up real hamburgers and coffee. There was not much restriction on the amount of cigarettes and chocolates that we could purchase, the shop itself was like a miniature Harrods, selling a vast selection of quality goods. The Americans didn't want for much.
[black and white photograph]
Frozen up at Hoechst
There had been rumours circulating around the RAF bases in the UK that, redundant aircrew were going to be demoted At that time. I didn't give much thought to this situation, thinking this would not apply to me as my demobilisation was due
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sometime early 194 7. How wrong could I be when I received notification from Bucke burg that, I was to be demoted two ranks to Sergeant, with immediate effect. Christmas 1946 just two weeks away, what a nice Christmas present.! On the same notification was an order to proceed to Triberg in the Black Forest on completion of our task at Hoechst.
Christmas day, along with other senior NCOs we had the pleasure of serving up the Christmas dinner to the OR's (other ranks) followed by our own festive meal in the Sergeants Mess, a small hotel that had been taken over by the anny.
On Boxing day, I played my final game of f football for the base against a select Gennan side. We lost or should I say we were thrashed, losing 7--0 what a
humiliation. This was my first experience of playing against a team, playing a different style of football, this showed up how out of date British football was.
On New years day we set about clearing our house of equipment, loading up our transport with boxes of provisions and a few Jerry Cans of petrol, not knowing what the situation was like in the French Zone.
It was bitterly cold the following morning as, we filled up our radiators with water, no such luxuries as anti freeze. Now ready for the long journey to the Black Forest, our Board of Trade official had already departed in his Volkswagen having left us with all the relevant details regarding the route and our hotel accommodation.
This was my first experience of driving on the autobahn, two lanes of white concrete stretching as far as the eye could see, very quite, no civilian traffic, only military vehicles. We made excellent progress. although the temperature in the cab must have been around the zero mark, no heaters in those days, though a piece of cardboard in front of the radiator kept the ice from forming on the windscreen. At intervals, there were large advertising hoardings along the route, one of which struck me forcibly, a hangman's noose with the message "The Penalty For Rape is Death”, a sobering thought.
During our journey along the autobahn, we passed a few towns which had been visited by Bomber Command during the conflict, the twin towns of Mannheim-Ludwigshafen then on to Karlsruhe and eventually
Stuttgart all showing signs of utter destruction. There would be many an airman who had these names added in their log books.
Turning off the autobahn beyond Stuttgart we eventually entered the Black Forrest Region, along winding roads through valleys, flanked by tall snow covered coniferous trees glinting red in the sunset, what a beautiful sight. Darkness had just fallen as we drove up the main street of Triberg. Stopping to ask directions from a passer by, we eventually arrived at our hotel the Golden Kreuz to be met by a French Officer who questioned us regarding our authorisation documentation. While the unit was involved in setting up the equipment in one of the Hotel rooms, I took the opportunity of wandering around this picturesque town and familiarising myself with what was on offer. Triberg, a Ski Resort, world famous for cuckoo clock manufacture, and is also the home of the largest cuckoo clock in the world.
During the period of our stay, I was able to take in some elementary skiing lessons, having bartered for a pair ski's plus a complete pair of ice skates for a few cigarettes, our Forces money was of no use at all, being in the French Zone. A tin of corned beef was the going price for a large cuckoo clock which I "purchased" and is still hanging in my lounge after sixty three years, pity the cuckoo is croaking some what.
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[coloured photograph]
Triberg 1946
We completed our assignment in Triberg after three weeks and were ordered to return to our base at Hoechst for further instructions. After a few days at base, orders came through that I was to be demobilised, a replacement driver would arrive by car from Buckeburg with two officers. The officers were to carry out inspections at the RAF Units in the Frankfurt area then return to Buckeburg with me as their driver. Three days later, the inspections completed, we set off in the Humber Staff car, arriving early evening just in time for an evening meal.
Spent the next couple of days getting clearance and travel documents, selling off my ski's and ice skates, posting home my treasured cuckoo clock and changing my forces money into coin of the realm, I was then ready to take the reciprocal journey back to the UK and to RAF Kirkham for demob.
Date 25th of February 1947, what an anti climax, wondering where do I go from here? civilian life seemed to be a daunting prospect, after almost four years of interesting and sometimes traumatic experiences of war time RAF. During that period many friends were made, many were lost during flying operations ..
Let us hope that their sacrifice was not in vain and that we will always remember them.
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Chapter 5
As Time Goes By
During the Second World War, in order to avoid being conscripted into a military service not of your choice, the way was open to enter a choice of service if you signed up at 17½ years of age. This happened in my own particular case when I passed the Aircrew Selection Board in 1942 and was given my service number.
Searching through some of my old documents, I came across this very interesting patronising letter addressed to me from the then Secretary of State for Air, Archibald Sinclair, dated July 21, 1942, and though it would be interesting to reflect on how some of these young men fared during and after the conflict.
AIR MINISTRY
WHITEHALL SW1
MESSAGE FROM THE SECRETARY OF STATE FOR AIR
July 21, 1942
You are now an airman and I am glad to welcome you into the Royal Air Force. To have been selected
for aircrew training is a great distinction, the Royal Air Force demands a high. standard of physical fitness and alertness from its flying crews. Relatively few attain that standard and I congratulate you on passing the stringent tests. You are, of course, impatient to begin and you naturally ask, "When do I start?" Your order on the waiting list is determined
by your age, date of attestation, and so on, and you may be sure that you will not be overlooked when your turn comes. While waiting, go on with your present job, or if you are not in employment, get a job if possible one which helps on the war effort.
You will want to know why you, who are so eager, should have to wait at all. I will tell you. The Royal Air Force is a highly organised service. In the first line are trained and experienced crews whose stirring deeds and dauntless courage daily arouse the admiration of the world. Behind these men and ready to give them immediate support the newly trained crews fresh from the schools. In your turn, you and other accepted candidates stand ready to fill the schools. Unless we had a good reserve of young men like you on which to draw, time might be lost at a critical moment and the vital flow of. reinforcements would be broken. I hope this explanation will help you understand. The waiting period should not be a waste of time. There is much you can do. You are very fit now or you would not have been chosen.
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See that you keep fit. Work hard and live temperately. Learn all you can in your spare time about the things you must know if you are to be efficient later on in the air.
The more knowledge you gain now, the easier it will be when you come to do your training.
In wishing you success in the service of you choice I would add this. The honour of the Royal Air Force is in your hands. Our country's safety and the overthrow of the powers of evil depend upon you and your comrades. You will be given the best aircraft and armament that the factories of Britain and America can produce. Learn to use them well. Good luck to you.
Signed ARCHIBALD SINCLAIR
SECRETARY OF STATE FOR AIR
INTO THE STORM
RAF Bridlington ITW
[black and white photograph]
RAF Bridlington was one of the aircrew Initial Training Wings (ITW) and catered mainly for Air Gunners and Flight Engineers. In this photograph are aircrew cadets, the majority of which were barely 18 years of age, marching six abreast after just four weeks of training. Another four weeks of training.
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and then they were off to gunnery schools for the Air Gunners or to RAF St. Athan for
the potential Flight Engineers. Then further training through Operational Training Units, Heavy Conversion Units and, eventually, destined for an operational squadron within
Bomber Command.
Many books have been written about Bomber command during the Second World War by aircrew members and distinguished authors. The media also has been at the
forefront with films, newspaper articles and television programmes, some authentic,
some controversial. The role of Bomber Command has been well documented, so there is no reason for me to add any comments and I will move to the ending of hostilities with Germany and Japan.
VICTORY
The Second World War ended with victory for the allied nations. An estimate of the
deaths accredited to all the nations involved was in the region of 40 to 50 million,
including the civilian populace. Still on the subject of the RAF, and in particular the
aircrew of Bomber Command, losses were in the region of 56,500, which was, in
proportion, far greater than any of the three services, although our Merchant Service
lost more than 30,000 semen/women.
[coloured photograph]
Rheinberg War Cemetery
The above photograph of the Rheinberg Cemetery is one of many such cemeteries in Germany and other locations throughout Europe which contain the remains of RAF
Aircrew, many of whom were from the Dominions, the Commonwealth or from allied
nations. Over 2000 airmen who have no known grave are commemorated by name at
the Runneymede Memorial and could be lying in a watery grave of the North Sea or
buried in unmarked graves after being murdered by the Gestapo or by German civilians. Over 100,000 young men volunteered for aircrew in Bomber Command, over 50 per
cent of them died in flying accidents or from operating in the hostile skies of Europe and the Third Reich.
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THE AFTERMATH
The war in Europe over and a Labour Government elected to govern the country. As bomber Command had a surplus of trained men, tour expired aircrew were made redundant, a new word in my vocabulary, and were sent to re-assessment centres throughout the UK, then on to training establishments for non-aircrew trades within the Royal Air Force, i.e. motor transport/clerical duties, etc.
The war against Japan finally ended on September 2, 1945, after the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Jubilation all round, the country celebrated, then came the recriminations.
[black and white head and shoulders photograph of Air Chief Marshall Arthur “Bomber” Harris] ’Cometh the hour, cometh the man.’ Tough and uncompromising. ‘Bomber’ Harris was the C-in-C that Bomber Command desperately needed, a man who could express himself clearly and who exuded a strong sense of purpose.
A high-ranking Labour government minister, John Strachey, began a vicious campaign to belittle the strategy of area bombing as devised by Air Chief Marshall Arthur Harris. Pre-war, this politician was a sympathiser of Oswald Mosley, the Fascist leader in Britain, and then he changed his allegiance to the Communist Party. He joined the RAF in 1940 and held a ‘grace and favour position’ as public relations officer in the Directorate of Bombing Operations. At that time Harris was becoming very concerned about the possible internal security risks posed to his command and who, following a tip-off from a member of his staf [sic] and, identified this officer as a person with an unstable political background. Harris demanded that the Air Ministry remove him at once, but thanks presumably to friends in high place, this person remained in place for the rest of the war.
After the war Strachey, as a minister in the Atlee government, maliciously continued his attacks on Harris and his command, gathering support from other party members and some high-ranking clergy. As the political pressure grew, even Winston Churchill withdrew his support of the area bombing campaign, although he had backed Harris during the conflict. Sections of the British and German press took up the debate, with some pundits questioning the contribution made by Bomber Command as to the necessity of area bombing, on the outcome of the war.
[black and white headshot of John Strachey]
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Peerages and knighthoods were handed out to our war leaders and campaign medals issued to our armed services, except for the aircrew of Bomber Command and its leader Sir Arthur Harris. The aircrew of Bomber Command were not issued with a campaign medal and Harris was ignored when the peerages were handed out. Many aircrew were unfortunate to be shot down and deemed to spend the rest of the conflict as prisoners of war. Some of these airmen did not have the nominal amount of operations or the length of time on a squadron to qualify for either the Aircrew Europe Star or the France Germany Star, and all they were entitled to was the 193 Star and the war Medal that was issued to every serviceman/woman, irrespective of their duties. The reason given for this anomaly was that as POWs, they were unable to take any further part in the war effort, although they were expected to make escape attempts, thereby tying down much-needed German manpower resources.
These aircrew were incarcerated in POW camps throughout Europe and were kept in appalling conditions on starvation rations and suffering severe malnutrition. As the war in Europe was coming to an end, they had to endure The Long March across Europe with many of them dying on the way from starvation and freezing temperatures.
Some time after the war the Ex-Prisoners of War Association made a request to hold a Thanksgiving Service in Coventry Cathedral. This request was refused by the then Provost of the Cathedral, Canon Paul Oestriecher, on the grounds that the Ex-Prisoners of War Association had ex-aircrew of Bomber Command among its member. It seems to have been forgotten that public donations contributed to the re-building of Coventry Cathedral as a centre of reconciliation. Also at that time, this cleric was instrumental in organising a protest at the unveiling of the statue to Air Chief Marshall Sir Arthur Harris by the Queen Mother and he even had the temerity to post an advertisement in the RAF News touting for monetary contributions to replace the Dome of Dresden Cathedral, which had been destroyed by bombing during the conflict. There are many more instances where this so-called cleric and pacifist has castigated the efforts of the aircrew of Bomber Command in the execution of their duties, so these instances can be left for another time.
[coloured headshot photograph of Canon Paul Oestriecher]
THE LAST POINT OF IGNOMINY
These redundant NCO aircrew, now trained in ground duties, were posted off to the many Air Force stations throughout the UK and were allowed to keep their aircrew rank, even though the tasks that they had been trained for only warranted a starting rank of AC2. However, on some stations, the aircrew rank was ordered to be covered during working hours.
[page break]
[black and white photograph of airman in flying kit]
[underlined] RAF Waterbeach 1944 [/underlined]
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At the end of 1946, a directive from the Air Ministry, stating that all these redundant aircrew be demoted by two ranks, I.e. WOs to Sergeants, Flight Sergeants to Corporals, Sergeants to LACs, although the pay would remain the same as was. This was a ruse in case any of these aircrew pursued a claim for a war pension when they returned to civilian life.
Upon demobilisation I was extremely surprised and disgusted to find entered in my discharge papers that my rank was AC2 Driver (Sgt. Air Gunner) and not the rank of Warrant Officer that I had achieved during my operational service with the Royal Air Force.
However, RAF Records graciously forwarded my Warrant Certification sixty four years after my promotion to Warrant Officer.
EPILOGUE
With a lot of back-slapping and encouragement these young men from Britain and the Commonwealth donned their Air Force Blue and went off to war knowing full-well that their chances of survival were very slim. The press and the public supported the efforts of Bomber Command as, at the time, it was the only means of taking the war back to Germany. Yet, just in the matter of a few months of the ending of hostilities the recriminations began. A few left wing politicians and some blinkered clergy crept out of the woodwork and began a vitriolic campaign against Arthur Harris. This campaign eventually permeated through to his airmen who began to suffer the brunt of these biased accusations.
As the political situation in Europe developed into the ‘Cold War’ it was thought prudent to keep Germany and the German people supporting the west, hence ‘The Marshall Plan’, etc, with respective British governments distancing themselves from the controversy of the Bombing Campaign against the Third Reich, a controversy that continues today. These proud young men went to war to preserve our democracy and freedom against two of the most tyrannical regimes in the history of mankind, yet there are still these vociferous groups of politicians/clergy and the media who continue to abuse this privilege of freedom for their own political expediency and personal agenda.
On a point of interest, our previous government recently decided to recognise the war-time achievements of three groups, the veterans of the Arctic Convoys, the ‘Bevin Boys’ and the Land Army, yet we as a country have failed, or are politically reluctant, to recognise the contribution that Bomber Command made during this terrible conflict.
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115 SQUADRON FINAL REUNION, HOUSE OF LORDS 2008
[coloured photograph of veterans of 115 Squadron]
Back Row
Not Known Cyril Bridges Lord Mackie Frank Leatherdale Geoff Payne
Front Row
Jim McGillivray Not Known Not Known W Farquharson Not Known
On that note let us recall Philip Nicholson’s “Return”
[underlined] RETURN [/underlined]
We have come home, dropping gratefully through friendly skies,
And though in tired brains the engines thunder on and images of death remain in reddened eyes,
Though nostrils sniff the legacy of oil and sweat and legs must learn to cope with the solid ground,
We have come home and are at least alive, to mourn our friends, indifferent now to sight or smell or sound.
Philip Nicholson
WARNING
Beware the retrospective historians and university-trained politicians who may eventually turn history on its head, whereby Britain could become the aggressor.
G.A.P. 2010
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[coloured portrait photograph]
[underlined]Geoff Payne[/underlined]
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Title
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An Airmans Tale
By Geoff Payne
Description
An account of the resource
Geoff Payne's autobiography divided into five chapters.
Chapter 1. Under Training.
Having been assessed in Birmingham Geoff sets off to London in August 1942 for training, at Lords. Initial training was at Bridlington then gunnery school at Andreas on the Isle of Man. After a short leave he was posted to an operational training unit at Chipping Warden followed by intensive training at Edge Hill. Finally he went to Feltwell for Escape and Evasion training before joining a Heavy Conversion Unit at Wratting Common then Waterbeach.
Chapter 2. Operations RAF Witchford. After seven days leave he commenced operational flying in a Lancaster. Their first target was Augsburg and he reports being waved off by WAAFs and airmen. On the next operation the navigator had a breakdown and refused to help. He continues with details of several operations.
Chapter 3. Return to Ops RAF Waterbeach. Initially this proved to be a very relaxing posting but after his recovery he was back on operations. After 30 operations he was posted to RAF Brackla, Nairn.
Chapter 4. Grounded. He was unhappy at Brackla which was remote and cold. Next was a transfer south to RAF Weeton where he learned about motor transport and learned to drive. He was then posted to RAF Halfpenny Green, followed by RAF Croughton and South Cerney. He then went to Hornchurch before being sent to Germany where he joined a micro film unit at Frankfurt. On completion of photographing relevant factory installations his unit headed south to Triberg in Bavaria.
Chapter 5. As Time Goes By. He reflects on his letter from the Secretary of State from Air, Bomber Command losses and life after the war. he discusses Labour minister John Strachey, a pre-war fascist then Communist Party , who belittled the work of Bomber Harris. and the refusal to allow a thanksgiving service to honour the ex-Prisoner of War Association at Coventry Cathedral.
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Geoff Payne
Date
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2010
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56 page memoir
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eng
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Text
Text. Memoir
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BPayneGPayneGv1
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Air Force. Training Command
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Birmingham
England--London
England--York
England--Halifax
England--Loughborough
England--Flamborough Head
England--Manchester
England--Blackpool
England--Fleetwood
Great Britain Miscellaneous Island Dependencies--Douglas (Isle of Man)
England--Banbury (Oxfordshire)
England--London
England--Bognor Regis
France--Lille
England--Cambridge
England--Coventry
England--Ely
Germany--Augsburg
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Stuttgart
France--Rouen
France--Vaires-sur-Marne
France--Normandy
France--Creil
France--Nucourt
France--Caen
France--L'Isle-Adam
France--Gironde Estuary
England--Falmouth
France--Somme
Germany--Rüsselsheim
Germany--Kiel
Sweden--Stockholm
Germany--Bremen
France--Le Havre
France--Calais
Germany--Neuss
Netherlands--Walcheren
Belgium--Antwerp
Germany--Emmerich
Germany--Duisburg
Scotland--Nairn
England--Peterborough
England--Walsall
England--Hull
England--Wolverhampton
England--Dudley
England--Brackley
England--Cirencester
Germany--Cuxhaven
Germany--Bückeburg
Germany--Bremerhaven
Germany--Black Forest
Germany--Triberg
Germany--Rheinberg
Germany--Hannover
Poland--Szczecin
France--Châlons-en-Champagne
France--Pas-de-Calais
Poland
France
Germany
Belgium
Netherlands
Sweden
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Gloucestershire
England--Lancashire
England--Leicestershire
England--Northamptonshire
England--Oxfordshire
England--Staffordshire
England--Suffolk
England--Sussex
England--Worcestershire
England--Yorkshire
England--Warwickshire
England--Newmarket (Suffolk)
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David Bloomfield
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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.
115 Squadron
12 OTU
1651 HCU
1678 HCU
514 Squadron
75 Squadron
90 Squadron
air gunner
Air Gunnery School
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
bale out
bomb aimer
bombing
Cheshire, Geoffrey Leonard (1917-1992)
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
crewing up
escaping
evading
flight engineer
ground personnel
Harris, Arthur Travers (1892-1984)
Harvard
Heavy Conversion Unit
Initial Training Wing
Ju 88
lack of moral fibre
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 2
Lancaster Mk 3
Martinet
Me 109
Me 110
Me 410
Meteor
Mosquito
navigator
Navy, Army and Air Force Institute
Nissen hut
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
Pathfinders
pilot
prisoner of war
RAF Andreas
RAF Brackla
RAF Bridgnorth
RAF Bridlington
RAF Chipping Warden
RAF Coningsby
RAF Cosford
RAF Downham Market
RAF East Kirkby
RAF Feltwell
RAF Foulsham
RAF Halfpenny Green
RAF Hornchurch
RAF Jurby
RAF Little Rissington
RAF Mepal
RAF Newmarket
RAF South Cerney
RAF Stradishall
RAF Ternhill
RAF Waterbeach
RAF Witchford
RAF Wratting Common
searchlight
Spitfire
Stirling
target indicator
the long march
Tiger force
training
V-1
V-weapon
Wellington
wireless operator
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/890/31595/BHumesELHumesELv1.1.pdf
f68cd73a388d83878846349fc41dd95f
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Title
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Humes, Eddie
Edward L Humes
E L Humes
Description
An account of the resource
Three items. An oral history interview with Warrant Officer Eddie Humes (b. 1922, 642170 Royal Air Force), RAF personnel document and a memoir. After serving in Balloon Command, he flew operations as a navigator with 514 Squadron
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Eddie Humes and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-08-26
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Humes, EL
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Roger Marsh of the ‘Action Desk — Sheffield’ Team on behalf of Edward L. Humes, and has been added to the site with the authors permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.
Introduction:
"Just Another Story" was written, at the suggestion of Yvonne Agnes Kennedy, who felt that my experiences, whilst serving with the R.A.F. would make interesting reading to those who knew me. My thanks go to Clive Hill, the nephew of my flight engineer, who spent many hours researching the loss of Lancaster II LL639 and who kindly gave permission to use the photographs and sketch maps included in my story.
E.L. Humes.
Chapter 1: Early Days
Early in May 1939 I was struggling to decide whether to embark on a career in the R.A.F. or to set out on training for the teaching profession. My parents were not happy with the first and many and sometimes heated were the discussions we had over the subject. Finally they agreed to my wishes and I visited a recruiting office to discuss the matter with officials of the Force.
It appeared that I was not sufficiently qualified for duties as a member of Air Crew, but was advised to enlist and try again when I was a member of the Service. In hindsight I am not sure that this was good advice, nevertheless, I enrolled as a flight mechanic. This might just satisfy my desire to be working with aircraft.
After completing my recruit training I was ready to begin my course, but I was to be disappointed. The declaration of War was imminent and all sorts of changes were being made in the R.A.F., along with many others. I was posted not to an airfield for training in my chosen trade, but to an airfield without any planes.
Protest as I may, I was informed that, "You are in the Air Force now," a phrase I was to hear many times over the next seven years. Nothing for it but to get on with it and become an efficient balloon operator. The training was not too hard, either physically or mentally, and I enjoyed the course but the worst was yet to come.
War was declared. The good life came to an end and I found myself posted to the Essex County Cricket Ground to join a small group to operate a barrage balloon.
What a disappointment! Ten of us housed in a Tennis Pavilion with only minimum facilities, how was I to know that this was going to stand me in very good stead in the years ahead?
Occasionally, I got a break for I was selected to represent my squadron at football, and it was after a match that I met an officer who again whetted my appetite for aircrew. There was a way. I must apply to re-muster. There was no hesitation on my part and I was granted an interview to attain my suitability for the new venture. It was now obvious to those in command that I was far from happy with my present role. To my horror I was moved to serve on a drifter in the estuary of the River Thames. Six airmen and six ex fishermen living in the most deplorable conditions I had yet encountered. We were anchored in position and at the mercy of the changing tides. Besides this
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we were often attacked by marauding fighters of the Luftwaffe, that often got to us before we could raise the balloon to its operational height. Wanting the chance to retaliate, I dared to ask when I might receive my posting to air crew training. Surprise, surprise, I was sent to Cardington to take a course on DRIVING. One good thing was that it was Heaven after the rigours of the previous months. The course was so very interesting that for a while I forgot aircrew training. Another plus was that I was now with people of my own age group, more or less. All good things come to an end. At the end of the course I was posted to a small hut in the East End of London- Blitz and all. This was to be my home until I got my wish.
Stories of the Blitz are legion, so I will not bore you with mine. SUCCESS AT LAST!
Great news! Report to St. John's Wood, London to commence Air Crew Training.
I could not get there quickly enough. Soon I was having tests for suitability in many fields. The majority of my colleagues were of my own age group once again, and although I was classed a raw recruit, I did not mind one little bit. "Square Bashing" was no problem to me as I had done it all before. Discipline was not hard for me as I had already had almost two years of life in the R.A.F. medical checks, attitude tests and many other tests were carried out and finally, I was on my way to St. Andrew's in Scotland for Initial Training.
Life was so exciting! Studying the mysteries of basic navigation, Morse Code, meteorology and lots of other subjects in the hallowed cloisters of St. Andrew's and in my leisure time, becoming familiar with my fellow trainees made the time pass very, very quickly. Even the weather was glorious!
The time came to show how well I had studied. Exam followed exam. Would it never end? At last came the news I had waited for. I was over the first hurdle. Where to now? Across the River Tay was a small airfield which had been taken over by the R.A.F. This was my next destination. The accommodation was superb, but what was more exciting was that there were aircraft. Real aeroplanes. Only Tiger Moths, but for the coming weeks, I would be having lessons on how to fly. The weather was not always kind at Scone, but I was eventually allowed to fly solo. Such a Wonderful experience, but sadly, I now had to move on to the next part of my course. I had a couple of weeks leave, which enabled me to tell my parents and others just how much I was enjoying myself.
Heaton Park, Manchester was to be my next place of rest. Rumour had it that the stay here would be for a couple of weeks, and then there would be an overseas posting to further training. This was not to be. The Air Ministry had decreed that as there was a glut of people wishing to train as Pilots, there must be some change to provide crew for the other positions in Bomber aircraft.
Lowly airmen that we were, there was no way that we could work out how the selection was made. A group of pilots who had already flown against the Luftwaffe, were reclassified as navigators and bomb aimers under training. Needless to say, this was not at all satisfactory, and the last we saw of them was their leaving camp for the Belgian Embassy!!!
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What of our small group? Nineteen were to train as navigators, and one as a pilot. Within two weeks the u/t pilot was on his way somewhere overseas. The rest of us spent our days doing very little other than attending morning parade and enjoying the rest of the day, doing whatever we thought best. After twelve weeks, this routine became extremely boring.
Manchester was no longer an attraction as the weather was wet and cold, not to mention the fact that our Nissen hut was very damp and very cold, and we should really be abroad to continue our training.
As the senior airman, I was delegated to meet the station adjutant to ascertain when we would be posted. He was as surprised as I was. Officially we were not on the station! "Go home for two weeks (or more) and you will be advised of your next posting." During the third week I was told to report at Bridgenorth in Shropshire to begin the next phase of navigational training.
On arrival, I found that once again I was on a unit without aircraft. Never mind, my colleagues from Heaton Park were also there. I was not going overseas.
Discipline and hard study were now the order of the day. Advanced studies in the art of navigation and all subjects connected therewith. Little time to spare. Even Christmas was a mere day from studies. Examination time again. Results were published and I heaved a sigh of relief, when I found that I was considered suitable to continue with the course. As the next stage was to put all that I had learned into practice, then there must be aircraft at the next stopping place.
Flying at Last
Advanced Navigation School, Dumfries. This was to be the nearest I was to get to a posting overseas. Yes, there were aircraft on the station. Several Anson and one Botha aircraft were used as flying classrooms. The time had come to put into practice all that I had been taught. Basic ground training continued but now we had to use our knowledge to follow a route and return to Base, quite often with a pilot whose knowledge of English was sketchy, and who was apt to turn off course to see some beauty spot he had heard of in his schooldays in Poland or France, or some other European country. Two trainee navigators were allocated to each trip, one to plot the outward journey and the other to plot the course for Base. Although mistakes were made, it gave each a great sense of achievement to complete the trip without having recourse to the pilot, asking for a positional check to obtain a new starting point.
Aerial Photography was very difficult for me. I was small and to me the camera was HUGE. To hold it pointing out of a window was almost a physical impossibility, especially when the pilot banked to look at the ground below. I often thought of what might happen to me back in Dumfries if I should ever loose the camera out of the window at three or four thousand feet. Despite the hazards I got results which satisfied the instructor, and was ready to commence night flying. What is more, I had struck up a good understanding with my fellow pupil, which I hoped would stand us both in good stead during the coming weeks of night work.
This was not to be. By now I should have known the ways of the R.A.F. better. A new intake of "trainees" arrived on the station. They had completed their course abroad and were sporting the coveted Brevets. The partly trained rookies were paired off with newly qualified navigators for night
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flying. The new boys had never flown over a completely darkened country side and many were the arguments in and out of the aircraft. It was no joke to take over navigation from a person who had got himself hopelessly lost. By this time, we "home trained" navigators were proving pretty hot stuff at the task! Or so we thought. Training seemed to take an eternity and I was relieved when final exams took place. How would I do this time?
I passed but was not present at the presentation of our Brevets - I had been injured in an inter flight football match and was to spend the next three weeks in the station Sick Bay. Still I was now a navigator and proud to wear the insignia and the three stripes which I received.
642170 Sgt. Humes E.L. (Navigator)
Celebrations went on for many hours, both at Dumfries and in Carlisle, which was not too far away. Home again to enjoy what I thought was a well-earned leave. Stay there until you receive your next posting. I hoped that the Heaton Park episode would not be repeated.
It wasn't. After three weeks I was to report to O.T.U. Chipping Warden where I would join a group of newly qualified pilots, bomb aimers, wireless ops. and gunners to form an aircrew.
One Step Nearer to Operational Flying
Chipping Warden, was an R.A.F. operational flying training unit. The aircraft used were Wellingtons and the training staff were almost 100% ex-operational aircrew. The atmosphere was so exhilarating!
For a week or so, we had lectures etc., and we mingled with the trainees in other flying categories. There were pilots, navigators, bomb-aimers, wireless- operators and air-Gunners from almost every country in the British Empire. The time arrived when I was approached by an Australian Pilot and asked if I would like to join him in forming an aircrew. I had noticed Noel at a discussion group a few days earlier, and had been impressed by his attitude, of course I would join him.
Our next task was to find a Bomb-Aimer suitable to us both. Jack Moulsdale (RAAF) had started his flying training in Australia at the same time as Noel, but had not qualified as a pilot. Undaunted, he continued his training and became a bomb - aimer. It seemed to me that it would be a wise decision to have someone else who had experience of flying an aircraft in our crew. Now to find a W./Op.- how the title drops from the tongue - now I was aircrew. It was left to yours truly to make the choice; even up the score; find a Brit. All agreed that the well built Scot would fit the bill. Jock Hughes became the fourth member of our crew. In order to complete our Wellington crew, we needed an Air-Gunner. The four of us looked around carefully and decided that the tall, quiet Australian was the best bet. He agreed to join us.
Now we were a crew. From now onwards we had to work hard to become a unit, not just airmen wearing brevets, but a group who must learn to trust and depend on one another. Various ground exercises were carried out until we each knew what was expected, should we ever become involved in any problem, major or minor.
Flying training began in earnest. Cross country flights in which I had to prove myself as an able navigator. Practice bombing and infra-red photography, where Jack had to show his prowess at hitting the target. Jock had to impress us with his ability to send and receive radio messages and
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to obtain navigational data, which would assist in locating the position of the aircraft. During these flights, Reg would operate his rear turret and become used to life in a small rear-turret. There were, of course, times when we "flew for real". Fighter simulation and long night flights of four hours or more to prepare for the tasks ahead.
On one occasion we were instructed to join eight other aircraft in a six hour night cross country exercise, which would involve every aspect of what we would be likely to meet on an operational flight, without the "flak". Things became complicated when a blanket of cloud covered the whole of the British Isles. Radio silence was essential and navigation was carried out using the courses worked out at the morning briefing. I cannot say that I enjoyed the first couple of hours! Suddenly I had the opportunity to practice the astro navigation I had enjoyed so much. One shot only. Could I rely on it? I had no option. A slight alteration of course was needed. We continued on our way, all praying that my fix had been correct. Infra-red photographs were taken by Jack on pre- flight time schedule. Eventually we crossed our fingers, by my reckoning we were within a few miles of Base. Imagine our relief when we received a message giving a course to fly to complete the trip. We were only a few minutes away.
On landing, we discovered that six of the eight aircraft which had left with us, had landed in various parts of the country, one had crash landed in Ireland. As far as my crew were concerned they had found a useful navigator.
Chapter 2: 1678 Conversion Unit
Two weeks leave and then report to Little Snoring. What a peculiar name. What a wonderful surprise. Sitting on the aerodrome were four engined aircraft, not the usual Lancaster but a type with Radial engines. This was to be our operational aircraft. All we had to do now was to show that we were capable of flying as a crew.
First we needed extra hands. Clive Banfield became the flight engineer and Clem Hem was our mid- upper gunner. Clive was English and Clem Australian. Four Australians and three Englishmen. The youngest was twenty one, and the eldest, thirty six (this was not quite the case as I discovered many, many years later, that Clive had falsified his age in order to leave a reserved occupation to fly.)
Very quickly we gelled into a crew again. "Thack" was the first to experience the thrill of flying in the Lanc II. He sang its praises and we were not disappointed when we had our first flight. Once again we had to carry out the drills of cross- country flying, Fighter affiliation, night- flying and the like but there was an additional item- Low flying! Here was a new slant on navigation. Map reading was not easy at the speed we flew in the new aircraft. Gradually everything slotted into place. We soon understood why Clive had been added to the team as the multiplicity of controls was more than one pair of hands could cope with. This quiet, confident man was just what we needed.
Our training schedule was moving along nicely, but halted when early mist and fog made flying impossible. The Nissen huts in which we were billeted were cold and damp, and so miserable to spend the days in. I was reminded of the old days in Balloon Command. The ground courses had
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been completed and we longed to be told of our posting to an operational unit, but we now had to train in using a new navigational device- Gee H. This was a new method of using radar to reach the target and to release the bomb load when visual signals coincided on a screen on the nav. table. This was not a very thrilling exercise for the other crewmembers, and we were all very pleased when I became proficient and the monotonous training flights were completed.
Now came the news we had waited so long to hear. We were to join 115 Squadron for Operational duty! Whilst we were on leave we received orders to return to Foulsham, not to join 115 but to become the nucleus of a newly formed Squadron-514. Our base was to be at Waterbeach in Cambridgeshire. We were allocated an aircraft and transferred all our personal equipment in it to our new home. Some crews had to carry out a raid on Germany on their way to Waterbeach.
Luckily no aircraft were lost.
I cannot describe my feelings on stepping out into the atmosphere of the new unit. Noise and bustle everywhere. The station had been completed shortly before war was declared. Our quarters were to be in red brick barracks and there was hardly a Nissen Hut in sight. Hot and cold water - such luxury!
Again "Thack" was to be the first to fly an operational mission. He was second pilot to a more experienced man before being allowed to captain his own crew on bombing missions. All flying was now in earnest. More Gee-H. Dinghy drills, escape drills, low level flying and all the exercises we had carried out so many times before. It was somewhat nerve racking, waiting to hear the word that we were to be on Ops at last.
The order of battle showed that we were to fly "for real" on 25th November 1943. 'Power and Majesty'
Posing for company photographs provides the rare opportunity for an Armstrong Whitworth test pilot to put on 60° of bank and show what a Lanc. II can do, Delivered to No. 408 (Goose) Squadron RCAF at Linton - on - Ouse, this machine (DS 778) was, like so many, destined for an early demise, failing to return from Kassel on 22/23 October 1943, barely two months from the day this picture was taken.
Photo: Hawker Siddeley / AWA. Ref: 'The Lancaster at War 2, Garbett & Goulding. Pub- Ian Allan Life on Squadron.
Little changed; now we were an aircrew and believed that we were equal to any flying task allotted to us. Air tests had to be carried out and also the various drills which would keep us up to operational standard. Each morning, we looked at Flying Orders hoping that we would be listed for "ops." registering varying emotions. The more often we carried out a raid over enemy territory, the quicker we could complete our tour. None of us had any thought that we would not complete our thirty operations.
There was a lot of banter and, more often than not, it would include arguments between the many members of the Commonwealth who made up the squadron. Who provided the best crews? Why was it so cold and wet in England? Football matches, cross country runs and other sporting events, which pitted Aussie against Pommie, Scot against Welshman, and West Indian against
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New Zealander. Of course not all free time was spent on camp for the city of Cambridge was not very far away and transport was frequent. The city was a place of recreation for other Forces, both air and ground. Many were the disputes between members of the American aircrews as to who did the best job and these arguments did not always end peacefully. Fortunately I was a "pacifist," so kept well out of the way when the discussions became heated.
I was so pleased to be selected for the Squadron Football X1. Each Saturday and quite often on weekdays we played matches against local teams, Cambridge University included. I cannot remember having to withdraw because of operational duties.
Numerous stories written about life in Bomber Command tell of boisterous nights in the Officers’ or Sergeants’ Mess but I have no recollection of such events in the Mess at 514.
Ground crews and operational personnel built up a great rapport. Each aircraft was meticulously cared for and on many occasions, ground crews waited for the return of "their" aircraft. Should an aircraft fail to return, there was great distress but soon those responsible for maintenance would transfer their allegiance to the replacement aircrew.
Christmas Day was an occasion when senior ranks showed their appreciation for the work done by ground staff by serving the midday meal. The Australian members had saved a good portion of their parcels from home to pass on as thanks to our own ground crew. Fruitcake, chocolate bars, tinned fruit and all manner of goods which were hard, almost impossible to obtain in England, were eagerly accepted.
Life returned to normal the following day. Christmas 1943 was very cold indeed and all personnel not engaged in other duties were ordered to assist in removing snow from the runways. Surely ops. would not take place that night. After all the hard work, the "Stand Down " was given. Normal flying was resumed on 26th December.
Throughout December 1943, January, February and March 1944, the crew continued operational flying. March 30th was the most terrifying night when the city of Nuremberg was the target.
Something was drastically wrong as aircraft were shot out of the sky. Over 100 being the victims of anti- aircraft fire and the relentless attacks by enemy fighters. More allied planes were lost on the way back to bases in England.
Thackray's crew survived.
Triumphs and Disaster
Our first operational flight as a crew was to be to Biarritz. In company with ten aircraft from other squadrons in 3 Group, we were to drop mines in the harbour there.
Whilst Thack and the rest of the crew carried out flight tests, I worked on the route we were to follow, and how I worked. Nothing could be left to chance! The day passed so very quickly and soon we were sitting down to the pre-op meal. Now we were operational. Parachutes and Mae Wests, fitted we boarded the aircraft. We taxied to the runway and at last received the green. In a few minutes we were airborne. Soon we had reached the English coast and were heading south over France.
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There was no sign of the other planes which were supposed to accompany us, but we flew on and on. As yet no enemy aircraft was sighted nor were we troubled by flak. Surely things couldn't be this easy. Biarritz! On time and on target. Where were the others? We circled for a few minutes and as there was still no sign of other planes, we decided to release our mines and turn on course for home. The return flight was no more exciting than the outward journey until we crossed the English coast, where we were immediately picked up by searchlights and directed to the West where we finally landed at Exeter, many miles from Waterbeach! Two things arose from the resultant enquiry. First, we should have received an "operation cancelled" signal before crossing the coast on the outward leg, and secondly we had been mistaken by the Observer Corps for a Wellington on a training flight that had got lost and broadcast a " May Day" signal. The searchlights had carried out the rescue procedure with us instead of them. We finished our first op. accompanied by an armed guard and of course had a tongue lashing from our various section heads. Apologies were forthcoming when the truth of the story finally came out.
Berlin was to be our next port of call. My nerves jangled for the whole of the day and I checked and re- checked every part of my pre flight plan. I settled as soon as we were airborne. This is the job I had been trained for during so many long months. What is more, I was responsible for the lives of six others, or so I told myself. Very few words were spoken during the flight. We were all on a knife-edge. Bomb aimer to Skipper, " Target directly ahead." Relief; little of note had occurred on the outward leg and obviously my route planning had been O.K. I did not wish to look at the burning city, I was quite happy to listen to the observations of the crew. We turned on the course for home and Thack let out a horrendous cry! An aircraft was turning immediately ahead. Surely we were not going to end the trip by crashing into a friendly aircraft. In seconds the danger was over but I needed to work out a slight adjustment to our course. From my position I could see nothing but listened to the comments of the others. I was scared, the aircraft shook and rolled but this was simply because we were flying in the stream of other planes. Searchlights groped around the night sky and I could see these. In next to no time Jack was able to report the sighting of the enemy coast and a short time afterwards, the marvellous news that we had crossed the English coast. Soon we were over Waterbeach, home, safe and sound. December 2nd 1943 was a date I shall never forget.
Debriefing over, we returned to barracks and turned in. Sleep would not come as I lay thinking of the events of the day. I was not alone for the other crewmembers were also reliving the events of the night of our very first operation over Germany.
Chapter 3: ABANDON AIRCRAFT!!!
The day was 11th April, the year 1944. Our target was to be a fairly easy trip to Aachen, perhaps our shortest flight over Germany. The usual preparations were made and in the early evening we set course for the target hoping to return well before midnight. All went well and we dropped the bomb load over the city and set course for home.
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Disaster struck! The port outer engine caught fire. It seemed that we had been hit by flak, as none of the air gunners had sighted enemy aircraft. Noel ordered us to prepare to abandon which meant that all secret equipment and navigational and wireless codes had to be destroyed. Gunners had to leave their turrets and all had to head for the escape hatches, except of course for Thack. For a few moments we flew on. Clive was doing his utmost to extinguish the blaze and believed that we would be able to continue. The blazing engine fell away. The end was near, as the pilot could no longer keep control.
ABANDON AIRCRAFT!! Jack answered at once. Reg reported that his turret would not operate. Jock said that he would try to help Reg, and Clem responded that he too would move to help with the rear turret. Clive was not at all pleased that we were to abandon. As for myself, I headed for the front escape hatch passing both Clive and Thack, who was still at the controls. As I reached the top of the steps, I was astounded to find the escape hatch open, but Jack's parachute pack was still in the container. There was no sign of him!
I had no time for further thought, for at that moment the nose of the plane dropped and I found myself trapped by my legs. To this day I do not know what was preventing me from leaving the stricken aircraft. What was I to do? Without any further thought, I pulled the ripcord. I felt a sharp pain in my legs but to my great relief, my ‘chute pulled me clear of the aircraft. I drifted towards the earth, but could see nothing nor could I hear a sound. I prayed to almighty God for his help and cried out for my mother. All this had happened in seconds.
I assumed that I was drifting downwards but could not be sure where I was going to land. Crash! I had landed in undergrowth but where? I did not have the slightest idea. Minutes passed, I could feel that my uniform was in tatters and that I was bleeding profusely. Strangely I felt no pain. I heard movement and immediately began crying for help, but was warned to be quiet. Obviously it was not German soldiers in the immediate vicinity. Helping hands picked me up and untied my Mae West; I had responded to training and had by instinct got rid of my parachute silk on hitting the ground. When I awoke I was lying on something very soft, but could not see what it was. My right leg gave me a lot of pain and I ran my hands over it. It seemed to be a peculiar shape.
Gradually my hearing improved and I could hear voices in what seemed to be prayer. As yet, I could not see where the sound was coming from, but realised that I was being addressed in English. A doctor had been called and he was advising me that there was nothing he could do to treat my wounds, but that he would make me comfortable until the Germans arrived. A couple of pieces of wood from the garden fence were used to make splints for the leg that had sustained a very bad fracture. My face and hands were washed clean of blood that had come from multiple scratches. After making me comfortable and allowing me to sleep for the remainder of the night the Germans were called. As soon as they arrived the atmosphere changed. What had been a quite room now became a very noisy area indeed. I was to be taken away by them, but it appeared that the family would not permit the enemy to move me from the sofa on which I was
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resting. Finally I was carried, still on the sofa, to the waiting lorry. I discovered some 50 years later that the family name was Conen and I had the pleasure of meeting the only surviving member.
A GUEST OF THE GERMAN NAVY
Somewhere around teatime, my guards deposited me at a hospital staffed by German navy personnel. I was well scrubbed and put into a nice clean bed. A meal of Black bread, cheese from a tube and the foulest tasting coffee was given to me. All the time I was eating, sailors wandered by to take a look at the English captive.
My next real visit was from a medical officer who explained that there would be a need to operate on my leg in the next few hours. He was quite friendly and was in no way what I had expected.
Maybe this was part of the softening-up process I had been warned to expect in those briefing sessions in training. Some time later I was taken to the operating theatre and knew no more until I woke up in a private room with a large picture window on the left and a pair of doors to the right of my bed. There I lay, with my leg in traction but with no sign of a plaster cast. A large iron framework kept the sheets from weighing on my legs. Looking further to my right I saw a German sailor standing guard inside the doors and beyond him, another sailor, both with fixed bayonets! I was told afterwards that these guards were there to keep Belgian people out, for there was no way I could possibly escape.
What lay ahead of me? Meals were delivered on time and once I had become used to the black bread and acorn coffee, the rest of my diet was quite pleasant. Strangely enough, I felt very little pain and I was able to see quite well. After a few days my Rosary was returned to me and it transpired that one of my guards was a Catholic. Now we had a talking point, but he was not particularly interested in teaching me German, but wished to improve his English so that he would be able to converse with English citizens when Germany defeated England! Sign language was used more often than words in the first instance, but we got along very well indeed.
At first, time passed pretty quickly. When night fell I would listen for the sound of allied aircraft passing overhead and try to work out where they might be going, by working out the time that elapsed between the inward and outward journey. Sometimes an airman would be brought in to occupy the second bed in the room, and I would become updated with the progress of the war. Sadly, there was seldom a time when any of these new aircrew members stayed longer than one day. As the weather outside improved I began to yearn for a move to somewhere among English speaking prisoners. I was aware that there were no prisoners from the allied forces in the hospital in which I was being treated.
Early in June, fighter activity began to increase quite dramatically and the air raid sirens were often sounded. Each time this happened my guards disappeared and I soon found out that part of their duties was to man part of the air defences. I cannot remember the date, but one evening, I noticed that the night sky was rapidly illuminated with brightly coloured flares. This could only mean one thing - the area was to be the target for that night ! ! !
I was right. Sirens wailed and anti-aircraft guns blasted away at the allied aircraft. Soon, bombs began to fall and I heard explosion after explosion. Surely I was not going to be a victim of action
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by the R.A.F? Soon I had my answer for my bedroom shook and glass windows broke. The noise was horrendous and because of my situation, I could take no action whatever to hide away or to reach shelter. Just as I pulled the bed sheets over my head, I felt an almighty crash and wondered what the outcome of this was going to be. Gradually the noise subsided and soon I was able to risk turning down the sheets. The window and doorframes were lying across the cage that protected my legs, and I saw searchlight beams and ack- ack bursts. THE CEILING HAD COLLAPSED! ! ! ! I was alive but terrified. What would happen to me now? One of my guards visited to check on my condition, but it was some hours before I was made aware of the extent of the damage caused by the raid. My room was reasonably sound when compared to the rest of the hospital.
A Change of Surroundings.
As the morning passed, I could hear the sound of rescue crews moving about the hospital grounds. Now and then there would be an almighty crash as a building toppled. Fires burned brightly and soot fell, making my once white bed linen look very dirty indeed. I thought for a time about the times when I had been bombed back in England and how enemy fighters had attempted to destroy the barrage-balloon sites on which I served, but I am afraid it gave me little comfort.
There I had been among friends, but now I was among enemies. How would they re-act to the night's events? I was soon to find out.
From the background of soot and smoke, there appeared the figure of one of the surgeons who had cared for me over the previous weeks. His apron was bloodstained, and in his hand he held a scalpel, likewise covered in blood! What was he going to do to me? He soon put my mind at rest and after referring to the air-raid being carried out by my friends, he told me that although I should be in traction for a further four weeks, there was nothing that could be done but to remove the pin and other items, and transfer me as quickly as possible to another hospital.
No sooner said than done! I just had to grit my teeth, hold tight and the job was done. A lorry was drawn up to the ruin and a stretcher was brought from somewhere, and I was loaded aboard for my journey, no guards this time. Off we went, sometimes dodging the potholes, but more often than not there would be an almighty jolt as we hit what I presumed was a crater. Suddenly the stretcher left the floor of the vehicle and I was deposited on to the boards. I felt more pain than I had felt since leaving the aircraft, but try as I may, I could not get the attention of the driver.
Another gritting of teeth until we reached our destination, which turned out to be a "Rest Home" for German officers.
I got little sympathy and was informed that there was not the facility to deal with my new injury, which was a re-fractured femur; the fall had undone the work that had been done. Soon, I was on my way again to another hospital, somewhere in Brussels. I was hungry, dirty and in quite some pain, but at last I reached my new home. The hospital sister was not at all pleased at the state I was in. She was unaware of what I had been through and commented that surely no soldier would set out on a mission in the dirty state that I was in. "Stand up and follow me to the bathroom," she said. Only when I had convinced her that my leg was broken did she realise the predicament I was
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in. Immediately her attitude changed. She became an angel and remained so for the rest of my stay.
Now spotlessly clean, I was placed in a bed in a barrack room along with twenty or so captured allied aircrew, and learned that I was in an annexe to a German military hospital in the centre of Brussels. They were not too happy to hear that I had been captured several weeks earlier, and thus could not give news of the allied advance through France. To be honest, I was pleased to know that our forces were on their way. My next information was that I would have twenty-four hours to talk about my predicament and then the subject would be taboo. My "Angel" returned to prepare me for an operation on my right femur.
She explained the whole process and commented on how lucky I was going to be to have a leading surgeon carrying out a recent technique, to put my bone together again (I have since learned that the procedure was known as The Kuetschner Nail Method). Off we went to the theatre, and the surgeon began his task. He was far from happy when I yelled with pain! I had felt his scalpel cut into my upper leg!! Initially he did not believe me, but quickly realised that the spinal anaesthetic had not done its work. At once he took steps to remedy the matter and my next memory was that of waking up in bed, again in traction, and being cared for by a young lady in white. Was I in heaven? No, I was back in the P.O.W. ward.
The following morning, the operating surgeon came to check on my well-being and to apologise for the slip up of the previous day. He told me that the operation had gone well and that I would be in traction for approximately twelve weeks. Where had I heard that before? Now I was able to learn about my fellow prisoners and to catch up on the progress of hostilities.
My colleagues were from all parts of the Commonwealth, U.S.A and France, and there was even a prisoner with Russian nationality. Their injuries were of many kinds. Severe burns, broken limbs and some had limbs that had been amputated. I was only a small player.
Chapter 4: ON THE MOVE AGAIN
Many and varied were the tales my fellow patients had to tell. One especially, bears repeating. After the aircraft had been hit, the radio-operator had moved to leave his position when the aircraft broke up and he was left hanging from a piece of wreckage, but he was still wearing his helmet with the inter-com plug connected. His parachute opened and pulled him from the aircraft but not before he had removed the plug. Suddenly the unit gave way and the cord from the headset caught in the lines of the `chute. He landed unable to move. He arrived at the hospital fully conscious and able to speak but it was quite a few weeks before he was able to use any of his limbs. Part of his recovery programme was to attempt using a concertina. The last time I saw him, he was still struggling.
Each new arrival brought news of the progress of Allied forces; often their stories were very much different from the propaganda given out by the German radio, and the tales told by the staff of the hospital. The weeks passed quickly, and as August approached, the sound of heavy gunfire increased. The news from Belgian workpeople was that the allies were now close to Brussels.
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Each day we waited for good news but it seemed to us that movement had come to a halt. Perhaps the forward push had ceased or the powers that be had decided to by-pass the capital. On the 6th September, we had a visit from the senior officer of the hospital staff. He was ready to leave us in the hospital if the senior British officer would sign a document stating that we had been treated well during our captivity. We were overjoyed and were 100% ready to agree! The day passed agonisingly slowly and the night was full of the noise of artillery fire. There was nowhere for us to find shelter so we hid our concern by singing the tunes of the time.
As dawn broke, the sound of gunfire decreased and the sky was red with flame. Surely we would be recaptured in an hour or two! The doors of the annexe burst open and a number of German troops appeared. To our horror they wore the uniform of the S.S. Thoughts of being recaptured were dashed as the officer in command refused to accept the document signed the previous day. The walking wounded were ushered away and the bedridden lifted into wheelchairs. I was released from my traction, given a set of crutches and told to make my way to the bus, which was waiting. I soon had the knack of using crutches for the S.S. were in no mood to hang about. When it was clear that there were no other Allied prisoners left in the hospital, the bus moved off and we turned into the main square where we saw the Palais de Justice burning fiercely. There seemed to be thousands of troops moving about and heading out of the city. Slowly, yard-by-yard, we passed among the crowds, and at last reached the road signposted "VENLO". We were on our way to Holland but much was to happen before we reached our goal.
The roads were packed with retreating German troops and fleeing Belgian citizens. Every available type of transport was being used to leave the capital, and there was barely enough space to pass that which had already broken down. Dead animals littered the roadside. Horses lay with their feet in the air, dead either from attack from the air or just sheer exhaustion. Broken down vehicles littered the highway, their owners frantically seeking alternative means of escape. This was organised retreat? Suddenly, above the din, we heard the sound of fighter aircraft and then recognised the planes as Typhoons, not only that but our Senior British Officer made us aware that they were from his own squadron!!!
Within seconds the pilots began their attack on the fleeing troops and it was plain that we were not to be spared. The bus stopped, but our guards would not allow us to dismount and seek shelter.
They were armed and we were not but the S.B.O. took his life in his hands and hurled himself at the nearest guard who immediately dropped his rifle and, together with his colleague, left the vehicle. We helped one another off the bus and headed for farm buildings nearby. The pigs were hastily evicted and we took their places. The sty was strongly built and we felt a good deal safer. Three of the walking wounded decided that this was an ideal opportunity to attempt an escape.
I know for certain that one, Sgt. W. Durland was successful, for his story was told in the records of 514 Squadron which was my own squadron. I have not heard the outcome of the others who made the attempt. At last the aircraft broke off their attack and we were ordered to re-board the bus which was undamaged and we noticed that there was no Red Cross insignia, Squadron
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Leader Brannigan was not too sure that a red cross would have made very much difference to the attack, as the bus was slap in the centre of the fleeing convoy. Slowly we moved on again.
The damage reeked on the fleeing army was horrendous and one could only feel pity for the wounded and dying, as each person in the convoy seemed bent on one task - to reach shelter and perhaps safety. As the day drew to a close, we felt a little safer, for we were aware that fighter aircraft would not operate in the dark and bombers would be too expensive to use against targets such as a fleeing convoy.
It was quite dark when we drew into the suburbs of Venlo, but we now came under attack from Dutch citizens who thought that we were German soldiers being carried away from the front-line. Fortunately no great damage was done and at last we were deposited at a Convent near the centre of the town. Our first thought was, "When are we going to get something to eat?" and then we became puzzled as to why we had been taken to the very top floor of the Convent.
The second question was answered by the Mother Superior who informed us that the senior German officer in the town did not want the responsibility of looking after us, perhaps if we remained hidden on the top floor advancing German troops would pass us by. You will remember we had heard a similar tale before.
For four days we remained hidden. We had reasonable food and excellent facilities. Perhaps this time we would be recaptured. It was not to be. On the morning of the fifth day, one of our number decided to investigate the troop noises in the street below. Sadly his appearance on the balcony was noticed by the civilian population below. They waved and he acknowledged their greeting, but was spotted by a soldier who was passing by. It had to be a member of the S.S.! Within minutes, we were taken into the grounds of the convent and I believe that the others felt as I did, we were going to be executed !!! To our great relief, this did not happen. A few hours later we were put aboard railway wagons to be transported into Germany.
INTO THE THIRD REICH
At the railway station, we were kept strictly apart from the civilian travellers who were boarding trains for various parts of Germany, and we were ushered towards a row of cattle trucks standing in a siding. The doors at the side of the trucks were open and we could see barbed wire, which was stretched across the width of the truck separating the interior into two sections. On the left were a number of palliasses, and to the right a cast iron wood burning stove and three bunks. We realised that this was to be our mode of transport for the next leg of our journey.
The guards occupied the section with the stove and we were to travel in the other section, but where we were heading, no-one would tell us. We came to the conclusion that our trip was not going to be a long one, for there was no food or drink aboard. The doors slammed shut; we heard the locks on our side being closed and then we were on our way. There were eight of us, and three very old men acting as guards. It was very dark and the soldiers had no wish to converse just yet but as we moved into the countryside, we learned that the men were really "Home Guards" and were terrified of authority, and for some reason, equally terrified of us. We had been classified as dangerous prisoners!
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Uncomfortable as it was we gradually fell asleep, only to be woken up by a string of German oaths and the sight of one of the guards frantically trying to beat out the flames coming from his very long ersatz overcoat. He had got too near the stove, which was now glowing in the dark. His companions came to his aid, and soon all was quiet, except for the injured guard who was now afraid of his fate when he came to the end of his journey and would have to report the incident.
There was nothing we could do to help treat his burns, for we were separated from him by the barbed wire screen. As evening approached, the following day we pulled into a siding and the doors were opened. We had not travelled far as we could hear voices calling, "Dusseldorf!
Dusseldorf”- this was our destination.
We dismounted and after a few moments, our party was separated into two groups, the RA.F. to one side and the U.S.A.A.F to the other. The American section was put aboard a bus and immediately moved from the station. We never saw them again. As for us, we boarded a truck and moved out of the city. The journey to our destination did not take very long and we eventually stopped at a camp which we soon realised was a Workers Camp.
It was divided into four compounds, which housed French, Italian, Polish and Russian citizens who were forced to work in the locality. Our quarters were to be in the French section and a few hours after our arrival, we were allocated three Russian prisoners to serve our every need. It was not too long before we realised that there was a definite pecking order at the camp.
After the Germans, the French were the pampered race. The Italians came next, followed by the Polish inmates and a very very long way behind came the Russians. Germans did not stand guard over the Russian compound, they left that to the Polish group and the Russian group provided the guard for the Polish compound ! !
At this stage we found it very difficult to comprehend the attitude of the Germans towards the Russian and the Polish people, after all, we had not been subject to the rule of the Nazi regime, and as yet, had met none of the cruelty meted out to the races they, the Germans, had conquered. Not many days were to pass before we saw examples of such cruelty, and it was with disbelieve that we saw Russian captives digging holes in the ground, into which they placed their dead comrades.
At least the Polish dead were given a decent burial service, and had fellow countrymen saying a prayer or two at the graveside and in some cases, placing a small wooden cross to mark the spot where the internment had taken place. Why were there so many deaths among these two races? The Russian captives would be given food only if they carried out a day's work and this explained why they were so eager to be our "servants". The food we gave them was perhaps sufficient to keep them alive for a few days longer, and even to build up their strength to resume the work they were ordered to carry out for their German captors, so obtaining further rations.
It was so sad to witness the actions of these poor creatures when they scrambled for a cigarette end, a crust of bread or any other morsels discarded by us. They took enormous risks to find a hole in the barbed wire, through which they’d visit our quarters and offer to carry out the most menial tasks for a very meagre reward.
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Our next concern was more to do with ourselves, we seemed to be receiving rather a lot of French Red Cross parcels and the British parcels were turning up in the French section, but were issued to French workers. Really it was the shortage of English cigarettes and chocolate that triggered the enquiry.
The British Red Cross parcel was superior in every way to the French one, and the contents much greater in both calorific value and for the purposes of bartering. At the meeting we held with the French quartermaster, we discovered that the French believed that, as they were used as workers by the Germans, they were entitled to the better products in the British parcel. It must be noted here that Senior N.C.O.s and Officers were not obliged to work for the enemy and very rarely did so.
The plight of the other inmates in the camp was not considered by the French. The atmosphere was somewhat strained for the next couple of weeks and I think both sides were happy when it became known that the R.A.F. were to be moved on, again no hint of our destination was given. The day of our departure arrived and I was asked by the Medical Officer in the camp to forego my crutches and use sticks in future. With some hesitation I acceded to his request and was able to walk out of the compound.
We were ferried to the station at Dusseldorf and saw a city devastated by bombing. The majority of the workers in the repair gangs were women, and we discovered that these were Russian. They looked wretched. Armed guards surrounded the area in which they were working. Quickly we boarded the cattle trucks, which were similar to those in which we had travelled from Venlo.
This time there were no incidents. Eventually we disembarked at a town called Menningen in the district of Thuringia. Our home was to be in a beautiful Opera House, which had been stripped of its finery to accommodate large numbers of P.O.W.s.
The residents were for the most part captives from the Arnheim operation, but there were also many aircrew held in the wire compounds. Entertainment seemed to be the order of the day. Impromptu concerts seemed to take place daily, added to which was the opportunity to view a group of circus performers who were camped outside the fence. Somehow, they seemed to have dodged the call-up.
Food was of the highest quality, or maybe we were now becoming used to taste of ersatz; ersatz that was frequently embellished with the contents of Red Cross parcels. Almost daily the number of prisoners grew and it became obvious that some would soon have to be moved on, but no one really wished to go. Despite the overcrowding, the camp was reasonably comfortable. Perhaps this was because it was classed as a re-habilitation unit. It was with some regret that we took the journey to the station, there to board compartments of an ordinary passenger train but still guarded by Home Guards.
It was night time when we neared Frankfurt, and the train was diverted into a siding as an air raid was taking place on the city. We disembarked at around ten a.m., and as we left the platform, we were attacked by German citizens who wanted revenge for the raid which had taken place the previous evening. Who could really blame them? Our guards fixed bayonets and eventually drove
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the angry people away. Not all were happy to leave, and some followed the tramcar, which was to take us to the interrogation centre just outside the town. Bricks rattled against the coachwork.
Metal bars were used to smash windows, but our guards stuck to their task and we escaped without injury.
Chapter 5: STALAG LUFT 1XC KRAYSBURG
The dreaded DULAG LUFT !!! So often the subject of talks back in Britain. Here we could expect to be questioned on the activities of the R.A.F. and secret equipment of the Allied Forces. We had been instructed to provide only our Service number, Rank and Name and under no circumstances to enter into any discussion.
At once we were placed in cells which had only a bed on which was a straw palliasse, and by the door a device to attract the attention of the guards when the "Call of Nature" came. This gadget was used frequently so keeping the guards busy, they were not happy about this ploy to keep them on the move and the language they used to describe the prisoners was pretty choice. A childish prank but effective.
Messages in Morse code were tapped out on the walls between cells and on pipe work, but the contents were not within my knowledge of the Morse code even though the use of the code had been part of the navigator's course. Food was very poor. As the first day in solitary confinement drew to a close I realised that this was the first time I had really been alone since my capture, I was on my own.
There was no window in the room that I occupied, so I tried to get to sleep and to prepare myself for the interrogation I was to face very soon now. Would it be as testing as I had been led to believe back in England? The heat in the cell was overbearing and there was practically no ventilation, so it was no great surprise that I slept very fitfully and by morning I was not a very happy P.O.W.
The introduction to the camp was so weird. Between the entrance gate and the outer fence were a number of small wooden structures that looked exactly like dog-kennels, and each one of us was told to creep into one of these leaving our kit outside. There we remained for some time until ordered out again and told to retrieve the items that had been left outside. Next we were given a number and admitted into the main compound. The number was that of the barrack room we would occupy for the time we would be at the camp.
There was a reception committee and a barrage of questions about the progress of hostilities, but alas, there was little we could add to what they already knew for the majority, had been captured much later than we had. At last there was time to look around the room. It contained four sets of bunk beds, each with a paper palliasse filled with straw, supported by a few wooden boards. A small cupboard took up the space at the side of each set of beds. Near one wall was a cast iron stove with a chimney disappearing through the ceiling. Strung between the walls, were lines of string on which hung articles of clothing that had recently been washed. A shuttered window took
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up part of the remaining wall. It did not take long for me to be introduced to my room mates and to be advised which "mess" I would join.
Next I was told of procedures and the daily routine of the camp. In no time at all I was asleep. "Raus!! Raus!!" Such a banging and clattering, it was time to rise, dress and present our selves for roll call. What a motley collection! There we stood in ranks of five, lined up on three sides of the huge open square. German soldiers counted us five by five and informed the senior N.C.O. of the total number present. On a cold, bleak day this procedure lasted for no longer than 20 minutes but when weather conditions were good all sorts of pranks were played to keep the prison staff employed for anything up to two hours.
Each block was allocated a time for taking a shower-cold- and once each week there was the luxury of a hot shower if you managed to get a place at the head of the queue. On odd occasions clothes could be bagged and passed through a steam plant but this procedure was not popular as clothes tended to shrink so the cold water wash was the most sought after. The food we were served was appalling but we were informed that it was the same as that served to equivalent ranks in the German Forces, this was very difficult to accept and it made us eternally thankful for the extra items we received in the Red Cross parcels now regularly provided.
Perhaps it would be beneficial to mention what the parcels contained.
A British parcel would have in it basic items for providing nourishment, such as tinned bacon, tinned sausages, tinned margarine, dried milk, chocolate, prunes and a supply of cigarettes and other sundry items.
An American parcel would contain similar articles but the sausages would be replaced by Spam and there would be a larger tin of dried milk, the prunes would be replaced by raisins and in addition there would be toilet soap, much loved by the Germans and so very useful for trading purposes.
A Canadian parcel would be a mixture of the two, and parcels from France and the Commonwealth would generally be in a bulk delivery and passed to the kitchen for general use. The cardboard, string and empty tins were hoarded and used for many, many purposes. It was truly amazing what could be done by tradesmen who enjoyed practising their civilian skills in the re-cycling of tins etc.
Empty "Klini" tins were just the right size to fit the chimney of the stove and gradually the stove would be extended to-wards the middle or the floor so enabling more people to benefit from the heat generated, unfortunately, just when the stove had reached the centre, the German guards would organise an S.S. visit and not only the stove would be dismantled but many items were confiscated, and food that had been carefully stored, scattered and made quite unfit to eat. In retrospect it seems a futile pastime but at the time, it was a question of trying to outwit the enemy. Day by day the camp became an organised society. Rules of behaviour were drawn up and strictly adhered to, this was very necessary for the well being of all concerned.
Educational sessions became the norm and talks and lectures provided an additional interest for those not interested in studying for examinations, the results of which would be accepted on return
[page break]
to the UK Again materials and exam papers were provided by the Red Cross.
Entertainment was a must. Regular concerts were organised and again the inmates showed great prowess in making scenery and costumes from "bits and pieces".
News of the progress of hostilities was produced from I know not where, but there was a clandestine radio in use. Bulletins were issued on a daily basis, and of course, each new batch of prisoners was questioned on initial admission to the camp.
At the beginning of December, the weather changed for the worse. Snow fell and the temperatures dropped alarmingly. The walks which had been taken daily, now became runs but physical effort burned up energy and food supplies were not good, however, a supply of ice skates arrived, and soon work started on constructing a makeshift ice rink. The Canadians among us were overjoyed as gradually the rink took shape. Promises of skating lessons were made and for a few days hunger was forgotten.
Christmas would soon be with us and of course an entertainment to beat all previous efforts was to be produced.
A few days before these marvellous dreams were to become reality, there was the sound of aircraft overhead, not British, not German, but on closer examination, these were found to be Russian planes. What was happening? The news bulletins had said nothing of this but it now became obvious by the behaviour of the German troops that something was amiss.
We were ordered to leave the outdoor areas whenever an air-raid siren sounded. Sadly, one airman lost his life when he re-acted too slowly to this order. Perhaps the reader can imagine the tension that now built up within the camp. Few were brave enough to leave the barrack blocks and arrangements had to be made to ensure that those bringing food from the cookhouse were not made targets, should a raid occur on the journey. The number housed had been increased because places had to be found for new inmates that now included Glider pilots, victims of the raid on Arnhem.
Twelve bodies now filled the space previously used by four. It was essential that discipline was maintained and thanks to previous training , it was. A few days passed and the sound of heavy artillery was heard. There was little doubt that the Russian forces were not too far away. Were they aware that we were in the area? My mind went back to the advance on Brussels and the hope we had of being released. No promises were made this time. We received orders to gather our scant belongings together and prepare for a long trek to a camp within the German border. No transport would be available and the snow was still very deep. How would we survive? Makeshift rucksacks were made as were sleds that would carry food and equipment during the coming days. Some acted in groups but the majority elected to be responsible for their own future.
Christmas Day 1944. The gates of the camp were opened and we set out on our journey. The guards took up their positions either side of the column, thankful that they were not being left to face the advancing Russian forces. No longer were we the enemy, but a means of escape into the Fatherland.
[page break]
Not many hours had passed when we realised that civilians had joined the column. Old men, women and children, all striving to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the enemy. They were terrified that they would become prisoners of those who their own propaganda had warned were little better than animals. It was not long before mothers asked us to care for their children, and overnight, we found that we had been left with several young boys and girls, hoping that they would be safe with us. Obviously this was not possible, and at the first village we reached, we made provision for them to be transported by the German authorities. I often wondered what became of those children.
The greatest barrier we faced was at the River Oder. There was a town on our route -0ppeln- but we would not be passing through this town, but would walk across the frozen river. Now we were in Germany proper. The next stop on our journey would be the huge camp at Llamsdorf. This camp had been used as a camp during World War I. Now it was home to thousands of prisoners of every nationality where Germans had occupied the country of origin.
Chapter 6: LLAMSDORF AND BEYOND.
This camp filled me with foreboding. It was huge and the inmates looked so intimidating as they took their daily exercise. Gaunt figures in clothing which had seen better days, faces deeply etched showing that they had not had quite so comfortable a time as we who had just joined them. Many had spent several years in Llamsdorf and were looking towards the final days of captivity.
We soon learnt that although the appearances were poor there was still spirit and determination within the wire. The family atmosphere of Kraysburg was absent but the organisation necessary to provide a reasonable code of conduct was definitely in place. The quarters I was allocated were cold and damp; the only heating coming from the personnel living in the cramped space. Personal hygiene was not of a very high standard and the attitude of my companions bordered on hopelessness. My thoughts turned towards getting myself moved to some other section of the camp where life would not seem so dreary. I was not prepared for events of the next few days.
As at Kraysburg, a make shift open-air ice-rink had been constructed and tiered seating had been installed. Obviously not all had the same approach as my room-mates. Crowds gathered in the freezing air to watch an ice hockey game between a Canadian side and a side made up of various nationalities. It was exciting and many looked forward to further contests as well as using the rink simply for amusement.
I was granted my move, but after only a few hours, was ordered to pack what few possessions I had and join a group of sick and lame colleagues for onward transfer. Enquiries revealed that our small group was being transferred to yet another camp where we would be medically examined to determine whether or not we were suitable for repatriation. A couple of hours train journey took us to a camp specifically for army N.C.O's. The rest of the day was spent preparing ourselves for inspection when we appeared before the panel of Swiss Red Cross Medical Officers who would decide our future. Would I be repatriated? "No!" was the short answer but I would remain at the new camp. Here was a camp where 90% of the inmates had been captive since Dunkirk. The
[page break]
organisation was superb! Units in which I had been stationed back in the U.K. were not any better than this. I am sad to say that I cannot remember the name of this camp. Every inmate seemed to want to help the newcomer. Of course this could not last. This had been the story of my life for almost a year. The Russians were coming. This time I was able to ready myself for the next move. We were advised to gather in groups of four and to ensure that there was not more than one "Disabled" person in each group. When all was ready we evacuated the camp and set off to face what was to be a pretty horrific experience.
During the daylight hours we rested in pine forests or on farms on our route south. At night we walked and walked and walked. This arrangement was made so that our winding columns would not be mistaken for marching German troops and so become targets for any roving aircraft.
Whenever possible we would stock up on food. Crops would be raided and farmyard animals killed to provide sustenance for hungry mouths. I was appointed quartermaster for our small group mainly because I was not ruthless enough to carry out the pilfering necessary to sustain the four of us, whereas the others had become skilled in the art during the long years of working on German farms and in factories. I was most fortunate and shall be eternally grateful to my colleagues.
After several weeks of "marching" we arrived at a railway siding and were ordered to board cattle trucks for the next leg of the journey. Forty men and their equipment to each truck!!!! How degrading this was cannot be imagined. Toilet facilities were none existent and as each stretch of the journey was carried out during the hours of darkness, it was such a relief when dawn came and the doors to the truck were opened. Cold though the weather was, there was no hesitation should there be a stream nearby. The first task was to wash and prepare for the next night's journey. Now there was not a supply of Red Cross parcels and we relied upon the rations provided by our captors, these were very meagre indeed. Tempers frayed but astonishingly there was no pilfering of supplies.
After almost three weeks travelling back and forth across the operating rail system we came to a halt at a major railway station. PRAGUE! Much to our surprise we received hot soup from ladies who were the equivalent of the W.V.S. and we were allowed to draw water from the boiler of the engine to make tea (those who still possessed tea leaves), but sadly, our stomachs could not cope with the intake of potato soup and brackish water, many P.O.W's were very sick indeed. Another day passed and once again we journeyed along the rail system until there was just nowhere to go by rail.
Trucks were unloaded and prisoners and their guards set off over the countryside. At about this time the older guards were taken away to bolster the army elsewhere and their places taken by schoolboys enlisted in the Hitler Youth Movement. The situation was very delicate as the majority of these young boys were fanatical in their hatred of the enemies of the Reich. Time and time again they treated their prisoners cruelly and took little notice of the older members of the guard. On at least two occasions, prisoners were killed because of their failure to respond quickly to instructions from some youngster. When a batch of Red Cross parcels appeared there was increased tension as these were strictly for distribution to captives, and the new guards were
[page break]
loathe to hand the parcels over. Common sense prevailed and the daily routine continued. On and on we roamed unaware of our destination or indeed the final outcome.
An overnight stay at a camp near Munich, too crowded to receive any other bodies, simply helped to fix our position and to receive news of the progress of the war. A few more days and our section of the column was ordered to stay in a primary school building in the Austrian village of Kirschberg. Now we were in the American battle area. We settled into our new billet under the watchful eyes of the local population, and slept through the sound of gunfire and raiding aircraft.
Dawn broke and there was no sign of guards of any age. Walking out of the school I saw many inhabitants walking towards a church nearby and on enquiring whose feast day it was, I received the answer, " The war is over."
On the 7th May 1945 a troop of American soldiers appeared and gave the official news. They left sufficient food and other items to supply a small army. With great care born out of weeks of shortage, we divided the rations and prepared to be taken to an Allied base.
It was such a strange feeling to be free to wander where we pleased. There was an airfield at Strauben a few miles away and it was towards this that we headed, only to find that every aircraft had been destroyed and so were unfit for our use. Nothing for it, but to wait for the U.S. Army to return and arrange for us to be transferred the United Kingdom. The food we had been given was strange to us, the white, fluffy bread and real butter seemed to be so unappetising after the rough rations we had become used to.
Almost a week passed before an army truck arrived, and our journey home began. Our destination was the airfield at Rheims in France and on arrival, we saw several Lancasters with crews. These were to be the means by which we would finally make the journey home. Groups of ex- prisoners were allocated to each aircraft, told to hang on to anything they could and in a very short time we would land at an RA.F. base at Wing. Once again there was disappointment for my group. The Navigator for the aircraft had "gone missing". Wasn't I a Navigator? The pilot was quite prepared to trust my ability to map read until he could pick up radio contact. So, away we went and each occupant of the aircraft was allowed in turn to visit the flight deck and view the white cliffs of Dover as we approached England.
After landing at Wing we were escorted to a huge marquee where we suffered the indignity of being fumigated, given a cursory medical examination and then the luxury of a very hot shower. Almost three and a half stones lighter and almost unrecognisable from the person who had left on the disastrous trip to Aachen - I was home.
Chapter 7: FIFTY YEARS ON.
The next two years were somewhat confused. I was still a Navigator but, because of the injuries I had received, I was no longer considered medically fit to resume flying duties. Added to this the
R.A.F. had a surfeit of flying personnel, now that hostilities had ceased. What was I to do? I had no desire to serve as a member of ground staff. I chose to accept discharge.
[page break]
I attempted to contact the families of my crew but had little success. Only one person replied to my letters. It was to be some fifty years before contact was made and this came about in strange circumstances.
In 1990 I attended a Squadron Re-union at Waterbeach and was asked if I had any item which could be displayed in a Museum which was to be housed at the airfield, now the home of the Royal Engineers. I felt that my P.O.W. Idenitity Card would be of some interest among the stories and photographs of operational sorties. Little did I know that this exhibit was going to open up again the search for relatives of my crew! On the 27th October 1992, Mr. Clive Hill, who was the nephew of Clive Banfield, our Flight Engineer, visited the museum in his search for information concerning the flying career of his late uncle. As he was leaving the building he spotted the Identity Card and at once realised that, as only one 514 Lancaster did not return on the 11th April 1944, the person in the picture must be the sole survivor he had been trying to find.
Several letters and telephone calls resulted in a meeting being arranged at my home on 6th April, 1993. Contact was established with Bill Thackray in Australia, and soon family members of other crew members had been found. Despite all Clive's efforts, there was no trace of the Wireless Operator or the relief Navigator.
In May, 1995 Bill Thackray and his wife Hazel, travelled to Europe and spent some time visiting the War Cemetery where the six members of Lancaster LL639 were interred. They too visited the Museum and called on us at Worksop. It was possible for Clive to join us and, of course, I was able to enlighten them regarding the fateful night, 11th April 1944. Many relevant questions were asked and answered and it was resolved that we would be keeping in touch from that day forth. For the following two years, Clive continued with his research of the incident. He spared no effort in obtaining data regarding the incident and produced an account of the last hours of the aircraft and crew, finally drawing the whole story together in a highly illustrated book, "Investigation into the loss of 514 Squadron Lancaster II LL639 on 11th April 1944." His research had taken him to the village of Molenbeersel in Belgium where he met the remaining member of the Conen family who had been so kind to me and several others, who had witnessed the crash or had been young children at the time and heard the story from their parents.
Obviously the matter could not rest at that and soon arrangements were in hand to erect a memorial to ensure the incident would not be forgotten -
A site was cleared and the villagers built a structure to house a plaque concerning the event. The date for the dedication was set and Mrs. Hill (the sister of Clive Banfield), her husband, myself and my wife, Clive and Judith and several residents were present at the dedication. Nothing was too much trouble for the people of the area who were still full of praise for those who had released them from the strain of the years of the Second World War.
The friendship formed over that weekend has not been allowed to lapse. The inscription on the plaque reads:
THIS MEMORIAL WAS ERECTED AS A TRIBUTE TO:
[page break]
P/O N.W.F. THACKRAY PILOT RAAF
SGT. C.W. BANFIELD FLIGHT ENGINEER RAFVA SGT. R HUGHES WIRELESS OPERATOR RAFVR F/SGT. J.R. MOULSDALE AIR BOMBER RAAF F/SGT. C.H. HENN M.U. GUNNER RAAF
F/SGT. R.E BROMLEY R. GUNNER RAAF
WHO DIED WHEN THEIR AIRCRAFT - LANCASTER LL639 OF 514 SQUADRON RAF CRASHED AT THIS SITE ON 11 APRIL 1944 RETURNING FROM A
NIGHT BOMBING RAID TO AACHEN
ERECTED IN THE PRESENCE OF THE SOLE SURVIVOR SGT. E.L. HUMES NAVIGATOR RAF
AND MRS A.G. HILLSISTER OF THE FLIGHT ENGINEER
'NIL OBSTARE POTEST’ 11 JULY 1990
PRISONERS OF WAR 514 SQUADRON F/Sgt. J.D. ALFORD 2/12/43 BERLIN R.A.A.F.
F/O. S. BAXTER 3/8/44 BAL DE CASSON R.A.A.F. Sgt. A.J. BLACKSHAW 2/2/45 WEISBADEN
FALL J.M.J. BOIJRKE 21/1/44 MAGDEBURG R.C.A.F. F/Sgt. M.J. BOURNE 12/6/44 GELSENKERSCHEN Sgt. F.W. BROWN 11/5/44 LOUVAIN
Sgt. J. BREWER 21/1/44 MAGDEBURG F/Sgt D.R. BURNS 11/9/44 KAMEN
Sgt. G.H. BURRIDGE 2/2/45 WEISBADEN F/Sgt. F.J. CAREY 7/6/44 MASSEY PALAISEAU Sgt. J. S. CAREY 30/1/44 BERLIN
F/O J.E.S. CLARE 21/1/44 MAGDEBURG R.C.A.F. F/Sgt. J. CLARKE 7/6/44 MASSEY PALAISEAU Sgt. F. COLLINGWOOD MASSEY PALAISEAU Sgt. P.G. COOPER 12/6/44 GELSENKIRCHEN F/Sgt. H.J. COSGROVE 30/3/44 NUREMBERG
P/O A.B. CUNNINGHAM 11/5/44 LOUVAIN R.N.Z.A.F Sgt S. G. CUTTLER 21/1/44 MAGDEBERG
P/O H.G. DARBY 30/3/44 NUREMBERG F/Sgt G. DAVIS 20/12/43 FRANKFURT F/O K.D. DEANS 22/3/44 FRANKFURT
Sgt. E.G. DURLAND 12/8/44 RUSSELSHEIM
W/O W.E. EGRI 3/8/44 BOIS de CASSAN R.C.A.F.
[page break]
F/O F.J. EISBERG 21/11/44 HOMBURG Sgt. W.H. ELLIS 21/11/44 HOMBURG
F.O. M.S.C. EMERY 2/12/43 BERLIN F/O G.C. FRANCE 21/11/44 HOMBURG Sgt. R. GALLOWAY 2/12/43 BERLIN
F/Sgt E.F. GARLAND 28/7/44 STUTTGART R.C.A.F. F/Sgt. H. GILMORE 3/ 8/44 BOIS de CASSAN
Sgt. G.F. GOOD 11/9/44 KAMEN
F/Sgt R.L. GULLIFORD 30/1/44 BERLIN
F/Sgt. B.S. HAINES 18/11/43 MANNHEIM R.A.A.F F/Sgt A.D. HALL 30/ 3/44 NUREMBERG R.N.Z.A.F. F/Lt. G.H.D. HINDE 2/12/43 BERLIN S. Rhodesia Sgt P. S. HOARE 22/3/44 FRANKFURT
Sgt. G.M. HOLT 12/8/44 RUSSELSHEIM
F.O. P.J.K. HOOD 30/3/44 BERLIN F/Sgt. E.L. HUMES 11/4/44 AACHEN
T. Sgt. M.G. LANTHIER 30/3/44 BERLIN U.S.A.A.F.
P.O. LWC. LEWIS 7/6/44 MASSEY PALAISEAU Sgt. R.B. McALLISTER 23/4/44 BERLIN R.C.A.F.
F/Sgt. J.R Mc.CLENAGHAN 3/8/44 BOIS de CASSAN R.C.A.F. F/Sgt. C.G.E. McDONALD 30/3/44 NUREMBURG R.C.A.F. F/Sgt A. Mc. PHEE 30/3/44 NUREMBURG
F.O. W.D. Mc. PHEE 22/3/44 FRANKFURT R.C.A.F. F/Sgt. C.D. MEDLAND 21/5/44 DUISBERG
F/Sgt. J.E.MALONEY 23/12/44 BERLIN R.A.A.F Sgt. S.W. MOORE 2I2/45 WEISBADEN
F/Sgt K. MORTIMER 30/1/44 BERLIN Sgt. W. MUSKET 2/12/43 BERLIN
F/Lt. C. W. NICHOL 22/3/44 FRANKFURT F/O. R.J. RAMSEY 11/5/44 LOUVAIN Sgt. J.D. REID 3/8/44 BOIS de CASSAN
F/Sgt. R.J. RIGDEN 12/9/44 FRANKFURT
F/Sgt. A.J. ROBERTSON 30/1/44 BERLIN R.A.A.F. Sgt. G.F. ROBINSON 28/7/44 STUTTGART
F/O. K.S. ROBINSON 26/8/44 KEIL
Sgt. C.L. ROBINSON 11/9/44 KAMEN R.C.A.F. F/Sgt V.J. ROLLINGS 30/3/44 NUREMBURG Sgt. J. SCULLY 3/8/44 BOIS de CASSAN
Sgt. R.C. SIME 22/3/44 FRANKFURT R.C.A.F.
[page break]
Sgt. R.L. SMITH 21/11/44 MAGDEBURG Sgt. W.J. STEPHEN 21/12/43 BERLIN
F/Sgt. G.H, STROMBERG 7/6/44 MASSEY PALAISEAU Sgt. F.C. TOWNSHEND 22/3/44 FRANKFURT
P.O. C.O. TURNER 12/9/44 FRANKFURT F/Sgt. L.J. VENUS 21/5/44 DUISBERG
P.O. V.H.J.VIZER 21/1/44 MAGDEBURG F/Sgt. E.J. WALLINGTON 30/1/44 BERLIN Sgt. H.H. WICKSON 30/3/44 NUREMBURG F/O R.J.S. WILTON 30/3/44 NUREMBERG
F.O. D.A. WINTERFORD 11/5/44 LOUVAIN
F/Sgt R.J. WOOSNAM 7/6/44 MASSEY PALAISEAU
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Just Another Story
Description
An account of the resource
Recalls joining the RAF as a flight mechanic in 1939 and then employed as a barrage balloon operator. Describes his subsequent selection for aircrew and training in London, St Andrews, Manchester and in advanced navigation at Dumfries. Next covers operational training on Wellington and beginning to crew up. Continues with conversion to Lancaster at RAF Little Snoring. Eventually posted to RAF Foulsham to join newly formed 514 Squadron which then moved to RAF Waterbeach. First flight on the squadron was 25 November 1943. Continues with description of life on the squadron and mentions operational flying through December 1943 and January to March 1944. Mentions first operation to Biarritz and operation to Nuremburg on 30 March 1944. Continues with account of being hit by anti-aircraft and set on fire on operation to Aachen. Describes bale out, injured leg, capture and time in hospital Writes of approaching allied troops and fighting and being transported by Germans to Venlo in Holland and then into Germany eventually to Stalag 1XC at Karysburg. Describes life and activities in camp and approach of Russian forces. Continues with account of long march back to Germany. Gives account of time at Stalag VIII-B Lamsdorf and preparations and journeys for repatriation. Tells of eventual liberation by United States troops and return to the United Kingdom. Continues with account of post war and getting in touch with relatives of his crew. Concludes with the building of a memorial in the village of Molenbeersel in Belgium and lists the members of his crew who died as well as prisoners of war from 514 squadron.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Essex
England--London
England--Bedfordshire
Scotland--St. Andrews
England--Manchester
Scotland--Dumfries
England--Norfolk
England--Cambridgeshire
France
France--Biarritz
Germany
Germany--Aachen
Netherlands
Netherlands--Venlo
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Bad Sulza
Poland
Poland--Łambinowice
Germany--Munich
Belgium
Belgium--Limburg (Province)
Germany--Nuremberg
England--Lancashire
France--Palaiseau
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1939
1943-11-25
1944-03-30
1944-04-11
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
R Marsh
E Humes
Format
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Twenty-six page printed document
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BHumesELHumesELv1
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
David Bloomfield
12 OTU
1678 HCU
514 Squadron
Air Observers School
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
bale out
bombing
bombing of Nuremberg (30 / 31 March 1944)
Botha
crewing up
Dulag Luft
flight mechanic
Gee
ground crew
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 2
memorial
military living conditions
military service conditions
navigator
Operational Training Unit
prisoner of war
RAF Bridgnorth
RAF Cardington
RAF Chipping Warden
RAF Dumfries
RAF Foulsham
RAF Heaton Park
RAF Little Snoring
RAF Waterbeach
RAF Wing
Red Cross
sport
Stalag 8B
strafing
the long march
Tiger Moth
training
Typhoon
Waffen-SS
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1671/30470/LCameronD173516v2.1.pdf
9909f78d20b7acfc578dc3f2efa9da88
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
Cameron, Don
D Cameron
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
2020-08-20
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Cameron, D
Description
An account of the resource
90 items. The collection concerns Flight Lieutenant Don Cameron (173516, Royal Air Force) a pilot who flew Lancaster on 115 Squadron. Collection contains his log books, a memoir, a aircrew categorisation card and photographs.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Neil Cameron and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Access Rights
Information about who can access the resource or an indication of its security status. Access Rights may include information regarding access or restrictions based on privacy, security, or other policies.
Permission granted for commercial projects
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Don Cameron’s Royal Canadian Air Force pilots flying log book. Two
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
LCameronD173516v2
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending review
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
Royal Canadian Air Force Pilots flying log book two, for Don Cameron, covering the period from 24 January 1943 to 1 October 1947. Detailing his flying training, operations flown, instructor duties and post war flying duties with 246 and 242 squadrons. He was stationed at USAAF Napier Field, RAF Windrush, RAF Docking, RAF Little Rissington, RAF Wing, RAF Little Horwood, RAF Silverstone, RAF Wratting Common, RAF Waterbeach, RAF Witchford, RAF Feltwell, RAF Lindholme, RAF Lulsgate Bottom, RAF Finningley, RAF Snaith, RAF Dishforth, RAF Homsley South, RAF Oakington and RAF Full Sutton. Aircraft flown in were Harvard, Oxford, Wellington, Stirling, Lancaster, and York. He flew a total of 33 operations with 115 squadron, 5 daylight and 28 night. Targets were Berlin, Schweinfurt, Augsburg, Frankfurt, Villeneuve St George, Laon, Rouen, Cologne, Dusseldorf, Karlsruhe, Nantes, Cap Griz Nez, Courtrai, Le Mans, Duisburg, Dortmund-Ems Canal, Boulogne, Aachen, Calais, Ouistreham, Le Havre, Valenciennes, Mont Didier, Domleger, L’Hey. Biennaise, Villers Bocage, Beauvoir, Watten, Vaires and Nucourt. His pilots on operations were Flight Lieutenant Halley, Warrant Officer Jolly, Pilot Officer Cameron and Flight Sergeant Rellew.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Mike Connock
Callum Davies
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.
France
Belgium
Germany
Great Britain
United States
Atlantic Ocean--English Channel
Alabama--Dothan
Belgium--Kortrijk
England--Buckinghamshire
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Gloucestershire
England--Hampshire
England--Norfolk
England--Northamptonshire
England--Somerset
England--Yorkshire
France--Amiens Region
France--Beauvoir-sur-Mer
France--Boulogne-sur-Mer
France--Caen Region
France--Calais
France--Laon
France--Le Havre
France--Le Mans
France--Montdidier (Hauts-de-France)
France--Nantes
France--Nucourt
France--Pas-de-Calais
France--Paris
France--Rouen
France--Vaires-sur-Marne
France--Valenciennes
France--Villers-Bocage (Calvados)
France--Watten
Germany--Aachen
Germany--Augsburg
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Dortmund-Ems Canal
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Karlsruhe
Germany--Schweinfurt
Alabama
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
France--Ouistreham
France--Domléger-Longvillers
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-01-30
1944-01-31
1944-02-15
1944-02-16
1944-02-24
1944-02-25
1944-02-26
1944-03-22
1944-03-24
1944-03-25
1944-04-09
1944-04-10
1944-04-11
1944-04-18
1944-04-19
1944-04-21
1944-04-22
1944-04-23
1944-04-24
1944-04-25
1944-05-08
1944-05-10
1944-05-11
1944-05-19
1944-05-20
1944-05-21
1944-05-22
1944-05-23
1944-05-25
1944-05-28
1944-06-04
1944-06-06
1944-06-14
1944-06-15
1944-06-16
1944-06-18
1944-06-21
1944-06-23
1944-06-24
1944-06-27
1944-06-28
1944-06-30
1944-07-02
1944-07-05
1944-07-06
1944-07-07
1944-07-08
1944-07-10
115 Squadron
1651 HCU
1656 HCU
1678 HCU
17 OTU
242 Squadron
26 OTU
aircrew
bombing
bombing of the Le Havre E-boat pens (14/15 June 1944)
bombing of the Normandy coastal batteries (5/6 June 1944)
Cook’s tour
Flying Training School
Harvard
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
Lancaster Mk 1
Lancaster Mk 2
Lancaster Mk 3
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
pilot
RAF Dishforth
RAF Feltwell
RAF Finningley
RAF Full Sutton
RAF Lindholme
RAF Little Horwood
RAF Little Rissington
RAF Oakington
RAF Silverstone
RAF Snaith
RAF Waterbeach
RAF Windrush
RAF Wing
RAF Witchford
RAF Wratting Common
Stirling
tactical support for Normandy troops
training
Wellington
York
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1671/30465/BCameronDCameronDv1.1.pdf
b0bff7f94bf1612f872c86b64efb811e
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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Cameron, Don
D Cameron
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
2020-08-20
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Cameron, D
Description
An account of the resource
90 items. The collection concerns Flight Lieutenant Don Cameron (173516, Royal Air Force) a pilot who flew Lancaster on 115 Squadron. Collection contains his log books, a memoir, a aircrew categorisation card and photographs.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Neil Cameron and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Access Rights
Information about who can access the resource or an indication of its security status. Access Rights may include information regarding access or restrictions based on privacy, security, or other policies.
Permission granted for commercial projects
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[Illustration showing Lancaster Bomber with following text superimposed]
World War II & Flying Memoirs
by Donald Cameron
[handwritten] To Neil & Diane
With love from Dad
Don Cameron
June 6, 2000 [/handwritten]
[page break]
[italics] Donald Cameron World War II and Flying Memoirs [/italics]
[Photo of man in RAF uniform]
[bold] How did I get to be in Scotland and England for 15 years? [/bold]
Most of you will have heard this story already, but just in case, here it is again.
In 1937, my sister, Miriam arranged to spend her summer holidays with a visit to Scotland. I went with Mum and Dad to see her off at Union Station. I don’t think the train was out of sight, when Dad said, “Let’s go off to Scotland too”.
I told them that I could not really go, because I had promised to go to a boys’ camp at a farm just north of Klienburg, as nature study leader. This camp was got going by one of my brothers Ken’s friends, Al Richardson. The boys were mostly from Dufferin St. Baptist Church. We had cycled up there quite often in the spring to get things all set up. Of course Ken could not go either, because he was already working.
Well my parents quickly arranged for Mrs Mascall to be our housekeeper while they were away and Mum and Dad took off for their holiday in Scotland.
1938 was the year of the Empire Exhibition in Glasgow Scotland and I was hoping that somehow I get to see it. We had friends, Dr. Ernie and Bella Pallet. We knew them as Uncle Ernie was a government veterinarian. He suggested that I should work my way to Scotland on a cattle boat. I went for that in a big way, so he
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[page break]
[italics] Donald Cameron World War II and Flying Memoirs [/italics]
arranged the whole thing. I was to start my trip at the stock yards at St. Clair and Keele Street, where I was to get aboard the caboose of the cattle train. Actually I first had to climb up into the shunting engine, while they were hooking up the train, great fun for a sixteen year old. Then I climbed down and changed into the caboose. This part of my journey cost $2.00. There were three of us in the caboose, me and an old Glasgow man, as well as the regular guard. It was quite a ride. Canadian Pacific had started their express freight trains, which was something new at that time. I was surprised to see a spanking new passenger engine on the front of our train. I was able to sit up top and look out over the train and all around as we took off along the CP line across the city just north of Dupont St. very close to home, then out through Agincourt on the line that still comes through Whitby. As night came on I was given a mattress to sleep on and it was on top of what looked like a storage chest, with a flat top. Everything was just dandy until the engineer decided to slam on the brakes. This was no stop like on a passenger train. I went sliding, mattress and all right off the bed place and hit the front of the caboose. The guard had a good laugh. So did I, once I realised that nothing was wrong. This happened just near Trenton.
Next day, I had to arrange about signing on as part of the crew of the cattle boat. Apparently I was the youngest of the lot. They decided that that I should be pantry boy and that did not please me at al. I had hoped to be looking after the cattle. Strangely, the cattle were breeding stock. Usually, I thought, Canada imported breeding cattle from Europe, but apparently it worked both ways.
One of my duties was to take the brass ventilators off the officers’ cabin doors, polish them, and put them back on. I had them all set up in the pantry, perched myself on a high stool and started to clean them up. Well, the captain came by and started yelling at me. I hadn’t a clue was [sic] he was saying, although I found out later that he came from Port Gordon in Banffshire where my mother was from. Anyway, I got fired as pantry boy and was put with the other cattlemen. I was happy about that. We had a real nice smooth trip across the Atlantic. It was like a mill pond. A big Basking Shark seemed to follow us all the way. I had never seen one of them before.
There were all sorts of surprises; we were not strictly a cattle boat; we had other cargo as well. I remember watching as they loaded all sorts of stuff. I remember that there were crates marked Singer Sewing Machines. As we sailed up the Clyde, I was surprised to see the big Singer Sewing Machine factory on the banks of the Clyde.
We docked at Princess Dock in Glasgow, right in the centre of the city. We were told to wait board until Customs and Immigration came aboard to clear us. Well I sat for a good half hour and then decided that nobody seemed anxious to see me. So off I went. I had an address to go to and started off on a tram. I was meeting Emily Gault, one of the women who made our house their meeting place. These women were in Toronto in domestic Service. Emily worked in Rosedale.
We got together alright and I made some visits to the Empire Exhibition. Then Emily was to take me north to
3
[page break]
[italics] Donald Cameron World War II and Flying Memoirs [/italics]
visit her family in Thurso, right up in the very north of Scotland. I remember that I had a hard time realising that it could possibly be 11 p.m. and still be quite light.
[blank space - missing photo?]
My big memory from his visit was my first flight in an aircraft. The lane was a DeHaviland bi-plane with a crew of one, the pilot. The door to the cockpit was left open and I wondered how this guy could fly this plane and take pictures of the WWI battleships that had been scuttles in Scapa Flow back in those old days.
After that I went to visit all my relatives in Buckie and Aberchirder. Finally I settled in Aberdeen with Aunt Miriam and Uncle John. I had a great summer holiday.
My father had asked me to look at a course with the North of Scotland College of Agriculture. We intended to go into a horticulture business together, once I graduated from my training. I really did not want to train in Scotland and told him that I would much prefer to go to Niagara College for my training. The result was that I suddenly realised that I was due to report in Glasgow for my return trip to Canada, but had never gone to see the college in Aberdeen. Their head office was in an old Victorian building at 41 ½ Union Street on the 5th floor. The elevator was an old fashioned wire covered affair, which did not impress me at all. I took a look at the big mahogany door with frosted glass and gold lettering and decided this was not for me. Before I had turned to come away a woman came up behind me. She said, “You want the North of Scotland College of Agriculture? This way.” She seemed to almost push me through the door. I know she did not actually, but anyhow I was in.
Well they did have a good course. One of my spur of the moment decisions made me sign up for the course. So there I was a guest of my aunt and uncle which my Dad had arranged if I should decide to stay. Before I could start my course, they required a year’s experience working in horticulture. If I wanted, I could work without pay, in their experimental gardens at Craibstone. I started almost immediately.
As Craibstone was about 5 miles from where I lived in Aberdeen, I soon got permission to buy a bicycle.
I well remember the day war was declared. On Sunday, September 3rd, 1939 I came out from morning
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Donald Cameron: World War II and Flying Memoirs
worship service to find that special editions of the Press and Journal were being sold on the street corners. Britain had declared war on Germany after they refused to withdraw from Poland. We had been reading about their Blitzkreig tactics throughout their take over of so many countries in Europe. I thought, “They will sink this little island!”
By this time I had finished my year at Craibstone. I started the course and I did finish my first year. Of course by this time Britain was at war with Germany. The government wanted to increase food production as much as possible. I was asked if I would postpone my training until after the war. I told them that I felt sure the answer would be, “Yes”, but as I was here at my father’s expense, it would have to be his answer. His reply to my cable agreed. The college then employed me at Craibstone as one of their gardeners
Britain had conscription, so one by one the workers were absorbed into the armed forces. I gradually took over different jobs. The last one I took over was to operate their big Dennis power mower. The lawns were to be cut with light and dark stripes and very straight. Mowing one direction I would make a light stripe. Going back the opposite direction it showed up as dark. The job was to keep all lines straight. Mr. Cox, their head gardener wondered whether I could manage this task. I was willing to try. He watched as I did a few lines and decided that I could do the job just fine. I must admit that they did look good.
My age group came along for conscription. I reported, showing my passport to show them my age. They told me that I was not a resident, just a visitor and could not be conscripted. I was amazed and asked if anything could stop me from volunteering. No, I could certainly do that. I made my way to the RAF recruiting office and volunteered for the RAFVR (Volunteer Reserve).
Eventually I was asked to report at Lord’s Cricket Grounds in London. We were in a holding centre until we could finally be sent to an ITW (Initial Training Wing). They were really pushing pilot trainees through at this time and all ITW’s were going at capacity. I was sent instead, to a bomber airfield, Hemswell in Lincolnshire, where the education officer did his best to teach us what we had to know. I did manage to pass, although more than half of our course did not make it. They were sent to a regular ITW.
After finishing my ITW course at Hemswell in Lincolnshire, I was eventually posted to a holding centre in the Metropole Hotel in Brighton. This seemed to be a place where trainees were kept until somewhere would be available to start them on their flying training. In all I was there for 16 weeks. It was a case of being present for morning parade, where a roll call ensured that you were present. This was followed by a march along the promenade, for no better reason than there was nothing else to do with us. It did not take long for a few of us to find that being in the tail end of this parade, we could easily vanish down a side street and be lost. There was a convenient Lyon’s café, that had delicious crumpets and marmalade. The local YMCA, I think it was, had a good billiard table. I became pretty good with billiards and snooker during this period. I did get a task to do in the post office in the hotel. Apart from sorting out the mail for inmates like myself, we also collected the old newspapers for
5
[page break]
Donald Cameron: World War II and Flying Memoirs
disposal. I started doing the Daily Telegraph crossword puzzle, which developed my liking for good crosswords. We did get really fed up down in Brighton. A posting to Rhodesia came up, so I volunteered to goo there for my flying training. After getting various inoculations for all sorts of diseases, I got a week’s embarkation leave. Then I was told that since I came from overseas, I could not be sent overseas for my training. Apparently they had lost one or two who had just vanished once they were away from Britain.
Eventually I did get a posting to an elementary flying training school at Booker, near Marlow in Buckinghamshire. I was happy at last to be flying, but it had taken until March 23rd, 1942 to get to this stage. I thoroughly enjoyed flying. Apart from my actual training there are events that I will never forget.
Early in my training my instructor was flying us to an auxiliary field. I decided that my harness was not tight enough. I pulled the release and began to pull them tighter when I noticed that the horizon was beginning to slowly go around. He was doing a slow roll. I had no time to even attempt to do up any of my harness. All I could do was to brace myself on the sides of my cockpit and hold myself from dropping out as the ground went slowly pas as I looked down at it. When I told him what had happened he had a good laugh.
Again, early in my flying, it might have been my first flight (but I’m not sure about that), my instructor, an ex-fighter pilot got together with a Boston fighter bomber. The two of them decided to have a mock dog fight. It was great fun, but my poor stomach. It was not accustomed yet to this kind of thing. I sat, holding my stomach, but enjoying the whole thing.
My first experience at night flying was quite something. We took off into the inky blackness of the blackout. The idea was to fly a square pattern to the left after getting up to 1000 ft. Then as we turned to complete the square, we should find that we were approaching the landing strip again ready for descending to make a landing. It was a scary feeling, to think that we were actually doing this with no navigation aids at all. However after several circuits it gradually became just the thing to do.
I was in real trouble on Easter weekend. The day before the weekend I was flying solo doing circuits and landings. I came in to land, right in front of the commanding officer’s office. There was a gusty sort of wind and I had trouble getting the plane to land. Right away I remembered the important instructions. With any difficulty in landing, give the engine full power and go round again for anther[sic] circuit. I opened up the throttle and got the shock of my life. My port wing just dropped and hit the ground and the poor old Tiger Moth flipped right over, nose to the ground, leaving me hanging upside down in my harness. I quickly released my harness and dropped onto the ground. Then I remembered – turn off the ignition switch. I crawled back under the plane and did so. I was to report to the commanding officer right after Easter weekend.
I went into London for the weekend, and spent the time with my brother, Ken. He was stationed at RCAF
6
[page break]
Donald Cameron: World War II and Flying Memoirs
headquarters in London at Canada House. Unfortunately I forgot the the[sic] last train from Marlebone Station left 5 minutes earlier on Sunday nights. I just missed it. In fact I saw it pulling out of the station. We went to Ken’s place overnight, and I got up and made my way to the station, but the train I got was not the first one in the morning. I was on the mat for not being back to base by 11:59 hrs. I had to see the Commanding Officer about that. Well it turned out that he gave me 7 days jankers for that. Then I had to wait to see him about my upside down landing. I was really down in the dumps, thinking I would probably fail as a pilot. What a surprise when he sent a message out that he did not want to see me about this, as he had watched my attempted landing and said I had done everything right. What a relief. I didn’t mind my 7 days of picking up litter etc. after that.
After 41 hrs. 5 min. of flying training at Booker there was another change of policy. There would be no more flying training in Britain. All training would be overseas.
All pilot trainees were to have a flying test after 8 hours flying to judge whether they should continue as pilot trainees or switch to some other aircrew training. I was told that I was to be sent to the U.S.A. for my training. We got the impression that they were sending the better flyers to the “General Arnold” scheme. I don’t think I was any better than most, but my 8 hour test was done after 41 hours flying.
Primary Training, Lakeland Florida. PT 17.(Stearman)
I finished flying at Booker EFTS on May 10th, 1942. We were sent overseas in the old ‘Leticia’ which had been converted into a troop transport. We soon found ourselves in Moncton, New Brunswick, awaiting posting to get flying once again. I somehow found that we would be two or three weeks, so applied for leave to visit Mum and Dad in Toronto. I got it! It was great to see them again and to visit with lots of people that I knew. Then it was back to Moncton where we found a good swimming hole beside a railway line, not far from our base.
Finally we boarded the troop train, which was to take us to somewhere in the southern States. One of our stops turned out to be in the Union Station in Toronto. It looked as though we would be there for a while, so I phoned home and told Mum which platform we were stuck on. She came down and was able to meet a good few of my friends who were training with me. I think she was able to spend about an hour talking to us all.
7
[page break]
Donald Cameron: World War II and Flying Memoirs
Fourth row, fourth from right:
[photograph]
Course 43B
Lodwick School of Aeronautics[?] 1942.
8
[page break]
Donald Cameron: World War II and Flying Memoirs
worship service to find that special editions of the Press and Journal were being sold on the street corners. Britain had declared war on Germany after they refused to withdraw from Poland. We had been reading about their Blitzkreig tactics throughout their take over of so many countries in Europe. I thought, “They will sink this little island!”
By this time I had finished my year at Craibstone. I started the course and I did finish my first year. Of course by this time Britain was at war with Germany. The government wanted to increase food production as much as possible. I was asked if I would postpone my training until after the war. I told them that I felt sure the answer would be, “Yes”, but as I was here at my father’s expense, it would have to be his answer. His reply to my cable agreed. The college then employed me at Craibstone as one of their gardeners
Britain had conscription, so one by one the workers were absorbed into the armed forces. I gradually took over different jobs. The last one I took over was to operate their big Dennis power mower. The lawns were to be cut with light and dark stripes and very straight. Mowing one direction I would make a light stripe. Going back the opposite direction it showed up as dark. The job was to keep all lines straight. Mr. Cox, their head gardener wondered whether I could manage this task. I was willing to try. He watched as I did a few lines and decided that I could do the job just fine. I must admit that they did look good.
My age group came along for conscription. I reported, showing my passport to show them my age. They told me that I was not a resident, just a visitor and could not be conscripted. I was amazed and asked if anything could stop me from volunteering. No, I could certainly do that. I made my way to the RAF recruiting office and volunteered for the RAFVR (Volunteer Reserve).
Eventually I was asked to report at Lord’s Cricket Grounds in London. We were in a holding centre until we could finally be sent to an ITW (Initial Training Wing). They were really pushing pilot trainees through at this time and all ITW’s were going at capacity. I was sent instead, to a bomber airfield, Hemswell in Lincolnshire, where the education officer did his best to teach us what we had to know. I did manage to pass, although more than half of our course did not make it. They were sent to a regular ITW.
After finishing my ITW course at Hemswell in Lincolnshire, I was eventually posted to a holding centre in the Metropole Hotel in Brighton. This seemed to be a place where trainees were kept until somewhere would be available to start them on their flying training. In all I was there for 16 weeks. It was a case of being present for morning parade, where a roll call ensured that you were present. This was followed by a march along the promenade, for no better reason than there was nothing else to do with us. It did not take long for a few of us to find that being in the tail end of this parade, we could easily vanish down a side street and be lost. There was a convenient Lyon’s café, that had delicious crumpets and marmalade. The local YMCA, I think it was, had a good billiard table. I became pretty good with billiards and snooker during this period. I did get a task to do in the post office in the hotel. Apart from sorting out the mail for inmates like myself, we also collected the old newspapers for
5
[page break]
Donald Cameron: World War II and Flying Memoirs
disposal. I started doing the Daily Telegraph crossword puzzle, which developed my liking for good crosswords. We did get really fed up down in Brighton. A posting to Rhodesia came up, so I volunteered to goo there for my flying training. After getting various inoculations for all sorts of diseases, I got a week’s embarkation leave. Then I was told that since I came from overseas, I could not be sent overseas for my training. Apparently they had lost one or two who had just vanished once they were away from Britain.
Eventually I did get a posting to an elementary flying training school at Booker, near Marlow in Buckinghamshire. I was happy at last to be flying, but it had taken until March 23rd, 1942 to get to this stage. I thoroughly enjoyed flying. Apart from my actual training there are events that I will never forget.
Early in my training my instructor was flying us to an auxiliary field. I decided that my harness was not tight enough. I pulled the release and began to pull them tighter when I noticed that the horizon was beginning to slowly go around. He was doing a slow roll. I had no time to even attempt to do up any of my harness. All I could do was to brace myself on the sides of my cockpit and hold myself from dropping out as the ground went slowly pas as I looked down at it. When I told him what had happened he had a good laugh.
Again, early in my flying, it might have been my first flight (but I’m not sure about that), my instructor, an ex-fighter pilot got together with a Boston fighter bomber. The two of them decided to have a mock dog fight. It was great fun, but my poor stomach. It was not accustomed yet to this kind of thing. I sat, holding my stomach, but enjoying the whole thing.
My first experience at night flying was quite something. We took off into the inky blackness of the blackout. The idea was to fly a square pattern to the left after getting up to 1000 ft. Then as we turned to complete the square, we should find that we were approaching the landing strip again ready for descending to make a landing. It was a scary feeling, to think that we were actually doing this with no navigation aids at all. However after several circuits it gradually became just the thing to do.
I was in real trouble on Easter weekend. The day before the weekend I was flying solo doing circuits and landings. I came in to land, right in front of the commanding officer’s office. There was a gusty sort of wind and I had trouble getting the plane to land. Right away I remembered the important instructions. With any difficulty in landing, give the engine full power and go round again for anther[sic] circuit. I opened up the throttle and got the shock of my life. My port wing just dropped and hit the ground and the poor old Tiger Moth flipped right over, nose to the ground, leaving me hanging upside down in my harness. I quickly released my harness and dropped onto the ground. Then I remembered – turn off the ignition switch. I crawled back under the plane and did so. I was to report to the commanding officer right after Easter weekend.
I went into London for the weekend, and spent the time with my brother, Ken. He was stationed at RCAF
6
[page break]
Donald Cameron: World War II and Flying Memoirs
headquarters in London at Canada House. Unfortunately I forgot the the[sic] last train from Marlebone Station left 5 minutes earlier on Sunday nights. I just missed it. In fact I saw it pulling out of the station. We went to Ken’s place overnight, and I got up and made my way to the station, but the train I got was not the first one in the morning. I was on the mat for not being back to base by 11:59 hrs. I had to see the Commanding Officer about that. Well it turned out that he gave me 7 days jankers for that. Then I had to wait to see him about my upside down landing. I was really down in the dumps, thinking I would probably fail as a pilot. What a surprise when he sent a message out that he did not want to see me about this, as he had watched my attempted landing and said I had done everything right. What a relief. I didn’t mind my 7 days of picking up litter etc. after that.
After 41 hrs. 5 min. of flying training at Booker there was another change of policy. There would be no more flying training in Britain. All training would be overseas.
All pilot trainees were to have a flying test after 8 hours flying to judge whether they should continue as pilot trainees or switch to some other aircrew training. I was told that I was to be sent to the U.S.A. for my training. We got the impression that they were sending the better flyers to the “General Arnold” scheme. I don’t think I was any better than most, but my 8 hour test was done after 41 hours flying.
Primary Training, Lakeland Florida. PT 17.(Stearman)
I finished flying at Booker EFTS on May 10th, 1942. We were sent overseas in the old ‘Leticia’ which had been converted into a troop transport. We soon found ourselves in Moncton, New Brunswick, awaiting posting to get flying once again. I somehow found that we would be two or three weeks, so applied for leave to visit Mum and Dad in Toronto. I got it! It was great to see them again and to visit with lots of people that I knew. Then it was back to Moncton where we found a good swimming hole beside a railway line, not far from our base.
Finally we boarded the troop train, which was to take us to somewhere in the southern States. One of our stops turned out to be in the Union Station in Toronto. It looked as though we would be there for a while, so I phoned home and told Mum which platform we were stuck on. She came down and was able to meet a good few of my friends who were training with me. I think she was able to spend about an hour talking to us all.
7
[page break]
Donald Cameron: World War II and Flying Memoirs
Fourth row, fourth from right:
[photograph]
Course 43B
Lodwick School of Aeronautics[?] 1942.
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While flying Oxfords, I was sent to Docking in Norfolk to practice the use of radio beam approach. Off to one side of the beam the radio signal was the letter ‘A’ in Morse code. On the other side it was ’N’. When the dot?dash merged with the dash/dot, they made a constant continuous signal and that was right on the beam.
My flying at Windrush was completed on July 20th, 1943. I was given a 72 hour pass, before reporting to No. 26 OTU (Operational Training Unit) at RAF Station Wing. On the train heading up to Aberdeen, a fellow asked what I was doing on this leave. I told him that I only had a three day pass and had no idea whether I was going to my wedding or not. I soon found out. Mary and I were married on July 24, 1943. It was a beautiful sunny Saturday too. It was in the middle of the Aberdeen Trades Week holiday and there were no facilities open for the reception. We had 14 at the reception in Mary’s Aunt’s tenement flat, next door to where Mary lived. My Aunt Barbara happened to be in Aberdeen that weekend. I insisted that she come to the wedding. She said she was ‘Black Affronted’ she had nothing to wear. I insisted that she come in whatever she was wearing. We, of course, had nowhere to go for even a brief honeymoon, but another friend, Jean, got on the telephone to another friend, Jeanie.
Jeanie had the hotel in Huntly. The phone call was hilarious. It started something like this, “Is that you Jeanie? Well this is Jean. There’s this couple just newly married. They just have this weekend. Could you put them up?” When we got to Huntly, (incidentally, my Aunt Barbara travelled with us on her way back to Buckie) we found that Jeanie had cleared out the Bridal Suite for us. (Short but sweet, the honeymoon).
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Operational Training Unit
Strangely enough, I was a day late in reporting to No. 26 Operational Training Unit, and even more strangely, nothing was ever said about it. Here, at RAF Station Wing, (Little Horwood) I was crewed up and we flew Wellingtons Mk. 3’s and 10’s. Our flying began on August 16th 1943. We worked up to our special exercise, dropping leaflets on Rouen in France. I have included this with my operational flying in detail.
During some of my night flying, I had a new experience. While taking off one night one of my tyres burst. I did manage to get the plane off the ground, but called up to let control know about it. My flight commander came on the
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radio and told me to just circle until all night flying was completed. My crew were of differing opinions as to which tyre was gone. I felt that it was the port main wheel. My bomb aimer was sure it was the starboard wheel. I decided to go with my own decision, because I was flying the plane, and it certainly felt like the port wheel. After many tedious hours of circling the airfield I got instructions to land. My flight commander spoke to me, giving me very detailed instructions as to what to do. I was to land using the starboard wheel to land on. I was to try to keep my port wheel off the runway as long as possible. I could expect the plane to veer off the runway as once the port wheel came down. I had to repeat everything back to him. Then he wished me a good landing, and said that he would be right behind me on his motor bike when I landed. Well I got it down on the starboard wheel, but as soon as we lost all lift the port wheel came down we veered into inky blackness. When we finally came to a stop, he was right there. I was calling each of the crew to make sure they were OK. He yelled to me to get out in case of a fire. Luckily there was no fire, but I did find the end of my port propellor imbedded about six inches behind my head. Nobody was hurt!
It was while we were here that Mary sent me a telegram telling me that grandmother had died. She did not specify that it had been her grandmother, so I figured I might get some time off. I went in to the commanding officer with the telegram and he gave me a 72 hour pass. I could leave in the morning after finishing all my night flying that night. By the time I arrived in Aberdeen, I had fallen asleep in the train. Mary had come to the station, but no Don. The cleaners came in, because the train had to leave again, so luckily they wakened me and I arrived at 31 Justice Street not very long after Mary and her uncle.
That crew of mine was split up after my navigator, Hugh Maher (pronounced Marr) RCAF, was invalided out of the air force and sent home to Montreal.
I was posted to No. 17 OTU at Silverstone, to take over a headless crew. Neither they nor I were very happy about this, but we soon got to know each other. They had not completed their OTU training, so I flew with them until they had all completed their various exercises.
We advanced from OTU first to 1651 Conversion Unit at RAF Station, Wratting Common, where we all had to get familiar with flying the Short Stirling. We flew the Stirling Mks. 1 and 3. I did not like the Stirling. This took us to January 5th, 1944.
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So much for the Stirling; we were off to 1678 C.F. Waterbeach where we were introduced to the Lancaster Mk.2. My first flip in the Lancaster was familiarisation with F/O Coles. Again we had a burst tyre. F/O Coles made a beautiful landing at Newmarket Race Course. On January 25th, 1944 we were sent to 115 Squadron at Witchford, near Ely. I was now a flight sergeant.
October 4th, 1943: Special Exercise
This was my first flight over enemy occupied Europe. I wondered how I would react. Fortunately I was O.K.
On this night there was a raid by 406 aircraft on Frankfurt, with a diversionary 66 Lancasters bombing Ludwigshafen. There were 12 Mosquitoes went to Knapsack power-station, 1 mosquito to Aachen, 5 Stirlings did mine laying in the River Gironde, 8 O.T.U. sorties. There were no losses on the Ludwigshave [sic] raid. On the Frankfurt raid there were 10 RAF aircraft lost, 5 Halifaxes, 3 Lancasters, 2 Stirlings. One of 3 American B17’s was lost. I was one of the 8 O.T.U. sorties. We were not aware of these other activities.
At this time I was doing my operational training, flying Wellingtons, at RAF Station, Wing. We were to go on a special exercise, our first time over enemy territory. We were to fly to Rouen in France, then up wind, a distance predetermined by the winds at the time. Then we were to drop our leaflets which would float down to Rouen to inform the French people a bit of what the Allies were doing 2.
It was a funny feeling to be flying over enemy controlled territory for the first time. Our route was planned for us, but unlike later bombing raids there was no exact timing. We were to fly south to the Needles (Isle of Wight), then across to Fecampe on the French coast, south to Rouen, and then west, almost to Le Havre, where we were to drop our leaflets. Then we were to turn north east to Fecampe once again, then home via the Isle of Wight.
The weather was fully overcast, but the clouds were quite low. We climbed into bright sunlight and headed for the needles. I had a rough idea of how long this should take us and was soon asking my navigator, Hugh Maher (pronounced Marr) if we were nearing our turning point. “No, not yet,” came the reply. It seemed to me that we must have passed the
2 I have included a copy of this leaflet in these memoirs (see page 16).
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needles when I asked again. He had not yet fixed our turning point. Eventually I said to Hugh that by now, I was sure that we must be right across the English Channel and over the Cherbourg Peninsula, and asked what his air plot told him. He told me that he had not maintained his air plot, because this aircraft was fitted with GEE. He had been unable to get a fix with GEE.
Great! Now I felt certain that we were lost somewhere over France. After establishing that there was no way he could work out any reckoning of where we were, I had to resort to radio. The Wireless Operator called for a fix – no reply. I asked him to try again with a priority. This he did. Yes, we were over the Cherbourg Peninsula of Normandy. I then told Hugh that we would fly north east from this fix. He was to use only dead reckoning navigation, no GEE. When we reached our intended crossing route of the Channel, he would guide us to Fecampe, Rouen, up wind to dropping point, back to Fecampe and so on. This we did. How ever after leaving the French coast, Hugh decided to get himself a fix using GEE radar. He was really worried. He came on the intercom telling me that he had just got a fix with GEE. We were not over the English Channel, but were over the North Sea.
A fix with GEE is a definite thing. I began to doubt Hugh’s ability with his dead reckoning navigation. To reach base we should fly roughly west south west. He gave me the course to fly. Eventually he told me that we should be crossing the cost. It was pitch black but there was no sign of a coastline even though the clouds were no longer below us. I told Hugh that we were certainly not crossing a coastline, but he assured me that he had been doing an air plot, dead reckoning since the Fix. Well I said that we should get an answer on the R.T. That was my job, so I called. No answer, I called using the distress call, “May Day”. No reply.
At this point I asked the Wireless Operator to ask for a fix using a priority. No reply. We were fairly low on fuel by this time so I said, “Same again with S.O.S.” Back came an immediate fix. We were over Brittany, in France.
To get home I had to turn almost 180 degrees. Then I gave my crew the serious news. One wing was completely empty of fuel. Both engines were using the almost empty port wing tanks. We still had a 60 gallon tank full, not much to fly very far. When the engines stopped we would pull the cross feed to use both engines on this 60 gallon tank. If they stopped after that was gone we would bale out.
Once again we were over 10/10 cloud, and as things turned out, this helped up. The airfield at Christchurch, near Bournemouth was having problems with their lighting. My bomb aimer was the first to see clouds off to starboard with lights going on and off, lightening them up.
We headed straight for them and I called up to get permission to land, asking what the cloud clearance was. I also told them I was very short of fuel. They told me that I had 800ft clearance under the cloud and told me to land. As we broke through the cloud, incidentally now using the last 60 gallon tank, I found right in front of me a beautiful runway lit with green lights at the beginning, white along the
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sides and red towards the far end. I did not care what airfield Command station, Hurn. Later in my career I was based at this field with B.O.A.C.
Poor Hugh! Once back at OUT, the navigation boys did a thorough review of his night’s efforts. They credited him with successfully flying to the target area and to the dropping point. It was the GEE fix that was the big error. The chain of stations were designed for the east coast of Britain. They were useless off the south coast, where we were flying. Previously he had suffered a severe bash on his head, coming out of a crew bus with his equipment. The rear slanted doors had slammed on his head. Later, while flying with another crew doing practice bombing with smoke bombs, they apparently had a very heavy landing, which set off one smoke bomb they had not dropped. He was standing in the astro-dome and figured the quickest way out of what seemed to be a burning aircraft was to bash his way through the Perspex dome.
They found that he no longer had the ability to navigate. He was invalided out of the RCAF and sent home to Montreal. My entire crew was split up. I was sent to R.A.F. Station Silverstone, where I took over a crew which had no pilot.
January 30th, 1944
This is the night I first went on a bombing raid. I did not pilot the aircraft. The pilot was F/Lt. Hallet. He was a Newfie and really wonder how he ever qualified as a pilot. When we crossed the enemy coast on the way home, he this was, I just landed. It turned out to be a Coastal asked me whether I would like to fly right back to base, which of course I gladly did. As we came in to make our landing, he asked me what the green light was, just before the runway. “There has always been a red light there before.” The light, of course was the glide path indicator. If you were high it shone amber. If you were too low it shone red. Right on the correct glide path it shone green. I explained to him what it indicated. On his next bombing trip, he actually hit the top of one of the Drem light poles on the way in.
However he was terrific as an operational pilot, and I picked up some valuable tips from him. He pointed out the slight difference between our Pathfinder markers at the target and the decoy markers dropped by the Germans. He also showed me a Lancaster going down in flames and the German oil bomb which simulated this. We called them Scarecrows. Since the end of the war, we found that the Germans had no such things as these scarecrow bombs. They had, however a type of gun and gun sight which fired up from below on an angle. They called it in German, “Slant Music.” Maybe this is what we saw.
Before the briefing, we knew it was to be a long tripfull load of fuel. However, it was still a shock to walk into the briefing room. There was a big map of Europe with a red tape running from our base at Witchford, across the North Sea, over Denmark and the Baltic Sea. Then there was a 90 degree turn south to Berlin. The homeward trip was right across Germany, south of Brunswick and Hanover, north of the Ruhr, across Holland and back to our base. I really believed that this was to be the last day of my life here on
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earth. Yet there was no thought of not going. After all, this is what all my training had been for. In fact this was some final training for me before I took my crew with me. It proved to be an excellent training trip. I did not know any of this crew I was flying with, but they did a very good job. F/Lt. Halley made a point of showing me various things, some of which I have mentioned. At interrogation after the trip they did a good job of giving an accurate account of what happened. I felt ready now to tackle such a sortie on my own. However on 115 Squadron new pilots always did two trips as second pilot. My next trip would be on February 15th, 1944.
This raid was made up of 534 aircraft. There were 440 Lancasters, 82 Halifaxes and 12 Mosquitoes. 33 aircraft were lost, 32 Lancasters and 1 Halifax or 6.2% of the force.
February 15th, 1944
This was my second sortie as a second pilot. This time I flew with a crew, every one of which had the DFM (Distinguished Flying Medal). The pilot was an excellent flyer, but in my estimation, not a good captain of his crew. I honestly believe they probably got their DFM’s in their fabulous interrogations, or de-briefings. I was really amazed at what I heard.
Fortunately it was a quiet trip, as far as contact with enemy fighters or flak were concerned. Again, the target was Berlin and we flew a very similar route to the one on January 30th. All the way along there was very little silence between crew members. One would talk to another and so on. My crew were never like that, even on local flights. On the ground we were just a great bunch of guys, but once inside the aircraft they were a real good crew.
There was a very unfortunate occurrence. After we had turned south from the Baltic and were flying towards Berlin, the intercom system broke down. There is a system of light signals for the bomb aimer to let the pilot know how to approach the target, to replace the, “right right” or “left” verbal instructions. Instead, the bomb aimer shouted his instructions from his position down by the bomb sight. The pilot couldn’t hear properly what he had shouted, turned the plane fairly quickly. The bomb aimer presumed they were being attacked by a night-fighter and jettisoned all our bomb load. There was quite a mix up until they set off for home, with bomb doors closed. As I recall, the intercom did come on again, so things settled down more or less.
In my judgement, our load of bombs were dropped well east of Berlin. Of course we were not told of other activities that night, but I did see a raid in progress in Frankfurt-on-Oder. I think our load was somewhere between these two targets.
Back at base we were ushered in for interrogation. According to that crew we had been attacked while running up to the target. The bomb aimer had taken an opportunity as we levelled off to drop our bombs, he claimed, pretty close to the markers etc. etc. I could not believe my ears. Mind you, from my point of view, I could not have had two second pilot trips with better teaching. The first on January 30th showed me how; this one showed me how not to. From now on I would be skipper of my own crew.
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There were 891 aircraft on this rain, 561 Lancasters, 314 Halifaxes and 16 Mosquitoes [sic]. The records show that on this night, apart from this raid, 23 Mosquitoes [sic] attacked 5 Night-fighter airfields in Holland, 43 Stirlings and 4 Pathfinder Halifaxes carried out mine laying in Keil Bay. Also 24 Lancasters made a diversionary raid on Frankfurt-on-Oder.
Total sorties this night were 1070. 45 aircraft were lost, (4.2%).
February 24th, 1944 - February 25th, 1944
On the 24th, I flew with my own crew for the first time. We bombed the ball bearing factory at Schweinfurt. Then, on the 25th, we bombed Augsburg. On the Schweinfurt raid there were 734 aircraft involved, 554 Lancasters, 169 Halifaxes and 11 Mosquitos. This was the first Bomber Command raid on this target. On the previous day 266 American B17’s had raided this target. Bomber command introduced a new tactic on this night. 392 aircraft and 342 aircraft separated by a two hour interval. The first wave of bombers lost 22 aircraft, 5.6% of the force. The second wave lost only 11 aircraft, 3.2% of the force. Total losses were 33 aircraft, 26 Lancasers [sic], 7 Halifaxes - 4.5% of the force. These sorties were very similar and the same thing happened to us on both trips. It was a weird sort of route and seemed to last forever. Actually it was 7 hrs 45 min on the 24th and 7 hrs 15 min on the 25th. On both occasions we were routed over France and almost to Munich, before turning north to our targets. Many of our bomber stream wandered over Switzerland in error, The Swiss, true to their neutral position, fired anti-aircraft flak, apparently well away from any planes, but giving no excuse for the Nazis to say they were favouring the Allies. We ourselves did not track over Switzerland.
Our problem was with the searchlights around Munich. Both nights they got me coned in what were obviously radar controlled lights. One lit up on me and immediately the manually controlled lights swung right onto me as well. So there I was, very new to this job and feeling very naked; on view to the whole of Nazi Germany. To say I was scared would be putting it extremely mildly.
I immediately threw the Lancaster into a violent, “Corkscrew” manoeuvre. This is what was drilled into us once we started flying bombers. Mind you, I had never actually done it before, and luckily for me, we were taking part in a second raid that night, on Schweinfurt. What I managed to do was to keep the fires of Schweinfurt somewhere in front of me as I threw that aircraft down to port and up changing to starboard and so on. It seemed like hours that I was in those searchlights. Luckily the smoke from the target area blacked out some of the searchlights, and by this time the radar-controlled lights would be trained on some other unlucky aircraft.
Ever since those two sorties I have had a strong aversion to searchlights of any kind, even those used in advertising.
Another incident happened on the Augsburg sortie. Before we were caught in the serachlights, I noticed out of the side of my vision that, “Taffy” Jones had his arm up in
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the air. What made me look round, I’ll never know, but we were very fortunate that I did. Taffy was obviously the only one who saw a Messerschmitt 110 attacking us from above and starboard. He was apparently speechless with fear, which is not really surprising, but could have killed the lot of us. As I looked round to see what Taffy was doing, I realised what was happening and gave the stick a quick shove forward. With the Lancaster II, with Bristol Hercules engines you can cut all engines by doing this. I must have dropped a few hundred feet, but we saw all the cannon fire pass overhead. I spoke to Taffy after we got back to base. I asked him to try to poke me, or something if he couldn’t speak.
On the Augsburg trip someone had timed our searchlight ordeal. We were coned in searchlights for 10 minutes.
Taffy was a very good and very thorough flight engineer. Once we were back at base, my thoughts were to get through our interrogation, then our bacon and eggs and off to bed. Taffy, of course had to give a full report which included dial readings of quite a few dials. He always was last one off the plane. I was always trying to egg him on. Once I had finished our tour, my ground crew, “Chiefy”, told me that they estimated we would last only about three or four sorties. They thought I was always arguing with my flight engineer.
Mind you, I felt that we could not possibly get through any of our sorties, even before we got airborne!
March 24th, 1944
We set off on March 22nd for a sortie to Frankfurt, but had to return to base shortly after take off because of the failure of our port inner engine.
On March 24th, our next sortie was back to Berlin for me and first time for my crew. As it turns out this was the last major bombing raid on Berlin. 811 aircraft took part in this raid, 577 Lancasters, 216 Halifaxes, and 18 Mosquitos. 72 aircraft were lost, 44 Lancasters and 28 Halifaxes - 8.9% of the force.
In spite of strong winds which were not forecast, we had no difficulty in reaching our target. Our route home was the one I had followed during two previous trips to Berlin. This was south of Brunswick and Hanover. Jog around the north end of the Ruhr, etc. If we had followed the route given me by my navigator, Rex Townsend, we would have flown right across the Ruhr with all its flak. Fortunately, many ahead of us made this mistake, and it was strictly because of a serious error in the forecast winds. At any rate, using the Ruhr searchlights for guidance, we successfully negotiated our way.
After that things began to go wrong. First of all our oxygen supply ceased to function. I maintained our height until we crossed the coast and were over the North Sea. This was very likely the cause of our troubles; 20,000 ft is far too high without oxygen.
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Once over the sea, we came down to under 10,000 ft so that we would not suffer any effects of lack of oxygen. Another unforeseen thing happened. Low cloud had formed over all of East Anglia We must have passed fairly close to our base, judging from the talk we heard on the RT. However my navigator was not able to get us to Witchford, in fact, according to his findings we were still a good distance from Witchford. On we flew, my RT signals were getting fainter. When Rex told me we were approaching base, I realised we were nowhere near and were getting a bit low on fuel. Fog was forming on the ground. As it turned out we were very close to Ludford Magna in Lincolnshire. They were equipped with FIDO, the fog dispersal system of gasoline fires along both sides of the runway. I called up and received permission to land. It was nice to get down onto the ground that night.
If this trip of ours to Berlin sounds a bit tame you should watch the video, “Night Bombers.” This is about a sortie to Berlin just a week or so before this. You would get some idea of what all our bombing trips were like.
How I Became a Commissioned Officer
Sometime between April 14th and April 18th, 1944 I no longer was F/S (flight sergeant) but became P/O (Pilot Officer). This is a crazy, almost unbelievable story.
Up until this time on 115 Squadron I was a flight sergeant. My crew were all sergeants. We all used the Sergeants’ Mess. We all lived in one Nissen Hut. This was a very good way to live.
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Our flight commander, Squadron Leader, George Mackie wanted all his pilots to be Commissioned Officers. I was well aware of this, but was quite happy living together with my crew, so did nothing about it. George Mackie was a typical air force guy, complete with a big handle-bar moustache. Incidentally, he was from Aberdeen. His family owned Mackies Dairy in Aberdeen.
I got pretty good at avoiding this little business of applying for a commission. However, one morning I made my way to the flight office. Very unusual, the office was empty, except for Mackie. As soon as I went in he said to me. “Ah Cameron, just the man I wanted to see. Take a seat at my desk.”
I could see the forms all laid out for me to complete.
Mackie went over to a filing cabinet, took out his revolver, put in a full six rounds and pointing it towards me said, “Now fill in those forms.”
He was laughing and so was I by this time. I told him that he could very well be court martialed [sic] for threatening me with his revolver.
Who would they believe with such a story, you or me?’ Well I pretty well had to fill in the forms for him. This is how I advanced from an NCO to a Pilot Officer.
One strange thing about my flight commander, he was not a pilot. He was doing his third tour as a Bomb Aimer. The pilot of his crew never got beyond the rank of Flight Sergeant. They were lost on a trip to LeMans on May 19th, 1944 after he finished his 25 sorties.
Apparently, our crew were the only ones who reported seeing a Lancaster going down in flames on that trip.
Mackie must have had access to all the interrogations. He told me that I was the only one reporting this. As you can imagine, he was very upset. He asked me whether there was a chance of any survivors. I had to tell him that if they were in that plane, none of them could possibly survive. It just blew up.
I was sent on 7 days leave at this time, so that I could purchase my new uniform. A friend of mine, who was in the RCAF, P/O Don McKechnie said that I should not travel in a NCO’s uniform, now that I was a P/O.
Mary and I had our photograph taken during this leave. We have it on the wall in our front room. A careful look would show you that the pilot wings are actually RCAF and not RAF.
May 9th, 1944
This was a very short trip, just across the Strait of Dover to Cap Griz New. We carried deep penetration bombs. Our instructions were to bring back the bombs if we could not identify the target. Our target this time was one of the rocket launching sites for the V2 rocket which could not be avoided until they exploded in London.
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We found the whole area was covered with 10/10ths. cloud, so we returned with our full load of bombs. Of course, we were still far too heavy to land. Our instruction were to jettison some of our fuel load, so this is what we proceeded to do. We emptied two tanks, one in each wing. One tank emptied just fine, but the other one emptied into the wing. The fuel ran into the bomb bay. The fumes from this fuel filled the whole aircraft. I didn’t realise that these fumes were affecting the crew, except the rear gunner, who was sealed from things in his gun turret.
It was not until I started to make my final approach that I began to realise that these fumes had made me a bit drunk. I certainly did not fancy landing without my full capacity to know what I was doing. Don’t ask me why, but I had not brought along my goggles. In any case I had to stick my head out my side window to clear my head. Mind you I had to more or less close them to just a slit because of the speed. Never mind, we made a good landing with our full load of bombs. I made sure that I had my goggles with me after that
These are a few other incidents that happened to us during our Bombing tour. Here are one or two incidents during some sorties.
Dusseldorf: April 22nd, 1944
597 aircraft took part in this raid. There were 323 Lancasters, 254 Halifaxes, 19 Mosquitos.
On each night bombing raid, one or two squadrons were given the task of being a support to the Pathfinder squadrons, who mark the target for the main force. We still had to try our best to bomb the target aiming point, but this was not our main function. We had two jobs. One was to give the Pathfinders a bit more cover. The other was to toss out lots and lots of, “Window.”
Window was strips of foil, the length of which were designed to appear on radar as aircraft. I believe the first time it was used was on a raid to Hamburg. It succeeded, making the German radar showing millions of aircraft. This provided cover for the main force coming behind us, but not for us. We had to try and bomb the aiming point, either by the markers, if available, or by our own recognition of the target. There was no problem; the Pathfinder Force were doing a good job.
This was entirely different from bombing with the main force. We were accustomed to a barrage of anti-aircraft fire, but this time it was not a barrage, they were aiming at individual aircraft, and that included us. This was much more scary; this was much more close generally than we were used to.
Duisburg: May 22nd, 1944
510 Lancasters and 22 Mosquitos carried out the first large raid on this target for a year. 29 Lancasters were lost, 5.5% of the force.
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Most of this trip was like any other trip, but two things stick out in my mind.
The first was as we approached the target. There were Lancasters circling everywhere, and cloud seemed to cover the whole target. They were obviously having trouble in finding the target. I instructed my Bomb Aimer, Attwood, that we would open the bomb doors as we ran up on the centre of the brightly lit clouds. If the worst came to the worst he should let them go as near to the centre of the searchlights as possible. Actually, this strategy worked in our favour. I soon found out the reason for all the circling. As we approached the centre of the lit up clouds, there was a big hole right down to ground level, and there, right on our path were the target markers. We were able to get an aiming point on our photograph. I was glad that we did not have to circle and try again.
Coming out of the target area, we had one of our many narrow escapes, and so did a German night fighter, who was heading into the target area to see what he could do. If he had been even six inches (15 cm) lower, or we had been that much higher, I am sure that we would have scraped each other and probably both planes would have been badly disabled and would have crashed. As he whizzed over us we felt the bump of the change of air pressure. That was the closest I ever got to a Junkers 88.
Cologne: April 20th, 1944
357 Lancasters and 22 Mosquitos took part in this attack. 4 Lancasters were lost.
After our Berlin Raid on March 24th, there was a change in the role of Bomber Command. Although Harris was still our commanding officer, he now came under General Dwight Eisenhower. This meant that the emphasis was no longer that of knocking out German industry, but was more designed to help with the coming, “Second Front.”
We had trips to Ville Neuve St. George on April 9th, and Laon on April 10th. We had some flak damage on this trip. Then it was Rouen on April 18th.
These were mostly railway marshalling yards, making railway transport more difficult for the Germans.
However, on April 20th, it was back to industry in Cologne. The Lancaster we were flying had one bad failing. It was very slow in climbing. All planes had various quirks, but I did not like this one.
Our route to Cologne took us to a point due south of Cologne, then we turned north to the target, climbing from 18 to 20 thousand feet. I knew that our aircraft would have no hope of making this climb and keep on time, so I instructed Rex Townsend, my navigator, to make our time at the turning point one minute ahead of the scheduled time. Unfortunately we arrived there one minute late.
I could not possibly climb to height without falling behind the bomber stream. I maintained our speed, but we could not gain much height at all.
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We went ahead and dropped our bombs on target and were immediately hit, I presumed, by flak. Two fires developed, one in the port wing outboard of the engines. The second one was in the starboard inner engine nacelle.
I gave the order, “Prepare to Abandon the Aircraft.” Then several things happened. My indicator light came on which tells me my wheels are down and locked. (I knew they were still up). Another light told me that I had the wrong supercharger gear on for landing. (Good, at 18 thousand feet I was not landing) Through my mind flashed the briefing we had before take off. The winds over the target are from 270 degrees. If we all bailed out, we would float right back into Cologne in our parachutes. I made a spur of the moment decision to blow up with the aircraft along with all my crew. We had it drilled into us that the maximum time we would have was 2 minutes, before the plane would blow up. Even today, I wonder how I could decide to kill all 7 of us. I guess it was the thought of floating back into Cologne in our parachutes.
Taffy Jones, my flight engineer, had clipped on his parachute in preparation for bailing out. He had the presence of mind to drag my one out from behind my seat and was holding it up for me to put on. You see, I was one of many pilots who did not have a pilot’s parachute. Instead, I had the same harness as all of my crew. This was clipped onto the chest when being used. Of course there was no room for me to wear mine, while I was flying the aircraft. I said to Taffy, “Just put it down there,” pointing to the floor beside my seat. Taffy told me, when we eventually landed, that when I said that, he was no longer afraid.” If he only knew!
Well the fires soon seemed to be dying down and both went out together. A pencil through the covers on my warning lights gave us darkness in the flight deck once again. However what would happen when I landed was anybody’s guess. Would my wheels lock down. I decided to head for our emergency landing field at Woodbridge. This had a runway three times wider than our normal airfields and it was much longer as well. It was also lit up like a Christmas tree. Two bright searchlights pointing up and converging welcomed aircraft that were in trouble. We could see these as we left the enemy coast. We were given permission to land. I instructed all my crew to take up crash positions as I made the approach, which they did. My wheels and flaps seemed to functioning normally, but we could not be sure. Then thankfully we made a perfectly normal landing. What a great relief!
Next morning my ground crew were flown in to examine the aircraft – C-Cameron. I never used the call sign C-Charlie. One of my ground crew decided to get up onto the wing. Hoe thought he saw something wrong from the ground. We watched as he reached down through a hole in the wing. He pulled out a live British incendiary bomb from one of our fuel tanks. We had not been hit by flak, but by incendiaries from a plane above us.
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D Day: June 5th/6th, 1944.
The Normandy Coastal Batteries
This day 1012 aircraft took part in raids on the costal batteries at Fontenay, Houlgate, La Pernelle, Longues, Maisy, Merville, Mont Fleury, Pointe-du-Hoe, Ouisterham and St-Martin-de-Varreville. 946 aircraft carried out their bombing tasks. Three aircraft were lost, 2 Halifaxes on the Mont Fleury raid, and 1 Lancaster on the Longues raid. Only two of the targets – La Pernelle and Ouisterham were free of cloud; all other bombing was based on Oboe marking. At least 5000 tons of bombs were dropped, the greatest tonnage in one night so far in the war.
Our target was the coastal batteries at Ouisterham. Although we took off in darkness this trip turned out to be our first daylight bombing. We did not use any different tactics which turned out to be a little bit scary. As we flew towards the target it began to get closer to daylight, I remember another plane from 115 Squadron came alongside me and we continued in a sort of loose formation towards the target. Others about us were doing the same, so that when we reached the target and tried to fly over the markers, we would have all collided. I was fortunate that I was able to drop my bombs on target, but there was no way that I could say my photograph would show this. As soon as the bombs were dropped, I climbed above the crowd to avoid collision with other planes.
I was due to go on leave on June 6th, but because of this trip, all leave had been cancelled. Mary and I had arranged to meet at Kings Cross Station in London, but instead I was on my way back across the Channel and into bed at Witchford. Fortunately I found someone trustworthy to waken me if leave was on again. As soon as he woke me, I was off to London. I was not too worried about Mary, as she knew where we had arranged to stay.
Instead, when Mary arrived at Kings Cross, she saw hundreds of service people but no Don. Somehow she saw this woman in air force officer uniform, but with a different cap to the WAAF of the RAF. She spoke to her and asked whether she were Miriam my sister. Of course she said yes, and that she was there to try to meet Mary. I had not been in touch with Miriam, but of course she knew of our arrangement to meet at Kings Cross. They spent most of the day together. Miriam took her to her office with the RCAF, and introduced her to some of the people she worked with.
Mary and I had a very happy week together. We stayed with Mrs. Clark who had a house in the Elephant and Castle area. We had a lucky escape with this leave. The night when I put Mary on the train for Aberdeen, while I made my way back to Witchford, the room we had slept in was demolished by a German bomb. I think it was one of their Doodle Bugs, the ones you could hear approaching and hoped would pass you before its engine stopped. Our room was upstairs. Fortunately Mrs. Clark lived one level below street level, but level with the back garden. She was not hurt, but had to be taken to a decontamination centre to get all the oil cleaned off. This was another of our narrow escapes during WW2.
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After D Day
June 14th, 1944. Le Havre. There were 221 Lancasters and 13 Mosquitos taking part in this raid. It was in two waves, one in daylight and the other later in the evening in darkness. We were in the second wave. The objectives were the fast German motor-torpedo boats (E-boats) and other light naval forces which were threatening Allied shipping off the Normandy beaches only 30 miles away. Both waves were escorted by Spitfires. 1230 tons of bombs were dropped including 22 Lancasters from 617 Squadron, each loaded with a 12000-lb. Tallboy bomb. The E-boat threat to the invasion beaches from this port was almost completely removed by this raid.
I reported no problems on this raid, but next morning, Chiefy Williams asked me what had happened. One of the propeller nacelles was bashed in, with the paint from a British bomb on the bashed part, another lucky escape that we were not even aware of at the time.
Including this raid on Le Havre, after D Day we did seven night bombing trips, mostly to railway marshalling yards. We also took part in 4 daylight raids, the last one on July 10th, completed our tour of operations. The final six or seven, although quite short trips were very worrying. We all felt that we could not possibly make it to the end of our 30 trips with 115 Squadron and the end of our tour of operations.
No. 3 Lancaster Finishing School.
RAF Station – Feltwell, etc.
After completing my bombing tour at Witchford I was sent to Feltwell. This was not far east of Ely. I was to be an instructor at this school. Crews came here after finishing their operational training, to get enough experience flying Lancasters before going to a bomber Squadron. I had to get experience in handling a Lancaster from a right hand seat, usually occupied by the flight engineer. They extended the connection of the wheel across from the regular control, for the instructor to use. The seat normally was fastened to the pilot’s seat and was clipped onto the right hand side of the aircraft when being used by a flight engineer. It was far from being comfortable. My complete training for this consisted of one afternoon, lasting 1 hour, 5 minutes. Now, I was an instructor.
Now that I was no longer flying with a bomber squadron, I found a room in a farmhouse about 5 miles from Feltwell in Methwold. This village consisted of 1 street, with 6 pubs. Our room had one 15 watt bulb for light. The floor slanted down from each side to a sort of trough along the middle. Mary came down from Aberdeen to stay with me. I told her that when I was finishing my flying for a day, I would fly over this house, and rev. up my engines, so that she would know I would be home shortly. This worked just fine until I once did an air test with another of the instructors. “Oh that’s where you live.” Mary never knew when I would be finishing. All my friends would rev their engines over the house.
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Mary, from about 500 miles north, could not understand the old man who owned the house. I, from 3000 miles away had to translate. The Norfolk dialect was really different to most English accents. His daughter and her husband kept house for him. They farmed a piece of land not attached to this property. The old man would sell her eggs from his chickens, as well as apples. In turn she would sell him any produce from their land. This was a new kind of family for us to experience. When we went on leave, to Aberdeen the old man would give Mary some apples. “Don’t tell Annie that I have given you these.” Annie had to buy her’s from him. What a way to live.
Some of the old Lancasters we flew at Fetwell were in very bad shape. Feltwell was not a paved airfield. We had to land on a grass landing strip. I had taken one crew to a bomber airfield for some experience. We were recalled because some fog was beginning to form at Feltwell. I took over the controls and flew back to base. They had lit some fire flares alongside the landing strip, but I had no difficulty in making my approach and landing. As I tried to turn the plane to starboard into where I was being guided, I could get no power from my port outer engine. I shouted to my guide to look at my port outer, as I could not get any power from it. He shone his light and yelled back that there was no engine there. It had dropped off as we landed. Years later I visited the aeronautical museum in Ottawa, with David, Patricia, Graeme and Heather. David and I were up looking into the cockpit of a Lancaster on exhibit there. Mary spoke to a man who was sitting on a bench looking at this Lancaster exhibit. Mary asked him if he had flown Lancasters. He said that no he had never flown, but he had worked as ground crew on them. He said that he had worked at No. 3 Lancaster Finishing School all the time it was in operation. I asked whether he had been there when the pilot of a plane that had just landed, asked the person directing the plane to shine a light on the port outer engine as he could get no power, and he said there was no engine there at all. He said yes, in fact he was the fellow who told me that there was no engine. What a small world. He belonged to an air force club in Oshawa and was very keen that I should join as well when he found that I lived in Scarborough. These clubs usually turn out to be just a drinking club, so I never did go near it.
After January 23rd, 1945, I was transferred to RAF Station Lindholme, near Doncaster in Yorkshire. This was a training station for Lancasters. We flew with crews who had not yet flown heavy bombers. They had a much more involved course of training.
I made a point of never looking at the students’ log books. I judged their flying ability from what they did for me. That was until I had one student, a flight lieutenant whom I thought was a danger to his crew. I looked in his log book and found that in his flying career he had never had less than, ‘Above Average’ in his records. I thought perhaps there was something wrong with me, so I asked the flight commander to take him up. He failed this man after a single trip and thanked me for letting him take him for a test.
On April 4th, 1945 I was sent on a flying instructors course at F.I.S. (Flying Instructors School) at Lulsgate Bottom, near Bristol, flying Airspeed Oxfords, where I did about 20 hours flying. This consisted of flying with only one
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engine, steep turns, really low flying, stalls, flapless landings, and forced landings (no power) – something called precautionary landings.
This turned out to be really great fun. I felt that this is how we should have been taught to fly Oxfords when I first started flying twin-engined planes. After this I became a category “C” instructor. While I was here, Miriam, my sister came from London to visit. We were able to take a tour through Cheddar Gorge and the cave. It was very interesting. The course lasted until May 4th, 1945, so of course Glen was born while I there. I was given 7 days leave to visit Mary and Glen in the Osborne Nursing Home in Aberdeen. They had to stay in the nursing home quite a long time because Mary developed a fever. They called it Milk Fever. She could not feed her baby, so he had to be brought up on National Dried Milk.
While on my way north I heard the announcement over the loud speakers at Crewe Station, that the war in Europe was finished.
Then it was more instructing at Lindholme for a short time. During this short time, I took some air cadets up for a trip in an Oxford.
I was still flying Lancasters as an instructor. However there was one interesting break. On July 6th, 1945 I took some passengers on what they termed a Cook’s Tour. The war in Europe had come to an end. My passengers were all service personnel from Lindholme. I took them across the North Sea to the Rhur in Germany, and we flew down over the Rhur to see what Bomber Command had done to German Industry there. In comparison, you would say that London, with it’s blitzes had hardly been scratched. It was absolute devastation.
On July 17th, 1945 I was sent to Bomber Command Instructors School at Finningly in Yorkshire. This is here I was paired with John Cooksey. Frankly, this is where I really learned how to fly a Lancaster. This even included how to land a Lancaster with no engines. Mind you, for safety’s sake the engines were left just idling, so that if I goofed we could soon have power. The instructor did the first no power landing and then asked me to try it. I came in with more speed than usual, thinking I was avoiding a stall. But when I leveled[sic] off for a landing I could not hold it down. It just ballooned up and I could do nothing about it. All he said was, “Do you know what you did wrong?” I of course said that I had approached too fast. He told me to try once more, and this time I had no problem.
John Cooksey and I got along together just fine. Neither one of us were really interested in becoming instructors. So I would put him through each exercise and he would do the same for me. If we did them OK and we did, we would spend the rest of the time exploring the countryside and coast around there. We were both upgraded to category “B” instructors. This is the highest anyone could be graded at this B.C.I.S.
I went back to Lindholme until I was sent to RAF Station, Snaith. This was a B.A.T. flight, where I was introduced to making a beam approach. The beam is a radio beam. On the beam we could hear a constant signal. If we
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were off to one side we heard the morse code for “A” on the other side it was the letter “N”. One was dot - dash. The other was dash - dot, so that when they came together you heard a constant sound. This was done with Oxfords and Link Trainers.
1332 HCU (Heavy Conversion Unit)
RAF Station Dishforth
In February 1946, I was posted to Dishforth, where I flew the Avro York. This was just until I was familiar with handling this aircraft.
Transport Command. 246 Squadron. Holmsley South.
On March 9th, they sent me to 246 Squadron at Holmsley South. I was now a F/Lt. (Flight Lieutenant) in Transport Command, with my new crew. For the first time in my flying career, I had eco-pilot, and a really good navigator. They made sure that I was familiar with such
[photograph]
My Transport Command Crew at Cairo (jack Easton, Geof Sames, Gordon Megson, Me, Johnie Ottewell) April 26th, 1946
things as 3 engine landings and overshoots, flawless landings, ground controlled approach. This also included a GEE let down for bad weather approach. Then finally on April 15th, I started my first overseas trip. My route was from base to Castel Benito in North Africa and on to Almaza at Cairo.
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Incidentally, my entire cargo was Sunday newspapers As we stopped at Castle Benito the ground crew were keen to get a copy of some. I told them not to meddle, but said I was off to see about my flight on to Cairo. They were pretty good; the cargo did not appear to be tampered with, but I am sure we had a few less papers. We staged at Cairo for two days, picking up the next plane to come from Britain. From there we flew to Shaibah at Basra. Then a long hop to Mauripur at Kirachi [sic]. Then another two day in Kirachi [sic]. Our next hop was supposed to be to Palam at Delhi, but we were asked to land at Jodhpur. This was my first experience of using a runway which was just a black strip of thick oil. Well I made quite a good approach to land right at the beginning of this strip, because it did not look to be very long. As I arrived over the
[photograph]
Almaza, Cairo June, 1946
hot black strip ready for a three point landing - the aircraft started to float upward with the very hot air rising from the runway. I was determined to get the plane down so I just waited until we stopped floating
up, then gave her lots of power as we started to fall. Hey, we made a nice safe landing after all, even if it was not too smooth. I was glad I had quite a bit of flying experience by this time.
On the way home from Delhi, we made the same stops, except for Jodhpur, but when flying on the final stretch across the Mediterranean, we had to call up the station at Istres in the south of France for permission to carry on, depending on the weather in England. We were asked to land, so we had an extra day on our trip.
My next trip was the same route, but straight from Kirachi [sic] to Delhi, no stop at Jodhpur. Again we were asked to stop at Istres on the way home.
No. 242 Squadron, Oakington
The next trip, we carried passengers, service personnel of course. This involved first flying from our base to Lyneham, which was an international base, complete with customs officers. We had seats fitted. They did not look too comfortable to me. We carried troops who were being sent to relieve some who were coming back to Britain. This trip was only to Cairo. On our return journey we were bringing one stretcher case, complete with a woman medical officer. The man had a brain tumour. One officer, a Naval Captain, which is a fairly high rank, did not turn up on time. Well I refused to hold up the trip for him, telling the staff that he could pick up
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his luggage at Lyneham. I felt that getting my stretcher case to hospital in Britain was more important. There were a few fighter pilots among my passengers too. When we landed at Castle Benito, the plane just rolled smoothly along the runway with no kind of any bump. This was a rare thing for an Avro York. They could not be landed without a bump of some sort. My air quarter master (Steward) bragged to these fighter guys that I did this all the time. I reminded him that I still had to land them at Lyneham. By this time I was sure that Istres always asked us to land no matter what the British weather conditions before leaving Castle Benito. Sure enough, they asked us to land. However I told them that I was carrying an urgent Stretcher case and wanted to get him to a hospital as soon as possible. They did not hesitate to allow me to proceed. I realised that I had made one goof. The troops were all wearing tropical dress and wanted to change, but did not wish to embarrass the woman medical officer. I brought her up front with me and had told her that she could hear the various info. I received as we flew. When I pushed for not landing at Istres, she told me not to fly on if the weather was bad. The invalid was not that urgent. I had to tell her that there would be layers of cloud when we got there and maybe a bit of drizzle, but nothing to make it a dangerous landing. Actually we didn’t even have the drizzle, but did I ever bounce in on my landing.
Then I was sent with another crew to get some route experience for a trip to Singapore. F/Lt. Audis was the pilot. Well, after we left Basra and were flying down the Persian Gulf, I went back to have a rest. I don’t think I was really asleep, but suddenly I became aware that something was wrong. Even though the aircraft was cruising OK, I went up front and asked what the trouble was. Well the port outer engine was not functioning, something wrong with the supercharger. The pilot had decided to fly lower, so that he could see more closely things at ground level. However at the bottom of the gulf, we would have to climb to over ten thousand feet to get over some hills, before flying along to Kirachi [sic] over the sea. He got permission to land at Sharjah, where we would wait until a replacement engine could be flown to us. We were there from August 19th. to September 1st. Strangely enough a friend from my days on bombers flew the engine to us in a DC3 (Dakota).
Apart from one more flight along with another pilot, just doing an air test, that was my last flight with the RAF. I had flown total of 1201 hrs 50 min.
My flying with British Overseas Airways Corporation
While at Aldermaston, back at school, in training for my various licences, I flew once with Captain Green on an air test in a Viking aircraft , just for 1 Hr 20 min. This was strictly off the record and is not included in my log book. I also went up for an air test in a Dakota with Capt. Levy. This lasted !hr. 30mn. As we approached for a landing he suggested that I try the landing. I didn’t even know the speed to make the approach at. He told me the speed and said to go ahead. I would find that it would pretty well land itself. So I did land it and with a nice smooth landing.
I had to do some flying in the York again, which included landing fully loaded. I was sent on a cross country
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flight with another First Officer, F/O Clink. However I was to be in charge. We had all sorts of different personnel on board. They came and asked if I was ready for dinner. As I was in charge, I was to them Captain. Well you have no idea of the fancy treatment I was given. Of course the stewards were also in training and were being watched. I have never been so handsomely treated to a meal before or since.
When I was fully qualified I was sent to Turn, near Bournemouth.
My first trip as First Officer started on November 23rd, 1947. Captain Phillips was in charge. We flew to London. On the 24th our route was first to Bordeaux and then to Castel Benito, then on to Lydda. This was a staging Post for the crew. The plane flew on with a different crew. On November 28th we took over a different plane on to Basra and Kirachi [sic]. On November 30th we were off again, this time with a Cast. Maltin. We flew to Dharan at Delhi. When we took off from Delhi, as we were gaining speed for take off, Capt. Maltin suddenly shut the throttles right down and exclaimed, “Holy cow!” This surprised me to hear him say a thing like this, but when I looked to see the problem, there was a cow strolling slowly across the runway. I laughed and said to him, “I have never heard that expression used correctly before.” Captain Maltin flew us as far as Lydda on the way home. We found ourselves as supernumerary crew. In other words there were two crews, but only one plane, so we flew on in the same plane, but with a different crew. That saved us a day, as we stayed with the plane right through to Castle Benito, but were delayed a day, I think by a sandstorm before returning to base.
The next flight started on December 24th, 1947. We had two children by this time, so Christmas arrived a wee bit early, but, neither Glen or Patricia were aware of that.
The name of the plane was Macduff. G-AGOF. We flew to London late on the 24th. Our take off was on the 25th. None of us in the crew were happy about this. Neither were most of the passengers. Captain Kelly came aboard and looked around at the long faces, and asked the steward if we had Christmas Crackers on board. We did, so he asked that a cracker be given to every passenger and every crew member. There was a tiny decorated tree just at the entrance, which on the York was mid-way up the passenger cabin. When we all had our crackers Captain Kelly said, “Now all of you pull your crackers and put on the paper hat.” That broke the ice and we had a great trip after that. We made landings at Bordeaux for lunch (Christmas Dinner), then on to Castel Benito and Cairo.
Both passengers and crew had an overnight stop in Cairo. Then in early morning we flew down to Khartoum. A lovely breakfast was waiting for us in Khartoum.
As we flew south from Khartoum, Captain Kelly asked me to go back into the passengers to point out any wild game. He purposely flew fairly low and I pointed out large animals like giraffe and elephant and such like. Two little girls, about nine or ten years old, latched onto me at this time. They had a great time as I showed them quite a few animals on the ground.
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As for me, I was very interested in not only seeing all this wild game, but also we flew low over the Murchison Falls on this branch of the Nile River.
We arrived in Nairobi on December 27th and were treated once again to another Christmas Dinner. I am afraid the two little girls ended up sitting on my knees, one on each knee. This was hardly airline etiquette, but by this time passengers and crew were just like one huge family. When we finally returned to base, we received no less than 5 letters, commending the crew for a great trip. Most were being sent out from England on a scheme to grow ground nuts (peanuts), which turned out to be a complete flop in the end. None were very happy about going.
After Nairobi we flew past Kilimanjaro, quite a nice sight to Mombasa, on the coast of the Indian Ocean. Then we headed south over Zanzibar to Dar es Salaam in Tanzania. This was our final destination and my first crossing of the equator. There were no celebrations on board.
Our return trip was still in the Macduff as far as Cairo. Then we staged, flying on December 31st in a York called Marston, G-AGSO. Between Cairo and Tunisia Captain Kelly gathered the whole crew up front. The radio was tuned to the BBC in London, and as the new year came in we had a bit of a celebration. We were unable to land in London because of fog and were diverted to our base at Hurn. Here was still a lot of cloud below us, but I suddenly spotted our base and gave Cpt. Kelly a nudge. He was determined to land at base, but the passengers must have wondered what was happening. To say the least it was not a normal approach, although to us up front it was certainly not dangerous. So we came to the end of one of my most enjoyable trips.
On January 22nd 1948, I did the same route again with Captain Bennett. Then my final trip was to India once again with Captain Buxton. This time we went one more stop after Delhi, to Calcutta.
I am not sure which of these trips this incident happened, but on one of our stopovers in Cairo, we arranged with a local man to take us from the Bentley Hotel (I think that was the name) to the Pyramids and Sphinx, with a tour up inside the Great Pyramid. We would pay him for the entire trip. We settled on a price. Everything went very well. I opted to ride an Arabian horse instead of one of their moth-eaten camels. All went very well including the climb up inside the pyramid, until nearly down inside. Then this guide decided he would like a bit more money. If we wouldn’t give him this he would leave us in the dark. He had been lighting our way with magnesium strips. Needless to say the poor guy was completely surrounded by us, and told he had better not try any tricks like that. I think he thought we would take the magnesium and leave him behind, but anyway we got out okay.
By this time, my left eye had really started to go blind. I realised that I could not renew my licence and so resigned from BOAC.
My total flying time, including air force and civilian was 1455 hrs 55min.
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[medals and other insignia photographed on a black background]
[top] [RAF wings]
[1st row L to R] [1939-45 Star; Air Crew Europe Star; 1939-45 Defence Medal; 1939-45 War Medal]
[2nd row] [Bomber Command Tribute 1939 – 1945]
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Campaign Stars, Clasps and Medals
instituted in recognition of service
in the war of 1939 – 45
[list of awards]
[award certificate for those who served in Bomber Command 1939 – 45]
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[italics] Donald Cameron World War II and Flying Memoirs [/italics]
[bold] Footnote to My Flying [/bold]
Mary and I were at our trailer up near Norland, when we received a phone call from our daughter, Patricia. She asked us what we would be doing on August 19th 2000. I looked at our calendar and told her that we had tickets for the theatre in Lindsay. We were going with some friends.
Well we were told to cancel these arrangements. Our three children had combined to give me a trip up in the Lancaster at the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum in Hamilton. They had joined to purchase membership in this museum for me ($75). As well, they paid $1000 for a flight of about 45 minutes in the Lancaster. It was a real thrill to be back in a Lancaster once again.
[colour photo of man and woman in front of a stationary Lancaster]
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[photograph of Donald Cameron wearing his war medals]
[article from the ‘News Advertiser’ dated 3rd September 2000, including photograph of Donald Cameron in front of a Lancaster aircraft]
High times for veteran flyer
Second World War pilot revisits his glory days
By Jane McDonald staff writer
When Don Cameron headed towards a certain aircraft on a sunny Saturday, Aug. 19, it was as though 55 years suddenly melted away.
“He strutted over that tarmac like a 20 years old,” says Pat Boocock of Ajax, the 53-year-old daughter of Mr Cameron who, with her two brothers arranged for her father to fly once again in a famous Second World War Lancaster. Mr Cameron wasn’t quite 20 years old when he joined the Royal Air Force in 1941. Originally from Toronto, he’d gone to Scotland in 1938 to study at an agricultural college. After war broke out the following year, he tried to join the air force when he reached the age of conscription.
“They told me, ‘No, you’re not a resident’” recalls the almost 79-year-old Whitby man. He joined anyway as a volunteer and headed for the southern United States to train as a pilot. And although he qualified as a fighter pilot, by the time he got back to England, he was posted to 115 Squadron, part of the RAF’s No. 3 Group Witchford. This meant flying multi-engine aircraft like the Wellington and Stirling. But his favourite by far was the Lancaster. Mr Cameron remembers, with the help of his log book, his first operational trip to Berlin when he piloted a Lancaster, the heavy four-engine bomber, many of which were built at Victory Aircraft, the Canadian Crown corporation at Malton, Ont.
[photograph with caption “Don Cameron still hadn’t come back to earth after flying in a Lancaster bomber, the same plane he flew as a pilot with the Royal Air Force during the Second World War. He went up on Aug. 19.]
“I flew five different (Lancaster) planes,” says Mr. Cameron of his time on operational missions. “Then somebody would take one up (when he was off duty) and not come back.” He had his own close calls like a particularly ‘nasty trip’ he made to Cologne, the city in northern Germany on the Rhine River, when his plane had two fires burning as he struggled to get his crew back to England.
“Cologne was the scariest,” he admits. It turned out to be British incendiaries that landed on us. We were coming out of Cologne and I gave orders to prepare to abandon the aircraft. Then the whole (pre-flight) briefing came back to me … I realized then that it would be better to blow up there than bail out and drift back into Cologne. That decision saved our lives.” Another time, after landing successfully on a grassy strip, Flight Lieutenant Cameron asked a ground crew member to shine his light on the port outer engine which he thought might have something wrong with it. “There is no engine,” answered the man.
But the plane he went up in Aug. 19 had all four engines. Lovingly refurbished by a dedicated group of volunteers, the pride of the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum at Mount Hope Airport in Hamilton is the only airworthy Lancaster in Canada.
“I just heard about it on the radio three or four years ago,” says Mrs. Boocock. “I tucked it away in my mind but when my father started having heart problems, I thought we’d better do it soon.” She contacted the museum and was told her father could go up in its Lancaster for a ‘donation’. She and her two brothers came up with $1,000, which she says will be their father’s “birthday and Christmas” gift.
Mr. Cameron says he found the flight to be “quite similar” in many respects. “The only thing missing was the piece of armour plating that used to be behind my (the pilot’s) head,” he adds of the 45 minute flight that took him over Niagara Falls. And although it was “bumpy”, there was no need to worry about anti-aircraft flak hitting this Lancaster. One night in 1944, his plane came back from a sortie with 47 holes in it and he lost an eye after the war as a result.
“I really haven’t come down to earth yet,” says the happy and grateful family man. “It’s something I just never expected.”
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
World War II & Flying Memoirs
Description
An account of the resource
Writes of travelling to Scotland before start of the war and then joining the RAF Volunteer Reserve. Continues with account of training in England before going to Lakeland Florida for primary flying training, Cochran field for basic and advanced training on Harvard at Napier Field, Dothan Alabama. Continues training on return to United Kingdom at RAF Windrush flying Oxford. After getting married continues training at RAF Wing on Wellington and then on to RAF Silverstone and Wratting Common on Stirling followed by Waterbeach for Lancaster. Continues with account of first operation over Germany while still training at Wing on 4 Oct 1943. He then went to 115 Squadron at RAF Whitchford. He continues with accounts of first operation on 115 Squadron flowed by detailed accounts of operations in February and March 1944. Mentions that he was commissioned and then describes further operations to Germany and in support of D-Day operations and afterwards. Concludes with description of activities as an instructor at RAF Feltwell.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
D Cameron
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Lincolnshire
England--Sussex
England--Brighton
England--Buckinghamshire
England--High Wycombe
United States
Florida--Lakeland
Georgia--Macon
Alabama--Dothan
England--Gloucestershire
England--Buckinghamshire
England--Suffolk
England--Northamptonshire
England--Cambridgeshire
Germany
Germany--Schweinfurt
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Duisburg
France
France--Normandy
England--Norfolk
France--Le Havre
Florida
Alabama
Georgia
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942-03-23
1942-05-10
1942-08-11
1943-05-21
1944-01-05
1944-01-25
1943-10-04
1944-01-30
1944-02-15
1944-02-24
1944-02-25
1944-04-14
1944-06-05
1944-06-06
1944-06-14
1944-06-15
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Thirty-eight page printed document with b/w and colour photographs
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
BCameronDCameronDv1
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
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
David Bloomfield
115 Squadron
1651 HCU
1678 HCU
17 OTU
26 OTU
aircrew
bomb struck
bombing
bombing of the Le Havre E-boat pens (14/15 June 1944)
bombing of the Normandy coastal batteries (5/6 June 1944)
Cook’s tour
crash
Flying Training School
Gee
Harvard
Heavy Conversion Unit
incendiary device
Initial Training Wing
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
Lancaster Mk 2
love and romance
Me 110
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
pilot
promotion
RAF Dishforth
RAF Feltwell
RAF Hemswell
RAF Lindholme
RAF Silverstone
RAF Waterbeach
RAF Windrush
RAF Wing
RAF Witchford
RAF Wratting Common
searchlight
Stearman
Stirling
Tiger Moth
training
Wellington
Window
York
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1411/26583/LHaddowEJ1623118v1.2.pdf
a133913f143d91583b7c3c80592bdf97
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
Thomson, Thomas
T Thomson
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-03-03
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. Some items have not been published in order to protect the privacy of third parties, to comply with intellectual property regulations, or have been assessed as medium or low priority according to the IBCC Digital Archive collection policy and will therefore be published at a later stage. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collection-policy.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Thomson, T
Description
An account of the resource
18 items. The collection concerns Flight Sergeant Thomas Thomson (1919 - 1991, 1366937 Royal Air Force) He flew operations as a wireless operator with 49 Squadron. It contains photographs, documents, a brief biography and a copy of E J Haddow's log book.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Suzanne Fletcher 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
E J Haddow’s navigator’s air bomber’s and air gunner’s flying log book
Description
An account of the resource
Navigator’s air bomber’s and air gunner’s flying log book for E J Haddow covering the period from 28 November 1943 to 26 September 1945. Detailing his flying training, operations flown and instructor duties. He was stationed at RAF Wratting Common, RAF Waterbeach, RAF Witchford, RAF Talbenny. RAF Silverstone and RAF Dunkeswell. Aircraft flown in were Stirling, Lancaster, Wellington and Warwick. He flew a total of 28 operations with 115 squadron, 1 daylight and 27 night. Targets were Leipzig, Stuttgart, Le Mans, Frankfurt, Berlin, Nuremberg, Laon, Rouen, Cologne, Dusseldorf, Karlsruhe, Essen, Friedrichshafen, Cap Gris Nez, Courtrai, Duisburg, Dortmund, Trappes, Calais, Caen, Lisieux, Gelsenkirchen, Le Havre, Valenciennes, Mont Didier and Domleger. His pilot on operations was Warrant Officer Hemming.
This item was sent to the IBCC Digital Archive already in digital form. No better quality copies are available.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Format
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One photocopied 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
LHaddowEJ1623118v1
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
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Mike Connock
Mike French
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Belgium
France
Germany
Great Britain
Atlantic Ocean--English Channel
Belgium--Kortrijk
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Devon
England--Northamptonshire
England--Suffolk
France--Domléger-Longvillers
France--Caen
France--Calais
France--Île-de-France
France--Laon
France--Le Havre
France--Le Mans
France--Lisieux
France--Montdidier (Hauts-de-France)
France--Pas-de-Calais
France--Rouen
France--Valenciennes
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Essen
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Friedrichshafen
Germany--Gelsenkirchen
Germany--Karlsruhe
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Nuremberg
Germany--Stuttgart
Wales--Pembrokeshire
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
France--Cap Gris Nez
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943
1944
1945
1944-02-19
1944-02-20
1944-03-01
1944-03-02
1944-03-07
1944-03-08
1944-03-15
1944-03-16
1944-03-22
1944-03-23
1944-03-24
1944-03-25
1944-03-30
1944-03-31
1944-04-11
1944-04-18
1944-04-19
1944-04-20
1944-04-21
1944-04-22
1944-04-23
1944-04-24
1944-04-26
1944-04-27
1944-04-28
1944-05-10
1944-05-11
1944-05-19
1944-05-20
1944-05-21
1944-05-22
1944-05-23
1944-05-31
1944-06-01
1944-06-04
1944-06-06
1944-06-07
1944-06-12
1944-06-13
1944-06-14
1944-06-15
1944-06-16
1944-06-18
1944-06-21
115 Squadron
1651 HCU
1678 HCU
17 OTU
aircrew
bombing
bombing of Nuremberg (30 / 31 March 1944)
bombing of the Le Havre E-boat pens (14/15 June 1944)
flight engineer
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
RAF Dunkeswell
RAF Silverstone
RAF Talbenny
RAF Waterbeach
RAF Witchford
RAF Wratting Common
Stirling
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/834/18899/YGeachDG1394781v5.2.pdf
10162827a32d552c966e4454065fa9f0
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
Geach, David
D Geach
Description
An account of the resource
<a href="https://losses.internationalbcc.co.uk/loss/218400/"></a>52 items. The collection concerns Warrant Officer David Geach (1394781 Royal Air Force) and contains his diaries, correspondence, photographs of his crew, his log book, cuttings and items relating to being a prisoner of war. After training in Canada, he flew operations as a bomb aimer with 623 and 115 Squadrons until he was shot down 24 March 1944 and became a prisoner of war. He was instrumental in erecting a memorial plaque to the Air Crew Reception Centre at Lord’s Cricket Ground in London. <br />The collection also contains a scrap book of photographs.<br /><br />Additional information on his crew is available via the <a href="https://losses.internationalbcc.co.uk/loss/218400/">IBCC Losses Database.</a><br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Harry Wilkins and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-03-14
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Geach, DG
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[blank page]
[page break]
GOVERNMENT OF CANADA
NO. 288
[page break]
[underlined] Wednesday 17th March. [/underlined]
Back in England again, gee! its great to be home, I don’t know how fellows must feel being overseas 10 years or so, 8 months was enough to make me feel really thrilled at the sight of old England again. Beg pardon! I should have said Scotland, for it was up the firth of Clyde we slipped and anchored off Greenock. It was a nice morning & the fields & hills looked really pleasant in the sunshine. As we slid along we were shot up by Hurricanes and Martletts from the Auxiliary Aircraft Carriers. There were quite a few of the latter, converted merchant men turned into A.C. Carriers, quite large some of them. Beside this, the usual swarm of naval craft lay around. Destroyers, & corvettes slipped past, & occasionally the sleek black hulk of a submarine would slide along; in the distance. There was a Catalina station, with quite an amount of activity going on. One of the “Cats” landed quite close to us in a flurry of foam, nice looking jobs! We anchored just by three aircraft carriers & the modern battleship Howe, there was quite an amount of Aldis flashing, but far beyond our limited 8’s. I was glad I was on guard as I had a fine view, whilst all the others weren’t allowed up on deck.
[page break]
We docked on the 15th about 3 pm and it was 24 hrs. before we got off her. Being as there were no large docks as at Boston & New York everyone had to be taken off in lighters, & there were a good few thousand to go ashore. The lighters seemed like little toys alongside the Queen Elizabeth, although in reality they were quite large two funnelled vessels. Pumping oil in was a large tanker she really was a size, a smart looking American ship, with the T of the Texaco Oil Coy. on her funnel covered by the grey war paint. We struggled into the boat in full webbing lugging the kit bag, that everyone had crammed with cigarettes, chocolates, cosmetics, & heaven knows how many with stockings, for everyone at home. Quite a delay ensued before the lighter was packed to capacity, then away she went. My God as we passed alongside the Q.E. we could get an idea of her size, she was immense. As we drew further away, & saw the cluster of ships around her, dwarfed to doll size, looking like a duck with a swarm of ducklings we realised what a prize it would make for Jerry U Boats. No wonder they had claimed to have sank her, that made us laugh when we were on it. She really had a rakish cut, though, and as we neared the dockside, gazing back through the [deleted] Deff [/deleted] half mist, I was glad I had had the opportunity of travelling on the two largest ships afloat.
[page break]
On the dockside we had the inevitable hours wait with packs, full webbing on, but being as it was our priviledge [sic] to moan we indulged in it to the full, & were cheered by it. The troop trains were drawing away and at last our turn came. Comfortable seats were taken, our mass of webbing crowded everything out of the way but nobody worried away we [deleted] wend [/deleted] went, into a lovely drizzling evening, it may sound dim, but were we glad to see the rain again, after months of continuous snow without a drop of rain. It must have appeared depressing to the Canadians, raining on their arrival, bearing out tales of the island when it always rains, that they had heard, but to us it was home & heaven. Everyone waved out of windows & from streets as we slid along, everything was so friendly. Some of the fellows tackled the canned rations they had of Beans & Hash etc. but I stuck to the Biscuit & Sweet ones. Into Glasgow we rattled, onto Edinburgh when the NAAFI gave us tea on the platform, & so to Harrogate. Here we were assembled in the [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] dim light & pushed into lorries & away we went to Pannel Ash, three miles out of Harrogate to a large school. Here we whizzed around getting bedding & filling forms and having an eagerly awaited breakfast. However I am getting tired so I’ll continue in my next entry.
[page break]
[underlined] Sunday 21st March [/underlined]
As I said we arrived here at Pannel Ash, about 5.30 AM. on the 17th & they told us to be on parade at 8 A.M. to start the whirl of kitting, form filling and heaven knows what else before we went on leave. It sounded a line of bull to us, but the magical word leave was enough to keep us moving. We rapidly discovered that there were two of the biggest b-s I have seen here, & the two most influential. No 1 the C.O. and No 2 the W.O. I can truthfully say the C.O. or Sqdn/Ldr was the most illiterate fellow I have ever seen holding a commission. They say [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] he was an N.C.O. pre-war & just got a lucky push. The W.O. vies with him for our hatred, he is a fat red faced guy & a real nasty piece, just loves to catch one of us N.C.O’s with something wrong. It is something like a Gestapo purge, they are [deleted] [indecipherable letter] [/deleted] possessed with the idea, that because we have come back from overseas we are no longer fit for aircrew, are a pack of scare-crows, are unruly & undisciplined etc. etc. Admittedly the Guards could give us a few points on smartness but hell! we haven’t had time to get back into the rut of drill again. Our job doesn’t depend on whether we can drill smartly either, a point which they always try to hammer in.
[page break]
We have whizzed about filling in reams of forms, kitting up to the English scale once more, this was a scream Some of the fellows had thrown away nearly all their service kit in order to make room for their presents, & they certainly had some 664B action. When they can’t think of anything for us to do, we drill, with the C.O. binding continually. The latest purge is haircuts, & as mine hasn’t been trimmed for about 6 – 7 weeks I’m right in the line of fire, guess I’ll need a lawn mower on my mop. On the evenings that we can get away we generally walk into town to see a show, the trouble with this town is it is [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] lousy with aircrew. When we first arrived we were so tired that we got some bed hours in, & wrote letters with the old 2 1/2' stamp on again. It was quite good to write a letter, & in a couple of days get a reply come buzzing back. The family & Mary had a surprise as they didn’t think I would be home for a couple of days, Mary is trying to get leave at the same time as myself. We should be going on leave pretty soon now, yippee! will we hit the high spots, & guess I’ll be glad to hand over their presents after lugging them quarter way round the world & guarding them, ah! well it wont [sic] be long now.
[page break]
[underlined] Thursday April 8th [/underlined]
Time certainly has flown by, but in a glorious fashion, since I made my last [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] entry. In the last couple of days we got packed, stowed our flying kit, & personal kit in the in the cellars & were all ready to move. The great day was Wednesday the 24th. and the coaches came to take us to the station. All the A.G.’s had gone a couple of days before, but only for 7 days, as they needed them, I felt sorry for them as we were all getting 14. After some waiting the train drew in, & we piled in heartily, it was well organised, all the London fellows were in one train those going South, Portsmouth etc in another, & Midlands & North a third. We got a good seat & old Fred Porce was opposite me so we arranged to travel on the Met to Plaistow together. On the journey we dozed & ate a little of the rations, & thought & made plans of what we would do on leave, then finally we drew into London, bang on! Fred had a monster kit bag crammed with tinned goods, & it certainly was a weight, we both had to drag it along to get on the Met. Sinking into a seat, not daring to remove our packs, for fear we wouldn’t get them on again, we soon became wedged, & I had the devils
[page break]
own job to struggle out, when we reached my station. It was really great to get home again, there was a great welcome, everyone saying things together & I know, I forgot lots of the things I wanted to tell them. Mary & my sister certainly were enthusiastic over the cosmetics, most probably be run in for hoarding.
Leave time as usual simply whirled by, shows & films, different people to see, & places to go. I saw Frank Pritchards mother, apparently I just missed him at Greenock, he went back on the Queen Elizabeth, they must have embarked the morning after we disembarked. Life always seems to be like that just missing people, well, I hope he likes Canada, one thing he won’t get the hellish winter conditions I had. I could kick myself missing the mildest winter England had for 17 years, & catching the coldest Canada had for 19 years. Anyway time flew, & yesterday it was time for me to return, they ran a special train for us, good show, & at 5 PM I met Norman & all the boys, & back we travelled swapping stories of leave. Harrogate once more, & in the Grand Hotel, where we were billeted when we arrived from Hastings, & so here I am.
[page break]
[underlined] Wednesday 14th April [/underlined]
We are ‘squaddied’ now, (placed in a squad) and waiting for the lectures to commence. Still the memories of our leave keep coming back to torture us, in heaven knows when we will be home again. Won’t be till after O.T.U. I’d wager, some fellows say we get some after AFU but I doubt it. Most of the fellows here whilst they are waiting for a posting are sent to Whitley Bay on a 4 week Commands Course with the RAF Regiment, I don’t quite know whether I relish the idea or not. The first few days we were back we didn’t do anything merely route marches, occasionally if we had a decent fellow in charge we would lay down in a field for the afternoon, but that wasn’t often. That state of affairs rarely lasts long however & we were soon put in a squad and commenced lectures. These are held at the Majestic Hotel, & we parade and march there each morning and afternoon. The lectures themselves are the same as they are anywhere the inevitable Signals, Armaments, Aircraft Rec, & Bombing Theory, they certainly cheese us, & I have a hell of a job to keep awake.
[page break]
There is quite a bit of P.T. as well, & we always have to run up to the Crag or thereabouts then turn off, for a general town of Yorkshire, around 5 miles or so. A fellow who was already in our room when we arrived, (a pilot on singles) is on the permanent P.T. squad, this is a hell of a racket. You are put on this when you have finished all the lectures. They parade in the morning in P.T. kit, or more often than not trousers, vest & jacket, then after roll call, go for a run by themselves to the Cing Café & sit there gazing at the view, & eating scones & supping tea till nearly dinner time, then they trot back for their midday meal. In the afternoon they repeat the process, maybe add a game of football, if they feel energetic, always ensuring that they finish in plenty of time for an early tea, & a quick get away to the cinema. Still you can’t blame them, they’ve been here nearly four months & I’d be really fed up.
Looking around at the thousands of aircrew here, & hearing of the thousands of Canadians & Australians at Bournemouth it amazes me. All these aircrew hanging around waiting to get onto operations and they can’t, & it goes right to the
[page break]
bottom of the ladder, to the fellow just joining up for aircrew who has to wait nearly a year after he has been accepted, to get into the RAF. If only we could clear the bottlenecks & get all these fellows on ops’ what a mighty bomber fleet we should have. Surely it isn’t the shortage of aircraft, we should be turning out enough by now. It must be a bottleneck at O.T.U. & AFU & not enough to cope with the flow of crews, or the most likely explanation they have been piling up here, owing to there being limited flying during the winter. I daresay there will always be the same situation here, though. As for myself I’m quite content, we have a decent room, Norman, Henry, Jack, & Ron & myself all together. There’s a wash basin in the room & a bath room next door, which is good. The food isn’t bad either, it is a rush for meals now that we are on [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] lectures. There isn’t much to do in town but go to the cinema I have been six nights running, but there’s nothing else available. One thing about coming in at night the lights are switched off at 10.30 PM by a master control, so we always creep in, in the dark, stumbling over things. Rumours of leave here are as prevalent here as at any other posting centre, but after a while we discredit them all.
[page break]
[underlined] Wednesday April 21st [/underlined]
Norman, Harry & myself are still here, but Ron & Jack are at Whitley Bay now, getting that cave man complex on the North Sea now. The went off in the traditional RAF style full webbing etc, & kidding us about our getting posted up there when they had nearly finished. Us not to be outdone assuring them, that there was an AFU posting on the way & they were merely clearing the dim ones out. I wouldn’t mind betting we’re “joes” though & get sent up there shortly. In the meantime we are just continuing with lectures, we have had one period of wet dinghy drill. We went in the swimming baths, belonging to a school, now occupied by the Civil Service. Being as the changing accommodation in the boxes is inadequate a lot of fellows changed on the spectators seats at the far end. There are a lot of full length windows, & as the boys changed & stood there in the altogether, quite a lot of the female Civil Servants opposite found a sudden lack of interest in their work. We have to don full flying kit and Mae Wests, & as a crew jump in & swim to the dinghy & climb in. It wasn’t so bad in the water, but when one went to climb into the dinghy, their weight
[page break]
soaked, with water, became apparent, & it really was a struggle to get aboard.
I have been with Norman to visit his Aunt & Uncle living here. His Uncle is in the Civil Service & took us to their club they have on the Ground Floor of a Hotel. Its a nice place with refreshment bar, dance hall, games & card rooms, we went to a nice dance there the other day. It is so nice to meet someone like that, because Harrogate is a hell of a place if one knows nobody. Being as it is crammed full of aircrew & soldiers, every place of entertainment is bound to be packed. There is nowhere to go but the cinemas really cos the dances are pretty dear. Most probably with the idea of keeping the services away, because the citizens really resent the troops being here, & hate the war being forced on them. It really is a “Forget the War”, town. The solitary Y.M.C.A. & a couple of small Forces Canteens do sterling service, but are overwhelmed & can’t cater for all their customers This leaves the troops at the mercy of the money grabbing café owners. The Copper Kettle being one, 2 small sausages & a few chips being 3/6’, out of an ordinary soldiers 2/6 a day its not even funny. Yes this town certainly wants re-organising & a few of the rackets squashed.
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[underlined] Tuesday 27th April [/underlined].
We are on the point of recommencing our flying in England we have arrived at our Advanced Flying Unit, at Bobbington near Stourbridge. So we did steal a march on Ron & Jack after all, I bet they are annoyed about it, but still most probably they will be posted soon. They called us all out together all our little clique, & when they said Bobbington we jumped for joy as most of us are Southerners and didn’t fancy going up North again. There was quite a dash around & quite a bit of bull with kit inspections & parades, clothing parades, & Heaven knows what else. Bags of waiting around & queuing as usual, arguing and scrambling for different things. At last all was done & our kit was left downstairs in the lobby ready to go next morning. We went out in the town to have a last night celebration, I am a bit sorry now that I have left there, as it was pretty good there, and I had some decent times with Norman’s Uncle & Aunt. Still there it is the training system doesn’t worry about individuals, & it is the only way I guess. Anyway after that last night we staggered in rather merry & noisy stumbling through the pitch black corridors of the hotel.
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Up the next morning bright and early, early anyway I dunno so much about the bright. With bull to the last we had to parade in full webbing and march to the station. We got fixed up on the train O.K. & commenced our first stage of the journey to Leeds. It was crazy weather, raining like anything, when we arrived at Leeds we were going to have a stroll around but the weather deterred us. The train to Birmingham was crowded & although we had a carriage reserved, bags of civilians crowded in & as there were elderly women & women with babies, we gave them the seats, but boy! was it a squash. At Birmingham we darted around unloading the kit & dashing over to another platform to catch the Wolverhampton train. We were beginning to look like porters after lumping the kit around all the time. The train had to wait a few minutes until we had loaded everything, the guard was a bit peeved but there was nothing he could do. Off we bowled and then found we had left Norman behind, nothing could be done then so on we went. At Wolverhampton there was a lorry waiting so we loaded it all on & climbed on the kit. We were rather shaken by the distance we were from the town through miles of country lanes until we finally arrived here.
They say that first impressions are often misleading, & I hope so, because our first impressions of this place is that it is a bloody awful station. We are in a damp Nissen hut with a concrete floor, that clouds of white dust rise from on the slightest stir of anything. Being ‘pupils’ as we are termed we aren’t allowed to eat in the sergeants mess, they say it isn’t large enough. We may go into there for letter writing etc. after 5.30 P.M Our meals are in the airmen’s mess, and we queue up amongst all the a.c’s and it is no exaggeration that we get less food than them. I have experienced it many a time the WAAF has given the fellow in front a ladle full, & had one ready for the next chap. Then looking up & seeing they are aircrew they tip half of it back. The mess is terrible and so is the food. All this we have found out in our few hours of being here, tomorrow we start the course. Our ablutions is a place not finished, no bowls or mirrors, just a line of taps containing freezing cold water – grim isn’t the word for it. By all accounts aircrew are disliked on this station by all & sundry from the Groupy downwards, we meet him tomorrow. – Norman has just rolled in he followed on the next train, had quite a shock when he found we had gone.
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[underlined] Sunday May 2nd. [/underlined]
We have been here long enough to dislike the place entirely, & the sooner we leave here the better for all of us. On our first day we met the W/O in charge of the school, Alves his name is, & we didn’t take much of a liking to him. He gave us quite a few warnings with a long list of “Donts”, [sic] & impressed upon us how the “Groupy” disliked aircrew and was always ready to catch them out, then he marched us off to see the big noise himself. All the time he was marching us along in threes he was binding “Stop that talking”, and “Swing those arms”, just like the old I.T.W. back again, it gets a bit cheesing at this stage. We had the ‘welcome’ address in the station cinema a rather bare place that is still undergoing completion. The Groupy bore out all the stories we had heard about him, a rather mean faced individual. During the talk he broke off three times to tear a strip off a poor M.T. driver who had the misfortune to be starting his lorry & drowning the old man’s voice, what a type. Quite a lot of his talk was devoted to the subject of WAAF’s we weren’t to go around with them or associate to any given extent, & if he caught anyone near the WAAF site it would be too bad. Anyone would think it was a convent here, still from what I’ve seen of the WAAFs here, I can’t see anyone wanting to associate with them.
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Our day is quite a long one here, we rise & have our icy wash then dash over to the airmen’s mess to queue for our “breakfast”. Back to the hut to dash around making up our beds & sweeping the floors, then on parade at the unearthly hour of 7.45 A.M. Even at I.T.W. we went on parade at 8 A.M. nowhere have I seen it as early as this, a quarter of an hour doesn’t sound very much, but one can pack an awful lot into it in the morning. Lectures are from 8 AM. to 10.15 then a quarter of an hours break, lectures from 1.30 to 5 P.M. a half hour for tea, then back for an hours lecture 5.30 to 6.30. The latter is the worst of all I think, we have to dash from the classroom to the mess, which takes about 6 mins, queue for our meal, bolt it down then dash back to the classroom, all in half an hour, we’ll all be suffering from indigestion before long. Unless the instructor taking us is willing to let us off a little early then we are unable to catch the 6.30 p.m. bus into Stourbridge.
Each day we have an hours P.T. & there is a mad F.O. for the P.T. officer, at least we call him mad, he is one of these very keen types he used to be a champion swimmer before the war. The first
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time we went over the assault course, it was pretty gruelling. Twice round a half a mile track then into a veritable maze of climbing over walls, crawling under wire, balancing along poles ten feet high. One part was swinging along on a single rope across a pond until we were able to wrap our legs around a tree & pull ourselves in. The P.T. instructor a Cpl that was showing us got about three quarters of the way across to the point where the rope sagged the most & there he fell in. He had his long blue P.T. trousers on too, boy! did we laugh, needless to say he didn’t join in. Twice we have been on hellish long cross country the P.T. officer being bang on at running cracks along at a hell of a pace. Then he binds us because we dont [sic] do so well & shoots the bull about being fit for flying etc. We bind him back, & tell him to have a crack at aircrew it is quite a scream. The trouble is we generally arrive back at about 12.45 & have to wash & dress & dash for dinner in three quarters of an hour, so invariably we arrive back late for classes.
The NAAFI here is a pretty good one, we have our break there, they have a good selection of cakes. In classes we are doing all the old familiar Bombing Theory over again, & using the Bombing Teacher. We do our flying on Ansons, seems we are never free from them, I’m really cheesed of winding that undercart up & down.
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Yesterday, May Day, was our day off, not because the RAF favoured the Labour Party, but it just happened that way. After quite a bit of wangling they finally granted us the priviledge [sic] of getting off an hour earlier [inserted] Friday [/inserted] There was a bus running at 5.30 P.M. & we went into town on that & there caught a bus to Birmingham, we were able to book beds at the Services Club that night. Jimmy Selkirk, Harry & I went out on the beer as Norman had gone by train to Oxford as his fiancé was there spending her leave. We eventually found a pretty low dive & finished the night there. The next day we wandered around for awhile, then went to a cinema, & travelled back on the 9 P.M. bus to catch the 10.30 P.M. from Stourbridge to the camp.
The other day we had our flight photograph taken, we all agreed to look cheesed in it, to register our disappointment of this place, & it came out pretty well. We have been to the station cinema here, they charge us 1/- it isn’t too bad, if only they didn’t have rows of old seats on the same level. Because if one is sitting a fair way back it is impossible to see over all the heads on the same level as yourself. I wonder if we will get leave after this place, I hope so, there are the usual rumours floating around, first we will then we wont, [sic] I guess we wont [sic] know till it arrives.
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[underlined] Sunday 7th May. [/underlined]
I should say roughly half our time has passed here, as most chaps remain here a [deleted] fortnight [/deleted] [inserted] month [/inserted] anyway roll on the next fortnight, & lets get to hell out of here. It is a fairly hum drum existence with the lectures & so forth. On Monday we had a pleasant diversion in the form of wet dinghy drill, in Stourbridge baths, I rather like it as we are able to swim about afterwards – Turning the large bomber dinghy over when one is in the water with full flying kit, will be some job in the North Sea, I reckon. It isn’t too bad in the baths, but then there is no rough sea or wind to contend with.
The F/Sgt in charge of us is a pretty good guy, pretty quiet, & got quite a bit of service in, he is thoroughly cheesed with the station. Beside the famous old Theory of Bombing lectures he takes us on the Bombing Teacher. We were up there the other day & looking from the open window, when old Alves went dashing past. Tom Alan commented “Old Alves is on the warpath”, boy! he must have had keen ears because he called us down & bound us rigid. For the Gunnery lectures there is an F/O A.G with a V.F.M. he is a Welsh chap, shoots a fair amount of lines, but is really a good type, his lectures make a welcome break. For the aircraft rec. there is a nattering little sgt A.G. who absolutely cheeses everybody, nobody likes him. The other chap a tall F/Sgt is a good egg though, livens up the epidiascope slides with an occasional nude woman.
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The map reading periods are O.K. too. the F/O who takes us did his tour out in Abyssinia, I believe it was on Valentine or some obsolete kites. Thinking of it, it must have been a pretty easy tour, but he is a good chap, a Flt/Lt D.F.M. who is also there, shoots bags of lines, but they are worth listening to & at this stage, we are ready to lap up all lines. A chap who ‘nattered’ to us the other day about ‘ops’ in the Middle East, said at the beginning of the campaign, the crack Italian liner Rex was in the harbour at Tobruk. They were briefed to attack & did so, but they were made to bomb with 25 lb H.E. naturally they were like pin pricks, & that night she whipped up steam & was away. An Air Commodore was slung out of the RAF for that. We went out on a lorry the other day for practical map reading, & drove around the lanes, stopped & had to find where we were & make tactical sketches. About three times we did this, & then had to change into our P.T. kit, that we had brought, leap out of the lorry & run the 3 miles back to camp. It rather reminded me of the hunt with the hounds leaping from the van & tearing down the road. We have been on Groupie’s parade, & he certainly is down on aircrew, the parade was a real bully one, bags of shouting & everything. He whizzed through the permanent staff without saying much, & when he came to us, he went really slow & bound practically everyone rigid, & the W.O. almost wore his pencil out, taking names.
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Yesterday was our day off again & once more we spent it in Birmingham. We were unable to get in at the Services Club & had to go to a large house converted into a hostel, it was pretty good. This week saw the commencing of our Flying here, I made three flights all day bombing exercises. The first one was Wednesday, & came off alright, there is a village fairly near the range & that made me twitter. It is a bit more awkward to bomb from the kite than from the Canadian Anson, because there is no perspex panel in the nose. Also the sliding panel is metal, not perspex, this necessitated having it always open, causing quite a draught. On Friday Harry Jamieson & I did two more flights with an ex-operational pilot F/O Ryan. It was pretty grim because he hadn’t the technique of the steady bombing runs, like the regular B.G pilots. The kite would be bouncing around necessitating us giving corrections & sometimes we would be nowhere near the target so we had to call ‘Dummy Run’. He would scream & bind & curse like the clappers, & said “It’s a bloody good job you’re not over a target”. That kind of stuff never gets anybody places though, & only leads to a bad exercise. We do a few of these Day Bombing trips, maybe some Night bombing, & then some Night Combined exercises. These are only cross countries but they give them the high sounding titles. We’re beginning to get really cheesed with all this training, no wonder chaps get stale, & lose all their interest & enthusiasm.
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[underlined] Friday 14th May. [/underlined]
Life still flows in its uninteresting way, we have done some map reading trips. We go on a small cross country of 3 legs, with the pilot & 3 B.A’s each who map reads one leg of the trip. They are O.K. if you get a decent pilot, who puts the Forces programme on the intercom, & is fairly tolerant with the map reading. I was up with ‘Taffy’ Evans & Norman Griffin the other day & we had a binder! Poor old Taffy chopped in the mire, by losing himself completely. The pilot was one of those tricky individuals who would fly the aircraft so a village was directly under the nose, & out of sight, & then ask you suddenly where it was. We coped anyway.
I had a good laugh the other day, whilst standing by in the flight hut for a day bombing exercise. There were a couple of chaps from the previous course there, also detailed for a bombing exercise. Like us all they weren’t very keen on it, but the antics of one of them kept me in fits. He was small with dark wavy hair, & a perfect cherub face, chubby rosy cheeks etc. looking about 17. Every few minutes he would pop to the door & gaze at the sky. Any cloud, no matter however small, was greeted with a beaming smile & the exclamation “Wizard” drawing out the last syllable, as it meant there was a faint hope of the exercise being cancelled.
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Whilst every time the sun burst forth he would scowl & slump disconsolately back in his chair, resigning himself to Fate. In the end they took off & so did we.
The lectures are still as binding & unvarying. Yesterday our “Chiefy” was taking us on Bombing Theory & although he is a good chap, he is a real lousy lecturer. Bombing Theory being one of the driest subjects in itself he succeeded in putting half the class to sleep in a quarter of an hour. Then a Sqdn/Ldr Education Officer from Group slipped into the room, & after listening for 10 mins, took over the lecture. For the next half hour, it even became quite interesting, & some points were cleared up, which I for one had been doubtful over for a long time.
So far rumours that we will not get leave at the end of the course have gained strength, I hope they turn out false. When the last few days arrive W/O Alves gives the Senior Man a list of the O.T.U’s to which we are to be posted & then the course is left to sort them out amongst themselves, I hope we get some decent ones.
Norman has had an old cycle of his sent up, it is quite handy for getting around on, and half the course use it. It might be a good idea to get one if I land on one of there really dispersed drones I hear about. I played a game of football earlier & am just beginning to feel the effects, so I’ll have supper at the NAAFI & turn in.
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[underlined] Thursday May 20th. [/underlined]
We had our day off on Tuesday, & a crowd of us caught the bus outside the camp into Wolverhampton. The morning was spent looking around the town & then after dinner in a nice little café we found a decent park & spent the afternoon. After tea in the Forces Canteen above Surton’s we got down to a steady pub crawl. I have never seen a place like it, for so many girls of 16 – 17 in the pubs. Old Pete Rawlings had quite an amusing encounter with one, but this is not the place to disclose it. Anyway after closing time, four of us wandered around in a happy stupor till we sobered up a little & realised we had better look around for means to return to camp. We finally phoned a taxi who took us right into the camp, & off we bowled to bed.
As far as the flying part goes we are on the last stages, that of day and night cross countries. I don’t know which one the greater bind the latter gets it by a narrow margin, I think. It will be a relief to get to O.T.U. & go on a really organised X country. So far I have been on two day trips & five ‘scrubs’, it is an inoffensive word – ‘scrub’, but conceals a lot. When we are due for a day X country we hand our names into the Guard Room & then at 5.30 or 6 AM an S.P. rudely awakens
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us, to tear off for early briefing, breakfast & take off at 8.30 A.M. – there are afternoon X countries but I haven’t had the luck to get on one yet. It is binding to get up, see the rain, & knowing in advance it will be scrubbed, tramp 10 mins through the rain to the briefing room, & wait until they inform you officially it is cancelled. Now we are getting wise & only two going up, one with Norman’s bike to nip back & arouse the others if by chance, flying is on.
On a night cross country, our main function is winding the undercart. Actually we are supposed to do some infra red bombing, but no-one has been known to see the target, the pilot hates stooging around, & the navigator is chomping to set course. Consequently we sit & shiver in the darkness, maybe once in a while giving a beacon position to the Navigator, or taking over the controls while the pilot dives to the back. We had a little excitement on one trip when the weather was closing in over the airfield when we returned, but we got in O.K. The only good thing about it is we sleep the next day, & it breaks the monotony. A kite crashed the other day killing the occupants, they weren’t on our course. The S.S.Q. backs onto our billets though & the blood wagon was outside with the bodies in while they were getting things ready inside. It was a fairly sobering thought, but I guess we shall see more of it, the closer we get to ‘ops’.
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[underlined] 25th May. [/underlined]
Once more a change of address, I am now at my O.T.U. at Hixon, Staffs, having arrived here today. Most of us came here, some went to Whitehead & four to Lossiemouth. ‘Taffy’ Evans has gone to Whitehead & ‘Buntie’ Rogers, Norman, Jimmy, Harry, & most of our clique are still together. Naturally the Lossiemouth posting wasn’t wanted, there being no Scots on the course, so it was drawn for, I thanked the Lord my name didn’t come out of the hat.
Anyway the usual clearance procedure was got through & we were driven by lorry into Wolverhampton this morning. There was a couple of hours to kill before the train & we spent them in town. Although the distance from Bobbington to Hixon isn’t so great as the crow flies it took us a few hours by train with the changing. Transport came out after we phoned from Stafford station, & I was surprised to find the airfield was 8 miles, out from the town, at least – somebody had told me it was nearer than that.
We are all in the same hut, they are not Nissan huts, but kind of asbestos boarding & wood, on concrete bases, much better & larger than the Nissan hut. Each collection of huts is called a site & given a number, the site with the mess etc. is called Command Site, these sites are dispersed over a wide area, & are a considerable distance from the airfield. Apparently a cycle is a very handy thing, Pete Rawlings has one now.
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A course arrives here every fortnight, & we are No 17 course. After nearly a fortnight of ground training terminating with exams, we commence flying, by this time we have ‘crewed-up’ of course. This is the stage where we crowd of Air Bombers will finally split up, because inevitably after each of us joins a crew we shall go about with them, I shall be sorry, because we have been together a long while, but this breaking up of friendships happens again & again in the RAF as ours is an odd course number (17) we move to the satellite airfield, Seighford, when we have completed our ground training & finish our O.T.U. there. It is situated the other side of Stafford & is more dispersed than this, but there is a lot less discipline, as chaps say who have been there.
As usual on arrival at a new place, we have been pumping all the fellows that we can find on the various aspects of the course, & every conceivable thing attached to it. We haven’t collected much ‘gen’ yet though, beyond the fact that we parade outside the mess, after breakfast tomorrow, with the rest of training wing personnel, & then the S.W.O. will march us to the Training Wing for roll call. Apparently this is an everyday procedure & is fairly strictly adhered to. I have written off the letters to home & Mary as usual on arriving at a new station, with the address & what gen is available, & now I’ll close this entry and get into bed I think, then tomorrow I’ll start one of my last stages towards a squadron.
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[underlined] June 1st. [/underlined]
Things have changed somewhat since I last wrote. I have just returned from a compassionate 48 hr pass, which I went on when I received some very bad news from home. The C.G.I. said that I would have to revert back a course, so I am staying here on 17 course, whilst the boys on 17 go over to Seighford. We would have broken up anyway so maybe it is just as well this way. They finish their ground training this week and then my course commences the following week.
This O.T.U. course lasts approximately 3 months, after the fortnights ground training, it is all flying training with an occasional lecture slipped in. Half of the time, (the first half of the 3 months) is day flying, & the other or second half night flying. The exercises are similar in each case, we commence circuits & bumps with an instructor, then after our pilot has flown solo with us as a crew, we complete our circuits & bumps without the instructor. Then day bombing with a ‘screened’ or instructor pilot & a ‘screened’ Air Bomber after the first exercise, we do the rest alone, there are quite a few of them too. The same procedure is followed for gunnery & fighter affiliation, although most of the actual firing exercises are done with four gunners & a ‘screened’ gunner in one aircraft. Then we do a cross country with a ‘screen’, & afterwards another couple by ourselves, each longer in duration.
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The same procedure is followed for night flying, as far as is practical. Then at the end of the course comes the pièce de resistance – a leaflet [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] or “nickel” raid on France. I hope we are able to do one, as sometimes the weather prevents it & crews do a “bullseye” instead. This is an exercise over England, combining Fighter Command & the ground defences, except ack ack naturally. It isn’t that I am all that keen to see what the other side of the Channel is like, but I think it affords quite good practise, before going to a squadron and the real thing.
From what I have seen of the actual station here it isn’t too bad. The mess is about 8 minutes walk from our site, & the food is pretty good, (a lot better than Bobbington anyway) it is laid out fairly well too, & the waitresses serve us sitting down. The ante room & billiards rooms are quite large, & the station cinema, isn’t too bad, they are improving the latter I believe. Getting in & out of Stafford is rather a snag, there is a liberty bus from the Guard Room of an evening, but we are required to book seats the previous day by dinner-time, & as we rarely know that far ahead if we are going in, it is generally by taxi that we arrive there. At the moment I am acting as runner in the Discip Office until the next course commences, I wonder what sort of chaps they will be. Pete Rawlins has crewed up with the pilot that I originally had, he seemed a decent chap.
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[underlined] 8th June. [/underlined]
Well, I have been on the course nearly two days now. There wasn’t much for me to do last week stooging around in the Discip. Office, so I was given a 48 hr pass over the weekend. So I said goodbye to all the boys as they moved over to Seighford during the week end, though I shall see Norman a couple of times in Stafford if we can arrange it. I was lucky travelling into Stafford, I had just come out of the Guard Room with my pass, when an MT Corporal said “Going into Stafford, Sarge?”. So in I travelled in style, lolling back in the Groupie’s car, the driver was going to meet the Groupie at the station.
When I returned yesterday I had expected to find the billet empty, but I had switched my things to the corner bed, just on the off chance, somebody might roll in. They certainly had – a whole room of Canadians, pilots, navigators, and Air Bombers. On the whole they seem a pretty decent crowd, pretty noisy, but full of life and really generous & anxious to be friendly, I like Canadians quite a lot, anyway. I had to smile, because as soon as they found I had been on the previous course, they kept asking me all sorts of ‘gen’ about the course, in exactly the same manner as I had done a fortnight earlier. It was precious little I could give them. Then today we started the ground work, it was exactly the same as my first few lectures on the last course, they follow a strict pattern here.
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[underlined] June 13th. [/underlined]
I have arrived at a stage which will play a most important part in my immediate future – I am crewed up. In a bomber a man’s life is wholly in the hands of his crew members, and the closer they are together, and the better they are as a team, then the more chance of survival they have. I [deleted] a [/deleted] had always understood that considerably rare, and quite an amount of time was allotted at O.T.U’s for the purpose of selecting crews. Hixon has proved the fallacy of it, everyone starts the course separately as a course of pilots, & course of navigators or Air bombers – W/Ops etc. They remain in their classes for the first lot of lectures and hardly have any chance of meeting the various other categories of air crew, the only chance being in the mess or the billet. Suddenly like a bolt from the blue it is announced that everyone must be crewed up in two days or else they will be allocated by the instructors into a crew. A mad flap then starts, people go wandering about, staring into each others faces, vainly trying to sum up whether a person will be an asset to crew up with – or otherwise. Having experienced this on the previous course, I thought it best to let matters take their own course.
Friday night, I was sitting in the mess, after writing a few letters, having a quiet drink & waiting for the sandwiches to arrive for supper. At the next table to me, were two Canadian
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pilots from my billet, McCann who slept next to me & Cecil Kindt who slept opposite McCann. They had been drinking for a while and were both pretty mellow, as Kindt went out to get some more drinks he [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] leant over me and said, “Mac said would you join him at the next table”, so I moved over to where McCann was sitting.
We chatted for a couple of minutes, then he asked if [deleted] [indecipherable letter] [/deleted] I was crewed up with anyone. When I replied in the negative, he said “Well how would you like to sling in with me, and be my bomb-aimer?” I rather liked him, and so I had found a pilot. Cecil Kindt returned with the beer and we had a drink to it. Well, I think I had better put on record my impressions of Mac, as he is always called, & the other crew members. Len McCann, though I’ve never heard anyone call him Len, is only about 5’ 4”, and almost as broad. He said he has lost a lot of weight over here, & that he weighed 220 lbs in Canada, so he must have been tubby. For his weight & size though he isn’t so very fat, he has some superfluous flesh but is extraordinarily thickset under it. The amusing part of him is his neck which is very short & seems almost as thick as his shoulders are wide, actually he takes an 18 1/2" collar. The other fellows often call him for no reason at all, just to watch him turn around.
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He cannot swivel his neck as we do, but has to lift his shoulder & turn as one would with a stiff neck, yet the action is not a slow one; he takes all the kidding in very good part. In features he strikes me as very similar to the comedian Lou Costello, having the same cheery round face & turned up nose. He had his hair cropped right short in Canada & now stands up in a mass of wiry black bristles. With a short bristly moustache this completed my description of Mac, with whom I shall be for long time – I trust.
I asked Mac if he had a Navigator, & when he said he had one in mind, I told him of another one, who seemed quite a ‘gen’ chap to me. He was a Canadian & Mac knew him & told me he was a real farmer, & that he always ‘nattered’ nineteen to the dozen, so we didn’t ask him. On my advice Mac tackled the navigator he had in mind, just in case somebody else should snap him up. Nobody had, and he became our navigator.
His name is Ken Price, also a Canadian, and I cannot give a better description than say he is the exact image of Gary Cooper. It may seem as though I am rather a film fan, but the resemblance is remarkable. He is tall & lean, very quiet and reserved, and seems a thoroughly decent chap all round. By all accounts, from what the other navigators say he is a darned
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good man at his job.
Then this afternoon Mac introduced me to the wireless/op. he had chosen. Bill Bowery is his name, and he is English coming from Sunderland. He seems quite a keen type and knows his gen, his broad “Geordie” accent tickles us, but it is nowhere near as broad as Jimmy Selkirk’s was, or others I have heard. In appearance, he is about 5’ 8” well set, with straight auburn hair, brushed down, he seems to have an expression as though puzzling or enquiring over something, & that may be a good thing. Anyway there are four of us now, we shall get a rear gunner in a day or so, & the five of us do O.T.U. together.
Mid/Upper Gunners do their Gunnery School somewhere and then join us at the end of the course, generally in time for the “Nickel”. As we are flying Wimpeys there is no accomodation [sic] for them, & it would be a waste of time their coming here all through the course. Also in Fighter-Evasion Tactics the Rear Gunner gives all the instructions, as the co-operation between the pilot & him is the result of their training at O.T.U. The remaining member of the crew, the Flight Engineer we will pick up at our Heavy Conversion Unit, and then we will be a full crew of seven. I hope the other three members will be as good as these, & we should have a rattling good crew.
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[underlined] Thursday 17th June. [/underlined]
On Monday we found ourselves a rear gunner. Mac had noticed a chap who looked pretty keen, but I had heard him ‘nattering’ away and didn’t go much on him. I had another one in mind, fairly similar in appearance to the above mentioned one, and pointed him out to Mac, so he told me to go ahead and contact him.
Nobody has asked him to crew up, and he agreed to pitch in with us. He is a pretty decent kid, he is only 18, I know I’m only 19 myself but he looks very young and he is only about 5’ 5” and slimly built. He is a Londoner and comes from fairly near me, the most important thing, he seems to know his ‘gen’ on gunnery pretty thoroughly. His name is Johnny Watson.
So there we are the five of us, who will do O.T.U. together as a crew and pick up the other two afterwards. Somehow I can’t help wondering sometimes what lies in store for us, and the ability of a crew counts for such a lot in emergencies. Still ours looks pretty good to me, even though it does seem rather early to say it.
At the moment we are completing our ground lectures, and then tomorrow we start our exams. They aren’t actually long ones, or terribly important, although if one makes a pretty poor showing they are liable to be put back a course. The only subject
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I am hazy on is gun turrets, I had hardly any instruction on them at B. & G. School, then here a couple of hours were devoted to it. As it happened I was at the back of a crowded class room, and the diagram being on the wall, well I just couldn’t see a thing.
We have had some lectures together as a crew although for the majority of them we remain in our aircrew categories. There is an old Wellington Mk I in the Airmanship Hangar, & is sitting on supports, so that undercart drill can be carried out. We scramble all over it, learning the positions of various things, petrol cocks, escape hatches, crash positions, oxygen bottles, dinghy releases, & a 101 other things necessary to learn in an aircraft. A couple of times we have scrambled out of it, on dinghy or baling out drill – hope I never have to use either. The Wimpey is a real battered old thing, but it was used for the “1,000 bomber” raid on Cologne. Apparently to make up a 1,000 aircraft they called on all the old kites at O.T.U’s & anything that could get airborne was used. If the public had only known some of the old kites that were used they would have had a shock.
The airmanship instructor, Sgt Peacock, did a tour on Lancs as a mid/upper gunner and saw quite a bit of action apparently. One would think he would at least get a crown at the end of the tour, but his is well overdue.
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[underlined] 21st June [/underlined]
‘Midsummer’s Day’ – it certainly has been glorious weather too, I’m afraid the long daylight evenings mean later day flying for us and consequently less evenings off. We officially started our Flying Course today, though our crew weren’t on today, we commence our circuits and bumps tomorrow.
The results of the exams were posted up today. I had done well in everything but Turrets, on which I made a horrible ‘boob’ – it was as I expected Macgillvray the Canadian pilot opposite me in the billet was cursing because his Bomb Aimer, another Canadian named Dodson, had come bottom in the B/Aimer course. Apparently Dodson is a bit of a woman chaser, & didn’t bother staying in to do any swotting for the exam. Macgillvray was giving forth “He wants to get down to some studying instead of getting on the nest so much”, and so forth. The most amusing part is that Macgillvray is one of the biggest wolves I’ve known. He has a stock of Tangee lipsticks & cosmetics, with a few silk stockings which he uses as bait for the women, - he says. I have never known him to part with anything in the fortnight he has been here & he has been with a couple of women. It is dead funny to hear Mac slang him about them, as Mac has very little time for women. He isn’t a misogynist but he just doesn’t bother. Anyway most of his remarks although screamingly funny are quite unprintable.
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We are all in ‘A’ Flight, a whole course comprises a Flight which goes round in strict rotation, as the courses commence Day or Night Flying. Our Flight Commander Sqdn/Ldr. Ford seems quite O.K. he gave us a welcoming natter, and was very much to the point regarding keeping the crew room tidy, punctuality etc. still he is quite right in stressing these points. This afternoon I squeezed in an hour’s practise on the Bombing Teacher. There is a system here where the various aircrew categories each have to put in so many hours practise on exercises relating to their own particular aircrew duties Bomb Aimers have to do 20 hours in the Bombing Teacher, 10 hours on the Link Trainer, and 6 hours operating a secret navigational instrument. Navigators have to spend quite a few more hours on this instrument than we do, and also take a certain number of astro-shots. W/Ops have to get [deleted] [indecipherable word] a stated number of Q.D.M’s fixes etc. & Gunners get so many hours, spotting turret training, and other exercises, I haven’t found out what the pilots do yet. All the exercises which are carried out on the ground, that is practically everyone’s except the W/Ops have to be fitted into our spare time. That is when we are hanging around the crew room & not flying, then we can nip across & tick off an hour in the Bombing Teacher or the Link. During the rest of the course, although we are flying most of the time, we still have some lectures, as crews on matters of general interest & importance.
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[underlined] 27th June [/underlined]
Sunday again – although it is very similar to all the other days of the week, here. We have a Church Parade, first thing, all the pupils fall in at Training Wing and then march to the airfield, along the perimeter track, to a temporary parade ground outside a hangar, its about 1 1/2 miles from Training Wing. Anyway all the station is on parade there, & we take our place, the Groupie then rolls up for the flag hoisting, inspection and so forth. The flag is flown on a double line & pully attached to the extension of the hangar roof, where the door slides back into. Today the S.P. that was doing the flag hoisting pulled the flag up O.K. then when he gave a pull to unfurl it at the top nothing happened. He pulled & pulled & still no joy, the poor devil got very red in the face as the Groupie was waiting to give the order “General Salute”. However there was nothing else for it, & shamefacedly he hauled it down, & not daring to risk it again, pulled it up already unfurled. After the salute we had to march off in squadrons to another hangar where the pulpit was an RAF lorry covered with the Union Jack and a piano, for hymn singing on. When this was over we were marched off dismissed, and then everything carried on as in a normal day. On all stations when flying is done there is no break for Sundays as they had in the peace time RAF, funny how one almost loses track of the days that way.
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Although we are still on the circuits and bumps stage we are about at the end of it, and will soon be onto some more interesting exercises. All of the crew except the Navigator fly on circuits & landings, & he is lucky not to, it gets pretty binding after the first hour or so. When we first started a ‘screened’ pilot flew with ‘Mac’ giving him the ‘gen’ and everything, and after a little while let him go solo. We were a little apprehensive, in case the short time given, wasn’t enough to let Mac become acquainted with the new cockpit layout. However everything went O.K. and then we continued on our own with circuits & bumps. It hardly seems as though we are off the ground before we are getting ready for the approach & landing. Some of the landings we bump up & down quite a few times & Mac [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] refers to these as the “Grasshopper Blues”. I sit in the collapsible seat, for the second pilot, & it is O.K. seeing everything that goes on, but I wouldn’t like to be in the W/Ops position, feeling the bumps & jarrings, without seeing what was what. For some of our circuits we go over to Seighford and do them there. Actually if we could fly continually we could do them all in a couple of days. However in order to make the aircraft go round, & keep all the crews at the same stage in training, we are allotted the same length of detail. Sometimes a crew does get ahead of the others by luckily striking good weather every time, & never scrubbing an exercise through snags.
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[underlined] July 4th. [/underlined]
American Independence Day – I expect all the Americans around here are making whoopee. There are always a lot in Stafford, they come from the large transit camp at Stone, a small town 6 – 7 miles from here. All American aircrew, I believe, entering or leaving the country pass through there.
We are making steady progress on the course, we have managed to get three bombing exercises done, we are a bit ahead in that respect but behind in Fighter Application & a couple of other things. As I said before it is a matter of luck sometimes the kites are U/S & that puts us behind on that type of exercise for a while, it pretty well evens up at the end though. On the first bombing exercise we went up with a ‘screened’ pilot & a ‘screened’ bomb aimer. Mac had never made bombing runs before, it is only pilots that have been instructors, & staff pilots at B & G schools who have that experience. The ‘screened’ pilot was there to instruct Mac on how to make the corrections of course, that I asked for, & various other little points. There wasn’t very much need for the ‘screened’ bomb aimer, as bombing is very similar on whatever aircraft one flys in. The main point, he was there to point out, was in the method of giving corrections of course. In Ansons the pilots could flat turn them, thus the sighting angle was practically round when you gave “steady”, and a good pilot could hold it practically as it was. However a Wellington has to have banked turns, consequently if the bomb
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aimer waits till the target is in the drift wires of the bomb sight & then gives “Steady” – the pilot flattens out and the target is then way off to one side, so it requires some practise to estimate when to say “Steady” thus making the target come into the drift wires when the pilot flattens out.
Poor old Mac has a hell of a time on run ups, he is so small that he can just see out of the windscreen. He watches the target whilst making his run up, & then when I give a correction, he slides down in his seat to kick the rudder bars, & his head is below the windscreen level, so then he has to pull himself up again to look out. He told us he is actually just under the height standard for a pilot but flannelled his medical.
We did a low level bombing exercise yesterday, & once more took up the two ‘screens’. My first bomb overshot by about 300 yds, & so did the next, I checked every setting on the bombsight, & all were correct, so I called the ‘screened’ bomb aimer & told him, & he could find nothing wrong. So I tried the third one & that was 300 yds overshoot again, then I realised I was taking a line of sight with the back & fore sights as for high level, whereas for low level bombing the back sight, & front beads are used. I told the screen & he told me to carry on & they would make the exercise a grouping one. That is by maths they discount the different sighting & work out where the bombs would have landed, using the front beads. The exercise came out to 47 yards so it ended O.K.
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[underlined] 10th July [/underlined]
The time is slipping past and we are well on the way to finishing our day flying. We had rather an amusing incident the other day, amusing that is to everyone but Mac. He always taxies rather swiftly & as we were passing the control tower, we reached the part where the perimeter track, dips a little. Consequently we gathered speed and started to swing, instead of throttling back & braking, Mac decided to open up the opposite throttle to swing us back. However he over-corrected and we swung back across the perimeter track & onto the grass the other side, in the direction of the runway. Again Mac opened the opposite throttle, and again over-corrected, & we crossed the perry-track once more & raced towards a hangar. Mac clamped on the brakes for all he was worth but it wasn’t enough, the hangar doors were fully open, & we struck the edge of them with our port main plane & sent them thundering across. It must have shaken the people inside to see the hangar doors suddenly move swiftly. From our point of view it was quite amusing, one moment there was hardly a soul [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] in sight, then with the same effect as if someone had kicked an ant-hill, people came pouring out from the hangar, & clustered around the kite. The pièce de resistance was the fact that we had cut clean through the ropes that held the Groupie’s flag & this was now drooped nonchalantly over our astro-dome. – Groupy took a dim view of it. Poor Mac sweated blood, but he only got a strip torn off, but the kite had a mains-plane changed.
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[underlined] 17th July [/underlined]
We had an enjoyable night in Stafford this week, as usual we got set into a regular pub crawl. Old Mac is all against this, he likes to get settled in at one pub and stay there all night drinking steadily. His words of wisdom are “Jeeze, you’re wasting valuable drinking time, going round looking for other pubs, - sit here”. I have never seen anyone drink so much, and affect them so little, it is amusing. He can knock back the pints and I have never seen him, what you might call drunk, merry yes, but inebriated – never. His personality is amazing everyone everywhere gets to know him, & all like him, he will sit and ‘natter’ with people for hours, and tell the most amusing stories of his life in Ottawa, and recount anecdotes of his numerous friends. He certainly is a tonic to have around. While we were in Stafford we saw the Gunnery Leader, he is an Aussie Flt/Lt, and a real lad when he is sober. Now he was out on the beer, evidently, & was strolling down the High St, with his hat on the back of his head, a dingy old battle dress on, & swinging, a gent’s black umbrella, rolled up (where he got [deleted] [indecipherable letter] [/deleted] it from I dont know). On his other arm was a real brassy blonde – he certainly doesn’t give a damn.
All our bombing exercises are finished and two of our three cross country trips, I have one more gunnery trip to do, and so has ‘Nipper’, thats [sic] what we call Johnny now. I rather like the Air Firing trips which are carried out in Cardigan Bay, then
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they generally fly to Rhyl, & fly at about 30 – 50 ft just a little way out from the shore. There are always lots of holiday makers there. Cecil Kindt had a strip torn off the other day, through an Air Firing accident. They were sent out over the Wash to fire so many rounds into the sea, this in itself is pretty boring and the gunners always look round for some sort of a target. His rear gunner spotted some sort of an old hulk and fired at it on a couple of runs. Apparently it was a wreck & their [sic] were a couple of divers, & salvage men working on it, & one leapt into the water, because of the bullets. God knows how the rear gunner didn’t see them, anyway they got the kite’s letter, phoned to the shore, & by the time Cecil landed the pressure had been put on Sqdn/Ldr Ford as he gave it to Kindt hot & strong.
Macgillvray has been providing laughs all round with his amorous adventures. Not so very long ago he met a nurse in Nottingham, a very nice girl by all accounts, a widow, anyway it wasn’t long before Macgillvray was staying at her flat. However he couldn’t get to Nottingham very much so he began associating with a WAAF Sgt here on the camp. One thing about him he admits openly what he is after, anyway she wasn’t that type, but after a little while with Macgillvray she was. Now she is crazy over him, & runs about after him, whilst he is very off handed. At the same time he meets an A.T.S. girl, on leave who lives in a house, a couple of hundred yards from our billet. It didn’t take him very long to string her along
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as well, so there he is with three strings to his bow at the same time – no wonder he looks a wreck. The amusing incident arose the other night when the WAAF Sgt saw him coming out of a corn field with this blonde A.T.S. She was furious & drinking with him the next night she said “Don’t let me see you with that – tart again,” which for her is a very strong word. Jokingly one night she said she was the “Three-hook Wonder”, hook meaning Stripes, Macgillvray, & Mac, who also knows her well, immediately changed it to the “Three-Hook Blunder,” & later cut it down to “The Blunder,” & so it has remained – poor girl.
They are a pretty decent bunch of fellows in this hut, we have had a little reshuffle in order to get crews together. Some of the original Canucks are in other huts, whilst Johnny, & Bill are now in here so we have all our crew. Macgillvray has his Navigator – Lance Weir, & his Bomb Aimer Dodson, both Canadians in here. Weir is a really decent chap, very quiet spoken, some of the boys kid him & call him “Toody-Fruit,” because he has a habit of rubbing talcum powder over his body. Frankie Allen, pilot, Yelland, navigator, & Tom Hughes – bomb aimer, all Canucks form another crew. Hughes is very decent, I have only one pair of pyjamas & when that was at the laundry he saw me dive into bed in the altogether, & asked the reason. When I [deleted] said [/deleted] [inserted] told [/inserted] him he tossed me a Canadian Comforts pair & said “Keep it, I’ve got five other pairs”, it was good of him. Their rear gunner Rose, an English chap is here, a small comical fellow, they call him John L. after the boxer Sullivan, because he wears long pants like him. Cecil Kindt, with Sam Small, navigator, and Macdonald, b/aimer, all Canadians, complete the hut.
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[underlined] 22nd July [/underlined]
We are now the senior course here, and have now moved on to become the ‘night-flying’ flight, tonight we expect to start our night circuits & bumps, some of the chaps commenced last night. They hoped to squeeze us a 48 hr pass in between the end of day flying & the start of night, but we were a little behind as a course through unavoidable incidents, so we had had it! I am sorry the day cross country trips are over, as I really enjoyed them, we generally flew to Rhyl, and I camera-bombed the pier. Then drill was done as if we were on an ‘op’ & that was our coast we were leaving. We then flew across to the Isle of Man which separated the enemy coast, & I would camera-bomb the quay at Ramsey. With a brilliant sun, & flying in our shirt sleeves everything looked lovely. The sea was a sparkling blue and invariably there would be a huge convoy spread about, a never failing source of interest to us. However we had been warned to keep well clear of them, as the naval gunners were very trigger itchy, and one of our crews had been fired on by an aircraft carrier. We would fly across the Isle of Man, head North, then turn in at the English coast once more, & return to Cannock Chase for a bombing exercise of 12 practise bombs on the range, & then return to base. The rations were pretty good, we always saved our tin of orange juice to drink on a morning after the night before it was very good, I suppose we will get the same on night X-countries.
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On the first one we had a ‘screened’ pilot, then the next one did by ourselves, the third & largest, we carried a full bomb load of 250 lb H.E’s filled with sand, except one which was live. This I had to bomb on a sea range with and photograph the splash. We had a ‘screened’ bomb-aimer/navigator on this one, an F/O pretty decent chap. [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] [inserted] He [/inserted] asked Mac if he would let him do some tight turns over his home in Aberystwyth as we were passing over it. Mac agreed but quickly retrieved the controls when he saw we were almost stalling.
For night flying we report to the flight just after 6 P.M. to see what is on, naturally it is broad daylight then. Then if we are not on till late we can go to the Station Cinema, as we did last night. It is the usual effort, it is in the lecture hall, when we first came the cinematograph was mounted on a large table, so if one sat well back, the noise of the machine drownded [sic] the sound track. Now they have built a brick projection box, and have provided a wooden platform for the dearer seats – with the usual front two rows reserved – Officers Only.
Looking back at my last entry, I see I have forgotten to mention ‘Pinky’ Tomlin. He is a Canadian Bomb Aimer, but his pilot, & navigator are commissioned, & his W/Op & R/Gunner are in another hut so he is ‘one alone’. He is pretty tubby & really loves food, he bought himself an electric [deleted] plate [/deleted] [inserted] heater [/inserted] to use as a grill, & cooks things from the numerous parcels he receives from home. He was a scout master back in Canada – not a bad chap, rather hail-fellow-well met.
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[underlined] July 30th. [/underlined]
Night circuits and bumps are almost completed for us – Thank God! – they really are binding. We follow exactly the same procedure as with our day flying, first of all with an instructor, then Mac solo’ed and we carried on by ourselves. The first couple of times were O.K. but then it grew monotonous staring out into the blackness, with just the circuit lights to relieve the unbroken darkness. I suppose an artist gazing at them would murmur “Pearls cast upon a black velvet background”, but to us they mean “Keep me under your port wing, and fly at [symbol] 1,000 ft.” The Dren lighting takes some getting used to, the flarepath lights are only 15 watt bulbs and are hooded and secured to give a 15o vertical, and 40o horizontal spread of light, only in a down wind direction. Consequently one can only see them, immediately facing into them, as soon as we have taken off we can no longer see them. It was funny when Bill first saw this, he is generally working on the radio, then he looked out of the astro-dome for the first time on night take off, and called on the A/T “Hey! they’ve switched off the flare path now we are airborne”. Johnny has the worst job, sitting right at the end of the kite, cramped in his turret, and feeling all the crashes and jars of landing far more than us. Every now & again, I go lurching along the catwalk with coffee for him. Bill was quite eager to sit in the cockpit, so I change places with him sometimes & listen to dance music on the radio.
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We get more time off now than we did on night flying, our day off now becomes a night off. So we have the day off after night flying, then that night off & the following day until 6 P.M. Should night flying be scrubbed the night before, then one can make two nights and two days out of it, providing one hasn’t put in a pass. On a couple of days off we have been into Birmingham and stayed at the Services Club. At least we did the first time, the second time they were full up, so we had to doze in arm chairs & so forth. Mac took me into the American Red Cross, I didn’t think we could go in there, but it was O.K. The food in there is very good indeed, I believe it is sent over from the States. I took Johnny in there on our second visit and he thought it was an excellent place, they are certainly superior to our Services Clubs.
There is another instructor in the Bombing Section now, a Sgt Bomb Aimer, just finished his tour of ‘ops’, Sgt Mason his name is, quite a decent fellow. He gave us a ‘natter’ on what life was like on a squadron at the moment. It certainly cleared up a few points and provided a shock. According to him it is a pretty odds on chance that a crew will get the chop before finishing a tour. On his squadron only about 4 crews finished, as far as he could recollect all the time that he was there. It certainly isn’t a rosy future anyway, still there’s always the chance we will be one of them to come through.
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[underlined] 5th August [/underlined]
We have only about a fortnight left before we finish here, one crew became well advanced so they were sent over to Seighford onto 17 course the previous one to ours. At the moment we are on Night bombing exercises, and somehow we always seem to be ‘joed’ for the very last detail. Consequently we hang about all night waiting to take off, and finally get the exercise in between 6 & 7 A.M. when it is beginning to get light. Then we arrive back in the hut to find all the others are up and have been for hours – they nicknamed us “The Dawn Patrol”.
Our first prang on this course occurred the other night. There have been some major prangs on other courses while we have been here, and a few minor ones [deleted] [indecipherable letter] [/deleted] on our course, this was our first major one though. We were circling the airfield waiting to land, when we saw a kite overshoot, prang and burst into flames, not far off the end of the runway, we couldn’t see much detail at all. So we continued to circle and await instructions, then all lights were extinguished and we were ordered to land at Seighford. Over we went and lobbed in then with three others crews, and naturally were wondering what had happened.
We had a meal in the mess, & then as there was nobody around to fix us up with beds, we had to doze on chairs in the mess. After breakfast, which was quite early,
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we decided to sleep on in the ante-room, as Hixon was going to phone when we were to return. However the C.M.C. had locked the ante-room, & said it was always out of bounds in the morning, and would make no exception for us – nice type. So we had to sit on the grass outside the mess for a couple of hours.
I met Derek Ashton over there, they will be finished in a day or so, & so would I if I had still been on that course. I couldn’t have had a better crew than what I have now, though. Ashton said they liked Seighford better than Hixon as there was no ‘bull’ there and it was a lot easier to get into Stafford. The only snag is, it is far more dispersed than Hixon is.
We didn’t get back to Hixon before 1 P.M. as we were held up for brake pressure. It turned out to be Carr’s crew who had pranged. They were making a flapless landing with an instructor, owing to trouble with the flaps. The instructor was flying it, and he approached too fast, overshot didn’t make it, and crashed on the railway lines, when the kite immediately caught fire. Luckily they were all unhurt except Sgt Mann, the ‘screened’ bomb aimer, he was burnt slightly on the face, and has been admitted to hospital for a short while. It seems Fate that he should get through a tour unscathed and then have this happen at O.T.U.
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[underlined] 12th August [/underlined]
Only a week to go, and then most probably we shall fly over enemy territory for the first time – on a ‘nickel’, I hope we do one anyway. The course is split practically in half with the first half slightly ahead of the others – we are in the latter. I said goodbye to Norman and the boys on 17 course, when they came over here, they have to get cleared here as well as at Seighford. Pete Rawlings was chatting to me about his skipper, he was the one I would have had on 17 course. He said he was a damn good pilot, but he would ‘natter’ such a lot on the inter-com. – I should have hated that.
We certainly get good meals on night flying, they have opened, a place especially for us near the cinema. It is a pukka little cook house, with a Cpl & two WAAFs, just for our flight. The Cpl is a good type & we get steaks & eggs for our flying meals, it is bang on. Although we are not supposed to officially, we go there for supper, if there is no flying detail for us that particular night. There is a real craze for cards now, & Hughes, Mac, Bill, Johnny & myself & various others, often play Blackjack & Pontoon, of a night if we aren’t on. We start in the evening & play till the small hours & then stagger down to see what Flying supper is. The Canadians are fond of playing “Shoot”, & have a school regularly in the locker room.
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If night flying is scrubbed for everyone, most of the boys turn in at 11 P.M. or so, in order to have the next day free. However Mac & a couple of others hate getting to bed at that time, preferring to turn in late, & sleep the following day, as if night flying was on. They generally get Pinky Tomlins, electric heater out, & cook things out of their Canadian food parcels. Mac is really amusing when he gets nattering about “Chicken soup with noodles”, & “weeners” & various other Canadian foods. Naturally they kick up a fair amount of noise, and the boys trying to sleep shout out uncomplimentary remarks to Mac, as he is generally telling an anecdote or a story about back home. Then he immediately bellows back “- this is a night flying hut, get out of that bed, you lazy so & so”. The amusing part is the following day, when they are all up & about, & Mac is trying to sleep through the noise. He will sit up & shout “Quiet, let a guy get some sleep”, & they laugh & generally Hughes will give him a shake & say “Come on McCann this is a night flying hut”, & various cracks until Mac aims a boot. They are a good bunch of boys though.
Another good thing about this night flying is that we don’t bother about the C.O’s billet inspection every week. We just put a notice on the door “Night Flying Hut – Do Not Disturb”, & funnily enough nobody does.
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[underlined] 19th August. [/underlined]
Our O.T.U. Course has now ended, the perk was last night when we did a “Nickel” to Rennes. The first lot of our course left a few days ago, they had to do a ‘bullseye’ exercise to finish as there were no “nickels” laid on. They got 10 days leave, & posted to Lindholme to go on Lancasters, that is where we will go, everyone goes onto Lancs from this O.T.U. We had another cross country to do, the usual long stooge right up to the Orkneys, with airfire and bombing at Caernarvon – what a farce.
Yesterday we were told that all the remaining crews would finish with a ‘Nickel’ that night, & we have to take up the kite we would be flying in and Air-Test it. The tail trim proved to be U/S on ours & another was put on, with another crew air testing it. At evening time we assembled in the intelligence room for briefing, it was a pukka briefing, like they have on a squadron, with the Sqdn/Ldr Intelligence Officer taking it. Then the C.O. & a couple of other officers said a few words, & briefing was over, they even had an S.P. on duty outside the door. We put all our personal belongings in an envelope with our name on it, collected our escape kits & foreign money, then off to the locker room to dress.
Half of the crews were going to St. Malo, and the rest of us to Rennes, we were flying the same track & course to Isigny at the base of the Cherbourg peninsula, & then to Avranches our next pin point, where we would continue our various ways. Soon we were all dressed, then into the crew bus & out to the kites.
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They were lined up together, & as R/T isn’t allowed on any ‘ops’ take-offs, a yellow verey was to be fixed from control for the signal to start up engines, then a green verey, when it was time for the first kite to start taxying out. The photographic vans drove out with the camera magazines, & the LAC, rather a gigolo type, who handed up mine, uttered the famous words “Wish I was coming with you”. Suddenly up went the yellow cartridge & the ground crews leapt into action, and the roar of engines shattered the summer’s evening. Johnny then called up to say none of the lights would work in his turret, & the spare fuses had no effect. This caused quite a flap, ‘bods’ went dashing everywhere, & both an armourer & a fitter came dashing along when it was a job for an electrician. During this time the green verey went up & the first kite taxied out, Macgillvray was next, on our right and he waved to us, as they went out, we were still waiting there as the kites on our left followed Macgillvray out, & soon we were sitting there alone. The Groupy came whizzing over in his car to see what the electrician was doing, but at that time one came along with the fuses that had to be changed inside the fuselage. So everything O.K. at last, we taxied out by ourselves, the others all having taken off. All the officers were on the control tower and they waved as we went past, then onto the runway, a green from the A.C.P. and off we went. The others were circling base to gain height, & there was 10 mins to go before setting course, so we were O.K. for time. We set course with them, & made up our height by the first turning point.
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It was quite dusk as we crossed the coast near Southampton, & it was quite dark when Ken said “We’re getting near the enemy coast”. I strained my eyes to peer through the darkness, & after a little while made out the long narrow neck of land, that I had memorised so well as the Cherbourg peninsula. Then I saw my first flak, the sudden whitish flashes on the ground, & after a brief while, the flashes (like twinkling lights but not so harmless). I felt a sense of false confidence, as it seemed remote from us, but the truth was there wasn’t very much flak, and nobody would have worried much. I told them we were starboard of track, & we altered course & soon crossed the enemy coast. Johnny said there was quite a bit more flak going up at the chaps behind us.
I pinpointed the river at Avranches, & after a while we came to the dropping place, it was 15 miles S.E of Rennes owing to the wind. We had to follow the bombing procedure, & drop them by a distributor in order to space them out. A sudden shout from Johnny caused a flap, & as he said “There’s thousands of them floating everywhere,” I cursed him as I wanted to give the order “Close Bomb Doors”. Eventually we shut him up and returned to base. It was an uneventful return journey, & we landed tired but happy (admittedly mainly because we were going on leave). Carr got quite a bit of flak over St. Malo.
We slept in this morning for a while & then got going on our clearance chits. Mac has met the Mid/Upper who has joined our crew, but the rest of us haven’t seen him yet. Tomorrow morning we will complete our clearance chits, then off on 10 days leave, before going to a Con Unit. So goodbye to Hixon.
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[underlined] 29th August. [/underlined]
Since I last wrote various changes have taken place. On the morning of the 20th, the day we [deleted] went [/deleted] left Hixon, we reported at the Adjutant’s office for our warrants & passes. He came out very apologetically & said a last minute change of posting had occurred, we were to go on Stirlings & report to a Con. Unit at Woolfox Lodge, after [underlined] 6 [/underlined] days leave. Losing four days leave didn’t seem too good to us, also we had heard pretty duff reports of Stirlings on ‘ops’. Still off we went – the orderly room had told us the Con Unit was near Cambridge & the warrants were made out to there.
I caught the evening train back, but when I went to the Cambridge R.T.O. they said Hixon Orderly Room had boobed, & Woolfox Lodge was near Stamford. As there were no more trains that night, I had to spend the night in the Nissen hut there, rather grim. In the morning I met Johnny & Pinky Tomlin, & we travelled to Stamford, we had to change at Peterborough and there met some more of the boys. At Stamford we phoned for transport, but it was a few hours before it arrived and we had [deleted] dinner [/deleted] lunch in the George Hotel. Mac & some of the others arrived here yesterday and are in the hut near to ours, and today we have been tramping around with our arrival chits, but as the course commences for us tomorrow we won’t bother to finish them. This course has already been on a couple of days, they were as unprepared for us, as we were for coming here.
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[underlined] [deleted] August [/deleted] [inserted] September [/inserted] 5th. [/underlined]
First, I had better bring my crew up to date, as we have a full crew now. Don Keeley the Mid-Upper Gunner, who joined us as we left Hixon is tall & very dark, his face has been sunburnt so much it leaves one with the impression almost of an Indian, he is quiet a good looking chap & seems very decent. Our engineer was allotted to us by the Engineering Leader, and is a Welshman, Jack Barker. He is about 5 ft 5” with a cheerful face, & crisp wavy hair, we haven’t had a lot to do with him yet, as quite naturally he still goes around with the engineers who came with him as a course, from St. Athens, I think I can safely say that we have got a very good crew, though.
This station is far more dispersed than Hixon was. It is cut in half by the Great North Road, to the East of the road is the airfield itself, whilst to the West are the living & communal sites. Our billet is a quarter of an hours walk to the mess, then from the mess it is a 20 min walk, to the other side of the airfield where training-wing is. There are no ablutions on the sites, and washing kit is stolen if it is left in the ablutions by the mess, so we wash from an old rain water tub at the back of the hut.
We have a ground course of a week to 10 days here, comparable to that at O.T.U. only bringing newer work into it. At last I have met the MK. XIV Gyro Bombright, the one I shall actually use on ‘ops’ – it certainly is a bag of tricks. In a day or so we will have our exams, & then commence our flying on Stirlings.
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[underlined] 14th [deleted] August [/deleted] [inserted] September [/inserted]. [/underlined]
The exams are over, everyone passed O.K. and we are now underway with our Flying Conversion. For the engineers, this is when they fly for the first time, as they pass out from there [sic] training school, and come straight here to be crewed up, without ever having flown before. It seems pretty hard on them, to have only a few hours air experience before they arrive at a squadron and go on ‘ops’.
Stirlings are the largest 4 engined bomber there is, and the cockpit is certainly a height from the ground. They have a long undercart, & it is quite a common prang, to see an undercart wiped off, as the aircraft have a tendency to swing & if one brakes severely & swerves, the undercart is quite likely to go. I have to fly as second pilot in there, and attend to boost, revs, flaps & undercart, it takes both of us to get the kite off the deck & they take a hell of a long run.
For a lot of our circuits and bumps we flew over to a Yankee airfield, they had Fortresses. We used to fly there for 2 hours or so & then return. Before Mac had soloed, he was taking off there, & the kite swung viciously & shot across the grass straight towards a Fort. There were some mechanics working on it, and they looked up to see a Stirling thundering at them, without pause they leapt off the wing, fell over picked their selves up & dashed off. If it hadn’t been dicey, it would have seemed ludicrous, however, the screened pilot took a hand, pulled at the controls, & we took off right over the Fort. Mac soloed O.K. a little later, & now we are on X-countries.
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[underlined] 22nd [deleted] August [/deleted] [inserted] September [/inserted] [/underlined]
Our Con. Unit is nearly over, & we shall soon be on an operational squadron, different instructors speak in glowing terms of their old squadrons, & advise us to try & get posted there so we don’t know where we are. At the moment we are commencing our night X country period, this is a tricky airfield to taxi on at night.
Macgillvray has been going out with a WAAF M.T. driver here, & at last it seems like the real thing he is talking seriously of marriage. When he left Hixon, “The Blunder”, went into Stafford with him to stay the night, & then spins a 48 hr pass with him at the Strand Palace. Macgillvray was half & half about telling her to go, however when he arrived here he wrote, & told her he didn’t want to see her again. She wrote back & said as soon as she got a pass she was coming to have it out with him. Then a letter arrived yesterday saying she would arrive in the evening, & would he meet her in town. Macgillvray religiously stayed in camp all evening, & every now & again the phone would ring for him, it was her, phoning from Stamford, & it was really funny to see him keep telling chaps he wasn’t in. Suddenly, the boys came in with the news, she had come out on the 10.30 P.M. bus, & fixed up with the WAAF Officer to stay the night. Macgillvray was off to his billet like a shot. [deleted] Next [/deleted] [inserted] This [/inserted] morning, the Blunder, was in the dining hall, early, & waiting behind the servery, when Macgillvray came in, she dashed out, & told him exactly what she thought of him, in a loud voice. Everyone listened interestedly, & the cooks even ceased serving in order to hear clearly, Mac went deadly white, & after a while walked out, with the Blunder behind. Anyway that was exit to the Blunder. We’ve certainly had some laughs here.
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[underlined] Wednesday [deleted] August [/deleted] [inserted] September [/inserted] 29th. [/underlined]
At last the time has arrived, and what a time I have had to wait for it, 2 1/4 years ago I volunteered for aircrew, & right up till now I have been training for the real job, & we have arrived at last on a squadron. It is a new squadron just forming, No 623, and we are stationed at Downham Market with No 218 squadron. We left Woolfox about 8 AM. on Monday, and caught the 9.15 AM. to Peterborough, where we arrived about 10.15 AM. Deciding to spend the day we trooped out and started off with a large meal in the Silver Grill, a very satisfying start. During the afternoon we looked over the Cathedral, and afterwards went to the cinema to see Tyrone Power in “Crash Drive”, pretty good. Another large meal at the Silver Grill then off on the 6.46 PM. to Downham Market. Naturally the trains were late and we reached Downham Station around 10 PM. & phoned for transport. When it arrived we threw the kit on, we were getting rather cheesed with it by now, after lumping it on & off different trains, and out we went.
It was rather a grim reception, they told us we couldn’t have a meal, & then we found out there was no accommodation for us. So we drove round in the dark in a lorry and they found room for us in ones & twos with the erks, it was pretty grim organisation.
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They locked our kit up in a hut, my overcoat & groundsheet amongst them, so of course it poured of rain during the night & the next morning. Being as the station is all clay like most of the Fen country, it was one helluva mess. Like all Bomber Stations it is horribly dispersed, & we tramped around miserably in the wet, with our arrival chits. The mess was large and new, & very bare, & the food just happened to be pretty grim, so I’m afraid we took a rather poor view of the station, things look a little better now though.
There is a rigged up cinema & I believe they have occasional shows there, but there isn’t a lot of entertainment available. The town [deleted] of [/deleted] or village of Downham is only 15 mins walk from the mess, but there isn’t much life in there. They have one rather ancient cinema with old films & a dance hall, that is always over crowded & 21 pubs, the latter is over shadowed by Stamford’s 63. I don’t think we will be going in there very much. There were three crews arrived from Woolfox together, Pete, Macgillvray & ourselves, Carr is travelling down too today, as he hadn’t finished his flying at Woolfox. We are binding for leave as most crews get it on arrival but our efforts haven’t been successful so far. Our first two ‘ops’ here are mining trips & the pilot was a second “dickey” (pilot) trip, before we start we have to do a bullseye though.
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[underlined] Monday 4th October. [/underlined]
Things are looking quiet a bit better now, the mess seems comfortable, & the food really is good. Up till Saturday we didn’t do much, mainly hung around & had a few lectures, & got our kit into the parachute section. This is a new idea, they have a large room, with lockers, & hang our kit up properly, to dry etc, also testing it each time, then when we want something we go & ask for it & they bring it out. If they have found any stuff U/S they tell us what it is so we can change it, it’s a good scheme. The essentials such as chute, harness, helmet, boots, & ‘K’ type dinghy, are laid out already when the crew is on ‘ops’. No waiting or anything its quite a good scheme. We drew our electrical kit & our new flying boots, from stores, there [sic] boots are the new type with leather boots as bottoms, they have a knife in the side to cut the upper off, should we land in enemy territory, & thus leave a fine pair of walking boots.
On Saturday our bullseye arrived and we were briefed in the afternoon for a 7.50 PM take off. We got away a few minutes late but with no mishap & climbed over the drome then set course for Bedford, this was the starting gate of the bullseye. About 15 mins after we left there, we were coned by about 20 beams & passed on to other cones. We were diving all around the sky but we were
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held pretty well for around 10 – 15 minutes, before we got out. At Portsmouth we were held for around 2 minutes, & again at Beachy Head, then we headed for the target – London. We came in over Croydon & Lewisham to run up to our target, Westminster Bridge. There were about four cones in action with about 30 beams in each, and they all had a kite in, jerking like mad. Whilst they were occupied we were able to slip in smoothly on our bombing run without interference. The searchlights blinded me a bit though and I was unable to get a good line of sight on the bridge, but took the photographs. The black out of London was pretty grim, there were bags of lights about, & the docks were clearly lit up along the river & so were the main railway stations. I don’t think I would fancy an attack on London though, the defences seem pretty hot. After London we went to Bedford again where the bullseye finished, so we had no engagements with fighters. From here to base then up to Goole and back on another I.R. stooge. It was pretty nippy & poor Johnny & Don in the turrets were frozen stiff. There were hardly any fighter interceptions I guess the fighter boys didn’t feel like playing. Anyway back to the bacon & egg, the usual natter with the other crews on various points & then off to bed, for a nice lengthy sleep.
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When we got up at dinner time yesterday it was to be told that we were operating that night – mine laying, it rather shook us. Briefing was at 4 PM. & we learned we were going off the Frisian Is. (a fairly short trip) & taking 6 x 1500 mines. Back to the mess in the bus for the operational meal, then over to the billet, where like old men we clamber into our long flying underwear. Even though it is all pure rayon lined it makes me itch, just not used to long legs & sleeves I guess after jockey shorts & singlet. Our next move is back down to the dressing room in the parachute section, where we collect our kit. We never put the stuff on otherwise we would sweat moving around & then it would freeze when we got up & defeat the clothing. Out to the kite in the bus then, dump the kit on the grass & everyone climbs in for their last minute check of their equipment. Whoever D.I’d the first turret did a poor job, because the reflector sight was left on & the guns weren’t loaded, so I got cracking on those & tested the tuner, then climbed down for my initial bombing check. The engines were run up, tested, then shut down again & we climbed out for a smoke and sign our various forms. The Wing Comdr & Sqdn Ldr drove out to give last minute tips & see if there were any snags, then we all climbed aboard again, fully dressed now, all hatches closed, & taxied out.
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The first aircraft was due off at 7.35 and took off dead on time, we were third, got the green from the ACP opened up & away we went. They are a bit of a job to get off with a heavy load & we didn’t miss the trees by much but we made it. We set course for Cromer, where we were leaving the coast, at 1500 ft, we were staying at that height so Jerry couldn’t pick us up, then climbing to 5,000 ft at the last moment to avoid any flak ships. Everything went fine, poor old Ken was sick again, he certainly has guts to keep flying and navigating when he is often queer. We had to climb quickly at the mining area, & the revs wouldn’t increase for the minute, consequently we nearly stalled. At 1500 ft with that bomb load we would [deleted] dive [/deleted] have dived straight into the waves, it was touch & go for a minute but worked out. The mines were dropped, one [deleted] f [/deleted] could feel them drop, & back we went. When we got back to Cromer there were lots of searchlights & they picked us up, but shut off when we flicked our nav lights on & off. They suddenly coned a single engine kite so we watched it like hawks just in case, there have been a lot of intruders around this area. There was a large fire about 50 miles off the port bow, enemy activity maybe. We landed O.K. though were interrogated & off to the mess, when the siren went so we had just dodged it, still we were safe then. A bang on supper then off to bed for another good rest.
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[underlined] Thursday 7th October.. [/underlined]
Life is proceeding along fairly smooth lines, and we are pretty well settled in. The other night when we did our mining trip, the main force went to Kassel. Clarc Carr went with another pilot to get his second ‘dicky’ trip in. The pilot he went with had 23 trips in & was on the point of completing his tour, but they never returned. Poor old Clarc, he was one of the best chaps I have met, he never got in a temper with anyone, yet he was pretty tough, it’s a shame that such fellows have to go. It really shakes us when fellows we have been with for a long while get the chop, brings it home the hard way. They have sent his crew home on 3 days leave, I don’t know what they are doing after that, whether they are returning to ‘Con’ Unit to pick up a new skipper, or stay here as ‘spares’, the former would be better I should think.
Speaking of spares they grabbed Don, our mid upper to go in somebody else’s crew on Monday for the raid on Frankfurt, as their m/u.g had gone sick. It was rather a nerve I thought both asking a crew to fly with a chap they didn’t know, & worse for the gunner to fly with a strange crew. They did the same thing to Smith, Macgillvrays rear gunner, if they keep this thing up they will
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soon be doing away with the crews & just have a pool that they draw on, I always thought that if somebody was sick in a crew the whole lot was declared U/S. there is a word they have when referring to men they call them ‘bodies’ or ‘bods’, & how right it is, you are just merely a figure on paper. Every morning the big noise walks into the flight office & asks the flight commander “How many crews have you, fully operational?”, and then demands those that aren’t be made so in as short a time as possible. That is all they are interested in, is, how many crews have they available for an ‘op’, regardless of how much flying you’ve done, just recently some of the chaps have been on the main force 3 out of 4 nights. Anyway all kites returned from Frankfurt O.K. and Dan gave us a vivid description, it was very interesting but I guess we will be seeing all we want of it very shortly.
Tuesday night we were on ‘stand down’, but Wednesday we were briefed for a long mining trip to La Rochelle, right down near the Spanish border. There was a hell of a front expected at base around 6.30 so they were rushing us off at 5.50 & come back to meet the front over the Channel & battle through it. There was severe icing from 7 – 15,000 so we had to try & climb above it, not an easy job in a Stirling, the extent was possibly
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right up to the London area as well. The briefing & everything was terribly rushed & we tore around in a mad flap to get everything done, and we were all dressed & on the point of going out to the kite when they scrubbed it, what a life, tonight we were in it again but it was scrubbed once more.
Last night I decided I would see what Downham was like so I ambled in with the boys & was I cheesed. I had seen the [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] film on at the little cinema, so all there was to do was sit in a smokey pub, & swill lousy beer. At last the smoke made my eyes ache so much I came home. Macgillvray was on a short mining trip last night, & a Picture Post reporter was going along. They sent down 4 camera & news men, & took photographs of them having an operational meal & were going to take bags more in the kite, but it was scrubbed, what bad luck, a chance like that only comes once in a life time. The traditional RAF bull was in evidence, for the photograph they had a spotless table-cloth, cream crackers on the table, & a Cpl WAAF waiting on them. Actually we queue up for our meals & a long one at times & eat of [sic] bare dirty tables, & the only biscuits we see are hard dog ones. – We did our first day flying, here, today, took two kites up on air tests, we were doing a loaded climb but that was scrubbed, at least we know what the drome looks like in daylight now.
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[underlined] Sunday October 10th. [/underlined]
We look like having our first leave in a few days we are officially due to go at 0700 hrs on Thursday 14th, until the following Tuesday midnight. The chaps generally get away on the Wednesday, & if they are very lucky & they aren’t on ops on Tuesday they get away Tuesday afternoon which is pretty good. I only hope we are that lucky, Mac has to do a second dicky & if he gets that in tomorrow night we may be on ops the following night (Tuesday) & mess things up a bit. Should it be scrubbed tomorrow, Mac will go Tuesday & we can go Tuesday afternoon, I am afraid we are unscrupulous enough to hope that the weather is lousy tomorrow night. He has got his Flight through at last, & is now ‘Chiefy’ McCann, it is well overdue, but the Canadians get back pay on crowns, one of the numerous ways they are better than the RAF, so he has about £16 back pay to come. The comical part is that after all this waiting & binding now it has appeared in P.O.R’s the stores have no crowns so he is unable to wear it – poor Mac.
Friday night we went on our long mining trip, off Bordeaux in the estuary of the Gironde. We took 4 1,500 mines a fair weight, our all up weight was 69,784 lbs. The briefing was at 6.0 P.M. it shook us but they were having a late take off because the room was nearly full & they were waiting for it to die down as the German fighters have an easy time in the bright moonlight. The bus took
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[inserted] [newspaper cutting showing a WAAF with a mine] [/inserted] [duplicate page]
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us back [missing words] as our operation [missing words] wasn’t until 8.45 we had bags of time to fill in. Lots of Forts went over then & we watched them the next day we learned they had been to Bremen. We had our egg & at 10.25 the transport took us back, we didn’t have to struggle with our kit as we had taken it out in the afternoon. The run up & testing commenced, then shut down while we donned our kit & start up once more. We took off bang on time & 5 mins later set course. Old Petch who was the only other one beside us going swung on take off & hit his undercart against some iron rails for fog lighting & they wouldn’t let him take off, consequently we were the only ones from this station that went.
It was practically 10/10ths cloud down to the coast, it cleared there & I was able to get a wizard pin point on Selsey Bill, our crossing point. The moon was like a searchlight & we felt all naked illuminated up there, it set quite a bit after they told us it did, because there was the time of setting as seen by a ground observer, whereas we were at 12,000 ft. The cloud built up more & more over the Channel until it was 10/10ths again on the French Coast and we were unable to pin point. It remained like that most of the way, the least it was, was 7/10ths, approaching the target area it began
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to clear & I got down into the bombing hatch ready. I was determined to get my night vision up to scratch because if we couldn’t pin point we had to bring the mines back. The green indicator target on the VCP was glaring on my vision panel like a searchlight so I piled my long cushion over it. Then I wanted to see my target map so hopped to switch on the light for a brief second, next the cushion fell down & the light glared again, I dove back at that. I was hopping around like a rubber ball, & sweating lest I should miss the coast & be unable to pin point. Suddenly I saw it, it was pretty dark, I could make it out clearly though, then we passed out to sea over the first island & swung out to rear to clear the island defences. Then altering course we swung in for the mainland once more, I was straining my neck, thats [sic] the worst of the Stirling bomb aimers window, the Lancs have a beauty. After a bit I made it out we were heading up the Gironde estuary, so we made a left hand turn & came bang on the corner of the estuary, which was our pin point. Setting course on a D.R run we dropped the eg O.K. & set course home. Just after we left the flak began to open up on the islands & one searchlight probed around, but they weren’t near us.
Stooging along happily with thoughts of home & bed we were shaken by a show of
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flak suddenly thrown up. We had got a little port of track & were too near Nantes, they had some accurate heavy flak down there, because of the Fort raids on the U Boat Bases. Anyway they were too accurate for our liking the first burst exploded with quite a crash underneath us & burned the kite a bit. We did some hectic weaving & finally got clear, it was a sticky moment though that predicted stuff is deadly they reckon to get you on the first burst. Nothing happened on the way back beyond sighting another Stirling, the cloud thickened over England, & when we reached base they diverted us to Tangmere, although we could have got in. So we had to fly back all the way we had come down to the South Coast. Arriving there after 6 hrs 40 mins flying we found 11 other Stirlings there. We had a meal, & the guy told us you can sleep as long as you like they gave us good accommodation, boy! we needed sleep. Hardly had we laid our heads down when they dragged us out saying we had to return right away. Then we had to wait 3 hours before we were re-fuelled & away. Two squadrons of Typhoons scrambled while we were there, straight off down wind a lovely night. Flying back to base I could hardly keep my eyes open we had had no sleep for nearly 36 hours. We certainly slept well on return. Today there hasn’t been anything doing because of the lousy weather. Jack Spackly & Ron Winnitt have arrived here, they were with me from Manchester & all through Canada, I was glad to see them arrive here, they are in 623.
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[underlined] Sunday October 24th [/underlined]
It is a fortnight since I last made an entry but I have been on leave during that time, & following my maxim of never letting work interfere with pleasure I made no entries in here. I had a fine leave, Mary was able to get the time off & that made it just right we saw a couple of shows, popped around to a few friends & had a wizard time. There was one disappointment overshadowing it though, Ken didn’t come on leave with us, it all began a little while before - . A fair number of times through his earlier training, so he tells me, and during the time we were with him at O.T.U. and on Conversion Unit, he was sick during trips. He tried hard, by doing everything he knew to overcome it, but unsuccessfully. Then on our first mining trip to the Frisians he was sick at the target area & we had to rush to drop them & there was a fair flap resulting as I have previously mentioned in the kite nearly stalling in. Poor Ken, he reckons he is to blame but I don’t think he has anything to worry about, out of the lot I think he did his job the best & the smartest. He was sick a lot on the long mining as well so he reported sick a couple of days afterwards to see what the M.O. could do.
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He was given some Anti-Air Sickness capsules, & tried them without effect, so the M.O. grounded him for a little while. Then they took Ken’s case up a little more & the Wing Comdr said he would have an interview with him. This was the position on the day we were going on leave Tuesday 12th, Mac also hadn’t done his second dicky trip. So Ken was hanging around all morning waiting for the Wing Co to say he would see him, & we were worried in case he wouldn’t catch the 3.51 London train with us. We left him waiting at the camp & told him to whizz down on his bike if there was a chance of catching the train, if not, to follow us down on the later train. On the road we got a lift to the railway station in an army lorry & had a cup of tea in the café next door. Waiting on the platform later, the [deleted] [indecipherable letters] [/deleted] train was almost due in, when Ken came dashing up. Everyone was overjoyed because we thought he had just made it, but he told us the Wing Comdr. had cancelled his leave and he had to remain behind to get 15 hrs Fighter Affiliation in, to see how often he was sick & then go before a Medical Board. My God! as if anyone wouldn’t feel lousy after 15 hrs. Fighter Affil. Also with the weather as it had been, a stinking yellow fog, there didn’t
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appear to be much chance of flying. It was a hell of a twist all the way round, and poor Ken was on the receiving end. There was nothing to be done, however, so off we had to go without him. I felt pretty rotten though seeing him standing there watching us go on leave, & having to ride back & spend a week by himself.
As I said previously I had a fine time, the days flew swiftly as they always do, & the last day arrived. I had arranged with Johnny to meet at 5.30 in Liverpool St to catch the 5.40 P.M. However he arrived up from Bristol early & came over to my place, so we travelled up together, & met Jack on the station. The train was very crowded & we had to bunk in the luggage room, at the first stop, Bishops Stortford, lots of people got out & we got a seat easily. At Cambridge there was about a 20 minute wait so the three of us got out for a cup of tea. A porter told us it wouldn’t be going for a while yet & we had plenty of time. We were only in the canteen for about 3 minutes and as we emerged, saw the train about a quarter of the way along the platform. I broke into a sprint with Jack about 10 yds behind and Johnny 10 yds behind him. Down the platform we raced, porters shouted out “Clear the Way”, and people skipped
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nimbly aside, luckily the platform was fairly empty. Some people shouted encouragement, other shouted “You’ll never make it”, but unheedingly we pounded quickly on.
One American soldier told us it was just like the races, first I flashed past, and he turned to watch me when Jack whizzed by. As he swivelled his head to watch him Johnny shot past, so he ran after us to see the result. Down the whole length of Cambridge platform we raced & closed the distance to about two yards, I had already selected the door I was jumping for, when we reached the blacked out part of the platform. There were no lights at all & it was as dark as the pit, I tried to maintain speed but cracked against a pillar and spun around like a top. So the chase was abandoned & we stood watching the tail light disappear into the darkness. We were in rather a fix as all our kit was on the train, none of us had hats & Johnny had no belt either. After hunting around & getting wrong directions from a few people, we contacted a porter, and old sweat from the last war, who was very helpful & took us to a fellow, who sent off a wire to the different stations telling them to take our kit off the train & send it to Downham. That done, with certain misgivings as to whether it would work out we went over to the A.T.O.
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Here we phoned the camp and told them we would be arriving late & fixed things up. That done we adjourned to a nearby pub & treated our helpful porter to a few. After that it degenerated into a regular crawl, hatless & hands in pockets we rolled round Cambridge. Greatly warmed by the beverage, we didn’t notice the hardness of the bunks, & I didn’t suffer as I did on the previous occasion I slept at Cambridge ATO. We travelled on to Downham on the 8.13 AM. next day & arrived about 9.15. As I feared they hadn’t any of our kit there, so I thought “Goodbye to that”. It rather shook the S.P’s in the guard room when we rolled up with no hats or anything, they didn’t say anything, though, I shudder to think what would have happened at a training unit under similar circumstances. Within an hour of arriving back we were flying on an air test, maybe they thought we would forget how.
We haven’t done much since arriving back, the weather has been pretty rough. The situation regarding Ken appears pretty obscure, he didn’t get much flying in as he predicted, now he is just hanging about to see what the score is. I hope they wont [sic] take him out of the crew he is such a decent chap. Its growing late & the other guys are binding for the lights out, so I guess I’ll put more next time.
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[underlined] Thursday 28th October [/underlined]
The weather still remains duff, after days of rain, it has changed into pretty thick fog every day. The last time we flew was over a week ago when we did a loaded climb in “D”, we now have I for Ink, instead of D. For the time being Ken is out of the crew, we are all praying it wont [sic] be for long although we have another decent chap in his place, Les Gray another Canadian. The whole situation is pretty vague, Ken himself feels he would rather not go on in case he should be sick one time & we wandered into a flak area whilst he was sick. As for us, we would put implicit faith in him whatever happened, & I just hate to lose him. So nobody knows what is going to happen, we’re just keeping our fingers crossed.
To keep ourselves amused now quite a bit of our time is spent in seeing films, I have seen a couple of decent ones on the camp recently. The other day they had the power off all day, no electric light, wireless or anything, I certainly think they ought to get there [sic] fingers out with the lighting in the ante room, it is very dim. Last night seeking amusement further afield, Mac, Jack, Don, Johnny & myself went in the liberty bus to Kings Lynn. We had a good meal when we arrived there, & then saw a decent show, coming out from there, Jack, Johnny & myself
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went into a dance, while Mac & Don went to the Duke’s Head for a meal. I think they had the best of the deal, because the dance was pretty corny, & then when it finished at 10 P.M. we were tramping all over the town trying to find a place with something to eat without success, it was pretty grim.
We got back to the bus O.K. & off we went, by this time a thick mist had rolled in, add to this the fact that our driver had a fair number of drinks under his belt, & we went weaving all over the road. It wasn’t long before we went into the ditch, & a fellow raised a laugh by asking “Does this count as an op?” We lifted the thing out of the ditch, then he found he had taken the wrong turning so back we had to go. It took us 1 1/2 hours to travel a 25 minute journey, we heaved a sigh of relief when we arrived back here. It would be that night too that they had an ENSA show at the camp and who should be in it but Pat Kirkwood, I would have liked to have seen it. Our next leave is due on the 24th November & I have written to Mary & told her to book some shows up. It is rather a long chance, that we will be there on time, even providing all goes well. Still I think it is worth trying. Ah! well I’m tired we didn’t get much sleep last night so I’ll turn in.
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[underlined] Monday November 1st. [/underlined]
Friday was just one of those uneventful days, though the mist seemed to have lifted a bit, a few very keen types were speaking eagerly of the prospects of flying, but the main horde, including all of our crew, nearly, retired to the mess early & buried theirselves [sic] in the newspapers, springing up eagerly to get in the dinner queue. That evening we went into town to see an Abbot & Costello film, it wasn’t bad, with a simple meal of fish & chips, we wandered back, what an uneventful life this is. Saturday was no better, but we really put some work in on the kite harmonising all the guns. We made quite a job of it, having Bill & Jack run backwards & forwards with the harmonisation board. The only thing that marred it was the fact that both Johnny & myself broke our lateral levelling screws on the reflector sights, necessitating harmonising them over again. We have been informed that it is nigh on impossible to get any small nuts & bolts of that type, so we are waiting for them, meanwhile the kite is unable to go on ops without the two reflector sights harmonised. So a kite has to stay back because of two nuts & bolts. Just a classic example of the important part played by the small cogs in the big wheel.
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Yesterday the weather seemed to be better, but there was nothing doing in the morning so we put in quite a bit of work on the kite. In the afternoon though there was a sudden flap, to get as many aircraft airborne as possible, so off we went for our air test. We have a new kite now I Ink instead of D Dog that we used to have, yesterday was the first time we had flown in it. She seemed a pretty decent kite, if we can do a loaded climb on it, & see how much height we can get out of it, it will be O.K. In the evening I just remained in the mess & went over to the hut early, I just seem to be in a state of lethargy here, with no inclination to do anything. We tried to get the fire going in the hut, these stoves are grim things at times. All the time we are chopping fences down & scrounging wood & ‘borrowing’ coal from out of the dump opposite. Most times that we light it, huge clouds of smoke belch out in every direction and there is a frantic rush for the doors to breathe some fresh air in. Last night was an exception though, the fire lit right away, & it gradually warmed up until it was giving out a heat like a blast furnace. It isn’t very often that we get it to go like that though, still I am nearest to it, I had that in view when I chose my bed.
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Today we had quite an interesting time, the morning we spent going round the bomb dumps. Practically all the bomb aimers went out, and at the dump we saw how the carriers are fixed on, & then at the firing point how they are flared. It was quite a sight in the dump to see all the rows of bombs laid out in their rows behind the blast walls. The corporal who was giving us the gen set a 4 lb incendiary off for us to show us how they went, boy they certainly burn, they seem better than the ones the Jerries dropped on London in the blitzes. We handled all the equipment & all of it was quite different from the stuff we had been taught throughout training all that was obsolete a good while before. Finally we went out to the kites to watch them bomb up & then try the various ways of releasing hang ups, it was quite a useful morning.
This afternoon we flew again, to level the bomb sight, & then to continue to Goodestone for a bombing exercise. It went off pretty well, but I don’t know how they are going to figure out where bombs are where, because we didn’t have 3073’s and didn’t inform the range as we dropped each one. As there were at least four kites bombing, they seemed to be showering down. Most certainly there will be some news in the morning.
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[underlined] Thursday 4th November. [/underlined]
There has been some flying recently but not a lot we have been up on a couple of air tests but on the whole the weather is still rather grim. We have been putting in quite a bit of work on the kite, Johnny, Don & myself have had our guns out & cleaned them. They were in a hell of a mess as they were packed with grease, then somebody borrowed our kite & the dope of a bomb aimer fired my guns, mucking things up well & truly. We have got them back again now. Tuesday afternoon they gave us a stand down, its funny no sooner do they say stand down & the fellows have started trekking into the different towns, when the old sun comes out & things are fine again, I bet they gnash their teeth.
All of us except Mac caught the 2.3 P.M. into Cambridge, had a look round, & a decent tea then booked our beds in the W.V.S. Afterwards we saw a show, then diving into a pub for a drink we landed in a flight passing out party. They had just finished their exams at Cambridge I.T.W. & were celebrating, when we entered somebody said “Here’s the gen boys”, at which I nearly fell over. Still they plied us with free beer so that was bang on, they also asked quite a bit about their future training & ‘ops’. Maybe quite a few lines were shot, but we had enough shot at us
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during our training so it was our turn. They all had bright blue uniforms, ‘bully’ white belts, close cropped hair, a general sprog appearance altogether. I shudder to think I was like that once, though not to such a degree, but I was & so must everybody who goes in for aircrew, we didn’t notice anything strange then. They had various toasts & I’m afraid I smiled a little cynically when one chap said “Goodbye to all exams and binding”. Still we had a good time, followed by a meal in a nearby café & then to bed. We rose at 7 AM. & went round to another W.V.S. place for our breakfast, then from there to the station to catch the famous 8.13 AM. to Downham.
They were taking a squadron photograph, & naturally Jack & I had to roll up late and miss being in it – such is life. Last night they had an ENSA show to which we went and surprisingly enough it was quite good, we almost got in without paying, but not quite, it would have helped our financial status quite a bit. Today we had to take the Flight Commander’s kite up an [sic] Air Test it, a doubtful priviledge. [sic] The bind was it was 12 midday when they rang the mess and told us & we were already in the dinner queue, so out we had to go & tramp back to the flights. We came down fairly late so didn’t go back again, but phoned into town & booked our seats for the cinema it was a good film, though I’d seen it before.
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[underlined] Sunday November 7th [/underlined]
Friday was quite a busy day, in the morning there was a smashing lecture by a Dutch F/O who had been shot down in a Lanc. & had got back from Holland. We had been listening to him for about 10 mins & lapping every word, when they came in and dragged us up for flights affil. typical RAF. The bind was there were two crews in the same kite, ourself [sic] & Bennett. We stooged around for over an hour but the fighter didn’t show up, so back we had to go, I was pretty cheesed about missing that lecture though. They put us up again in the afternoon, & after a bit of stooging around, boy! that fighter could fly. I sat in the Wops seat all the time, listening to “Music While You Work” poor old Bennets Engineer was sick, he must be quite a lot because he had a paper bag ready with him. I felt a bit grim once or twice, because they were really throwing the kite around. I am O.K. if I can see out to see whats [sic] doing, but if I am in the middle of the kite unable to look out then its rough.
Ken has gone on leave at last, this was the one he missed when we went, he has gone to Iver, Bucks & to London. I have told him to pop in at my house I hope he does. Meanwhile he has let me ride his bike which comes in very handy at this blasted place. Friday
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night it was given out on the radio that F/Sgt Aaron who used to be with 218 had been posthumously awarded the V.C. The citation said his courage had never been surpassed, & by jiminy they were right. In absolute agony & with severest wounds he had diverted the kite on from Turin to N. Africa, where he died 9 hours after, it was a marvellous show! The air bomber who flew it & landed it, belly landing, with 4,000 lb still on received the C.G.M. & most of the crew the D.F.M. They arrived back from Gibralter not long ago, with tins of sugar & heavens knows what else besides.
All our trips recently have been in other kites ours was U/S, when we came down from a flip they found the tail plane was only secured with about 3 nuts & bolts, we nearly had it that time. Yesterday it was put serviceable again & we had to take her up for a couple of hours. It had rained cats & dogs in the morning so there was a stand down & we were the only joe’s flying, & Saturday afternoon too. We were caught in some hellish storms but dodged them, then found parts with clean weather, & played tag with the cloud tops it was good fun. I broke a bigué and then we couldn’t get the undercart down, so poor old Jack & Bill had to set to & wind it down. We all held our breaths when we came in but it didn’t collapse & we were O.K.
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The Wing Cmdr was attacked by a JU88 on a gardening trip to the Baltic the other night, & they claimed it shot down. Who is to dispute them, I bet they went nowhere near the thing, as everyone else thinks & its popular talk that the Wing Cmdr. may get a gong for it whether its true or not I don’t know. There is something funny going on Stirlings haven’t operated against a land target for a month now, & there are all sorts of rumours going around. We are going on Coastal Command, are going out East, are converting onto Lancs, are towing gliders, are only going to do mining trips, these are but a few of the speculations floating around, there certainly seems to be something in the air. The most obvious solution I think is they are waiting until a .5 mid under gun is fitted, we also have to operate this, quite a few jobs we have now.
It has been bitterly cold all day today, whilst harmonising my front guns I gashed two fingers & I didn’t feel it, nor did it start to bleed for a good while, my fingers were so frozen, it’s a real touch of winter. There are two fires in our huge ante room & that is the only method of heating the place. Consequently there is a circle of fellows packed tightly around it, & another circle around them waiting for someone to vacate a chair at which there is a mad rush. The rest of the fellows just have to hover around hoping to catch a glimpse of the fire or of moving into the outer circle.
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[underlined] Thursday 11th November. [/underlined]
The cold weather continues, it takes ones breath away just walking down to the flight, I am glad there are no ‘ops’ on from this station nowadays. I wonder what is happening, it certainly is funny, Stirlings off ‘ops’ all this time, must be something behind it all. The rumours are flying as thick as ever, but nobody has any definite ‘gen’ at the moment. We will find out in due course I daresay. Yesterday we went on rather an interesting trip, an Eric, which is a daylight bullseye. Naturally the only defences we had to combat were fighters, & we didn’t have any engagements, so everything went smoothly. Our route took us across London three times, & pin pointing became very interesting, as I found the various places I know. The balloons were quite a sight, flying at their operational height, there seemed literally hundreds of them. Old Father Thames looked grand in the sun with the boats chugging slowly up & down, there was a fair amount of shipping off Tilbury & Grays & a convoy at Southend. At Chatham there were a fair amount of naval vessels, but nothing like peace-time. We followed the Thames up to attack our target Tower Bridge, there was a certain amount of difficulty in finding this owing to cloud that had rolled across. We eventually made it though.
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Being used to stooging along by ourselves at night it was a novel experience for us to see about another hundred bombers all around, on the same course & height. It was rather tricky at turning points, some kites E.T.A’s would be due slightly before one’s own & they would turn & come cutting across, diving underneath, or lifting above, there must be some close shaves at night, which the darkness hides. When we returned to base the weather had changed down so we had to stooge around for a bit, but we landed quite safely.
Our leave is due on the 24th, and we are beginning to make our arrangements, praying to the Lord, that nothing crops up & we lose it. I had a letter from Bill today, saying that old Bob Blackburn, who was in our room at I.T.W. had got the chop on his 13th over the Ruhr. He always maintained there was nothing in superstition & insisted on third lights, I guess it was just Fate that it should be his 13th, I hope he managed to bale out safely. We lost a crew the other night on a long mining off the Spanish border, Johnston was flying with them as rear gunner, it was his first trip. He was in Carr’s crew that is the second one gone, these mining trips certainly don’t seem to be such a stooge nowadays.
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[underlined] Sunday 14th November. [/underlined]
What a hum drum life this is, & a cold one. Rush for breakfast, fight to get a wash basin then trudge down to the flights. Knock around in the Bombing Office for a while to see the score then out to the kite for a D.I. It’s a hellish cold job polishing the perspex on the first turret, especially the outside I have to mount a rickety iron ladder, & perched up there 25 ft in the air polish away vigorously with frozen hands, each movement causing the ladder to sway. We generally continue to get back to the flights at 11.15 AM. in time for the NAAFI van. Then back to the mess, with more chances than one of being called back for an air test, just as we are about to go into dinner. The afternoon’s procedure is very similar, if we aren’t flying, it is link or Gee, Astro or something, until we scuttle back to tea. Over to the billet, then, to coax a fire into the stove & all huddle round it. Gangs of fellows scour the immediate vicinity of the huts for wood, posts are pulled up & everything of an inflammable nature seized upon. There is a huge coke dump opposite & every evening sees a dozen fellows or more filling buckets & other articles. These stoves are quite our pride & we take an experts delight in raising a large fire in a short while.
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If we aren’t writing letters we are listening to records on a gramophone that Bill managed to ‘borrow’ from the W/T section, I wish we had a wireless here, though. Sometimes we attend an ENSA show, the one this week wasn’t so bad. Friday afternoon we had a stand down so Jack, Johnny & myself bowled into Cambridge again, following the routine of our previous visit, but not having the luck to fall into any flight parties again. So far this month we have gone in quite a few flying hours the weather has been lousy on quite a few trips. Last night we were stooging round in a rain storm trying to find a bombing target before we were recalled, Saturday night, too. The other day Mac, Johnny Don & myself went up with Wiseman’s crew for Air to Air firing over the Wash. After landing & unloading the blasted ammo. when it came to my turn the Martinet ran out of fuel & had to return.
The other day on our Air Test, Mac feathered the starboard outer to test it, but couldn’t unfeather it. After a few unsuccessful attempts we gave up & landed with it feathered, & got down O.K. too. If it isn’t the undercart refusing to come down, its something else. Still old I Item is quite a good kite now, & we can get a fair turn of speed from it.
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[underlined] Thursday November 18th [/underlined]
Quite a lot of things have happened in the few short days since I made my last entry. First like a bolt from the blue came the news that the squadron was being disbanded. It was quite a shock we are supposed to be moving to Chedburgh shortly & there given individual postings. Everyone is thoroughly cheesed about it, we were just getting settled in here too, all the top bags, Bombing, Nav & Gunnery Leaders are fine fellows, one couldn’t wish for a better bunch, I guess that’s typical of the RAF when one gets a piece of cake, they aren’t allowed to eat it. 214 squadron which is at Chedburgh is coming here in our place & we are gradually breaking up. They say we are converting to Lancs & if so it may be time that Stirlings are gradually dieing [sic] out of Bomber Command & the Lancs taking their place. If we are moving in a few days, as the tale says, then it will mess our leave up, after all our arranging, its driving me nuts, we never get a leave that works out smartly. Johnnie Smythe a Nav. from Sierra Leone has had a letter from the people there saying they want to adopt 623 Sqdn. & have collected 100 to £150,000 for our benefit – phew! that’s over £250 per head ground & air crew, of course it would be used for the betterment of the squadron, building a wizard crew room, & various other things.
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The Wing Cmdr. has been up to Group to raise Cain, I don’t know if he has had any satisfication, but I & everyone else hope we stay here together. Monday night we had our Sqdn party, strictly bachelor, the air crew paid for it all, & invited the ground crew to show their appreciation for their maintenance of the kites. There was lots of beer & everyone was happy especially old Mac he was well under, a gang of them started down the mess before the party, then rang Downham for a taxi to take them to the party 200 yds away. There was a championship table tennis match between a couple of top notches in peace-time & then the winner issued a challenge. Ginger Morris who used to play for England, had been waiting for this to just bowl out & beat him. The only fault was Ginger had been imbibing heavily & consequently could hardly see the ball, so lost easily. At 10.30 P.M. it broke up and Mac got in at 5 AM. he had wandered over to the mess to shoot the bull & fell asleep there.
Poor Johnnie has been feeling grim and was very bad the other day & went sick, & they chopped him in dock with flu. Jack was also feeling bad but has recovered, but Don is in bed very queer & I feel it myself, what a crew, but this place is enough to give people all the illnesses under the sun.
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Tuesday night, six Canadians came & gave a concert show, they were a travelling party all [indecipherable word] & they put up quite a performance too. Last night there was an ENSA show which I thought rather good, so we haven’t done too bad for entertainment. Today held a big shock for quite a few people, Group came through to say there was a big do, & 218 & 623 were on the main effort. All crews available were put on, & after 6 weeks they thought it was a laugh & a joke, but realised it was true. Mac was due to go on a second dickie with Sqdn/Ldr. Overton, but it was scrubbed at the last minute as Overton’s Navigator was sick. Petch has gone with Flt/Lt. Willis, & Macgillvray with Flt/Lt. Nesbitt, I hope the morning saw them all back safe & sound. Apparently we are still an operational squadron, but for how long is the question. There is also a fair amount of mining & a new crew is taking our kite, so Don & I were out there this afternoon checking on the turrets.
The other afternoon we had a wizard lecture from a Lieutenant in the Navy. He had quite a few experiences to recount he had been on the Greton in the Graf Spee battle & in the U-Boat War, & seen quite a bit of excitement in the Med., he was very interesting to listen too. [sic] His story showed both sides of the picture too, we weren’t always winning. He said a good word for mining, the results of which were definitely assessed as 1 ship sunk every 11 mins which is good going.
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[underlined] Sunday November 21st. [/underlined]
The squadron definitely is disbanded, though in the meantime it is fully operational. The Wing Co. leaves on Dec 6th to some O.T.U. I believe. Sqdn/Ldr Smith adding his D.F.C. to his D.F.M. is going to an O.T.U. also, - as a flight commander, he has both his tours completed now. The Navigator Leader has already gone, & the Wing Co. has been asking crews what squadrons they would like to be posted to, but nothing is promised. Anyway it appears we are remaining in 3 Group & not going onto Lancs, so that is one theory squashed. Right now we are just praying that nothing will crop up to cheat us of our leave, there are only two days to go. We have arranged to get on the 11 AM pay parade Tuesday & hope to catch the 11.48 AM London train.
Three kites were lost from here on Thursday’s trip to Ludwigshaven – one from 218, & two from 623. Poor old Ray Bennett was one, Johnny Smythe was his Nav. I only hope they baled out, F/Lt Wallis was the other & Petch was with him on a second dicky. That leaves only Macgillvray & us with complete crews from Hixon. P/O Ralph & F/Lt Nesbitt turned back with engine trouble, so it wasn’t too good for 623. It was even grimmer on Friday night, they were going to Leverhulme or something a small place just north of Cologne, & a pretty easy trip it turned out.
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623 only managed to get two kites off the deck, & there was hell to pay, there was quite a bit of finger trouble, though. They said Group sent through the bomb load too late, but then it was the armament officers first experience of bombing up for ‘ops’. Bombs were being sent out to kites that were U/S with engine trouble when others were standing there with engines running merely waiting for bombs, consequently most of them never got off in time. They told one chap to take off 5 mins after time & catch the force up, he told them what to do. Another just got off & set course over the runway in his take off. Wiseman was waiting for one more 1,000 lb H.E. when the Armament Officer said that’s O.K. take off without it, this made the C. of G somewhere in the region of the rear turret – Wiseman’s reply was rather flowery. So poor old Mac didn’t get off again & still has to get his second dicky in. All the kites got back safely but were diverted owing to local fog, one of 218’s was pretty shot up by flak, and pranged at Chedburgh. The kites that were on mining also returned safely. Nesbitt has been told that his tour is completed now, so they are screening him after 24 trips, still that’s enough for anyone, and if I had that number under my belt I would feel very contented.
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Johnny seems a lot better now, we have popped in to see him each day, & he is having a regular rest cure, he intends trying to come out tomorrow as he doesn’t want to miss his leave – nor do any of us – keen types. Ken & I went to the camp cinema the other night, quite a good show but the place is like an ice box. There is a real fiasco here, the water supply is being cut right down, apparently the camps normal consumption is 52,000 gals a day, & the water company will only supply 10,000 gals daily, until their reservoir rises. Consequently all water on the sites is cut off & we cant [sic] have any baths or showers, & now we have been informed we are not supposed to wash or shave in the mess ablutions. This means not washing or showering day in, day out, I wonder what the M.O. thinks of it! There are a couple of water carts that come round the sites & people fill up old cans etc. Even of we hand round all cans we are never on the sites, our whole day is spent down the flights or in the mess. The whole situation is preposterous and it’s a pretty poor show for an RAF camp.
I went into town last night, for the first time for over a week, it was a real pea souper of a night & we muffled right up. The film was quite a decent one, & a drink after made a little break out of the monotony.
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[underlined] Wednesday December 1st. [/underlined]
Another fair interval since I last made an entry, & for the old reason that I have been on leave, we arrived back last night. After all the sweating & heartbreaking we eventually got away on Tuesday, & we did sweat as I will account. On the Sunday, before going on leave, when I last made an entry there had been rumours of something big coming off the following day, as all Ground Crew N.C.O’s had been ordered to have their kites in really tip top condition. Monday dawned a thick misty day, visibility wasn’t more than 50 yds, Jack & I danced for joy as Mac couldn’t possibly do a second dicky that night & we would definitely go on leave on Tuesday, what a fine world it was. Down at the flights a rude shock was awaiting us there was ‘ops’ on that night & Mac was going as second dicky to Sqdn/Ldr. Overton. Everyone thought it must be a farce, it was bound to be scrubbed, the Met reckoned it would clear though. However out we went to the kite & gave it a thorough D.I. because Sgt Ralph was taking it. Gradually the weather cleared, and gradually our hopes sunk, because if Mac got his trip in we would be definitely on “ops” the following night instead of on leave. Every few moments we would gaze at the cloud formations & the fast disappearing mist & try to cheer each other up, although we all felt we had had it.
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We had found out all tanks were to be filled that meant Berlin or Italy & it all pointed to The Big City. Briefing was at 2.30 P.M. & off they went & I went out to the kite again, Johnny was still in dock as his guns had to be checked but Johnny Hyde the Gunnery Leader was out there to do them. At this time the sky clouded over really black, & everyone was certain the Met had boobed. When large drops of rain fell I could have danced for joy, but as though the Met had exercised a superhuman influence the skies miraculously cleared as take off time grew near. The crew came out to I Item & I spoke to the Air Bomber for a bit & happened to see the Nav’s charts, & Berlin it was. I wondered whether Mac was twittering inside, Overton was taking Les Gray, our Nav. who had only done a Nickel before. What a task without even having done a Mining to navigate to Berlin & back. When the actual take off started the weather wasn’t too good but they went, they scrambled at 5 P.M. & set course 5.30 P.M. with our best wishes. During the evening five kites returned early but old Mac wasn’t amongst them, they were mainly 218’s kites too. So off we went to bed, hoping to hear old Mac come banging in at about 2 AM he did. It had been a fairly quiet trip he said, cloud cover all the way, & no fighter sightings. Les’s navigation had been bang on & he was personally congratulated by the Groupie.
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There had been a lot of reporters and photographers there & someone said a B.B.C. chap, lots of lines were shot anyway, we listened to all the story & then sank back asleep. When the morning came it seemed as though our luck was really out, it was clear as a bell. Jack & I grabbed two bikes & dashed down to the Flights to see whether we were on or not. What an anxious half hour that was, the Wing Co. rang for P/O Ralph who was acting Flt/Comdr. then & he came out with lots of papers etc. our hearts sank, but then he said “Nothing on, only mining” we could hardly believe our ears. Back we tore & dressed up for pay parade & a speedy get away. We reckoned without Pay Accounts, with their typical efficiency they paid us at 11.45 AM instead of 11 A.M as it was supposed to be. So we missed the 11.47 train, still nothing mattered then we were off & going home. Scorning the RAF food we had a dinner in Sly’s Café then a drink & homeward bound.
I had a fine leave although the weather wasn’t so hot, that night (Tuesday) it was Berlin dunno if any Stirlings went but we didn’t send any at all. During the leave I saw quite a few shows, among them the new film “For Whom The Bell Tolls”, also read the book, both very good. We arrived back O.K. without any incidents we only stopped 5 mins at Cambridge so couldn’t recreate our previous escapade.
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Johnny was looking very seedy going home, as he had only come out of the dock that day, he wangled round the M.O. He came back looking fit though, we all seemed to have reduced our colds. Ken had been down to Pastow for his Medical Board, & has been taken off flying. So we have definitely lost him, it is goodbye to a fine Navigator & one of the finest fellows it has ever been my priviledge [sic] to meet. We are lucky to have an equally good chap to fill his place they are much alike in many ways. Old Jack Yardley the W/Op who is in our hut & also suffered with air sickness went down with Ken & he is also off of flying.
This morning we did the inevitable Air Test, it always happens the day one returns from leave. I Item is still here, someone buckled a wing tip whilst we were away, there are only four kites left now, they have ferried all the others away. So we should be leaving in a few days, but where to nobody knows yet, rumours are flying as thick as ever. One thing that is definite 214 Sqdn are arriving here on Monday so we will have to leave by then. It is so cold as anything today, there was a frost like snow this morning. If this weather continues & gets worse during the winter I would welcome a posting to Italy or somewhere warm. Talking of warmth, I think I’ll turn in, bed is the best place to warm anyone up.
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[inserted] [newspaper cutting about the raid on Berlin with a photograph of the crew led by Flying Officer Wiseman, and including Sergeant Twydell, engineer; P/O Craig, Sergent Foreman, Sergeant Copley F/Sergeant Brasington, F/O Theriault, and Flight Sergeant Macgillvray, second pilot] [/inserted] [duplicate page]
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[underlined] [missing words] December. [/underlined]
The cat is out of the bag, & there were a few surprises in the bag too, the gen has been dished out as to where we are all going. We all leave tomorrow on the 2 P.M. train, except for those who were due for leave & they went today, (our luck was in we were the last ones to get away, all leave was cancelled after we went). The Wing Co. went a few days ago to 90 Sqdn at Tuddenham, & P/O Ralph, Macgillvray & somebody else are going as well. After all this time then we are parted from Mac, it’s a pity, we two crews have been together a fair while, we are the only ones from Hixon now. By the by. Macgillvray appeared in the newspapers, there was a large photograph of old Wiseman & crew being interrogated upon their return from Berlin, & Macgillvray was in as second pilot quite celebrities now. That B.B.C. chap was here he gave a hell of a ‘bully’ story after the 1 P.M. news the following day.
To resume we and about six other crews are off to Waterbeach to convert onto Lanc IIs. As they have Hercules engines, we wont have Jack, as he won’t have to take another course. Four or so of the crews have gone on leave, today as they are due for it & they arrive there a week after us. It came as quite a surprise we all thought we were set on Stirlings, it will be quite a
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bind, circuits & bumps & screened cross countries all over again, oh hell! There is a squadron there as well 514, I wouldn’t mind being put on that, pray to the Lord we are. Four chaps are being transferred to 218 Sqdn. Overton & Wiseman are amongst them, they say Overton will have to revert to F/O. Nickie Nesbitt went back to P/O & Vickers the Engineering Leader did also, daresay they will have ‘em back again soon though. Some of the postings were to 199 & 149 Sqdns I believe. Last night we were put on the main effort, right in the middle of getting cleared from here, quite a flap. It was only 2, 4 & 6 tanks and 8 x 1,000 lbs & 6, x 5,000 lbs, as it must have been to these rocket gun emplacements they are building to shell London. It was scrubbed though, the minings went & poor old P/O Puch got the chop, his B/A Sutherland was a good guy, they were only an a short mining, too, quite shaking.
The latest Berlin raid where they lost 41 two war correspondents are missing, one got back though, gee! if they were paying that reporter £200 for going on a mining trip, heavens knows what those boys were raking in. One thing is sure from the way the Lancs are operating nearly every night whatever the weather, our tour will be over pretty soon one way or the other. We were paid today & finally cleared from here, last night we went into town to the dance & to the Crown for a farewell ‘do’ before we said goodbye to the hallowed precincts of Downham.
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[underlined] Thursday December 9th. [/underlined]
This entry is being made at Waterbeach, another new station this is my eighteenth station since I have been in the RAF, like Crosby & Hope I certainly get around. We left Downham Monday dinner time, and in the rush I missed saying cheerio to Ken, and was sorry but I have written to him. As usual when they tell you transport will be waiting, there was none, so we walked it was about 15 mins to the billet. The tales of the billets etc. being good inside the camp are quite true, the only snag being we aren’t in the camp. Our quarters are in the inevitable huts “Con Sight” as we call it though it is listed as Conversion Site. The Con Unit (1678) is almost entirely separate from the squadron we have our own mess about 5 mins walk from the hut. The food is good, better than at Downham, but the mess is bare, empty & cold. Not being many crews here either, it is generally isolated, & not very cheering. The squadron have a smashing mess in the camp, with living quarters above, very handy, wish we were in it.
I think the most shaking thing is that breakfast finishes at 7.45 A.M. right on the dot, so we have to be up really early. Then breakfast over we wash & are supposed to be at the flights at 8.15 A.M. It is a 25 min walk too, so we have to start out in time. There is [underlined] P.T [/underlined] 8.15 till 8.30 AM. then lectures.
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The walking is rather a bind as we didn’t expect it here, poor Mac is looking somewhat slimmer, as he lost his bike at a [deleted] [indecipherable word] [/deleted] wild party, before leaving Downham. Tuesday was occupied with filling in the arrival chits as usual, then yesterday & today we have had ground lectures, weather permitting we may commence our circuits & bumps tomorrow. There was nothing new in the ground work, the bombing side of the Lanc. is simpler than the Stirling. We carry cookies on there now, there is no second pilot, so I have lost my comfortable seat. This is compensated by the much better bombing compartment, there is a fine huge vision panel in the nose, no more straining one’s neck to get a line on the target. One also enters the turret from the bombing compartment, so there is no chance of being locked in the turret. The performance of these aircraft are pretty good, especially speed & climbing power.
Tuesday afternoon we went into Cambridge, there is a pretty decent bus service to & from there. In the village there isn’t a lot of life but a couple of decent pubs do a good trade. I have just heard from Bill Taylor, & he tells me poor old Jack is missing now, he was on the same squadron as old Bob Blackburn who is now reported killed. Its pretty grim to hear of the old pals getting the chop, wonder if I’ll be alive at the end.
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[underlined] Monday 13th December. [/underlined]
The weather at this place is as bad as at Downham, I didn’t think there could be another place as bad. Mac’s day circuits & bumps are now complete & we are ready for a day cross country which finishes the day flying & then on to night c & b’s. I rather like the lay out of this station, it is very neat and compact, of course that is because it was a peace time station. I wish we were billeted in the camp although I understand the food in the permanent mess isn’t as good as in ours. On Friday the Duke of Gloucester came down to inspect the camp, we knew a full 24 hrs before who it was, the old grape-vine certainly defeats security. On the Thursday morning the Bombing Leader asked us who it was as he wasn’t able to find out. Our six crews were joined for a cheering party we had to line up opposite a line of WAAF’s at the gate & cheer when he left. I haven’t been on P.T. yet I have a hard enough job to get up in the mornings. Mac has managed to scrounge an official bike now, that is one thing he moves fast for. Every Wednesday they have a C.O’s parade and march past, there is a fair amount of bull here considering they have an operational squadron, I guess it is because they have the Con Unit still, yes, the more I think of it, the more easier 623 appears.
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[underlined] Tuesday December 21st. [/underlined]
We are now back on an operational squadron again, 115 Sqdn at Witchford near Ely. Our course finished here last [inserted] Sunday [/inserted] night and yesterday & this morning we were completing our clearance chits. It wasn’t such a bad place, & the work was pretty easy, the ground work was nothing new at all, except a new photo flash fuse. Our first flip was a day cross country at 23,000 ft, a really binding trip, 10/10ths all the way, just sit there and freeze about 25o below. Then after the night circuits and bumps, we were on a Bullseye, Sunday night. Or rather a Flashlight exercise, because the I.R. bombing is abandoned over London, & they have a target of three red lights to simulate T.Is, & at various distances of a couple of miles altogether were white lights flashing various Morse characters, so on the photograph, one could tell in theory how near the bombs would have landed. That trip was a cold one as well but we had a hot time with the defences, a solid belt of searchlights all the way round, & a hell of a cone sight over the target, we were picked up on our bombing run & they sure dazzled me. We rather preferred to remain at Waterbeach with 514 Squadron owing to the compactness of the station. They don’t operate such a lot, the other night they landed at Downham Market, practically all kites were diverted. It was a black night, & the Met boobed badly, all England almost was fog bound, & we have heard from reliable sources that 65 kites either crashed or had to be abandoned owing to weather. With the 30 kites lost that made 95 kites, the public will never know of that.
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The transport brought us by road from Waterbeach it is 13 miles & when we reached Witchford there was a howling gale & the rain was lashing down. Nobody knew where we were supposed to be billeted & we were driving around the place, dashing in & out of huts, until soaked to the skin, we eventually found one. Roger’s crew is in the hut with us, we are on 4 site & it is about two miles from the mess. I have seen some dispersed stations but this is the worst of them all, the mess is a 30 min walk from the flights as well, we certainly use Shanks Pony here, it is killing Mac he hasn’t done so much walking for ages. The usual thick mist is everywhere that is the trouble in East Anglia. Everything about the station & squadron seems to be grim, at one time it was a happy squadron & contented, but this station has got everyone down a lot; they have only been here 3 weeks. To give a typical example of the way the place is run, they moved here via Berlin. The crews were sent off to Berlin from this base & on return had to land here, what a fiasco that must have been, tramping round in the dark trying to find billets etc. Leave here is about every 12 weeks, its incredible, they don’t appear to worry whether you have any or not. There is no operational meal before ops, just tea & a couple of sandwiches & the rations are pretty small, & no coffee. No transport is organised to take us into Ely, & there are hardly ever stand downs, there appears to be a complete lack of interest in air crew, oh! well I’m too cheesed to write any more.
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[underlined] Monday 27th December. [/underlined]
Xmas is over now, & I’m none too sorry really, it wasn’t a lot to shout about. Now we are settled down a bit better, but its hard to shake off the feeling of being cheesed here, everyone is, the old chaps of 115 Sqdn, the fellows on 196 the sqdn that was here before, & ourselves the mix crews from 623. The Bombing & Engineering Sections are in the same room, the Bombing Leader is a decent chap, but I don’t see how you can get to know the other bomb aimers, they don’t make any advances or anything. We flew the second night we were here on another Flashlight exercise, & were getting around O.K. but as we were running in towards London for the target, all the searchlights began homing us away from London, so we realised there was an air raid in progress, & beetled back to base. There they told us over the W/T to continue with our exercise & we had to beetle up North & keep cracking around. The trip took us 6 1/2 hours & they didn’t give us any rations at all, I was absolutely frozen, & had an electric waistcoat on, but that didn’t keep my legs warm, I was glad when we landed. On Thursday night, Mac did his second dicky they have to do them on these kites as well, of all places it was Berlin again. Thats [sic] two second dickeys he has done there now, packing ‘em in alright. I think it is a terrible feeling waiting around for them to come back I would rather go myself, he returned O.K. there was one missing from here.
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On Xmas Eve afternoon Bill & I cycled the 26 mls to Waterbeach & back to collect the Xmas mail for about a dozen fellows, we could have used a truck coming back. That night we all went into Ely to the Lamb Hotel to commence the celebrations. What a night it was, & what a head I had next morning. On Xmas Day the officers mess invited us over in the morning then came over to our mess in the afternoon, it was more of a drunken brawl than anything else. Bags of broken bottles & glasses, it is grim like that, we were supposed to serve Xmas dinner to the airmen, but I felt too grim to go across. Our tea that night was really wizard, it was served buffet form, & there were sausage rolls, cakes, pastries, sandwiches, sardine on toast, spam & chopped egg, trifle & cream cake it was grand! There were two fights, because tempers were rather frayed after drinking. Afterwards we all tramped into town to have our Xmas Dinner for the crew, in the Lamb Hotel, it was pretty good, we were in bed pretty early that night. Boxing Day was very quiet, we had our turkey dinner at 7.30 P.M. it was well served, afterwards there was a dance in the mess. There wasn’t a single decoration in the mess for the Xmas just lovely & bare. Anyway that was the end of the festive season, & this morning we donned battle dress once more & got cracking on the same old grind.
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[underlined] Thursday 30th December. [/underlined]
We have made a start at the squadron now, they don’t waste a lot of time, last night we began ‘ops’ here with a trip to Berlin. The pre-briefing was at 1.30 P.M. & Les & I got cracking on the maps and charts before all the crews arrived at 3 P.M. for the main briefing. Our route was worked out to try to bluff Jerry in believing the attack was being carried out on Leipzig or Magdeburg. We went straight for those places and as Mossies opened the dummy attacks on both towns we suddenly turned north & headed for the “Great City”. Taking it on the whole it wasn’t a bad trip twenty kites lost when over 700 were sent.
The trouble with these early take offs is that we don’t get a meal before we take our kites away & start dicing. At the end of briefing there is a mad rush to grab a cup of tea and a couple of sandwiches at the back of the room; then down to the locker room to change. Out we lumber to the transports, & they take us to the waiting kites. Here we dump all our heavy kit & climb in to check all our equipment & run the kite prop to see everything is bang on. Then we shut her down, & climb out to complete our dressing, a few minutes for a smoke for those that need it, then 20 minutes before we are due to take off we climb aboard again & start up. As the time approaches we taxi out & take our place in the line, then one by one [missing words]
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Round & round we circle, then as the time for setting course arrives we make the last circuit and away we go. By this time we are at about 13,000 ft & generally by the time of crossing the English coast we are a little [deleted] of [/deleted] over 15,000 ft. I carry out all my Bombing checks & put the front guns on Fire, all ready for something, we begin our vigilance here, as the German fighters often operate right across the North Sea. At our turning point we are at our operational height of 20,000 ft, & we set course for the Dutch Coast. Approaching the coast the flak can always be seen coming up from Texel or other equally well defended spots. The cloud was 10/10ths awarding us a natural protection from the searchlights.
Every now & then along the south some place would start throwing up flak, if it came close we weaved but generally didn’t bother. Quite a few times a fighter would drop three flares, lighting up quite an area of sky, if they were too near for safety we corkscrewed quickly, with everybody searching the sky carefully. The searchlights would also shine on the clouds in large concentrations causing us to be silhouetted to any fighter above. Two markers were dropped on the route to guide us away from hot spots, we didn’t see the first, but the second at Leipzig was plainly visible. The dummy attacks had commenced & there were some red & green T.I’s & a few bombs, they were certainly throwing up some flak, we had to nip in between Magdeburg & Leipzig, it was very warm & we got away as soon as possible.
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Just after leaving Leipzig I had a momentary panic when three ME110’s came whizzing past us going the opposite direction to Leipzig, I guess they came haring back later when Berlin opened up. We were running into a head wind coming up to the target & I thought we were never getting there; the T.I’s were burning there, & the cookies exploding, & the flak was pouring up, although it wasn’t too heavy; but we never seemed to be getting any nearer. As we eventually approached I could see the glow of a large fire reflecting on the clouds. Then “Bomb Doors Open” – “Running Up”, “Left Left” “Steady” “Bombs Gone” “Bomb Doors Closed” & away we went. The return journey was much the same as the outward, but we found the W/Op had turned the inter-wing balance cock the wrong way & we had lost 200 galls. So we had the worry of whether we would be able to make it or not. We crossed the English coast O.K. and were trying to make base, when the fuel warning lights started to flicker meaning we were almost out. There we were at 400 ft to [sic] low to bale out & unable to use up petrol to climb, just expecting the motors to cut at any moment. Suddenly a drome appeared & we screamed in there without announcing or anything but we were down & that was the main thing. It was a P.F.F. place Warboys, we didn’t get the egg there & had to sleep in a chair in the mess, so it wasn’t so good, next morning we flew back to base, & had a badly needed sleep. There was one missing from here which wasn’t so bad, however that was our first major ‘op’ over.
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[underlined] Monday January 3rd [/underlined]
Well that’s another year gone and 1944 is here, I wonder if this year will see Germany out of it, somehow I doubt it, though I think she will be well on the way. Last Friday ‘ops’ were on, so we had visions of seeing the New Year in over the other side. Briefing was at 3 P.M. again and the target was Frankfurt, it was an attempt to fool the Jerries and make them think we were going to Berlin, somehow I don’t think it would have been successful, anyway just as briefing it was scrubbed and we didn’t cry over it. There was a New Year’s Dance on in the gym, so we went there and got pretty merry, eventually getting into bed around 4 A.M.
Getting up well the worse for wear in the morning we were shaken to find there were ops on again that night. Pre briefing was 1.30 P.M. but the main briefing wasn’t until 9 P.M. there being an operational meal before we took off. The target was once more Berlin, this time we were going in from the north with a dummy attack on Hamburg though I wasn’t so sure that that would fool them. Take off was at a quarter to one in the morning a hell of a while to wait up till. This time they sent the fighters out to meet us and the fun started right over the Dutch coast. The flak was as eager to greet us as ever.
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About 10 mins after we had crossed the Dutch coast I saw a burst of tracer go streaking across the sky then suddenly flames burst out on a Lanc & she slowly peeled over & went spiralling down through the clouds, then a few seconds later a huge glow shot up – poor devils. It couldn’t have been more that five minutes afterwards when Johnny the rear gunner screamed “Corkscrew Port”, I thought “here it comes” & gripped on. I guess whoever they are they all feel a bit of panic at such moments, I know the flesh on my back crawled as I kept anticipating the feeling of bullets ripping into my back. However we dodged him, it was a JU88 who came screaming down and fired a burst at us, he broke off the attack though. The flak in the target area was quite a bit heavier this time & it was really close, the return journey took us a fair bit longer as we were pushing against the wind. There were quite a lot of fighters lobbing down three flares at a time, it certainly is a hell of a feeling when one is battling along in the dark, & suddenly one is lit up as plain as daylight, & the feeling that every fighter in the sky is leering down at you is no fun. Mac generally swears and corkscrews viciously. We got back to base without mishap, shot the lines at interrogation then trotted off to another bacon & egg meal. There were 28 missing on that raid out of about 450 kites so it was heavier losses, none were missing from here which was good but 3 didn’t take off, and 3 turned back. ‘We got to bed at 10.30 A.M.
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At 2 P.M. we were awakened by the Tannoy blaring for all Navigators to report to the briefing room at 4 P.M. for pre-briefing. My God! there were ops on again & we were feeling nearly dead from lack of sleep already. It certainly set me back when going into briefing the target map showed Berlin again, gee! three times in five nights to the Great City it was pretty rough. Take off was at 12.20 P.M. because we were fighting to avoid the moon, even then it wasn’t set when we took off, but it had set before we reached the enemy coast. Things were pretty lively because there was a ninety mile an hour gale blowing and we had to go straight to Berlin, with no dummy attacks, & boy were they ready for us. For miles around the target it was like day with lanes of flares and kites whizzing around. It certainly was hectic over the target, I was expecting a fighter attack at any moment, & when the bombs had gone I got in the front turret & scared old Mac by flashing the guns backwards & forwards. Altogether we were in the thick of it for nearly 25 minutes it seemed like 25 years. I thought we would never get clear of there. It took us 2 1/2 hours [deleted] for [/deleted] to reach the target & 4 1/2 hours returning, because we were battling almost head on against the gale, it seemed an eternity before we reached the French coast. We reached base O.K. & tumbled in at 10.30 A.M. & boy! did we need the sleep, we lost one from here & I believe 27 on the whole effort.
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[underlined] Saturday 12th January [/underlined]
Its quite a while since I wrote here, but as usual I have been on leave in the meantime. There were no ops on the Tuesday after I last wrote, but on Wednesday there were. It was to Stettin & the route was all around Norway & the Baltic, then the stream suddenly headed south to Berlin, where Mossies started a dummy attack & the main force suddenly swung west to Stettin. The trip was terribly long 8 hr. 32 mins at the minimum & it was cutting it fairly fine with a full petrol load. At the last moment the route was lengthened by another three quarters of an hour, so that if we had made the trip we would have landed in the North Sea, consequently all Lanc IIs were scrubbed, the I’s & III’s went though & only lost 15 I wouldn’t have minded going. The next morning at two hours notice we were told we were on 7 days leave & had to rush around to get away that day.
We returned Thursday night, & got to bed about 1 A.M., then as it was the 4th day after the full moon, we were sure there would be no ops. Because 4 days before & 4 days after the full moon is the moon period & there are no ‘ops’. However Chopper Harris shot us up by putting ops on, after the morning air Test we dashed off for dinner then Les & I went back for 1.30 pre-briefing. The target was Brunswick, the place that the Forts went to a couple of days previously. They attacked aircraft factories about 20 miles from Brunswick, & we attacked the town.
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It was a real daylight take off, & when we were approaching the Dutch Coast it was quite light behind us, so I was expecting a head on attack. The weather was quite clear so the searchlights were active, there was quite a cone on Texel, & three large dummy fires as well, they must have quite a faith in the dimness of Air Bombers to bomb there. Our route took us quite close to Bremen, & there was a T.I. marker there cascading yellow. Later as we were getting close to the target we had to come really close to Hanover, & they were pretty active there. She had a hell of a lot of searchlights and if anyone strayed across the old flak would poop up. The attack started when we were a quarter of an hour from there, down went the T.I’s & up came the old flak. At briefing they said it would be pretty quiet, and that the Americans had destroyed 150 fighters for us – lovely it sounded. However there was quite a bit of flak and damned accurate, & more fighters milling around there us & other crews had seen before. I saw four kites go down in flames, [inserted] & burst [/inserted] on the ground, it was really grim. There was a lovely fire burning a huge thing with the green T.I’s in it, then a minute later our load went crashing down to help the conflaguration. The return journey wasn’t so bad there were numerous red flares dropped that burnt for a very short [deleted] [indecipherable letters] [/deleted] while, not like the usual fighter flares. We landed at 10.20 A.M. came butting back to beat the moon rise, we lost Blackwell & Christianson two senior crews, which was pretty grim, 38 [missing words], it certainly was no easy raid.
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[underlined] Tuesday January 18th. [/underlined]
The weather certainly is grim, we haven’t flown since Friday, there has been a thick fog, and these last two days it has rained, but tomorrow promises to be clear so I guess there will be ops on then. According to the Press the Brunswick raid was fairly easy, they certainly harped out some guff, one of them said there were no fighters over the target & the Luftwaffe was fooled. I was looking at the official list of combats & sightings over the target, & there really were some. One chap from here claimed a confirmed & a probable. Three times over the target Bill the W/Op. happened to knock our huge nose light on, it put five years on my life, ‘cos the first time nobody knew who did it, & I was crouched there with my hands over it, & cursing like a madman. F/Sgt Foggarty who was with us put up a damn good show, over the target he was attacked consistently for half an hour by fighters & an engine (stbd inner) hit by cannon shell. He feathered it and it fell right out, he came down from 23,000 ft to 7,100 ft before he could pull out, & had to stay down low all the way. He sent out an SOS because he thought he wouldn’t make it, & the Jerries followed our homing procedure identically. They homed with searchlights to a ‘drome in Holland, lit it up & gave him a green, luckily his Gee operated and he battled off in a hurry. He crash landed with 3 engines, one bust tyre, no flaps or brakes, & nobody hurt. The engineers right arm & leg were rendered useless over the target & he carried on, but they both got a gong. Beside the two we lost we had three kites written off through fighter attacks, Waterbeach lost two. Dimmock was one of them he came back from leave with me the night previously.
[page break]
[underlined] Monday January 24th. [/underlined]
Still no more ops, in a week, at least no ops that we have completed. Last Thursday we were on the Berlin trip, it seemed a pretty good route, but there was a terrific long sea leg up to Denmark. I hate that, I don’t mind baling out over land ‘cos you have some chance, but there is no sense in baling out over water as by yourself in a Mae West, a chap wouldn’t last a couple of hours. So the only thing is ditching, then if the kite is out of control & we are unable to ditch, we’ve had it. However soon after taking off we couldn’t see any other kites & Johnny & I were picking up opposite drifts from what they should have been. Suddenly Mac checked his compasses and found they were all haywire, we were well off track, and crossed the coast at Ipswich instead of Cromer. Then trying to steer a straight course we went round in a huge circle. It was impossible for us to go on so we tried to jettison fuel in order to land. Mac & Jack tried to jettison fuel to bring our load down, but were unable to do so. We had to jettison the cookie, and flew sixty five miles out from the coast & let her go. So back we went, & were we cheesed, & hate a turn back, it was our first. Jimmy Rodgers returned earlier with a U/S rear turret & W/O Robbins with a U.S Rev counter, Anderson got lost & bombed Wilhelmshaven & I believe F.O Ogden came back after 4 1/2 hrs we were airborne 2 hrs. We lost P/O Canning, on his 19th trip.
[page break]
[inserted] [newspaper cutting on raid on Magdeburg] [/inserted] [duplicate page]
[page break]
[duplicate page]
[page break]
The following night we were going to Magdeburg, with a dummy attack on Berlin, by 15 Mosquitoes, & 20 Lancs (dont [sic] fancy that). There were 690 kites detailed, quite a few for a place that size, we were taxying out, & were almost at the flare path when the kite in front of us became bogged, it was old Howby in F, Freddie. The dim of an ACP let us get right on top of it, before flashing a red, so there was no room for us to turn & go round the perimeter in time to take off. There were other guys in the same position as us & there we all sat whilst the minutes ticked by & we were scrubbed, did we curse. In all eight kites didn’t take off & we lost one, Waterbeach lost four, which was grim, and they say six returned early, I don’t know if thats [sic] right, if so only six kites got to the target & back, it certainly was a chop raid.
Hardwick the chap who was at OTU with us has 5 weeks more [deleted] week [/deleted] grounded, he is cheesed. He gave us some news of fellows at OTU. Doc & his crew are P.O.W’s poor old Cecil Kindt had the chop, Chiefy Young is a P/O with 15 in & his navigator Shields has his W/O they have [deleted] [indecipherable letters] [/deleted] been doing O.K. Bouchard is O.K. with 9, old Towne is in jail, stripped for beating up a town low level. Mac met, Pat Macguire, who was Petch’s Navigator, in London, he said Petch was killed outright. They have an English chap who was a staff pilot in Canada. Ray Bennett was killed outright, but Johnny Smythe his dark navigator is a P.O.W. I don’t know about the rest of the crew.
[page break]
[underlined] Sunday 30th January [/underlined]
Everything was peaceful until Wednesday & then ‘ops’ were on again, bags of twitter, we beetled out to old G George to see everything was bang on. The weather wasn’t too hot & everyone was sure it would be scrubbed. When we found out it was Frankfurt, we were certain we wouldn’t go as before we had been briefed for it & hadn’t gone, sure enough it was scrubbed. The Forts went there the other day though, (yesterday in fact) 800 bombers, they certainly must have wanted to rub that place out. However the following night (Thursday) we were dicing once more & it was the old Faithful Berlin again. It seems strange but I have on obsession for that place, I wouldn’t go so far as to say I like it, that would be plain dumb, but I am less disturbed when we go there than anywhere else. Why I am at a loss to explain as it is the longest & hardest trip we will ever have to do. All I know is I wouldn’t mind doing quite a few there, I hope it isn’t a fateful fascination & we get the chop over there.
We had a strong westerly wind blowing behind us & the outward trip only took 2 1/2 hrs, whilst the return took 5 1/2 hrs. Our journey wasn’t too bad, we had a nasty moment when Les told Mac to turn on a course of 037o & Mac thought he said 137o. We were on it for 2 minutes before I saw a Lanc. cut across us & I queried our course.
[page break]
[inserted] [two newspaper cuttings regarding a gale over Berlin causing fires to rekindle] [/inserted] [duplicate page]
[page break]
[duplicate page]
[page break]
This caused us to stray over, Brandenburg I believe it was & by jimini their predicted flak was damned accurate. It burst at the dead same height about 200 yds in front & another lot off the starboard beam. Another few seconds & we were flying through the black smoke puffs. As we saw the P.F.F. flares go down (they were a couple of minutes early) the first fighter flares dropped. Some of the kites had obviously arrived early & been stooging around, waiting for zero hour, because the flak had been going up for a while already. By the time we arrived, we were in the blasted last wave as usual, there were scores of yellow fighter flares making a lane into the target & another one out of it. There was one fair sized fire going but not so big as I have seen, just after the W/Op watched my cookie go through the clouds he reported a huge explosion. I smile to think it might have been me, but one can never tell what happens in a concentrated attack like that.
Two minutes after the bombs had gone, Don the Mid Upper spotted a fighter, & called to Johnny to watch it. Then we heard Johnny’s excited voice over the inter-com, “Its a JU88, he’s coming in he’s crossing over now, get ready to corkscrew port, - corkscrew port go”. I was scrambling up to the front guns & just reached there in time. Our corkscrew was so violent that neither of the gunners were able to open fire, it also
[page break]
must have surprised the Jerry because he overshot above us, & skidded in a stall turn about 200 yds away from our nose. I remember thinking “My God what a bloody size he is”, somehow I had never realised how large a 66ft wing span was for a fighter. Anyway he was in the wing right & a no deflection shot my fingers squeezed & I nearly whooped with joy, when I saw the tracer striking the rear of the port engine & the [deleted] sp [/deleted] mainplane between the engine & the fuselage. Then he dived down to port at a hell of a speed & my little bit of fun was over. It shook me that I was the one to open the attack, as the B/A’s don’t often get a crack. I think it rather shook him to be fired at from the front as he didn’t break away there again.
The battle really started then, & it was a battle too. Up he came from underneath, & Johnny yelled “corkscrew” & opened fire, we could hear his guns shattering, & we were zooming around the sky. Johnny said he hit the port engine again, as I hit it previously & some sparks & flames shot out then subsided to a glow, I think everyone thought we had had it then, though I must hand it to that fighter pilot he really had guts. Round he would come firing right in close & both our gunners would return the compliment. We were corkscrewing violently all the time and my stomach felt as though it was being torn apart & my head smacked against the perspex. Mac & Jack were both thrown against the
[page break]
[inserted] [two newspaper cuttings of the Berlin raid from two eye-witnesses] [/inserted] [duplicate page]
[page break]
[inserted] [newspaper cutting regarding the 12th major bombing raid on Berlin] [/inserted] [duplicate page]
[page break]
roof too. Every now & again a huge stream of tracer would pour across the top of us, & my mouth was dry with fear as I saw the cannon shells exploding at 600 yds. The gunners would be shouting “Corkscrew keep corkscrewing – here he comes again,” then the guns would chatter & we’d roll around. When it came to the break aways I kept praying he would come up to the front & I could get another crack but he never did. I would yell “Where is he?” each time but he would dive right down underneath & they would lose him, it was a separate sighting & attack each time. He made 7 attacks on us, I thought it would never end, on the third he hit us in the elevator trim. Then on the fifth attack a cannon shell exploded in the port wing & bullets ripped through the port inner nacelle. Though we couldn’t tell where the damage was we could only feel the hits. However we gave him quite a bit of punishment, we all hit him, & on the seventh attack, the glow in his engine suddenly became brighter & he dived down & that was the end of the attack, we claimed him as a probable. The whole engagement lasted 18 to 20 minutes it seemed like years, I had one moment of real fright in it. In the middle of a corkscrew with squirts of tracer everywhere I felt a violent blow in the left leg & thought “Hell, I’ve been hit” but it was all the heavy bundles of window that had shaken loose & crashed on my leg.
[page break]
We were at 18,500 ft when the attack started & were down to 13,000 ft at the end, the corkscrews were so violent, the Elsan came right out & was all over the floor & the ammo from one of Johnny’s tanks was all out. My God I was really thankful we had seen that through, one doesn’t often get continuous battles like it. Mac had a fair amount of work with no elevator trim but there was nothing vital hit and the kite flew O.K. We managed to get back on track but we were pretty late, everything went pretty well until it came to the part we squeezed between Frankfurt & the Ruhr. Everything was O.K. until some wicked predicted flak shot up about half a mile to the starboard, there were only three bursts then suddenly there was a Lanc. with flame pouring from the nose & three of her engines. She held her course for a short while, then swung round in a huge circle, came behind, assumed course for half a minute or so then plunged down, I hope they got out. I thought the return journey would never end, I hate it as long as that. We came out pretty well south of track, but we were back O.K. a fair few landed away through lack of fuel. The bullets that ripped through the port inner [indecipherable word] punctured the tyre, but we didn’t know, and landed with a flat tyre, swerved off the runway & there we were. The crash wagon & blood wagon tore out, & they insisted on us riding in the blood wagon.
[page break]
The M.O. insisted upon giving us some capsules, to make us sleep that night & wouldn’t let us go on ops the next night. He knew his ‘gen’ because when we woke we were pretty dizzy & weak from their effect & couldn’t possibly have operated. It was Berlin again, another 8 hr effort, it was a shambles here. They only got 9 out of the squadron airborne, & 2 of these returned, leaving 7 to go on to the target. Out of these 7 we lost 2 which is pretty grim, F/Lt. Aarvin & P/O Tyn were the ones missing. From the night before we lost F/O Harris & F/Sgt Morris, old Morris had been with us at Downham, they said he was in a dinghy, at least he was going to ditch, but they heard no more. Friday night, the RAF Bomber Command Band gave a performance here & was very good, Saturday there was a stand down we went to a camp dance. G George is U/S for a fortnight or so & we were going to take another kite tonight but they were so short of kites they couldn’t put us on. We are right hard up for kites now, two had a head on crash when taxying, nobody was hurt, but the kites are really ripped up. Another had incendiaries through it, they only sent 11 tonight, it was Berlin again, Chopper is really pushing ‘em in again. Old Foggarty has been awarded the DFM for the show he put up, I thought he would. So 623 has made a start here anyway. I wonder if we will be going to Berlin much more I should think it must be pretty well smashed up, they haven’t been able to get photographs for awhile.
[page break]
[inserted] [newspaper cutting saying that the Battle of Berlin is almost won and suggesting that Breslau may be the new Capital.] [/inserted] [duplicate page]
[page break]
[duplicate page]
[page break]
[underlined] Monday February 7th. [/underlined]
A week has elapsed since I last wrote, a week of doing practically nothing. That Sunday raid on Berlin was the last op there was, we got eight kites off I believe, & lost poor old F/Lt Hicks. He was the Asst. Flight Commander in our flight, a [deleted] [indecipherable letter] [/deleted] ‘Newzie’ & a good chap it was his 24th. There were no ‘ops’ then for a few days & then the moon period commenced. Our kite won’t be serviceable for nearly three weeks so they have given us J Johnny, Hicks’ old kite it was U/S & he took another when he got the chop. Sqdn.Ldr [indecipherable name] the ‘Corkscrew King’ had a real do. They had a contact on the Monica & instead of corkscrewing as they were told he asked the gunners if they could see anything. They were looking down & said “No”, & a fighter sitting about 10o up gave them a long burst while they were straight & level. He raked them right along, the rear turret smashed, the mid upper had about 20 fragments pass between his legs. A couple of cannon shells exploded in the fuselage, the [deleted] [indecipherable letter] [/deleted] D.R. Master Unit was hit, a large hole in the main plane, one prop damaged, Boy! they were really shot up. The only one who was hurt was the A/B who had a small piece of flak in his behind. We have been informed that the old Groupie has detailed us for an hours circuits & bumps for the bad landing we made returning from Berlin. That was with a burst tyre. God knows what he wants, I don’t even believe he knows we were shot up.
[page break]
[inserted] [newspaper cutting regarding the raids on Berlin] [/inserted] [duplicate page]
[page break]
[inserted] [newspaper cutting with a photograph of a Halifax III] [/inserted] [duplicate page]
[page break]
It seems pretty definite that the German [indecipherable word]. is evacuating from Berlin to Breslau, its another 200 miles to the South East, surely they wont go there from here, it would be about a 10 hour trip. There is some talk that the tour is being reduced to 25 ops as they are pretty grim now with the Berlin trips, it seems pukka ‘gen’ I hope it is. During the week we have been doing loaded climbs on J to test her starboard outer now it has to be changed. We have also been trying to get some GH Bombing in but the weather isn’t so good. Yesterday we had the day off, they are giving crews a day off during the moon period. Johnny & I went home catching the 1036 AM. Sunday, & travelling back on the 8.20 AM. Monday, I had a wizard time.
On Saturday night we lost a kite on the Bullseye, it was Bishop who was at Downham with us. Poor old Jack Speechly was the Bomb Aimer, I had known him 18 months ever since Manchester, we did our training in Canada together, he was a rattling good chap. They had an American pilot with them, they were all killed, & they don’t know how it happened yet. The crash was found with them all in it, its really grim. That’s three of the crews that were with us at Downham gone now P/O Whitting Ginger Morris & now old Bishop, boy! I only pray we see the tour out & so do all the others. There’s nothing much happening, consequently there isn’t much to make an entry of, think I’ll snatch an early night.
[underlined] Sunday February 13th. [/underlined]
The moon period has definitely finished now and our period of rest is over. Once more ‘Chopper’ whipped a day off the end of it, we were briefed for Berlin & were out at the kites with about 30 mins to go before take off when it was scrubbed. The reason being the bad weather at base on return, it was pretty grim, & was a [deleted] poo [/deleted] wonder it wasn’t scrubbed before. I wouldn’t have minded the trip, because for a change it was a long trip out, & a short trip home. Last minute scrubbings are worse than some ‘ops’ I think after being keyed up all that time, still it shows there is still some of the Big City left there.
We haven’t done much this week, as the weather has been pretty duff, most of the time we tried some GH Bombing nothing came of it, owing to climate conditions. The other day we were up in a hell of a snow storm, all the time we were running before it & trying to find a way out. All the countryside looked pretty Christmassy with a coating of snow over the fields & villages. As I was in the rear turret all the time I was more interested in keeping warm. Our turrets got in grim condition during the moon period and we had to work like the devil all day to get it in shape. I was late for briefing through it and had a hell of a flap trying to get my tracks & maps all ship shape.
[page break]
All Jimmy Rodgers crew went to Cambridge on Friday, as two of [deleted] Jim [/deleted] Bishops crew were being buried there. It is terrible really four of them were married & a couple engaged, old Bishop was only married at O.T.U., I would never get married in war time for that reason. Looking at it soberly with all the chaps getting the chop it seems a hell of a mugs game still there it is.
There has been a fair amount of entertainment this week, we had a night out in Ely with a wizard meal in the KUMIN Café. On Wednesday night there was a dance in the gymnasium, then Thursday night we had a big social in the mess. They even went to the extent of polishing the floor, & in our grim mess that really is something. It went on until 1 AM. & there was bags of beer & eats, the food was very good, marzipan cakes, sausage rolls etc. £25 was allowed for it, so it should have been good. On Saturday there was another dance but I was cheesed with that & don’t think I will bother going again.
The siren is going now & there is some gunfire, be quite comical now, with us refraining from bombing Berlin owing to the met. here, & the Jerries using the same conditions to bomb us. They have left the bombs on the kites & only drained the tanks to 1500 so it looks as though they will be parking us along tomorrow. I guess now they have started again, Chopper will try & really finish Berlin, hope he doesn’t finish us.
[page break]
[inserted] [two newspaper cuttings regarding the continuing raids on Berlin and their effect] [/inserted] [duplicate page]
[page break]
[duplicate page]
[page break]
[underlined] Thursday 17th February. [/underlined]
All was quite [sic] until Thursday, when ‘ops’ were on again, & there it loomed on the briefing room chart, the [deleted] G [/deleted] Big City once more. It was another daylight take off, quite a sight to see all the kites streaming over the coast at Cromer. The first leg was a terrific long one up to Denmark, & it was quite light most of the way, but luckily got dark by the time we were crossing the coast. Those Danish islands can certainly poop up some flak, & I was glad when we hit the Baltic Coast. The last leg to the target was a terrific long one, straight to it, I couldn’t see that the Jerry would be fooled regarding the target, even though there was a spoof attack on Frankfurt-on-Oder. The P.F.F. boobed by sending the flares down before zero hour, & the flak certainly opened up. It was the heaviest I have seen there, I think he was relying more on that than his fighters. Running up I could see about six Halifaxes beneath us, they seemed quite happy as the flak was all bursting between 18 & 21,000 ft. We were carrying just one 8,000 lb cookie, which is quite a goodly size, it was handy in the way that immediately I said ‘Bombs Gone’ Mac could whip the Bomb Doors shut.
Bomber Command was trying new tactics this time the 1st, 2nd, & 3rd waves went one way, & we in the 4th & 5th waves went a bit south of them along another route. The idea was to split the fighter forces, & I think it succeeded we only saw two all night, one ME110 just after
[page break]
[inserted] [two newspaper cuttings regarding the raids on Berlin] [/inserted] [duplicate page]
[page break]
[inserted] [newspaper cutting about obliterating bombing techniques]
[page break]
leaving the target flashed across our nose. We ran into some flak though, getting off track a bit we stooged right over Magdeburg. Beside window there were two huge packets of nickels to throw out so I was sweating like anything shovelling it all out. Not much happened on our return journey apart from a few fighter flares & some rockets. We saw a kite go down in flames over the North Sea, I should hate to get the chop right back there. Two were lost from here, F/S Whyte who had 16 trips in & F/S Ralph who was with us at Downham. He had Pinky Tomlin, Petch’s old B/A, who arrived with a new skipper F/O Nice, beside losing his B/A he lost his rear gunner who went as a spare with Whyte. I hate this spare business they always seem to get the chop.
Yesterday we were briefed for Berlin, then scrubbed, then again tonight & were out at the kites before being scrubbed, the weather was terrible both days, yet they wait till the last minute before scrubbing it. We were read a message from Chopper Harris C in C. congratulating us on the progress of the Battle for Berlin. After the usual flowery comments on our ‘courage & steadfast spirit’ he said we were well ahead of schedule in the obliteration of the capital. He also said the Allied Command considered it the most important battle of all land, sea or air battles fought & yet to fight in the war. There was a long list of reasons of its immediate need to be liquidated, & he said he had to rush us to finish the job as the lighter nights and the Northern lights would soon be making their appearance. Well I hope there isn’t many more trips to be done there.
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22
[underlined] 60/520 [/underlined]
8
196
2443
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
Book 5, Return to UK
Description
An account of the resource
Fifth and final diary kept by David Geach chronicling his time training and on operations. He writes about his return from Canada on the Queen Elizabeth then his training in England which began with arriving at the Posting Centre in Pannal Ash, Harrogate. He was then posted to AFU Bobbington, training on Ansons. From there he went to O.T.U. Hixon and satellite station Seighford training on Wellingtons. He then went to Flying Conversion Unit Woolfox Lodge to train on Stirlings. Once training was complete he was posted to RAF Downham Market on 623 Squadron flying Stirlings on operations. When 623 Stirling squadron was disbanded he was transferred on to Lancasters. He was posted to Flying Conversion Unit 1678 at RAF Waterbeach to train on the Lancaster and then on to RAF Witchford where he undertook operations over Germany, including a number on Berlin. Covers the period 17 March 1943 to 17 February 1944.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
David Geach
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One handwritten diary
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Diary
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
YGeachDG1394781v5
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
Scotland--Greenock
Scotland--Glasgow
Scotland--Edinburgh
England--Harrogate
England--Whitley Bay
England--Bournemouth
England--Stourbridge
England--Birmingham
England--Wolverhampton
England--Stafford
Canada
Ontario--Ottawa
Atlantic Ocean--Cardigan Bay
Wales--Rhyl
England--The Wash
England--Nottingham
Great Britain Miscellaneous Island Dependencies--Isle of Man
England--Cannock
Wales--Aberystwyth
Scotland--Orkney
France--Saint-Malo
France--Rennes
France--Isigny-sur-Mer
France--Cherbourg
France--Avranches
England--Southampton
England--Stamford
England--Cambridge
England--Peterborough
England--Bedford
England--Portsmouth
Netherlands--Friesland
England--Cromer
France--La Rochelle
France--Gironde Estuary
France--Nantes
England--King's Lynn
Italy--Turin
North Africa
Gibraltar
England--Thames River
Germany--Ludwigshafen am Rhein
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Berlin
England--Ely
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Magdeburg
Germany--Hamburg
Norway
Netherlands--Texel
Germany--Bremen
Denmark
Germany--Wilhelmshaven
Germany--Brandenburg
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Braunschweig
Germany--Hannover
England--Sunderland (Tyne and Wear)
Poland--Szczecin
Poland--Wrocław
England--Southend-on-Sea
Italy
Atlantic Ocean--Firth of Clyde
Poland
France
Ontario
Germany
Netherlands
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Bedfordshire
England--Durham (County)
England--Essex
England--Hampshire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Norfolk
England--Northumberland
England--Sussex
England--Staffordshire
England--Worcestershire
England--Nottinghamshire
England--Warwickshire
England--Selsey (West Sussex)
Wales--Caernarfon
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Tricia Marshall
David Bloomfield
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943-03
1943-04
1943-05
1943-06
1943-07
1943-08
1943-09
1943-10
1943-11
1943-12
1944-01
1944-02
115 Squadron
149 Squadron
1678 HCU
196 Squadron
199 Squadron
214 Squadron
218 Squadron
30 OTU
514 Squadron
623 Squadron
90 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
aerial photograph
air gunner
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
B-17
bale out
bomb aimer
bombing
Catalina
Conspicuous Gallantry Medal
crewing up
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
entertainment
fear
flight engineer
Gee
ground personnel
Halifax
Heavy Conversion Unit
Hurricane
incendiary device
Ju 88
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 2
Me 110
military living conditions
military service conditions
mine laying
Mosquito
navigator
Navy, Army and Air Force Institute
Nissen hut
Operational Training Unit
Pathfinders
pilot
RAF Chedburgh
RAF Downham Market
RAF Halfpenny Green
RAF Hixon
RAF Lindholme
RAF Lossiemouth
RAF Seighford
RAF Tangmere
RAF Tuddenham
RAF Warboys
RAF Waterbeach
RAF Witchford
RAF Woolfox Lodge
Red Cross
sanitation
searchlight
Stirling
target indicator
target photograph
training
Typhoon
Victoria Cross
Wellington
wireless operator
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/834/18744/LGeachDG1394781v1.1.pdf
59b50cd8ae7d2f0c31f827ee6cc31b42
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
Geach, David
D Geach
Description
An account of the resource
<a href="https://losses.internationalbcc.co.uk/loss/218400/"></a>52 items. The collection concerns Warrant Officer David Geach (1394781 Royal Air Force) and contains his diaries, correspondence, photographs of his crew, his log book, cuttings and items relating to being a prisoner of war. After training in Canada, he flew operations as a bomb aimer with 623 and 115 Squadrons until he was shot down 24 March 1944 and became a prisoner of war. He was instrumental in erecting a memorial plaque to the Air Crew Reception Centre at Lord’s Cricket Ground in London. <br />The collection also contains a scrap book of photographs.<br /><br />Additional information on his crew is available via the <a href="https://losses.internationalbcc.co.uk/loss/218400/">IBCC Losses Database.</a><br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Harry Wilkins and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2016-03-14
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Geach, DG
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
David Geach's flying log book for aircrew other than pilot
Description
An account of the resource
Flying log book for aircrew other than pilot for David Geach, bomb aimer, covering the period from 22 November 1942 to 2 September 1952. Detailing his flying training, operations flown, being shot down and becoming a prisoner of war, returning to flying, post war with 7 Squadron. He was stationed at RCAF Dafoe, RCAF Rivers, RAF Bobbington (aka RAF Halfpenny Green), RAF Hixon, RAF Woolfox Lodge, RAF Downham Market, RAF Waterbeach, RAF Witchford and RAF Upwood. Aircraft flown in were, Anson, Bolingbroke, Wellington, Stirling, Lancaster and Lincoln. He flew a total of 15 operations, 1 Nickel operation with No.30 Operational Training Unit, 2 night operations with 623 Squadron and 12 night operations with 115 Squadron. Targets were, Rennes, Frisian Islands, Bordeaux, Berlin, Brunswick, Stuttgart, Augsburg and Frankfurt. His pilot on operations was Pilot Officer McCann. Shot down on his seventh operation, to Berlin.
Creator
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Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Publisher
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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
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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
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
LGeachDG1394781v1
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
France
Germany
Great Britain
Atlantic Ocean--Bay of Biscay
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Norfolk
England--Rutland
England--Staffordshire
France--Rennes
Germany--Augsburg
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Braunschweig
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Stuttgart
Netherlands--West Frisian Islands
Saskatchewan--Big Quill Lake
Manitoba--Brandon Region
France--Bordeaux (Nouvelle-Aquitaine)
Saskatchewan
Netherlands
Saskatchewan--Dafoe
Manitoba
Manitoba--Rivers
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943
1944
1952
1943-08-19
1943-08-20
1943-10-03
1943-10-08
1943-10-09
1943-12-29
1943-12-30
1944-01-01
1944-01-02
1944-01-14
1944-01-20
1944-01-27
1944-01-28
1944-02-15
1944-02-16
1944-02-20
1944-02-25
1944-02-26
1944-03-15
1944-03-16
1944-03-18
1944-03-19
1944-03-24
115 Squadron
1665 HCU
1678 HCU
30 OTU
623 Squadron
7 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
Bolingbroke
bomb aimer
bombing
Bombing and Gunnery School
Heavy Conversion Unit
Ju 88
killed in action
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 2
Lincoln
Me 110
mine laying
Operational Training Unit
prisoner of war
propaganda
RAF Downham Market
RAF Halfpenny Green
RAF Hixon
RAF Upwood
RAF Waterbeach
RAF Witchford
RAF Woolfox Lodge
shot down
Stirling
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1114/11604/PSayFD1705.2.jpg
52b843c39d0ced7b2eb03c0b13e49139
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1114/11604/ASayFD170712.1.mp3
c9d5fe21ca19ee77e4c519dc4a350b90
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
Say, Frederick Donovan
F D Say
Description
An account of the resource
17 items. An oral history interview with Frederick Say DFC (1921 -2017, 752638 Royal Air Force), photographs, charts and documents. He flew operations with 466, 196 and 514 Squadrons.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Frederick Say and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-07-12
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
Say, FD
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
CB: My name is Chris Brockbank and today is the 12th of July 2017 and I’m with Don Say in Highnam in Gloucestershire to talk about his life and times. So, Don what are your earliest recollections of life?
FDS: Being bathed in the tin bath by a lady with a red rubber, I think it was a rubber, I don’t know, red apron in front of the fire. Not [laughs] not too close obviously. And that was not my mother actually. My mother had died from what’s the official name of it? Hypocalcaemia. Not familiar with it? Milk fever. It’s an imbalance and in the days when it wasn’t unknown, it was known, cows get it. And when they get it its caller staggers and they stagger. And that’s the symptom for adults. I didn’t know my mother in other words. I have letters you know. A letter to my father. But she would be about twenty two. He would be about twenty one or twenty two. He had been in the Army. His picture’s somewhere over there on that table. You can see it facing you. Facing you.
CB: Right.
FDS: He was in the Machine Gun Corps. Underage so his mother got him, pulled him out and the army pulled him back in again, and he still stayed in the Machine Gun Corps. He finished up managing flour mills, flour and feed mills in Newcastle upon Tyne. But he’d be about twenty one or twenty two then. So I was then in the care for a few months I think with two old ladies who’d been in service who were some sort of relative, although I didn’t know them. And then my mother’s cousin and her husband started to look after me very well until I was, I don’t know, somewhere between five or six years old I think, she died. And eight years later my guardian as he became married again to a lady who said, ‘I’ve been a wicked woman.’ I said, ‘Yeah. I’ll drink to that.’ That was at her bedside visiting. I would have done too. Very unpleasant. There was much, much more cruelty by the tongue than by the lash. Can be anyway. It’s very difficult. It accounts for my aggression. Aggressive attitude to life [laughs] it may do. I don’t know. Blame somebody anyway. The current habit as well. So where have we got to now?
CB: So we’ve got to —
FDS: School.
CB: Yes.
FDS: Well, I passed, passed the various exams and left what was called then Tottenham County Grammar School err County High School. There were three schools. Boys Grammar, Girls High School and the whatever the next. That was called the County School. It was brand new with virtually an entire graduate staff. And quite a privileged education, finest court and the rest of it. And playing field. I was not a boarder and at no point did I feel any great loyalty towards it. Nor have I since. But I did pass school cert. Whatever it was called. Matric or something. And I also took, I was taken by my guardian to what we would we call him now? Careers advisor I suppose. And he said, ‘What do you want to do?’ I said, ‘I don’t know. I know what I don’t want to do. I don’t want to be told what I’m going to be doing all the time.’ So I said, ‘Agriculture sounds like a good bet.’ And I then took an exam and went to the what was then the Herts Institute of Agriculture, but now College of Agriculture, which was financially each year of half roughly horticultural training, half agriculture. And the [pause] they were a good staff. I didn’t work very hard there. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Fell in love with my first girlfriend. Needn’t, needn’t put that down. Long since dead. It was near St Albans. About two or three miles. On the edge of the airfield. I’m trying to think of the name of it.
CB: Radlett.
FDS: Hmmn?
CB: At Radlett was it?
FDS: No. No. It was their private, err, manufacturers of aircraft.
CB: At Hatfield.
FDS: Pardon?
CB: Handley Page at Hatfield.
FDS: No.
CB: Well —
FDS: We’ll get through.
CB: De Havilland at Hatfield and Hand —
FDS: It was quite an important flight path.
CB: Handley Page
FDS: It’s over the College of Agriculture.
CB: Right.
FDS: Or it was.
CB: Right.
FDS: I’m trying to think what.
CB: Well, de Havilland at Hatfield and Handley Page at Radlett. Anyway, we’ll come back to that.
FDS: It’ll come back to me suddenly.
CB: Ok.
FDS: In the middle of the night. I’ll give you a call [laughs]
CB: Yeah, do that, yeah [laughs]
FDS: Tomorrow morning [laughs] But it’s relevant because I went there as a student and many years later I applied and was interviewed for the job of principal and then I discovered that the flight path. The first one was right on the flight path of the thing so I turned it down.
CB: Right. Ok.
FDS: Great fun.
CB: So you were at the college for how long?
FDS: A year.
CB: And then what?
FDS: I went, this is a bit I [pause] I went to, I worked for a local farm. When I say local, in Hertfordshire. I don’t remember it particularly. And eventually the principal went for a change of job and he said, ‘Well, I don’t know if you’ll like it but it’s a job of hedging for a man called Patterson,’ at [pause] near Salisbury somewhere he thought. It wasn’t. That was the one at Petersfield, in fact and the name of the chap was Rex Munro Patterson, and he was the nephew of Lady Alliot Verdon Roe who was the wife of Sir Alliot Verdon Roe, and I went there to go hedging and he interviewed me and he said, ‘You’re not doing hedging. You’re going to tidy up the farms that I’m renting.’ He, don’t write this bit, his aunt had lent him a thousand I think to start with. He’d been to Canada, brought back the idea of the buck rake which she gave to Harry Ferguson and he worked in tandem and he had about twelve farms over Hampshire and Sussex. Is that a coincidence?
CB: Extraordinary.
FDS: Sir Avro.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: And his son used to drive the lorries to go and collect heffers from Liverpool and bring them down to Hampshire. I used to go. Go with him. He would drive. He was about a couple of years older than me.
CB: That was a long journey.
FDS: Good fun. Heffers had never seen people before very much and they showed it. But he, Patterson was novel in the sense that he introduced the buck rake. But he also, he didn’t introduce he shared the introduction of [pause] what do you call them? I can’t think of the name of the damned things now, towing cow, cow units. Mobile units.
Other: Milking units.
FDS: Yeah. Across the Downs trying to —
CB: Mobile milking parlours, were they?
FDS: Milking. Yeah. They were on wheels. We used to, one man and a boy or a young man and a young, two young men rather, and I worked for that because I got fed up with the office and I was working outside. They were short on cattle and we had about sixty or seventy per two men which was quite remarkable then in those days. The land, a lot of the land he rented at about five bob an acre from Sir Phillip Ricketts. Ricketts Blue? So he had large lumps of Hampshire and Sussex and my life seems a circuit around that doesn’t it? That’s how I came to get to Portsmouth and join the RAF VR.
CB: So, we’re talking about now 1938 going into ’39.
FDS: I’m, I’m dodgy on the dates.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Dates and months. About that time.
CB: And you were eighteen in 1938.
FDS: I had to be eighteen to join.
CB: So, how did you go about joining the Forces? So, how did you go about joining the Forces?
FDS: I joined.
CB: Yes, but how did you do it?
FDS: Well, I, first of all I went to the Recruiting Centres, and I went to the Army first. They gave me a tongue lashing and turned me down.
CB: This was in Portsmouth was it?
FDS: Yes. Then I went to the Navy. All on the same Saturday [laughs] and then I went to the Royal Air Force who said, ‘Yes, thank you. Do you want to fly?’ And I said, ‘Why would I want to do that?’ I said, ‘All I want to do is to have something that’s a bit more lethal than a pair of boots for the invasion,’ which was supposed to happen at any minute. But I couldn’t take it seriously. I never did really. I changed my job, you see. I can’t remember quite why, but I went to Essex. Wickford In Essex, and I worked on a farm there for [pause] it must have been the three months before I was called up, because I was feeding the pigs and my friend who was staying with the people we were staying with at that time came round on his bike and said, ‘There’s a telegram. It looks important.’ And I looked at it and I said, ‘It’s vitally important. I’m needed to save the country three days ago.’ “You will report to Southampton,” three days before I received it. So I got on a train. You know, you do as you’re told. I went to the farm and I said to the farmer, ‘You can come back.’ I said, ‘I don’t think it’s very likely. I don’t think it’s very likely because, I think I might join the Air Force. I don’t know.’ Anyway, I went down and reported to Glen Eyre Road, Southampton [pause] and the chap there said, I said, ‘Where am I supposed to go to now? You’ve recorded that I’m here.’ ‘Go over there with that lot. You two come with me.’ And we two of us followed him out to a vehicle, and he drove us around various, a house, ‘How many bedrooms have you, madam?’ I think the poor woman said, ‘Two or three,’ or something. ‘Right.’ They’re not awful?’ No. ‘Well, these two are staying here overnight. Not, will you? You board them overnight. They’ll be picked up in the morning I can promise you.’ So we were there over night at Glen Eyre Road. That’s it. No. That was the Centre. We were despatched from there to this house. Picked up by lorry and it gets ludicrous. It gets ludicrous. In the morning we got in to a lorry, the back of a standard RAF lorry and we drove to Tangmere. I didn’t know it was Tangmere. We drove through the guardroom and straight through. And there would be, there were fifty four of us. I think that’s right. Work it out yourself because the sergeant who used to be on the door of the local cinema had been recalled and he came up and said, ‘You lot,’ we were fifty four. ‘Three lots of eighteen,’ So there’s three lots. Then he had a piece of chalk. They could afford chalk. He carefully drew rectangles around each eighteen and I was in the first group. ‘You’re A-Watch, You’re B-Watch and you’re C Watch.’ And we said, ‘What precisely are we watching?’ ‘You’ll find out.’ [laughs] We were then marched off to a hangar and given bed boards and a pallias. You never had a pallias.
CB: No.
FDS: And straw. Put the clean straw in the pallias and what the hell do we do with this? Shaped vaguely like a musical instrument. A big one. You put these, anyway we kept there the other end of the hangar suddenly blokes came in in what appeared to be riding britches. Classy reservists. Six foot five airmen doing the same thing but the other end. And this corporal that was running this, this corporal or sergeant came around again. I said, ‘What are we supposed to be watching?’ He said, ‘You’ll find out.’ Marched off along a pathway and down a slope into a room. Guess what? Operations room. We were operations room clerks and three weeks to three months later I moved from AC2 ignorant general duties to leading aircraftsman SD, special duties. ‘Now, whatever you’re told in here and whatever you see in here you’re not to communicate with anybody in the fear of death.’ We did, oh eight or twelve stretches and they found out rapidly that very, all that was happening the convoys were going up and down to the Channel and 605 City of Birmingham Auxiliary, 43 Squadron which I think at that time there I think they were the Gladiators because Number 1 were the Hurricanes. Number 1 Squadron. Halahan was the boss. They were pushed off fairly rapidly to France. To a base there and did a lot of jobs when we ran away from [laughs] when we ran away from the Germans at Dunkirk. That was a lot later. But that was quite interesting to me. Lloyd. A chap called Lloyd from Lloyds Steel Pipes. Flight Lieutenant Lloyd. It was a millionaire’s squadron and didn’t they flaunt it? You know. Silk flying jackets and riding britches. Totally amateur. And relatively few other ranks. There were these fifty four of us divided into eighteens and then about eight were sent off to the wireless centre and what was there? We were shoving counters. Shoving counters around and putting things up for, instead it became enemy blocks of a hundred or two hundred aircraft but originally it was boats. Ships. And these were the convoys and the aircraft and they were sort of went out and did their patrols. And that was very exciting. We sat there, nothing happened. The Observer Corps were at the other end of the lines. They came in to us and you know that you’ve seen all the, have you? You’re familiar with the ops room set up.
CB: Yeah. Yeah.
FDS: The map.
CB: Yes.
FDS: Well, there’s a sector map and the platform behind us. I don’t think there was any rank there normally under the rank of about flight lieutenant or squadron leader. And because we were near London we had visitors. Churchill. Churchill didn’t spur me on but I heard that he’d come down and been in the ops room and said that he thought it should be largely peopled by women and oddly enough I agreed with him. And they came in then. WAAFs came through. All frightfully, frightfully nice girls. I wrote a poem to one. Shall I tell you it?
CB: Do.
FDS: Her father appears in “Who’s Who.” I’m afraid I can’t introduce you. For an addition you need a commission. Three rings with the minimum two. She might take a cocktail with me, or come out to afternoon tea, but remember that you are a mere AC2. It makes all the difference you see [laughs] on an AC’s pay. Oh dear. I had nothing better to do than write silly rhymes. That was true, the girl.
CB: Excellent.
FDS: But they were awfully decent and one of them was called Bolton. Mary Bolton. Now, that’s relevant because guess what? She became the mother of Dyson.
CB: Oh.
FDS: I knew Dyson when he was that high and I was, I knew her sister was in the nursing order. I did a eulogy for her about a couple of years ago. Sheer coincidences. At that time we didn’t know it was a coincidence obviously. It was renowned for the excellent entertainment we got because we got all the shows from London and stars and anybody that thought they were anybody with power came to see us if they were allowed in. All shhh. Very secret. Well, the Germans knew. They knew where the, what do you call it? Radar units were because they came over and thoroughly bombed them after I left. Up to that point I was still getting it. I was then posted from there. I said, ‘I want to be out of here although it’s very interesting and very active with convoys and the like.’ I left and went to 10 Group and they promptly bombed Tangmere, did the Germans. Smashed it up and they had to relocate the ops room. I, by now at 10 Group, I didn’t know it was 10 Group. I was in a tent. We were in tented accommodation and some bloke came around. I don’t know. A flight sergeant. It didn’t mean anything to us. We don’t do any station duties. We were special duties. Shush. [laughs] So, I shared a tent for a few months. That ultimately became, it’s now the, what is it? I don’t know the stratospheric centre for, you know battle. It’s deep underground. There was masses of caves. I take it you know that. That county is riddled with caverns and one of them was 10 Group. And the chap who used to fly opposite, was it Hullavington on the opposite side? There was an airfield on the opposite [pause] 10 Group was on a hill. Not on a unit. And the air base was on the other side and the [pause] Park. Park who was on Fighter Command at one point used to fly in in his own little Hurricane. All white. White overalls and shouting and pulling, pulling rank. Stayed about two days and went again. And that was quite interesting for a while but I got bored with that and I was doing night duty and the chap [pause] who was commanding then? Baines. Wing Commander Baines. You had a wing commander who was ostensibly in charge of the ops room, and then the other, there was the Army, Navy and so on and you see them. And I was one of the little erks running about in between, and Baines was on duty that night. He said, ‘I’m bored.’ I said, ‘Well, join the club.’ No sirs or anything when we were off duty. We were on duty but relaxed and I said, ‘I’m bored stiff with this job actually.’ ‘What would you prefer to do?’ I said, ‘Well, I see these blokes walking out from aircraft and they don’t like any brighter than me. So, I’ll be aircrew of some sort.’ ‘I’ll recommend you.’ Which he did. And I went to, at that time I think it was a bit of an unusual entrance. I went to, what was the Air Force base? What is still the Air Force base? Headquarters.
CB: What? Bentley Priory?
FDS: Hmmn?
CB: For fighters?
FDS: London. No. The London office.
CB: Ad Astral House.
FDS: Hmmn?
CB: Ad Astral House.
FDS: I don’t think it was called that then. Anyway, I was sent there for an interview. To be interviewed for aircrew and I was waiting outside in the passage way and a chap passed me full of rings up his arm and I didn’t know how he got, a large ring and lots of small ones. ‘What are you doing there my boy?’ And I said, ‘I’m waiting to be interviewed, sir.’ ‘Are you nervous?’ I said, ‘Yes.’ So he said, ‘Well, don’t be, he said. ‘They’re no brighter than you. Thirteen times thirteen.’ I said, ‘A hundred and sixty nine.’ He said, ‘If you know that [laughs] wonderful. Air Commodore JB Cole-Hamilton. Yeah. Nice chap. Pleasant. He said, ‘Go ahead. You can pass that.’ There was no such thing as [pause] they had centres didn’t they in London and elsewhere for direct entry? And I was being slotted in with direct entry and you could pick me out, because all the others had new uniforms. I had a green great coat. It had gone green when I was in the tent. Sort of gone blue green [laughs] and I was posted. Posted from there. I’m trying to think of the next stage.
CB: Where was the selection centre?
[pause]
CB: Where was the selection centre?
FDS: It must have been. I went to Babbacombe. That was new. They had just taken over the hotels.
CB: Right.
FDS: And I was based in a hotel at Babbacombe with several other blokes. I was UT aircrew. UT pilot. They got fed up with that later on. They couldn’t get any aircrew. Everybody was going in to be a pilot. So they took, took a chopper. I think I wasn’t any good as a pilot. I wouldn’t have made a good pilot. And I came to the same conclusion that they came to. So I went to Torquay and did initial training, ITW, that would be wouldn’t it? Based in a hotel there. And then from there we were, we sat, when we were shipped up to Scotland. I think I went up to Scotland then. I’m not sure at that point. I went to Scotland. It’s come up at a different points. Is this making sense?
CB: That’s fine. Yes.
FDS: I think its fine thus far.
CB: Ok.
FDS: Where am I now?
CB: So, you’ve gone to Scotland.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: That’s to get on a boat is it?
FDS: Hmmn?
CB: That was to get on a boat.
FDS: Yeah. Yeah. And I went to the orderly room which the others sprogs didn’t know much about and said, ‘Say, where am I? Am I posted?’ ‘Yes,’ he said. I said, ‘Where am I posted to?’ And he said, ‘South Africa.’ I said, ‘I don’t want to go to South Africa. Where else is there?’ ‘There’s Canada.’ I said, ‘I’d like to go to Canada.’ He said, ‘I’ll swap you over.’ [laughs] Absolutely. That’s it really. So we were all lined up. The people going on the boat. I think they were about five hundred in the end and we were all lined up on parade, me in my green great coat. The Duke of Gloucester whose time [laughs] I met him much later on life, but he was around stinking of beer. He came round and was due to inspect us. And the chap in charge, whatever he was, of the parade walking down looking at all the airmen all standing to attention and he got to me [laughs] green coat. ‘What do you think you’re dressed in?’ ‘I beg your pardon? This is my issue.’ ‘Well, where have you been?’ I said, ‘Where I’m sent. To a tent at one point. That’s where it went greenish.’ ‘Go over to the stores now and get a new coat.’ And I was sent to get a new coat. It was incredible. I went over on the [pause] doesn’t really matter. It was a liner anyway. A cabin. And I had my first large bar of chocolate for a long time I remember. I remember two merchant seamen who were crew I think were going out to be crew to come back having a fight outside [laughs] in the whatever it’s called. Passageway. Incredible. And we came in to, came in to Canada. Which port? It was while it was still in those days it was still non-alcoholic. What did they call it?
CB: Prohibition.
FDS: The state that we landed on was a non-alcoholic state. So the first two civilians I saw were three staggering drunks [laughs]. Lots and lots of whatever it’s called. I can’t remember now. Illegal booze anyway.
Other: In the US.
FDS: Hmmn?
Other: In the United States.
FDS: Canada.
Other: Oh, in Canada.
FDS: In Canada at that point. In that State. I’m trying to remember the name of the state. It starts with an M. Manitoba? No. That’s west. East. Eastern Canada. Where you land. Or you did land anyway.
CB: Well, a lot of people went to Newfoundland, didn’t they?
FDS: Yeah. We, my lot didn’t because we went to the other bit.
CB: Ok.
FDS: I’m trying to think what it was. I think it was M [pause] When I came back it was still alcohol free. Whatever the word is.
CB: Was it?
FDS: I came back through the, by now it was a big unit. When I went out it was just a base. Nothing was there. We were put on trains. A three day train journey. Very exciting. Old trains you know. You could climb right up the ladders and black gentlemen seeing you on and off them. And three days we were on the train. We got marched off every three hours to make sure we didn’t get too constipated. And we were there two or three hours I think. Stopped. Marched around a bit. Lounged about a bit. You needn’t write it down but I was invited when I went back. Not to me personally. There were three births as a result of those stops. I went back again more than a year later. This was what I was told believe it if you will. I could believe it. We were all white flashed people. The story went around that the people with white flashes in their hat that had unmentionable diseases. That was the story they floated. The other, the non-white flashed people. Quite amazing. Yeah.
CB: So you got on the train three days.
FDS: On and off it for three days.
CB: And where did you end up?
FDS: Very well fed. Calgary. Calgary Airport [pause] which had part of it as an EFTS, and I did a hell of a lot of EFTS and I did a, I got as far as the, I did as far enough to get as far as what’s his name? CFI. And he downed me. Well, he downed me officially. I was told this is only in the last six months. I wasn’t relating this, I heard it related that they had so many pilot applicants ‘38 ’39 they couldn’t cope and they were overdone and they couldn’t get any aircrew so they just chopped off a convenient lot. Which they had to do. So whether I was part of the excess or not I don’t know. Anyway, I went there and I enjoyed that. We used to fly up to the Rockies at the weekend. It was very good.
CB: So you saw the chief flying instructor and what did he do?
FDS: Failed me.
CB: And?
FDS: I was disgruntled. I was disgruntled. It was all very civil. I was called and said, ‘You’re being released.’ That’s all. ‘You’re going to the navigation school.’ I said, ‘Please sir I don’t wish to go to a navigation school. I’d like to go back home now. So, if I can’t do this I will go as an air gunner.’ ‘You won’t. You will do as you’re told.’ Oh. So I was very bad tempered. I went off to the railway station with full kit. Kit bag. All sorts. I’m not sure I didn’t have a gun. Didn’t have any ammunition that’s for sure. I had a gun. I think. Anyway, I climbed on to this train, threw my kit in the corner and found I was accompanied by a beautiful red headed girl about my own age. And we were together for three days because she went off, she was going on one stop further than me. I got invited for the weekend, which was rather nice. So, at weekends of the war the war stopped for us in Canada. Stopped at weekends. It was rather nice. They’d come and get in the car.
CB: Where was this nav school?
FDS: Hamilton, Ontario which you know. I failed my first exam there. Don’t write that down. I failed it quite deliberately. I was sent for an interview. ‘Your little game is to fail and be sent back. It won’t work. You will be here if necessary until you’ve got a beard down to your knees.’ [laughs] I know that, I know you can pass the exam. You know you can pass the exam. Go and pass the bloody thing.’ [laughs] So back I went, but I was back a course all the time as a result of that. So, where are we now?
CB: So there we are in nav school. So what —
FDS: Still at Hamilton.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Anything interesting happen? I flew round. We flew all over the place. Up to Muskoka looking for a chap who got lost off a formation with Harvards. He got lost in the snow and if you get up to Muskoka and up in that direction it’s about a thousand lakes. We didn’t find him. Whether he was found eventually I don’t know. But he, how he got lost off a formation. That’s what they told us.
CB: So when you were at nav school?
FDS: Interesting.
CB: What was the course content?
FDS: DR nav. Well, we’d already done DR nav anyway so we did DR nav. Lots of cross country. Well, it seemed lots of cross country. They’re logged in here and there. I can’t remember how long it was. They were just about coming up to the point where the Royal Air Force had a fit of the tremors and invented Nav Bs. So navigators who didn’t do bomb aiming and bomb aimers who didn’t do navigation, which was pretty damned stupid but if you were lucky like me [laughs] pilot, a third, a third of the pilot’s course, about all, all of the nav course. The whole. I went to bombing and gunnery at Picton. Picton. Where was Picton? Is it in the back of the book I wonder?
CB: We’ll, we’ll stop in just a mo if we may, but what were you flying when you were getting your navigation practice?
FDS: Anson. I flew with a chap called Warrant Officer Orville and he said, ‘We’re running out of fuel and I don’t know if we can get back very easily. We’ll have to land.’ We landed on what is now the main highway. The trans-Canada highway. Goes up north. We landed on it [laughs] Cars and things came to us and brought petrol [laughs]
Other: Orville.
FDS: As I recall he had a big moustache. I was sat behind him. I had to feed him chewing gum to watch his moustache going up and down.
CB: He was a Canadian, was he?
FDS: I don’t know.
CB: Oh.
FDS: I think he, I think he was English.
CB: Ok.
FDS: He seemed fairly English. But you used to go, you could orbit Hamilton and you could see the, what was the American town down the bottom of the lake? You could see the lights on there very clearly. In no circumstances would you go over to the, to Niagara. So, I’ve got a picture of Niagara Falls taken when we weren’t supposed to go there. We all went there obviously but they weren’t in at that point. They came in in that December I think it was, was it?
CB: So we’re in, that was ’41. So, what time are we in now? We’re in 1941.
FDS: I’m in —
CB: 7th of December ‘41 the Americans joined.
FDS: I’m not [pause] if I have a look at that.
CB: We’ll just stop for a mo and have a look.
FDS: I might have a look because people flying the drogue.
CB: People flying the —
FDS: The drogue.
CB: Yeah. The tug. Yes.
FDS: For gunnery.
CB: Yes.
FDS: Were people who’d been on the pilot’s course with me.
CB: Oh, were they?
FDS: Several people. ‘What score would you like to get?’ Well, of course you can’t get a hundred percent if you were gunning. In gunnery not likely you would get much more than five. I said, ‘Well, I don’t want to get close enough to see the scissors on it but I’d like to get a few shots at it.’ An impossible score. I had to go up and do it again. He got a rocket for being so close.
CB: Oh right, yeah.
FDS: All very decent fun really.
CB: In your gunnery training what did they do to begin with to train you?
FDS: I don’t remember it very much.
CB: Were you using on the ground shot guns or what did you do?
FDS: Oh yes. Yes, we used those. A chap called Henty who’d shot at where ever the famous rifle shooting is.
CB: At Bisley.
FDS: Yeah. He’d been a Bisley shot. Henty. Yeah, we did rifles. I can remember using a revolver because we [laughs] when we shouldn’t do we went in a Nissen hut and we had a lot of marmalade tins and put them on a fence and you could use what was that little, don’t put that down for goodness sake. You could use sten ammunition.
CB: Oh, sten guns right.
FDS: But that ammunition would fit the revolver.
CB: The 9 millimetre. Yeah.
FDS: Yeah. Incredible. Naughty boys. We had a smoking chimney [laughs]
CB: Not 45s.
FDS: Shot the, shot a revolver up the chimney. Flames and smoke coming out the chimney. They could see it, of course. Dear oh dear.
CB: So, they let you get away with some of these things.
FDS: Oh yes. The Royal Air Force for me was fun from the minute I started the ops room with the latter part of the ops room was. The first bit was interesting but not much fun. I didn’t think anyway. I mean moving counters a bit. Knowing where a ship was and an aircraft it could absorb you for the first day or even a week, but it’s not, and mainly men at that point on the other end of the phone lines, Observer Corps.
CB: Right.
FDS: Yes. It was Group Headquarters I was moved to. I don’t know why. But —
CB: 10 Group. Yes.
FDS: 10 Group. I don’t know why. I don’t even know if I’ve not entered. I didn’t enter any of that did I?
CB: No. Let’s go back to Picton, Ontario.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: And your bombing and shooting.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Gunnery were at the same place.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: So we talked about the gunnery. What, what were you flying in when you were doing the airborne gunnery?
FDS: I can’t think. Oh, we had a VGO. Vickers gas operated isn’t it? So it was a cockpit, open cockpit at the front or back?
CB: Was it?
FDS: I can’t remember. Instructor would be generally at the back of a two seater thing so presumably I’m right aren’t I? VGO. It stays in the mind. Vickers gas operated machine gun.
CB: Yes.
FDS: Used to get stoppages. Well famed for the number of stoppages.
CB: It didn’t like the draught.
FDS: I wonder what it was. Oh I know. The thing. They shot a load of them down at the beginning of the war.
CB: Oh, they were —
FDS: Battle.
CB: Fairey. No. No.
FDS: The Battle would it be. Would it be the Battle?
CB: They could have been Fairey Battles.
FDS: I think it probably —
CB: Because they lost so many to begin with.
FDS: They shot a hell of a lot of them down. Yeah.
CB: The light bomber. Yeah. The Fairey Battles they put to Canada.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Vickers gas operated machine gun.
CB: Right. And then bombing.
FDS: You could almost count them coming out.
CB: And bombing. Yes. Bombing. How did they teach you bombing?
FDS: How? Well, they had a good, they’d got a damned good simulator. You did hours on a simulator similar to, not identical with pilots but similar, and you bombed that and you also [pause] That would be it, yeah.
CB: Did you not get any live bombing with the Battle? With the Fairey Battles.
FDS: I don’t think so. No. I think that would be, they had six practice bombs. Whatever different. I have that. I don’t know if I would enter that. Would I enter it?
CB: We’re just pausing for a mo.
[recording paused]
FDS: Chris, well, this is what made my voice go high is pollen. I’m trying to [pause] Watson, Watson, Watson. Oh dear, eight bombs. Wellington. That’s, no that’s an OTU. 20 OTU, Elgin.
CB: Yeah. That’s a bit. We’ll come to that in a minute.
FDS: Picton, Picton, Anson, here we are. There you are.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Results of the gunnery course. Results of the bombing course.
CB: Right. Ok. That’s good. Thank you. Yeah.
FDS: It’s taking a long time isn’t it?
CB: So, you finished the course on bombing. You qualified on your navigation.
FDS: Yeah. It says so there.
CB: Does it?
FDS: Oh, very much so.
CB: So, because you were doing navigation, bombing and gunnery.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: You were the traditional observer.
FDS: Absolutely.
CB: So how did your graduation occur?
FDS: It didn’t.
CB: So —
FDS: You mean when did I get my wings?
CB: Yes.
FDS: I think they were sent to me. I’ve never had a —
CB: So, you came to the end of the course is what I’m getting at.
FDS: Yeah. My award was different.
CB: Was there a parade?
FDS: Not for me.
CB: And everybody went.
FDS: I nearly always had something like scarlet fever, or a change a course or something. Something. I never finished with the people I was with.
CB: Oh right. So at that end of this.
FDS: I don’t remember doing so, anyway.
CB: At the end of the observer course how, what happened next?
FDS: Well, I think there was a parade and gave them my wings and then I did the Picton one. Much the same thing happened.
CB: So you got your —
FDS: You had a parade. No they had a reward.
CB: They did.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Why weren’t you on the final parade?
FDS: Oh God. I honestly can’t remember.
CB: Ok.
FDS: Nothing disgraceful.
CB: No. So, at the end of the training in Canada then what happened?
FDS: The end of the training in Canada. I’m trying to think where I came back from [pause] I had a great welcoming sign in this particular camp and it said, “The following premises are out of bounds for all ranks because of the [unclear] that had gone on. Well, they were made their own gin from wood alcohol which will make you blind, and some people were damaged by it obviously. So all ranks were forbidden. So, you probably ignored that. No means of implementing that anyway. And they weren’t all thieves and robbers fortunately. I have never ever been on a Wings Parade. That’s an achievement. You just brought it to my mind. What a shame. Not really. Something always intervened.
CB: But you didn’t get any illness in Canada did you?
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Oh, you did. What did you get?
FDS: Scarlet fever.
CB: Right. Was that at the end of the course or when?
FDS: I was at Trenton at the time. No. I was sent to Trenton which was a hell of a big base. When was I sent to Trenton? I think this was how I came to miss wings or something. I had this, I was having an examination of some sort that was important and I sent my apologies and said, ‘I have an infection.’ It was a ring around the wrist. I thought it was. I didn’t think it was an infection. I said, ‘It’s just a sore ring but I’ve overslept but I’ll come and do it because I can pass.’ ‘You won’t.’ Looked at it. You’ve got scarlet fever. Oh right. You’ve got to go through —' they drove me off in a large posh vehicle to a civilian hospital. Put me on the ground floor. Put me in one of those silly operation gown things that buttoned at the back that wouldn’t do up and I had a room on my own. I said, ‘What’s going to happen now?’ They said, ‘Well, you’re going to be isolated for four weeks or six weeks’. I said, ‘Well, that’ll be nice won’t it?’ Anyway, they brought me no food so I rang my bell they came and they said, ‘What’s wrong?’ I said, ‘I’m out through that window if I don’t get some food. I’ve had no food since breakfast.’ ‘Oh. You’ll get some.’ So they brought some. It was terrible. I was supposed to be on a starvation diet. I don’t know. I was there about six weeks. That’s how I got an intervening bit missing things. They came and brought an me ice cream. The people who walked past the window. ‘Who are you?’ I said, ‘I’m an Englishman imprisoned here.’ And they had a poor little kid in a room as it were over there. He was dying from [pause] what was it called, the horse [unclear] bug?
Other: Tetanus.
FDS: Tetanus. Yeah.
CB: Tetanus. Right.
Other: Lockjaw.
FDS: Because the chap who had to keep an eye on me was also keeping an eye on him and doing other jobs. He said, ‘I’ll leave this door open. You can see him. If he has any great problem or distress he’ll wave at you. That wasn’t very pleasant but there you are. They were all very kind. I got back and sent to Hamilton and of course everybody had gone. That’s how I came to miss. Right. I wasn’t deprived of wings. They could have kept me there for the next quarter though but I’d finished. There we are. That was Hamilton.
CB: So you travelled from Hamilton, Ontario back. How did you go?
FDS: From Picton?
CB: From Picton. And where did you go?
FDS: This you’ll find difficult to believe. I went to the holding unit. Whatever it was called. I don’t know what that was called. It was holding unit for entering and exiting Canada. It was huge by the time I left after a couple of years. But I went round from there to New York. New York, guess what I came back on. The Queen Mary. I get bounced about don’t I? I was the only observer of the four hundred and ninety nine pilots and me. And five hundred American nurses, and about five thousand Americans. And they put a guy, put a bloke with a gun on the door for these [unclear] I said to one of them, I asked the Yank, ‘What’s this bloke armed for?’ I said, ‘I’m going to be armed if they’re going to walk around armed.’ He said, ‘I don’t know really.’ I said, ‘Nothing, there’s nothing there would tempt any of us [unclear] if he’s unarmed. [laughs] They said, ‘You will get one meal a day once we leave harbour.’ And once we left harbour they were all being seasick. You could get food any time you liked. And the Queen Mary came in to Scotland and I came down from Scotland to Bournemouth. Stayed at Bournemouth for six weeks or so waiting to be posted and it was a Canadian unit, it’s a Canadian run, very nice. Good summer. I went down to the local pub there and there was a Wren there and I thought I know her. And I said to her, there was nobody else about, so I said, ‘Don’t get frightened.’ Nobody else there. I started off with a very unusual line, ‘I know you.’ And she said, ‘Yes. I know. I know you from when I was down at Tangmere.’ Tangmere, near the coast. We used to go to the coast and she was one of the girls I met with because most of the entry were local blokes. My, my other seventeen companions were nearly all local. And that’s how, you know they introduced you to the local girls and boys you know. Quite interesting. Jean Marsh that was. So I had her companionship for a short while and guess what? Where I went next? I’m damned sure it’s next, Scotland isn’t it?
CB: For the OTU.
FDS: OTU.
CB: Ok. So, where was that?
FDS: I’ve got the unit in mind.
CB: Elgin was it?
FDS: Pardon?
CB: Was it at Elgin?
FDS: Yeah. No, Lossie.
CB: Lossiemouth, Ok.
FDS: I met a CO of Lossie about couple of meetings [unclear] ago. I’m right aren’t it?
CB: Yeah. Lossiemouth first.
FDS: Which one was it? 12?
CB: Well, you —
FDS: Was that 12th ?
CB: That was 20.
FDS: Well, it was 12 that I went as a staff member later on. We haven’t got very far have we?
CB: We’re doing alright. So you had two OTUs. You had —
FDS: No. I went to the other OTU as an instructor.
CB: Oh right.
FDS: Between tours.
CB: Ok, yeah.
FDS: Which was the normal.
CB: Yes.
FDS: But I got off it in five months because I posted, I posted myself as you will see. I applied for a posting and I’ve got a letter there if you can read it and it says I’m applying for instruction in new instruments and it says, “No permission. No.’ Exclamation mark. ‘This man has been only been off five months and cannot be spared.’ He actually put on it. [unclear] He went off on leave that week and I went to the orderly room and I said, ‘Is there [laughs] is there a spare posting?’ They said, you know, posted. They said, ‘Yeah.’ I said, ‘I’m off.’
CB: So where did you go next?
FDS: Where am I now?
CB: So you’re at the OTU. What did you do at the OTU? You had to crew up first.
FDS: Oh yeah. That was when one of the Royals flew into the hill and got killed didn’t he? They were, what they were doing they were using —
CB: The Duke of Kent.
FDS: Wellingtons until they were knackered and then they put them on to OTU where they were even more knackered and that’s what happened. He was on training I think, very sad.
CB: The Duke of Kent. Yeah.
FDS: It was. Yeah.
CB: So, you got to Lossiemouth. What? How did you crew up?
FDS: Just stood around in a heap as usual. They were crewing up and I crewed up with Alec Watson. I must be, I want you to be very, very careful and scrupulous. I’m sure you will be here. If I say he, he became a bit diffident in sight of a target. He finished. He was all right. He didn’t go off LMF but they would have posted him off LMF if somebody had witnessed it I’m sure. He never [pause] he hesitated. But I should have thought that fifty percent of them hesitated.
CB: Are we talking about at the OTU?
FDS: Hmm?
CB: Are we talking about at the OTU.
FDS: Not at the OTU. At that point. No.
CB: Right.
FDS: Later on when I was training, when I was instructing at OTU he did bullseyes. What was a bullseye then?
CB: They were practice raids weren’t they?
FDS: Yeah, they were going out, tipping the, actually when 617 did their job I think somebody said no other aircraft? What a load of rubbish. I’ve got one veg which is down as a no sortie by some bloke. Six and a half hours. No sortie. I could have kicked him in the crutch. He obviously was not an operator. He just signed it, you know and said oh [pause]. Naughty that. Worst things that was done. But I crewed up there with Watson. The rear gunner of that crew was killed later. I could have found out how but I didn’t see anymore. I thought, well that’s being a bit morbid. The others survived their, that one tour so —
CB: So you became a crew at the OTU.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Was the, were you did the whole crew then go on to the squadron?
FDS: Yeah.
CB: So which —
FDS: I think. Can I — [pause]
CB: We’ll stop again.
[recording paused]
CB: So from the OTU you were posted to a squadron. What was that and what were they flying?
FDS: 196 Wellingtons. I’d better have that back again now.
CB: Where were they?
FDS: I remember. Hmm?
CB: Where were they flying from?
FDS: Just north of York.
CB: Linton on Ouse, was it?
FDS: No.
[pause]
FDS: Just as well it’s been dealt with as an archive, isn’t it? 196 May, Picton, ah [pause] December ’42.
[pause]
[recording paused]
CB: April ’43. Right. So, 196 was April ’43.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Right.
FDS: It says here.
CB: That was the full crew.
FDS: Ops Duisburg. Yeah.
CB: From the OTU.
FDS: Well, a full crew of five isn’t it? Ops to Duisburg. Oh, and gardening. Gardening looked like a soft option. It wasn’t. I can remember we went there. Six aircraft went gardening with a couple of mines and only us came back. And there’s six hours and five minutes. That’s not [pause] that’s rather a long time in enemy territory. There we are, and ’43, 196, May. Do we want any of those?
CB: Well, just to know what did you do in. What sort of raids were you doing in your Wellington with 196?
FDS: Killing people with —
CB: But where?
FDS: Mixed bomb loads.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Not very big bomb loads really in retrospect.
CB: But where were the targets?
FDS: Well, Germany. At that time, anyway. I don’t think they did anything. I’m trying to think of any others. I don’t think so. Dortmund. Oh, Dortmund. DNCO. Not Carried Out. Two hours fifty. Doesn’t say why, but it does say an air test. We did another one gardening. You see why I was allowed to go off on my own I think. There’s another one.? No you wouldn’t know the sortie. Six hours five minutes. Return from St Eval.
CB: Because gardening is mine laying.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: And what height would you fly when you were dropping mines?
FDS: Well, above nought feet but not much above fifteen hundred. If you did it, if you did it very much lower they’d go off and if you did it much higher they’d go off. So they were always, we had a Naval chap come round and explained the fusing, very carefully. The [pause] we, we had bombs and things. You had two, two little cavities. One cavity had liquid in it and the other didn’t. Well, the one that didn’t was sent out and of course they’d drill and say, ‘Ah a one cavity bomb,’ and then they’d drill them again and bang it would go off. They altered them all the time. A fuse [unclear] Some of them, some of them pretty obviously were more or less instant which is difficult.
CB: You’re talking about the bomb disposal people dealing with the bombs when they were found.
FDS: Made it very difficult.
CB: Ok.
FDS: Return from St Eval [pages turning] 196, June, gardening Lorient, DCO. Return from East Moor, engine spare. Air to air bombing practice, air test, air firing. Here we are. 21st Krefeld. Two five hundred, seven small bomb containers, DCO. The 22nd ops Mülheim. Two five hundreds, seven small bomb containers.
CB: What governed the choice of bombs then? The combinations.
FDS: The CO. Well, the command group.
CB: But it was to do with the target was it?
FDS: Group would decide.
CB: Yes.
FDS: Well, if it would burn well they’d have more incendiaries.
CB: Right.
FDS: If it’s, I, I get the impression that if accuracy was the first call you’d have your armour piercing. So, at low level you’d have, well I’d hope they were long [laughs] long on weight, you know. Low level you didn’t do small bomb containers. Where are we now? Mülheim, Elberfeld, Gelsenkirchen. Five and a half hours. Five fifteen. Six ten. A long time isn’t it over enemy territory? June — ops Cologne. Four five hundreds. They did aim at legitimate targets, you know. The actual bomb. I don’t know if you’ve seen the bomb maps. Have you seen the actual, the night maps?
CB: Where the bombs are dropped.
FDS: Where the black, yeah.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Where there were, I’ve got some but I’m not sure where they are if you want. Oh. A Monica test. Yeah.
CB: So just describe Monica would you?
FDS: Oh, I can’t.
CB: So, that’s your tail warning radar.
FDS: They could pick us up very well.
CB: For night fighters.
FDS: They could pick us up very well. July — St Nazaire. Return from Chivenor. That was six hours forty minutes. Ops Cologne five hours. Advanced base Harwell. Gardening Lorient, six hours ten minutes. That was on the 5th. Gardening Lorient again.
CB: So you did quite a bit of mine laying.
FDS: Yeah. Did a —
CB: And how did you feel about that?
FDS: That was about the time, was that about the time they were trying to run the battleships, the German battleships —
CB: Yes.
FDS: Were trying to run up the coast.
CB: The Scharnhorst and the Gneisenau.
FDS: And we were trying to drop mines.
CB: In the way.
FDS: [unclear] relatively harmless bullets I suppose.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Because they all went off at different [unclear]. Watson, gardening again Lorient. Gardening Dutch coast.
Other: On a run was it, were you occupied all the time or were you —
FDS: Oh, yes. You were frightened from when you took off. Nervous shall we say. Yeah. Nervous before take-off because you could land at the end of the runway with a full bomb load which was not very comfortable. It happened the odd time. Then you were going around and around missing each other in the clouds if you were lucky and then you went at what? At ten thousand feet. You could be shot down over your own airfield. Some were.
Other: By whom?
FDS: Germans.
Other: Right.
FDS: They were only twenty minutes flight from Britain remember. They could get over here very quickly.
CB: I’m just going to stop there for a mo.
[recording paused]
FDS: Well, you were always busy because you were navigating your entry. Two navigators in effect. They and what you could call broadly a DR navigator and the IT.
CB: So the dead reckoning navigator —
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Is the DR. And the IT is the one using the electronics.
FDS: That’s right.
CB: Ok. So we’ll come to those in a moment.
FDS: We swapped them around a bit.
CB: Right. And on, so on your tour with 196, did you do the full tour or did you then go and do something else?
FDS: No. 196 after about twenty operations 196 for some reason was, well a good reason converted to Halifaxes. Some of it was diverted to Halifaxes. I think Watson with the remainder of that crew, I think they went on to Halifaxes to finish that tour and I flew spare. I flew spare. All sorts of odds and sods. Flight Commander Edmondson was one but as Squadron leader.
CB: But still in, still in Wellingtons you were flying spare.
FDS: I think this was Stirlings.
CB: You —
FDS: That was it. I’m sorry. I’m confusing myself here.
CB: Right. So, just to step back a bit 196 you did twenty ops.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: And at the end of your twenty ops what did you switch to?
FDS: Well, I think I was Stirlings.
CB: You did.
FDS: I know I was on —
CB: Never on a Halifax.
FDS: No Halifax.
CB: No. Right.
FDS: The Stirling was a hell of a rotten aircraft, I think.
CB: What was, what was the point of the Stirling?
FDS: It didn’t climb very well. It was electrical more or less throughout so that you could select undercarriage up, and then select undercarriage down and one wheel would come down. So you’d say to the trainee crew, ‘You can find, finds yourself a handle and you can turn that two hundred times, and that will lower the wheel, and if you’re lucky it will lock and show, and do you do that?’ And we said, ‘No, we don’t do that.’ ‘What do you do?’ ‘Well, we select down, one wheel comes down, we select it back up again and then we hit the [laughs] hit the plug hard with the nearest blunt instrument and it comes down.’ They were very heavy too. They couldn’t climb. We took, in the early days did a climbing test around Wales. Not very good. And I went with a squadron leader, I think. Modane Tunnel. We had to go round the taller mountains to get down to the Modane Tunnel.
CB: I’m just going to stop a mo.
[recording paused]
CB: In, in flying with 196 it says that you got to the end of the tour.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Having done twenty nine and a half. What was the half?
FDS: Some idiot’s impression. That is you know —
CB: It was an operation that wasn’t more than a certain number of hours was it?
FDS: I don’t know what the [pause] I never queried.
CB: Right.
FDS: I never queried anything like that.
CB: So, you got to the end of the tour. What happened next?
FDS: Trainee. I was training.
CB: Yes. So you, you were posted to an OTU.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: That was at Chipping Warden.
FDS: There was two instructors per course. You know, ex-ops. And what they were doing we had correctly, we did the rule book instructions, and then what was more useful to them was telling them the contemporary position which was more useful really. So that we, you know you don’t know what to expect if you were fresh off a training course. And the first time I went up I was seeing flashes. I said, ‘What are the flashes?’ You know. Little things like that [laughs] ‘People firing at us,’ they said. I said, ‘Are they near?’ ‘If you’re near you’ll hear it. And if they’re very near you’ll smell it.’ Dead right, yeah. You’re as naïve as that. It’s a great shame. A lot of bumping going on. Of course you suddenly realised there a, later on with Lancasters of course four hundred all going, all briefed for the same trip. So if they followed it literally they were flying up each other’s jacksy nearly I would think.
CB: So at the end of your tour with 196 you went to number 12 OTU at Chipping Warden.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: So, there were two. A specialist for each. There were two navigators there doing the instruction. You were one of them. How often did you fly?
FDS: I’m just wondering if the other one was, yes, he must have been. How often? Well, I don’t know. It says it down there.
CB: But I mean in practical terms how often did the —
FDS: Didn’t seem.
CB: Trainee crew have a navigator with them?
FDS: Ah, I see. Well, there was a requisite amount and I can’t remember what it was, it would. Does twenty hours sound sensible?
CB: Was it? Right. Might have been. Yeah.
FDS: It’s —
CB: But, but most of the training you did was on the ground was it of the trainee aircrew at the Operational Training Unit?
FDS: I would think, yes. Yeah.
CB: And if you went on a trip with them you’d be standing next to them.
FDS: Oh yeah. Yeah. Be with them. Yeah.
CB: So, what were your impressions of being an instructor?
FDS: Well, you recognised the essentials of it. And because Command, whoever it is can never be as updated as the people that come off ops. And the advances in tactics and technology of both parties was extreme by about that time. From there on all sorts of technology had been flourished. And Germans showed great courage I thought. And tenacity. I met one or two since, you know. Post war. Very interesting. One chap had over sixty Lancasters to his credit. Six or eight in a night.
CB: Amazing isn’t it?
FDS: Yeah. They were good at it.
CB: So, how, how does the time, how did it at the OTU how long did you stay there normally? Did you know how long you were going to be there?
FDS: You were supposed to be, as it says in the, my CO’s note. You were supposed to be off six months minimum.
CB: Right.
FDS: Generally about a year. Six months to a year.
CB: Right. So, in May ’44 you finished at 12 OTU, and you went to a Heavy Conversion Unit.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: And that was 1678.
FDS: That’s at Waterbeach that.
CB: Right.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: And what were you flying there?
FDS: Lancasters. Don’t ask me which mark. They played about with Marks 1, 2, and 3 and I never knew which we were on.
CB: Right.
FDS: They were, they were very similar. Very similar.
CB: And because you’d been an OTU then you weren’t coming through as an instructor. You weren’t coming through to the HCU as a student. You were a qualified person so how did you crew up in the HCU?
FDS: I went as an odd man.
CB: All the time or just temporarily?
FDS: As soon as I got there. I wanted to get back on a squadron and have a bit of freedom.
CB: Sure.
FDS: Complete freedom.
CB: So, how long were you, but when you, as an odd man but didn’t you crew up with anybody there?
FDS: I think it may say it. That’s my escape picture, isn’t it?
CB: Yeah. Your escape picture in here.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: So at the, what my question is at the HCU. The HCU was the point from which people joined a squadron.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: So normally it was a complete crew that would transfer from the HCU —
FDS: Yeah.
CB: To the squadron. So, how did you fit into that?
FDS: They needed a bomb aimer.
CB: Yeah. You were put —
FDS: Bomb aiming.
CB: You did bomb aiming did you?
FDS: I think they wanted a bomb aimer.
CB: Right.
FDS: Because I kept putting down bomb aimer forever more. Yeah.
CB: So, at the HCU you were bomb aiming.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Ok. And what was the aircraft?
FDS: I think by this —
CB: So that was the Lancaster.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: And then you went to a squadron.
FDS: That’s right.
CB: And that was 514.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Ok. So what was the crew like there? Your pilot was Warrant Officer Beaton.
FDS: Yeah, inexperienced but good. He died as Flying Officer Beaton DSO and he thoroughly earned it both times. But he, he and his crew, I’d left, I always leave just before they have an accident. I left and they, I left at the time I’d finished a tour and he went over the day after the war ended to bring back prisoners of war and crashed. Killed the lot. So —
CB: Operation Exodus.
FDS: Hmmn?
CB: Operation Exodus, yes.
FDS: Yeah. Or something like that. So, I was very careful how I trod because I wrote to the, the Air Force itself and said, “What’s the account of this?” They couldn’t account for it. I thought they might say pilot error. They didn’t. And they were quite right. The bodies were all in the back of the aircraft and in practice what should have happened whoever was being loadmaster as they now call the bomb aimer presumably say, ‘You sit there and don’t move a bloody muscle. It doesn’t matter what reason.’ Because you know the inside of a Lanc and if you grab on any bit of it you’re impeding and the, what do you call it when you push forward? When you put the nose down.
CB: When you put the control column down. Yeah.
FDS: What’s the —
CB: So, the elevators. Yeah.
FDS: No. No. No. The trim.
CB: Oh, the trimmer, the trimmer, yeah.
FDS: The trim was full forward.
CB: Oh, was it?
FDS: He was complaining that he’d got some sort of aircraft fault. He was going to make some sort of emergency landing and of course he did that with them all scuttling in a panic. I mean I was sorry for them. They’d been in prison for three or four years or more and they’d perhaps had never flown before. So the right thing to do is to say, ‘You’ve never flown before but this lot have and they’ve done it safely and there’s no enemy fire. Sit where you are and don’t — ’ You would be very conscious of the centre of gravity, and if one went to the rear and the others tried to rescue him.
CB: Do you know where the plane crashed?
FDS: Forward trim.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: And it was forward trimmed. Did a flat spin within about twenty minutes of the take off.
CB: Oh, did it? From Belgium.
FDS: France.
CB: Oh France, was it?
FDS: Just on the edge. They are all buried just out, on the edge of the district where all the riots were happening. The French suburbs. I can’t think of the name of it.
CB: Right.
FDS: It’ll come. But the whole lot, great shame. Captains to privates and an Americans who’d thumbed a lift illegally. Well, improperly rather.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Not illegally.
CB: So, it might have been overloaded anyway.
FDS: Only one.
CB: So, when you were —
FDS: Twenty three.
CB: Pardon?
FDS: Twenty three of them.
CB: In the aircraft. With 514 what are your recollections of flying with that Lancaster squadron?
FDS: I thoroughly enjoyed it. I liked the daylights. Some people didn’t. They preferred the nights. But I preferred the daylights. You could see where you were and what you were doing precisely. Real precision stuff, you know. And they were good.
CB: How accurately did you think you could bomb?
FDS: Well, I’m not bragging. A hundred percent. I could do it. But only because of the kit I had I hasten to add. The kit we had at the end was brilliant, but if you asked me how it worked [laughs] it was modern IT before they’d even dreamed of it I think. The Mark 14 was quite a good sight.
CB: Bombsight. Yes.
FDS: Quite a good bomb sight. You could bomb reasonably accurately with that. There was not an excuse normally for being over about what fifty yards with that I would think. But with the latest stuff you could be spot on. That’s why I’m sure you are. I read these people saying they should be more careful in their bombing, and I think just get up there and give yourself precisely thirty seconds to make a decision because that’s what you’d got. And now we had longer to make a decision. A bit longer, anyway. Yeah.
CB: So, when you were lying down in the front operating the bombsight what’s going through your mind looking down at the flak coming up at you?
FDS: Oh, very little. I didn’t [laughs] I have a convenient mind. I shut off. So it gets familiar. The minute I’m free of direct responsibility but —
CB: But actually you’ve got your eye on the target haven’t you? So —
FDS: Absolutely.
CB: So, you’re not —
FDS: Full marks for that. Absolute concentration. Regardless of anything else. But once it’s done it’s done, that’s it.
CB: And after the bombs have gone then you have to wait for the camera to work.
FDS: Yeah, for flash work. The flash had a nasty habit of exploding once every so often.
CB: In the aeroplane.
FDS: It’s like a bomb going off. A bloody great hole.
CB: Did it happen on your plane?
FDS: Not with the Lanc.
CB: So, you joined 514 in June, just at D-Day.
FDS: When?
CB: You joined 514 Squadron —
FDS: Yeah.
CB: In June 1944.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: So D-Day time.
FDS: Yeah. Yeah.
CB: So that’s why you had a lot of daylight bombing wasn’t it?
FDS: Before, during and after. Yeah.
CB: Yes.
FDS: Got a nice letter from the French. With the [pause] that nice little brigadier general to give the award.
CB: Your Legion of Honour.
FDS: Pardon?
CB: They gave you the Legion of Honour.
FDS: Yeah. They gave it to six Typhoon pilots and me.
CB: Did they?
FDS: Wrote a kind letter. A very nice letter as well from the [pause] whoever was the deputy to the man who was boss then.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: It was a very good letter as we. One of the more thoughtful letters I’ve ever received officially. Very good. I’ve got it somewhere.
Other: They singled you out as —
FDS: Couldn’t single out seven thousand.
Other: No. So it was — yeah.
FDS: They single you out in the sense that they give you a decent personal reply and a decent personal awarding.
CB: On three of your trips with 514 you flew as a gunner, a rear as the rear gunner, two of them.
FDS: Hmmn?
CB: You flew as a rear gunner.
FDS: That may well be.
CB: On a couple of occasions.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Well, I did all the courses.
CB: Yeah, ok. So when you came to the end of that tour of 514 what happened next?
FDS: Well, I saw my CO because I was going to be posted and I said, ‘I gather I’m being posted. I’d like to, you know, I’d like to go back to my reserved job now if I’m not going to, can I fly anymore?’ And he said, ‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t think so.’ So I said, ‘Well, you’re the boss.’ ‘What are you going to do then?’ I said, ‘I’d like to go back to [unclear] I’m going back to agriculture.’ Which I did.
CB: So, how did it work? You had the conversation with him but how did the mechanism work?
FDS: Ah. Walking along [pause] somebody, who was it? We passed the, what do they call them these days? I don’t know. Further education training officer on the squadron.
CB: Right.
FDS: F&ET I think it was called and they could make recommendations I gather. And he said, ‘What are you doing as you’re moving off?’ And I said, ‘Well, I don’t know really. If I could move off I’d go — ’ I said, ‘I’m going back to agriculture anyway.’ He said, ‘What were you doing before?’ I said, ‘Well, I’d been at agricultural college. I’d hope to do a diploma and be decently qualified. It’s no good saying I can do a bit of farming. You can prove that by showing it but to know it you’ve got to do it and I’m out of touch.’ So, he said, ‘What about, what about a graduation? What do — ? ’ I said, ‘First of all I don’t think I could do it, and secondly I don’t know that it would be necessarily a great advantage to be a graduate in it.’ So, I rang up my friend who had been put in other words, he was reserve through health. He was genuine enough. He had graduated through London University, I think. I rang him up. I remember the call very well and I said, ‘The Royal Air Force through the offices of the squadron have decided that I could have a degree course. What do you think?’ He said, ‘What do you think?’ I said , ‘Well, I’d do it if I think it would be of any value, but I can’t see how it would be of direct value to me and it would be three more years.’ I said, ‘I’m already six years behind everybody else. I said, ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I’m six and a half years ruddy years.’ [laughs] He said, ‘You’ll walk it.’ I said, ‘What makes you say that and he said we’ve kept your brain alive during the war and it hasn’t gone to sleep in the last forty eight. He said , ‘I’d go.’ So that was it. I went to see the F&E. He arranged an interview in London. Oh, they got in touch with the principal of the college I’d been at. Had I any reference? So, I said no, so they referred to the old chap who very gladly backed me up which I thought was very kind. And who else signed it? Anyway, I got a couple of references and I was accepted on the next course where there was the opportunity.
CB: Where was this?
FDS: Durham. I applied for Cambridge actually, taking it that it was near Waterbeach and I knew the area fairly well and guess what? They were full. They were full. Almost as soon as I applied they were full anyway. They were about eighty ninety percent ex-service being fair to the universities and they were very good.
CB: So when was this?
FDS: I got married. All these things happened at once. I left the Air Force. I left the Air Force in ‘45 did I? Or ’46. I got married. I was married when I was still in the Air Force. We were. And I was in charge of MT for a few months. Well, nominally in charge. A flight sergeant found himself suddenly [unclear] [laughs] I said, ‘Who runs this unit? I do so far as you’ll continue. When I leave you can inherit it if you like.’ [laughs] So he ran it. He was very good.
CB: What rank were you at this, at this stage?
FDS: Warrant officer.
CB: Right. So just take —
FDS: Yes. On my first unit, the 196 said you can go, you can go on for commissioning. I said, ‘No. I don’t want to be a tiny fish in a tiny pool.’ And it didn’t seem very, I said, ‘It’s not my career. It’s not my choice.’ When I said I didn’t particularly want to fly, true.
CB: Let’s take a step back.
FDS: Just kill people.
CB: You finished in 514.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: Where did you get posted or did you remain with the transport at Waterbeach?
[pause]
FDS: I wasn’t at, I wasn’t at Waterbeach for transport.
CB: Oh, right. So where, where did you get posted to?
FDS: That unit was Hucknall.
CB: Right.
FDS: Watnall. Watnall. RAF Watnall, W A T N A L L. It was also a Rolls Royce area. Watnall, Hucknall. I was so damned busy leaving the Air Force and getting married and thinking about what I was going to do to earn a living and [laughs] I went out and had a drink one night and there was some youngish blokes I thought at the bar the other end and nobody else. ‘Would you like to have a drink with us?’ So, I said, ‘Yeah. Fine.’ They said, ‘What are you doing?’ I said, ‘I’m leaving as soon as I can.’ ‘What are you going to do?’ ‘I said, ‘Well, I don’t know.’ They said, ‘Why don’t you come over for casting. We’re open casting.’ And they were open cast coal mining. He said, ‘There’s a lot of money in it.’ I said, ‘I’d be destroying the countryside.’ ‘No, you wouldn’t. We’ll put it back when we’ve finished.’ I ought to have don’t it really. I’d have had three years of extra income because I had a grant but it wasn’t as you can imagine it wasn’t overly generous.
CB: Where did you meet your wife?
FDS: This must be exceedingly tedious for you.
Other: No. No. It’s very, very interesting.
CB: Where did you meet your wife? She was a WAAF was she?
FDS: As I was driving a lorry across from, at Watnall, it wasn’t Watnall. it was Hucknall was the name of the —
CB: Right.
FDS: Hucknall. The airfield was one side and the sort of flying bit was, the flying bit was one side and the admin the other and I was going from the admin side to the flying side with a lorry. Just for the fun of the thing I think. And going down as I got to the gate guess what? There was a lady coming in on her own, and that was my wife. I saw her and I said, ‘My word, she’s new to the place.’ I knew that because it was a Polish unit.
CB: Oh.
FDS: So, I went to the orderly room and a chap called [unclear] Brown was in charge there and I said, ‘[unclear] you know everything. Who’s the lady who’s just reported in? What section?’ ‘She’s on MT.’ I said, ‘Well, well, well [laughs] We’ll put her on duty the first night she’s there. Make her [unclear] her duties are and I’ll meet her there.’ So, she said —
CB: Never looked back did you?
FDS: Hmmn?
CB: Never looked back.
FDS: I didn’t. She did [laughs] she said, she said, ‘I walked in. There was this flight sergeant who took the details because he was doing the admin. I was sitting there,’ she said, ‘This air crew bloke was sitting there with his feet on the table himself.’ I said. ‘Until you came along who else was there to please, I ask you?’
Other: Charmer.
FDS: There she is. Up there on the brown.
Other: Yeah.
FDS: Framed one.
CB: Lovely.
FDS: When I had some hair.
CB: How long did you have to wait to get out of the RAF after that?
FDS: I don’t know. It didn’t seem awfully long. A few weeks. They did, they did their best for me. I’ll tell you what I was very annoyed about. I did an MT course where I was going to supposedly to pass the time. ‘What would you like to do?’ I said, ‘Well, the flight sergeant is going to run it and I’ll do it nominally and I’m going to learn how to do it. So they posted me up to Blackpool I think it was. Blackpool, Weeton, Weeton. Does that sound right?
Other: Yeah.
FDS: Weeton.
Other: Weedon.
FDS: Hmmn?
Other: Weedon. No. Not Weedon.
FDS: Your question was again, sorry?
CB: Yes. When did you leave?
FDS: When did I leave? I’m thinking of when I left. I’m trying to relate it to courses for the time but I didn’t do the actual course. I did two weeks of the course only. That’ll be recorded. I’d been driving for years on farms. With, you know pushing hay suites and stuff.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: So I could drive and [pause] yeah.
CB: And the course was running the MT section, wasn’t it?
FDS: I did, yeah. I did about two weeks there, and the, whoever was dealing with the admin said, ‘There are four Crossley lorries to go down with four thousand pound bombs on, down to Newmarket and it will just take up the timing, you won’t have the tedium of doing the course.’ I said, ‘Well, thank you very much.’ ‘And you are in charge of it.’ And I said, ‘What bombs are they?’ ‘Four thousand pounders, but they’re empty. They’re taking them down to get them filled.’ But we had outriders with red flags and these old, you know Crossley lorries with —
Other: Yeah.
CB: Canvas roof.
FDS: Left hand drive. So, I drove my Crossley lorry. The roads cleared. The Americans would get out our way. Saw the red flags. These lorries. Took us two days to get down from Blackpool to Newmarket where I left. I don’t know what happened to the lorries. I’d done my job. Over to you. That was the last I saw of active service. I left.. Oh, I can’t remember when I left. January. Must have been January. We were married in January, weren’t we? No. We were married. Still in the Air Force. Yeah. I was still in the Air Force then.
CB: You said you were married in 1945.
FDS: Yeah. I thought. Yeah.
CB: It was fairly quick.
FDS: Oh, November to, it was from I do remember that it was from November to January. Yeah.
CB: So then you did your agricultural college at Durham. What did you do after that?
FDS: University of Durham.
CB: Durham University.
FDS: They haven’t got a farm there. They did useful stuff from my point of view. Because I was familiar with the kit then and it changed. In the same way that the Air Force changed its technology so did agriculture.
CB: How long was the agricultural course at Durham University?
FDS: Three years. And if you did an honours degree it was four.
CB: Right.
FDS: So I went to see the boss and said, ‘What do I do now? I’m seeking advice.’ He said, ‘Well, you’ve a choice. You can do an honours degree but agricultural colleges are being offered to counties and they haven’t got them established so you could get in on the ground floor if you wish. ‘But,’ he said, you know, ‘I’d back you for either.’ So I backed for three jobs. The agricultural Co-op in London, and Hartbury had just, Jack Griffiths had just bought Hartbury on behalf of the Authority. So I was one of the first as lecturer agriculture. Then became vice principal there for about thirteen years. And then I did vice principal up in Staffordshire, Penkridge.
CB: And you retired from there, did you?
FDS: I retired from there. Oh, and then [laughs] I was invited to sit on the panel for whatever it was called when they allowed farmers so much milk, you know. Milk quota. The Milk Quota Panel. Would I sit on the Milk Quota Panel for Gloucestershire? I said, ‘No. I’ll do it for any other county if you wish but not Gloucester. I’m not going to quota people I know.’ So I was quoting, quoting still people I knew in Wiltshire. Just funny really. Strange.
CB: So what brought you to Gloucester?
FDS: Hmm?
CB: What brought you here to Gloucester?
FDS: The job. The fact that I knew it. I didn’t know Gloucester. I knew of Gloucester, and I knew of Gloucestershire but I didn’t know it at all really.
CB: And at what age did you retire?
FDS: Whisper it quietly, sixty two. I was going to retire at sixty. You could retire at sixty and I had enough bottling about one way or another. I didn’t take, I didn’t think I could subject my wife to dotting about. You can see from that I was dotting about, you know.
CB: Yes. Yeah.
FDS: All the time.
CB: Yeah. How many children have you got?
FDS: There was three jobs so I went for this one and got it. It had accommodation. A clapped out cottage on the side of the main road where you turned left to go in to Hartbury. So they said just wanted to let you know. So they then put me in the corner house of the college and a very busy old lady, the butler’s wife came across. She said, ‘Captain Canning, and Captain Ramsey were there.’ I said, ‘I know but it’s been disinfected since they were there.’ They were there on, you know during the war.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: He was still there post war.
CB: Was he?
FDS: A pathetic old man. And he got married to quite a nice lady and they said she’s having a baby. I said, ‘Good. Well done.’ And it was a girl. So that was the end of George Canning, Prime Minister and foreign minister and aspiring gauleiter of the south west. He would have been.
Other: Did he go to Australia?
FDS: No.
Other: No.
FDS: Why did I say Australia?
Other: No. I was asking that.
FDS: I was in Australia.
Other: No. No. Canning.
FDS: Oh, that Canning.
Other: Yeah.
FDS: Canning was in charge of [pause] he was in charge was he? George Canning was foreign minister.
Other: Right.
FDS: Way back.
CB: How many children did you have?
FDS: Two. I’ve four grandchildren and six great grandchildren. Only one grand-daughter. Don’t put down regrettably because the others might read that [laughs]
CB: Right.
FDS: You never know anyway.
CB: Finally, what would you say was the most memorable point of the war for you?
FDS: Meeting my wife. It was.
CB: What was the —
FDS: Memorable of the actual war [pause] I think the second tour. And I would say particularly in daylight. I don’t know if she, I don’t think it should be recorded because I, I had an understanding with my superiors of 514 that we could please ourselves, Weeton and I, within reason. So that if for some reason you didn’t have a primary.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: You could go and do a secondary.
CB: Sure.
FDS: And it was about the time that Montgomery would ring up and say, ‘I can’t move out of — ’ it wasn’t Le Havre. It was —
Other: Caen. Caen.
FDS: Caen. ‘Can you make it that it possible for me to go?’ He told Harris. Harris was fresh from area bombing so Harris raced three hundred Lancs down to a town the size Newham, and it was a pile of rubble. He came with his tanks through it. They couldn’t put anything through it for about a week.
CB: Right.
FDS: Yeah. Oh, great fun. And Villers-Bocage was another place I knew. They got stopped there and the Germans ill advisedly, well advisedly actually had a practice Panzer group and they were practicing, and they were practicing right near our troops conveniently for them and they were about to set off the following day we were told. And they were in a wood outside. Villers-Bocage is a nice little village now but there was a great big hole there after we went there. Three hundred Lancs. They all bombed. The dust came up to ten thousand feet.
CB: Did it really?
FDS: Unbelievable.
CB: Wiped them out.
FDS: People banged into each other which that was a loss. Easy to do if you’re fairly close.
CB: And so the —
FDS: But that was a good job. I thought it was a good job anyway. I was sorry for the people underneath.
CB: Wiped out the whole thing, yeah.
FDS: What?
CB: Wiped out the whole thing.
FDS: Oh, not very nice for them at all.
CB: No. When there, when there were air to air collisions, what normally happened then?
FDS: Well, at least one is lost normally. I don’t know why that is really. What happens. Nothing really can happen but I see discipline. If you’re told to fly in a loose gaggle who can blame you? What about when you drop your bombs through somebody underneath you? That happened as well.
CB: Did you see that happen?
FDS: No. I saw where it had happened. You know, a Lanc with the front of it off. They stopped short at the sort of windscreen virtually. Bought it. Nasty.
CB: You alluded a bit earlier to a situation that has the heading LMF.
FDS: Hmmn?
CB: So, what do you recall about lacking moral fibre in terms of —
FDS: I think the words lack of moral fibre is a disgrace to the Service. An easier way could have been chosen. They paid us the compliment of imagining that we’d all run away, I think and they thought we’d be frightened of that. That wouldn’t frighten me in to running away from it. Fear would do it. I had to go on bombing and experience fear for the only time in my life. I had not been frightened before. You don’t go through life frightened if you’re fortunate do you?
CB: No.
FDS: But I did then. I was frightened out of my guts, dear me. Mentally praying to everything in sight and not in sight.
CB: Are you talking about as a navigator or as a bomb aimer?
FDS: Either. Either in terms of fear. You’ve got to suppress it. I don’t meant that. It sounds terribly brave. If you are of a certain temperament that is what you are I think. And if your temperament is average which I’m a great mind you have your fears and you overcome them, don’t you? Really. It sounds terribly brave. If you survived that is.
CB: Sure.
FDS: Sounds good but everybody has the, I mean people say now, people, youngsters couldn’t do it. I disagree entirely. That abuses the unknown doesn’t it? I’ve got, obviously got lads there. They could do it, and if necessary they would do it. I think they’d [pause] I don’t know if they found it unnecessary, I would now. I don’t, it’s not a solution to anything. I don’t know what you do instead of bombing in Syria. I’m not that clever.
CB: You talked about one of the, your early captains having some difficulty.
FDS: I think he had a difficulty, and I think he overcame it within his limits to overcome it. But if you’re not, it sounds horrible, if you’re not prepared to press on really thoroughly you shouldn’t really be there. It’s doubtful whether it’s the right place for you.
CB: So, in circumstances where people felt they couldn’t continue what happened?
FDS: You never knew really. I heard rumours. People said they, I think it depended where, where you happened to be. I heard various stories about people being paraded and stripped of the badges, rank. What the hell difference would it make if you finished anyway? So, they’d take the stripes off or crowns or whatever. I don’t know. And they put them into [pause] I think that was a damned cheek. Put them into a labouring units, you know.
CB: Hard labour.
FDS: Hmmn?
CB: Hard labour.
FDS: Probably.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: I don’t know. It’s not a thing I can ever remember people discussing. We didn’t discuss our fears. I wouldn’t have been as candid with my own crew members as I am with you. No chance.
CB: And with the crew —
FDS: You’d admit fright, yes.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Every, you can say especially anybody that says they weren’t frightened weren’t [laughs] they just weren’t there. At some point.
CB: Did it vary do you think according to the position in the aircraft? The role.
FDS: I think the gun, gunnery must have felt frightened because they were in isolation. But I couldn’t see the logic of people that talk about them but not the gunners themselves. Very dangerous position. Now, if you were a German pilot for the latter part of the active war when most of the killing of everything was done they divided, they tumbled the corkscrew very quickly. We knew they would. But some people didn’t and they corkscrewed so the German comes back, flies straight through the bottom part of the corkscrew underneath the aircraft, guns made and manufactured to fire upwards. Comes under the bomb bay, bump. Dissolved. There’s one flash and the lot’s gone. Now, I can understand how these people could shoot down forty to sixty easily. The dangerous bit was going in to the stream of four or five hundred aircraft who didn’t know what they were doing.
CB: In the dark.
FDS: Much more dangerous. And all of them carrying about two thousand gallons of fuel, a couple of thousand gallons of explosive of one sort or another. And fabric. Bloody cold at minus thirty with no heating [laughs] Ah but you had this woolly jacket. Didn’t you just.
CB: Did you prefer being in the Lancaster or in the Wellington?
FDS: Oh yeah. The Wellington was a wonderful aircraft of its day. It would equal the Lancaster in its virtues I think. In, in it’s possible virtues. You can climb on one engine with a four thousand pounder. The wings flap normally. That much is as you are aware and in four thousand pounder on a 1C of a Mark 10 held its [laughs] I surrender. Keeping it straight it’s not flapping at all. No. It’s, I think you admire an aircraft design that can carry eight twelve thousand pounds in one bomb. I could admire the man who can design that, and designed the Lanc. Chadwick was the Lanc and my other man whose name I’ve conveniently forgotten [pause] damn it. Bouncing bomb.
CB: Yeah. Barnes Wallis.
FDS: Barnes Wallis.
CB: Barnes Wallis. Yeah.
FDS: He designed the Wellington.
CB: The Wellington. Yeah.
FDS: Brilliant design. Every design he had is brilliant, and I believed the film that I’ve seen once or twice a very modest man. Very modest.
CB: You had two different crews on operations. How—
FDS: More than —
CB: How did they compare?
FDS: More than two different crews.
CB: Oh, did you? Right. So, how did the crews gel?
FDS: I think very well. Not just to say it. I haven’t thought of it so that’s why, why I’m quite sure. I wouldn’t hesitate to go on ops with them.
CB: So there are two parts of it. One is on ops and the other is socially.
FDS: Ah, well I was odd man out a bit. I did say, perhaps ill-advisedly when we were with the Lancs I said, ‘We have to discuss,’ which we did, ‘The possibility of bailing out and evading and we obviously are not going to evade as seven. That would be bloody silly. I do my division properly. I reckon there were three twos. I’ll volunteer for several reasons,’ I said. ‘One, I’m the only man on this crew who can make rabbit snares out of parachute wire. I’m the only man in this crew that can do [unclear] loud enough to know.’ I said, ‘Anyway, I know my way about, you don’t, but please yourself.’ ‘Big headed.’ I said, ‘That too.’ That too. No. I wouldn’t hesitate. I had the one slight reservation. I think Watson was unkind to himself really because he was very newly married. To be newly married on ops going into what looks like a living hell, and the general activity going on. It’s enough to frighten anybody that’s intelligent anyway. And if you’re frightened you slow down, don’t you? I suppose.
CB: But what do you mean by being unkind to himself?
FDS: Well, the very fact that you can, don’t quote any of this please. Don’t quote any of this.
CB: No.
FDS: Because I’d deny it. There you are. But unkind to yourself. If at some point in your life you desire to do something, and you know inside yourself you were desperately uncomfortable with doing it you’re not only heroic you’re being unkind to yourself aren’t you?
CB: Right.
FDS: No. Slow down. He wasn’t alone. I reckon four hundred aircraft. I reckon four hundred of them it was listed in many publications that fall back before they routed ops over. They didn’t know in our early days. They didn’t always route you over the target. You see on, veg, veg, you know on target with this we were very much on target. No. It’s, there was a drop back and it’s been noted in many. You must have read them surely. Which is why they routed people over target and round. That was bloody clever. And then they, [laughs] see why do you have people to train? I said, ‘Wind velocity is a dodgy thing so always check WV if you’re navigating. And even if, whatever part of the navigation you are and even, even if your crew are doing spot checks see what’s happening.
CB: You got the crew to help you with regular —
FDS: Hmm?
CB: You, you got the crew to help you with the wind velocity observations regularly did you?
FDS: Oh yeah.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Yeah. I’m a strong believer in if you’ve got grounding in DR and you’ve got it and you could find the wind velocity and you’ve got a driver that’s obedient you’re alright. So, I said to Beaton, ‘You and I are going to get on very well, if I obey you and you obey me.’ I said, ‘You’re not going to be bossing me. I’ll boss you at least twenty minutes of it anyway.’ Well, you can’t have it. I think that must have happened with drop back. I can’t believe that a bomb aimer would sit there and sort of not get there as it were.
CB: You mean the whole crew was complicit in a way in running.
FDS: Well, I wouldn’t like to say.
CB: Right.
FDS: The others wouldn’t notice it. They’d be too damned busy. The wireless operator, well they’d be gunning and looking out for not bumping into, bumping into other aircraft I would think.
CB: So, in dropping back how would, how would that actually work?
FDS: We’d decelerate. De-throttle.
CB: Right.
FDS: Not noticeably, you know. Bring it up and you throttle back. You’re not just the [unclear] of it, you make a change. If you’ve got a headwind you used to keep going in that headwind. You could always blame the head wind. One classic occasion I can remember was, I can’t remember which one it was but obviously half the amount, half the number. Say there were two hundred, a hundred of them flew on the forecast wind and a hundred of us took our own. And the fellows who took our own got their earlier. The others came up later and we were flying back on a reciprocal course. So a hundred. Not very nice at all. You had to tumble quickly what happened.
CB: Normally after the bomb run you would turn which way?
FDS: After a bomb run well you’d run. You’d overshoot.
CB: Yes.
FDS: For the distance.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: You need to overshoot and then you’d turn. Not always starboard because if you did that always they’d be hanging about over there wouldn’t they?
CB: But you would go starboard normally would you?
FDS: There you are. I think so. I don’t know why really.
CB: You overshoot so you’re not hit by other bombs coming down, but you also do it to take the picture.
FDS: Oh, you are hit sometimes by bombs coming down.
CB: Was there, was there a prescribed time from the overshoot from release.
FDS: No.
CB: So what would you do?
FDS: It was assumed that you would drop your bombs and drop them in the right place, and they were right to stick to that assumption. Otherwise, we could have made the modifications on everything else that they could guess. No, you do as you’re told really.
CB: Yeah.
FDS: Mostly. If you wanted to draw a quick archivist comment that would be it. What is the account of bomber operations? I think, ‘Get on with it. Do as you’re told.’ And largely that works because it’s been based on other people’s experiences hasn’t it really?
CB: But how would the holding back work? How would it work for the crew holding back?
FDS: I don’t know.
CB: You were talking about earlier the crew held back.
FDS: Yeah.
CB: What would happen then? They’d get caught up back by the rest of the stream wouldn’t they?
FDS: They could be. I didn’t worry about them.
CB: No. As long as they weren’t in front of you.
FDS: Yeah. Quite. Nobody, I nearly said nobody, very few were in front of us. I think one of the great advantages we had was that we decided early on we, Beaton had that going for him.
CB: What was your worst experience would you say in the war?
FDS: Mine? [pause] I don’t know really. In terms of fright I suppose being frightened, that would be, yeah that would be the worst experience. Being frightened because it was, I’d never known it before.
CB: No.
FDS: I wasn’t afraid of everything in sight to survive. Prior to that I had no reason to believe I wasn’t going to survive. But actually the element of personal risk comes in. You’ve been hit, begin to believe in your own omnificence. You’ll survive anything. And up to a point I suppose it’s true.
CB: Yeah. Well, you did a lot of ops didn’t you?
FDS: Yeah. Hmm?
CB: You did a lot of ops.
FDS: Yeah. Yeah. I suppose I did. Yeah. Well, in fact I know I did. Actually I’ve no idea how much more than average. I don’t know what was the average overall. I know that most crews that were shot down were shot down in their first eight. And I know that I slept in the same shed as other people. The Committee of Adjustment would come round and take their kit out. That was, that’s a bit unnerving.
CB: Was it?
FDS: Not unnerving but it wasn’t, wasn’t quite the thing really. Perhaps, come around and take the kit before or after we were there [pause] Take the kit out and make room for the replacements.
Other: How long, did you have any sense of getting over it after, after the action had finished?
FDS: Older?
Other: No. Did you have any sense of getting over it? I mean it was a terribly stressful time I presume. So, today —
FDS: I don’t [pause] We always stress differently I imagine. I don’t know. There are great similarities but we’re all different. If I’m doing, give you an example that’s non - operational. Coming out of Gloucester there’s a causeway and there’s room for two vehicles going in and two coming out. I was coming out and for me everything stops to, I heard a police siren, and I thought what the hell is that bloke doing? He can’t be on my side of the road because there’s only two rows and two rows, a lorry there, a car here, a lorry de da de da. I thought what the hell is he doing? All this in a split second. And I thought the bastard’s coming up this road and if he comes up this road he’s going to have me off If he’s not careful. I can’t get him off. There’s not room to manoeuvre which I’ll certainly do if he’s coming at me. And the lorry there was just beginning to do that and I was just beginning to do that, and I thought well I’m not going to harm the lorry. And fortunately at that point he just stopped. He stopped hooting and it straightened. But there was a direct drop of about thirty feet there and you were two feet off it. That made you think a bit, you know. What do you do here, clever lad? But I’m not conscious of stress then at all. You know, I’m in command of myself and the vehicle. Frightened out of my wits but still in command. I think that’s the answer. People who go around in life hectoring other people being in command have a habit of surviving. Perhaps that’s what I noticed, I don’t know. Not a very good answer is it? I don’t know the answer.
CB: Why do you think after the war, why do you think after the war so few veterans from all the Services didn’t want to talk about what they’d done.
FDS: Well, they’d been living it for seven years, six years. I was newly married, got a new family to meet, and people to meet. I’d got to go to get a job. Too busy. And I don’t, I did, I haven’t got [pause] I hope I come across as a desire to do it now, quite honestly. I’m prepared to do it now because it seems a bit small minded not too.
CB: Well, it’s something that’s really interesting for people to understand what was going on.
FDS: I think the difficulty I see, and this is truth, I haven’t consciously lied at any point. I don’t think I would. I think people are tempted to lie, and I think some people most obviously lie and I despise that. If you’ve got the need to lie don’t go.
CB: Well, that’s been most fascinating. Thank you very much, Don Say
FDS: I’m sorry.
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 Frederick Donovan Say
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
2017-07-12
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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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ASayFD170712, PSayFD1705
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Pending review
Pending revision of OH transcription
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02:10:26 audio recording
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Australian Air Force
Description
An account of the resource
Frederick Say went to Tottenham County High School and when he left school he went to study agriculture. He joined the RAF and was posted to RAF Tangmere and worked in the Operations Room as a clerk and was promoted to Leading Aircraftsman Special Duties. From here he was posted to Headquarters 10 Group. He was recommended for aircrew and after initial training in Babbacombe was posted to Canada for training in navigation, gunnery and bomb aiming. On his return to the UK he was posted to 196 Squadron where he and his crew commenced bombing operations, completing 29 and a half operations. After completing his heavy conversion training he was posted in June 1944 to 514 Lancaster Squadron as a bomb aimer and took part in the bombing operations in support of D-Day. Before leaving the RAF he worked in the Motor Transport section at RAF Watnall.
Contributor
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Julie Williams
Spatial Coverage
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Canada
Great Britain
England--Devon
England--Nottinghamshire
Temporal Coverage
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1941
1943
1944-06
1945
12 OTU
1678 HCU
196 Squadron
466 Squadron
514 Squadron
aircrew
bomb aimer
ground personnel
Heavy Conversion Unit
lack of moral fibre
Lancaster
Operational Training Unit
RAF Chipping Warden
RAF Tangmere
Stirling
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/992/10623/PHammondBF1801.1.jpg
2e6cb57fd2c4da73cdef8d687d6529a7
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/992/10623/AHammondBF180904.2.mp3
39855cccc9bd2e67d395dfc623e76a0e
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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Hammond, Bert
Bertram Hammond
B F Hammond
Description
An account of the resource
Two oral history interviews with Bert Hammond. He flew operations as an air gunner with 514 Squadron.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2018-09-04
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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Hammond, BF
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
DK: I’ll just check this is working. So, this is David Kavanagh for the International Bomber Command Centre interviewing Bert Hammond at his home on the 4th of September 2018. So, if I just put that there.
BH: Yeah.
DK: It works better if you just talk normally. If I’m looking down I’m just making sure it’s working.
BH: Yeah.
DK: But what, what I’ll just start off asking you was what, what were you doing just before the war? Can you remember what you were doing?
BH: Yeah. First of all I was a grocer’s assistant and then I decided to get some further education.
DK: Right.
BH: And luckily for me there was just a bit of luck. I was in ATC, 233 Squadron. Whatever you called it. And I went to the Technical College to see if I could get anything and unbeknown to me the teacher I saw was also an officer in the ATC Squadron which I didn’t know.
DK: Oh right.
BH: He also was in charge for the football team for the squad which I played for. So, he, he helped me a lot to get some further education and there was a period of time which I greatly, you know appreciated.
DK: So —
BH: That was up until I went and volunteered.
DK: So the fact you were in the ATC was flying something you were interested in then? And the RAF?
BH: Yeah, we got the occasional trip, you know.
DK: Yeah.
BH: We, we got one nearby squadron. Bostons. We got, I got a trip in one of those one Sunday.
DK: Yeah. Well what were you flying in? Can you remember?
BH: Sorry?
DK: What were you flying in?
BH: Then?
DK: Yeah.
BH: Bostons.
DK: Right.
BH: The American aircraft.
DK: Right. Oh, right.
BH: And I’ve, there’s only about three crew. Bomb aimer, navigator, pilot and a wireless operator/air gunner because they, they were probably flying in, was it 2 Group?
DK: Right. Yes. Yeah.
BH: They were Bomber Command but late aircraft.
DK: Yeah. So you flew in a Boston as part of the ATC then.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Ah.
BH: And we also, I forget the name of the aircraft, we went one night. We flew over the Broads, The Norfolk Broads.
DK: Right.
BH: In a [pause] I forget what they called it now. Twin engine. You could get about eight people in. It was. But that was that was also helpful you know to get you accustomed to flying.
DK: So was that the first time you flew then?
BH: Yeah, in the Boston.
DK: In the Boston.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Oh, right. So, how did you feel as you were taking off in it? Was it quite exciting?
BH: I was so unprepared. I didn’t, I didn’t know what to expect. But it’s, the best part was that they had left as you got in to the back because it was the wireless op in those and the air gunner was in the middle of the aircraft you see.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And they left all the detachment out so I can see all the ground underneath my feet [laughs] but it was, no it was a great experience.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Because you, before you go in to the RAF you’ve got a little idea what flying is about. It may be sparse but it was —
DK: So whereabouts, going a bit further whereabouts were you actually born then? Were you a Londoner?
BH: No, I was born in Norwich.
DK: Right.
BH: Brought up in Norwich.
DK: So, in Norwich itself then did you see much about the beginning of the war?
BH: Oh, yes.
DK: What did you see then? Can you —
BH: We got, we got bombed. I mean, but the incident which I never saw, but obviously there was no television in those days. There was a paper and also the wireless where the stray aircraft came over and machine gunned the girls coming out of Colman’s Mustard Factory.
DK: Oh dear.
BH: I mean, I’m not quite sure of the numbers but it was either seventeen or nineteen they killed, and I thought to myself then but they’re not munitions, they’re not war people. They’re [pause] and then of course they got further night raids. And I had a girlfriend at the time. You know, young we were [laughs] and her, they bombed Norwich, and I was, of course this is the early part of the war and she was, her cousin was seventeen and got killed.
DK: Oh, really.
BH: When they pulled her out she was black. Blast.
DK: She didn’t work at the Colman’s factory then. She was —
BH: No. No. Separate.
DK: Separate incident. Oh dear. Yeah.
BH: But that’s the sort of thing that got me thinking about, I mean.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I mean, at the time I thought I mean a girl of seventeen you know they’re in the bloom of their life aren’t they?
DK: Yeah.
BH: But that really, that really struck me. Those two occasions. That’s all. That’s why I volunteered for aircrew. As simple as that.
DK: And what year was it you volunteered for aircrew then?
BH: ’43. Early ’43. I had to go in. I had to go in to have my tonsils and adenoids out so I got delayed actually, you know.
DK: Right.
BH: Through the RAF you know.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: Went before what they called an Attestation Board at Cardington in Bedfordshire.
DK: Right.
BH: And then of course you have your medical, and seven doctors I believe there were.
DK: So, it was quite thorough then was it?
BH: Oh yeah.
DK: So as you joined what were you hoping to do in the RAF? Were you hoping to be a pilot? Or —
BH: I think we all were.
DK: You all were. Yeah. Yeah.
BH: I mean to be honest I mean I could send Morse because I mean I was taught it in the ATC.
DK: Right.
BH: Quite capable. I could send better than I could receive. I think that’s natural if you’re not proficient at it shall we say.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: And I didn’t want to be a wireless op. So I was straight AG.
DK: Yeah.
BH: A — it was a shorter course.
DK: Yeah.
BH: You were a sergeant at least.
DK: So was that one of the reasons you became an air gunner then because the training was a shorter period?
BH: Yeah, it was one of the reasons. Yeah.
DK: So, so what did the training as an air gunner actually involve then?
BH: Well, I was called up to what they called ACRC, that’s in London.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I reported to Lord’s Cricket Ground of all places. We got all our inoculations, vaccinations, kitted out, and then we went on to Bridlington.
DK: Right.
BH: And in Bridlington was what they called initial. ITW, I think they called it anyway. And you were taught certain things. Marching and all that sort of things. And one of the, one of the things I remember of course I couldn’t swim and they marched us down, you know. They said, ‘You’re going down to the harbour,’ you know, ‘For dinghy drill.’ Of course we went down at night and thought oh that’s not far to drop. We went back the next morning the tide had gone out [laughs] It was about a fifteen or twenty foot drop. I mean, they lined you up. You might as well jump because they’d have pushed you anyway. You’ve got Mae Wests on.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And then you had to get in a fighter dinghy. A fighter one, you know.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: And then get out of that and get in a bomber dinghy and come back.
DK: So, you didn’t —
BH: I did alright.
DK: You did alright. You never realised how deep it was until the next day though.
BH: But I was, I wasn’t shall we say afraid because I think when you are with other people, most of these were you know were joined up lads like myself.
DK: So, how old were you at this point?
BH: Eighteen.
DK: Eighteen. Yeah.
BH: When you join up like that you think to yourself, ‘Well, I’ve got to go with the flow. I can’t show myself up.’ And I think you get accustomed to that kind of relationship don’t you?
DK: Yeah.
BH: Especially as you get older and more in with the RAF. It’s a comeraderieship of being with other people isn’t it?
DK: Yeah. So what, what was your next part of the training then?
BH: Well, then I went to, I can’t remember how long we I’ve got a record.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: Of all my service history there. Went then to Bridgnorth. This was called, I think it was advanced ITW. Initial Training Wing, you know.
DK: Yeah.
BH: We did, I don’t know how long we were there but we [pause] it was quite a, quite a big camp. I think it’s still going today. I’m not sure mind you, but it’s going on for long after the war anyway but we then of course you got a lot of sport.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And of course, and I was very lucky there of course. My mother wrote to me and said, “You’ve got an aunt in Bridgenorth.” So of course the aunt wrote to me and said, “Oh, come for Sunday lunch.” Beautiful home cooking [laughs] We went to church in the morning and then we went to Sunday lunch. Oh, it was lovely. Yeah. I went several Sundays. They were, he was a big business man in Bridgenorth. He’d got a big store or something. I don’t know. But they were very very kind to me.
DK: So the food at your aunts was better than what the RAF did for you then.
BH: Well, yes. You miss your mum’s cooking don’t you? [laughs] Yes.
DK: So what, what sort of training were you doing at Bridgnorth? Did this involve weapons training?
BH: No.
DK: No.
BH: No. No. We didn’t get that training until I then moved to Morpeth.
DK: Right.
BH: Near Newcastle.
DK: Yeah.
BH: That’s what they called, that was the Air, Air Gunner’s School.
DK: Right.
BH: We had, we had rifles. That was all at Bridgnorth.
DK: Right.
BH: But that was all, you know. We did a bit of firing with rifles in the, in there but —
DK: So was Bridgenorth mostly kind of square bashing and —
BH: Yeah. And as I remember more or less teaming you up to go to the Air Gunner’s School, you know.
DK: Right.
BH: But then, because we went to the Air Gunner’s School, we were flying in Ansons, with film and drogues, you know. Which was the targets.
DK: Yeah.
BH: That was —
DK: Did, did you start your weapons training on the ground or or was it straight in to the air?
BH: We, we, you did a certain amount, you know with as I said with rifles.
DK: Right.
BH: You’d go down the range and fire and that. But the thing which sort of got me interested there more than anything was the fact is that they gave you also, I mean I couldn’t swim.
DK: Right.
BH: So they used to take me to [pause] with some others not just me to Newcastle Baths. So, so we got out of the camp that way [laughs] But I mean I could swim if I’d got a Mae West on.
DK: Yeah.
BH: As soon as they took it off I panicked like hell.
DK: Did you ever master learning to swim then?
BH: No, I never got around to it but the, the best part of there was that this, this is the kind of course in my RAF career this. Whether it’s my soft face or attitude I don’t know. There’s three air gunner’s courses going through at the same time there.
DK: Right.
BH: I don’t know how many is on a course. I can’t remember. Quite a number and yet there was some big AOC who was coming to visit the camp, out of all those people eight people were going to form a guard. I was one of them [laughs] So, we had to do guard. Had to do rifle drill. You know, present arms and all that. He never came so we never — [laughs]
DK: You can’t remember who it was supposed to have been who came.
BH: No. I can’t remember. No.
DK: No. No. So the actual, so they’ve got you in an Anson then and you’ve taken off. What, what happens while you’re all in the Anson?
BH: Well, you get, you either get primary [pause] I’ve got my logbook, it’ll say in there. It’s a bit battered about now but —
DK: Let’s have a look.
BH: I’ll go and get it.
DK: Ok.
BH: You’ll have to excuse me.
DK: Yeah. No worries.
[pause]
BH: I’m a bit slow, you see.
[recording paused]
BH: Things [pause] There’s all sorts of things in here. Number 4 AGS, Morpeth.
DK: Oh, ok.
BH: I’ll tell you what. This. Mostly air firing.
DK: Right.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Ok if I have a look?
BH: Go on. You have a —
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: There’s certain things.
DK: Ok.
BH: Other pieces I’ve kept in there.
DK: So I’ll just say this for the recording here.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So, this is your air gunner’s flying logbook.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So, we’ve got —
BH: It tells you at the front the results.
DK: Yeah. I see it’s got the —
BH: Right at the front I think.
DK: Right. Oh, I see it’s got the, so two hundred yards range.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Cine film. Rounds. So theory average and then air firing above average.
BH: Yeah.
DK: You’re a bit of a shot then.
BH: Well, I think it says —
DK: “Will make an excellent air gunner.” There you go.
BH: That’s it. That’s it. It’s, yeah because I’ll tell you what. I’ve always, I’ve always had difficulty with my English. I can tell you but I can’t put it into words very well.
DK: Find the right words. Yeah. Yeah.
BH: Now, as I say I went to school on mathematics. I mean I watch “Countdown.” I can do, well I do about eight percent of them in my head. I’m good at that.
DK: Yeah.
BH: But my English is poor.
DK: Poor. Yeah. So you went to Number 4 Air Gunner’s School.
BH: Yes.
DK: And then, so this is October, November 1943 so you’re flying on Ansons.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So were these the Ansons that had the gun turrets?
BH: Yeah.
DK: In them.
BH: Yeah.
DK: And then you took it in turns to follow them.
BH: You see, it was about four of us gunners went up at a time and we took turns you see and they registered who you were.
DK: Yeah.
BH: The pilot flew and there was a big bay there. I remember that’s a beautiful bay. Golden sands there was. Of course, it was cold but because we didn’t have flying gear then.
DK: Oh right.
BH: I mean we weren’t issued with it, you know until we went to OTU.
DK: Right. So it was a bit cold up there then was it?
BH: Yeah. It was.
DK: So four of you have gone up and there’s presumably with you is the pilot.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Is there any other crew there? Or —
BH: Instructor.
DK: Instructor. So the four of you take it in turns to —
BH: Yeah. And he would tell you what to do. Go in, because you would climb into the turret because it was inside you see.
DK: And can you remember what sort of machine guns they had?
BH: Yeah. 303.
DK: Right.
BH: Browning 303. They were all, they were pretty standard I think.
DK: Yeah. So, a lot of the, I’m just reading from the logbook here. So there’s beam tracer. Air to ground as well.
BH: Yeah. Yeah.
DK: And a lot of cine gun as well.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So, did you fire on drogues as well?
BH: Yeah.
DK: And that —
BH: That’s, yeah that’s on the live ammunition and of course they had a cine gun, because that’s what you were assessed on because they’d got a copy of it.
DK: Right.
BH: They could, they could assess it all.
DK: Yeah. So you’ve passed this then and then you’ve gone to 26 OTU.
BH: Yeah.
DK: At Wing.
BH: Wing.
DK: So, what kind of aircraft were you flying?
BH: Wellington.
DK: Wellingtons. What did you think of the Wellington?
BH: Well, we went to, of course we went to Wing. Then we went to the satellite. Little Horwood. The trouble with OTU is, as I found it anyway was the fact is that the aircraft was being flown night and day.
DK: Right.
BH: And the one episode I remember is that we’d gone on a night trip and it was a pitch black night. Well, of course it was winter time and this is a brand new aircraft which is unusual. And as we took off we’d just get airborne and one of the engines cut dead. Now, as I understand in theory that wasn’t supposed to be kept airborne, especially from take-off.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And I heard a voice calling, ‘Mayday. Mayday. Mayday.’ I thought someone’s in trouble. Of course, I was in the turret down the end.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And I thought to myself I could see the drem lighting of the aircraft that were you know around the airfield, and I thought well that’s not very, that’s pretty close. I suddenly realised it was us that was in trouble [laughs] But the skipper somehow with the bomb aimer they, I don’t know how he did it, because as I understand it especially I mean you could fly on one engine but take-off you were at your lower speed.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: But he got it around and he daren’t put the wheels down or the flaps. He put, he put it down on its belly. Then we scrambled out.
DK: So, you were still in the turret then when it hit the ground.
BH: Yeah, I could, yeah but I moved it around, opened the door.
DK: Right.
BH: So when it landed I could just —
DK: Get straight out.
BH: Jump out the back. Yeah.
DK: So, had, had you actually met your future crew at this point?
BH: Oh yes. I was with the crew then.
DK: Right.
BH: They, it was rather peculiar because I would think most people could tell you were just left to your own devices to crew up. I mean, I was walking down the road and this pilot approached me. He said, ‘Are you crewed up yet?’ You see. I didn’t even know him. So I said, ‘No.’ He said, ‘Would you like to be my gunner?’ So I said, ‘Well, yes.’ I felt honoured to be honest about it, you know. And then we got, I was obviously the youngest.
DK: Right.
BH: The wireless op, Jim was the oldest. He was —
DK: Just going back to your pilot. Can you remember your pilot’s name?
BH: Oh yes. Michael John Warner.
DK: Michael John Warner.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Right. Ok.
BH: The wireless op as I said he was, he was, he was getting on. He was thirty something. And he, you know, said after we because he said to me you know he said, ‘If we don’t like this pilot you know we can change.’ So I said, ‘Oh, can we?’ Because I mean he’d been in the air, he was a, he’d been in a while I think. He was a flight sergeant then.
DK: Oh.
BH: Anyway, I said, ‘Oh, can we?’ He said, ‘Yeah.’ He said, anyway, after the crash he came up to me because he’d become my dad sort of thing. He said, ‘He’ll do.’ Because, you know, he came when we were stationed on the squadron which was at Waterbeach. That weren’t too far from Norwich, you see. Get on the train direct into Norwich you see. So we often went. He promised to look after me to my mum.
DK: So your pilot then, Sergeant Warner.
BH: Yeah.
DK: After that accident in the Wellington do you think you sort of gained confidence with him?
BH: We, well we all, we all in, because Wing that that was a wartime aerodrome, you know. Scattered billets all over the place and we were all in one billet.
DK: Yeah.
BH: You soon get to know one another when you’re together. But we all gelled together you know. We all got on very well. Then of course later on you’re joined by the other gunner.
DK: Right.
BH: And the flight engineer.
DK: Can you, can you recall their names?
BH: Yes.
DK: What were their names?
BH: Well, I’ve got it —
DK: Are they all in here? Ok.
BH: I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I think this might be of interest in the conversation. I should have brought it through then. I’m afraid that my —
[recording paused]
BH: I only had it the other day, showing somebody.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I must have put it somewhere I can’t remember. Yeah. The pilot was, well yes Michael John Warner.
DK: Yeah.
BH: The bomb aimer was Cyril Holmes. I’ll leave the flight engineer ‘til last for a reason. The wireless op was Jimmy Foyle. The rear gunner was Don because we changed over. I’ll tell you about that. Don Shepherd.
DK: Right.
BH: I’m the only survivor now. That I know of. While I remember on this because we all had to have a second job in case of emergencies.
DK: Right.
BH: And nobody could send Morse or receive Morse to any kind of standard. Only me. So the skipper said, ‘Look Bert, you’re no good down the bottom if anything happens to the wireless op,’ you know. ‘So will you swap with the mid-under? You’re a lot nearer.’ You see. So we swapped over —
DK: Right.
BH: But that was when we were at —
DK: On the squadron.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And the flight engineer we had one and we ran into a bit of trouble over Gelsenkirchen and he, he didn’t make it sort of thing back.
DK: Ok.
BH: We come back with practically no airworthy instruments and we had to land at an emergency drome down near Ipswich [pause] Damn it. I —
DK: We can come back to that.
BH: Yeah.
DK: But —
BH: But we had one. I’ve forgot his full name now. Then we had a second one. It was Tommy Buchanan.
DK: Right.
BH: He finished. He did the rest of the tour. He did about another —
DK: Yeah.
BH: Twenty five ops.
DK: Right.
BH: With us. So that’s the one I remember more than anything.
DK: Yeah. Yeah. I’ve just noticed in your, your logbook here you talked about that crash while you were training in the Wellington.
BH: Yeah.
DK: And it’s, it’s got it down here. Just for the recording here it’s, it’s got a date.
BH: Yeah.
DK: I think this must have been it. The 19th of March 1944. And it’s in Wellington 244.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Sergeant Warner and it’s for, you’ve put in brackets there, “Crashed on take-off.”
BH: Yeah, that’s it.
DK: So, that would have been it, would it?
BH: Yeah. Yeah.
DK: So, it’s recorded as fifteen minutes flying time. See this.
BH: I was sat in the back there like [laughs] just didn’t realise until suddenly there was this drem lighting this close.
DK: So just as I say just for the recording then.
BH: Yeah.
DK: As I say that was the 19th of March 1944.
BH: Yeah.
DK: That was a Wellington. And was that at Wing?
BH: Yeah.
DK: That you crashed.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So that’s all 26 OTU.
BH: Yeah.
DK: And then, so looking at the logbook here you’ve done twenty six hours forty minutes day flying, and twenty seven hours fifty five night flying.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So then during the time at the OTU you didn’t do any operational sorties at all did you?
BH: Oh, well you’d hardly call it that. We were doing, I forget what they called them now. We went sort of somewhere near the Belgian coast, I think.
DK: Oh, was this a diversionary raid?
BH: Yeah.
DK: Right.
BH: But you know we, it was all taken over on the short trip when that was back sort of thing. I think it was mainly to do with the radar perhaps or something. I don’t know.
DK: I think that’s on the logbook here that you’ve got diversionary raid.
BH: Yeah.
DK: On the 15th of March 1944. Wellington 242.
BH: Yeah.
DK: I suspect that’s it there then.
BH: Yeah. That’s what it was.
DK: So, no actual bombing raids.
BH: No.
DK: While you were on the OTU. So, and then after that I’ve got you as going to 1678 Heavy Conversion Unit.
BH: Yeah, that was at Waterbeach.
DK: Waterbeach.
BH: Yeah.
DK: And there you’re, by this time you were the mid-upper gunner then.
BH: Yes. Yes. Mid-upper.
DK: So at Wing was Wellingtons.
BH: Yeah.
DK: And then Waterbeach.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Lancasters.
BH: Conversion Unit, yeah.
DK: Yeah, and you were converting to the Lancaster.
BH: Yeah. That’s the Mark 2.
DK: Ah. Right. So, it was the Mark 2.
BH: Yeah.
DK: With the Hercules engine.
BH: That’s what I was trying to find. I don’t know where I’ve got it. I had it the other day.
DK: It’s not in here is it?
BH: No.
DK: Is there a photo of it?
BH: No. It’s, it’s a paperback. It’s, it’s, it was the actual aircraft we did seventeen ops in was in, there used to be a magazine called “Flight.”
DK: Oh right. Ok.
BH: It was in there and we managed to get and then it’s come out in a book and I don’t know what I’ve done with it now.
DK: Oh, that’s a shame. Perhaps we can find it a bit later.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So it’s at 1678 Heavy Conversion Unit then.
BH: Yeah.
DK: That, that’s when you’ve met your first flight engineer presumably.
BH: That’s right, yes.
DK: Yeah. And the second gunner.
BH: No. He came he came, he came to us in —
DK: At the OTU.
BH: OTU. The end part of the OTU.
DK: Right. The end part. So, you’re now mid-upper gunner.
BH: Yeah.
DK: What did you think of the, comparing the two mid-upper gunner to the rear gunner was?
BH: It was [laughs] to be honest I didn’t think much of the mid-upper really because you saw too much. You were wide open you see.
DK: Yeah.
BH: You see, at the back you see where you’ve been. At, up there you could see all the way around.
DK: All the way around.
BH: No. I mean you adjusted yourself to the requirements. Skipper’s the skipper. Of course, then he was made an officer.
DK: I see. He is now Pilot Officer.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Warner, isn’t he?
BH: Yeah. Made him the pilot.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And of course the point before I forget when we were moved to, to Waterbeach, because he was an officer he couldn’t come in the sergeant’s mess. So we billeted ourselves voluntary in, because it was a peacetime built camp into barrack room so he could come over and be with us you see.
DK: Yeah. Do you think that put you as a crew to a bit of a disadvantage where the pilot’s an officer and you’re not? Did you think that affected you? How you worked together?
BH: Not me personally because I had all the rest of the crew around me, but he was on his own.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Nobody else was an officer in the crew, you see.
DK: Do you think that’s not necessarily a good idea then? Or —
BH: Well, it —
DK: Did it affect people?
BH: I mean obviously he was a very quiet person, you know. He was not one, I didn’t think to make quick relationships you know.
DK: Yeah.
BH: He was sort of laid back, and I used to feel to myself you know you’d gone into a strange world where before we went to the sergeant’s mess all together and now you’re going on your own. Me, I got all the, all the rest of the crew around me. I was alright. Yeah.
DK: So you’re on the Lancasters Mark 2s with the Hercules engines.
BH: Yeah.
DK: What did you think of those as a, as an aircraft to fly on?
BH: Oh wonderful. The thing I make about them they were so quiet. You know the, the only trouble was when we got on to the squadron they were about eighteen thousand feet maximum.
DK: Right.
BH: So you got the Lancs above you, the Mark 1s and 3s you know, missing the bombs.
DK: So, so the Lancaster Mark 2 couldn’t fly as high as the —
BH: No, about eighteen thousand was the maximum.
DK: Right.
BH: Around about that.
DK: Well, do you know if they were any faster? Or —
BH: Near the ground.
DK: Near the ground. Right.
BH: Yeah.
DK: But they, you don’t think they were as noisy inside.
BH: No.
DK: As the other ones.
BH: No. The Mark 3 we went on they were American Packard Rolls Royces. God they were noisy, you know. God. I mean they were, they were built under licence.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Because I think the fact is that the Americans turned out the Mustang. I mean the Rolls Royce they put in them made them it a long range fighter for their bombers.
DK: Right.
BH: You see they put a Rolls Royce in. It was a different aircraft then. They could do the distance.
DK: I’m just reading from your logbook here for the recording.
BH: Yeah.
DK: It says here you were on at, at Waterbeach you were on the Lancaster 2s.
BH: Yeah.
DK: This had all been training. Air to air bombing training.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Whatever. So you were on Lancaster. I’ll just read this out 619, 622, 617, 787, 624, 617 again.
BH: Yeah.
DK: 619, 787.
BH: Yeah.
DK: 624, 617. So, that’s from through from May ’44, well, all of May ’44.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So you were on a number of different Lancaster 2s then.
BH: Yeah.
DK: On various training at Waterbeach. So that carries on to May ’44. Lancaster 2 again. LL 620. Well, 620 three times. And then I notice here 30th of May 1944 you’ve done an operation to Boulogne.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So would that have been your first operation then?
BH: I believe so, yeah.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Yeah. Yeah.
DK: So, I’m just —
BH: The wing commander came with us. You know, the station, well the squadron commander.
DK: I’m just, I’m just jumping ahead of myself there. I’ll read this again. So, on the 30th of May ’44 you’ve left 1678 Heavy Conversion Unit.
BH: Yeah.
DK: And gone to 514 Squadron.
BH: Yeah.
DK: They were both based at Waterbeach then.
BH: Yes.
DK: Oh right. I’m with you. So, 30th of May ’44 fighter affiliation Lancaster LL 620. Then you’ve taken LL 620 on the first operation to Boulogne.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So, 30th of May ’44. Your first operation to Boulogne. What was that like? Because the first time over enemy territory.
BH: How I felt? [pause] Of course the first thing you know you’re going on ops is that the Battle Order goes up in the mess. Both messes. Officers and sergeants. And if your skipper’s name is on it you’re on that night.
DK: Right.
BH: And when that, from that start to the finish you, you get a bit of a grip in your tummy and you go out and you do your DI on your turret. Make sure everything is all right. You get a little idea where you’re going, the distance by what’s in the tanks, you know. If they’re quite full you know you’re on a seven to nine hour trip at least. So, it’s a bit of apprehension.
DK: Yeah.
BH: You’re, I mean I’ll be honest with you if anybody says they weren’t frightened I’m sorry I’d call them a liar. But you’re so controlled. You have to be. Once you get in the aircraft it’s different. It goes.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Because you’ve got a job to do.
DK: And, and what exactly was your role? Your job as an air gunner. You’re, you’re there and as you say you’ve got this panoramic view all around you.
BH: Yeah.
DK: What was your job?
BH: The job of both of us don’t forget that.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Is, the fact is we are the eyes of the aircraft. We’re looking for fighters. We’re looking for other Lancasters because you fly, you fly in a stream you see. And your main job if you see anything is quickly report it, you know. I mean we talk between the gunners.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I see something, you see and I say, ‘I’ll keep an eye on that,’ you know, if you, what, because that could be a decoy you see. But I mean you, we were lucky. We got not too much trouble with fighters, you know.
DK: No.
BH: We saw them in time so we, we didn’t have many problems like that, but we got one or two holes from ack ack.
DK: So you, you can’t recall you were ever attacked by fighters.
BH: No. No.
DK: Yeah.
BH: We, we sussed them out you know. We, and by that, I mean by that stage we had an aircraft tracking device. Radar which the wireless operator operated so we could tell if any fighters were in the vicinities and we veered away from them.
DK: Right. Ok.
BH: Yeah. But that has to be, in those days it was Gee radar for navigation and then of course when we went on the Mark 3 they had the old what did you call it?
DK: H2S.
BH: Yeah, H2S. That’s right.
DK: Yeah. Yeah. So, I notice here your first operation then 30th of May 1944 to Boulogne that you’ve got your pilot, Pilot Officer Warner.
BH: Yeah.
DK: It also says you’ve got Wing Commander Wyatt DFC on board.
BH: That’s the, he was the squadron commander.
DK: Right. So you’re very first op you had the squadron commander on board.
BH: Yeah. Yeah.
DK: Did that make you feel a bit nervy?
BH: Well, it’s, you know, he sort of, see the skipper always went on one trip before you.
DK: Right. Ok.
BH: He went. What did they call it? Sit in the second dickie sort of thing to get experience. So he’d already done one.
DK: So, Warner’s done one operation already.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Yeah.
BH: So, anyway went out and of course the wingco is sort of saying, you know to us, ‘Right gunners. Keep your eyes open.’ And all that, you see and Mick was saying nothing [laughs]
DK: So Wyatt was there really to keep, to see how you were performing. Was that the idea then?
BH: I think also to see what reaction he got from us.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Also to see and keep in touch with the situation with flying you know, on ops. I don’t know whether he was, had to do anything like that. I mean the flight commanders did.
DK: Yeah.
BH: They had to do, you know so many.
DK: So, so looking at your first operations then through May 1944 most of them seem to be the pre D-Day.
BH: Yes. Yes.
DK: Landing operations.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So they were sort of in to France mostly.
BH: That’s right. Yeah.
DK: Yeah. So, there’s a couple into France and then you’ve got one here. 12th of June 1944 Lancaster 2 again. 826. Lancaster 2, Serial 826 and its to Gelsenkirchen.
BH: Yes. The one, yeah where we had to land.
DK: It says here you landed at Woodbridge. So —
BH: That’s the name of the place. Yeah
DK: Yeah. So —
BH: That’s an emergency ‘drome.
DK: Right.
BH: There was, there was three of them about the country. There was one up in York. I think it’s called Coleby. Something like that.
DK: And Manston’s the other one isn’t it? Yeah. Yeah.
BH: Manston in Kent. Yeah.
DK: So what exactly happened on the Gelsenkirchen raid then?
BH: Well, we caught up with a bit of trouble you know with anti-aircraft fire.
DK: Right.
BH: And we lost the, lost the, you know, the instruments and the point was the flight engineer was, how shall I put it? Skipper lost complete confidence in him.
DK: Really.
BH: I know it’s a fright but he, anyway he went back and he said he needs retraining or something you see, you know. I think he spared him. He panicked. But it’s one thing you don’t do in the air, panic.
DK: Yeah. Had the aircraft been badly hit then? Or —
BH: No. Not too bad. It caught, it caught the sort of the front of the aircraft and I don’t know what happened to be honest about it.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And when you go over there you get waves and you go up and down with the, with the anti-aircraft fire because over, over certain cities it’s, it’s immense.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I mean in France its reasonable, you know.
DK: So, you’ve then made an emergency landing at Woodbridge.
BH: Yeah. Yeah.
DK: Because the aircraft was damaged.
BH: Well, there was no instruments.
DK: Right. Ok.
BH: Well, I say no instruments he’d got no flying speed. That had gone. So he didn’t know what speed he was landing at. He could land it, you know. He’d got full control of the undercarriage and the flaps. There was no problem there. It was just, you know as I said trying to. I forget. I know he’d got no airspeed indicator.
DK: Right.
BH: So what happened I don’t know really because you were just glad to get back.
DK: Yeah. So you landed at Woodbridge.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Because that’s the emergency landing ground.
BH: Yeah.
DK: With the really big runway.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Yeah. And it was after that point you got the new flight engineer then.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Because he reported back and he said he thought he needed retraining. Left it at that. And the other chap we got, the new one, Tommy Buchanan was a different person altogether.
DK: And if I could just take you back a couple of days.
BH: Yeah.
DK: I know, I know the Gelsenkirchen raid was on the 12th of June.
BH: Yeah.
DK: You actually flew on D-Day itself.
BH: Yeah.
DK: The 6th of June. Do you remember much about the D-Day operation?
BH: That that was D-Day night.
DK: Right.
BH: We were, we were on to go on D-Day and it was cancelled. Nobody was allowed out the camp. The door was guards because of secrecy, you see. And we knew. We knew what was on. Somebody yelled, ‘You’re not going anywhere. Nobody.’ There was double guards on the gates and that. Of course, they had to be. Thousands of lives at risk weren’t they?
DK: So, you were aware that was D-Day.
BH: Oh yeah. We knew.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: And what you’ve got there is D-Day night.
DK: Right.
BH: We went.
DK: So, D-Day night it was operations to, for the recording I’ll spell this out L I S I E U X.
BH: I’ve no idea what that was.
DK: No. That’s, that’s that being France it’s, it mentions Channel guns.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So you were hitting the gun emplacements.
BH: Yes. Yeah.
DK: And do you remember could you see much of the invasion itself as you flew over there?
BH: No, no. I mean all we saw was, all I saw was because you don’t look for that. You’re looking all the time for your own protection you see. But I did see a parachute. So somebody baled out.
DK: Right.
BH: I don’t know who it was but if one parachute means it could have been a fighter and that means it could have been a German fighter. But one parachute. You never can tell can you? Someone may have jumped.
DK: So on D-Day you were on a Lancaster again, 816. Just for the recording here the Gelsenkirchen emergency landing at Woodbridge was Lancaster 2, Mark 2, 826.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So let’s go through here then. It’s France again isn’t it because you went to Le Havre.
BH: Yeah.
DK: On the 14th of June.
[telephone ringing]
BH: Oh, excuse me.
DK: Yeah. No worries.
[recording paused]
DK: So, so through June 1944 I notice there’s, there’s one in green here. So, was one a daylight operation?
BH: Daylight. Yeah. Daylight.
DK: And that was to —
BH: That was peculiar. To go down you could see all these lakes, you know. Because the skipper was a good, he was a good [pause] He, he was trained in America so what’s the word? You’ll have to excuse me. Words fail me sometimes. Formation flying. He was good at that.
DK: Oh right. Ok.
BH: Yeah. He was good at that.
DK: So this operation it’s 21st of June 1944 to Abbeville.
BH: Yeah.
DK: And that was in daylight.
BH: Yes.
DK: And you’ve gone over in formation then.
BH: Well, straggling.
DK: Straggling.
BH: It wasn’t as good as the Americans by no way there [laughs]
DK: So you would have seen Lancasters.
BH: All around. Yes. Yes.
DK: All around you. Yeah. And how did that make you feel? Was it quite an impressive sight then, or —
BH: Yeah, because I mean you could go at night and never see them. You could feel them. You could feel the turbulence if you were near one but it’s, it’s the sight because you see we saw one aircraft was hit by anti-aircraft and he turned around and come back. We’d got fighter escort you see but they were way above and all of a sudden we saw these Spitfires come down and go alongside him. One kept alongside him. The others kept above him and behind. He got his, one engine was on fire, so whether, you know he turned around. He went against the bomber stream
DK: Yeah.
BH: On the outside, you know. So I don’t know whether he made it all.
DK: Yeah.
BH: But I mean I should think so.
DK: But the Spitfires escorted him back did they?
BH: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
DK: So you did a number of daylight operations then.
BH: Yeah. Yeah.
DK: And then mostly over France again and then I noticed, so 20th of July you’re back over Germany. Homberg.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So, what, what was it like flying back over German cities again?
BH: Different. It’s, it’s a different feeling altogether because you’re in the pitch dark again, you know and you search, search, search. In daylight you could see everything. I mean you could get [pause] and not only that you have to make sure you’ve changed your ammunition because in daylight you’ve got daylight tracer bullets.
DK: Yeah.
BH: They’re bright obviously and at nights they’re not quite so bright. If you’ve got daylight in they frighten to death. Be like the Blackpool Illuminations. You have to check you know every time you go. You have to check your aircraft to see that they’ve changed it because you know in the hustle and bustle of a bomber station at the time it’s all go sort of thing.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Day in and day out.
DK: So just talking about a normal operation then how, you’ve got the call in the morning and your pilot’s name’s up on the list.
BH: Yeah.
DK: What happened then? Was there briefings and —
BH: Well, as I said we go, it’s in the morning you, you, I mean we went to briefing probably, I don’t know what time but you know at that time of year you didn’t take off probably ‘til about 9 o’clock, 8 o’clock. Something like that. I can’t remember now. It’ll tell you in there anyway.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: And of course you go to briefing and you know you go in and of coruse there’s a guard outside the doors and you look at, you look at where the ribbon ends [laughs] That tells you. Full stop. Yeah. I mean, you got a little idea as I said the distance.
DK: So briefings then. Would they have all of the crews in there?
BH: Oh yes.
DK: And all of the —
BH: But the pilots and the bomb aimers, was it? And the navigators. Oh, the navigators. They had a special briefing before us.
DK: Right.
BH: Then we got a general briefing. I mean they get all the gen for navigating for that but we went in a general, you know. Just sit and you’re informed of your targets which you could see anyway. You’re informed why you’re going. You’re informed of all the, various people get up and tell you, you know. ‘Be careful around here. Don’t stray off course because there’s a battery of anti-aircraft there.’ And all that. ‘Fighters. Keep your eyes open because you know when they’re about,’ sort of thing. We knew that but there was general information and then of course you know you stood up when the CO come in and you sat down again. But it was about, and then there was the weather.
DK: Yeah.
BH: You get to talk about the weather and you sit there and listen to try and digest everything for your own benefit, you know.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So after the briefing then.
BH: We had a meal.
DK: You had a meal.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Yeah. Do you remember what you used to eat?
BH: Yes. Bacon and egg. I remember one trip. That was a daylight. I forget where it was now. It kept getting cancelled. We had about ten meals that day [laughs] Never felt so good. We ran out of eggs. Yeah. Mind you, I must say this. I have heard some lads where they’ve been on the camp and it’s not been, it’s been alright. We were exceptionally looked after well there. Exceptionally.
DK: And this was at Waterbeach.
BH: We had, we had fruit on the table. Mind you there was orchards all around.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Around that area. We had milk. Jugs of milk.
DK: Yeah.
BH: We were well looked after. Yes.
DK: So you’ve had the briefing and then you’ve had the meal.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Do you then go out to the aircraft or are you —
BH: Well, you decide then, you know. It depends.
DK: Right.
BH: Sometimes you have a little time. Or you, you then get in the aircraft or you get in the transport and they take you. And of course you sit in the aircraft waiting. Well, it depends sometimes. And then of course you take your turn to take off. Now, this is where the Mark 2 easy. Mark 3 we seemed to struggle nearly all over bloody Cambridgeshire to get up any heights.
DK: Really?
BH: But then there was always people standing by the, you know the observing what do you call it.
DK: By the runway.
BH: Yeah. You know. Waving you off.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Yeah. So that would be off the ground staff then were waving you off then were they?
BH: Well, there was WAAFs. There’s all sorts. They had boyfriends and things like that, you know and then people in general used to.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Yeah. Yeah.
DK: Did that, did that fill you with a bit of confidence that there was people waving you off?
BH: Well, I thought if they’d take the trouble.
DK: Yeah.
BH: You know. To do that, I mean. It was, there was no skin off their nose to be there. They came by voluntary terms.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Many had various reasons but it was nice to see it. Let’s put it that way. Yeah.
DK: So you found the Mark 2 Lancaster with a, presumably with a full bomb load of fuel.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Easier to get in the air than —
BH: Yes. Definitely.
DK: Than the Mark 1s and 3s.
BH: And then, of course the higher you got the Mark 3 took over.
DK: Right.
BH: You see as you got higher in the Mark 2 it got more difficult to get up there but of course you could get, you got up to about twenty two, twenty three thousand in the Mark 3. Twenty one easy.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Depend what bomb load you’d got, you know.
DK: Yeah. So just going through your logbook again then.
BH: Yeah.
DK: You did 23rd of July ‘44 to Kiel.
BH: Yeah.
DK: The Naval yards.
BH: That’s right. Yeah.
DK: Do you remember much about that?
BH: It was one, one of the first. We’d been twice actually but one of the most, I don’t know why but when we got there the ground was lit up as though it was daylight. I’d never known that before. I mean before you got over a target you got the target indicator. The master bomber would tell you what to bomb. You know, the colour of the TI. You know, the target indicator.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And again. Over there you got target indicators and just I could you know, I mean I could see streets below all lit up like daylight. I think, you know afterwards, after the First World War I think there was trouble there.
DK: Yeah.
BH: During the war. They thought they could perhaps you know arrange the same thing again. That’s why we went but it’s uncanny because you know it suddenly become more sort of like a daylight over the target which is, of course you’ve all the ack ack flying about.
DK: Yeah. So was it the lights of the city were on then?
BH: No. No.
DK: Or just —
BH: The Pathfinders had illuminated them.
DK: Oh, I see. Oh right. I see. So that was the Pathfinder flares.
BH: Yeah. Yeah.
DK: Target indicators.
BH: Well, there was target flares on the ground.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I mean it was just like daylight.
DK: Right.
BH: I only can assume, you know that was the reason that they went to that target and what they did to the target. I’ve got no other ideas.
DK: And then I notice 25th of July, and 28th of July you went to Stuttgart twice.
BH: Yeah. That, I had in there the first one I think, I think it’s in there. This is it. Found this at the, they found this for me. This is my pal in Norwich.
DK: Ah.
BH: He, they’ve got to find some more for me.
DK: Yeah.
BH: But I couldn’t give enough information. He was at ATC with me.
DK: Oh, right. Ok.
BH: He was at Mildenhall and he went on that first op.
DK: To Stuttgart.
BH: That was his first op and he never came back.
DK: Can I have a —?
BH: Yeah. That was my pal Richard.
DK: So, for the recording then this is Richard Duffield.
BH: Yeah.
DK: D U F F I E L D. Richard Duffield and this is the IBCC Losses Database.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So Richard Arthur Duffield, nineteen. Died, yeah 25th of July 1944.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So that was the operation to Stuttgart.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So you were both on the same operation.
BH: Yeah. I didn’t know that obviously.
DK: Right.
BH: I mean I didn’t, you see at Mildenhall there was two squadrons so I wasn’t sure which one it was.
DK: Yeah.
BH: But they kindly found this out for me.
DK: So Richard Duffield then was on Lancaster LN 477.
BH: Yeah.
DK: And he —
BH: Buried at, buried in France.
DK: So he was with 622 Squadron at Mildenhall.
BH: Yeah.
DK: And reason for loss? Crashed in the outskirts of Nancy, France.
BH: Yeah. We went to ATC. Well, he used to call for me to go to ATC on his bike.
DK: So did you only find this out quite recently then?
BH: I knew he was at Mildenhall. That’s all I knew.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I knew. I knew, I knew George had got, because my mother wrote and told me. It’s very helpful when you’re on a squadron when one of your best pals has gone missing and I found out. I phoned up on the telephone because there was an Association, you know but they didn’t, he said there was two aircraft from Mildenhall missed that night and they said there was one survivor. Now, I think there was one survivor there if you count up. There was six graves.
DK: Right.
BH: There was seven in a crew. So I presumed it was from Richard’s aircraft.
DK: Yeah.
BH: As there was a survivor.
DK: Oh yes. Yeah. It was, fellow servicemen. One, two, three, four, five. Yeah. There’s five there so one of them would have survived wouldn’t they?
BH: Yeah. I assumed that anyway. I said they’ve got some others which they can’t find. It’s difficult. Perhaps I can, I you know, they can have another go for me.
DK: Yeah.
BH: There’s a George Chapman. He’s a navigator. George. They all, I ought to have told them this, they were all from Norwich. That would have helped wouldn’t it? But I can’t find, he was, he went missing before me.
DK: And he was in Bomber Command as well was we?
BH: Yes. Yes.
DK: Yeah. If you give me the names I’ll see if I can find them as well.
BH: Well, there’s one name. I mean George was not too far. He wasn’t a particular friend. I just knew him.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Richard was a friend.
DK: Yeah.
BH: But I used to come with him. I used to come home on leave and this is the sad part, and I used to have to pass George’s house and his mother used to be, ‘Hello Bert. How are you?’ And she used to look at me and I used to feel guilty about being alive.
DK: Yeah.
BH: It’s a horrible feeling, but she was a lovely lady you know.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I suppose she looked at me and you know, ‘My son has gone.’ Yeah.
DK: If you give me his name later on I’ll see if I can find him.
BH: Well, the only other information I’ve got as I said he’s from, I’ve got his, I’ve got the road he lived on. Of course I can’t remember the number.
DK: Yeah.
BH: But there’s another one too. I’m not quite sure the name. Later I thought he was a policeman’s son further down the road. I didn’t know him well but I knew of him. He was Jimmy [unclear] I think that’s his name. And I’m pretty sure he was awarded the Conspicuous Gallantry Medal.
DK: Oh right.
BH: He was a wireless operator and he lived at Wall Road. Somewhere up Wall Road in Norwich.
DK: Right. And he was killed as well then.
BH: Oh yes. This was about, I would think about 1942.
DK: Right. I’ll make a note of the names later and —
BH: That name I’m not too sure. It began with a W, I know.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Wombon or something like that.
DK: Right. Ok. Well, if he’s got the CGM.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Well, there’s [unclear]
BH: I’m sure he did afterwards I remember. Yeah.
DK: Yeah. Ok. Well, I’ll try and look into that for you.
BH: Thank you very much. They’re just people. Comrades in arms sort of thing that, you know you, there was —
DK: What was the name of the Spitfire pilot from Norwich?
BH: Jim.
DK: Sorry.
BH: Tim Colman.
DK: Tim Colman.
BH: Yeah.
DK: And he survived the war did he?
BH: No.
DK: Oh, right. Ok.
BH: No. And there was only one other person. You know, I’ve mentioned these names —
DK: Yeah.
BH: Who survived the war with me. There’s six of us, I believe. Another bomb aimer named George Jarmy and he, he survived it, but he had trouble with his marriage and he drove straight at a tree and killed himself.
DK: Oh dear.
BH: His mind you see. The mind’s a funny thing, isn’t it? Yeah.
DK: Definitely.
BH: I’m the only survivor. So I think there was six.
DK: So, six of you from Norwich.
BH: Yeah. Out of that parish.
DK: From that parish in Norwich.
BH: Well, it’s a big parish.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: In fact, Sprowston now is a town so you know how big it was.
DK: Yeah. Ok. So I’ll see if I can find anything on those two.
BH: Thank you very much. I don’t think there’s any more information I can give you.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I thought the address would be helpful.
DK: Yeah. I’ll see what I can do because they should be in the IBCC’s Losses Database there somewhere.
BH: Yeah.
DK: It’s just a question of getting enough information to find it.
BH: That’s right. To find them. Yeah.
DK: Yeah. You’ve obviously got one here.
BH: I’ve got that thank you very much.
DK: No problem.
BH: I’ve said he’s, that’s the most important one.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Because as I said Richard was, he was a nice lad too. Quiet. Not like me [laughs]
DK: So your, your operations have gone into the end of 1944 and it looks like you’re, you’ve now converted to the Lancaster 3.
BH: Yeah.
DK: With the Packard Merlin engines.
BH: Yes.
DK: So you’ve done three daylight operations then in September ’44.
BH: Yeah.
DK: In fact, it looks like you’ve gone to Le Havre twice on one day. So, Eindhoven.
BH: Yeah.
DK: 3rd of September. 6th of September, Le Havre and then the 6th of September, again Le Havre. So, would you have gone twice in one day?
BH: No. I’ve got the dates wrong there or something.
[pause]
BH: Have you got that squad? Oh, it’s —
DK: It’s my, my mistake. It’s the 3rd of September is Eindhoven.
BH: Yeah.
DK: The 5th of September Le Havre.
BH: Yeah. Yeah.
DK: And then the 6th of September Le Havre again.
BH: We went to Stettin. That was one. You got that?
DK: Stettin [pause] Oh, here we go. Yeah. That’s the 29th of August.
BH: Yeah. That was a fateful trip for me.
DK: Why was that?
BH: It’s a bit delicate this, I’ve got to be careful how I put this. I was sort of, if you put it taken ill the day before, and we were down to go on ops. I went, went sick. I had dysentery.
DK: Oh.
BH: And he gave me some tablets. He said, ‘See me at briefing. I’ll give you some tablets.’ Well, they were useless and I stuck. And I mean I said that I was going to, you know where you have to go about twenty odd times a day you know, and there was, I never eat much. And I mean to be honest I shouldn’t have gone on that trip.
DK: No.
BH: Because I was a liability to the crew and when you come back I stuck it for six hours and I said to the skipper we were coming back over the coast I said, ‘Can I go to the elsan at the back?’ And I just moved one muscle because I sat with my legs crossed.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I was in a [pause] I landed in the mess.
DK: Oh dear.
BH: And Jimmy, Jimmy my wireless operator, you know he came up and he put his arm round me and got me out my turret, ‘Never mind, Bert,’ he said, ‘You stuck to your post in more ways than one.’ [laughs] And I went, I went back and cleaned myself up. I, I mean the navigator said, ‘You should never have gone.’
DK: No.
BH: He said —
DK: So that was the 29th of August 1944.
BH: Yeah.
DK: You were in Lancaster Mark 3, 687.
BH: Nine hours. We cut the corners.
DK: I was just about to say it was nine hours not six. Nine hours to —
BH: Yeah.
DK: Operations to Stettin.
BH: Yeah. Well, six hours I stuck at my turret.
DK: Oh right. I’m with you. Right.
BH: And we cut the corners too.
DK: Right.
BH: Coming back, to get back.
DK: Get back. Right. So and it says here Stettin operation was the dock installations in support of the Russian offensive.
BH: That’s right. Yeah.
DK: So it’s in support of the Russians.
BH: Well, they requested it didn’t they?
DK: So you’re last operation then is as I say the 6th of September 1944.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Le Havre. So you did thirty altogether.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So, what, what was it, we talked about going off on the mission and then a bit about the missions themselves. What was it like when you came back and landed?
BH: Well, of course you get, it all depends. If it was a long trip you were, I mean I used to smoke then and those cigarettes were a Godsend. I mean, I mean I’ve often come back with my eyes bloodshot. Search. Search. Search. Search. And it’s pitch dark, you know. And when you get back of course you were all trooping all out together. Someone cracks a little joke or something. Some have a laugh. I mean, you were just whacked out after a long trip you know and you go for briefing and of course the first time we went they give you a pint of tea, and they have this little cask of rum. It’s naval rum, you know. Like treacle.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: And I, and that of course, of course Jimmy who knew these WAAFs and instead of putting one tot in I went to bed pickled and I hate rum. That spoiled a good cup of tea. But then, then of course you go for a meal.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And then you go to bed. Sometimes, I said, but this Mark 3 I laid there because there was still the drumming in your, and I mean our navigator what, you know although we didn’t do many ops on that he went deaf. He had a hearing aid later on because he was right beside the air, you know.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: But I mean the drumming in your ear, you know and you lay there and you think oh God. Eventually you go off and that’s it. Peace.
DK: So was it, as you were landing then is it a bit of a relief that you’re, you’re back again?
BH: Oh yes. It’s, it’s a funny, funny kind of war for the aircrew because one minute well to put it bluntly you’re trying to save your skin, and the next night you’re not on ops. You’re down town you know having a good booze up and chasing the girls sort of thing. You know what I mean? I’m being honest about it.
DK: Yeah. I was going to ask you what you did on your time off as it were, when you were? Did you go into town much?
BH: We went into Cambridge.
DK: In to Cambridge. Yeah.
BH: And we used to go in to I still remember the names of this [laughs] We used to, we found this pub in Lensfield Road. It’s called the Spread Eagle. And at that time she was an ex-lady what kept it, an ex-London actress. We found in the back room they had a piano because I played you see.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: The skipper played the guitar and of course once you got that, you know we were away because she, you know she used to say, I mean the skipper was I think he was twenty one over Stettin. So when we came back you know we had a party in there sort of thing.
DK: So your skipper spent his twenty first birthday —
BH: Over Stettin. Yeah.
DK: Over Stettin. Yeah.
BH: But I mean life in general, you know. In between its like, it’s like it’s one thing I said like this Jimmy [unclear] I once saw. I’d be sixteen or seventeen at the time. Something like that. He was running down, you know. I thought what is he running for? He was on leave. I was doing the same thing. Every second counted.
DK: Yeah.
BH: It didn’t matter. I mean, I mean I realise now why he was doing it, you know. He didn’t want to miss anything.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So, so September ’44 then what did you go off to do then because you’d finished your tour? You’d only done the one tour then.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So, I say only but you’ve done the one tour.
BH: Yeah.
DK: What did you do after that? Did you leave the squadron at that point?
BH: Yeah. They sent me, sent me up to, there’s nothing in there but they called it a rest camp way up in Scotland. Near a place called Nairn near Inverness. I was up there for a month until they decided what to do with me and I mean of course I come back and I got, I got some more leave. I got a telegram to, and a railway warrant to be posted to RAF Manby.
DK: Oh right.
BH: The one place I hated to go. I’d been taught at Manby, you know. Training Command. And coming off a squadron which was free and easy and then come to this very strict, you know. And of course what happened was there I finished up as, I mean at that time there was, it was a hell of a big camp.
DK: Right.
BH: There was three bomb aimer’s courses, three, all instructor’s courses, three air gunner’s instructor’s courses. I think it was one or two small arms instructor’s courses, because it was an Empire Air Armaments School.
DK: Right.
BH: So all we could do was get in to a kind of a wooden hut. We couldn’t get in the mess at all because it was so, you know cramped and then of course we were, we were once I’d sort of, they kept me there much to my disgust. But the, the thing I’d finished my service. I was there until I was demobbed. Then the air gunners, after about a year I think this is roughly the air gunners moved to Leconfield. The bomb aimers went somewhere else and the small arms, I don’t know what happened to them. We were left with nothing for a while and then all of a sudden we started to get these, it was suddenly become something else. Manby. Not the Empire Armament School. And we were getting officers in.
DK: Right.
BH: On a two year course. So we were, I mean it was only I think six of us. Four or six instructors including the flight lieutenant, you know, in charge of us.
DK: So, so were you actually instructing then?
BH: Yes.
DK: You were an instructor.
BH: Ground and air.
DK: Right.
BH: Anyway, we saw these, I mean it was flight lieutenants up to squadron leaders coming on these courses. Two year courses.
DK: Right.
BH: And I went in, well two of us went in to this gunnery officer in charge, you know. Our boss. I said, ‘Well, look, we’re instructing these — ’ I said, you know I was warrant officer by then.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I said, ‘We’re only warrant officers,’ I said, ‘How can we deal with a squadron leader?’ He said, ‘When you enter that room you are automatically a rank above them.’ ‘God,’ I said, ‘That’s a quick promotion.’ [laughs] But I mean they were fine, you know. I felt at ease.
DK: Yeah.
BH: With all the instructions we had.
DK: So as a warrant officer and a trainer.
BH: Yeah.
DK: You were telling the squadron leaders what to do.
BH: Well, they were, obviously a lot of them. We also got foreign. Polish pilots on the camp.
DK: Right.
BH: We had Belgians come. We had Norwegians and all sorts. But then we finished up with this, and that’s when I had left.
DK: So, so this is Number 1 Empire —
BH: Air Armaments School.
DK: Air Armaments School.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Number 1 Empire Air Armaments School based at RAF Manby.
BH: Yeah.
DK: And I notice you, you were back on Wellingtons again.
BH: That’s right.
DK: So all the training there —
BH: Yeah.
DK: Was, was Wellingtons.
BH: Yeah.
DK: It’s all Wellingtons, isn’t it?
BH: Yeah.
DK: So you were there right through to —
BH: Got demobbed.
DK: Warrant officer. And you were demobbed in 1945 presumably. Oh, 1946, sorry.
BH: Seven.
DK: 1947.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Quite right. Yeah. So you were at Manby and this other place through to —
BH: About two years wasn’t it?
DK: About two years, yeah. And you were just training then for two years.
BH: Yeah. I mean, I said at one time I never had any courses and I mean I’m an active person and I got myself attached to the photographic section, you know for something to do. And I’m very interested in that.
DK: Yeah.
BH: So yeah there was a corporal there. He said, ‘There should be a sergeant here,’ he said, ‘And another airman,’ he said. I’m short staffed.’ I said, ‘Well, I’ll, I’ll come and help, you know. I’m glad to do something,’ you know. Oh, by the way, time I was there we had some, time I was in the photographic section they had some Italian prisoners of war.
DK: Right.
BH: And I had to go out on a, to take some photographs of a bombing sight at Saltfleetby, and I, God talk about the drive of your life. I mean Lincolnshire roads are not that clever up there. They’re windy. Anyway, they come back and it must have been three weeks later they all left. They weren’t much good anyway. The next thing I knew the station warrant officer called me in. He says, ‘I’ve got a job for you, Bert.’ I said, ‘Well, I’m in the photographic section.’ He said, ‘No. This is extra.’ So, I said, ‘Oh yeah?’ You know. But he’s a, he’s a nice chap you know. He’s one of us sort of thing.
DK: Yeah.
BH: He was a time serving man. He said, ‘We’ve got eighteen German prisoners of war coming,’ he said. So I said, ‘Yeah.’ And he said, ‘And you’re in charge of them.’ So I had them ‘til, oh I don’t know how long for. I had to go down in the morning. Count them in. They could have walked out.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: Because they were only in part of the camp.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: And go down at night and check them all in. Any mail I took back to the station headquarters and they checked it all I suppose.
DK: And this was at Manby still, was it?
BH: Yeah.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: And then one day the station warrant officer he says, ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘The German POWs are going.’ He said, ‘You’re taking them down to some camp near Sandy in Bedfordshire.’ Somewhere near. I can’t remember now. So I said, ‘How am I going to— ’ he said, ‘Oh, there’s a carriage booked at Louth. It’ll come in. There’s a whole carriage booked for you.’ So he said, ‘Here’s a rifle and —’ [laughs] And five, five bullets. I said, ‘Well, there’s eighteen of them. I shoot five and then — ’ [laughs] And also there, this is what I was saying when I started this talk.
DK: Yeah.
BH: The next thing we had, turned up I forgot to tell you this there was a Wellington crash and it caught a woman’s, I think it was a sort of a cottage.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And it killed her.
DK: Oh dear.
BH: I’d been flying and the tannoy went. ‘Warrant Officer Hammond report to the station warrant officer.’ So he said, ‘I’ve got a job for you, Bert,’ he says You’re on guard all night.’ He said, ‘You’ve got an airman there.’ he says, he says, ‘He’s bringing the truck around. You’ve got everything you want. Full the lot. Off you go.’ God, and it was cold and all.
DK: So you had to guard the crash site.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Of course the woman had been killed you see.
DK: Yeah. Yeah. Were the crew killed as well or were they —
BH: No. They, they survived. There was, they were bomb aimers on.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: That’s when the bomb aimers were there. Joe got it again you see. Yeah. It was all good fun. I played football for my station so, you know I loved football.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And cricket.
DK: These, these Germans you were escorting then. Was this the first time you met Germans face to face?
BH: Yes.
DK: How did that make you feel as you had been obviously —
BH: I was.
DK: Flying above Germany just a few months before.
BH: I was a bit uncomfortable but because by then we began to know what we’d actually done you know, because I was a bit disgusted we were bombing houses.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Because we weren’t told that and I was a bit apprehensive because I thought well they’ll know more than anybody. And I was, I said they used to line up and they used to and I always felt there was one German there I didn’t know whether he was taking the mickey of me or not, you know. So I had one mate there. He was a prisoner of war. He was on that Long March.
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: I think it was six hundred mile. He was on that so, and he was a prisoner of war. I said, ‘Would you mind coming with me, Cyril?’ I said, and I told him the reason why. He said, so anyway he stood. You know. I was counting them in and shouting out numbers and all that and he stood behind, well behind me and all of a sudden he let out in German and this fellow he was a warrant officer, a German well the equivalent anyway.
DK: Yeah.
BH: He swung to attention and there were no more trouble. But I felt he was taking the mickey out of me you know.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I didn’t know German but —
DK: No, but your, your colleague then who shouted out this German order —
BH: Did.
DK: Was, someone they were —
BH: That’s it. I took them back. I felt, I did feel sorry for them because it was a boiling hot day and I got to the railway station. I was met, you know. There was a truck to take you up to sign and you get your lunch there as well and as I was coming back I said, ‘What about the — ’ you know, because they were still my responsibility. But he said, ‘Oh, they’ll walk up.’ and of course I don’t know whether you know but the German prisoners of war kit bags are very, very big.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And they were, they were on the side of the road whacked out, walking up. Nobody escorting them.
DK: Yeah.
BH: They all thought they were going home. They were going on the farms. Yeah. God, it was a boiling hot day. They were carrying these, you know. I mean I did have some photographs of the prisoners of war. They made a walk in village out of scrap.
DK: Right.
BH: All run by water. Beautifully made.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Yeah. I took photographs of it. Yeah.
DK: So, did you, did you stay in touch with your crew after the war then?
BH: Yes.
DK: All of them.
BH: Yeah. We’ve got, I’ve got some photographs here. One of my cleaners, well she’s my friend now. One of my little angels [laughs] There’s [pause] there’s my, that’s my demob book. Look at that. There’s, oh sorry [pause] there’s that’s the other gunner.
DK: Yeah.
BH: That’s the skipper. He went on to fly. It became his career and he flew second dickie to start with for BOAC, was it?
DK: Oh right. Yeah.
BH: BOAC.
DK: BOAC.
BH: Long trips.
DK: Long trips. BOAC. Yeah.
BH: That’s, that’s my dad [laughs] wireless op, Jim. And that’s, that’s me. Long shorts.
DK: So what year would that have been taken then?
BH: Oh, I don’t know. That’s —
DK: There’s a —
BH: There’s my wife there with all the rest. But I had this book and I I found my, this Lanc 2 which we did all these seventeen ops in and it’s, I don’t know what I’ve done with it. I had it the other day. I forget things. And anyway he, he I bought him one because we met up before we met this. I knew where he lived and I made contact but that was with his brother.
DK: Right.
BH: It was his home address and he put me in contact with where he was living. And then we met in Stamford.
DK: Right.
BH: At the George at Stamford. And, and I took my book of this and he said, ‘Oh, my goodness me. Look at what’s in here, Bert.’ He said. ‘One of my trips,’ I forget where it was now. In America, South America. He said, ‘We ran into a thunderstorm,’ he said. He said, ‘I was second dickie,’ and he put it down he said, ‘And we were miles from the ruddy runway but we got away with it.’
DK: Right.
BH: But he said the aircraft was in there. Funny that isn’t it?
DK: Yeah.
BH: Got the aircraft we flew on during the war, and he got the aircraft he was flying in civvy which he crashed in.
DK: Which he crashed.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So how long was he with BOAC for then? Was he [unclear]
BH: Well, then he got married. His wife was here. She was an air hostess.
DK: Right.
BH: She could be up there. In those days they could speak several languages couldn’t they?
DK: Yeah.
BH: So he went on short haul. You know. Just Europe. He made his career out of it, you know.
DK: That’s Warner, isn’t it?
BH: Warner.
DK: Warner. Yeah.
BH: Yeah. But —
DK: So, so is this, probably really finish there but one sort of final question for you all these years later how do you look back on your time in Bomber Command and Bomber Command itself?
BH: Well, a funny thing it was [pause] I mean the next door neighbour’s daughter in law she was interested so I went to go around there for a meal and I had, I had to give her little lectures because she wanted to know. And after the war I didn’t want to know anything. My wife said, ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I’m going to see, “The Dam Busters.” Are you coming?’ So, I said, ‘No. I don’t want to.’ I wasn’t interested. I suppose as you get older you look back.
DK: Yeah.
BH: You don’t look forward too much, and I get more memories now and they keep coming back now. Something triggers something off in your mind, you know. You forget a lot but then you remember a lot, you know.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And I will, I will say this and I’ve said if I had to live again and the same situation come which I explained I’d do the same thing again. I would.
DK: Because you mentioned earlier about finding out what was happening in the bombing.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Do you see that differently now or is it something that you feel —
BH: I’ve come to terms with it.
DK: Right.
BH: Because people have said. I mean. Well they were, they’ve said, well, I should, well I should know this. They were bombing Norwich and they were bombing houses.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And I said I was disappointed because we were told one thing yet we were doing another. That’s what I didn’t like, you know. We were misled. We thought we were bombing military targets. The only military targets we bombed was during the days.
DK: Yeah.
BH: You know during D-Day time.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Over Germany we just let them go didn’t we? I mean the famous saying, these, you know because when you’re going on the bombing run you’re straight and level until you’ve taken your flash you know. And of course the members of the crew were, ‘Let the ruddy things go.’ [laughs] It was a bit hot over these German cities.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Oh yeah.
DK: So after, after you dropped the bombs then you were flying straight and level for the photo to be taken.
BH: The flash. Yeah.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Then you —
DK: Photoflash. Yeah.
BH: Then we dived away. But we got caught in the master searchlight once, you know.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And of course as soon as that comes on that’s radar controlled. About twenty other small ones come on and the skipper put the nose down and the bomb aimer threw out Windows by the buckets full. I gradually watched the beams disappear.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Normally once you’re caught, you’re caught.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Yeah.
DK: So how, how was that? Was that quite a frightening experience then in the searchlights?
BH: I was never frightened once I was, you know once I [pause] I was more frightened in the build up to it. Do you know what I mean?
DK: Yeah. Yeah.
BH: Nerves. Nerves in your tummy. But once you’re in the aircraft I always felt safe. It’s a funny thing isn’t it?
DK: Yeah.
BH: You felt, though you weren’t really but I always felt there was something wrapped around me, you know.
DK: Yeah.
BH: Yeah. I was lucky. I mean you get lots of better stories than mine. I was just an ordinary sort of person caught up in the war sort of thing, you know.
DK: Yeah. Ok then. That’s gone on for a while there but thanks for that.
BH: Well, I hope I’ve been some use.
DK: That’s been absolutely marvellous.
BH: The only other thing —
DK: Hang on. Yeah.
BH: The other thing I would like to say is during the war it was a great leveller of personnel. You could be all walks of life. I met some wonderful people. I played football with pros, and against them which I enjoyed every minute of that though I was bashed about [laughs ] because I wasn’t very weighty then. But I met at Manby, I met two people, well one person which actually changed part of my life. One of them was I can’t remember his name. I tried to find it. He was a French horn player.
DK: Right.
BH: Sergeant, oh God, isn’t it silly? I’ve got a photograph of all the instructors. He, he was nice to talk to because he, he was on a retainer for all these big orchestras and in fact he was on telly after the war. He —
DK: Right.
BH: He was then played with the orchestras and solos and that and then he was BBC judge on the, you know, “Young Musician of the Year.”
DK: Oh right.
BH: He was judge on the brass section.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And the other one what changed was a fellow called Ronnie Price. I went in to the mess one afternoon at four o’clock and of course my father taught me to play the piano but he wanted, he played all sort of semi classics, you know. He was, he taught music. And I heard this music that I thought was the radiogram, you know.
DK: Yeah.
BH: And I got past the ante-room with the two doors like that. And, oh somebody is sitting at that piano because it was a good piano, you know. I went in and I thought, ‘He is playing that.’ Took a chair up, sat beside him and he stopped playing, you know. He said, ‘Oh, do you play?’ I said, ‘Oh, not like that.’ I said, ‘That’s beautiful.’ We became sort of friends, named Ronnie Price. I don’t know. You may be a bit too [pause] He was a pianist on, “Name That Tune.”
DK: Oh right. Yeah.
BH: Remember that do you?
DK: Yeah.
BH: And he was one of the top pianists in this country and abroad.
DK: Right.
BH: He had a wonderful career. He taught me no end about playing dance music. He opened doors which I never would have gone through.
DK: And that was that chance meeting in Manby.
BH: Chance meeting. He was the sound I was looking for. Like Glen Miller was looking for a sound.
DK: So was it, is that what you went into after the war then? Was it the music or —
BH: No. I played. No, I went, I went home to my own parents. My grandparents had a laundry. I didn’t know what I was going to do and I thought to myself well, my father said, ‘What are you going to do?’ My grandparents had, they’d wound it down a bit, ‘Why not take it up and build it up again?’ So I started on that but then the wife lost her father and her mother was totally invalid sort of thing in a way. Stone deaf and needed someone to be with her, you know. She was getting on. So I came up to Lincolnshire and I got a job at Fenland Laundries and then I sort of progressed through the ranks. Became a manager and that’s how I — but I played. Over the years I played part time. Not here. Never here.
DK: Right.
BH: I packed it in then. I played in holiday camps, in little bands.
DK: Right.
BH: Night clubs. I mean it’s all down to Ronnie Price. He taught me.
DK: Yeah.
BH: All sorts of [pause] well, it’s training you could not buy.
DK: Yeah. Yeah. All little techniques.
BH: Oh yeah.
DK: Yeah.
BH: I’ve got, I’ve got no end of his. My cleaner friend she’s here this morning. Took me to the doctors. She, I’ve tried to get some CDs because he’s no longer with us now, Ronnie.
DK: Right. Yeah.
BH: And she’s found them.
DK: Oh wow.
BH: I’ve got about four now. So, I’ve got all his music to listen to.
DK: Wonderful.
BH: Yeah.
DK: Ok then. Well, I’ll stop the recording there.
BH: Yeah.
DK: That’s been absolutely marvellous but thanks so much for your time.
BH: Well, I hope that’s been some use.
DK: Oh, you’ve been a lot of use. It’s been absolutely marvellous.
BH: Well, it’s, it’s nice of you to call on me.
DK: I’m more than happy to be here. Thanks.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Interview with Bert Hammond. One
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
2018-09-04
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
The nature or genre of the resource
Sound
Identifier
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AHammondBF180904, PHammondBF1801
Conforms To
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Pending review
Pending revision of OH transcription
Format
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01:25:50 audio recording
Language
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eng
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Description
An account of the resource
Bert Hammond was born and brought up in Norwich. He was a grocer’s assistant and an air cadet at the start of the war. He recalls bombing attacks on Norwich and a lone aircraft machine gunning female workers leaving the Coleman’s Factory. In 1943, at the age of 18, he volunteered for the RAF as an air gunner. His initial training took place at RAF Bridlington and RAF Bridgnorth. He was posted to No. 4 Air Gunnery School, RAF Morpeth, in October 1943. His training included the use of cine-guns and target drones, and flying took place in Avro Ansons.
Posted to 26 Operational Training Unit at RAF Wing, he was formed into a crew to fly Wellingtons as a rear gunner. On one training flight, an engine failed on take-off and the pilot managed to complete a circuit before carrying out a belly landing. As Bert had learned morse code as an air cadet, he was tasked to take over as the wireless operator if necessary, therefore, moved to the mid-upper turret to be closer.
In 1944 he was posted to RAF Waterbeach in Cambridgeshire, initially with 1678 Heavy Conversion Unit to convert to Lancasters, and then to 514 Squadron as operational crew. His first operation was on the 30th of May to Boulogne. He describes a number of operations over France and Germany. On the 12th of June during an operation to Gelsenkirchen, they were hit by anti-aircraft fire putting their instruments out of action. They were diverted to RAF Woodbridge for an emergency landing.
Bert describes the differences in performance between the Mark II and Mark III Lancasters, and what happened during the day of operations. He completed his thirty operations in September 1944 and, after a period of leave, was posted to RAF Manby as an instructor with No. 1 Empire Air Armament School. He explains how he felt about the bombing of Germany, the loss of friends, and how the war was a great leveller of persons. He was demobilised in 1947.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Nick Cornwell-Smith
Julie Williams
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
France
Great Britain
Germany
Poland
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Suffolk
England--Tyne and Wear
France--Abbeville
France--Boulogne-sur-Mer
Germany--Homberg (Kassel)
Poland--Szczecin
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943
1944-03-15
1944-03-19
1944-05-30
1944-06-12
1944-06-21
1944-07-20
1944-07-25
1944-08-29
1944-09-06
1678 HCU
26 OTU
514 Squadron
air gunner
Air Gunnery School
aircrew
Anson
bombing
Boston
forced landing
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 2
Lancaster Mk 3
military service conditions
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
perception of bombing war
RAF Bridgnorth
RAF Manby
RAF Waterbeach
RAF Wing
RAF Woodbridge
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/770/9399/SDexterKI127249v10021.2.jpg
8f184a1aff889f4a6bf6e94ffd90509b
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Dexter, Keith Inger. Album
Description
An account of the resource
24 items. Contains newspaper articles and information about Keith and Shelia Dexter while at school. Includes a number of photographs of Keith Dexter's mother's home in Stradishall and of a memorial to men of F Division of the Metropolitan Police lost during 1939-45. Followed by documents from Squadron Leader A N Banks concerning the collision between a Halifax and a Mosquito at RAF Foulsham in a April 1944 with photographs as well as information on Foulsham and 192 Squadron. Finally photographs of Keith Dexter's medals, an escape map and compass and a photograph of a model train built by Keith Dexter with a certificate from the Model Engineering Exhibition 1933.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Dexter, KI
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-08-30
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
THE AIRFIELDS 115
Squadron flying its first Circus on May 16 and attaching Triequeville. A large number of enemy fighters rose to give battle, but the Mitchells all returned safely to Foulsham. Thereafter both squadrons flew Circuses and Ramrods when the weather permitted. By mid-August 180 Squadron had flown 17 operations. The long haul to the south was time- and nerve-consuming, and to be better placed for operations running up to D-Day both squadrons flew out, aircraft going singly for security reasons, to Dunsfold on August 18/19, having flown their first large scale 24-aircraft operation on August 12. The feeling in July had been that the Mitchell might be better in the Middle East. Indeed, 98 Squadron flew to Honiley in July for range trials, but the idea was abandoned.
Vacant Foulsham was taken over by 3 Group on September 1. On the same day No 514, the second Lancaster 1 squadron in the Group, formed here. Providing crews for Stirling-orientated 3 Group had caused 1678 Flight to form, and this moved to Foulsham on September 16 to be on hand to supply crews for 514 Squadron. It took them two months to reach operational status and, on November 3/4 1943, six Lancasters commenced operations, two going to Düsseldorf and four mining. Not for long did they operate out of Foulsham for, in a general shake up, both units moved to Waterbeach on November 23.
The need to base 3 Group Lancaster Finishing School at Feltwell meant it must lose its operational commitment. So, on November 25, No 192 Squadron left for Foulsham. This highly specialised squadron was flying Halifaxes, Mosquito IVs and Wellington Xs all specially fitted out with listening equipment to snoop on German radio and radar transmission. On December 7 100 Group took over Foulsham and snatched 192 Squadron in the process, the unit being enlarged on December 12 when 1473 Flight, which had been similarly employed, arrived from Little Snoring to become its ‘C’ Flight. Backing the squadron, the Special Duty Radar Development Unit arrived in mid-April 1944 and became the Bomber Support Development Unit on May 1. It stayed until December 23 1944, and used Mosquitoes. The Americans needed similar intelligence material and, from August 1944 to early 1945, a detachment of two-seater P-38s was stationed at Foulsham.
Once BSDU had left the station Halifax IIIs of 462 Squadron RAAF arrived from 4 Group on December 27 1944, trained in the use of special equipment, and commenced operations on March 13 1945.
No 192 Squadron played a vital part in the bomber offensive from 1943. Operating widely over occupied territory and Germany, its crews listened to enemy radio chatter and discovered frequencies of these and radar equipment. They snooped upon the airborne radar of night fighters, jammed VHF transmissions and afforded RAF control of German fighters. By summer 1944 they were operating by day and night, and the squadron was, on April 9 1945, the last to fly the Mosquitoes jammed enemy R/T.
Foulsham’s value was greatly extended when, in 1944, the main NE/SW runway was fitted with FIDO equipment to allow operations in misty weather.
The wart over, both squadrons disbanded, 192 on August 22 1945 and 462 on September 24, then the station passed to Care & Maintenance under 40 Group in 1945. The RAF soon vacated it, but the station was not sold off. In 1954-1955 the USAF based a special signals unit there.
Runways, ‘T’ Type hangars, the perimeter track and the water tower all remain among the farm land. Flying has not ceased, for often a crop-spraying Piper Pawnee can be seen about its business in the summer months.
An aerial view of Foulsham taken on January 31 1946 (DoE).
[photograph]
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
History of RAF Foulsham
Description
An account of the resource
Starts with description of operations with B-25 from RAF Foulsham. Succeeded by 514 Squadron Lancaster and 1678 training flight. Replaced by 192 Squadron of 100 Group flying Halifax, Mosquito and Wellington on radio countermeasure and other special operations. Bomber support development unit arrived in April 1944. FIDO added to airfield in 1944. Station place on care and maintenance 1945. At the bottom a photograph of the airfield taken January 1946.
Format
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One page printed document with b/w photograph
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Photograph
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
SDexterKI127249v10021
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Australian Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Norfolk
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944
1945
1946-01
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Steve Baldwin
100 Group
1678 HCU
192 Squadron
3 Group
462 Squadron
514 Squadron
B-25
FIDO
Halifax
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Mosquito
P-38
RAF Foulsham
training
Wellington