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Title
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Christian, Arnold Louis
A L Christian
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-06-26
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
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Christian, AL
Description
An account of the resource
93 items. The collection concerns Wing Commander <span>Arnold Louis</span> <span>Christian </span>(1906 - 1941, 29160 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, documents and photographs. He flew operation as a pilot with 105 Squadron and was killed 8 May 1941.<br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Steven Christian and catalogued by Barry Hunter.<br /><br />Additional information on <span>Arnold Louis</span> <span>Christian</span> is available via the <a href="https://losses.internationalbcc.co.uk/loss/204958/">IBCC Losses Database.</a>
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Wing Commander Arnold Louis Christian, RAF, was posted missing as the result of air operations against enemy shipping in the area of Stavanger harbor, Norway, on Thursday 8th May 1941 and later, for government purposes, presumed killed in action as a result of those operations.
At the time of his death he left a widow, Catherine Allan Christian, less than one month past her 30th birthday, and three young children under the age of eight – Brian Arnold, Derek Allan & June Margaret.
As the Commanding Officer of No 105 Bomber Squadron he was responsible for some 20 Bristol Blenheim mark IV bomber aircraft each with 3 crew members, plus the associated ground crews. The squadron was part of No 2 Group, Bomber Command, the only major command in the British forces at that time capable of, and so instructed by Winston Churchill, to take the war directly to the enemy.
During the latter part of 1940 the squadron, which was based at RAF Swanton Morley, near East Dereham, Norfolk, was carrying out night bombing operations against enemy aerodromes in occupied Europe, and against other targets including Hamburg & Boulogne. In early 1941 No 2 Group was tasked to concentrate on attacking enemy shipping and coastal targets in Western Norway and the Heligoland Bight area of Germany & Holland.
As a result, the Commanding Officer of 105 Squadron had to rapidly retrain his crews to convert from medium level night bombing of land targets to low level daylight bombing of shipping – sometimes down as low as 50 feet above sea level. It was a wholly new discipline for the crews. The Blenheim aircraft were already obsolete and not satisfactory for the task but were all the nation and the air force had for the job. In early May 1941, 105 Squadron temporarily detached from its home base at Swanton Morley and relocated to RAF Lossiemouth near Elgin on the Moray Firth, Scotland, so that they could be closer to enemy targets in Norway.
At 05:10 on Thursday 8th May 1941, six Blenheim aircraft of 105 Squadron led by their CO lifted from Lossiemouth and turned east for the Norwegian coast at Stavanger. To the crews, that area was known as Beat 2 and their job was to attack any enemy shipping found there. Three aircraft at the northern end of the beat area returned to Lossiemouth having found no shipping. The remaining three aircraft, one being that of the CO, found a convoy of 20 ships, including six flak ships, at the southern end of the beat area and the engagement began. After the attack, the CO’s aircraft was seen to have been hit, with the port (left) engine ablaze, and descending toward the surface. Witnessed by a Norwegian fisherman, Herr Leidland, it crashed into the sea at the entrance to the Hardangerfjiord to the north of Stavanger. The same fisherman recovered a flying boot from one of the crew, Flight Sergeant Hancock, (it had his name in it), and handed it over at the end of the war. Nothing else was recovered from the crash area. The remaining two aircraft returned safely to Lossiemouth.
The CO of 105 Squadron was a regular RAF officer having joined the Royal Air Force as a pilot in 1930. He had flown aerobatics in some of the popular Hendon air displays of the 30’s, and in 1935 was sent to Atbara in the British Protectorate of Sudan for 9 months during the insurrection there.
In October 1939 he was the navigator on the maiden flight of the Handley Page Halifax heavy bomber from RAF Bicester, Oxfordshire, and carried out further trials with the aircraft.
In 1940 he was twice mentioned in dispatches to HM King George VI for gallant and distinguished action.
Bomber Command losses were disproportionately high with No 2 Group losses the highest within Bomber Command. Of all major British commands, Bomber Command lost the most men at some 55000+. Of these, 20000 including the Commanding Officer of 105 Squadron, Wing Commander Arnold Louis Christian, have no known resting place. His name, along with those others, is inscribed at the Royal Air Forces Memorial, near Runnymede.
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Title
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105 Squadron and Arnold Christian
Description
An account of the resource
A brief biography of Arnold and his time with 105 Squadron.
Spatial Coverage
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Norway--Stavanger
Germany--Hamburg
France--Boulogne-sur-Mer
Atlantic Ocean--Helgoland Bight
Great Britain
Scotland--Elgin
Norway--Hardanger
England--Runnymede
France
Sudan
North Africa
Germany
Norway
England--Surrey
Sudan--ʻAṭbarah
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Personal research
Format
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One typewritten sheet
Identifier
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SChristianAL29160v10070
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.
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IBCC Digital Archive
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Steve Baldwin
105 Squadron
2 Group
aircrew
Blenheim
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
crash
Halifax
killed in action
navigator
pilot
RAF Hendon
RAF Lossiemouth
RAF Swanton Morley
shot down
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Dublin Core
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Title
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Hayhurst, Jose Margaret
J M Hayhurst
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-07-25
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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Hayhurst, JM
Description
An account of the resource
108 items. The collection concerns Sergeant Jose Margaret Hayhurst (2073102 Royal Air Force) and contains decorations, uniform, documents and photographs. She served as a radar operator in the Women's Auxiliary Air Force.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Andrew Whitehouse and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
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Title
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German War Over
Description
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A newspaper with details of the end of the war with Germany.
Date
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1945-05-07
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--London
England--Manchester
England--Croydon
Switzerland
Germany--Wilhelmshaven
Portugal--Lisbon
England--Henley-on-Thames
Germany--Kiel
France--Dunkerque
Austria--Vienna
Tunisia
France--Paris
France
North Africa
Germany
Austria
Portugal
England--Oxfordshire
England--Lancashire
Coverage
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Civilian
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Format
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Five printed sheets
Identifier
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NHayhurstJM170725-020001, NHayhurstJM170725-020002, NHayhurstJM170725-020003, NHayhurstJM170725-020004, NHayhurstJM170725-020005
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Temporal Coverage
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1945-05-07
Bismarck
bombing
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
Roosevelt, Franklin Delano (1882-1945)
sport
Stalin, Joseph (1878-1953)
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1794/35819/BWilsonRCWilsonRCv1.2.pdf
46537616119db7e3fe539c2255ec6eb9
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Title
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Wilson, Reginald Charles
R C Wilson
Description
An account of the resource
166 items. The collection concerns Reginald Charles Wilson (b. 1923, 1389401 Royal Air Force) and contains his wartime log, photographs, documents and correspondence. He few operations as a navigator with 102 Squadron. He was shot down on 20 January 1944 and became a prisoner of war.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Janet Hughes and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-01-13
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. Some items have not been published in order to protect the privacy of third parties, to comply with intellectual property regulations, or have been assessed as medium or low priority according to the IBCC Digital Archive collection policy and will therefore be published at a later stage. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collection-policy.
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Wilson, RC
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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October 2001
[underlined] BOMBER COMMAND & NOTES OF SOME OF MY EXPERIENCES DURING 1941 – 1945 [/underlined]
[underlined] Churchill's Minute of 8 July 1940 about Bomber Command to Beaverbrook (Minister for Aircraft Production) [/underlined] – made [italics] after the fall of France and the retreat of the British Forces from Dunkirk, when Britain stood alone against the might of Germany under the control of Hitler. [/italics]
"But when I look round to see how we can win the war I see that there is only one sure path. We have no Continental army which can defeat the German military power. The blockade is broken and Hitler has Asia and probably Africa to draw from. Should he be repulsed here or not try invasion he will recoil eastward, and we have nothing to stop him. But there is one thing that will bring him back and bring him down, and that is an absolutely devasting, exterminating attack by very heavy bombers from this country upon the Nazi homeland. We must be able to overwhelm them by this means, without which I do not see a way through."
A sustained air bombardment of Germany was therefore a major instrument of military policy, all the more appealing to the Nation as a whole because of the Blitz – As Churchill himself said, the almost universal cry was "Give it to them back!" (Extract from Most Secret War – R.V. Jones)
With regard to the Blitz, I personally experienced before I joined Aircrew in August 1941, seventy-eight consecutive nights when the German Bombers flew up the Thames and bombed London (East London had extensive damage and suffered many thousands of civilian casualties).
One of the last of these raids, and also the worst, occurred on 29 December 1940 when 300 tons of bombs (mostly incendiary bombs) were dropped on the City and surrounding area. The whole area was a mass of flames. (There is a famous photograph of St. Paul's in sharp relief against a skyline of fire). I walked through the devastated area the next morning on my way to Unilever House (my place of work before I joined the RAFVR).
On 29 December 1943 [underlined] exactly three years later to the night [/underlined], I 'gave it to them back!' I flew as navigator, in a Halifax Bomber as one of a force of over 700 Bombers to Berlin. It was the fifth heaviest raid ever made against Berlin and over 2300 tons of incendiaries and bombs were dropped in about twenty minutes!
[underlined] When Britain stood alone [/underlined]
After Dunkirk in 1940 there was no hope of bringing the war [underlined] to Germany [/underlined] on land until the success of the Second Front in 1944 and the Invasion of Germany in 1945. For the first three and a half years only one force, [underlined] Bomber Command [/underlined] was able to do so from the Air, and keep the torch of freedom burning for Britain and occupied Europe.
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For the rest of the war Bomber Command was joined by the American Airforce who supported the air war with a substantial heavy bomber force operating in daytime from East Anglia.
[underlined] 1943 – The growth point for Bomber Command [/underlined]
By 1943 Bomber Command, now under the direction of Air Chief Marshall Arthur Harris, had grown into a powerful heavy bomber force. A famous biblical quotation used by Arthur Harris about Germany's earlier bombing of British cities, summed up the future for Germany's industrial heartland – "they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind".
Bomber Command was able to sustain some 700 to 1000 aircraft, which could deliver in excess of 2000 tons of bombs on a target in one bombing raid. It flew at night throughout the year at relatively high altitudes; and in all weathers. It also used the long winter nights to penetrate deep into Germany to reach their industrial cities. Flying at over 10000ft required crew to wear oxygen masks and at 20000ft., temperatures could be minus 40 degrees centigrade! The sole heating for the crews would be from movable flexible pipes from the engines, or for the air gunners, electrically heated suits. Only fog, snow and ice around their base airfields and perhaps a full moon, would hold the squadrons back from operational flying.
Bomber Command flew in a concentrated stream and bombed targets in a matter of 20 minutes or so. Techniques were developed to smother the ground-to-air radar defences by all aircraft dropping metalised strips ('window') en route and over the target. The mass of strips obliterated the German radar responses from the bombers, so that the ground defences were unable to direct nightfighters or ack-ack to their quarry. Ground control of the nightfighters was also broken by jamming their intercom frequencies. Bomber wireless operators would tune to the nightfighters' frequencies and transmit engine noise to drown out communication. Specially equipped squadrons flying in or near the bomber stream would carry out operations known as ABC (Airborne Cigar), which interfered with radar responses from nightfighters, causing confusion in ground control operations. These squadrons would also tune to the ground control frequencies and with the aid of German speaking specialists gave false directions to the German pilots. When the German defences resorted to broadcasting coded music over national broadcasting channels, to indicate to the nightfighters where the targets were, these were jammed by over-playing the broadcasts, very loudly, with previously recorded Hitler speeches!
The development of the Pathfinder Force and the introduction of more sophisticated radar aids, especially H2S, enabled Bomber Command to keep closely to prescribed routes and to locate targets more accurately. This was achieved by the Pathfinders dropping coloured sky or ground markers near turning points and directly on the target, the whole operation being directed by Master Bomber crews flying at the forefront of the main force. In addition, other radar techniques for guiding bombers and indicating the release point for bombs, known as Oboe and G – H, were very accurate methods for pinpointing targets, especially in areas like the Ruhr Valley. All these techniques helped to produce highly concentrated bombing results.
These successes however were not without heavy losses to Bomber Command * as the German ground control revised their procedures and the German nightfighter force expanded. The nightfighter force (especially squadrons equipped with twin
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engined aircraft) became more freelance and extremely skilled due to the re-equipment of their aircraft with cannon firepower and radar air interception and homing techniques.
Bomber Command took a major part in destroying much of German's industrial base. It also caused the German ground defence forces to divert, in 1943-45, a huge number of men (almost 900,000) and all types of artillery (56,500) from the Western and Eastern Fronts to defend the skies over German cities, especially Berlin and cities in the Ruhr Valley. Additionally 1,200,000 civilians were employed in civil defence and in repair work.
Bomber Command delayed the use of the V weapons in 1944 by many months, and saved thousands of lives and possible destruction of much of London, especially the eastern areas of Greater London.
It was responsible, along with the American Airforce, for destroying in 1944-45 much of the armament, transport, radar and communications infrastructure in occupied Europe and Germany. Additionally the German oil refining industry was destroyed. These successes eventually grounded the German Airforce, paralysed the German Army, and advanced their surrender.
[underlined] *Bomber Command suffered very heavy losses [/underlined]
From 1939 – 1945 Bomber Command suffered some 60% casualties; a number greater than any other British and Commonwealth Force during the Second World War (only exceeded by the German U-Boat Force who suffered some 70% casualties).
Out of a force of 125000 Aircrew:
* 56000 were killed (equivalent to almost one fifth of all the deaths sustained by the British and Commonwealth forces for World War 2, and equal to all the Officer deaths on the Western Front – Vimy Ridge, the Somme, Passchendaele, Ypres etc during World War 1).
* 9000 were injured or wounded.
* 11000 were POWs or were missing.
In the peak times of 1943 and 1944 less than 10 crews in a 100 crews would survive their first tour of 30 operations. The Halifax and Lancaster Bomber would have an average life of 40 operational hours – about 5 or 6 missions.
The worst month of the war for aircraft losses was January 1944 when 633 aircraft were lost out of 6278 sorties – just over 10%.
This was also the month I was shot down over Berlin on my tenth operation, when my Squadron (102) lost 7 out of 15 aircraft – a loss of 47% (a loss of aircraft in percentage terms greater than that suffered by 617 Squadron on the Dam Busters Raid). The following night my Squadron lost a further 4 aircraft out of 16 on a mission to Magdeburg, Germany. Shortly after these disastrous losses, the Squadron was withdrawn from operations over Germany until they were re-equipped with the improved aircraft, the Halifax MK 3.
The worst single operation of the war was in March 1944, when 94 aircraft were lost on the Nurnberg raid with 14 more aircraft crashing on return to UK. On this raid more aircrew in Bomber Command were killed, than were killed in Fighter Command for the whole of the Battle of Britain.
[page break]
4
[underlined] Battle of Berlin [/underlined]
There were 16 raids during the Battle of Berlin from the end of 1943 to early 1944. In this time some 500 aircraft were lost on the Berlin raids. Over 3500 aircrew were lost, of which some 80% were killed! More than 2000 of them lie buried in the British War Graves Cemetery in West Berlin – two of my crew are buried there, two others who have no known graves are remembered on the RAF War Memorial at Runnymede.
[underlined] Bomber Command was heavily criticised for the destruction of Dresden and Chemnitz in February 1945 [/underlined]
Dresden and Chemnitz were regarded as non-military targets. Dresden in particular was a cultural and arts centre since medieval times. They were also great fire risks because of their wooden architecture.
As the Russian Forces on the Eastern Front entered East Germany in 1945, Stalin requested to Allied Command that Leipzig, Chemnitz and Dresden be bombed [underlined] as these cities were strategic railheads for moving German troops to the Eastern Front. [/underlined]
At that time I was a POW at Stalag IVB (Muhlberg on Elbe) and I was being moved to Oflag VIIB (Eichstat, Bavaria) with four other POW's. The route took us through Chemnitz station and we spent the best part of a day waiting with our German guards on the station for a connection to go south to Bavaria. [underlined] During this time we witnessed several German Panzer troop trains en route for the Eastern Front pass through the station. [/underlined] The date was 2 February 1945 just 10 days before Chemnitz and Dresden were bombed. I understand since, that the information about the date of these troop movements was not known at the time; otherwise the Allied Command might have taken action earlier.
Nevertheless Stalin was right, they were strategic railheads, and we (POW's) were [underlined] in the unique position of being the only Allied witnesses to see it. [/underlined] (I have a reference to this event in my wartime log entered whilst I was still a POW in Oflag VIIB).
The bombing was shared by Bomber Command and the American Airforce. The towns were burnt out and the casualties were very high indeed.
Personally I refute the charge, having seen the Panzer troop trains passing through Chemnitz, that these were open cities, wilfully destroyed. The Allied Airforces carried out what they were ordered to do – to aid the Russian Forces in what was total war in those days.
These charges of wanton destruction were, after the war, levelled at Air Chief Marshall Arthur Harris (who was denied a Peerage), and Bomber Command by the post war Labour Government. The accusations have been made ever since by all and sundry. They choose to forget that some 60,000 British civilians were killed as a result of German Airforce bombing and use of V weapons, on London and other Cities.
As a result campaign medals were not awarded to Bomber Command.
Arthur Harris said "Every butcher, baker, and candlestick maker, within two hundred miles of the Front got a campaign medal, but not Bomber Command".
When one reflects on the contribution that Bomber Command (a front line force without doubt) made to the success of World War 2; and the casualties and the
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stress the aircrew (mostly in their early 20's) suffered in achieving it, it is a travesty of justice to level the accusation of wanton destruction. Fortunately, with more thorough research, especially involving veterans of Bomber Command, the books of recent years have put the records straight.
[underlined] Summary of my aircrew training days [/underlined]
I joined the RAFVR in August 1941, wore a white flash in my forage cap to indicate aircrew; and after a long wait at St John's Wood, London, I was posted to Initial Training Wing Torquay, Devon.
Here I learnt the rudiments of subjects such as meteorology, air navigation, aircraft recognition, wireless telegraphy etc, alongside some square bashing and clay pigeon shooting.
I was promoted from AC2 to LAC and posted to Marshalls Airfield, Cambridge for a flying test. I flew with an instructor in a Tiger Moth for about eight hours and passed the initial experience requirement necessary to join the Arnold Training Scheme in the USA.
After some Christmas leave and a short stay at Heaton Park, Manchester, I joined the troopship 'Montcalm' at Gourock, on the Clyde, bound for Halifax, Canada. We were accompanied by another troopship the 'Vollendam' and we were supposed to have had a destroyer as escort for the crossing. Unfortunately the destroyer had to return to base. (It was a World War 1 American destroyer, one of fifty given to Britain in exchange for the use of Bermuda I believe, and it could not cope with the bad weather we were experiencing).
Luckily our two weeks crossing in January 1942 was uneventful although half a dozen ships were sunk in the same area of the Atlantic as ourselves. At this time in the war as many as 60 ships a week were sunk by German U boats in the North Atlantic.
From Halifax we were the first RAF aircrew trainees to travel to the USA in uniform. America had become our Ally just a few weeks before, (after the infamy of the Japanese who had bombed Pearl Harbour, on 7 December 1941, without formal declaration of war, sinking much of the Pacific fleet).
After suffering the privations in Britain – bombing, blackout, blockade, rationing of virtually everything, and the military setbacks such as experienced in Norway, France and the Middle East, America was no doubt the land of milk and honey.
We travelled to 'Turner Field' in Albany, Georgia for a month's acclimatisation, during which time I celebrated my 19th birthday. It was a base for the American Army Aircorps cadets.
Here we were given Army Aircorps clothing and were to be treated like the cadets to all their style of intake training such as:-
– drilling and physical training (callisthenics at 6 o'clock in the morning)
– being given literature on expected behaviour and etiquette!
– marching behind a brass band, playing Army Aircorps music, to all meals and to Retreat (lowering of the American Flag in the evening).
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Having endured basic rations in Britain for a considerable time, every meal at 'Turner Field' was a feast, and as cadets, we were waited on hand and foot by coloured waiters (at this time in the South, coloured people were not considered equal to whites; they were required to sit in the back of buses and in separate parts of the cinema etc and were treated generally as second class citizens). Back in Britain you had to queue up for your meals, get all your meal on one plate, take your own cutlery (in your gas mask case) and wash it up afterwards in a tank of tepid greasy water.
After a month I was posted to Lakeland, Florida (in March 1942) to a Civilian Flying School for Primary Flying Training.
Here I had a very pleasant time indeed. I went solo in a 'Stearman' biplane after the Instructor had 'buzzed off' a herd of cows from the auxillary [sic] landing field by diving at them! I had 40 hours solo, much of which was aerobatics – stalls, spins, loops etc. The flying was over lakes and orange groves in the Florida sunshine. As English Cadets we had much hospitality with local American families and their daughters!
After completion of the Course, we had a few days leave, and a colleague and I hitched a lift to West Palm Beach. We booked into an hotel, but within a short while we were invited to stay with an American lady (Mrs Hubbard), who turned out to be the daughter of Rockefeller (a multi-millionaire and philanthropist). She had an English lady staying with her (who had a son in the RAF) and between them they looked after us for the next two days, like two long lost sons. Her home could have been in Hollywood; it had a beautiful swimming pool within a magnificant [sic] Italian styled garden, with an arcaded drinks bar at one end.
My greatest memory of this occasion, was to meet – and be photographed with – one of the few surviving Fleet Air Arm pilots, who in the previous year had torpedoed the pocket battleship 'Bismark', damaged its rudder, and enabled the British Fleet to sink it in the English Channel. He was touring America as a hero and had been invited to Mrs Hubbard's home. (The sinking of the Bismark was a great British victory, it having sunk the battleship 'Hood', with the loss of nearly 1500 lives.)
After this short break (at the end of April 1942) we were posted to an Army Aircorps Flying School in Georgia for Intermediate Training. Here I started a course of flying on a basic trainer with an Army Instructor. After a number of flying lessons I was unable to convince my Instructor I was safe to go solo on this plane and that was the end of my pilot training. (The US Army Aircorps had a policy of failing a high proportion of cadets and I was one of them; had I been trained in an RAF Flying School in the States the story might have been different). I was disheartened at the time but took the view that I could have killed myself, as one of my friends did shortly afterwards!
I took the train back to Canada (in June 1942) to the RCAF Camp at Trenton, Ontario, and after some interviews and an exam I remustered to U/T Navigator. This transfer did at least give me a chance to see some more of Canada, and I was able to visit Lake Ontario, Toronto and Niagara Falls before I moved on.
A party of us were moved westward for a day or so by train, through impressive Canadian countryside with pine forests and rivers solid with floating logs. The train was pulled by an enormous steam engine, snorting its way through this majestic
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scenery with hardly a sign of civilisation anywhere. We stopped eventually at Brandon, Manitoba, where we stayed awaiting a posting to an Air Navigation School. Whilst at Brandon I managed to spend a weekend at Clear Lake about 60 miles north. It was a beautiful lake surrounded by pine forests (with log cabins, a restaurant, a central hall), where swimming, fishing, and rowing facilities were available. In the evening dances were held in the hall and a Royal Canadian Mounted Policeman was in attendance – it was just like a picture post card! At the dance I met a girl who lived in Winnipeg, who I was able to see again on a number of occasions, as I was posted to the Winnipeg Air Navigation School about a week later (August 1942).
Winnipeg Air Navigation School services were run by civilians, with the teaching of all the subjects by the RCAF.
Winnipeg was situated in the vast grain growing area of Manitoba which was as flat as a pancake – when flying at a few thousand feet you had an unrestricted view to the horizon. The towns, marked by grain elevators and water towers (with the town's name painted on the side), were spaced along the railway line, with other towns scattered in the countryside. All were visible on any cross country route, thus it was impossible to get lost during navigational exercises, even at night, as there was no blackout in Canada!
It was a pleasant, comfortable three months training, spending about half our time in the class room and half on air exercises. We flew in ancient Anson aircraft with civilian pilots, and apart from our air exercises we had to wind up the wheels on take off and down on landing!
The main things I can remember were: the crash of a light aircraft only a few yards away, and the raging fire that ensued that made it impossible to rescue the pilot; the freezing nights practising astro sextant shots. And the more pleasant activitity [sic] of eating Christmas-like turkey dinners every Sunday, and going to dances in Winnipeg, with my friend whom I had met at Clear Lake, Brandon, at weekends. I was awarded my Navigator's Wing on 20 November 1942 and was promoted to Sergeant (I was just a few marks short of getting a Commission).
A few days later we were all on the long train journey back to Moncton, Halifax, breaking our journey for a memorable stopover in Montreal. We returned to England on the luxury liner the Queen Elizabeth, which had been converted into a troopship. We had two meals a day, there were 17 bunks to a state cabin, and we travelled without escort taking only four days to cross the North Atlantic. We were home on leave for Christmas – just one year had elapsed since I was on embarkation leave for my training in North America.
The beginning of 1943 brought about a glut of trained aircrew from the North American and Commonwealth Training Schools.
As a result many hundreds of us were held in holding centres in Harrogate and Bournemouth to await postings. To fill in the time I was posted with others to an RAF Regiment Training Course at Whitley Bay on the coast near Newcastle in the freezing weather of February 1943.
It was not until late April 1943 that we took up flying again, when a party of us were posted to the RAF Air Navigation School at Jurby, at the northern end of the Isle of Man.
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For the next three weeks, still flying in Ansons, I brushed up my navigation (not having flown for five months) with day and night cross country exercises around the Irish Sea, the east coast of Northern Ireland and the west coast of Britain. The weather was quite cool and we even experienced snow in the first two weeks of May. On free days we would take the small 'toast rack' railway from Jurby to Douglas (capital of the Isle of Man) for a day out – it was very quiet in wartime. The only feature I can remember was that all the hotels along the sea front were wired off, as they housed many of the aliens that had been interned for the duration of the war.
On the completion of the course we had some leave and I was posted to the RAF Operational Training Unit at Kinloss, Scotland, on the Moray Firth. I was now set for 'crewing up' in Bomber Command and getting nearer to operational flying.
I arrived at Kinloss in the first week in June. The weather was marvellous and stayed like it for the six weeks we were there. For part of the time a party of us were housed in a large mansion-like property (just for sleeping purposes) and each of us was given a bike to get to and from the airfield. The countryside was beautiful and with the consistent fine weather and the birds singing in the trees and hedgerows, cycling was an added pleasure. It was so peaceful the war seemed very far away indeed. RAF Kinloss was equipped with Whitley Bombers (withdrawn from operational flying in 1942) and were known as 'flying coffins' as they were very sluggish responding to the flying controls – a major defect we were to discover when flying in formation over Elgin (to celebrate a special occasion).
After a few days we were crewed up and our crew consisted of:-
F/O S.R. Vivian – Pilot – 'Viv'
F/Sgt R.C. Wilson – Navigator – 'Reg'
F/O L.A. Underwood – Bombaimer – 'Laurie'
Sgt W. Ross – W/OP AG – 'Bill'
Sgt J. Bushell – Rear AG – 'John'
During the ensuing six weeks we had day and night flying fairly frequently, carrying out exercises such as cross country and formation flying, airfiring, fighter affiliation and bombing practice.
We had some ground work also. I can remember being introduced to the Distant Reading Compass, located near the tail of the aircraft away from magnetic influences. It was a giro-controlled compass, very stable (which could be adjusted by the navigator for the earth's magnetic variation to give true north readings), with electric repeaters for the pilot, navigator and bomb aimer.
I can also remember flying at night, trying to practise astro-navigation, with the sky being barely dark. In the north of Scotland in mid-summer at a height of 10000 ft the sun's glow was present on the horizon most of the night. In this light the Grampian mountains and the Highlands below looked very gaunt and awesome indeed.
At the end of our training our crew had become great friends. We spent time together at Findhorn Bay (on the Moray Firth) on some afternoons, and in the pub in Forres town on some Saturdays. And once in the Mess all one weekend, when we were confined to the Station by the C.O. because we landed in error at RAF Lossiemouth (an adjacent airfield on the Moray Firth) instead of Kinloss! But we drank a lot of beer that weekend!
We left Kinloss for some leave towards the end of July, never to see 'Viv' our pilot again. Little did we know that 'Viv' would be killed in three weeks (just a few days
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after getting married on leave). This was before we even reached RAF Rufforth in Yorkshire, our Conversion Unit for Halifax Heavy Bombers.
We arrived at RAF Rufforth in the middle of August to find that 'Viv' had been reported missing on 10 August 1941 flying as second pilot on a raid to Nurnburg. (I have learned since that the aircraft crashed near Ramsen/Bollanden, Germany. Six were killed including 'Viv' and two became POWs).
All pilots, as captains of their aircraft, had to have two operational flights – 'second dickey trips' – before they could fly their own crews on operations. 'Viv' was on the second of his flights.
We were now a headless crew, awaiting the appointment of another pilot.
From now on it would be apparent that our lives in Bomber Command were becoming a lottery. There was no way we could tell, even at a Conversion Unit before Operations, whether from day to day we would live or die.
During our short stay at Rufforth, about 60 aircrew were killed due to mechanical failure or accidents. Among other accidents, I can remember that two aircraft collided in mid-air, another crashed when a propellor flew off into the fuselage, and a further aircraft crashed at night on a practice bombing raid exercise.
After a few days F/L PGA Harvey was appointed as our pilot, Sgt A McCarroll as our mid/upper gunner (formerly the drummer in Maurice Winnick's dance band – well known on BBC radio pre-war) and Sgt J McArdle as our flight engineer. This completed the crew for our 4 engined bomber, i.e. the Halifax.
F/L Harvey was an experienced pilot having two operational tours in the Middle East in 1941 on Wellington Bombers. It was a mystery to us why he was taking on another tour. Flying on operations deep inside Germany in 1943 was another dimension for him, (with cities heavily defended by ack-ack and night fighters armed with cannon and equipped with radar homing devices), to what he had experienced in the Middle East in 1941. Especially as many of his sorties (whilst being in a war zone) had not been bombing missions.
As F/L Harvey was an experienced pilot, the minimum time was taken to crew up, get familiar with the Halifax, and take on the new disciplines of a flight engineer and a mid/upper gunner. For my part I had to learn how to use 'Gee', a radar device for measuring pulses from two transmitting stations displayed on a cathode ray tube, which were then plotted on a special gridded map, to give pinpoint accuracy of your ground position.
There were air exercises for bombing, airfiring and fighter affiliation. The latter was an exercise to remember (the date was 2 September 1943). For this exercise we flew at 10000ft and a fighter would 'attack' from behind. The two gunners would then cooperate with the pilot so that he could take evasive action. F/L Harvey in taking evasive action managed [underlined] to turn the aircraft on its back, [/underlined] and it was several thousand feet later before the aircraft was righted again. I had spun round in the nose of the 'plane, broken rivits [sic] were rattling around inside the fuselage, and the chemical Elsan toilet at the back of the aircraft had emptied its contents all over the rear of the plane. We were all shaken up by the experience, especially as F/L Harvey had [underlined] 390 operational flying hours to his credit [/underlined] and we did not expect him to lose control. However some good came out of it, in that John the rear gunner decided that from then on he would store his parachute in his gun turret, rather than in the fuselage as required by regulations – this action would later save his life!
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I also decided I would be prepared and have a routine to cover baling out and I learnt the following procedure:-
'Helmet off' – You could break your neck with the helmet still attached to the oxygen supply and intercom!
'Parachute on' – You could jump out without it!
'Handle on the left hand side' – I was left handed (aircrew have been killed with an un-opened parachute with the handle – D ring – on the 'wrong' side!).
In addition (as navigator) I decided that over the target I had a minute or so to spare, so I could fold back my seat, lift up the navigation table clear of the escape hatch and be ready to bale out immediately if necessary. I believe these plans gave me and Laurie (bomb aimer) additional vital seconds, and with the action John took, the three of us saved our lives nearly five months later.
In a week or so we were posted to 102 Squadron to commence our operational service.
[underlined] 102 Squadron 4 Group Bomber Command – Pocklington Yorkshire [/underlined]
Pocklington airfield was situated 12 miles south-east of York, with 800ft hills 3.5 miles NE of the airfield. (Whilst I was there two Halifaxes with heavy bomb loads crashed into these hills after takeoff – that particular runway was not used after that.) It was a wartime airfield with only temporary accommodation, thus all our billets were in Nissen Huts. They had semi-circular corrugated iron roofs and walls, with concrete ends and were dispersed in fields nearby. They were dreary inhospitable places in winter, each heated only by a small central coal burning stove.
Where possible, when not on duty, we sought refuge and relaxation in the 'comfort' of the Sergeants' Mess or in the pubs (i.e. Betty's Bar) or dance halls (i.e. DeGrey Rooms) in the city of York.
Pocklington had three affiliated aifields [sic] – Elvington, Full Sutton and Melbourne. All the airfields were commanded by Air Commodore 'Gus' Walker, at that time the youngest Air Commodore at age 31 in the RAF. He had lost his right arm when a Lancaster exploded on the ground at the airfield he commanded, Syerston, in 1942.
We arrived at Pocklington in mid-September 1943. F/L Harvey was promoted to Acting Squadron Leader in charge of 'A' Flight and we became his crew, which meant we would not fly as frequently on operations as other crews. (This was considered to be a mixed blessing as a tour – 30 operations – would take longer.)
Over the next two weeks we completed a number of cross country exercises, mostly for me to practise my navigation with new equipment. At Rufforth I had 'Gee' radar which enabled me to plot accurate ground positions essential for calculating wind velocities – the basis of all air navigation. Unfortunately the Germans were able to jam this equipment, so that as an aircraft approached the coastline of Continental Europe, the radar pulses were obliterated. Thus the navigator had a race against time to get as much data as possible before we reached the 'Enemy Coast'.
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At Pocklington we had a very new piece of radar equipment called 'H2S' (height to surface). Located in the aircraft it sent out pulses to the ground around the aircraft for 15/20 miles. Reflections were received back as bright specks on a cathode ray tube. The density of the reflections depended on whether the aircraft was flying over sea, land, hills, rivers, cities, lakes etc thus a rough topographical map of the ground (the quality of the picture varied) was displayed on the cathode ray screen.
Best map results were between land and sea, but provided the navigator was reasonably aware of his ground position, he could recognise coastlines, large rivers and lakes, and sizable towns, to and from the target. Thus he could plot accurately the bearing and distance from these land marks, and be able to recalculate wind/velocities maintain required tracks, ground speeds and times to the target. For some more experienced navigators, they would have the ability to blind bomb, without the need to use the markers dropped by Pathfinders (who incidentally also used H2S equipment).
H2S could not be jammed, but nightfighters could 'home on' to the H2S frequency if it was continuously switched on (a hazard not known to aircrews for some time after the system was in operation!). Some aircraft were shot down this way. Another new piece of equipment called the 'airplot indicator' was available to the navigator. This linked the giro compass and airspeed indicator to provide a continuous read out of the air position in latitude and longitude. It was a useful guide to have available, but no navigator would rely on it entirely and give up his own airplot drawn on his own navigational chart.
We also had a hand held 'I.C.A.N. computer', a manually operated vectoring device on which we could plot a course and calculate the airspeed (to make good our desired track and ground speed), before we added this information to our main chart. Two other navigational aids we had used in training were radio bearings taken by the wireless operator and our own astro sight shots. The astro shots were converted to position lines by use of air almanacs. Both these methods were not practical when operating over 'enemy territory'. Even more so when considering that operational aircraft were faster, and the need at any moment to take evasive action (because of flak or nightfighters) would make these methods inoperable.
There were times when navigational aids were not available to us and map-reading over cloud or at night, especially at high altitude, was not possible. Then fall back on 'dead reckoning' methods was necessary. This required accurate plotting of the air position and the use of wind velocities supplied by the Meterology [sic] Officer, or use of those already calculated by the navigator en route. In both these cases they would need to be modified to cater for forecast weather and wind velocity changes and any alterations in altitude during the flight.
Preparing for a bombing mission on an operational squadron was quite a lengthy procedure, occupying a good a [sic] part of the day prior to the night's operation. About mid-morning 'Ops On' would be announced if there was to be a raid that night. Soon the ground crew were busy checking each aircraft's radar, guns, engines etc and filling the wing tanks with over 2000 gallons of fuel. Armourers would load the guns with ammunition and bring up and mount a mix of high explosive and incendiary bombs in the bomb bays for that night's target. (The bombs were stored in a remote part of the airfield for safety, behind blast walls. They would be fused for the target and towed on long low trolleys, by tractor, to the aircraft dispersal points.) Although the target was not disclosed at this stage because of the strict security rules, ground
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crews would have a good idea from the amount of fuel loaded and the type of bomb load, as to where the target would be.
About the same time as the ground crew activities, aircrew would be briefed by their respective leaders. There would be a leader for each discipline e.g. pilots, navigators, bomb aimers etc. The navigator would be one of the busiest; the navigation leader would issue them with flight plans and meteorological information (they would be the first to know the target). They would then plot the route on their chart and smaller topographical maps highlighting towns, lakes and rivers near to their track. Initial courses and airspeeds would be calculated from the wind velocities supplied (these would be modified as more information was gained from 'Gee' and 'H2S' during the flight). It was essential that they kept to their prescribed altitudes, tracks and time table, to maintain concentration of the bomber stream and their time slot over the target (no more than three minutes long).
The aircrew would then go to the Mess, have their operational meal of eggs and bacon (civilians were lucky to get one egg a month!), and fill their thermos flasks with coffee. They would also draw their flying rations of chocolate and orange juice to sustain them during the long night. They would also have available caffeine tablets to keep them alert.
The squadron briefing would follow when all aircrew operational that night (about 150 personnel) were assembled in front of a large wall map of Europe, showing the route and the target. If it was the 'Big City' (Berlin) a gasp would go round the hut, as it was considered to be the most dangerous target of them all. The briefing was carried out by the Squadron Commander, the Intelligence officer, the Meteorology officer and any other specialist whose views were pertinent to that night's raid. The briefing would cover overall details of the operation such as:
– size of the bombing force and the objective of any diversionary raids taking place.
– the weather en route and when returning to base; the forecast wind changes; the extent of cloud on route and over the target; icing risks at various altitudes.
– how the pathfinders would be marking the route and target.
– danger spots for flak and nightfighters.
Finally, all personnel, especially navigators, were asked to synchronise their watches (to the second) to GMT
After this the aircrew drew their Parachutes and Mae Wests, left any personal items in a bag to be picked up when they returned(!), and departed by truck to their dispersal points around the airfield.
At the dispersal point they had time to smoke a cigarette outside the aircraft (not frowned upon in those days), and then to check their equipment thoroughly before they took off. The airgunners checked their guns over the North Sea!
(At times they would get to this point of preparation and have to wait for clearance of fog. The 'Met' officer had guaranteed it would clear but mostly it did not, and the operation had to be abandoned!)
At last it was take-off time and they were directed by the Airfield Controller to the runway, where many of the groundcrew would wave them off into the gathering darkness. Then commenced the long ordeal (5-8 hours) of freezing cold and the heavy vibration and incessant roar of four Rolls Royce Merlin engines, in an unpressurised aircraft, until they returned (with luck unscathed) in the early hours the following morning. On return they went to the de-briefing hut where they were given hot coffee and a tot of rum dispensed by the Padre(!) Then followed by a debriefing
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by the Intelligence officer, who took notes about their bombing run and any details of flak and nightfighters they had experienced during the night. After an egg and bacon breakfast, they trekked back to their respective Nissen huts, crawled into bed and attempted to get some sleep if that was at all possible, and await the next call.
After ten days of cross country flights at Pocklington as S/L Harvey's crew and practising with 'Gee' and 'H2S' equipment, we were considered ready for our first operation. This was a mine-laying trip (described as 'Gardening and planting vegetables') to the coastal waters on the east side of Denmark. Mine-laying was regarded as a reasonably safe and easy task and ideally suited to be a first mission – this turned out not to be so!
On 2 October 1943 we took off, carrying in the bomb bay two mines and their parachutes. 117 aircraft took part mining various places from Lorient to Heligoland. We climbed on track across the North Sea to a height of 10000ft. About halfway across the North Sea, S/L Harvey asked Laurie to take over the controls whilst he visited the toilet at rear of the aircraft. Laurie as bomb aimer would have had some training to assist the pilot on take off but not to fly the 'plane. In fact Laurie had never sat in the pilot's seat of a Halifax before.
[underlined] Now Laurie was asked to fly the 'plane on his first operation and, even worse, as we approached the 'enemy coast'! [/underlined] S/L Harvey really must have had an urgent call of nature! If the rest of us had known at the time what a predicament he was putting Laurie in, then I think we would all have needed 'to go', as well! Luckily for everyone S/L Harvey was back in his place before we crossed the Danish coast.
On crossing the coast there was a loud bang which lifted the aircraft alarmingly, afterwards restoring to level flight. At this point both 'Gee' and 'H2S' went out of action, but we continued across Denmark to our dropping zone described as the 'Samso Belt', which we identified visually through broken cloud.
The bomb doors were opened and we made our dropping run at 8000ft. We then attempted to release the mines but they would not drop. Several attempts were made to release them manually but without success. S/L Harvey then decided to return to base with the mines and tried to close the bomb doors. These would not close. It was now evident that the hydraulic system had been damaged as well as the radar equipment, probably caused by a flak ship as we crossed the Danish coast earlier.
We reduced our height to 2000ft to get under the cloud base and some nasty electric storms across the North Sea; also to pick out a landfall as soon as possible, as I had only 'dead reckoning' means by which to navigate!
As we did not need oxygen at this height I decided to visit the Elsan toilet at the rear of the aircraft. Taking a torch I groped my way to the back in the darkness. I was just stepping over the main spar when by torchlight I noticed a gaping hole beneath me; had I completed the step I would have fallen 2000 ft. into the North Sea! I relieved myself through the hole! I returned to the nose section immediately to confirm to S/L Harvey that there was no doubt that we had been hit by flak. I then had a drink of coffee from my thermos flask to restore my shattered nerves.
It was now obvious the damage was more serious than we first thought. Loss of hydraulic power meant that not only were the bomb doors down, but when the flaps and wheels were lowered for landing, the bomb doors, flaps and wheels could not be
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raised again. If we were to overshoot the runway on landing, we would have crashed – with two mines still on board!
These thoughts kept us silent, with all eyes skinned for our landfall 'Flamborough Head' on the Yorkshire coast, and the sight of of [sic] the flashing pundit that would indicate the close proximity of our airfield.
Luckily my dead reckoning navigation brought us back home on course and we landed safely (otherwise these notes would not have been written).
On landing one of the mines fell out onto the runway. At our dispersal point the ground staff were amazed that we had survived as a crew without a scratch.
Both mines, their release mechanism, the bomb doors and the fuselage had been damaged by shrapnel, and the parachutes badly torn. The hydraulics were severed, the 'Gee' and 'H2S' also damaged. Above the flak hole we discovered the fuselage was peppered with shrapnel holes within inches of the mid-upper gunner's turret.
We were told originally that the aircraft would be written off, but I learned since that the aircraft was repaired. It carried out a number of missions, including targets such as Kassel and Berlin, but sadly was shot down by a nightfighter off Denmark in April 1944, again on a minelaying operation. All the crew died when the aircraft crashed into the sea. (This crew had saved their lives three months before, coincidentally on the night we were shot down, having baled out of a Halifax, short of petrol. Such was the fragility of life in Bomber Command at that time).
Reading the [underlined] Squadron's [/underlined] Operational Record after the war, I found S/L Harvey's statement on our minelaying mission to be totally inaccurate. There was no mention of flak damage and having to bring the mines back, though the [underlined] Pocklington Station [/underlined] Operations Record did report it accurately. I believe S/L Harvey wanted to have a successful tour of operations and a possible DFC award later on.
Having had a near miss with shrapnel close to his turret, Alec McCarroll the mid-upper gunner, decided to report sick before the next operation. In fact he never flew again, and sadly he was labelled LMF (Lack of Moral Fibre), reduced from Sergeant to AC2 and posted to Elvington (one or our affiliated airfields) to general duties. Such arbitrary action was taken by Commanding Officers as a deterrent to all aircrew.
At this time losses in aircrew were extremely high, so much so that one crew hardly knew another before one of them went missing (often becoming obvious by a number of empty beds in your Nissen Hut). Every operation to Germany, especially to places such as Berlin, was almost like 'going over the top'. A succession of such raids could bring on exhaustion and a fit of nerves to anyone. The threat of being branded LMF was made to prevent the possibility of some aircrew refusing to fly. In point of fact only about 0.4% of all aircrew in Bomber Command were branded like this during the war. Nevertheless some, who had as many as 20 operations before they came off flying, were cashiered or demoted with ignominy. For these, it was a great injustice, especially as there were many civilians of military age (in reserved occupations) who would never be exposed [to] such risks. And a large proportion of servicemen, in all Services, who fortunately would not have to face the high risk of death on [underlined] every [/underlined] operational mission.
As the minelaying mission was my first operation and because of the experiences I had on that flight, the Squadron Navigation Officer decided to check through my log
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and chart. He found both completely accurate and commended me on the results which he knew were made under testing conditions. Later he informed me that he was recommending me for a Commission. (Actually this was long overdue and should have been made at the time I qualified as a navigator).
Our next operation was on 4 October 1943 to Frankfurt. This was not a success as firstly S/L Harvey decided to weave all the way to Germany (not normally done unless there is some predicted flak or there are nightfighters about, as it doesn't aid good navigation!). Then without explanation he turned back to base, dropping our bombs into the North Sea on the way. (We had flown five hours out of about seven to complete the bombing operation and had been less than a 100 miles from the target.)
S/L Harvey reported in the Squadron Operations Record "Overload petrol pump U/S. Returned early". I had a feeling that S/L Harvey wasn't very happy that night after our minelaying experiences just two days before. It was frustrating for us, having got near the target, as this raid turned out to be the first serious blow on Frankfurt so far in the war.
Later the flight engineer went sick and as far as I can recall he did not fly again.
Our third operation was on 8 October 1943 to Hanover, when 504 aircraft took part. This mission went without mishap. No trouble on route, it was clear over the target, we bombed on red target indicators (Pathfinder markers) from 17200 ft, and fires were see [sic] to start. This raid was reported as the most successful attack on Hanover of the war. We began to think we were at last OK as a crew but this proved not so.
Apart from a cross country flight and an air test we did not fly any more operations in October. In fact we did not fly any more missions again with S/L Harvey(!) although 'officially' he remained the 'A' Flight Commander until the end of November 1943. Shortly after our third operation I was interviewed by Air Commodore 'Gus' Walker for my Commission. During that meeting he informed me that S/L Harvey was being withdrawn from operational flying, indicating that he had had enough. It did not really surprise me though, especially as Bomber Command had entered a phase when life was becoming very fragile indeed. What did surprise me however was to learn (only recently) that at the end of November 1943 when he relinquished command of 'A' Flight, S/L Harvey was recommended for a DFC. The award was described as "long overdue" for his tours in the Middle East in 1941 and his operations over Germany (one in June 1942 and two with us in October 1943, which included the 'returned early' operation). He was awarded the DFC on 28 December 1943.
Now we were a headless crew all over again, awaiting the posting of another pilot. In the meantime destined to fly as spares, replacing crew members in other crews who were sick or otherwise unable to fly. This was a very demoralising position to be in. As a crew you develop a team spirit and a trust in each other; without a crew you are just a floating part. You have little or no faith in the crew you are joining for that night, or for that matter neither are they likely to have any faith in you. Your life is in their hands and their lives are in yours!
I complained on one occasion to the Acting 'A' Flight Commander about flying as a spare. His reply was "You will probably just carry on like it, until one day you don't come back". Later I checked his career and luckily he survived his first tour and got a
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DFC at the end of May 1944. I have often wondered whether [underlined] he [/underlined] survived the rest of the war!
Laurie Underwood, John Bushell and I (the wireless operator seemed to have disappeared), then flew as spares for the next five or so operations, which was one of the most potentially unnerving periods I can remember.
More than a month had elapsed since I flew on the Hanover operation, before my next mission on 11 November '43 minelaying off the Frisian Islands (near the Dutch coast). I flew with F/O Eddy and 45 aircraft took part. We dropped our mines from 6000ft and we lost one aircraft from our Squadron, shot down by a flak ship. The aircraft ditched in the North Sea. All the crew were missing presumed killed. This was the same aircraft that I flew with S/L Harvey when we went to Frankfurt and returned early on 4 October '43!
My fifth operation was on 18 November '43 to Mannheim/Ludwigshafen flying as a spare with P/O Jackson (Australian pilot) when 395 aircraft took part. It was a raid to divert German nightfighters away from the main force of bombers who were bombing Berlin. We bombed from 17000ft on the green target indicators – bombing was well concentrated. The diversion was successful in that the main force only suffered 2% losses, whereas our losses were high at 5.8%. 102 Squadron did not lose any aircraft that night.
I flew again as spare with F/O Jackson on 22 November '43 to the 'Big City' – Berlin – the most heavily defended city in Germany. 764 aircraft took part, dropping 2501 tons of incendiaries and high explosive in about 20 minutes. This was the second out of 16 raids described as the Battle of Berlin. For all raids the target was the centre of Berlin (Hitler's Chancery) and for each raid the City was approached from a different point of the compass. Unless Pathfinders directed otherwise, bombing on each raid would 'creep back' like a wedge from the target point; thus the whole city over the period of 16 raids would be covered by bombing.
This night our bombing run was from the west and we bombed at 18000ft on the centre of the flares (checked by H2S). A glow of fires were seen through 9/10 clouds. This raid was the third heaviest of the war on Berlin and it was also the most successful. Much damage was done to industrial areas and munitions factories, the Ministry of Weapons and Munitions and many political and administrative buildings. The Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church was also badly damaged, and post war was part restored and became a Berlin tourist attraction. (I suppose it can be compared with Coventry Cathedral, which back in 1940 was ruined by the German Airforce when they devasted the City. And after the War, a new Cathedral was built alongside the ruins of the old.)
The equivalent of nearly three German Army Divisions were drafted in, to tackle the fires and clear the damage which extended from the centre to the western limits of the City. Luckily we experienced no nightfighter attacks or flak damage, and we narrowly missed an accident on return to Pocklington;
Whilst we were still on the outer circuit waiting to land, another Halifax from our Squadron flying on the same outer circuit as ourselves, had met head-on with a Halifax from 77 Squadron. It had been returning to our affiliate airfield at Full Sutton and was also on its outer circuit preparing to land. The two outer circuits unfortunately overlapped and as a result of the mid-air collision both crews were killed outright –
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we had missed that fate by a small margin! John Bushell (rear gunner in our crew also now flying as a spare) had the unenviable task of representing 102 Squadron at the funeral of one of those killed.
I continued my time as spare, flying with F/O Jackson (his navigator must have had a long time off for sickness or, for some other reason, was not flying). This time, 25 November '43, our target was Frankfurt and only 262 aircraft took part. The flight was uneventful, although the gunners had heated discussions about seeing nightfighters, until F/O Jackson, in his casual Australian voice, settled the argument by saying "If they've only got two engines, shoot the bastards down!". We bombed on the red target indicators from 17500ft. Some fires were seen, but it was cloudy over target and the bombing appeared to be scattered. Despite the small force of aircraft, 102 Squadron managed to lose 2 aircraft over Germany, keeping up its record for high losses.
We had hardly got to bed after debriefing from the Frankfurt raid in the early hours of 26 November, when the tannoys blared out for all aircrew to report to their sections to be briefed for another raid that night. We were supplied with caffeine tablets and given 'pink gins' to drink in the hopes that it would keep us 'on our toes' that night. I flew again with F/O Jackson with a small force of 178 aircraft to Stuttgart. This was a diversionary raid to draw off German nightfighters from the main force of bombers whose target was yet again Berlin. We bombed on the red target indicators from 17500ft. Large fires were seen and bombing was scattered but, as planned, a part of the German nightfighter force was drawn off from the main bomber force sucessfully [sic]. We lost one aircraft which crashed near Pocklington and one returned badly damaged by nightfighter (airgunner killed).
We were diverted to Hartford Bridge airfield in the south, so that the main force of Lancasters could use 4 Group airfields, as some of their airfields were fog bound. They were also short of petrol after an exceptionally long flight. Nevertheless 14 Lancasters crashed in England that night. We returned to Pocklington after a weekend in Hartford Bridge, on three engines after one engine failed on take off. This was my last flight with F/O Jackson, who incidently [sic] was previously awarded the DFM. He finished his tour and was awarded the DFC in June 1944 – perhaps I should have stayed with him rather than return to my original crew!
Before Laurie Underwood and John Bushell and I came together again as a crew, I had just one other experience when I was due to fly as a spare. Fortunately the pilot, prior to take off, taxied off the concrete dispersal point into the mud of the outfield and the flight had to be abandoned. Just as well, as I had premonitions about flying that night with this particular crew.
The month of December 1943 proved to be a month of non activity first there was a full moor, then the weather was poor. I was also waiting for a week's leave to get my officer's uniform (my promotion, although it had been approved had not yet been promulgated) and we were awaiting the names to complete our crew.
Eventually, besides Laurie, John and myself, we learned the additional names to the crew. They were:
Pilot – F/O G.A. Griffiths DFM 'Griff' – On his second tour
[page break]
18
Flight Engineer – Sgt J. Bremner ) all had previous ops. as spare crew
Wireless Op. – F/S E.A. Church ) all had previous ops. as spare crew
Mid/Upper Gr. – F/S C.G. Dupuies (French Canadian) ) all had previous ops. as spare crew
It seemed beyond belief that our new Flight Commander did not authorise any cross country 'runs' for us to gain crew experience, or to practise H2S, bombing and gunnery procedures, before we flew on operations together. However it was not to be, and on 29 December '43 we were scheduled on a main force operation to Berlin.
This was the eighth raid on Berlin and the fifth heaviest. 712 aircraft took part, and 2314 tons of incendiaries and high explosives were dropped in 20 minutes. It was an uneventful flight. I remember clearly seeing the outline of the Zuider Zee on the radar screen (H2S always at its best on coastal outlines) as we flew over Northern Holland. Bad weather restricted the German nighfighters [sic] to 66, but these were the more experienced crews with air interception and H2S homing radar and upward firng [sic] cannon. Fortunately, due to two spoof raids by RAF Mosquitos the nightfighters reached Berlin too late to be effective.
We flew into Berlin from the southeast and dropped our bombs from 17500ft on the target indicators but no results were seen owing to 10/10ths cloud. Aircraft losses that night were down to 2.8%, but 102 Squadron yet again managed to beat the average with two aircraft missing! In one of these aircraft Harold Paar, a Chigwell neighbour of mine, was shot down on his first operation. He became a POW in the same camp – Stalag IVB – indeed the same hut, as myself. (I discovered he was a neighbour when my son met Harold's son in the same class at the same grammar school some 20 years later.)
January 1944 began as another month of inactivity, again as a mixture of bad weather. Also a full moon period prevailed, and there was a reluctance to send Halifax 2's out to Berlin because of their increasing vulnerability. However another maximum effort to Berlin was ordered, so our second operation, as full crew again, was scheduled for Berlin on 20 January '44. In addition a second pilot Sgt K F Stanbridge (flying as a 2nd dickey pilot for operational experience) was also included in the crew.
For this operation I was responsible as one of four navigators operating H2S equipment in 4 Group (4 Group comprised of 15 squadrons totalling 250/300 aircraft), to radio at intervals my calculated wind velocities back to 4 Group. These wind velocities from the four navigators were to be averaged and rebroadcast to the whole of 4 Group for their use in maintaining concentration in the bomber stream. In addition I was to do my own blind bombing that night (not bombing on Pathfinder markers), using H2S to identify the homing point for a timed run into Berlin.
This bombing raid on 20 January '44 was to be the ninth raid and the fourth heaviest on Berlin; 769 aircraft took part and 2400 tons of incendiary and high explosive bombs were dropped in 20 minutes. This riad was considered to have been successful although less concentrated than planned. Due to bad weather again over Germany, the German nightfighters were limited to 98 experienced crews equipped with 'schrage musik' upward firing cannon, and radar interception and H2S homing devices. The nightfighters (all twin engined) were also operating a new procedure called 'tame boar', where they were directed by ground control into the bomber stream at intervals and over the target. From this point they could fly freelance and
[page break]
19
use their own equipment to locate bombers, fly beneath them out of sight of the bomber's gunners and fire cannon shells into their petrol laden wings. Additionally on this night, thin cloud covering Berlin with tops about 12000ft was illuminated from below by many searchlights, allowing the nightfighters flying above the bomber stream to locate them, silhouetted against this bright backcloth. Thus, despite the limitation of nightfighters, it was a highly successful night for them, as they claimed 33 victories (nine of them over Berlin) out of the 35 bombers lost.
We took off at 1630hrs GMT on 20 January 1944 in a Halifax nicknamed 'Old Flo' by the ground crew and were soon flying above 10/10ths cloud. Using Gee radar initially and then H2S to 'map read', we flew uninterrupted over a northerly route into Germany, turning southeast about 60 miles from Berlin. Berlin was a large city and there were too many stray reflections on the H2S screen to identify the target position. I was instructed personally at the navigators' briefing in Pocklington to identify a turning point, by taking a precise bearing and distance on my H2S screen, of a small town about 10 miles north of Berlin. This was the commencement of a timed bombing run to the target – Hitler's Chancery. We flew in straight and level at 18000ft, maintaining a pre-calculated track and groundspeed, and at the time set by stop watch we dropped our bombs (2000hrs GMT).
This bombing procedure made us a sitting target for the nightfighter expertise available that night, for we had hardly closed our bomb doors when we were hit by a nightfighter. He had trailed behind and below our aircraft, waiting for our bombs to be released, then fired cannon shells upwards into our starboard wing. With more than 1000 gallons of petrol still aboard it was only seconds before the whole wing was aflame.
I heard 'Griff' our pilot call out; "graveners, Engineer!". (These were switches to activate the engine fire extinguishers.) This was to no avail, and the blaze was so fierce 'Griff' realised the aircraft was stricken and immediately called out; "parachute, parachute, bale out!". I already had my parachute on, and my seat and navigator's table folded back clear of the escape hatch (a discipline I always carried out over a target). I lifted the escape hatch door and dropped it diagonally through the escape hatch, but it caught the slipstream and jammed half in and half out of the aircraft. With the combined efforts of myself, the wireless operator and Laurie, we managed to kick the hatch door clear. I sat on the edge of the escape hatch and dropped through immediately, followed closely by Laurie. The wireless operator had no time to follow us and was killed. I believe after Laurie dropped out, the blazing aircraft went out of control and into a spiral dive.
After baling out at 17000ft, I spun over a few times, then pulled the rip cord. The canopy opened and my harness tightened with a jerk around my crutch, which brought me to my senses in double quick time! Below me and to my left I could see another parachute; it might have been Laurie but I couldn't be sure (I didn't see him again until his wedding after the war!). I was over a layer of light cloud and could see the glow of fires beneath it, and coming up was plenty of heavy flak and tracer shells hosepiping around the sky – I prayed it wouldn't come too near!
I floated down for 10/15 minutes; somehow I didn't feel too cold although it would have been minus 34 centigrade when I jumped out! With a 60 mph northerly wind prevailing I soon drifted away from being near to the centre of the City. The deafening noise from the aircraft's engines, present during flight, had gone and now the sound
[page break]
20
of bursting flak had died away. Instead there was an uncanny silence and the blackness of the night, as I decended [sic]through cloud which covered the area. Nearing the ground I thought I was going to land in marshes and my hand was on the lever to inflate my 'Mae West' (lifejacket), but it turned out to be the tops of trees of a small wood in a southern suburb of Berlin. I crashed through these, falling the last 15 feet and finishing up with a grazed face and a sprained ankle. I think it was remarkable that this was the only injury I sustained throughout this ordeal.
In less than 20 minutes my life had gone through a dramatic change. I had survived death by a hair's breadth. I was elated at being alive, but what of my crew, were they alive or dead? What traumas will my family suffer when they are informed by telegram that I am missing tomorrow morning? A few hours before I was eating my eggs and bacon (only available before operational flights) in the mess at Pocklington, my aircrew colleagues were around me, the friendly town of York was only 12 miles away and home leave to get my officer's kit was imminent.
I was now in hostile Germany, probably in the south-east suburbs of Berlin. What would happen if I were caught by civilians, having just bombed their City? There was nobody here who would care if I lived or died. Germany was now in the depth of winter. I was in enemy territory 600 miles from home, with only some french francs, a handkerchief with a map of France printed on it, and a magnetic trouser button (with a white spot on it which, when cut off my flies and balanced on a pencil point, would point north!). And a tin of Horlicks tablets. Only these to sustain me, whilst I evaded capture and got back to England!
I was a still in my F/Sgt's uniform although Commissioned on 1 December 1943 and I was five days off my 21st. birthday.
About eight hours, later having disturbed a dog whilst trying to hide up in a barn, I was captured by the civilian police. From here to the end of the war will have to be another story.
Laurie 'blacked out' I believe during part of his parachute drop, but landed uninjured and was captured by the Military early the next day.
Out of our crew of eight, only four survived. The other two survivors, 'Griff' (pilot) and John Bushell (rear gunner), had most remarkable escapes from death!
After Laurie and I baled out and the aircraft had gone into a spiral dive, 'Griff' was thrown forward towards the controls. He was held in his seat by the 'G' of the spiral dive. He saw the altimeter unwind past 7000ft and wondered when his end would come, before going unconscious. I believe the petrol tanks of the blazing aircraft exploded and 'Griff' was blown out, regaining consciousness just in time to pull his ripcord a few hundred feet from the ground. His parachute was still on the swing when he thumped down amongst the debris of the aircraft on waste ground in Berlin! He was uninjured but in shock. He wrapped himself in his parachute and went to sleep under a bush nearby, where he was discovered the next morning by a party of civilians led by a soldier.
John was thrown over his guns when the aircraft went into the spiral dive and he lost consciousness. He also 'came to' in the air in similar circumstances to 'Griff' and opened his parachute near the ground, but landed close to a searchlight battery and was captured immediately. John had a bad cut over his right eye and bruised face but otherwise was OK.
[page break]
21
The four crew who were killed, strangely, were all those fairly new to us. The wireless operator and co-pilot were buried in the British War Cemetery in Berlin. When he was captured 'Griff' our pilot was asked by the German Military "Tell us the name of your wireless operator so that we can bury him with a name". The flight engineer and mid upper gunner were not found nor identified, and having no known graves are remembered only on the War Memorial at Runneymede.
It was very sad that the mid upper gunner, F/S C G Dupuies, had avoided flying to Berlin on his 13th operation by flying on a comparatively 'safe' mission instead; only to be killed on this raid to Berlin, his 14th operation. The lucky rabbit's foot he always carried with him was to no avail. I also regret that I had said to the wireless operator, F/S E.A. Church, before this operation, he shouldn't take milk from the Sergeant's Mess for his own use. I had not known that it was for his young wife living near Pocklington who had just had a baby.
After the war we survivors came to realise that 20 January 1944 was a night to remember. We learned through a German archivist that we had been shot down by an ace nightfighter pilot, Hptm L Fellerer, in a twin engined Messerschmitt Bf 110 G 4 nightfighter. He had 41 victories to his credit, had been awarded the Knights Cross and had shot down five aircraft including ourselves on the night of 20 January 1944! He became Gruppenkommandeur of the Nightfighter Group 11/NJG5 at Parchim near Berlin. After the war he became a high ranking officer in the Austrian Airforce but was killed in a Cessna flying accident in the 1970's.
The archivist also gave us a map of Berlin showing where our aircraft crashed, which was about seven miles southeast of Hitler's Chancery at Oberspree. This confirms that we were on target that night, as the crash point was on our track less than two minutes flying time from the release of our bombs.
20 January 1944 was also a significant date for 102 Squadron, as the following extract from the Squadron Operation Record summary on that date shows (microfilm held at the Public Records Office Kew):
"Weather foggy clearing later, Vis: mod to good. Wind s'ly 20 - 25 mph.
[underlined] 16 Aircraft detailed to attack Berlin on what proved to be probably the most disastrous operation embarked by the Squadron [/underlined] which suffered the loss of 5 crews missing (F/O Griffiths DFM, PO Dean, F/S Render, W/O Wilding, & F/S Compton)
Moreover two aircraft were lost in this country, F/O Hall short of petrol had to abandon his aircraft near Driffield, the whole crew baling out successfully. F/S Proctor crash landed near Norwich, the Airbomber F/O Turnbull unfortunately dying from his injuries. The rest of the crew suffered minor injuries as a result. [underlined] Thus no less than 7 of the 16 aircraft which took off were lost including 5 crews – fortunately, an exceptional night of misfortune & unlikely to be repeated. There was also one early return, [/underlined] F/O W.B. Dean, 'W'."
So this was the end of our time in Bomber Command. After re-forming as a crew again, we had done only two more operations making for me only 10 in all.
2 October 1943 – Minelaying (Denmark)
4 October 1943 – Frankfurt
8 October 1943 – Hanover
11 November 1943 – Minelaying (Frisian Islands)
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22
18 November 1943 – Ludwigshaven
22 November 1943 – Berlin
25 November 1943 – Frankfurt
26 November 1943 – Stuttgart
29 December 1943 – Berlin
20 January 1944 – Berlin
Nevertheless we will go down in the annals of 102 Squadron as being shot down on the night when the Squadron suffered the loss of 7 out of 15 operational aircraft, a 47% loss, [underlined] which was a loss greater than in any other operation in the Squadron's history in both world wars. [/underlined]
102 Squadron was not a lucky squadron; after the disastrous night of 20 January 1944, another 4 aircraft were lost on the following night's raid to Magdeburg.
Shortly after this, as the losses continued, the Squadron was ordered not to operate over Germany. Subsequently the Halifax 2's were withdrawn to be replaced by the Halifax 3's, which were equal to the Lancasters of that time in their operational efficiency.
(Unfortunately for our crew the new aircraft arrived too late for us, otherwise we might have had a better chance of survival and been able to complete at least one tour – 30 operations – and perhaps been able to enjoy freedom for the rest of the war).
[underlined] In World War 2, 102 Squadron suffered the highest losses in 4 Group Bomber Command (15 Squadrons), and the 3rd highest losses in the whole of Bomber Command (93 Squadrons). [/underlined]
January 2000
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Title
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Bomber Command and Notes of Some of My Experiences During 1941-1945
Description
An account of the resource
Reg summarises Bomber Command's role in the war then details his personal experiences from training days. He covers in detail the navigational techniques he used. He describes the operation he was on when he was shot down.
Creator
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Reg Wilson
Date
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2000-01
Spatial Coverage
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Germany--Berlin
Great Britain
England--London
France--Dunkerque
Germany--Magdeburg
England--Runnymede
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Chemnitz
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Mühlberg (Bad Liebenwerda)
Germany--Eichstätt
England--Torquay
England--Cambridge
England--Manchester
Scotland--Gourock
Canada
Nova Scotia--Halifax
United States
Georgia--Albany
Florida--Lakeland
Florida--West Palm Beach
Ontario--Trenton
Lake Ontario
Ontario--Toronto
Manitoba--Brandon
Manitoba--Winnipeg
New Brunswick--Moncton
England--Harrogate
England--Bournemouth
England--Whitley Bay
Great Britain Miscellaneous Island Dependencies--Douglas (Isle of Man)
Scotland--Elgin
Scotland--Findhorn
Scotland--Forres
Germany--Ramsen
England--York
France--Lorient
Germany--Helgoland
England--Flamborough Head
Germany--Kassel
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Ludwigshafen am Rhein
Germany--Stuttgart
Netherlands--IJssel Lake
England--Chigwell
England--Kew
England--Norwich
Europe--Frisian Islands
Florida
France
Georgia
Ontario
New Brunswick
Germany
Nova Scotia
Netherlands
North America--Niagara Falls
Germany--Nuremberg
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Devon
England--Essex
England--Hampshire
England--Norfolk
England--Northumberland
England--Surrey
England--Yorkshire
England--Lancashire
England--Surrey
Manitoba
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
United States Army Air Force
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Format
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22 printed sheets
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BWilsonRCWilsonRCv1
Temporal Coverage
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1941
1942
1943
1944
1943-10-02
1943-10-03
1943-10-04
1943-10-08
1943-10-09
1943-11-11
1943-11-12
1943-11-18
1943-11-19
1943-11-22
1943-11-23
1943-11-25
1943-11-26
1943-11-27
1943-12-29
1943-12-30
1944-01-20
1944-01-21
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
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IBCC Digital Archive
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Sue Smith
102 Squadron
4 Group
617 Squadron
77 Squadron
air gunner
Air Observers School
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
bale out
Bismarck
bomb aimer
bomb trolley
bombing
bombing of Dresden (13 - 15 February 1945)
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
crewing up
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
entertainment
Flying Training School
Gee
H2S
Halifax
Halifax Mk 2
Halifax Mk 3
Harris, Arthur Travers (1892-1984)
Heavy Conversion Unit
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
Initial Training Wing
killed in action
lack of moral fibre
Lancaster
Me 110
memorial
mid-air collision
military living conditions
military service conditions
mine laying
missing in action
navigator
Nissen hut
Oboe
Operational Training Unit
Pathfinders
perception of bombing war
pilot
prisoner of war
RAF Driffield
RAF Elvington
RAF Full Sutton
RAF Hartford Bridge
RAF Jurby
RAF Kinloss
RAF Lossiemouth
RAF Melbourne
RAF Pocklington
RAF Rufforth
RAF Syerston
RAF Torquay
service vehicle
Stalin, Joseph (1878-1953)
Stearman
target indicator
Tiger Moth
training
V-1
V-2
V-weapon
Wellington
Whitley
Window
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1794/35730/MWilsonRC1389401-170113-100002.1.pdf
2eae94bb927f83b9bbfa6215308853ca
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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Wilson, Reginald Charles
R C Wilson
Description
An account of the resource
166 items. The collection concerns Reginald Charles Wilson (b. 1923, 1389401 Royal Air Force) and contains his wartime log, photographs, documents and correspondence. He few operations as a navigator with 102 Squadron. He was shot down on 20 January 1944 and became a prisoner of war.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Janet Hughes and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-01-13
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. Some items have not been published in order to protect the privacy of third parties, to comply with intellectual property regulations, or have been assessed as medium or low priority according to the IBCC Digital Archive collection policy and will therefore be published at a later stage. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collection-policy.
Identifier
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Wilson, RC
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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[underlined] MY POW DAYS - POSTSCRIPT [/underlined]
Caterpillar Club
I became a member of this Club soon after the end of WW2. I registered that I had saved my life, having baled out of an aircraft on fire and out of control. In freefall, I manually pulled the ripcord of my Irving parachute, which released the parachute canopy and supporting shroud lines.
The Club has no structure, committees or branches, but is still famous for its huge worldwide membership of airmen who have saved their lives by parachute.
The Wright Brothers of America designed and launched their rudimentary Wright Flyer aircraft at Kittyhawk in 1903. But it was many years before an acceptable parachute was designed to save the lives of aircrew escaping from disabled aircraft.
The Centenary of the 1903 event was celebrated at the Biggin Hill Airshow in 2003, when Barbara and I were invited to a VIP Marquee with a number of the Caterpillar Club members who resided in the London area.
Leslie Irving was the American pioneer who developed the successful parachute. In 1911 at the age of sixteen he jumped from a static balloon, and continued his interest in designing parachutes. In 1919 he designed a parachute pack, using pure silk for the large canopy and the shroud lines, and a ripcord for manual release of the parachute after baling out. His design proved that you could parachute safely from an aircraft in flight. However there was doubt that it was safe to bale out from a stricken 'plane. Until in 1922, Lieutenant H.R. Harris made an emergency jump using this Irving parachute. As a result of his experience the American Air Force adopted the Irving design that same year. And in 1925 the RAF chose the Irving seat pack parachute for their use. WW2 brought about a huge demand for parachutes (seat and chest packs).
In 1922 Irving decided to form a club of those who had saved their lives and Harris was to be the first member. Irving named it the Caterpillar Club and by 1945 there were 34,000 members! (The caterpillar is symbolic of the silk worm which descends gently to earth from heights, by spinning a silky thread from which to hang.)
The Irving Parachute Company gives every member a certificate and a gold tie/lapel pin, shaped like a caterpillar, and with red eyes (red eyes if the aircraft was on fire). The recipient's name and rank are engraved on the reverse.
1
[page break]
The Post War Years
One month after WW2 ended, our surviving crew of four met at Laurie Underwood's wedding. This was a time of great celebration for us and we didn't waste time reminiscing about the RAF or the previous 15 months in captivity!
I remained in the RAF until August 1946 but no longer on flying duties. During this time I was promoted to Flight Lieutenant. I had several months on leave after which I attended an RAF Administration course and eventually was posted to RAF Hornchurch, where I was in charge of the Overseas Holding Unit. This Unit was responsible for looking after RAF personnel, serving in Germany and on leave in the UK. Some, who were on compassionate leave, needed more time to deal with their problems; some, on normal leave, had applied for an extension of leave on compassionate grounds (often 'passionate' rather than compassionate!); some just went absent without leave and had to be arrested by the RAF police! It was not the most exciting job, but I was able to live at home and it filled the time until I was back in 'civvy street'.
After we were all demobbed, the ensuing years were spent on developing our careers etc. I returned to Unilever and eventually became a management consultant. George Griffiths continued flying as a pilot in a civilian air transport company and then, a senior captain with British Airways. Laurie studied accountancy and eventually, as sales manager of Philips, sold mechanised and later computerised accountancy equipment. Johnny Bushell developed tuberculosis shortly after the war, contracted as a result of poor conditions in Stalag1VB. He had one lung partially removed and was awarded a full war disability pension. He was still able to work and became a housing officer for Bedford Council. Johnny remained a bachelor, but George, Laurie and I married and raised families, which gave us little time to muse about our wartime experiences.
Remembering our wartime experiences
Apart from exchanging Christmas cards and an occasional meeting up with Laurie and John, in my business travels around the UK, we didn't meet as a group. I had lost contact with George Griffiths until, sometime in the 1970's, I managed to locate his wife's parents in Craven Arms and they gave me his address. He was still serving with British Airways when, some time later, I phoned him - at precisely 8 o'clock GMT on 20 January (the anniversary of the exact time when we were shot down). This became a pleasant ritual, and every year by this means, we congratulated ourselves on our lucky survival.
I retired in 1984, and George who lived in Ruislip retired some time later. Barbara and I managed to visit George when we stayed over at Northolt to see Barbara's mother - this would be in the early 1990's. George had done some retirement research at the RAF Museum at Hendon, and had obtained photographs and information about the four crew we had lost. They were all killed. Two were buried in the 1939-45 Berlin War Cemetery, and two were
2
[page break]
remembered on the Runnymede Memorial, as they had no known graves. Also, George had obtained (through a German archivist) details of how and where we were shot down. We were not shot down by flak, or a bomb through our wing from one of our aircraft above as first throught, but by an ace night fighter pilot. The archivist had also traced the crash point of our plane in Berlin. In support of this information he had sent George a photograph, a 'history' of the night fighter pilot, and a map of the exact point where the 'plane debris had fallen. (George had landed in waste ground, amongst the wreckage.)
Our 50 year reunion
All this information, and reading several books about Bomber Command and the Berlin Raids, stimulated my thoughts, which had remained dormant on this subject for many years. As a result, we and our wives arranged to meet at a Peterborough Hotel on our 50th Anniversary, to exchange our personal experiences and to celebrate our survival. We dined and raised our glasses "to absent friends" at the exact hour (8pm GMT, 20 January 1994). This was our first meeting as a group since June 1945!
A cousin of Laurie Underwood, hearing about this celebration, contacted the BBC and arranged that a TV Team and a Radio car would attend this meeting, in the afternoon prior to our dinner at 8pm. We were requested to bring any memorabilia we had; which meant we were able to fill in a number of gaps in our experiences. Johnny and I learned how George, when the plane was 'on fire' over Berlin, had been held in his seat, with his head thrust forward and the throttle levers behind his ears, when the plane went into a spiral dive. He had a vivid recollection of seeing the altimeter 'unwind' from 17000ft through 7000ft before he blacked out! He regained consciousness and was 'in the air' in freefall, after the plane's fuel tanks had exploded and he had been blown out of the aircraft. He was now only hundreds of feet from the ground, but managed to pull his parachute ripcord. His parachute opened but was still 'on the swing' when he hit the ground, with the debris of the aircraft around him. Although in shock he had landed virtually unscathed.
Laurie told Johnny and I how, immediately after arriving at Stalag Luft3 Poland in February 1944, he was recruited as an extra lookout, whilst they completed the escape tunnel 'Harry' for the Great Escape. Laurie being a latecomer was not included in the escape. He was lucky, as 50 of the 76 who did escape and who were recaptured, were murdered on the orders of Hitler. Laurie and George, like me, had to march away from their prison camp as the 'Front Line' approached at the end of January 1945. In their case it was the Russians on the Eastern Front. They marched in freezing conditions and then entrained on 2 February to Malag camp, where they stayed until 10 April. They then marched again for two weeks across Northern Germany, and were liberated a week later on 2 May 1945, just south of Ludbeck on the Baltic, by the British Army.
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Thus, by the end of our celebrations at Peterborough, we had learnt more4 about each other's experiences. BBC made a three minute video tape of the occasion, which was sent out over Yorkshire and Look East Television on the Eight O'clock News that night. George and I were interviewed in a BBC radio van and a three minute radio tape of the interview was broadcast from Cambridge also. The tape was so popular that it was broadcast three times.
Following this occasion I began to compile some of my experiences in Bomber Command, and assemble documents, and letters received after being shot down etc.
Runnymede War Memorial
In August 1994 Barbara and I attended the annual Memorial Service, arranged by the Aircrew Association, at the Runnymede War Memorial. This was particularly important to me as we were able to view the names of the two of the four members of my crew - Flight Engineer L Bremner and Mid-upper Gunner C Dupueis - who were killed and have no known graves. Their names are recorded within in the cloisters of the Memorial, and 1994 ws the 50th anniversary of their death. The Memorial lists some 22,000 names of RAF personnel without known graves, who were killed in WW2.
Laurie and Beryl's Golden Wedding in Wetherby and other Yorkshire visits
In June 1995, it being Laurie's Golden Wedding Anniversary, we all met again, this time in Laurie's home town Wetherby, Yorkshire. After the celebrations we took the opportunity of visiting the Yorkshire Air Museum at Elvington, which was a satellite airfield to RAF Pocklington during the war. They were in the process of rebuilding a Halifax Mk 3 Bomber to represent the most famous wartime Halifax, 'Friday 13th', which achieved 128 bombing missions. It was displayed on Horse Guards Parade in London after the war and then broken up!; whereas a Lancaster has a 'place of honour' in the RAF Memorial Flight, and another is displayed in the RAF Museum at Hendon for all time.
There were over 6000 Halifax aircraft built during the war. They were used for over 80,000 bombing and mine laying missions in Europe in Bomber Command, and supported the other armed forces on D Day and in the continuing liberation of Europe. They operated in the Middle-East, and in Coastal Command attacking U-boats in the North Sea and North Atlantic. They also towed airborne troops in gliders to Normandy on D Day, later to Arnhem and, in the final stages of the war, to the crossing of the Rhine.
It beggars belief that any Government would scrap every Halifax built, taking into account its contribution to the success of WW2 and its place in history, but they did!
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It was not until 1983 that there was enough historical interest to consider restoring a Halifax. Yorkshire being the 'birthplace' of the aircraft, it was natural that the Yorkshire Air Museum would take on the task. In 1984, they found the fuselage of a Halifax that had crashed in the Hebrides in 1945. It had been bought by a farmer and used as a hen house! This was acquired by the Museum and moved to Yorkshire. Parts were collected from almost all corners of the world. Pieces from at least three Halifax aircraft were used: the wings came from a post-war Hastings and the engines were donated by the French Air force, (who flew Halifax bombers from Elvington in 1943). The nose section had to be rebuilt from scratch with the help of British Aerospace, aided by volunteer engineers. When we visited the Museum the aircraft was still only partially assembled. It was some years later before it was completed and is now on display, as 'Friday 13th', in its own hanger[sic]. As far as I know, contributions to its construction, both in effort and cost, were all voluntary; no Government money was ever offered.
We also took the opportunity, mainly for the benefit of Laurie and George, of visiting another Museum in Yorkshire. (This site was originally a British POW Camp for German prisoners of war and now converted to a WW2 Museum). One of its exhibits was the replica of the escape tunnel 'Harry' used at Stalag Luft3 for the escape of 76 RAF prisoners (50 of whom were murdered when recaptured). The tunnel was of particular interest, as it displayed the pump system for providing ventilation and the novel trolley mechanism for moving the escapees along its whole length, to the end of the tunnel.
Tom Nelson and Stalag1VB
On 23 December 1995, the Daily Mail had a double page spread featuring life in Stalag1VB, and particularly what happened at Christmas in 1944, when American prisoners of war arrived. Taken prisoner at the Battle of the Bulge, they were in a very sorry state, physically and mentally. The article had been supplied by Tom Nelson (and included a large photograph of him). I did not know Tom Nelson in Stalag1VB as he had been in another barrack block whilst I was there. But I met him in OflagV11B when we were both moved to this camp in February 1945. We shared the same room with two Australian army chaps, until we marched out on 15 April 1945. Apart from a chance meeting, and a fleeting hello in London in 1946, I had not seen him since our liberation at the end of April 1945.
I got in touch with the Daily Mail, and they agreed to forward a letter to him but they would not give me his address. I wrote him a letter and included photocopies of my drawings of OflagV11B, from my wartime logbook. In particular there was a drawing of 'our room', which he and I had signed, along with our two Australian colleagues.
A week or so later I received a phone call (at least two hours long) from an amazed Tom Nelson. He said his memory of OflagV11B was a bit hazy but the signature on the drawing was without doubt his, and we agreed to meet at the RAF Club in Piccadilly and renew our memories.
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After Tom was demobbed, he worked for several American airlines in flight operations, and married Pat, an American. He spent time in America and Germany and returned to UK to run a travel agency. It was then that he joined the Stalag1VB ex-POW Group and attended their annual reunions in Edinburgh. As a result he had collected photographs, drawings, poems and various records about 1VB. He brought these along to the RAF Club, and I was able to copy them.
The most important information I learnt from him, was what had happened to the Muhlberg Stalag1VB Camp Site in 1945, after this area in Germany became part of the Russian Zone. At first Stalag 1VB ex-kriegies, returning to visit the Camp Site post war, were told by the Russians or members of the GDR (German Democratic Republic), that it had been occupied by German refugees who had nowhere to live. And as there were barracks, electricity and water available here, they had made it their home. These were complete lies:
The Camp had become Special Internment Camp No. 1 (with even more barbed wire than Stalag1VB), where Germans who were considered to be a danger to the Soviet State, or for any 'reason', could be interned without any evidence or trial. They were not allowed visitors, parcels, or help of any sort, and were not able to communicate with anybody outside the camp. In a short time it became a filthy, disease-ridden place. This camp remained open until November 1948, during which time about 22,000 'victims of communism' passed through it. Some 6700 of them died of starvation or disease during this period and were buried in mass graves, just northeast of what previously was the RAF compound when I was there. Many others were moved to Soviet camps and never heard of again. All this information was withheld from the general population, and those who did know were threatened with punishment if they disclosed it.
After the closure of the Camp, the Russians removed all the wooden barracks for workers' huts elsewhere. Other structures were sold to local farmers. In the end nothing was left except the concrete foundations of the washhouses,[sic] the barracks, and the 40-holer latrines and the static water 'reservoirs'. The Russians then decided to obscure the place by planting birch trees overall. Soon the site became overgrown with trees and brush.
Now that the Russians have left, East and West Germany unified, and the lies and cloak of secrecy exposed, many of the relatives of those who died in the camp have visited the site. They have put crosses in the area of the mass graves and the place has become a shrine, with its own Memorial.
I met Tom several times in the next few years at the RAF Club but later, he suffered from double vision and did not travel on his own. He put me in contact with Stalag1VB ex-POW Group, which by now was much depleted, and with fewer members had moved their venue south, to Peterborough.
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Public Records Office at Kew
In August 1999 Barbara and I visited the Public Records Office as I needed some more detail for my RAF memoirs on my operational flights in 102 Squadron. Also, as my first pilot had been killed, I wanted to know the circumstances in which my second pilot Sqdn. Ldr. G. A. Harvey, withdrew from flying on medical grounds, yet was later awarded a DFC. This left our crew 'headless' and meant we were destined to fill in as 'spares' until another pilot was posted to the squadron. Being a spare was not an enviable roll to have in operational flying, especially if you were the navigator!
I found the Records Office a fantastic place for providing information. All operational squadrons had their records held on microfilm and every operation throughout the war was accessible. Other documents such as RAF Station records and medal award citations were the original documents, but surprisingly still available on request. Harvey's DFC citation was in great detail and stated his award was long overdue. He had clocked up 390 operational hours in the Middle East in 1940-41.
Mel Rolfe and 'Flying into Hell'
During the period 1999 - 2000, Laurie was in touch with Mel Rolfe, the author of two successful books about crews' experiences in Bomber Command, and was planning to write a third book. As a result of this meeting, Laurie, Johnny and I (but Laurie being the prime subject) featured in one of 20 chapters in the book entitled 'Flying into Hell', which was published in 2001. Our chapter focussed on our first operation, mine-laying, during which we were badly hit by flak and had to bring damaged mines back, in an aircraft without radar or hydraulic power. And our last operation, when we were shot down over Berlin by an ace night fighter plane, with incredible escapes for the four survivors.
In order to advertise his book, Mel Rolfe contacted local newspapers and BBC Radio and gave them the addresses of those mentioned in the chapters. Laurie, Johnny and I, all gave newspaper interviews. Laurie and I also gave 25 minutes live radio interviews, Laurie from Leeds and I from Essex. We were able to get copies of the newspaper articles and tapes of the radio broadcasts. Sadly George Griffiths, our pilot, who had the most remarkable escape, had died suddenly in 1998 and thus could not be featured in any interviews.
Planned visit to the Stalag1VB site
In year 2000 the son of a member of Stalag1VB ex-POW Group, Tony Drewitt, offered to organise a visit to Muhlberg and the Stalag 1VB site, which was enthusiastically taken up by the members of the Group (this included Tom Nelson, Johnny Bushell and myself).
In 1944 Tony Drewitt's father (Harry Drewitt) had lost his best friend in 1VB. His friend had been shot dead by a guard, as he leaned over the trip wire to pick some wild strawberries. In recent years Tony and family have gone to
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Germany, visited Muhlberg Stalag1VB site and the Berlin 1939-45 War Cemetery. His friend and all those British & Commonwealth POWs who died in Stalag1VB, (previously interred in Neuburxdorf cemetery), are buried there.
On these visits to the Stalag1VB site, the Drewitt family met Mayor Brendel and others who, since 1990 (after the Russians and the GDR had left), have openly publicised the atrocities perpetrated in Muhlberg Special Internment Camp No. 1, (previously Stalag1VB). To this end they have formed the Munlberg Initiative Group, to make the Muhlberg Camp a permanent memorial. They have cleaned up the main road through it, marking out the various areas of the camp, and where the mass graves and memorial of the Special Camp No. 1 is situated. Where possible, they have revealed the foundations of the cookhouses, barrack washhouses and latrines etc, which is all that is left of the original camp - see my notes about Stalag 1VB under 'Tom Nelson'.
Mayor Brendel and the Muhlberg Initiative Group welcomed the idea that a party of British ex-POWs and families might wish to visit the site, and said that Muhlberg would like to host to the visit.
Every year ex-kriegies from Poland, France and other countries visit the Neuburxdorf cemetery (about 4000 POWs who dies in 1VB were buried here originally). It now has a War Memorial to represent all the nations who had prisoners there. This visit is now combined with the service, held in the Muhlberg Camp, for the German civilian post war victims who died in the Special Internment Camp No. 1.
As a result, Tony Drewitt agreed with Mayor Brendel that she would arrange the hotel accommodation in Muhlberg, and host an evening dinner with the Initiative Group. The date would coincide with the remembrance services at Neuburxdorf cemetery and Muhlberg Camp site. Coaches would be available for all planned visits.
Visit to Berlin, Muhlberg, Stalag1VB, related sites and Colditz
Day 1
There were over 90 ex-POWs, family and friends including Tom Nelson, Johnny Bushell, Barbara and myself, who flew to Schonefeld, Berlin on 6 September 2001. (The airfield was only a few miles from where I landed by parachute on 20 January 1944)
We were taken in two coaches (which, with their drivers and guides, were to 'look after us' for the rest of our visit), to Treff Park Hotel, about 6 miles southeast of Brandenburg Gate. We had dinner, and then a coach tour of central Berlin. Although the tour was impromptu, with a helpful but inexpert guide, it was sufficient to give us a glimpse of the contrasts between 'East' and 'West'. We had a passing view of the main shopping centres which showed that the 'East' looked deprived with poor buildings, displays and lighting etc. We also viewed the famous graffiti on the remains of the Berlin
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Wall and, at my request, the new Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church alongside the ruins of the original. The original church was destroyed on 22 November 1943, the second Berlin raid that I was on. It was a somewhat similar Memorial to that of Coventry Cathedral, destroyed in 1940, with the exception that Coventry Cathedral was deliberately destroyed.
Day 2
The following morning we were taken to the 1939 - 45 British War Cemetery, where nearly 2900 RAF aircrew, killed furing the Battle of Berlin and other raids in East Germany, are buried. (Only 800 of the 4000 shot down in the Battle of Berlin, survived this operation - John and I are two of these). Many whole crews are buried together, in lines of seven graves, running up to the Stone of Remembrance and on as far as the Cross.
The Cemetery is situated in an area of woodland, which is part of the Grunewald Forest in the district of Charlottenburg, west of Berlin. It was beautifully maintained, as are all British War Graves. Barbara and I together with Johnny Bushell, took some time locating and placing poppies on the graves of our two crew members who are buried here: F/Sgt. K F Stanbridge (Co-Pilot), and P/O. E Church (Wireless Operator), as they were not side-by-side, but on opposite ends of the Cemetery. We found Ken Stanbridge's grave first and I remembered that Ken had passed George Griffith's parachute to him, not long before the aircraft went into a spiral dive. George lived and Ken didn't. Visiting Eric Church's grave had a particular significance for me, as he had helped Laurie Underwood and me, kick out the jammed escape hatch, and he should have followed us out. But the 'plane must have gone into the spiral dive immediately after we had baled out, and he had no chance to bale out - just a few seconds, between life and death. George, Laurie, John and I, were incredibly lucky to survive this event.
Following personal visits to the graves of colleagues, Reverend Michael Whelton (a friend of Tony Drewitt who was acting as the 'Padre' for the party) held a short but emotional service. Then a wreath was placed on the Stone of Remembrance before we continued our itinerary to the centre of Berlin.
I was glad that Johnny and I had been able to make this visit to the Cemetery after so many years and it closes a chapter in my mind.
In Berlin, we first visited the Brandenburg Gate. This also had some significance for me, for it was 18000 ft. above here that we were attacked by a night fighter and shot down in 1944. Our target had been Hitler's Chancery which was just south of the Gate. Our second visit was to the Reichstag, a short distance away. The Reichstag was not destroyed during WW2. After the re-unification of East and West Germany in October 1990, when Berlin became the Capital again, it was to house the German Parliament. It was renovated by the British Architect Sir Norman Foster, who had been chosen to do the work. His idea was to enlarge the Plenary Hall and add a new modern glass cupola, from which the public could view Parliament in action - its main feature. The task was completed in 1999. Although the cupola could be seen
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from outside the building, we didn't have time to go inside to view it, before we continued our journey south to Muhlberg.
We travelled about 75 miles to Muhlberg through mostly open countryside, passing several buildings or barracks that were once occupied by the Russians, and were now in a dilapidated state.
Muhlberg is a small town on the river Elbe, noted for its number of Renaissance buildings (which luckily escaped damage when the Russians advanced through it on their way to Berlin in April 1945). But today the town is also remembered for its close proximity to the Prisoner of War Camp, Stalag1VB which, post-war, became 'Special Internment Camp No. 1' where German civilians suffered under Russian Occupation.
On arrival we were met by Mayor Brendel and a number of helpers, who took us to our small hotels or private accommodation dotted around the town. In the evening we were invited to a reception in the Town Hall organised by Mayor Brendel and the Muhlberg Initiative Group.
The reception was addressed by a Representative from Berlin, to all of us from the Stalag1VB ex-POW Group and those connected with the Muhlberg Initiative Group; this being the 11th. Anniversary of their Memorial and Remembrance Meetings.
In the address he explained that Initiative Groups were formed all over Germany (after the Reunification in 1990), by survivors of the Special Internment Camps, to remember and make known the atrocities perpetrated by the Russians during their occupation. To this end the Initiative Groups have preserved sites like Muhlberg, Buchenwald, Sachsenhausen etc, and set up small museums, containing documents and photographs, so that the younger generations (their children and grandchildren) will know about these dark days of their history. To these memories they have added the wartime atrocities of Nazi Germany, in their own country and the occupied countries of Europe. In Muhlberg, they have also included Stalag1VB, as it is said hundreds of thousands of POWs from all over the world, passing through the camp from 1939-1945, suffered from cold, damp, overcrowding, poor inadequate food and lack of hygiene. There were many deaths, many more than those recorded in Neuburxdorf Cemetery, including thousands of Russian POWs who died of typhus in the early years of the war and were buried elsewhere.
After the address, to complete the evening we were hosted to a fantastic buffet dinner, provided by the people of Muhlberg, who really did appreciate our visit to their town.
Day 3
The following day (punctuated by heavy bouts of rain) we visited the small Muhlberg museum which had, apart from their local history, records, drawings and artefacts donated by ex POWs from 1VB. This was followed by a lunch of
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soup, goulash, hunks of bread and coffee (warming and very welcome), provided by the Town Fire Service. Luckily it was in a Marquee, erected for the occasion, which sheltered us from the drenching downpours.
In the afternoon we were taken in our coaches to Neuburxdorf and we viewed the railway sidings, where all POW's had 'disembarked' from their cattletrucks, for their march to the sinister Stalag1VB in the middle of the flat fields of Saxony. I recall the ground was covered with slushy snow and the camp site looked as if [it] were in the extremities of Siberia!
After the visit we proceeded to the Neuburxdorf Cemetery to attend the annual memorial service for all POWs (Polish, French, British, etc.), who died in 1VB and were buried here. During this service, our exPOW Stalag1VB Group dedicated a plaque, which was laid in the Cemetery as a Memorial to the 60 British POWs, who were buried here and now removed to the Berlin site. The plaque was donated by the Canadian RCAF.
To complete the day's visits we travelled the short distance to the Stalag![1] VB site. We drove through what was originally the East Gate. The lagerstrasse or main road was still there, but now flanked with birch trees and undergrowth which covered the whole site. As described earlier, the Muhlberg Initative Group and associates had cleared some parts of the camp to reveal the concrete foundations of washhouses and latrines. They had marked out the areas of the various compounds and the two cookhouses. As my barracks was close to the French cookhouse, Barbara, John, Tom Nelson and I, were able to locate the area of the barracks, but due to the undergrowth we were unable to reach it. But we were able to get to the site of our 40-holer latrine, which still had (though somewhat crumbled) the concrete foundation and septic tank below. It still had four open channels in the concrete base. Over each channel there had been a long wooden rectangular box as a seat with ten holes in it, (so 40 of us could be there at one sitting!)
We were only a short distance away from the mass burial site of the victims of Special Camp No. 1, just a few yards to the north-east of us. Here, there is now a large Cross erected as a Memorial to the 6700 German detainees who died of starvation and disease (1945-48). Amongst the undergrowth, near the Cross, there were many smaller crosses put there by relatives and friends over previous years.
We joined the Muhlberg Initiative Group, again in a drenching downpour, with relatives and friends (of several nationalities), for their annual service of remembrance, at the Memorial. Then we made a further inspection of the remnants of the Camp, nearer the West Gate entrance, before returning in our coaches to Muhlberg.
So we said 'goodbye' to the site of Stalag1VB and Special Camp No. 1. It was now a 'sleeping forest' of birch trees, encompassing (in this terrible place) the memories and miseries of probably hundreds of thousands of 'prisoners' from many nations, who passed through it during the war years and the aftermath.
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On return to Muhlberg, we attended yet another Memorial Service in the Church, just for ourselves this time, before we had our evening meal in the Town Hall. This was followed by Lew Parsons (our Chairman) giving a slide presentation of photographs of Stalag1VB to local people, including some older children, who afterwards asked us questions about the camp and WW2.
Day 4
On our 4th day we visited two preserved POW Camp sites, Jacobsthal and Zeithain. Both were originally slave camps for Russion POWs. Later Jacobsthal was a punishment camp for Stalag1VB I believe, (though Zeithan seemed to have more evidence of Russion prisoners). We were told that many tens of thousands of Russians who died of a typhus epidemic in 1941-42, are buried in mass graves beneath the lawns at the entrance to this camp. It now has a Memorial Archway, erected by the Russians during their occupation after the war.
At Zeithain, the Initiative Group had built a wooden hut to illustrate the type of barracks used to house POWs. We had to criticise it, as it did not illustrate the conditions under which prisoners had to live. It had no rickety three-tier bunks, it was not overcrowded or dilapidated, it had no floor of bricks set in earth, and it did not indicate the unhygienic state of living. They also had a small museum which included photographs showing guards and others, mistreating and punishing prisoners.
Our next visit was 30 miles or so southwest, for a tour of Colditz Castle. We had lunch in a restaurant first and then (in the pouring rain again), we made our way up hill to this gaunt formidable place.
Colditz Castle, first mentioned in 1014, built on a hill overlooking the rive Mulde, was never used as a stronghold. It was destroyed by fire in 1504, and rebuilt in 1583. Used as a residence and then a hunting lodge, the building was not popular and fell into decay. In the 1800s the State took it over as an alms house and then a workhouse. In 1929 it was used as an asylum, then a prison for anti-fascists and finally an old folks' home until 1939, when it became a POW Camp until 1945.
Colditz was used for high ranking officers and persistent escapees, as it was considered to be, because of its design and location, virtually escape proof. In fact it became an 'academy for escapers'. Over the period of the war, 300 escape attempts were made - only 120 prisoners got out but were recaptured, 31 escapees got home. The camp was a hive of ingenuity, manufacturing German uniforms, forging documents, and finding ways to get out via the main gates. The most audacious plan was to build a glider for two escapees, to be launched from the roof. It was to be catapulted to give it gliding speed to get over the river Mulde. This was to be achieved by dropping a bath tub filled with concrete, 60 feet 'through' the floors of the castle, to pull a cable attached to the glider. The glider was built in an attic, behind a false wall above the Chapel, but the plan was never carried out as the war ended sooner than expected. (Later another glider was built to the plan specifications and tested
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successfully!) One of the first British escapers to get home was Airey Neave. Post-war he became an MP and was murdered by the IRA, when his car was blown up by a bomb in the Palace of Westminster car park.
Our visit to Colditz covered only a small part of the building, mainly the rooms adjacent to the spiral staircase. At the top of the building we saw a copy of the famous glider and some of the rooms of the high ranking POWs. A museum covered several floors with photographs, displays of escape clothing, forged keys and documents, 'rubber stamps' for approving passes etc., a sewing machine made of wood and several other artefacts. A 'tunnel' constructed by the French POWs was exposed. It was unusual, in that it was made up of channels located between walls and floors and not as you would think, dug underground. My general impression was that Colditz was a claustrophobic place compared with the three camps I experienced. But they were probably better supplied with food than we were and had better amenities.
The camp was liberated on 16 April 1945 by American forces. They had made rapid advances to the east and did not know that this castle was a POW camp. The Germans were still defending the town and castle approaches. The Volkssturn ('Home Guard'), now integrated with the Wehrmacht by Hitler, were also active in its defence. The American Commander was just about to order the shelling of the Castle, when Allied flags were waved from windows high up in the building! This saved the day and the order was cancelled - another bout of 'friendly fire' was averted, and no doubt casualties as well!
After this visit we returned to Muhlberg, stopping on the way to view Strehla on the river Elbe, where the Americans and the Russians met in April 1945. It was fifteen miles or so south of Torgau, which was later named as the official meeting place, on 4 May 1945. In the evening we returned to the Town Hall for our final meal of the tour.
Day 5
After breakfast we assembled at the Town Hall and said goodbye to the people of Muhlberg. We travelled, accompanied by Mayor Brendel, to Holzdoff Airbase (where her son was stationed) for a presentation by the Stn. Commander.
Holzdoff was a Helicopter Base (a part of the new German Airforce) and was involved in civil duties. The Commander gave a detailed talk about the work of the station. We were given a tour of the hanger[sic] responsible for the maintenance of the helicopters and a demonstration by the fire fighting services. This was followed by a snack, before we continued our journey to Schonefeld and back to Stansted.
We arrived back in Stansted on the evening of 10th September, after a very busy and successful tour. We were to find that we were back 'in the present day' - just a few hours before the atrocities perpetrated by terrorists in New York (nine/eleven!) were to make a 'world change' of momentous proportions.
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Tom Nelson and his American wife, both knew New York well, and were very upset about what had happened. Sadly Tom, who had not been completely fit for some time, died suddenly later that year, in November 2001.
Stalag1VB ex-POW Group Reunions in Peterborough
The 1VB reunions were held every year over the weekend nearest to the 23 April, which was the day the camp was liberated by the Russians. Barbara and I have attended these in April, years 2002-4 and we will attend next year, which will be the 60th anniversary of liberation day, Saturday 23 April 2005, and the final reunion for the Group. This will be a memorable occasion. No doubt the day will end with an even more rousing rendition of 'Land of Hope and Glory' which is sung every year. It was sung in 1VB, in place of the National Anthem, which was disallowed.
Medals
After my 80th birthday I decided that, for the sake of my children and grandchildren, I should claim my medals. According to my assessment I was entitled to four. If Bomber Command had been awarded a campaign medal, it would have been five. Air Chief Marshall Sir Arthur Harris said that 'every butcher, baker, and candlestick maker' within 200 miles of the front got a campaign medal ... but not Bomber Command'. The post-war government was embarrassed about the heavy loss of life in the bombing of Dresden, and the aircrews got the blame for it! As a result a campaign medal was not granted, despite their courage and dedication, in high risk bombing operations night after night. Bomber Command aircrews, mostly in their early twenties, carried out orders in a total war situation, and suffered the highest casualties of all the British and Commonwealth forces during the whole of WW2.
In fact my claim for medals finally amounted to three; the fourth medal, the Defence Medal, required three years' non-active service. After deducting elevan and half months training time abroad, I could only muster two years nine months, even adding my Home Guard time before I joined the RAF. The rest of my war service (one year three months) was as a POW, and I was told by a civil servant in the Medal Agency, that the time as a POW didn't count! (In America, there was an additional medal - for being a POW!)
My medals are:-
* 1939 - 1945 Star - active service.
* Aircrew Europe Star - aircrew active service Europe 1939 - D Day 1944
* War Medal - general service.
These are still in a small cardboard box with a piece of ribbon for each rolled up in it, sent to me by registered post. There was no covering letter, only a printed list of all the medals available, with their ribbon colours, so that you can match the medal to the ribbon yourself.
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Footprints on the Sands of Time (Bomber Command Prisoners of War in Germany 1939 - 45) by Oliver Clutton-Brock
This unique book, published in 2003, covers the German POW Camps. It includes anecdotes and stories of aircrew in the camps, covering capture, escape, liberation, those who were wounded, suffered illness and many that were murdered. It lists all the 10,999 POWs, who did not suffer in any way like those in the 'Holocaust' yet, nevertheless, experienced poor living conditions in German hand. They owe their health and many of them their lives, largely due to the food, clothing etc. supplied to the camps by the International Red Cross.
I add a few comments here about the treatment of POWs featured in this book, which I have not referred to directly in my experiences. It is important to include them here, as they are the additional risks that aircrew were exposed to, when they baled out near or in the target area, in the last two years of the war.
Also I refer to escaping and getting back to England, which only a tiny number succeeded in doing, despite the large number of prisoners who attempted it.
Additional risks to Aircrew in 1943-45
From mid-1943 onwards, after baling out into enemy territory, the treatment received on capture was a matter of luck. Many were humiliated, beaten and murdered. It was estimated, that one-in-twenty captured aircrew never returned home, overall more than 800 RAF were lynched or shot.
Personally my capture was reasonably civilised. Apart from the hint, at a suburban police station, that I was a 'terrorflieger', and experiencing with a part of other captured RAF, ugly threats from a crowd of civilians at a Berlin main railway station, I was ok. But of course we were under armed guard at the time!
Interrogation at Dulag Luft for me was a relatively mild experience, and the 'heat treatment' I received lasted only a couple of days. However this book states the Kommandant and some of his staff were tried for War Crimes in 1945, and he was given five years' imprisonment for his use of heat treatment (from 1943 onwards), and for withholding urgent medical attention from some wounded aircrew whilst they were being interrogated.
Following the Hamburg raids in August 1943 when the port and town were virtually destroyed, Himmler ordered the police not to interfere with the lynching of aircrew (who had baled out) by the civilian population. In March 1944 after the murder of the 50 escapees from Stalag Luft 3 POW Camp, Hitler ordered that airmen making emergency landings in Germany should not be protected by Wehrmacht from the atrocities perpetrated by the enraged population. In June 1944 Goring, Ribbentrop, and Himmler stated that airmen
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strafing trains, non military targets etc, would not be protected as POWs. In 1944 generally, there was a 'drip down' from the Nazi leaders to all the Military and Luftwaffe, not to interfere when civilians had taken action against captured airmen. They were also encouraged to take the lives of the hated 'terrorflieger'. After the Dresden bombing in February 1945, Goebbels stated that the 1929 Geneva Convention wasn't worth the paper it was written on. He hinted to the neutral Swedish press, that more heavy raids could result in all RAF and American airmen POWs, now in custody, being summarily executed! Hitler subsequently dropped the plan.
Churchill, early in 1945, was fearful of reprisals against all POWs in Germany. He suggested to Roosevelt and Stalin that a warning to Germany - not to maltreat prisoners - should be made by the Allies. But it was not until 23 April 1945, (due to the prevarication of Stalin,) that warning leaflets were dropped over Germany. By that time the war was almost over.
The worst excesses of murder happened during the last 12 months of the war and this book describes a number of them. The following example relates to what happened to a flight sergeant rear funner from my squadron (102). On 24 December 1944, a Halifax on a raid to Mulheim, was shot down near Neuss. All seven crew baled out, but only F/Sgt J G Williams was known to be captured at the time. He was taken by car, by the police, and handed over to Kreisliter Johannes Esser (Nazi Party Official) who took him to a room where he was reproached and beaten for bombing the town. He was then shot in the head and his body taken to a cellar, where it was wrapped in paper and sacking and tied with string. Esser and another, then took the body by car and threw it into a stream running into the Rhine.
On 28 September 1946, Esser was sentenced to death by a Military Court and hanged in Hameln prison, on 23 January 1947.
It is possible that the pilot and mid-upper gunner were also murdered on the same day. No details are known, but a letter from the MOD, as late as 1982, to their next of kin, suggests that a war crime was committed against them and four Germans were tried for the killings, in 1948. Looking up 102 Squadron records, I find that three of the crew were killed (murdered?) and the remaining four survived as POWs. This is an example of the 'hairs breadth', between life and death, when members of the same crew were captured by different Germans, probably only a few hundred yards apart.
Escaping - 1939 to 45
Despite the large number of Bomber Command POWs, there were only 34 successful escapes from prison camps, of aircrew, during 1939 - 45. Most of these were by aircrew, exchanging their identities with working parties who worked and lived outside the main prison camps. There were eleven (over the war period) who made their escape from Stalag V111B by this means. Not all got back to England in good time; some former Polish aircrew (now in RAF) stayed with the Polish Resistance until the war ended! Others stayed with Underground Forces until liberated by the Allies.
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There were two escapes, both from Stalag Luft 3 that were made via tunnels. The most famous, the 'Great Escape': 76 POWS (out of 200 planned) managed to get out before the tunnel was discovered. Unfortunately 73 were recaptured and Hitler ordered the murder of 50 of them, as a reprisal. Only three, two Norwegians and one Dutchman, all in the RAF, managed to get back to England.
The other, earlier escape, planned at the beginning of summer 1943, 'The Wooden Horse', was probably the most ingenious and most successful of them all. Everyday a wooden vaulting horse was carried out to the same spot, only 30 metres from the wire. While other prisoners exercised, Eric Williams, Michael Codner and Oliver Philpot, would dig from a trap door beneath it. After 114 days of work, the three men finally escaped on 29 October 1943. All three, Oliver Philpot separately, caught a train from the local station, Sagan. Philpot posing as a Norwegian reached Danzig, slipped aboard a ship and arrive in Sweden on 3 November and was taken by police to the British Legation in Stockholme the next day. The other two got to Stettin, then by ship to Copenhagen, and finally to Sweden and the British Legation in Stockholm on 13 November. After being delayed by a spell of bad weather, they were flown home at the end of December.
I met Oliver Philpot at the end of the 1950s, when he was Chairman of Truefoods (a Baby Foods Company), then owned by Unilever. I was in Organisation Division and doing an assignment there. Shortly afterwards he was made the Head Office Manager of Unilever House.
Memories of my RAF service
1. These are contained in the following documents, computer files and on floppy disc:-
BOMBER - deals with my time in the RAF until I was shot down.
NOEL COWARD - a poem paying tribute to Bomber Command
POW DAYS - covering my prisoner of war days to the end of the war
POW Days Postscript - covering events post war until 2004
2. There are also other records and papers:-
* Pilots Log Book and Observers/Navigators Log Book.
* A wartime log written as a POW, which also contains photos and sketches (unfortunately not completed).
* Two binders
Red - containing telegrams and letters from relatives and friends, and memorabilia, after I was shot down and became a POW.
Blue - containing details or [of] my bombing raids and when I was shot down over Berlin, with drawings and photographs.
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* All my POW letters to my parents.
* There are short one-page descriptions of the following events
- 'RAF arrive with pyjamas'
- 'Friendly Fire'
- Our Incredible Escape'
* The following events covered in my documents have supporting records
- 50th anniversary of our survival, celebrated at the Post House, Peterborough: there are photographs, a 3 minute video tape broadcast over the BBC 'Look East' network; a 3 minute radio tape of me and George Griffiths (Pilot) broadcast several times over BBC Cambridge Radio; Laurie Underwood also produced a video tape of the whole event.
- Attending Runneymede Memorial Service (ACA) to pay our respects to the two of our crew who have no known graves - photographs and programme of the service.
- Laurie Underwood's golden wedding anniversary, visit to the Yorkshire Air Museum to see the Halifax Bomber being rebuilt - photographs
- Tom Nelson meetings - his Daily Mail newspaper article re Christmas at Stalag1VB, photographs, drawings, poems of Stalag1VB, also photographs obtained from the Stalag1VB website
- Visit to Kew Public Records Office - extracts from 102 Squadron micro film operational records, original records of Pocklington Station and S/Ldr Harvey's DFC citation.
- Visit to Germany covering Berlin, Muhlberg, Stalag 1Vb site etc. - photos and data (including descriptions of Stalag 1VB post war from the German Muhlberg Initiative Group). There is also a map of the area highlighting places connected to our visit and when I was shot down.
- Two local newspaper articles and two 25 minute radio tapes (also recorded on a CD), of live interviews of me at BBC Radio Essex and Laurie Underwood via a telephone link to BBC Radio Leeds, used to advertise the book 'Flying into Hell'.
3 A number of books about Bomber Command, the Berlin Raids, a book and two journals about 102 Squadron, and two books about RAF POWs were used in making my own records
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4 Sundry items that support my records:-
- Banner of all Bomber Command Squadrons
- Banner of all Halifax Bomber Squadrons
- My Commission Parchment
- Framed picture and separate copies (one black & white and one coloured picture) of Stalag 1VB layout.
- Photo album of my training days in USA and Canada
- Photo of a Halifax 3 Bomber and a large model, made by my son-in-law, David Hughes
March 2005
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Dublin Core
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Title
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My POW Days - Postscript
Description
An account of the resource
Reg starts with a page about the Caterpillar Club then describes his life after the war. Over the years he had many reunions and he undertook research regarding the four crew members who died the night they were shot down. In 2001 he and 90 or so ex-prisoners of war went on a tour of German war graves, Stalag IVB and Colditz.
Creator
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Reg Wilson
Date
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2005-03
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Craven Arms
England--London
England--London
England--Peterborough
Germany--Lübeck
England--Runnymede
England--Wetherby
Scotland--Edinburgh
Germany--Mühlberg (Bad Liebenwerda)
England--London
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Colditz
Germany--Torgau
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Mülheim an der Ruhr
Germany--Neuss
Poland--Żagań
Poland--Gdańsk
Sweden--Stockholm
Poland--Szczecin
Denmark--Copenhagen
Poland
Germany
Denmark
Sweden
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Shropshire
England--Sussex
England--Yorkshire
England--Surrey
England--Bishop's Stortford
Coverage
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Civilian
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Canadian Air Force
Wehrmacht
Wehrmacht. Luftwaffe
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eng
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Text. Memoir
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19 printed sheets
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MWilsonRC1389401-170113-100002
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
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IBCC Digital Archive
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Pending text-based transcription. Under review
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Sue Smith
102 Squadron
aircrew
anti-aircraft fire
bale out
bombing
Caterpillar Club
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
Distinguished Flying Cross
Dulag Luft
escaping
final resting place
Goebbels, Joseph (1897-1945)
Goering, Hermann (1893-1946)
Halifax
Halifax Mk 3
Harris, Arthur Travers (1892-1984)
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
Lancaster
memorial
mine laying
navigator
pilot
prisoner of war
RAF Elvington
RAF Hendon
RAF Hornchurch
RAF Pocklington
Red Cross
Roosevelt, Franklin Delano (1882-1945)
Stalag 8B
Stalag Luft 3
Stalin, Joseph (1878-1953)
the long march
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1794/35710/MWilsonRC1389401-170113-100001.2.pdf
e091b70217cd293106ad0a7b6528b79c
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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Wilson, Reginald Charles
R C Wilson
Description
An account of the resource
166 items. The collection concerns Reginald Charles Wilson (b. 1923, 1389401 Royal Air Force) and contains his wartime log, photographs, documents and correspondence. He few operations as a navigator with 102 Squadron. He was shot down on 20 January 1944 and became a prisoner of war.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Janet Hughes and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-01-13
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. 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.
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Wilson, RC
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1
[underlined] MY PRISONER OF WAR DAYS
This follows the notes of my experiences in Bomber Command which ended with being shot down over the target in Berlin at 20:00 hrs on 20 January 1944) [/underlined]
My Capture (21 January 1944)
Parachuting from 17000 ft. in a strong north-westerly wind, meant that about 17 minutes later I landed, luckily well away from the bombed area of Berlin, in a quiet leafy place. I had descended through cloud and crashed through trees in a small wood in a suburb to the south of Berlin. I was amazed to find that I had sustained no injuries, apart from a grazed face and a sprained ankle. I released my parachute and removed my mae-west life jacket (these I hid from sight as best I could) and made my way to the edge of the wood.
I was now on the edge of a tree-lined street of suburban houses, and I could hear the voices of two or three people as they walked along the street. Somehow I did not feel scared, but nevertheless I dodged behind trees as they passed by. I think that the enormity of the occasion, and that I had survived almost without a scratch, had filled me with some kind of elation at that time, (although I had no idea whether any of the rest of the crew were alive or dead).
I proceeded furtively along the street and then quite suddenly I felt an urgent call of nature, and had to find a spot where I could 'do it' immediately! This was in somebody's front garden: I have often thought since what would have happened if I had been discovered in this position by a local resident, especially as I had just bombed their city!
The street lead out into a country road with houses scattered along it and I decided this was the best route to follow, as I might find a farm building where I could hide for the time being. It was now late evening, in January, and although cold it was dry and I did not feel too much discomfort apart from my sprained ankle.
I walked on through the night and soon it would be getting light and I needed to 'hole up' somewhere. I turned off the road towards a barn and disturbed a dog which started to bark. Almost from nowhere an old man appeared, who apparently was 'knocking up' people (farm workers start early in Germany like everywhere else). He saw me and he said "kaputt" and I nodded. I could have knocked him down, but I decided discretion was the better part of valour. As I was near the Berlin suburbs in Germany, not Holland or France where some help from the Local population was possible, any resistance here (in enemy territory) could end in disaster for me.
The old man telephoned from the farm and shortly afterwards two policemen appeared, one brandishing a revolver and a pair of handcuffs. He indicated to me that if I walked with them they would not handcuff me, but if I started to run away they would shoot me. As by now my sprained ankle was causing me
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trouble, I hobbled alongside them back to one of their houses, where I was exhibited to the policeman's wife before I was taken to the police station.
From Police station to Dulag Luft
At the police station I was searched and all my few possessions – my wallet, cigarette case, navigation watch, escape gear (some French francs, a map of Europe on a handkerchief and a tin of Horlicks tablets) – taken from me. They did not discover my special metal trouser button, which points north when balanced on a pencil point, and was sewn to my flies!
They opened my wallet which contained only photos and asked me quite courteously (by the odd word or gesture) whether I was married. They were quite impressed at the quality of my uniform (which happened to be almost new). They also asked me whether I was a 'Jude'. I often wondered what they would have done if I had said 'yes'! After that I was put in a cell in a yard at the rear of the station.
I spent the rest of the day until the afternoon at the police station, but it was not uneventful. Firstly a French foreign worker said, through the high cell window grill, that "sept camarades sont mort". As I still had no idea what had happened to my other seven crew members, this news was not helpful to my morale. Then an attractive German girl in high leather boots was brought to the cell door and talked to me in English. I do not recall whether she was practising her English or trying her hand at interrogation but she did restore my morale! This was followed by a police officer who appeared with my cigarette case and offered me one of my own cigarettes. I indicated that he should take one also. As these cigarettes were State Express 555 (a superior brand), it was a cordial meeting! He took me out of the cell and we walked beyond the yard to a small field, where he showed me several rows of incendiary bombs laid out, all marked with ICI lot numbers – obviously from some stricken bomber.
Some time later a sandwich was brought to me wrapped in newspaper. This newspaper showed a large photograph of an American airman who had been shot down. The words 'Murder Incorporated' were painted on the back of his leather flying jacket. These words were used by the Italian Mafia in New York who were killer squads in the 1920's. The German Press had lost no time in using this photograph, with the headline 'Terrorflieger'. I wondered at the time whether or not the newspaper 'wrapper' used for my sandwich was accidental or deliberate. If deliberate I was being labled the same as the American, although the police behaved quite correctly towards me during my short stay at the police station.
It was late afternoon when I was moved from the police station in an old Ford motorcar, which belched smoke all the way to a Luftwaffe airfield to the north-east of Berlin. As we approached the airfield the police drive stopped to ask directions from two immaculately dressed Luftwaffe officers. One of them peered into the car and looking at me said, in perfect English, 'last night?' I nodded 'yes' and he said, "We are night fighters", with a grin of satisfaction all
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over his face. In a few minutes we had arrived at the guard house of Werneuchen, a night fighter airfield, one of several defending the city.
I was soon locked in a guard house cell, awaiting the next event. Not long after, I was taken to the officers' mess and paraded like a trophy in front of the commanding officer and company. The commanding officer indicated to me not to look so glum. I suppose he was thinking that 'for me the war was over' and I should be relieved that I was ok.
I was returned to the cell and the guardhouse sergeant came in and talked to me in broken English for some time. He had been a bomber pilot and had bombed London some 60 times in the latter part of 1941. I told him I was a civilian at the time, living in that part of London, but that now we were quits!
I remember that evening, they brought in a large dish of macaroni milk pudding which seemed to me like a feast, as I had had nothing (other than the rye bread sandwich), since my eggs and bacon meal before we took off on the Berlin mission.
The following morning a corporal came into the cell. He could speak good English. He said he was in the guard house as punishment for some misdemeanour, but I think he was planted to engage me in conversation. He talked about the war. He had been in the siege of Leningrad and described the hardship for everyone. He said the Russians were almost sub-human, and were eating rats. The Russian hordes would overrun Europe if they were not stopped by the Western Nations. He also said he had been educated in England and his best friend was an Englishman. I do not remember anything controversial or anything that could be construed as interrogation.
Later this day I was moved from Werneuchan with three other RAF aircrew who had been shot down, one being a wireless operator from my own squadron. We were being transferred to a Luftwaffe station at Spandau West, which involved travelling with only one Luftwaffe guard (who was armed, thankfully) on an underground train through the heart of Berlin, crowded with civilians. It was quite a worrying experience (like travelling the whole length of the Central Line in London), wondering whether they would suddenly turn into a lynch mob and start attacking us! We were extremely relieved when we arrived at Spandau West without incident.
We spent the next two nights in a bunker, as the RAF were still active in the area of Berlin. Our number increased to 16 but still no sign of any of my crew. But I met yet another chap from my squadron who had been shot down over Magdeburg (just west of Berlin) the following night to me, and who had trained with me as a navigator in Canada.
Although up till now I was relishing the sheer joy of being alive, I now began to reflect on my position. Were all my crew killed? Would my parents have been notified by now that I was missing? If so, there would be weeks of agony before they learnt I was alive and uninjured. This was a time when all of us could talk to each other and we talked our heads off about our narrow
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escapes and capture. One chap had five pieces of shrapnel removed from his back whilst we were there.
The food we received here (in the bunker) was poor and indicated the sort of rations we should expect as POWs, the rye bread almost inedible – I don't think I got used to it the whole time I was a prisoner. Several of the chaps were in need of a smoke and tried to smoke straw from the bedding, wrapped in a small piece of newspaper! They kept worrying the guards for a cigarette until one of the guards gave them one of his. I learnt later that this guard had lost both his parents in a bombing raid just a short time before . . .
After two days we were taken in a Luftwaffe bus to a railway terminus in Berlin. Our journey took us through the Tiergarten area of West Berlin, This area was the largest park in Berlin and not industrialised at all, and as such did not appear to be damaged very much. (Perhaps the guards, because of this, thought it was a good route to take). As we approached the centre, the damage was more prevalent and Bismarkstrasse had certainly taken a hammering. On arrival at the railway station, our rather large party of guards hustled us directly on to the train bound for Frankfurt am Main, for which we were very thankful, as a number of Berliners on the platform started shouting and gesticulating in a threatening manner. The train reached Frankfurt the following morning and we were taken by tram to the town of Oberursal, to Dulag Luft, the Luftwaffe interrogation centre.
Dulag Luft
On arrival we were all searched again and put in separate cells, with just our clothes and no possessions. The cells were entirely plain and featureless, with just bed, a straw filled palliasse, a chair and a small table. There was an electric wall heater, not for our benefit but for our discomfort, as it turned out.
So here I was in solitary confinement, more or less in a void after all that had happened since leaving England. There was nobody to talk to, nothing to write with, no noise, nothing to see, just your thoughts to review over and over again.
It was almost a pleasure when an apparent civilian came into the cell. Of course it was the 'Red Cross representative' we had been warned about on the Squadron. He had come in with a bogus Red Cross form to get all my details, starting with my name etc, my next of kin, and ending up with squadron details etc. I said that, under the Geneva Convention, I was only allowed to give my name, rank and number, and after some discussion he left, having offered me a cigarette, which I took. Shortly after that the electric heater came on and the cell began to get very hot, so hot in fact that I was able to smoulder a piece of straw from the palliasse to an ember (by poking it into the heater element) but not enough to light the cigarette I had been given. The overheating was another ploy to unsettle you, because you couldn't sleep or relax at all, and the temperature could reach 120F or more. The next day I was taken to an interrogator, who was very polite and civilised. He started to talk about the war and then produced a photograph of the H2S radar
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equipment I used for navigation and blind bombing runs. He asked what it was, and I said I did not know. He then tried another tack, saying that I could be a spy and they needed evidence to prove that I wasn't. I was then taken back to the cell to endure another hot day and night. During this time, the only food we got each day was just watery soup, rye bread spread with 'marg' or some sort of jam, and a drink of acorn coffee. The following day was my 21st. birthday and I was taken back to the interrogator. He started off again on me proving my identity, I still quoted my name, rank, and number, and in the end he got bored and produced a dossier of my squadron (102 Squadron), saying that it was one of their best customers. I was amazed that he had details of my squadron and I would have dearly liked to have asked him whether any of my crew were alive. It was not until after the war that I learned the Dulag Luft were able to identify squadrons by the number painted on the side of the aircraft. Obviously they were able to match the crew survivors with the close proximity of the aircraft wreckage. He was also accurate about numbers of prisoners, as 102 Squadron was the second highest squadron for numbers of POWs taken in Germany for the whole of Bomber Command. After this episode my interrogation was over, and I asked the interrogator whether I could have a shave, as it was my 21st. birthday! He arranged this for me.
I was transferred the following morning to the Dulag Transit Camp at Frankfurt am Maine and my few possessions were returned to me – except for my photographs and cigarettes which had been 'lost', and my astro-navigation watch which was confiscated under 'war regulations'. But for the watch I got an official receipt!
My interrogation period was about average, but some were in solitary confinement for many days. I can only assume that much depended on the 'intake' of prisoners. In January 1944, the losses to Bomber Command (and presumably the American Air force) were high, about 10%. Because of the increasing numbers and the limited number of cells, it may not have been possible for Dulag Luft to arrange longer periods of solitary confinement at this time.
I was overjoyed to meet John Bushell (my rear gunner) in the party transferred to the Transit Camp. John had a bad cut over is[sic] right eye, which luckily had healed up reasonably well. After we were hit, the plane had gone into a spiral dive, causing him to hit his head on his guns, so he was in a dazed state. The plane blew up near the ground, and John only survived because he was blown out and able to open his parachute in time. He landed on a searchlight battery and was taken into custody immediately. I think he was 24 hours ahead of me arriving at Dulag Luft. He told me he had met Laurie Underwood (my bomb-aimer who followed me out of the aircraft) at Spandau in West Berlin. Laurie was captured by the Wehrmacht whilst he was walking westwards through the night, away from Berlin. We also learned later that George Griffiths (our pilot) was safe, but we had no knowledge of the four remaining members of our crew. Details of George's survival and the four missing crew were not known to me until after the end of the war.
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After my experience so far, the Dulag Transit Camp indicated a substantial change that would take place in our daily lives, due to the fantastic support of the International Red Cross. Without this Organisation many would have died, or at least would have suffered ill health for the rest of their lives. We were now prisoners of war but we would not be officially registered until we were moved to the next camp (although we had been photographed already with our RAF service number).
The Transit Camp, although under the control of the Luftwaffe, was run internally by a small group of RAF officers and sergeants (all aircrew prisoners of war). There were about 200 prisoners and we stayed for two days. During this time we were given essential clothing like boots, overcoats, and, almost unbelievably, a fibre case containing many items like, socks, underclothes, sewing kit, cigarettes, tobacco, pipe, chewing gum, soap, toothbrush, razor, and even pyjamas. On baling out some had lost their flying boots and had damaged clothing. It was also winter in Germany and no-one of course had any other kit. All these items were supplied through the International Red Cross. (At this time the items we received were mainly American.)
The Camp was well stocked with Red Cross food parcels and together with the basic German rations, the 'RAF Staff' was able to produce impressive meals in the communal mess. They were almost sumptuous considering we had hardly eaten for over a week or more!
We were also able to send a postcard to our next of kin, which hopefully would get home in a month or so. I wrote:-
"My Dear Mum & Dad, I am now in Germany. You cannot write until I reach a POW camp. Please keep in touch with the Red Cross. I am unhurt and quite well. Please tell Pat I am safe. Meanwhile do not worry at all. All my love, Reg"
On departure we were each given an American Red Cross food parcel. In some ways it was sad to leave the Transit Camp after such a dramatic change in our fortunes. But the Camp was within a mile of Frankfurt's main railway station and I knew the town was due for more bombing attacks soon. In fact the Camp suffered severe damage, with some casualties, seven weeks later and had to be moved out of Frankfurt.
A large party of us were assembled and moved to the railway sidings where we were put into 'cattle trucks' (presumably old French Army trucks), marked 8 chevaux 40 hommes, although there were more than forty of us to each truck. We were now in the hands of the Wehrmacht and not the Luftwaffe. These trucks, with a few bales of straw added, were to be our living quarters for the next three days. Our fortunes had come down with a bump!
John and I had not met Laurie nor George in the Transit Camp and I can only assume that they were ahead of us and were already on their way to Stalag Luft3. I might have been with them had my commission come through on
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time. As it was, John and I were travelling together on our way to Stalag1VB, Muhlberg on Elbe, a town about 30 miles east of Leipzig and about 65 miles south of Berlin.
The journey to Stalag1VB was a nightmare. Each truck had an armed guard, standing by a partly opened door (for ventilation), but there was barely room to squat on the floor of the truck, let along room for sleeping. There was one bucket for urinating in, slopping about in the straw in the centre of the truck. And occasionally the train would stop when we were allowed out in a long line, to drop our trousers and defecate beside the rail track! Our only pleasure was to enjoy some of the contents of our first food parcel (that which didn't need a tin opener!), together with a meagre portion of German black bread.
We arrived at Neuburxdorf railway sidings near Muhlberg, although we could not see the town, and we were ushered out on to the road about a mile or so from Stalag1VB. The scene looked like Siberia. There had been a recent fall of snow which had partially thawed and there was slush everywhere. Before us was a flat desolate plain and just a blur in the distance, which was our destination.
[underlined] Stalag1VB Muhlberg on Elbe [/underlined]
The road took us through the wide open space of fields to the east end of the Camp and we marched round it to the west gate.
The Camp was constructed at the end of 1939, then mostly tented, but eventually replaced with many wooden barracks either side of a main road, some in separate compounds. Each area had a latrine to cope with 40 prisoners at one sitting! (known as 40-holers). There were various other buildings, including two cookhouses (for boiling mostly rotten potatoes etc. and producing 'skilly' – watery soup, and acorn coffee). There were showers and delousing areas, and a hospital (of sorts). Also several small compounds with solitary confinement cells to punish prisoners for breaking the rules (like trying to escape etc.) There were several water 'reservoirs', (originally for supplying water for sewerage, planned but never completed) – a large one with a windmill driving a water pump. These reservoirs were often referred to as 'swimming pools' but were now stagnant and presumably retained to be available in case of fire. Two compounds had space for sports activities and exercise (walking).
The Camp was surrounded by a double barbed wire fence with an inner trip wire (if crossed you could be shot). There were six watchtowers, one at each corner, and one each in the centre of the two longer sides.
It originally housed French and Polish POWs, but by the end of 1944 it catered for the following nationalities – Americans 473, Belgians 66, British 7578 (including about 2000 RAF), French 1335, Italians 2321, Dutch 1269, Poles 2455, Serbs 736, Slovaks 652, Russians 4292 – Totalling 21177
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Each wooden barrack was divided by a communal brick and cement-built wash and boiler house. Each end catered for up to 250 prisoners, with one inside night latrine. By 1944, as the war developed, due to the continual influx and transfer of prisoners, the barracks became dilapidated, cold and dismal, and totally overcrowded. The wooden exterior of the buildings – a dirty black/brown colour – gave a depressing effect to the whole scene, especially in the snow, slush and mud of winter.
As we approached the west gate of the Camp, we passed through the Wehrmacht administration and barrack block of our German guards, to the formidable wooden two-tower structure, with a bridge across the road painted with the sign 'M STAMMLAGER 1VB'. On the bridge there was a sentry box with a machine gun and a searchlight on top, and two patrolling guards. As we passed under the bridge, we knew that our lives were yet again going to change to an entirely new experience.
Induction to Stalag1VB
We moved into the showers and delousing block, where we were searched for the seventh time before we stripped off for a communal shower, whilst our clothing and possessions were passed through gas chambers (not lethal I hasten to say). On return of our clothing they still smelt of gas, and I found that my flying boots (almost new) were missing. They had been 'appropriated' by the German or Russian helpers and I never saw them again. Instead I got a pair of ill fitting clogs made of bits of leather upper, nailed to wooden soles. I had to clomp around in these for the next three month, in all the mud and slush, before I got a pair of army boots from the Red Cross.
After this we moved to the 'hospital block' where we were literally stabbed with blunt needles by the French medical orderlies. These were our vaccination and inoculation jabs against all the diseases that could result from poor and insufficient food, filthy conditions and overcrowding. The one disease the Germans were really afraid of was typhus, as the year before, an epidemic of typhus had wiped out many Russian prisoners who were also working amongst civilians in the fields nearby.
Now we were registered as POWs on 1st February 1944, given a Stalag1VB number and issued with our 'dog tags'. We also received two blankets apiece. Mine obviously had been used before, as they were very thin and had traces of being soiled with excreta. Whether they had been laundered or not I don't know, but they certainly had been through the gas chambers for delousing! Luckily, the one process that was spared us, was having our heads shaved like convicts. We were the first 'intake' to escape this indignity. (We might have been in fashion, come another generation or so!)
Introduction to prison life in Stalag1VB
My first memory, now inside the camp, was the trail of British prisoners collecting their weekly Red Cross food parcel (not always a full parcel and not always every week). We were also lucky, as the camp, having had British
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prisoners since August 1943, was now benefiting from an established procedure under the Geneva Convention. The International Red Cross, operating from Switzerland, were the Protecting Power (who looked after the prisoners' welfare for Britain) and dealt with the German Government, who were the Detaining Power. British prisoners were represented by an elected 'Man of Confidence', who had contact with the German Commandant about all matters arising day by day. Our Man of Confidence was a Canadian nicknamed 'Snowshoes'.
Compared with ourselves the Russian prisoners were in a terrible state. They did not have the protection of the Geneva Convention and they had no Red Cross provision or repatriation of extremely sick or wounded soldiers. Those who were not sick or limbless had to work as slave labour (arbeit kommandos) in the fields and farms nearby. They were paid in 'lagermarks' but these were relatively worthless. It was fortunate that they had the opportunity to 'trade' for bread etc. with cigarettes got from POWs and also, with various 'rackets', were able to supplement their own meagre German rations. They were almost in rags, and the limbless etc. were in a pitiful condition, reduced to begging and crawling in and out of incinerators for scraps of food remaining in tins. They were often in competition and alongside stray dogs. The German guards gave the Russians no quarter and beat them for the slightest thing. Of course Germans taken prisoner on the Russian front were in the same position as the Russians, with no Geneva Convention to protect them.
Initially we were housed with the British Army who were originally taken prisoner in North Africa before the Battle of EL Alamein. They were moved from Italian POW camps in July/August 1943 by the German Army, when the Italian front line in Italy was beginning to crumble. John Bushell and I were together and we both appreciated the steadfastness of the British Army. They had been prisoners a year or two already and were attuned to the lifestyle. They were resolute and disciplined, despite the fact that they had not been liberated in Italy, and had suffered poor treatment and lack of food under the Italians in their prison camps. As we were only eleven days out of England they wanted to know all the latest news from home.
Our first impression of the barracks was abysmal. On the right hand side were three tiers of rickety bunks in blocks of twelve, separated by a small corridor between each block. These continued up the right hand side and some over to the left hand side. In the centre at each end, there was a stove and a hotplate connected by a horizontal flue to a central chimney. On the left hand side of the flue, there were 'gim-crack' tables built up from basic wooden forms, and further forms either side for seating. In this area, 83 ft. x 40 ft., (about as long, but 7 ft. wider than my back garden) up to 250 prisoners had to live, cook, eat and sleep. The overcrowding and noise could be overwhelming especially after curfew. Clothing and personal possessions had to be stored on the bunks. The bottom bunk occupant was lucky as he had some space underneath, and the top bunk occupant did not suffer from straw and dust etc. falling down from the straw-stuffed palliasse of the bunk above! The floors were like barn floors, with bricks set in earth. Lighting was supplied
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by four 25 watt bulbs. Daylight was poor as many windows were broken and boarded up. There was a night latrine in the entrance – just a seat with a concrete cesspit underneath – which stank like hell day and night. The wash and boiler house that divided the two barracks had large concrete troughs with several spray jets that had long since ceased to function. Anyway the water supply was sporadic and it was a problem to keep the boiler full, for making communal brews during the day. Here we washed our clothes when we could and had our daily ablutions. Washes were often carried out with a 'Klim' tin of water ('Klim', the reverse of 'Milk', was the name of the Canadian milk powder it had contained). It required great skill to get an adequate wash with that amount of water! The drainage system was poor and leaked most of the time. As a result there was a constant trickle of dank water down the main road that separated most of the huts.
After three weeks the RAF contingent were transferred to the RAF compound where about 2000 (mostly aircrew) were housed. This compound was lockable and when we got too boisterous we were locked in as punishment. Here I met several chaps who were on 102 Squadron or previously were on the same training courses. Those from 102 Squadron wanted to know whether they had been reported as POWs. Of course we didn't know, because 1943 – 1944 was a bad time for losses, and we were missing and in Germany, before they were reported, at home, as POWs.
Our lives revolved around food and keeping warm
There is no doubt these primary requirements of life are paramount in a prison camp. Under the Geneva Convention only basic provisions were supplied by Germany. We were not required to work (being officers or non-commissioned officers), thus food rations were the bare minimum and often of poor quality. The International Red Cross were the organisation to supplement the needs of prisoners of war. Operating from Geneva it co-ordinated the supply of goods and distributed them to Working Parties, Stalags and Oflags, throughout Germany. The supply was mainly food, but clothing, books, musical instruments, even correspondence courses for professional exams, were organised for some camps. Supplies were often erratic, governed by the war situation. It was obviously not the first priority in the German distribution system, especially as the war progressed, when their transport infrastructure was virtually destroyed by the RAF and the American Air Force.
The daily ration issued by the Germans consisted of about three boiled potatoes (often nearly rotten after months stored in clamps), and a ladle of watery soup (called 'skilly') made with turnips, swede, millet, barley, dried sauerkraut, or peas. These were issued at midday in skilly buckets, from the cookhouse. (There were two cookhouses one British, the other French which also catered for other nationals). The pea soup was the most desirable skilly, and many rows broke out on how the small leftover should be divided. Each barrack had an elected leader and two or three colleagues to assist him in making minor decisions and sharing out any communal chores – the pea soup share out was one of his problems. In our barracks, after a vote by everybody.
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it was decided that the leftover should be shared out equally, pea by pea if necessary!
In the afternoon, a piece of black bread, about an inch or so thick, a small piece of margarine and a spoonful of jam (made from beetroot); sugar or meat paste completed the hard rations. Several pails of ersatz coffee (made from roasted acorns) were usually put into the washhouse boiler for a hot drink later.
The Red Cross food parcel was based on the requirements of one person for a week. The parcels came from various countries, Britain (including Scotland), America, Canada, New Zealand, Argentine (bulk rations), and sometimes France or Belgium. A British parcel contained a number of the following: tin of condensed milk, 2oz tea, tin of cocoa, 4oz sugar, 8oz margarine, tin of biscuits, 8oz jam, marmalade or syrup, 2oz processed cheese, pkt dried fruit or tin of fruit pudding or creamed rice, rolled oats or oatmeal, tin of meat & veg, steak & kidney pudding or other varieties, tin of sausages or meat roll, sometimes a tin of bacon or Yorkshire pudding (instead of cocoa), tin of egg powder, sometimes a carton of sweets, 4oz bar of chocolate, tin of veg (peas, carrots etc.), tin of salmon or pilchards, bar of soap, sometimes pkt of salt, pepper, or mustard. American parcels and some others contained cigarettes, but alternatively there was a separate issue of 50 cigarettes a week if whole parcels were issued. But it could be only 25 a week or none, according to the availability of parcels. (Cigarettes were used throughout the camp as the main currency for trading and racketeering!)
Together, the German ration and a full parcel every week was Utopia for us. Of course there were weeks when we had only half parcels – or no parcels – when distribution was disrupted for a variety of reasons. So 'tinned stuff' had to be saved for hungry times. Most prisoners joined together in two's or more to share and prepare their food. The term for this was 'mucking in' and groups were called 'muckers'. John Bushell and I became 'muckers' and decided that we would prepare our food together everyday.
On arrival we were given a dixie and spoon each, not much for preparing food, cooking, eating and drinking. We had to acquire knives, drinking cups and plates etc. to start up, which we got with cigarettes from fellow 'kriegies' (established prisoners of war). The kriegies would have got the knives from the Russians, the cups and plates would have been made from Red Cross tins by a kriegie skilled in 'tin bashing'. Cups were Canadian 'Maple Leaf' butter tins with a handle made from a strip of tin attached to another strip, which was clamped to the top and bottom of the butter tin. Plates and dishes for heating or frying food, were made from flattened out Scotch biscuit tins turned up at the sides and the corners folded in. Scotch biscuit tins were ideal for all sorts of things, I don't know what we would have done without them!
The cooking stoves, one at each end of the barracks, were controlled by two stokers. The ovens were not used and only the hot plates were in action. Coal dust (compressed into briquettes) used for cooking and strictly rationed for each barrack, meant that the stoves would only operate at lunch time. The
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remainder of the briquettes were allocated to the washhouse, for use in the boiler for 'brewing up' during the day. Because the briquettes were rationed and were under the supervision of the guards, several attempts were made by various barracks to get more by false pretences. One barrack managed to get a spare set of keys to the briquettes store and organised a parade. By marching specially, with their familiar plywood Red Cross container, as if under the control of the guards, they got another issue. But I don't think they managed it twice! Our barrack was luckier in this respect. There was a German Jew in our barrack whose family left Germany before the war. He became a naturalised British subject, joined RAF ground crew and became a member of an Advanced Airfield Unit and was posted to the Island of Kos. He became at POW after the Germans invaded the Island in October 1943 and he was moved to Muhlberg. He could speak fluent German and was able to bribe two of the guards (who, with dogs, patrolled the camp after curfew) to stay away on certain nights from patrolling the French cookhouse. This cookhouse, adjacent to our compound and opposite our barracks, had a large store of briquettes in the cellar which could be accessed by cutting the barbed wire between our compound and the cookhouse. A group of volunteers in the barracks 'stood by' for these arrangements, and when the barrack leader announced, in true RAF parlance, "Ops on tonight", there was great activity.
Prior to the first of these operations, the floor bricks had been removed from under one of the bunks. A pit had been dug and covered up with a false floor made of plywood from Red Cross packing cases. The removed floor bricks were then put back on the plywood, and earth spread in between the bricks. In the gloom of the barracks it was almost impossible to detect any disturbance in the brick floor.
On 'Ops' night, the pit was opened up, kit bags were borrowed and half the night, kitbags full of briquettes removed from the cookhouse cellar, were unloaded almost silently into the pit. Well before daylight the barbed wire was reconnected, the floor and bricks replaced and everybody involved, back in their bunks. The pit, which also housed other things that needed to be hidden, was never discovered, despite many random searches that were carried out. This activity was carried out every few weeks and meant that we were the most 'well provided for' barracks for cooking and the warmest in the whole camp, until the autumn of 1944.
Back to cooking, the stokers maintained strict control over the hot plates so that everyone had an opportunity to heat, boil or fry their food either in the tin, dixie or dish, by moving them in progression across the hottest part of the hot plate. Nevertheless there were accidents, when dishes caught fire and tins exploded (many of the contents like creamed rice hit the roof above!), or food was cremated as the hot plate suddenly went red hot in one spot. BRC bacon when frying could spit hot fat everywhere and those near the stove had to dive for cover!
John and I, like most 'muckers', tried to add as much variety as possible to our meals. We would save barley soup for breakfast and convert it into porridge by adding sugar, or as a pudding at tea time, by adding dried fruit
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etc. Biscuits could be crumbled and mixed with various things. Sometimes our meagre almost inedible bread ration would be mixed with fruit, meat or fish items to make more acceptable bulk. Most of the 'skilly' (soup items), turnip, swede, or millet (bird seed), we consumed straight away, especially if we were hungry. During the period of receiving a weekly full parcel, most of the skilly and some of the dry rations were given to the Russian amputees and later, to the Italians.
Heating water for tea and coffee was difficult. The Army kriegies from the Italian prison camps brought with them a design of a water heater called a 'blower'. It was a fan operated device which, by means of a belt driving the fan at high speed, forced air into a firebox. The firebox was filled with anything burnable (pine cones, chips of wood and cardboard) and a dixie of water placed on top would be boiling in a few minutes. 'Blowers' were made from Red Cross food tins and plywood, mounted on a bed board taken from a bunk. They were hazardous devices and confined to the wash house. Unfortunately the guards did not approve of these contraptions and they frequently destroyed them. In a short time more were made, and then there were even fewer bed boards to some of the bunks!
The more organised way of providing hot drinks, an essential requirement in cold, draughty and damp huts, was to use the boiler in the wash house for communal brews. It was agreed that the issue of ersatz coffee would be reheated this way, and everybody would give up some of their tea, coffee and cocoa ration for regular hot drinks. The boiler-man would shout out "brew up" six or seven times a day and bodies would appear from bunks and everywhere with mugs and dixies for their ration.
Camp roll call ('Appel')
Everyday at 6.30 a.m. the camp was awakened by guards running through the hut shouting "rouse, rouse", and in quick time we had to dress and form up in rows of 'fumf's' (fives), barrack by barrack in the compound. Whilst the Army in their compounds, who were well disciplined, had their count finished in no-time, the RAF were always late and virtually had to be driven out of their barracks. The guards regularly found stragglers still asleep in their bunks, or they were not all lined up in fives. The German unteroffizier in charge (a relatively young guard who had been wounded on the Russian Front, nicknamed 'Blondie' for his flaxen hair), was often at his wit's end. As a result of these events day after day, Blondie would keep the offending barrack standing for hours in the slush and the snow. On one occasion, a member of another barrack brought out a chair for Blondie to sit on whilst this punishment was in progress, which he took in good part. But when, in another situation he drew his pistol, it was time to call this game to an end!
Although roll call was always at 6.30 in the morning, curfew was later in the summer months, up to 9.30 p.m., which made life much more pleasant as it shortened the time we were incarcerated in the huts.
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Not long after I reached the camp, it was probably towards the end of winter, typhus and diptheria broke out and the whole camp was quarantined. Typhus was to be expected at any time. It usually affected the Russians but it could break out anywhere. I can recall being bitten all over my body with bed bugs. Our palliasses were never replaced and were pretty filthy sacks of straw. Living in such overcrowded conditions, lice, fleas, and bedbugs abounded. It was one of the most depressing times I can remember.
Quarantine meant that there was no roll call in the compound. No-one was allowed outside the barracks for about a month, and this was enforced by having an armed guard posted outside each barrack entrance. Supplies were brought to the barracks and there was only the inside latrine to serve 200 or more of us, day and night.
The Honey Cart
When the camp was first built, a sewer system was planned to take the sewage to the river Elbe some miles away. Camp reservoirs were dug to provide the water supply. This plan was soon abandoned, and latrines with concrete septic tanks installed instead. Each barrack had an inside night latrine and to each compound, one or more forty-seater day latrine buildings were added. Inside these there were four rows of boxed seats, each with ten holes, mounted above a large tank. No-one felt alone in a forty-holer!
With more than 20,000 prisoners, the removal of the sewage was a permanent daily task for a small 'army' of the Russian Kommandos. Through a trap door on the ground outside the latrine a long pipe connected to a hand pump was inserted into the decomposed sewage. With every operation of the pump lever, decomposed sewage was squirted into the hopper of a long wooden barrel which was mounted on an ox-cart. The whole design could have been invented in medieval times and was about as labour intensive as in those days. It generated the most foul stench with every pump movement and was christened 'the honey cart'.
Many honey carts were in action daily all over the camp. They leaked and left their signature everywhere, in a trail on their way out of the main gate to the local fields, where they fertilized the crops. Some of the inferior crops we might consume in our skilly in a few months' time!
In my view the condition of the latrines and inadequate method of sewage disposal for over 20,000 prisoners, was beyond belief. The German nation, known for its discipline, thoroughness and cleanliness, had at that time a blot on its character in the way it dealt with prisoners of war in Stalag 1VB – and probably other camps as well.
There was also no provision for toilet paper and we had to resort to all sorts of solutions, Red Cross tin labels and reading books had to be sacrificed. On one occasion after a Red Cross inspection, when we complained about the lack of toilet paper, we did receive some 'toilet paper' from the Germans, in the form of propaganda booklets printed in English. One entitled 'Jews Must
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Live' and the other 'The Who's Who of Jews', which listed all the prominent people in the western world and whether they were Jews or not, including Churchill (who was not listed as a Jew).
Activities in Stalag1VB
With over 7500 British prisoners, there were many talented people – and those who discovered they had talents – in the camp. Some lectured on their subjects in a small hut set aside as a class room; others were actors or musicians (mostly amateur I believe) who produced fantastic shows in a theatre and in the barracks. And then there were the footballers, cricketers and rugby players, who played on pitches available in one of two compounds.
Studies
There was no facility to study for professional exams, mainly I believe, because the British had come to the camp only months before and there was no opportunity to set up a facility at this stage of the war. Also the overcrowding in the barracks made it impossible for serious study, due to the lack of space, and the noise of cooking, washing and general chatter etc. This was made worse in the winter months, because of the extended length of time we were herded together between curfew at night and morning roll call.
I did manage to study several subjects, mainly to keep my mind occupied on matters of general interest to me. These were radio, intermediate maths, photography and psychology. The latter two closed down shortly afterwards, due the removal of the classroom (that is another story!) The lecturer on radio communications was an interesting person, (Robert Crawford), whom I met when I was in the army barracks. He was a BBC engineer in the army and his roll was to assist a well known BBC war reporter, named Ward. In those days, recording events for subsequent broadcasting, especially in front line conditions, needed a qualified engineer to make the records. Ward and Crawford were captured in North Africa at Tobruk in June 1942. Crawford taught me a lot about basic radio and was obviously quite involved in the construction of radios for the camp. There was always some route for getting supplies of essential parts. He told me they were worried that the camp might be overrun by the Russians, before Western Allied Forces could get here, and we might need to be able to communicate with our Allies to get urgent assistance. To prepare for such an event they had built a transmitter, and had already selected a site for it. They had also acquired a starter motor from a Messerschmitt 'plane to generate the power for it! (Fortunately, in the end, events did not require such action).
Theatre
It was generally accepted that the camp theatre was a remarkable achievement. It provided first class entertainment and raised morale for everyone in the camp. A spare barrack was found for the purpose. The brick
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floor was dug out and the bricks replaced in tiers for the seating, so that the stage could be seen by everyone. A dimmer switch was acquired for better control of stage lighting.
The theatre group was in operation before I arrived and was now in full swing. With food parcels arriving more regularly, and the longer and warmer days of spring and summer ahead, our daily lives became more bearable in the dim, dismal, damp and dilapidated surroundings of the camp. The Second Front was expected soon and with an early prospect to the end of the war, spirits were high. This reflected in the energies of the theatre group, both in variety shows and straight plays, and the appreciation of the audiences.
My first 'visit to the theatre', named the 'Empire', was only a few days after I arrived. The ticket was purchased with cigarettes, but I can't remember how many. It was a variety show entitled 'Muhlberg Melodies of 1944' a totally internally written production. The female impersonations were fantastic, impressing seasoned kriegies and especially me, a newcomber to camp life. The theatre 'props' were wizards at making costumes from old blankets etc., stage scenery and furniture from Red Cross boxes and plywood crates. Even the production of suits of armour was not beyond them. The 'tin bashers' got busy with Red Cross tins, and by clever lighting with green tinted bulbs, were able to produce very realistic results.
The variety group produced several shows, some with leading camp comics, like 'Music in the Cage', 'Lets Raes a Laugh', Knee-deep' and 'Splash'. Musical Comedies such as 'Springtime for Jennifer' with lyrics and music both written by the leader of the orchestra. The variety shows were alternated with straight plays presented by 'The Cads'. Each one seemed better than the previous production. Such shows were 'Dover Road', 'The Man Who Came to Dinner', 'You Can't Take It With You' and 'The Barretts of Wimpole Street'.
There were light classical orchestras and more serious music, also dance and swing band shows. The latter participated in shows in the barracks providing suitable music. At leading football matches, boxing bouts and on Sunday afternoons a military band provided entertainment.
On some Sundays in the Empire, the Experimental Theatre Group presented some unusual plays based on melodrama and plays requiring 'audience participation'. One I remember called 'Waiting for Lefty' (about rebellious cab drivers) was highly successful. In this play the audience, together with members of the cast (who, unknown to us, were 'planted' amongst the audience) got involved in a trade union strike. It resulted in the whole audience, quite spontaneously, standing up and shouting 'Strike, Strike!' and 'Lefty' the ring leader being shot dead!
Also on Sundays, church services were held in the theatre, and the Padre (a New Zealander) organised entertainment and talks on some Sunday afternoons.
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Another organised event that the theatre was used for was a remarkable exhibition of pendulum clocks. I presume pendulum clocks were chosen because they operated by weights and not springs. All these clocks were constructed from flattened Red Cross food tins, which were cut into the various gears and other parts necessary to produce and display the correct time.
Barrack (hut) entertainment
Hut shows were very popular and were introduced in the evening in the summer months when curfew was extended. Stage sets were erected from the hut seating and structures brought in for the purpose. Such industry gave a feeling of involvement and this added to the enjoyment of the show that followed. Radio plays were very novel, being performed behind a curtain and in broadcasting style with all the sound effects. With the rest of the hut in semi-darkness (not difficult in a poorly lit hut) the right atmosphere was achieved, for such plays as 'The Tale of Two Cities', 'Ghost Train' and 'Pygmalion'.
On other winter evenings a series of talks were given on such subjects as 'Big Game Hunting', 'North West Frontier' and 'Russia'. Chaps with personal experiences such as 'HM Prisons' by an ex Prison Warder, an interesting one for us Kreigies! And a talk by a former Undertaker on some of his more gruesome situations. We also had two demonstrations of hypnotism, one by a Dutch therapist who practised in an Indonesian hospital, and another who did it purely for entertainment and sent us into fits of laughter, when he got one of the audience who knew nothing about the subject, to give us a talk on 'how to paint and decorate a room'. But the most impressive demonstration of all was when two Fakirs from the Indian Army demonstrated the results of self hypnosis. They reduced their heart beats until when cut they did not bleed, then over their stomachs they pinched two thick folds of skin and pierced them with spikes. When they pulled the spikes out there was no trace of bleeding. Their second demonstration was even more amazing. They broke glass bottles on the floor and when there was enough broken glass, one laid on it, back down, and the other stood momentarily on his chest. You could hear the crunch of glass under his back! Again when he got up there was no trace of bleeding.
Another popular activity in the winter months was playing cards. This was mostly contract bridge, a game I learned to play. It became an obsession for some partners and was played almost uninterrupted all day and sometimes into the night, only stopping to eat! This was possible with the larger groups of 'muckers', as cooking etc and playing cards, was shared on a rota basis.
Sport
The most active and universal sport in the camp was soccer and this was carried on throughout the day, but mostly in the evening during the summer months. I understood that football equipment was brought from Italy by the
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Army POWs. Each hut had its own team named after the 1st. Division names in Britain. Our hut's team was Blackburn Rovers and the degree of interest was amazing. Our team had its own colours and was well supported by the hut inmates. When we played in the League matches discussion reached tremendous heights. I think the knock-out cup was the most exciting of all. Semi-finals and final games were played off on Saturday afternoons as it was the main feature of the weekend. Newport County was by far the leading light in this competition and eventually won the Cup. At Easter, Whitsun and August Bank Holiday there gala matches such as England versus Scotland, Army v RAF, Amateurs v Professionals. The standard of play was very high indeed, and teams selected from several thousand possible players gave a good account of themselves. Other feature matches were introduced when a number of 'Clubs' were formed for chaps living in the same area, such examples were 'London Club', 'Heather Club', 'Notts & Derby Club', 'Kent Club', 'Invicta Club' and 'Lincolnshire Poacher'. All the clubs had badges, made by Russians, out of aluminium dixies and the clubs advertised their activities on wall posters. The Germans panicked when they saw the 'Lincolnshire Poacher' and issued a general warning that anyone caught poaching could risk being shot!
Other sporting activities
There was a Rugby League and they played their important games on Sundays. Perhaps the most notable members were the 'Springboks' and the 'Anzacs', and many a time blood was drawn between these two hefty teams.
During the cricket season, each hut entered a team and the matches were played off on similar lines to soccer and rugby, the main feature being a test match played between England v Australia or South Africa, over the weekend. Some of these were very close ending matches, England on one occasion beating Australia by a few runs only.
Two athletic matches were held and prior to the events, every morning and evening contestants could be seen on the track training with great zeal. (The track was the perimeter of the football pitch, an area many kreigies used every day to walk round for general exercise). Boxing also was a camp-organised sport and several times exhibitions, as well as competitive bouts, were carried out in a well built ring in one of the compounds.
The Canadians were very keen on basketball and softball, whilst vollyball was played by one and all. Others took up weight lifting and organised P.T. Many of the games were between the British and other Nationals such as the French, Dutch, Russians and Poles; the latter two excelled at volley ball, the former had a tough struggle when playing us at soccer - after all it was our national game (in those days).
There was no lack of exercise at 1VB. The outdoor activity during the summer months, coupled with a good supply of Red Cross food parcels and encouraging news on the war front, kept us all in good spirits at that time. But of course all this was no compensation for the abysmal living conditions and
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the lack of freedom we all experienced, especially when you are only in your early twenties.
Trading
I have already mentioned that NCO's were not paid any service pay in prison camps. The Russian working parties were paid lagermarks, but these were relatively worthless. There was a Russian canteen where items could be purchased but there was relatively nothing to buy. But items could be exchanged or bought and sold with cigarettes. Thus cigarettes became the camp currency and its liquidity. There was a rate that depended upon the amount of spare Red Cross food that was available, compared with how plentiful were the Red Cross cigarettes and cigarettes received in private parcels. In the summer of 1944 spare food was more plentiful, thus the cigarette rate was low – in the winter the position was reversed. The Russian canteen became the flea market (in more ways than one) where anything could be bought and sold or exchanged. The Italians, who became prisoners with their complete kit of clothes and utensils, were seriously short of food and were able to sell clothing, knives, scissors etc. for basic food. They even took on tailoring jobs for food and cigarettes. The Russians were in the best positions to trade because they were able to contact the farm workers in the fields and farms, exchange cigarettes and coffee for bread and small items necessary for day to day living. They would conceal these in their trousers, not very hygienic for the bread! I understand that the Russians who worked on the 'honeycarts' were able to hide bread in the opening of the 'honeycard' barrel (when they were empty!), on their way back to camp.
An event that I witnessed one evening not long before curfew: a British chap had filled an empty cigarette packet with earth, except for ten cigarette stubs at the end, to represent a full packet. He then, in the half-light through the wire of the Russian compound, exchanged it for a long loaf of crusty bread. Back in the hut he was full of his success in duping the Russian, until he discovered the side of the loaf had been sliced off, the whole of the inside hollowed out and filled with damp rags to give the loaf weight, and the side cleverly replaced with thin spills of wood to hold it in place! I often wonder who had the better deal . . .
On some evenings, the same RAF (German Jewish) POW who organised the coal stealing from the French cookhouse, would bring into the hut a German guard complete with rifle, who was on patrol inside the camp. The guard would stand in the middle of the hut whilst the gasmask case on his back (now minus its gasmask) was opened. Inside he had toothbrushes, razors, razor blades, combs etc. to trade for cigarettes, coffee and chocolate. Not every German soldier was waging war to the death!
I also remember a Dutch POW, still resplendent in his uniform with tassels and gold braid. The Dutch, until the Second Front, were well served with IRC food and parcels from home. This chap obviously, like many Dutch very commercially minded, used to appear regularly in the huts carrying a large tray of goods which he was trading for cigarettes.
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Escaping
Planning to escape was a very clandestine business, and unless you were personally involved you didn't know much about it. However there was an escape committee who would assist those who wished to 'have a go'.
There was one mass escape planned in the camp by the RAF and from the RAF compound. It was a very close kept secret, only known to those involved. A hut used as a 'school' for various classes was chosen. This hut was without foundations and raised on blocks. Also it was only a short distance from the camp boundary barbed wire on the north side. The first move was to ask the Germans for permission for us to put a mound of earth around the perimeter of the hut "to prevent footballs etc. from being kicked underneath it." A hatch was then cut into the floor of one of the classrooms, from which a tunnel was dug to the outer wire. The earth dug out was packed tightly, into the now enclosed space, below the hut. As the distance from the hut to the field outside the wire was fairly short, the space was sufficient, and did not need a complicated system of distributing the earth elsewhere. Also concealment was less complicated as classes were still being carried out in other rooms as before. I for one, who attended classes there, did not know what was going on and neither did the Germans. Bed-boards were used to shore up the sides of the tunnel and the hut wiring was tapped for lighting it. The bed-boards would have been taken bit by bit from bunks in various barracks. As boards were already being consumed as firewood, or for blowers etc., it was almost accepted that this was the natural erosion of the place. Although, for those who slept in the middle and lower bunks, more and more loops of palliasse were hanging down between bed-boards from the upper bunk.
The tunnel was completed in late summer, and the day before the planned night breakout, a tractor towing a harvester, cropping the corn in this field, tipped into the tunnel exit which was just below the level of the field. Immediately all hell broke loose as Feldwebel 'Piccolo Pete' our new German compound watchdog, appeared on the scene. Piccolo Pete was a nasty, small, bow legged fellow, who took over after Blondie was posted elsewhere. He consistently made our lives a misery, making raids on our barracks without warning. He would appear with guards to block each end of the hut. We would then be searched and driven out immediately into the compound, while he and his posse of guards turned over the bunks and prodded the floor and everywhere with picks, looking for signs of tunnels, escape material, blowers, radios etc.
Well, Piccolo Pete was in his element. The following morning, he turned up with the Russians and their cavalcade of honey carts, and they emptied our latrines and forty-holer of sewage and poured it into the tunnel. Of course classes were closed at the hut and we never went near it again!
Another means of escape, usually through our own Escape Committee and sometimes with the help of the French Escape Committee, was achieved by exchanging identity with other prisoners who were on working parties. These
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were usually army privates who, under the Geneva Convention, could be employed by the Germans in non war related industries. These industries around 1VB would be mostly in farming. New British POWs were often 'processed' through 1VB, as it was also a registration camp and where new prisoners could be topped up with essential clothing. These prisoners would be approached by the Escape Committee and offered exchanges. They would have the benefit of not having to work and the NCO's would have the chance to escape, which would be less risky than trying to escape from 'behind the wire' at 1VB. Both parties would of course lose their own identities during this time.
All those in 1VB who took this on, were given new identity papers, forged passes, travel documents, maps and money etc. In my view they would have needed, as a minimum, a good knowledge of German and know how to live rough, as they would be hundreds of miles away from any territory where they could expect help from anyone. To my knowledge nearly all those in 1VB who escaped were recaptured, returned to the camp, and given 14 days or more solitary confinement in the 'cooler' on basic rations. One chap who gave us a talk on his experiences, on having reached a railway siding, found that none of the railway wagons had destinations for his chosen route. But with a bit of quick thinking, he decided it would help the British war effort if he collected all the destination cards from the wagons, gave them a thorough shuffle, and put them all back!
Geoff Taylor who wrote the book 'Piece of Cake' about prison life in 1VB, tells his story about attempting an escape by stealing a JU88 'plane from Lonnewitz nightfighter training airfield near 1VB. He and a colleague used the French and British escape committees to do an exchange with two French arbeit kommandos. They got on to the airfield and into a JU88, only to be caught red handed by a Luftwaffe guard. Luckily they were wearing French uniform and Geoff's colleague answered the challenge in French. The guard, thinking they were French farm workers from a nearby village, chastened them and told them to clear off, which they did at a rate of knots! After some time trying to find another aircraft that wasn't locked, and then running out of food, they walked back into the camp with hardly a challenge.
After the murder (on the orders of Hitler) of fifty RAF escapees from Stalag Luft3 in March 1944 became known, the Germans gave out an official warning to all camps. It said that because of increasing action of commando forces in Germany, many places were 'no go' areas and anyone entering them would be shot on sight. Escaping prisoners were at risk, and to remember "escaping was no longer a British sport".
About the same time, a message was received from the British Government via the BBC news, which said it was no longer the duty of prisoners of war to try to escape(!)
Our mail and news in Stalag1VB
Mail
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We were allowed to write one letter and two postcards a month, so I had to ration them between family and friends over the 15 months I was a prisoner. But I received 111 letters and about 6 or 7 parcels over the period. Everybody moaned in the hut every time my name and number (098 Wilson) was called out – 'what, not him again!'
Letters to UK and from Germany took 2 1/2 to 3 months each way, so a reply could take almost 6 months. The first letter I received after being shot down took 5 months, and the first letter from my parents took 6 months. Mail arrived fairly consistently after that, 43 by September 1944, 110 by January 1945 and then only one, before I was liberated in April 1945.
My first parcel took 7 months to reach me. It was from home and contained 500 cigarettes – a fortune either as cigarettes or currency. My second and third contained books – fiction, biographies, technical drawing and – travel! My fourth, from home, contained clothing. Two previous parcels had been sent but never received. I had two further parcels of cigarettes and, I believe, some chocolate.
I also received a parcel of books from the Red Cross in which they had sent two books I had asked for, one on meteorology and the other on astronomy. I remember that I found great interest in the astronomy book. Stalag 1VB being located away from the town in flat countryside, with no lights on late in the evening, presented an ideal situation for viewing the night sky, even through the few windows available. With my knowledge of the star constellations in the northern hemisphere, required for astro-navigational purposes, I was able to identify the only star city outside our own galaxy visible to the naked eye – the nebula in Andromeda near the constellation of Cassiopeia in the north-eastern sky. It gave me a great feeling of space and freedom away from my dismal surroundings.
In my first letter home from Stalag 1VB on 2 February 1944, I told my parents that our 'plane had caught fire and I had to bale out. (I did not say how or where, as this might have stopped the German censors from sending the letter on). I also told them John Bushell was with me. We knew that Laurie Underwood and George Griffiths had survived but there was no news of the others. I asked them to send me underclothes, socks, toothpaste, cigarettes, and photographs.
My letters started with mixed emotions – I was glad I had survived and without injury. Also at that time we were receiving weekly food parcels and the camp was providing entertainment with fairly frequent shows in the Empire theatre. But the winter weather was miserable with slush and mud everywhere, and with only lashed-up clogs to wear, there was no incentive to walk round the circuit of the 'football pitch'. Being incarcerated in these barracks during the long winter days was punishment indeed. Writing letters without receiving any in return, became a burden, and it was not until I received my first letter in June did I brighten up. By then the Second Front had commenced, the days were longer, sunny and warm, outside activities had started, and the parcels
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were still arriving weekly. As the D Day invasion succeeded, a wave of optimism swept the camp. 'Home by Christmas' was the cry. Of course we were young kriegies and did not realise that old kriegies had made this cry for the last three or four years already!
As the year advanced, France was liberated, Italy had capitulated, everybody was at their high point and our letters home reflected this mood. But the success of the war on the ground and in the air across Europe, was having its effect on the German transport system, and our RC food parcel deliveries started to become irregular. Setbacks, at Arnhem in Holland and the Battle of the Bulge in Belgium, ensured that the war would continue into the Spring of 1945 and would make worse our conditions in the prison camp.
In the autumn and winter of 1944 parcels were reduced to a half and some weeks there were none. Coal for heating and cooking was reduced and as more prisoners came into the camp it became excessively overcrowded. My letters did not mention this, and said our Christmas was fine with a RC parcel out of the blue, which enabled us to dodge up some kind of festivities with concocted mince pies (don't ask!) and Christmas pudding. Although we were able to organise 'a dance' for New Year's Day, we entered January 1945 with the worst conditions we had experienced so far in 1VB.
News
News about the progress of the war was the very life blood of every prisoner. As the war moved towards its end, events around us began to coincide with the news we received.
We were lucky in 1VB inasmuch as the Army chaps had managed to bring their radios (in pieces) from Italy, concealed down their trousers, between their legs etc.! The RAF had managed to bribe the guards for parts to assemble their radio. So both compounds had radios and were able to get BBC news everyday. Despite random searches by Picolo Pete and others, they were never discovered.
The news was taken down in shorthand and transcribed so that every barrack leader could read it out after evening curfew. The leader would call for lookouts to see the outside was clear of roving patrols and the hut would remain in complete silence whilst the bulletin was read out. Thus throughout our time in 1VB we were well informed about events, except on D Day when the Germans told us first! That day everyone went wild. Many were making crazy forecasts about the date when the war would end, and when it didn't, they were unceremoniously carried to the stagnant reservoir and thrown in.
About this time Italy capitulated, but Germany continued to fight in Italy. The Italian Army, overnight became POWs and several thousand of them arrived at the camp complete with all their kit. They were in a terrible state, as the Italians were despised by every nation. Italy had declared war on England when we were 'on our knees' after Dunkirk; thus they were also enemies of Russia and all occupied nations. Now they were enemies of Germany. And
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the British Army POWs in 1VB, not long ago treated abysmally as POWs of the Italians, didn't think much of them either. They were soon starving, with poor rations, trading their kit for food, begging alongside the Russian amputees for surplus skilly and scraps.
In addition to the news we got from the radio, the Germans supplied a weekly newspaper called 'The Camp'. I do not know how many they distributed but I managed to keep three copies. These did not really supplement the BBC news, as they were a week or so out of date and were really propaganda papers. Their war reports never mentioned Allied successes. They printed lots of bland articles taken from recent British newspapers and football league results. Their leader articles were loaded with propaganda. However the 30 July 1944 edition was interesting, as it covered the 20 July bomb plot to kill Hitler. It showed a picture of Hitler, apparently uninjured after the attempt on his life, talking to Mussolini. It announced [italics] "that the plot by a criminal clique of German Officers had completely collapsed. The ringleaders either committed suicide after the outrage or were shot by battalions of the army. Among those executed was the manipulator of the explosive, Col. Count von Stauffenberg” [/italics]. Incidently [sic] he is now remembered as a hero by the German nation and a street in Berlin is named after him: "Stauffenbergstrasse".
This edition of The Camp also featured the launching of the V1 (flying bomb) weapons on London. These were followed by the V2 rockets and continued from their launching sites in Holland, mostly on the London area and Antwerp (a major Port for the British and Canadian armies on the North European Front), almost until the end the war. These weapons were totally indiscriminate and some fell in Essex, many of them in the Ilford/Romford area where my parents lived. One V2 fell in the road next to Joydon Drive, wiping out half-a-dozen houses and their occupants. Luckily my parents and two sisters had evacuated to Brighton during this onslaught. But our house was damaged and had to be patched up until after the war, when it was repaired. All this was unknown to me as my parents would not have mentioned it, and in any case mail might have been lost or arrived too late for me to receive it.
There was heavy fighting in Normandy after D Day and the German press made the most of it. At Caen, the first major city, the British and the Canadians suffered very heavy casualties, and the Americans on the Cherbourg Peninsular were held up for a time capturing the Port of Cherbourg. It was about five weeks before Caen fell, and the city was almost demolished by Bomber Command. But the fighting drew in much of the German armour. At this time the American forces made great headway in the Cherbourg Peninsular, swept around Caen to Fallaise to form a pincer movement. The Germans realising they could be trapped, started to withdraw their tanks, through what became to be known as the 'Fallaise Gap'. The RAF with their rocket firing Typhoon fighter bombers had a heyday destroying both troops and tanks. Eventually the Germans discarded much of their equipment and went helter-skelter to cross the river Seine to avoid capture. At this time the landing of Allied troops in Southern France had taken place and the Germans had decided to evacuate their troops from France.
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The German 7th Army was smashed at Fallaise with a loss of 250,000 troops (killed or captured), although a similar number managed to get away. Soon after, an uprising took place in Paris and the city was liberated by the French Second Armoured Division on the 25 August 1944, almost without damage. By 3 & 4 Sept 1944 the Allies had entered Belgium and Holland, and most of France was clear. We had followed all this news on the BBC throughout this time, and the camp was in high spirits.
Now aerial activity was recommencing over Germany. (The bombing of Berlin, Leipzig and other cities during the winter months had been suspended so that Bomber Command could assist with the Second Front. They were now released from this activity and night bombing restarted). Airfields were opened up in France and fighter and fighter bomber squadrons, British and American, moved to them. American Mustangs were fitted with auxillary [sic] fuel tanks and were able to support the squadrons of their Flying Fortresses all the way to Berlin and further east. Now, in the height of summer, we were able to see these raids at 30-40,000 feet, as hundreds of glinting specks in the sunlight and streaks of contrails in the sky. From now on the Allied air forces controlled the sky. Both strategic and industrial German cities were bombed night and day and their roads and railways were under attack from dawn until dusk.
In August 1944 on the Eastern Front the Russians were advancing on Warsaw. The Polish patriots believing that the Russians would come to their aid started an uprising in Warsaw. The patriots were not of the same 'political faith' as Stalin, and the Russian forces were ordered to hold off. Not only did the Russians hold off, they refused to allow the RAF to refuel in Russian territory and thus prevented them from dropping supplies to the Poles. The uprising lasted into September. The German SS and the German Ukrainian army perpetrated terrible atrocities in Warsaw, murdering thousands of civilians including women and children. As they murdered them they burnt their areas of the city to the ground. Eventually the whole city was virtually destroyed.
Sometime in late October or November a long column of young Polish women and children from Warsaw reached our camp and were housed in the transit compound adjacent to the RAF compound. They were in a terrible condition. These young people, many boys of 7 or 8 and girls of 16 years of age upwards, caught up in the patriot uprising, were serving as nurses, runners etc. They had been 'taken prisoner' and brought here by cattle truck and by marching westwards. They had no food or spare clothing and were desperate for help. The transit compound was filthy, dilapidated, and with few latrines. It was almost unbelievable that the Germans could treat them as they did. Most of the nationalities in the camp spent endless time along the wire between the compounds, looking at these young women who despite their condition were cheerful and sang Polish songs, often through the night. Also of course most prisoners had not seen a female form for years, and to see so many had awakened long forgotten aspirations! A number of RAF were Polish, and there was a fair amount of communication with the women through the wire, almost to the level of romance. Although at the time we were getting short of food
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and had limited amount of clothing, food and clothing was given to them. After all this excitement, one morning at roll call the adjacent compound was empty, the Polish women had gone to – I know not where. It was not until January 1945 that the Russians occupied Warsaw in their advance towards Germany.
After reaching the borders of Holland, the Allies decided a rapid crossing of the river Rhine into Northern Germany would shorten the war by several months. It was planned to drop airborne troops to capture the Arnhem bridge across the Rhine in Holland, and hold it for a few days until armoured divisions from the south broke through. The 700 troops of the British 1st Airborne Division dropped in Arnhem, were not joined by those dropped at Oosterbeek, and were thus isolated at the northern end of the bridge. The armoured divisions from the south were not able to reach the bridge in time and the 1st. Airborne fought to a standstill at Arnhem, having run out of ammunition. They had many casualties and all those still alive were taken prisoner, together with those from Oosterbeek who were unable to get back across the Rhine. The 1st. Airborne were regarded as heroes by the British and Germans alike. After several weeks walking and travelling in cattle trucks, many arrived at Stalag 1VB in an exhausted condition, but nevertheless they marched into the camp almost as if they were on parade. After a short stay for registration etc., most were moved out, to working parties, elsewhere.
The failure at Arnhem was a blow to our optimism about the rapid end of the war and we settled back in our minds to the fact we would see Christmas through in 'Kreigyland'.
December arrived and although Bomber Command had resumed its bombing deep into Germany, taking advantage of the long winter nights, not much had happened on the Western Front since Arnhem. Then to everyone's surprise General von Rundstedt's forces launched a massive strike into the American lines in the Ardennes on 16 December 1944. The 106th American Infantry Division came directly from America and had not been exposed to any action before. The Ardennes was a heavily forested area now under snow and 106th was probably thinking more about Christmas than a possible blitzkrieg. The Germans took thousands of prisoners initially, made deep inroads into Belgium, and the Port of Antwerp was under threat. It took some time for the Americans to halt the advance, and they were not helped by the bad weather, as initially air strikes could not be carried out against the German armour. Eventually the battle, known as 'The Battle of the Bulge', was won at great cost to the Germans, who had run out of fuel. There were many prisoners on both sides. As a result, Stalag 1VB was inundated with new American POWs. They arrived on Christmas Eve, the most dispirited group you would ever wish to see, suffering from dysentery and frostbite. The were starving, dirty, shivering, exhausted men. We had to sleep 2 or 3 to a bunk to accommodate the huge intake, and during the night how we dealt with men who had dysentery, with only one inside latrine, I cannot (or wish to) remember. Luckily, as for food, there was an unexpected issue of RC parcels, which to some extent 'saved the day' – it was Christmas Day after all!
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Some interesting comments were made to me at this time by some American prisoners. One said "Only three weeks ago I was in California where I could eat as much chicken as I liked for a dollar". Another complained that on being taken prisoner a German frisked him and took 60 'D Bars' (60 bars of chocolate) from him! Several said that some prisoners were mown down by a machine gun after they had surrendered. (There was a German SS atrocity, when some 86 Americans were shot, at that time.)
The Americans were with us for about two weeks. Then they were moved out to various working parties and our overcrowding returned to normal proportions! BBC news about the Western Front remained quiet, but we all brightened up when we learned about the Russians' sensational advance from the Vistula to the Oder rivers. This was the only news that made life tolerable in January 1945, after extreme cold and damp in the barracks and very little food.
News of events inside Stalag1VB
News was formulated by budding journalists and artists. A weekly newspaper designed like a normal broadsheet, with headlines, pictures and standard columns, was produced in manuscript. The pictures, portraits and cartoons were all hand drawn or painted. The pages were displayed side by side and affixed to a board made from a Red Cross crate which was moved from barrack to barrack each day. The content would cover outdoor sports events, the Empire theatre, and any topic of interest, gossip etc. When the RAF came from Dulag Luft Transit Camp with a Red Cross issue of pyjamas, this hit the headlines: RAF ARRIVE WITH PYJAMAS – a great source of amusement for the army POWs. A cartoon was published showing a RAF chap coming down by parachute, after being shot down, complete with his own Red Cross food parcel!
The French, the other major national in 1VB
The British in 1943-45 were the greatest number of POWs in the camp, but the French were the prisoners who had been there the longest (1939-45) and were the most involved during this time. They had helped to build the camp in 1939 and were well established with the Germans (I suppose that as the Germans were occupying their country it was politic to do so).
They ran the hospital, one of the cookhouses, did all the clerical work involved in prisoners' records within the German administration, and maintained the POW cemetery at Neuburxdorf, near Muhlberg. Over the years they organised many religious parades. They had a good canteen, university, and theatre which produced plays and musicals. But their greatest skill seemed to be in producing exhibitions and models. I saw two exhibitions – 'Paris' and the other on 'Mountaineering'. Their models were the last word in craftmanship.
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They lived well on the whole, getting black market food more easily than us. Their connections were well established long before we arrived. They seemed to have an 'ownership' of 1VB
British casualties in 1VB
There were about 60 British deaths. Most of these would be due to illness (a result of unhygienic living conditions and an irregular supply of Red Cross food, our mainstay for reasonable health) but there were three who were shot by guards, one suicide, and one accident.
Details of those who were shot:-
One caught stealing coal at night.
One seen trying to pick wild strawberries beyond the trip wire.
One caught at night trying to return over the compound wire to his solitary confinement cell.
The suicide hanged himself in the washhouse.
The accident was caused by a pilot from the nearby night fighter training airfield at Lonnewitz. He 'shot up' the camp at low level and hit two prisoners who were taking exercise walking round the compound football pitch. One was killed and the other seriously injured. The pilot was subsequently court marshalled.
All of these man had military funerals and were buried in a separate part of the Neuburxdorf cemetery. After the war they were re-interred in the 1939-45 Berlin War Cemetery.
My time ends in Stalag1VB
At the end of January 1945 the Germans, having received confirmation of my commission from the Air Ministry, arranged for my transfer to Oflag V11B in Bavaria. I knew from the letters I had received from home that I had been commissioned as long ago as 1 December 1944 and was now a Flying Officer, having been promoted automatically after six months. I was surprised that the Germans would bother to arrange this transfer, as the war could not last much longer. I had believed the move would be to Stalag Luft 3 in Poland, but I hadn't known the Russian advance had already forced the Germans to evacuate the whole of Luft 3 and march westwards.
I was sorry that I would have to leave behind Johnny Bushell (my mucker!), as we had been good friends throughout my period at 1VB, but I knew he would join another group after I had left. We agreed that we would have a grand party for 'us survivors' after the war.
The inmates of Stalag1VB had a hard time after I had left, with few Red Cross parcels, German rations cut and little heating. The theatre had closed down,
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and no doubt the outside activities curtailed during the winter period. I believe it was because of these conditions that John contracted tuberculosis after the war. In the last few weeks at the camp there had been much aerial activity at low level from American Mustangs, who were shooting up everything, including POW wood collecting parties in the woods nearby. So much so that the Germans agreed to have 'POW' painted on some of the roofs of the barracks.
On 23 April 1945 Russian Cossacks on horses, brandishing pistols and cutlasses, galloped down the main road in the camp, their tanks ripping through the barbed wire. Liberation day had arrived! The German guards, their families and some Polish POWs (who were no friends of the Russians) had evacuated the camp in buses the day before. I believe the Russians caught up with them with the ultimate consequences of being overrun by an advancing army.
The Russians occupied the German barracks and administration area, from which the noise of drunken parties could be heard for days. I understand that everything was chaotic in the camp – water and power stopped, latrines remained un-emptied, and there was no food distribution. Everybody had to forage for food etc. from the farms around, where many of the terrified German civilians were either dead (killed or committed suicide) or still hiding in their cellars.
Eventually the Russians organised a column to evacuate the camp to Reisa, by crossing the river Elbe at Strehla, alongside a general trek of German refugees and liberated workers (now displaced persons), heading west.
In Reisa, the Russians tried to register all the British ex POWs. They refused, with a display of arms, to allow some American troops with trucks to evacuate the British across the river Mulde (which the advancing American Army had reached). The British were now, in effect, 'prisoners of the Russians' whilst the Russians tried to trade them for Russian POWs released by the Americans. As a result of the general chaos that developed, from the time the camp was liberated until now, many British (including Johnny Bushell and friends) had 'made a run for it,' stealing bicycles and carts etc., in a move to get across a collapsed railway bridge over the river Mulde. The Americans were waiting on the other side with trucks to take them to Leipzig. For many British who remained with the Russians, repatriation took several weeks.
Departure for OflagV11B, Eichstatt, Bavaria
On 2 February 1945, exactly one year since I had arrived, I said goodbye to 1VB with its 'not so pearly gates' and sinister blackish watchtower.
In a party of five RAF and RAAF chaps and three guards, we set out for OflagV11B, Eichstatt, Bavaria. It was a harrowing time to be travelling on the German railways. The Russians, in their rapid advance eastwards, had brough about many German refugees travelling to the west, and the railways
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were heavily congested with them. To make matters worse the Allied air forces were bombing and strafing the roads and railways around the clock.
I had thought travelling like a civilian, and not in the usual 'cattle trucks', would make it a reasonable journey, especially having spent a year incarcerated in 1VB, but I was wrong. The first train we caught from the nearby junction was very late and literally crawled all the way to Chemnitz, where we waited seven hours for our next connection. We were waiting for a train to Nurnberg on a platform crowded with refugees, all with bundles of clothing and packs. Also there were many hospital cases of wounded soldiers about, looking generally very will and in poor health, pale and thin specimens, all of them. Chemnitz was regarded as a hospital centre and had not been bombed. Up until now the junction was still intact, the station was still selling refreshments (just a watery beer), but had no bookstalls or buffet. The refugees had already waited hours for a train and now there was another delay of 70 minutes. They took it without a murmur and just moved back from the platform edge yet another time. I suppose they had given up! On the other hand, on the opposite track, military trains loaded with panzer troops were passing through, no doubt destined for the Eastern Front. I wondered where they would be in a few days time! . . .
We left Chemnitz, just 10 days or so before the town was heavily bombed, alongside Dresden, for the first time. I and my four companions had certainly witnessed the current use of Chemnitz as a busy rail junction for German armour.
I learned later, that at the Yalta Conference on 4 February 1945, the Allies (Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin) had agreed to assist the Russian advance by bombing important rail heads, through which the German armour would pass to the Eastern Front. These rail heads were Leipzig, Chemnitz and Dresden. Unfortunately Dresden suffered a high loss of life as a result of the heavy bombing, and the firestorm that developed due to the many medieval buildings in the town.
After leaving Chemnitz, we continued southward at a very slow pace, and eventually reached Plauen. We arrived at midnight and our next train left at 5am. This station had taken a packet of bombing and we had five hours of very draughty waiting. The civilians (refugees) were in the same position as ourselves, and they had no shelter or anything to warm them. It seems that a youth movement, girls and boys about ten years old and resident in the town, had been recruited to help these people in their plight, with their baggage or in any other way, throughout this time. It was clear that a sense of emergency was developing, as the Russians neared the German homeland, and they were employing every measure to help their war effort. But what drudgery, and to what avail!
Hof was our next port of call. We got there about 9.30am and as there was another long wait, our guards managed to get a hut with a stove in it, on which we were able to brew some coffee with our bread. This made all the difference and we felt alive again. It was about 5pm that day before we moved
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on. The train was packed and more and more people were on the move, all having waited many hours for connections. It was clear that the railways were in complete disarray. The continuous bombing had made its mark and we were lucky we had not experienced any so far. We had a quick change of trains at 7pm, but what a carriage we had! The train had been strafed, it had no windows at all, and we froze all the way to Nurnberg, which we did not reach until twelve midnight. Here the maelstrom of refugees continued and the station was almost in darkness. We were led virtually by the nose to an air-raid shelter. It was an excellent shelter with air conditioning, and plenty of warmth. Whether there was an air-raid or not I do not know but it was a joy to thaw out. It was another six hours before we moved on again.
From this point I have not recorded the details of the rest of my journey, but OflagV11B was about 50 miles further south, and only a few miles north of the Danube.
OflagV11B, Eichstatt, Bavaria
We arrived at OflagV11B on the forth [sic] or fifth of February 1945. The camp was situated in a small valley running east-west. About a mile away to the south was a road running parallel to the camp. Beyond the road were hills forested with pines and other trees. On the north side was another road, running alongside the camp. Rising from this road was a craggy area, with pine trees scattered along its ridge. It was a very pretty location. What a contrast to Stalag 1VB, with its look of 'Siberia' on my arrival there, a year before.
The camp housed about 1500 officer POWs, all army, from the British Commonwealth (plus now five RAF and RAAF), not like Stalag V1B which had over 20,000 POWs from many nations. The camp was divided into two sections called Upper and Lower camps, separated by a football pitch and an ice hockey ground laid out by the prisoners themselves. The Upper camp was a pre-war built set of barracks with good sanitation and stoves in each room. The Lower camp comprised of five wooden huts with separate room areas and brick stoves, but the sanitation was not as good as the Upper section. Nevertheless the whole camp was like a four-star hotel compared with 1VB. Tom Nelson (also a RAF navigator) and I were in the Lower camp, but when ever possible we used the normal private flush toilets of the Upper camp. I can remember that I used to make special journeys to the toilets in the Upper camp to enjoy the delights of being in a situation which was just like home!
We were in a hut with a portion divided off as a room. We had two sets of double bunks, a tall cupboard on its side which served as a sideboard, with the top as a work surface and storage underneath. There were two easy chairs and a table made from Red Cross crates and we used the services of a communal stove for cooking. The stove was a kreigie modification set into the chimney of the main stove, made up of RC tins and a German pickle tin as a firebox. It enabled us to brew up tea etc., heat up food and keep it warm. The fuel was mostly pine cones (from the wood collecting parties) kept alight by a forced draught, generated by waving a table tennis bat into the opening of the 'firebox'. I have often wondered whether it could have been patented!
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Tom and I were allocated a room with two Australians (Jack Bedells and Nigel Teague) as a mess of four. Jack seemed to be in charge of the German and Red Cross food rations. He also organised a weekly menu and cooked the meals most of the time. In army parlance he was President of the Mess Committee or PMC – gone were the Stalag days of 'muckers'. I cannot recall making any meals but I did a lot of washing up. Although Jack did most of the meals, he was a bit of a hoarder. When from time to time Jack was out on wood collecting parties, Nigel (Paddy) would take over and have a bit of a bash. On one occasion he used up all our chocolate from RC parcels, which he melted down with some margarine, mixed it with a tin of biscuits and solid oatmeal (all crushed up), some Bengers Food and egg powder. When it had set it became a delicious fudge. A bit expensive but at this time it was Easter and the news on the war front was good, so we had a celebration. Another time Jack had tried his hand at making cakes but had used salt instead of sugar. As cakes they were a disaster, but used with a tin of stewed steak, became acceptable Yorkshire puddings!
Jack, and Paddy (a man of few words), obviously had elected to look after us and they were very friendly chaps, but we found that they were quiet and to some extent introspective. In fact most of the people here with like it, and I can only draw the conclusion that they had 'run out of steam'. All of them had been prisoners for four or five years, experienced the same number of Christmases 'go by' and were still behind the wire. Now that the war was almost over they were just waiting for it to 'really happen'. There were still some activities in the camp at this time and I can recall going to their theatre to listen to a recital of Gilbert and Sullivan music. Looking at some of their old programmes and magazines it had been a lively place at one time. They were in the privileged position of having all their 'literature' printed. I suppose that as they received some of their UK pay in lagermarks, they could pay for this work to be done outside the camp. (I cannot recall whether I was receiving any pay at this time, anyway it was too late to bother.)
A few incidents of note I can remember -
On the road to the south, nearly every day you could see in the distance, a troop of Germans marching up and down as if in training, and singing as they marched. We called them 'the singing Goons'. (Germans were often nicknamed Jerries, Krauts, or Goons). I believe they were the Volkssturm, the German 'Homeguard', the Hitler youth and old men recruited to defend the homeland, now it was being invaded on all war fronts. In January 1945 Hitler ordered that, to strengthen their resolve, the Volkssturm would be regrouped with regular army units. In the Russian battle for Berlin in April many of them were killed alongside the more seasoned troops.
Another event, in this late hour of the war, occurred when we had our palliasses removed as punishment for some misdemeaner the Allies had allegedly done to Germans. We had to sleep on bare boards for about a month, not kind to your hips, which at this time, didn't have much flesh on them.
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Then – On 12 April 1945 the Germans informed us that President Roosevelt had died, which was not really a surprise as he had been ill for a long time. (It was a pity that he did not live to see victory, which was less than a month away.) We all assembled as for roll call and had two minutes silence as a mark of respect.
On 9 March 1945 I received a blank book issued by the International Red Cross, named 'A Wartime Log'. It contained pages that could be used as a diary (a bit late in the day) or just to record anything; centre pages for sketching etc. and a rear section with cellophane envelopes to store small items. I spent some time catching up, by writing as much as I could remember of the last year's events, and drew pictures of my present camp and other pictures of interest. I affixed photographs I had received from home. Unfortunately I was unable to complete it, but it has supplied a substantial part of my 'POW DAYS' for which I am extremely grateful, as otherwise it would never have been written.
From February through to April we did not have many Red Cross parcels. One week we were lucky when a truck was diverted through to us, so it had been a sort of 'rags to riches' from one week to another. On 9 March we were told that the German rations were being cut by 20% and potatoes by 33. 1/3%. German rations were poor, but were even more necessary in the, then, current situation of declining Red Cross food supply. We were hoping more than ever, that the war would be over soon.
There was rapid progress in the success of the war for the Allies, from February onwards. The Allies fought through the Siegfried Line in Germany, to the Rhine and took Cologne on 6 March. Then the only surviving bridge over the Rhine at Remegan was captured. From 23 to 26 March, the American armies in the Ruhr area crossed the Rhine, and the British and Canadian airborne and ground troops in the North crossed the Rhine near Wesel, in the greatest operation since D Day. More than 60 bridgeheads were established. As a result massive advances were made. The British and Canadian forces crossed Northern Germany in seven days and reached the Baltic. The American armies had encircled the Ruhr and moved east to Central and Southern Germany.
The import of these advances was that we were soon to learn, as our Commandant informed us on 13 April, that the camp was to be evacuated next day to StalagV11A, Moosburg, some 60 miles or so south across the river Danube. We would march there, with a truck to take any of us who were unable to walk the whole distance. Considering the rate of the American advance under General Patton, it beggars belief that it would be worth the effort to move us at all. (I understand that it had been a standing order from Hitler that no prisoner should fall into 'enemy' hands – but they were now losing the war!)
The 13 April was a hectic day for everybody, packing as much food as possible – luckily there had been an RC parcel delivery that week – and
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essential clothing etc. into kitbags and homemade rucksacks. Some had procured old prams and others had attached some sort of wheels to Canadian Red Cross crates. A number of us had got hold of poles, so that two kitbags could be suspended between the shoulders of two people.
It was a 'motley army' that assembled on the road just outside the camp the following day. At about 9.30 am some 1500 kreigies, in a very long column interspersed with German guards, were ready to move off. Then low over the horizon from the east there swept in a flight of fighter aircraft. The army chap next to me said, "What are they?" and I replied, "They look like ME109s". How wrong can you be! In seconds the 'planes had shot up and straddled with light bombs, a German truck on the road to the south of us. They were a flight of American Mustang fighter bombers! Now it was our turn, the Mustangs wheeled around, and flying in again from the east, started to strafe our column. Pandemonium broke out as the column scattered off the road. Luckily I was in the middle of the column and managed to move off the road in time, before the cannon shells started to spurt along it. The front of the column wasn't so lucky. Then either the aircraft wheeled around again, or another flight appeared in the same run. By this time I was trying to run up the hill to a craggy outcrop for shelter. The Mustangs were barely at 50 feet and firing their cannon. My legs just folded up under me in fright and I didn't make it to the shelter of the rock. I have never felt so vulnerable before or since. The Mustangs on this run were, I believe, firing at a machine gun post on the top of the ridge. They were apparently out of ammunition then, as after this they were gone.
The results of this strafing were tragic: there were some 50 casualties, including seven killed and another three who died within 12 hours. The leader of the camp dance band and a first class pianist, lost an arm, and another chap had to have a leg amputated. Even more tragic when one considers that these chaps had been prisoners for four or five years and were within two weeks of being liberated. We all oved back into the camp and the letters 'POW' were marked out on the football field. It was decided by the Commandant, who had two guards killed and several wounded, that the evacuation would recommence the next evening. We would march by night and lie up under cover during the day. Nobody disagreed with that.
Some days after we left the camp the American army arrived and repatriated the wounded. The event was serious enough for a Question to be asked in the House of Commons as to why a motley column of POWs, in khaki just outside the wire of their camp with its watchtowers and searchlights, could be mistaken for a disciplined column of the German army. The reply was that the American air force thought they were a troop of Hungarians, whose uniforms were also coloured khaki! This was an example of the suffering from 'Friendly Fire' that took place in WW2.
From OflagV11B to StalagV11A
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The march took about six or seven days and unfortunately I did not record details of it. There were no serious incidents during the march and, taking place during the night, not much could be seen. It was more of a trudge along, than a march. As they were not main roads it was quiet, no German troops or armour moving north and no hoards of refugees moving south. There were no towns and only a few villages that we passed through. I don't recall crossing the Danube, but this would have been a natural defence for the Germans, as the Americans advanced south. I understand that pockets of SS troops were active in the forests around Eichstatt, but we did not see or hear any as we moved south.
In my Wartime Log, I did make a sketch of an open barn and farmyard which typified the sort place we stayed in, after each night's march. These farms would have been spread around a village and we were allowed to wander anywhere on parole status. This meant that we would not try to escape. Not that there was any point in escaping at this stage of the war, with the risk of being caught up in a local SS fire fight and the war almost over. Some of the chaps did wander around the farms and houses, trading with locals their cigarettes, for bread and eggs etc. On one occasion I went into a local church and I found a memorial card for a German soldier who was killed in 1941, 'gefallan fur Deuchland', which I kept as a reminder that, in a war, every nation's youth was sacrificed for some so-called national cause.
One event I do remember clearly, in the fading daylight as we moved off one evening. It was two old men just completing a new ornamental wooden fence around their front garden. Each pale had a cloverleaf hole, carefully cut in it at the top with a bow saw. They were so immersed in their work, they didn't notice us as we passed by. Even though much of Germany was in turmoil, the war could have been a thousand miles away, or never even happened, as far as they were concerned. They were just getting on with the remainder of their lives!
On 22 April we reached StalagV11A and it was nearly the end of the war.
StalagV11A, Moosburg, Bavaria
Stalag V11A was started in September 1939 for 10,000 POWs and grew to enormous size over the war years. After the collapse of France, the evacuation at Dunkirk, and the invasion of Russia in 1940, prisoners from 72 nations had passed through the camp. Towards the end of the war there were about 80,000 POWs, 2000 guards and administrative staff, with another 80,000 prisoners with 8000 guards on outside working parties. No doubt these numbers were swollen by the intake of prisoners from other camps likely to be overrun like ourselves. In the final stages the Commandant requisitioned tents for 30,000 prisoners, but we were housed in huts when we arrived.
The huts were like those in Stalag1VB, but probably more dilapidated if that were possible and the whole place was flea ridden. This would have been a shock for our colleagues from OflagV11B having had tolerable living quarters for some years. However we only had a week to suffer until our liberation.
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On the morning of 29 April we were assembled for roll call. However there were no guards to count us and no guards in the watchtowers. Then we heard the rumble of trucks and tanks getting steadily nearer the camp and pass by, a short distance away, but we could not see them. There were a few light explosions and some small arms fire as the column approached the town. This stopped, and in the distance we could see the American flag, the Stars and Stripes, go up over the Town Hall – our war was over! What a 'Holywood ending' for us to experience.
Shortly afterwards an American jeep from General Patton's 3rd. Army entered the camp with a soldier standing, holding aloft the Commandant's revolver which had just been surrendered to him. You couldn't see the rest of the jeep for people trying to climb on to it. The camp was now in a state of euphoria.
I have learned since that Colonel Burger, the German officer responsible for the defence of Moosburg, wanted to hand over the camp to the advancing Americans and for the Americans to by-pass the town. By this means Colonel Burger would ensure the safety of the camp and the town. However Colonel Burger had received orders to deport all the 15000 POW officers in the camp, and to send as many of his own men as he could afford to defend Moosburg. The local command of Moosburg was then taken over on 28 April by an officer of the SS, who was tricked into believing that Burger was going to carry out the deportation orders. When the SS officer left, Burger informed the more senior POW officers, in the presence of the Commandant, of his decision to hand over the camp en bloc to the approaching Americans. On the night of 28 April, under a flag of truce, a delegation including a Swiss delegate, two POW colonels and the SS officer, contacted the Americans to persuade them to go round Moosburg. The Americans held on to the SS officer (as Burger knew they would), declined to go round Moosburg, but accepted the plan to take over the camp from noon 29 April. The plan was carried out with only token resistance in Moosburg (as I actually witnessed) and there were no casualties in the American take-over of the camp.
(I have often thought since, that the reason the German SS wished to hold on to as many officer prisoners as possible, was to use them as hostages to trade for their own lives when the end came!)
Now we had been liberated, all we wanted was to catch a 'plane and fly home. But this was a prodigious task and some organisation obviously necessary before this could happen. The first thing I can remember, was that a number of American ladies assisting the Red Cross appeared, all highly made up as if they were going to a party. They were distributing doughnuts and white bread, which after eating the German bread for 15 months tasted like cake. It was a nice gesture, but I think we would have appreciated more, a field kitchen with some thick soup and American army rations!
The Americans were concerned that in such a large camp with so many nationalities, discipline would weaken, and the inmates would breakout and ravage the town. So we, the British officers, were required to patrol on the
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outside of the wire, in pairs, in the hope that we could maintain order. We had no weapons and luckily no breakouts materialised. I was very relieved when they withdrew this operation, as we could not have prevented any trouble, and instead we could have landed up as being post war casualties.
Plans to fly us out were fairly rapid and I was scheduled to fly to Brussels on 3 May, but this was cancelled. On 6 May I wrote an American air letter home, a rather sad letter, as now I was disappointed about the delay, and conditions in the camp were terrible. Glad to say this letter didn't arrive home until I had been home several weeks!
Eventually a number of us were moved on 8 May to a grass airfield (adjacent to Moosburg town), where some 40 American Dakota transport aircraft were due to arrive to fly us to Brussels. None arrived and we spent all day in glorious sunshine on the airfield, which meant we would all arrive home sunburnt as if we had been on holiday!
The 8 May was VE Day, the day all Germany surrendered to the Allied forces. Since we were released on 29 April, in the space of nine days, German forces had surrendered in Italy. Hitler had committed suicide, the Russians had conquered Berlin, the Americans and Russians had met, officially, on the river Elbe at Torgau (which was near Stalag 1VB), and the Germans in, Holland, Denmark and North Germany had capitulated to the British Army.
At the end of the day on Moosburg airfield, American soldiers took us over to some houses on the edge of the airfield (which they had requisitioned at short notice), so we could 'bed down' for the night. I felt sorry for the owners of the properties, as they had been moved out at short notice and had to leave everything as it was. I for my part just slept on the floor, and at any rate there were too many of us to use the beds. The next morning, early, we had to return to the airfield, but I'm sorry to say not before some of our party had rifled the drawers and cupboards for souvenirs. I felt disgusted by this despoilment of someone's home, by apparently otherwise disciplined men who were now shortly to be reunited with their own families and homes.
On our way home
We had to wait a short time on the airfield for the Dakotas to arrive, so I had my last meal (breakfast) of Red Cross food which I had saved for such an occasion. It was from an American parcel, a box of cornflakes and milk powder, which I managed to mix with water and eat in a comparatively civilised manner.
Not long afterwards I was in the air on my way to Brussels and what a feeling of elation I had! I don't recall much of the flight, but I remember noticing some of the German autobahns with their bridges destroyed. When we arrived in Brussels, the town was in its second VE Day celebrations (9 May), but all I wanted was to clean up and get a change of clothing. We were taken to a Reception Centre where we registered and had a shower. A bit like arriving at Stalag1VB, except we were all issued with new uniforms (and not our existing
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ones deloused with gas!). After that we had a meal, with a band playing light music. One of the pieces played was appropriately 'J'attendrai', and then we were allowed to go into the town. As we were returning to England the next day and recent events were quite exhausting for me, I decided to sleep in a proper bed for the first time for 15 months, and save my celebrations for home.
The next day we left in small parties, only room for a few passengers in each RAF Lancaster, and flew to RAF Odiham in Surrey. We arrived to a heroes' welcome, with Squadron Leaders and Wing Commanders shaking our hands and offering to carry our kit to a hangar. This had been transformed into a large café set out with tables and chairs, with the Station WAAFs kept busy serving us tea and cakes, whilst an RAF band played light music to complete the welcome.
After our refreshment we were each given a ten shilling note (equal to about £40 in year 2004) for our journey to RAF Cosford, Shropshire. A party of us climbed into the back of an RAF open truck, which was to take us along the A30 to Paddington station in London. After some distance in open country we spied a large pub on the right hand side of the road. We thumped on the side of the driver's cab for him to stop, and directed him to the pub for a drink, the first since we were shot down. But when we got to the entrance, there was this devastating notice 'NO BEER'. Of course we had arrived home after two days of victory celebrations and the locals had drunk the place dry! Not to be outdone we charged into the pub and after explaining to the publican our plight, he pulled up some pints of ullage. It was floating with hops, but we didn't car, it was fine.
We followed this bout of 'drinking' with the invasion of a roadside café opposite the pub. We burst in waving our ten shilling notes, asking for cups of tea. When they realised who we were, just back from Germany, we had a bit of a party! Naturally we didn't break into our ten shilling notes, and it was great to be with the British people, back in our homeland again.
On arrival in London we stopped at the Endsleigh Hotel in Paddington for a meal. I took this opportunity to telephone my father from a public call box, using a free phone number. His first words to me were "Are you alright?" My father had a colleague at work, whose son was an army officer in OflagV11B (my camp). He had been wounded in the shoot up by the American Mustangs, left behind in the camp, liberated and repatriated by the Americans to a British hospital a few days later. And of course this event of 'friendly fire' had been followed by a row about it in the House of Commons. I assured my father that I was ok and I should be home in a few days.
We caught a train from Paddington to Cosford shortly after our meal at the hotel. At Cosford we were debriefed by Intelligence Officers for possible atrocities we may have experienced or witnessed in Germany. Of course some weeks before, the Allied forces had over-run the German extermination camps for Jews (the Holocaust). These had been filmed and shown in cinemas across Britain. The whole population had been reviled at what they
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saw. We had not suffered such revolting treatment. Germany had followed the Geneva Convention to what I would describe as a minimum extent. In Stalag1VB, there was excessive overcrowding and lice-ridden living conditions, with no proper sewerage or waste water systems. The food was not sufficient and of low quality. Without the International Red Cross supplying food and monitoring camps, life in prison camps would have been much worse and many more would have died of illness and malnutrition.
Following our debriefing we all had chest X-rays and full aircrew medicals. I was not able to blow up and hold – I think for one minute – a column of mercury, a critical test for aircrew. We were re-issued with battle dress and basic clothing etc. (I did not have an officer's kit, my commission having been promulgated whilst I was a POW, and would have to get it from a military tailor whilst on leave.) After this we were issued with railway warrants and leave passes and free to go home! Not wanting to wait for transport to the railway station a number of us hailed a passing lorry. It was an empty coal lorry. No matter, we couldn't wait, so we climbed aboard, kit bags and all.
I arrived back at Paddington in the late evening, too late to get a train home. Paddington was not far from Park Lane, and living in a deluxe flat in Fountain House in Park Lane was Mr. Heron (the Boys Brigade captain of a company I belonged to before the war). He, his wife and daughter, were good friends of mine and between them had sent me 26 letters whilst I was in Stalag1VB. He was the Chief Engineer of the Dorchester Hotel in Park Lane and was living here because his house in Goodmayes (less than half a mile from where I lived) was completely destroyed by a bomb in 1940. Mr and Mrs Heron were surprised indeed when I knocked on their door that evening. We talked almost the night through. They were the first personal friends I had spoken to for a long time.
The following morning I was on the last leg home. We had no phone at home, and no neighbour who had a phone – not many people had the luxury of a phone in those days – so I could not tell my mother I would be home soon.
I caught a train to Ilford station and from there a taxi home. It was near lunch time, my sisters and father were at work. My mother must have had a premonition it was me knocking on the door, as she was crying buckets of tears of joy and was still holding the cabbage she was preparing, when she opened the door.
October 2008
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Title
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My Prisoner of War Days
Description
An account of the resource
Reg's account starting when he was shot down on an operation to Berlin. After Berlin he was transferred to Frankfurt for interrogation then by train to his camp. Camp life involved food, the preparation and acquisition of extra food by theft, trading or Red Cross parcels. The theatre was very popular as was sport. Trading was a large part of camp life, using cigarettes as currency. Plans to escape and tunneling were active at all times. Mail was very important, as were parcels from home. Once the Germans found out Reg was now an officer he was transferred to an officer's camp in Bavaria where conditions were better. Finally he relates the arrival of the Americans at the camp and his repatriation to his home.
Creator
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Reg Wilson
Date
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2008-10
Spatial Coverage
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Germany--Berlin
Great Britain
England--London
Russia (Federation)--Leningradskai︠a︡ oblastʹ
Germany--Magdeburg
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Oberursel
Europe--Elbe River
Germany--Leipzig
France--Dunkerque
England--London
England--Romford
England--Brighton
France--Normandy
France--Caen
France--Cherbourg
France--Falaise
France--Paris
Poland--Warsaw
Netherlands--Arnhem
France--Ardennes
Poland--Vistula River
Europe--Oder River
Germany--Riesa
Germany--Mulde River Region
Germany--Eichstätt
Germany--Chemnitz
Germany--Nuremberg
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Plauen
Danube River
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Remagen
Germany--Rhineland
France--Dunkerque
Belgium--Brussels
Germany--Torgau
Poland
France
Germany
Belgium
Netherlands
Russia (Federation)
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Essex
England--Sussex
Germany--Hof (Hof)
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Format
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39 printed sheets
Identifier
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MWilsonRC1389401-170113-100001
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
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Sue Smith
102 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
B-17
bale out
bomb aimer
bombing
C-47
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
crash
Dulag Luft
entertainment
escaping
evading
H2S
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
Ju 88
Lancaster
Me 109
navigator
Operation Exodus (1945)
P-51
prisoner of war
RAF Cosford
RAF Odiham
Red Cross
Roosevelt, Franklin Delano (1882-1945)
sport
Stalag Luft 3
strafing
the long march
Typhoon
V-1
V-2
V-weapon
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1560/35630/BMillingtonRWestonFv1.2.pdf
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Weston, Fred
F Weston
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-11-13
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
Weston, F
Description
An account of the resource
20 items. The collection concerns Fred Weston DFC (1916 - 2012, 126909 Royal Air Force) and contains documents and photographs. He flew operations as an air gunner with 101 and 620 Squadrons.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Catherine Millington 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
Air Gunner
Based around the WWII service of Fred Weston DFC RAFVR
Description
An account of the resource
A biography of Fred. In addition it includes histories of aircraft and squadrons he served in, Details are included of airfields he served at. Additionally there are biographies of various servicemen associated with Fred's squadrons and service.
At the end there is a biography of the officer in charge of Arnhem, Lt-Gen Sir Frederick Browning and his wife Daphne du Maurier.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Roger Millington
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2005-01
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Cambridge
England--Letchworth
Wales--Bridgend
Wales--Penrhos
Egypt--Heliopolis (Extinct city)
Singapore
France--Cherbourg
Netherlands--Eindhoven
France--Brest
France--Boulogne-sur-Mer
France--Dunkerque
Germany--Wilhelmshaven
France--Brest
Netherlands--Rotterdam
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Berlin
Italy--Turin
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
France--L'Isle-Adam
France--Quiberon
France--Boulogne-Billancourt
Germany--Essen
France--Le Creusot
Germany--Leverkusen
France--Caen
Netherlands--Arnhem
Norway
Germany--Wesel (North Rhine-Westphalia)
Belgium--Brussels
England--Rochester (Kent)
Northern Ireland--Belfast
England--Longbridge
France--Arras
England--Darlington
Italy--Genoa
England--Longbridge
Yemen (Republic)--Aden
Europe--Frisian Islands
Germany--Peenemünde
Germany--Nuremberg
Italy--Sicily
France--Normandy
Netherlands--Arnhem
Netherlands--Eindhoven
Netherlands--Nijmegen
Wales--Pwllheli
England--Yorkshire
England--Leicester
England--Sunderland (Tyne and Wear)
Scotland--Edinburgh
England--Rochford
England--London
England--Cornwall (County)
Scotland--Ayr
England--Friston (East Sussex)
England--Gravesend (Kent)
England--West Malling
England--Hailsham
England--Yelverton (Devon)
England--Bentwaters NATO Air Base
England--Great Dunmow
England--Heacham
England--Weybridge
Wales--Hawarden
England--Blackpool
England--Old Sarum (Extinct city)
England--Kent
England--Folkestone
England--Hambleton (North Yorkshire)
England--York
Scotland--Scottish Borders
England--Cambridge
England--Thurleigh
England--Darlington
England--Hitchin
England--Lancashire
Italy
France
Egypt
Germany
Belgium
Netherlands
Great Britain
Yemen (Republic)
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Bedfordshire
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Devon
England--Durham (County)
England--Sussex
England--Essex
England--Herefordshire
England--Norfolk
England--Suffolk
England--Surrey
England--Wiltshire
England--Worcestershire
England--Leicestershire
England--Swindon (Wiltshire)
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Air Force. Coastal Command
Royal Air Force. Fighter Command
British Army
Wehrmacht. Luftwaffe
Royal Canadian Air Force
Royal New Zealand Air Force
Free French Air Force
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Personal research
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
85 sheets
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BMillingtonRWestonFv1
1 Group
100 Group
101 Squadron
103 Squadron
105 Squadron
114 Squadron
139 Squadron
141 Squadron
148 Squadron
149 Squadron
162 Squadron
1657 HCU
1665 HCU
18 Squadron
180 Squadron
2 Group
208 Squadron
214 Squadron
239 Squadron
3 Group
301 Squadron
304 Squadron
342 Squadron
6 Group
6 Squadron
620 Squadron
7 Squadron
75 Squadron
8 Group
9 Squadron
90 Squadron
97 Squadron
99 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
air gunner
aircrew
B-17
B-24
B-25
bale out
Beaufighter
Blenheim
bombing
Bombing and Gunnery School
Boston
Caterpillar Club
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
crash
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
ditching
evading
final resting place
Gee
Gneisenau
H2S
Halifax
Harris, Arthur Travers (1892-1984)
Harvard
Heavy Conversion Unit
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
Horsa
Hurricane
Ju 87
killed in action
Lancaster
Lysander
Manchester
Me 109
Meteor
mid-air collision
mine laying
Mosquito
navigator
Oboe
Operational Training Unit
P-51
Pathfinders
prisoner of war
propaganda
radar
RAF Bicester
RAF Biggin Hill
RAF Boscombe Down
RAF Bottesford
RAF Bourn
RAF Bradwell Bay
RAF Bramcote
RAF Chedburgh
RAF Chipping Warden
RAF Coltishall
RAF Drem
RAF Driffield
RAF Duxford
RAF Elsham Wolds
RAF Evanton
RAF Fairford
RAF Finningley
RAF Great Massingham
RAF Halfpenny Green
RAF Harwell
RAF Hendon
RAF Holme-on-Spalding Moor
RAF Honington
RAF Hornchurch
RAF Horsham St Faith
RAF Kenley
RAF Lakenheath
RAF Leconfield
RAF Leuchars
RAF Linton on Ouse
RAF Little Snoring
RAF Ludford Magna
RAF Manston
RAF Marham
RAF Martlesham Heath
RAF Mildenhall
RAF Newmarket
RAF Newton
RAF North Luffenham
RAF Oakington
RAF Penrhos
RAF Pershore
RAF Ridgewell
RAF Shepherds Grove
RAF Sleap
RAF Stradishall
RAF Tangmere
RAF Tempsford
RAF Tilstock
RAF Tuddenham
RAF Waterbeach
RAF West Raynham
RAF Woodbridge
RAF Wratting Common
RAF Wyton
Resistance
Scharnhorst
Special Operations Executive
Spitfire
Stirling
target indicator
Tiger force
training
Typhoon
V-1
V-2
V-weapon
Wellington
-
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Weston, Fred
F Weston
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-11-13
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
Weston, F
Description
An account of the resource
20 items. The collection concerns Fred Weston DFC (1916 - 2012, 126909 Royal Air Force) and contains documents and photographs. He flew operations as an air gunner with 101 and 620 Squadrons.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Catherine Millington 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
"Fred" by Sylvia White (his cousin)
Description
An account of the resource
Fred's life story from early days sneaking downstairs to drink the dregs at his parent's public house, playing rugby and studying hard, becoming an accountant, learning to be an accurate rifle shooter then joining the RAF as a an air gunner. He survived a tour of 30 operations. After the war he studied for a B.Sc in Forestry and worked for the Forestry Commission.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Sylvia White
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Runcorn
England--Widnes
Wales--Penrhos
England--Cambridge
Germany--Hamburg
Netherlands--Arnhem
Wales--Bangor
England--Winchester
England--Helmsley
England--Hambleton (North Yorkshire)
England--Pickering
Germany
Netherlands
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Cheshire
England--Hampshire
England--Yorkshire
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Civilian
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Personal research
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Four printed sheets and one handwritten note
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MWestonF126909-161113-060001, MWestonF126909-161113-060002, MWestonF126909-161113-060003, MWestonF126909-161113-060004,
MWestonF126909-161113-060005
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.
101 Squadron
620 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
animal
anti-aircraft fire
bale out
Blenheim
Bombing and Gunnery School
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
crash
Distinguished Flying Cross
entertainment
faith
George VI, King of Great Britain (1895-1952)
Gneisenau
killed in action
mid-air collision
military ethos
RAF Penrhos
Scharnhorst
Stirling
training
Wellington
Whitley
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1568/35500/BFreemanWFreemanWv1.2.pdf
3f3caa442d86d0abdb3348aa0c6b5c21
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
Freeman, Bill
William Freeman
W Freeman
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
2016-12-07
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Freeman, W
Description
An account of the resource
11 items. The collection concerns Bill Freeman (1806695 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book memoir and photographs. He flew operations as an air gunner with 550 and 300 Squadrons.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Monica Snowball and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[underlined] 1 [/underlined]
5TH APRIL 1943 SAW ME LEAVE TWICKENHAM to REPORT FOR SERVICE IN THE ROYAL AIR FORCE. MOST OF MY FRIENDS HAD ALREADY BEEN CALLED UP, SO IT WAS A RELIEF TO BE JOINING THEM AT LAST. EVEN SO IT WAS A WRENCH TO BE LEAVING HOME. I MADE MY WAY TO LORDS CRICKET GROUND NEAR REGENTS PARK IN LONDON, UPON REPORTING TOGETHER WITH MANY MORE, WE FILLED IN MASSES OF PAPER WORK & WERE KITTED OUT. FIRST A MASSIVE KIT BAG & EVERYTHING ELSE WAS JUST SHOVED IN. IT WEIGHED A TON. AFTER LUNCH WE WERE PARADED IN SOME SORT OF ORDER & MARCHED TO VICEROY COURT. A RECENTLY BUILT LUXURY BLOCK OF FLATS, WITHOUT ANY LUXURIES. THE FLOORS WERE PLAIN CONCRETE, THE ROOMS CONTAINED 1 BED AND 1 CUPBOARD PER BODY, OF WHICH THERE WERE ABOUT 1 DOZEN PER ROOM. WE WERE INSTRUCTED TO UNPACK OUR KIT, CHECK EVERYTHING FOR SIZE. ANYTHING NOT FITTING WAS TO BE EXCHANGED THE FOLLOWING DAY. PARADE THE FOLLOWING MORNING, IN UNIFORM WAS AT 8 AM, BREAKFAST WAS AT 7 AM BED HAD TO BE MADE UP IN ARMY FASHION, READY FOR OFFICER’S INSPECTION. A DRILL SERGEANT WAS ASSIGNED TO INSTRUCT US AND INFORM US ABOUT WHAT WAS TO BE EXPECTED, THERE WAS ABOUT 20 OF US IN OUR FLIGHT. OUR FIRST DAY WAS TO BE TAKEN UP WITH MEDICAL & INJECTIONS. SO OFF WE WERE MARCHED TO SOMEWHERE NEAR THE ZOO. WE WERE A RAGGED LOT, BUT HAVING DONE TRAINING & DRILL WITH THE HOME GUARD IT WAS EASY FOR ME TO FIT IN. THE MEDICALS & INJECTIONS & LUNCH TOOK ALL MORNING QUITE A FEW OF THE LADS WERE OVERCOME & LAID OUT ON BENCHES. THE SERGEANT WASN’T TOO PLEASED AT THIS, HE [missing words]
[page break]
[underlined] 2 [/underlined]
THAN THE OTHERS, COULD YOU FIND YOUR WAY BACK TO VICEROY COURT?” I SAID “YES SERGEANT” HE SAID “VERY WELL, MARCH THOSE THAT CAN WALK BACK, I WILL HAVE TO GET A WAGON TO TAKE THE OTHER SHOWER BACK”. STAY IN YOUR BILLET UNTIL I COME BACK” I TOLD THE OTHER LADS WHAT WAS GOING ON & THEY ACCEPTED THAT IT WAS BETTER THAN HANGING AROUND FOR A COUPLE OF HOURS. SO OFF WE WENT AND IN 15 MINUTES WERE BACK AT VICEROY COURT. THE LADS WERE GLAD TO LAY ON THEIR BEDS FOR THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON, I MANAGED TO SEE THE SERGEANT IN THE KITCHEN AND SCROUNGED TEA & BISCUITS, WHICH WENT DOWN WELL. THE DRILL SERGEANT WAS QUITE HAPPY ON HIS RETURN TO SEE ALL HIS FLIGHT WAS ACCOUNTED FOR & DISMISSED US UNTIL 8 AM PARADE THE FOLLOWING MORNING, BUT WE HAD TO REMAIN IN QUARTERS, NO TRIPS INTO TOWN. THE FOLLOWING MORNING WAS TAKEN UP WITH CLASSROOM WORK ON AIRFORCE PROCEDURE & WORKING. AFTERNOON FREE TO GET OVER THE EFFECTS OF THE INOCCULATIONS. THE FOLLOWING MORNING WAS TAKEN UP WITH DRILL & MARCHING, AFTER A WHILE THE SERGEANT PULLED ME OUT & TOLD ME TO TAKE OVER. HIS WORDS WERE “LETS SEE JUST WHAT YOU DO KNOW”. SO THE HOME GUARD TRAINING WAS COMING IN USEFUL & ALL WENT WELL. IT WENT SO WELL THAT FOR THE REST OF THE WEEK I WAS GIVEN THE JOB OF DRILLING THE OTHERS WHENEVER THE NEED AROSE. TO MY ASTONISHMENT THE LADS TOOK IT WELL – WE HAD NO TROUBLE. MAINLY BECAUSE AT THE END OF THE DRILL SESSION WE WERE ALWAYS FIRST IN THE QUEUE FOR MEALS. WE WERE POSTED to [missing words]
[page break]
[underlined] 3 [/underlined]
of THE WEEK. BEFOR [sic] WE LEFT, THE DRILL SERGEANT SAID “GOOD LUCK, YOU’VE HAD A GOOD REPORT ON YOUR RECORD, THIS WEEK HAS BEEN AN EASY ONE FOR ME.” BRIDLINGTON OUR BILLET WAS A HOUSE IN RICHMOND ROAD. THE COURSE WORK WAS AIRCRAFT RECOGNITION MORSE CODE SIGNALLING & GENERAL DRILLING ETC. THIS LASTED 6 WEEKS. THOSE THAT PASSED THE TEST WERE POSTED TO BRIDGENORTH IN SHROPSHIRE. HERE WE WERE INSTRUCTED IN THE WORKINGS OF THE FRAZER NASH TURRET & THE BROWNING 303 MACHINE GUN, AIRCRAFT RECOGNITION WAS AGAIN A MUST. ALL WAS CLASSROOM WORK WITH A MAJOR EXAM AT THE END OF A FUTHER [sic] 6 WEEKS, THEN OFF TO STORMY DOWNS IN SOUTH WALES. STORMY DOWNS WAS APTLY NAMED. THE DROME WAS ON THE HILLS CLOSE TO THE SEA & THE AIRCRAFT WERE AVRO ANSONS WITH A GUN TURRET MIDWAY ALONG THE FUSELAGE. THE PILOTS WERE THOSE BEING RESTED AFTER A TOUR OF OPPERATIONS. [sic] ALL OF US CADETS HAD NOT FLOWN BEFOR [sic] & THE PILOTS TOOK GREAT DELIGHT IN THROWING THE AIRCRAFT ABOUT TO SEE IF THEY COULD MAKE US AIRSICK. FORTUNATELY I STOOD UP TO IT PRETTY WELL, AND WHILST FEELING A BIT SQUEEZY AT TIMES, MANAGED TO KEEP THINGS UNDER CONTROL. HERE WE DID AIR TO AIR FIREING [sic] & PRACTICE CINE CAMERA GUNNERY, WITH OTHER AIRCRAFT ATTACKING. HAVING AT LAST GOT THE RUDIMENTS OF WHAT AIR GUNNERY WAS ABOUT, WE WERE EXAMINED & PASSED OUT AS AIR GUNNERS, GIVEN 3 STRIPES & THE RANK OF SERGEANT AND SENT ON 7 DAYS LEAVE. I [missing words]
[page break]
[underlined] 4 [/underlined]
AIR GUNNER, ALL IN A MATTER OF 5 MONTHS OF JOINING. THE LEAVE WENT QUICKLY & I HAD BEEN NOTIFIED THAT I WAS TO REPORT TO HIXON IN STAFFORDSHIRE, TO BE CREWED UP, & SO IT WAS AT THE END OF AUGUST ’43 THAT I WAS TO MEET THE CHAPS I WAS TO FLY WITH. IT WAS A QUEER MEETING. WE STOOD AROUND IN OUR VARIOUS GROUPS WIRELESS OPS, BOMB AIMERS, NAVIGATORS, & AIR GUNNERS THE PILOTS THEN APPROACHED EACH GROUP AND ASKED INDIVIDUALS IF THEY WOULD LIKE TO JOIN HIS CREW. BY THE TIME HE CAME TO THE GUNNERS HE HAD ALREADY GOT THE OTHERS TOGETHER. HIS OPENING LINE AS HE CAME UP TO ME WAS “CREWED UP YET GUNNER?” I LOOKED UP TO SEE A CHAP OF MY OWN AGE, FAIR HAIRED & WITH A BIG SMILE AND A TWINKLE IN HIS EYES, AND A SERGEANTS STRIPES ON HIS ARM. WHY I ASKED MYSELF WAS HE ONLY A SERGEANT. MOST PILOTS WERE OFFICER RANK. I REPLIED THAT I WASN’T CREWED UP, HIS NEXT WORDS WERE OFF PUTTING “HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT BECOMING A HERO & WINNING MEDALS” HE SAID. “NO THANKS” I REPLIED “THE ONLY MEDAL I WANT IS THE LONG SERVICE ONE” HE LAUGHED AND SAID “YOU’LL DO, COME AND MEET THE OTHERS” WITH THAT WE INTRODUCED OURSELVES. THE PILOT WAS RON JONES FROM BRIGHTON. HE HAD BEEN PUT BACK TO SERGEANT PILOT BECAUSE HE HAD UPSET too MANY “BIG WIGS” THE NAVIGATOR WAS ART CRICHE CANADIAN FARMER. THE BOMB AIMER ANOTHER CANADIAN DAVE BREMNER A YOUNG COLLEGE BOY FULL OF FUN THE WIRELESS OPERATOR WAS KEN SMITH, SHORT, TUBBY FROM DEWSBURY & A COMIC. SO [missing words]
[page break]
[underlined] 5 [/underlined]
GET THEMSELVES INTO A TEAM, FOR THE ESSENCE OF A BOMBER CREW WAS EACH TO HAVE THE CONFIDENCE OF THE OTHERS. HIXON WAS AN OPPERATIONAL [sic] TRAINING UNIT. FLYING WELLINGTON TWIN ENGINE BOMBERS, OR WIMPYS AS WE LOVINGLY CALLED THEM. WE FLEW AS A CREW MAINLY. PRACTISING TAKE OFFS & LANDINGS. HIGH & LOW LEVEL BOMBING CROSS COUNTRY NAVIGATIONAL TRIPS OF 4 TO 5 hours AND GUNNERY EXERCISES. I ALSO HAD TO GO ON A SPECIAL GUNNERY COURSE & RECOGNITION COURSE AT THIS TIME MY SHOOTING WAS NOT VERY BRILLIANT, BUT THANKFULLY IMPORVED BEFOR [sic] IT WAS NEEDED. GRADUALLY IN THE WEEKS AHEAD, WE BECAME RELIANT ON EACH OTHER, WE WORKED HARD TO BECOME A TEAM, UNTIL WE ALMOST KNEW WHAT THE OTHERS WERE THINKING. SOCIALLY WE HAD VERY LITTLE CONTACT WITH EACH OTHER, BUT ONCE A WEEK WE HAD A CREW MEAL IN A LOCAL PUB, THE 2 CANADIANS BEING OFFICERS, PAID FOR THE MEAL & THE SERGEANTS PAID FOR THE DRINKS. OUR OTHER CONTACT WAS ONLY DURING FLYING TRAINING, WHICH WE ALL TOOK SERIOUSLY AND IT PAID OFF LATER ON. MY SPARE TIME, MOSTLY EVENINGS WAS SPENT IN STAFFORD, DARTS SNOOKER & DRINKING IN THE LOCALS. I HAD MADE FRIENDS WITH ANOTHER GUNNER NAMED TONY. HE WAS ABOUT THE SAME AGE AS MYSELF. A BLONDE, BLUE EYED, HANDSOME FELLOW. AN ONLY CHILD OF DOTING PARENTS & VERY SHY. I DONT THINK HE HAD EVER HAD A DRINK BEFORE JOINING THE AIRFORCE. MANY TIMES I HAD TO TAKE HIM BACK TO CAMP WORSE FOR WEAR. DURING ONE OF OUR EVENINGS [missing words]
[page break]
[underlined] 6 [/underlined]
GIRL FRIEND, WE USED TO GET THE LORRY TO TAKE US IN TO STAFFORD, THE [sic] INTO THE PUB FOR DRINKING DANCING. HE WOULD GO OFF WITH HIS GIRL & I WOULD PLAY DARTS OR SNOOKER, UNTIL IT WAS TIME TO GO BACK TO CAMP. ALL OUR MATES WOULD PILE INTO THE LORRY, IN VARIOUS STATES OF INEBRIATION ESPECIALLY TONY, TOWARD THE END OF OCTOBER ’43 OUR CREW HAD BEEN ON A CROSS COUNTRY FLIGHT OF ABOUT 5 hours AND WERE READY TO LAND, WHEN WE SAW THAT THERE WAS A PLANE ON THE GROUND ON FIRE. WE WERE ALLOWED TO LAND & IN THE FLIGHT OFFICE WERE TOLD THAT THE CREW WAS TONY’S & THAT THEY MANAGED TO GET OUT, EXCEPT TONY IN THE REAR TURRET BEING TONY’S MATE I HAD THE TASK OF COLLECTING HIS PERSONAL BELONGINGS AND PRESENTING THEM TO HIS PARENTS WHEN THEY CAME TO CAMP. I VOWED THEN THAT I WOULD NOT GET INVOLVED IN ANY CLOSE FRIENDSHIP WHILST FLYING AGAIN & NEVER DID. THE EVENING AFTER THE ACCIDENT I WENT INTO STAFFORD, INTO THE PUB WHERE I KNEW HIS GIRL FRIEND WOULD BE. AS SOON AS SHE SAW ME ON MY OWN SHE KNEW THAT SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED. THERE WERE NO TEARS AS I TOLD HER. WE FINNISHED [sic] OUR DRINKS AND SHE JUST SAID “THANKS BILL” & OFF SHE WENT WITH HER CROWD. SHE HAD SEEN IT HAPPEN BEFOR [sic] & NO DOUBT WOULD SEE IT HAPPEN AGAIN, AS WE ALL DID. A WEEK LATER WE HAD OUR LAST FLIGHT AT THE OTU it was TO BE A TRIP OVER SOUTHERN FRANCE. WE WERE LOADED UP WITH [missing words]
[page break]
[underlined] 7 [/underlined]
DETAILING ALL THE NEWS OF THE PROGRESS OF THE WAR. ALSO WE HAD BUNDLES OF FOIL STRIPS WHICH WERE TO BE RELEASED AT A GIVEN TIME AT A GIVEN PLACE, THESE FOIL STRIPS REFLECTED THE SIGNALS OF GERMAN RADAR & GAVE THE APPEARANCE OF A HUGE FORMATION OF BOMBERS, IT ACTED AS A DECOY & DREW FIGHTER AIRCRAFT AWAY FROM THE TRUE BOMBER FORCE. WE ACCOMPLISHED THIS MISSION WITHOUT MISHAP & WERE THRILLED THAT AT LAST WE HAD BEEN PART OF A RAID. THEN IT WAS A 14 DAY LEAVE. IT WAS DURING THIS LEAVE THAT I CELEBRATED MY 21ST BIRTHDAY ALBEIT, A LITTLE EARLY, BUT AFTER FLYING IT SEEMED QUEER NOT TO HEAR THE ROAR OF AIRCRAFT ENGINES. ALSO THE FLYING ROUTINE WAS MISSING, SO WHILST IN [sic] WAS NICE TO BE HOME WITH THE FAMILY I WAS NOT SORRY TO BE GOING BACK. THERE WAS MORE TRAINING TO BE DONE & I HAD TO GO FOR A WEEKS GUNNERY COURSE TO BINBROOK. THIS WAS AN AUSTRALIAN BOMBER STATION, VERY OPPERATIONAL [sic] & THEIR LOSSES WERE HIGH. THE FIRST PERSON THAT I MET AT BINBROOK WAS A CHAP I HAD DONE MY INITIAL TRAINING WITH AT STORMY DOWNS. A WELSHMAN FROM TREDEGAR & AN EX POLICEMAN NAMED VICTOR JONES. VIC & I HAD BEEN PUT FORWARD FOR OFFICER SELECTION AS WE HAD TOPPED THE COURSE TABLES. THERE WAS ONE OFFICER PLACE PER COURSE. I WAS NOT OVERKEEN & THOUGHT THAT ONLY 5 MONTHS DID NOT JUSTIFY BEING MADE AN OFFICER. THE BENEFITS [sic] OF BEING AN [missing words]
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[underlined] 8 [/underlined]
WHEN SHOT DOWN YOU WOULD BE ENTITLED TO BETTER TREATMENT. VIC GOT THE OFFICERSHIP, MUCH TO MY RELIEF. AFTER THE DAY’S GUNNERY PRACTICE, I USED TO MEET UP WITH VIC, BORROW HIS SPARE UNIFORM & WE WOULD HAVE A DRINK OR TWO IN THE OFFICERS MESS, WHICH WAS VERY ENJOYABLE. AFTER A WEEK I LEFT BINBROOK THANKFULLY MY SHOOTING HAD IMPROVED & I WAS MORE CONFIDENT IN MY JOB. SADLY I HEARD A FEW MONTHS LATER THAT VIC HAD BEEN SHOT DOWN I REJOINED MY CREW AT BLYTON 1662 CONVESION [sic] UNIT. WE WERE TO FLY HALIFAXES. ONE OF THE MOST DANGEROUS AND CONTRARY AIRCRAFT AND SO EASY FOR INEXPERIENCED PILOTS TO CRASH. HOWEVER, RON, OUR PILOT MASTERED THE BRUTE & WE COMPLETED 10 DAYS THERE. DURING THIS TIME OUR CREW INCREASED BY 2. THE FLIGHT ENGINEER CALLED GEORGE, I NEVER DID KNOW HIS SURNAME. HE WAS A LONDONER & HAD WON HIMSELF THE GEORGE CROSS MEDAL FOR HIS PART IN THE BLITZ. OUR PILOT TOOK AN INSTANT DISLIKE TO HIM & ALWAYS FELT THAT GEORGE WAS ONLY WAITING TO WIN MORE MEDALS, WHICH WAS AGAINST OUR CREWS WAY OF THINKING. WE ALWAYS SAID THAT OUR JOB WAS TO REACH THE TARGET DROP THE BOMBS & GET HOME IN ONE PIECE. HOWEVER GEORGE WAS GOOD AT HIS JOB & WAS NEVER GIVEN THE CHANCE TO PLAY THE HERO. – MUCH TO HIS DISGUST - . THE OTHER MEMBER WAS THE MID-UPPER GUNNER JOHNNY JOHNSON, SHORT & [missing words]
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[underlined] 9 [/underlined]
HIMSELF TO HIMSELF & CAME FROM NORTHAMPTON OUR ORIGINAL 5 NEVER REALLY GOT USED TO BECOMING 7. BUT WE ALL DID OUR JOBS AND MADE A DECENT CREW. WE TRANSFERED [sic] (MUCH TO OUR RELIEF) to LANCASTERS AT HEMSWELL FOR A WEEK AT ELSHAM WOLDS AFTER A COUPLE OF FLIGHTS IT WAS FINALLY ONTO 550 SQUADRON AT NORTH KILLINGHOLME NEAR GRIMSBY, OUR FIRST TASTE OF OPPERATIONAL [sic] LIFE. IT WAS NOW MARCH 1944. KILLINGHOLME KILLINGHOLME [sic] HAD ONLY JUST OPENED UP IN JAN 44 & THE FACILITIES WERE VERY SPARTAN & WE HAD TO ROUGH IT FOR SOME TIME. SLEEPING ACCOMODATION [sic] WAS A NISSEN HUT, STRAW MATTRESSES ON IRON BEDS & TWO COKE STOVES FOR HEATING, BUT AS THE C/O SAID “YOU’LL BE PLENTY WARM ENOUGH, FLYING.” WE SETTLED IN WELL TO SQUADRON LIFE. WE STILL HAD TO TRAIN DURING THE DAY. WE WORKED WELL TOGETHER & DEVISED A SYSTEM SO THAT WE WERE AS EFFICIENT AS WE COULD BE. THEN ON THE 10TH APRIL 1944 OUR PILOTS NAME APPEARED ON THE FLIGHT LIST. THE ROUTINE THEN & IN FUTURE TO BE REPEATED OFTEN, WAS, 10 AM IN THE MORNING, CREW BUS TO THE AIRCRAFT WE WERE TO USE. Q-QUEENIE, EACH OF US CHECKED & RECHECKED HIS PART. THE ENGINES WERE RUN UP & THE PILOT CHECKED EACH ENGINE SEPERATELY. [sic] ANYTHING HE DIDN’T LIKE WAS ATTENDED TO & CHECKED AGAIN THE WIRELESS OP. CHECKED HIS EQUIPMENT. WE [missing words]
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[underlined] 10 [/underlined]
HAD TO CHECK MY GUNS WERE IN WORKING ORDER AMMUNITION RAN SMOOTHLY INTO THE GUN. THE AMMUNITION BELT WAS FOLDED INSIDE THE FUSELAGE & RAN IN TRACKS INTO THE TURRET. COULD NOT AFFORD A JAMMED BULLET, IF NEED AROSE, TO MESS THINGS UP. THE TURRET HAD TO WORK SMOOTHLY THE HYDRAULICS FREE FROM LEAKS & AIRLOCKS THE ELECTRIC HEATING FOR MY FLYING SUIT HAD TO BE WORKING, FROZEN FINGERS AT A CRUSIAL [sic] MOMENT to BE AVOIDED. THE INSIDE PERSPEX WAS CLEANED so THAT VISION WAS CLEAR. EVERYTHING CHECKED & RECHECKED, THEN & ONLY THEN THE PILOT WAS ADVISED THAT EVERYTHING WAS O.K – THE BOOK SIGNED. WE HAD A FIRST CLASS GROUND CREW & RARELY FOUND A FAULT, WHEN WE DID, IT WAS PUT RIGHT. BY FINDING OUT HOW MUCH PETROL WAS BEING PUT IN & THE WEIGHT AND TYPE OF BOMBS WE COULD WORK OUT THE DISTANCE AND TYPE OF TARGET of the opperation. [sic] ALL WAS TO BE REVEALED AT THE BRIEFING ABOUT 2 hours BEFOR [sic] TAKE OFF NO ONE WAS ALLOWED OUT OF CAMP UNTIL TAKE OFF. AT THE BRIEFING it WOULD BE DISCLOSED THE TARGET, THE COURSE to BE SET TIME OF TAKE OFF, TIME OVER TARGET & TIME BACK. WE WERE ISSUED WITH AN ESCAPE KIT IN CASE WE HAD TO BALE OUT & CHOCOLATE & CANNED DRINK FOR THE JOURNEY. ALL RELEVANT INFORMATION WAS GIVEN & DIJESTED. [sic] THE NAVIGATOR THEN HAD TO WORK OUT HIS FLIGHT PLAN. OUR NAVIGATOR WAS SLOW & METHODICAL. I NEVER KNEW HIM TO [missing words]
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[underlined] 11 [/underlined]
ON, TOO SOON OR TOO LATE MEANT THAT YOU WERE ON YOUR OWN & EASILY PICKED UP BY RADAR, SEARCHLIGHTS or FIGHTERS, SO THEN TO TAKE OFF. OUR TARGET ON THAT FIRST TRIP WAS MARSHALLING YARDS AT AULNOYE. TAKE OFF 23.35 time over TARGET 02.25 WE PILED INTO THE CREW BUS WITH 2 OTHER CREWS & WERE TAKEN OUT TO OUR AIRCRAFT THERE WAS A BIT OF LAUGHING & JOKING & AS EACH CREW LEFT, IT WAS “CHEERIO, SEE YOU AT BREAKFAST”. WHEN OUR AIRCRAFT WAS REACHED, WE ALIGHTED, SAID “CHEERIO” to the GROUND CREW & CLIMBED ABOARD, THE JOKES STOPPED & WE WERE EACH LEFT TO OUR OWN THOUGHTS “HOW WOULD WE COPE UNDER FIRE” WE SHOOK EACH OTHERS HAND, PATTED THE SIDE OF THE AIRCRAFT & MADE OUR WAY TO OUR POSTS. MINE WAS A LONG WALK TO THE REAR, STOWING MY PARACHUTE OUTSIDE THE TURRET I SWUNG MYSELF IN, PLUGGED IN MY ELECTIC [sic] HEATER, CHECKED IT & SWITCHED OFF, RUNNING THROUGH ALL THE CHECKS I REPORTED OVER THE INTERCOM THAT ALL WAS O.K. EACH MEMBER IN TURN REPORTED AND ALL WAS SET. AT THE APPROPRIATE TIME THE ENGINES WERE STARTED & CHOCKS AWAY WE WERE MOVING TO THE END OF THE RUNWAY. GIVING THE THUMBS UP SIGN FROM THE GROUND CREW SERGEANT. ONE PLANE AFTER THE OTHER WERE SIGNALLED OFF & SOON WE WERE AIRBOURNE [sic] & REACHING 20,000 FT [missing words]
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[underlined] 12 [/underlined]
LIKE A TRAINING EXERCISE. SOON IT WAS OVER THE FRENCH COAST & COURSE SET FOR TARGET TARGET [sic] REACHED SPOT ON TIME. FEW SEARCHLIGHTS AND A BIT OF “ACK-ACK” GUNFIRE. THE BOMB AIMER LINED UP HIS TARGET & GAVE THE PILOT DIRECTIONS. I FELT THE AIRCRAFT RISE AS HE REPORTED “BOMBS GONE SKIPPER” THE PILOT REPLIED “THANK YOU BOMB AIMER, LETS GO HOME” & AS WE PASSED OVER THE TARGET I COULD SEE A SERIES OF EXPLOSIONS, FIRES BURNING & SEARCHLIGHTS TRYING TO PICK US UP, VERY LITTLE “FLACK” SUGGESTING THAT THERE WERE A NUMBER OF NIGHT FIGHTERS ABOUT. I REPORTED THIS TO THE SKIPPER. HE SAID “KEEP YOUR EYES WELL PEELED GUNNERS. THE WORST IS BEHIND US.” WE HAD A QUIET JOURNEY BACK. LANDED. REPORTED IN & WENT TO BREAKFAST. ALL OUR CREWS WERE BACK SAFELY AFTER WHAT WAS A RELATIVELY EASY TRIP. BUT AS ONE OLD CREW SAID IT DOESNT HAPPEN OFTEN, COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS BREAKFAST WAS A GOOD FRY UP AND SUDDENLY I WAS TIRED & SURPRISED TO SEE IT GETTING LIGHTER IT WAS 6 AM THE TRIP HAD TAKEN 5 hours NO REPORTING UNTIL 12 NOON AND SO TO SLEEP. AS IT HAPPENED WE WERE NOT OPPERATIONAL [sic] AGAIN FOR OVER A WEEK, BUT THERE WAS NO SLACKING, WE STILL HAD TO PRACTICE AND WERE ALWAYS KEPT INFORMED OF DIFFERENT TECHNIQUES BEING USED. IF WE WEREN’T REQUIRED FOR FLYING WE COULD GO INTO GRIMSBY FOR CINEMA, PUBS & ENTERTAIN [missing words]
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[underlined] 13 [/underlined]
WHICH WAS USED BY THE RAF, AND NICKNAMED THE “MUCKY DUCK,” NOISEY & SMOKEY. IT WAS THERE THAT I FIRST MET UP WITH THE “YANKS”. WE GOT ON REASONABLY WELL ONCE WE WERE USED TO THEIR WAYS, BUT COULD NEVER UNDERSTAND WHY THE WHITES WOULD INSIST ON BLACKS BEING FORCED TO DRINK ELSE WHERE, AND ANY TROUBLE USUALLY AROSE BETWEEN THE TWO. BACK IN CAMP WE KEPT LOOKING AT THE OPPERATIONS [sic] BOARD AND AT LAST ON THE 18TH APRIL WE WERE DETAILED. OUR ROUTINE CHECKS OF THE AIRCRAFT WERE DONE AND ABOUT 8 pm WE HAD BRIEFING. THE TARGET WAS ROUEN. THE DOCKS & MARSHALLING YARDS. AGAIN EVERY THING WENT WELL. WE STAYED OUT OF TROUBLE, DID THE JOB AND CAME BACK TO BASE. TWO NIGHTS LATER WE WERE FLYING AGAIN, THIS TIME TO COLOGNE IN THE RHUR. THE HOT SPOT OF GERMANY. THE LARGE MUNITIONS FACTORIES OF KRUPPS & STEEL WORKS WERE ALL ALLONG [sic] THE RHUR. WELL DEFENDED. THIS TIME IT WAS NO JOY RIDE. WE SAW IT ALL. SEARCHLIGHTS “FLACK” AND THE AIRCRAFT TOSSED ABOUT BY NEAR SHELL BURSTS. NO DAMAGE TO WORRY ABOUT. WE SAW OTHER AIRCRAFT BEING ATTACKED BY NIGHT FIGHTERS & GO DOWN IN FLAMES. THE TARGET WAS ONE MASS OF FIRES & BOMB BURSTS. IT SEEMED ENDLESS. BUT EVENTUALLY WE WERE THROUGH, BOMBS DROPPED & TARGET BEHIND US. THE SKIPPER CHECKED EVERY ONE WAS O.K. APPOLOGISED [sic] FOR THE BUMPY RIDE & SAID “I’LL BUY YOU ALL A BEER WHEN WE GET BACK”[missing words]
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[underlined] 14 [/underlined]
A COUPLE OF SCARES FROM NIGHT FIGHTERS, BUT MANAGED TO EVADE THEM AND LOSE OURSELVES INTO THE DARK NIGHT SKY. THE C/O HAD BEEN RIGHT, IT HAD BEEN PRETTY WARM FLYING NO NEED FOR COKE FIRES. TWO NIGHTS LATER WE WERE IN THE RHUR AGAIN TO DUSSELDORF. MUCH THE SAME HAPPENED, BUT WE RETURNED O.K. NO DAMAGE. THEN KARLSRUHE A COUPLE OF NIGHTS LATER, WE HAD A BIT OF DAMAGE, BUT MADE IT HOME, BUT THAT WAS A LONG TRIP AND TOOK 6 1/2 hours. MOST OF IT TRYING TO KEEP OUT OF TROUBLE, WE HAD TO PICK UP ANOTHER AIRCRAFT FOR OUR NEXT FLIGHT TO ESSEN ON THE 26TH APRIL. BY NOW WE HAD EXPERIENCED IT ALL. EVERYTHING THAT COULD HAPPEN AND THOUGHT WE WERE BEING LUCKY TO GET AWAY WITH IT. WE HAD DEVELOPED A GOOD WORKING SYSTEM BETWEEN US GUNNERS WHICH KEPT US OUT OF THE WORST OF IT. THE REST OF THE CREW ALWAYS CAME AND SAID THANKS ON LANDING GEORGE WOULD HAVE PREFERED MORE ACTION. ON THE 27TH WE WERE BRIEFED FOR FRIEDRICHAFEN AFTER ABOUT 30 MINUTES ONE ENGINE BEGAN SIEZING UP AND HAD TO BE CUT, THE SKIPPER SAID WE WOULD HAVE TO GO BACK. GEORGE WANTED TO CARRY ON ON [sic] THREE ENGINES BUT RON WAS AGAINST IT & TO GEORGES DISGUST TURNED THE PLANE ROUND AND HEADED HOME. RON RADIOD [sic] BASE & WAS TOLD TO JETTISON THE BOMB LOAD OVER THE NORTH SEA. THIS WAS DONE AND WE [missing words]
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[underlined] 15 [/underlined]
ENGINE WAS PLAYING UP, SO IT WAS A RELIEF TO PUT FOOT ON LAND. ON THE 30TH APRIL WE WERE BRIEFED FOR A TRIP TO MAINTENON MARSHALLING YARDS IN FRANCE THIS TIME A NEW TECHNIQUE WAS TO BE USED. WE WERE INSTRUCTED TO ARRIVE AT THE TARGET AREA AT A GIVEN TIME. TARGET INDICATORS WERE BEING DROPPED (YELLOW FLARES) AND WE WERE TO CIRCLE UNTIL ORDERED TO OUR SPECIAL TARGET (GREEN FLARES) OTHER AIRCRAFT WERE GIVEN (BLUE FLARES OR RED FLARES TO BOMB ON. EVERYTHING WENT ACCORDING TO PLAN AND THIS WAS THE BEGINING [sic] ON THE PATHFINDER TECHNIQUE AND PROVED A GREAT SUCCESS FOR PINPOINT BOMBING. THE AIRCRAFT USED WERE THE MOSQUITO’S WITH A 2 MAN CREW THEY WERE FANTASTIC. THERE WAS, HOWEVER, TO BE A SERIOUS SET BACK A FEW DAYS LATER A PERIOD OF FULL MOON HAD JUST BEGUN, AND USUALLY THAT MEANT A STAND DOWN. WE WERE THEREFOR [sic] SUPRISED [sic] ON THE 3RD MAY TO SEE THE ROSTA UP FOR EVENING OPS. AND OUR CREW DETAILED. WE DID OUR USUAL CHECKS IN THE MORNING. EVERYTHING O.K AND THEN BRIEFING ABOUT 8 PM. WE WERE INFORMED THAT THE TARGET WAS MAILLY-LE-CAMP IN FRANCE JUST SOUTH OF PARIS. THIS WAS A GERMAN PANZER TANK TRAINING CAMP AND WITH THE IMPENDING INVASION WAS BETTER DESTROYED. THERE WAS TO BE TWO TARGETS. WITH OUR NEIGHBOUGHS, [sic] GROUP 5 TAKING THE FIRST. OUR GROUP [missing words]
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[underlined] 16 [/underlined]
TO DROP TARGET INDICATORS AND EACH GROUP TOLD WHEN TO ATTACK AND WHAT COLOUR FLARE TO BOMB ON. GROUP 5 ARRIVED AND CIRCLED ON YELLOW MARKERS UNTIL GIVEN THE ORDER TO BOMB. THIS THEY DID SUCCESSFULLY. GROUP I (OUR GROUP) ARRIVED, SOME A LITTLE EARLY AND WERE INSTRUCTED TO CIRCLE OVER THE YELLOW MARKERS UNTIL GIVEN THE ORDER TO BOMB. IN THE MEANWHILE GERMAN FIGHTERS HAD ARRIVED AND GIVEN BRIGHT MOONLIGHT AND LANCASTERS FLYING AROUND IN CIRCLES, HAD EASY PREY. THE PATHFINDERS ORDERED THE PLANES TO KEEP THEIR POSITION AND THE AIR WAS BLUE WITH PILOTS REMONSTRATING, IT WAS PANDEMONIUM. OUR PLANE WAS APPROACHING THE AREA AT THE CORRECT TIME AND THE PILOT DECIDED TO CIRCLE SOME WAY AWAY FROM THE ACTION UNTIL WE HAD THE ORDER TO BOMB ON THE RED FLARE. THIS WAS ACCOMPLISHED WITH DUE HASTE AND ACCURACY. ONCE THROUGH THE TARGET WE WERE CONTINUALLY HARRASSED BY GERMAN FIGHTERS. ONE IN PARTICULAR CAME FROM AFAR AND I COULD SEE HIS TRACER BULLETS GOING OVER THE TOP OF US. AS HE GOT WITHIN RANGE I OPENED FIRE AND HE PEELED OFF. I KNOW SOME OF MY SHOT HIT HIM. HE WHEELED ROUND AND CAME IN AGAIN, WELL OUT OF MY RANGE. BUT AGAIN HIS TRACERS WERE HIGH AND I SAT THERE FULLY EXPECTING TO GET THE FULL IMPACT. OUR PILOT WAS TWISTING AND TURNING [missing words]
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[underlined] 17 [/underlined]
SUDDENLY HIS FIRING CEASED AND ROUND HE WENT AGAIN. THIS TIME HE JUST SAT OUT OF RANGE, WAGGLED HIS WINGS AND FLEW OFF. – WHY? – EITHER HE HAD RUN OUT OF AMMUNITION, OR HIS GUNS HAD JAMMED, EITHER WAY, IT WAS A RELIEF AND I SAID A FEW WORDS OF THANKS TO OUR GARDIAN [sic] ANGEL WE HAD OTHER ENCOUNTERS AFTER THAT BUT ARRIVED BACK WITH ONLY A FEW GASHES. ALL OUR OTHER CREWS ARRIVED BACK TO BASE AS WELL, AND HAD FARED [sic] IN THE SAME MANNER. OUR GROUPS LOSSES WERE 28 AIRCRAFT AND GROUP 5 LOST 14. WE WERE LUCKY BUT NONE OF US WOULD EVER EXPERIENCE ANYTHING LIKE IT AGAIN – OR FORGET IT – THE PATHFINDERS NEVER AGAIN MADE SUCH A MESS OF THINGS AND WENT ON TO BECOME A GREAT SUCCESS. THERE WAS A STORY THAT WENT AROUND SOME TIME AFTER. THE SPECIAL DUTIES FLIGHT AT BINBROOK UNDER COMMAND OF SQUADRON LEADER BILL BREAKSPEAR HAD BEEN AGAINST THE RAID BECAUSE OF THE BRIGHT MOON AND CLEAR SKY AND HAD SAID SO TO HARRIS, BUT HAD BEEN OVER RULED. AT THEIR NEXT MEETING BREAKSPEAR STORMED OUT OF THE ROOM WITHOUT SALUTING, HARRIS CALLED HIM BACK AND SAID “DON’T YOU SALUTE AIR CHIEF MARSHALLS” BREAKSPEAR REPLIED “NOT STUPID ONES – SIR,” HARRIS WAS NOT NAMED THE BUTCHER FOR NOTHING AND APPEARED NOT TO CARE ABOUT LOSSES OF MEN. AFTER MAILLY WE HAD A REST FOR A [missing words]
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[underlined] 18 [/underlined]
WHICH BY NOW WAS BECOMING A WAY OF LIFE RENNES (FRANCE) DIEPPE (FRANCE) ORLEANS (FRANCE DORTMUND, AACHEN (GERMANY) TWICE ACHERES (FRANCE THIS WAS ON THE 6TH JUNE (D. DAY). WE TOOK OFF JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT AND RETURNED 5 1/2 hrs LATER TO BE TOLD THAT BRITISH & ALLIED TROOPS HAD MADE A SUCCESSFUL LANDING IN FRANCE. ALL OPERATIONS AFTER THAT WERE TO FULLY SUPPORT GROUND TROOPS FLEURS (FRANCE) ON THE 9TH ACHERES (FRANCE) 10TH THEN ON THE 13TH JUNE CAME THE SHOCK. WE WERE TO BE POSTED TO 300 (POLISH) SQUADRON TOGETHER WITH 5 OTHER EXPERIENCED CREWS IT SEEMED THAT 300 SQUADRON WERE LOSING A LOT OF AIRCRAFT AND WAS UNDER STRENGTH NO ONE WANTED TO LEAVE KILLINGHOLME WE HAD BUILT UP A GOOD REPUTATION LOSSES WERE LOW MISSIONS WERE ACCOMPLISHED AND WEIGHT OF BOMBS PER AIRCRAFT WERE THE HIGHEST IN THE GROUP. HOWEVER, ORDERS WERE ORDERS AND WITH MUCH MISGIVINGS WE WENT TO FALDINGWORTH NEAR LINCOLN. WE ARRIVED AND WERE SHOWN OUR QUARTERS, SAME NISSEN HUTS SAME TYPE OF BEDS NO OTHER COMFORTS THEN TAKEN TO THE MESS FOR A MEAL. TO PUT IT MILDLY POLISH FOOD HAD LITTLE ATTRACTION FOR US AND WE SETTLED FOR A GOOD FRY UP OF EGGS AND BACON. WE MANAGED TO INSIST ON AN ENGLISH MENUE. [sic] THE AIRCRAFT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO FLY WERE A DISGRACE AND FALLING TO PIECES [missing words]
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[underlined] 19 [/underlined]
to FLY THEM AND OUR C/O BACKED US UP. WITHIN 2 DAYS WE HAD NEW LANCASTERS DELIVERED AND ON THE 14TH DID OUR FIRST OPERATION FOR 300 SQUADRON TO LE HAVRE. THE STATE OF THE OTHER AIRCRAFT THE POLES WERE FLYING GAVE US A GOOD IDEA WHY THEIR LOSSES WERE SO HIGH. BUT WITH OUR SUPPORT THINGS WERE TO CHANGE AND NEW AIRCRAFT ARRIVED ALMOST DAILY. THE POLES WERE A FRIENDLY LOT. VERY QUICK TO BUY A DRINK FOR THEIR ENGLISH FRIENDS, WE HAD BEEN WARNED NOT TO DISCUSS POLITICS, AS PART OF POLAND HAD BEEN HANDED OVER TO RUSSIA IN A DEAL BETWEEN ROOSEVELT CHURCHILL & STALIN. WE SETTLED IN VERY UNEASILY TO OUR NEW SQUADRON. MORE THOROUGH CHECKS ON EVERY NUT AND BOLT. WE DID OPPERATIONS [sic] TO AULNOYE (FRANCE) RHEIMS (FRANCE) AT THIS TIME LONDON WAS BEGINING [sic] TO GET ROCKET ATTACKS AND WE WERE SENT OUT WITH PATHFINDERS MARKING TARGETS, TO THE ROCKET SITES, THESE WERE MAINLY IN WOODLANDS HIDDEN BY TREES AND HEAVILY CAMAFLAGED [sic] WE STARTED DAILIGHT [sic] BOMBING. SOMETHING NEW FOR US. WE WERE USED TO BEING ON OUR OWN, NOT FLYING IN FORMATION. WHICH WAS FOR US, DOWNRIGHT DANGEROUS & DISPENSED WITH RIGHT FROM THE START. THE “YANKS” HAD OUR ADMIRATION FOR THE WAY THEY FLEW IN FORMATION AND IT WAS LAUGHABLE WHEN, AS [missing words]
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[underlined] 20 [/underlined]
IN PRETTY PATTERNS AND OUR STRAGGLY LOT ALL OVER THE PLACE. IT WAS ABOUT THIS TIME I WAS PROMOTED TO FLIGHT SERGEANT THIS MEANT A LITTLE EXTRA CASH AND WAS MOST WELCOME, AS VERY OFTEN WE HAD TO VISIT A RESTAURANT IN LINCOLN TO GET A DECENT MEAL. I BECAME QUITE A REGULAR CUSTOMER AT MRS HOLDEN’S FOR HER DELICIOUS CHICKEN LUNCH, AFTER WHICH AN EVENING IN THE SARACENS HEAD. OR AS IT WAS AFFECTIONALLY KNOWN “THE SNAKE PIT”. BY NOW THE 2ND FRONT WAS GETTING ESTABLISHED AND WE WERE ATTACKING TARGETS SUCH AS AULNOYE (MARSHALLING YARDS) RHEIMS (TROOP PLACEMENTS) SIRACOURT (ROCKETS) VIERZON (TROOPS) ORLEANS ROCKET LAUNCHERS IN DAYLIGHT, ALMOST EVERY DAY AND NIGHT WE WERE OUT. SOMETIMES RUNNING INTO FIGHTER AIRCRAFT, SOMETIMES HEAVY GUNFIRE BUT WE STEERED CLEAR OF TROUBLE. THEN CAME CAEN ON THE NORMANDY FRONT. THE BRITISH TROOPS WERE BEING HELD UP IN THEIR ADVANCE AND THE INSTRUCTIONS FOR US, WERE TO BOMB A VERY HEAVILY DEFENDED TOWN AND PANZER DIVISION. THE PATHFINDERS WERE TO GO IN FIRST AND DROP THEIR FLARES AND GIVE US INSTRUCTIONS ON WHICH COLOUR TO BOMB WE TOOK OFF AT 8 PM AND STILL VERY LIGHT WE COULD SEE ALL OUR OTHER LANCASTERS MAKING THEIR WAY TO DIFFERENT TARGETS, THERE WOULD BE 20-30 PLANES ON 1 COLOUR FLARE [missing words]
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[underlined] 21 [/underlined]
WAS STILL LIGHT. OUR USUAL BOMBING HEIGHT WAS 20,000 FT FOR THIS ONE WE STARTED OFF AT 10,000 FT. BUT BECAUSE OF CLOUD HAD TO DECEND UNTIL WE COULD SEE OUR FLARE. BOMBING HAD TO BE SPOT ON BECAUSE OF THE NEARNESS OF BRITISH TROOPS ON THE GROUND. WE COULD SEE THE HOUSES, TROOPS, EVERYTHING – ESPECIALLY OTHER AIRCRAFT CONVERGING ON THE SAME TARGET SOME LOWER SOME HIGHER, THOSE THAT WERE HIGHER WERE OPENING THEIR BOMB BAYS RIGHT OVER HEAD OF US, AND AS I HEARD OUR BOMB AIMER SAY “BOMBS GONE” I COULD SEE ABOUT 3 OTHERS HIGHER, RELEASING THEIRS. I JUST SAT THERE AND PRAYED. THE BOMBS WERE FALLING ONE AFTER THE OTHER AND THANKFULLY MISSED THE TAIL, BY HOW MUCH I DONT KNOW BUT IT LOOKED PRETTY CLOSE. OUR LOSSES DURING THAT TRIP WERE PUT DOWN TO OUR OWN. WE WERE TO DO A COUPLE MORE TRIPS LIKE THAT. ON ONE WE EVEN GOT DOWN TO 1500 FT WHICH WAS VERY, VERY LOW. THEN ON THE 31ST JULY WE WERE TO DO OUR 30TH TRIP AND THE LAST ONE OF OUR FIRST TOUR. THEN ON TO 14 DAYS LEAVE. WE TRIED NOT TO THINK ABOUT IT UNTIL WE HAD OUT FOOT ON ENGLISH SOIL AGAIN, THIS TIME A ROCKET SITE. NO HASSEL. [sic] NO FLACK. NO FIGHTERS ONLY ON THE RETURN DID AN ENGINE PACK IN, AND WE HAD TO LAND AT A DIFFERENT BASE. WE WERE DEBRIEFED, AND WHEN THEY HEARD IT WAS OUR [missing words]
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[underlined] 22 [/underlined]
THE AIRCREWS CAME OUT. IT WAS ABOUT 3 AM IN THE MORNING. WE HAD A BIT OF A PARTY BUT WE WERE LOOKED UPON LIKE FREAKS THE QUESTIONS WE WERE ASKED, IT WAS ALL A BIT OVERPOWERING. NEXT MORNING WE WERE NOT ALLOWED TO FLY BACK TO BASE THEY SENT A CAR TO TRANSPORT US AND A FRESH CREW TO TAKE OUR PLANE. ON ARRIVAL BACK AT FALDINGWORTH WE WERE DROPPED OFF AT THE C/O’S OFFICE TAKEN IN HAD A SHOT OF WHISKEY WITH HIM, SHOOK HANDS AND TOLD THAT ON THE FOLLOWING DAY WE WERE TO START OUR LEAVE. GET EVERY THING PACKED. THAT EVENING WE MET UP AS A CREW FOR THE LAST TIME. HAD A DRINK OR TWO AND SAID OUR CHEERIO’S. THE FOLLOWING MORNING RON, OUR PILOT & I WENT TO LINCOLN STATION CHANGED TRAINS AT PETERBOROUGH AND HENCE TO LONDON. THERE HE WENT OFF TO BRIGHTON & I TO TWICKENHAM.
JOB DONE, - NONE OF US MET UP AGAIN.
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TAILENDERS END TALES.
[circled 1] IT WAS DURING OCTOBER 43 THAN [sic] OUR PILOT CALLED A CREW MEETING. HIS OPENING WORDS WERE “WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER LONG ENOUGH, I TAKE IT THAT WE ARE HAPPY WITH THE WAY WE OPPERATE [sic] TOGETHER”. WE ALL AGREED. HE CARRIED ON. “AS I SEE IT. I AM JUST THE DRIVER. ART (NAVIGATOR) GIVES ME THE COURSE. I FLY IT OVER THE TARGET. DAVE (BOMAIMER) [sic] GIVES ME DIRECTIONS. – I FLY IT -. KEN. [deleted] YOU [/deleted] I RELY ON YOU TO GIVE ME CORRECT MESSAGES THAT COME OVER THE RADIO. AND I ACT ON IT. BILL. – AS GUNNER, YOU ARE OUR EYES. ANY TIME YOU SEE WE ARE BEING ATTACKED, YOU GIVE ME DIRECTIONS FOR EVASIVE ACTION. – STRAIGHT AWAY. ALL OF YOU, TELL ME, I WILL FOLLOW YOUR ORDERS WITHOUT QUESTION OR HESITATION. – ANY QUESTIONS NOW.” DURING PRACTICE RON & I EVOLVED A SERIES OF MANOEVERS [sic] FOR EVASIVE ACTION. THAT THEY WORKED WAS ONLY DUE TO THE WAY THE LANCASTER WAS BUILT.
[circled 2] ONE NIGHT WHILST ON A TRAINING FLIGHT WE RAN INTO AN ELECTRICAL STORM. LIGHTENING FLASHED AND THE AIRCRAFT WAS TOSSED ABOUT BUT WHAT WAS MOST FRIGHTENING WAS THE WAY SPARKS WERE LEAPING FROM ONE METAL OBJECT TO ANOTHER. RUNNING THE LENGTH OF THE GUN BARRELL AND ALL ROUND THE TURRET I WAS GLAD WHEN WE WERE OUT OF IT.
[circled 3] ON SQUADRON THE GROUND CREW WERE FANTASTIC
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THE SERGEANT WAS THERE IN THE MORNINGS AND THERE WHEN WE TOOK OFF AT NIGHT. – AND THERE AGAIN ON OUR RETURN, WHEN HE SLEPT I DONT KNOW. BUT THEY WERE DEDICATED TO GIVING US THE BEST SERVICE.
[circled 4] OUR SQUADRON BASE AT KILLINGHOLME WAS CLOSE TO THE HUMBER RIVER. THE PORT OF HULL ONE SIDE AND GRIMSBY THE OTHER. VERY OFTEN BOTH PLACES WERE SUBJECTED TO HEAVY BOMBING BY THE GERMAN AIR FORCE. QUITE OFTEN THESE RAIDS CO-INCIDED WITH OUR TAKE OFF TIME, SO THAT BOTH AIRFORCES WERE IN THE AIR OVER GRIMSBY AT THE SAME TIME AND WE WERE OFTEN CAUGHT UP IN OUR OWN SEARCHLIGHTS. WITH THE NEXT GROUP OF SEARCHLIGHTS HOLDING A GERMAN BOMBER IN ITS BEAMS. WE HAD TO SIGNAL IN MORSE TO THE GROUND FOR THEM TO SWITCH OFF.
[circled 5] DURING THE TRIP ON AACHEN AT THE END OF MAY, ART, OUR NAVIGATOR ANNOUNCED THAT HE WAS ALWAYS SO BUSY PLOTTING THE NEXT COURSE AFTER THE TARGET, THAT HE HAD NEVER THE CHANCE TO SEE THE TARGET. THE NAVIGATORS CUBBY HOLE WAS ALL SHUT IN BECAUSE HE HAD TO HAVE LIGHT TO WORK BY. ON THIS TRIP HE DECLARED HE WOULD GIVE THE PILOT THE COURSE TO FOLLOW BEFORE HAND. SWITCH HIS LIGHTS OUT AND SEE WHAT WENT ON. THIS HE DID. IT HAPPENED THAT IT WAS A HECTIC NIGHT. AND THE FIREWORK DISPLAY WAS BRILLIANT. WE HEARD ART GASP. [missing words]
[page break]
I WOULDN’T HAVE COME.” I DONT THINK HE PEEKED OUT AGAIN.
[circled 6] 3RD MAY. THE PERIOD OF FULL MOON. WE TOOK OFF CLIMBED THROUGH BILLOWING WHITE CLOUD AT 10,000 FT INTO FULL MOONLIGHT. THE SIGHT WAS BREATHTAKING THE MOON SHONE ON THE CLOUDS LIKE DRIFTS OF SNOW. YOU COULD SEE FOR MILES, LANCASTERS ALL OVER THE SKY. OUR PILOT WAS SO CARRIED AWAY AT THE BEAUTY OF IT, HE FLEW THE AIRCRAFT LIKE A SLEIGH, SKIMMING THE TOPS OF THE CLOUDS AND WHOOPING LIKE A COWBOY. IT WAS INDEED A GRAND SIGHT. PITY IT WAS GOING TO BE SPOILT LATER THAT NIGHT.
[circled 7] AFTER WE HAD FINISHED OUR TOUR AND THE CREW HAD GONE OUR DIFFERENT WAYS, I WAS TO BE POSTED TO BRIDGENORTH AS INSTRUCTOR. IT WAS THERE THAT I WAS INFORMED THAT I WAS ELIGIBLE FOR 2 SERVICE MEDALS. THE 1939/45 STAR. AND THE AIRCREW EUROPE STAR AND CLASP. MY THOUGHTS IMMEDIATELY WENT TO GEORGE. HE MUST HAVE LAUGHED HIS SOCKS OFF.
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Bill Freeman's Service Career
Description
An account of the resource
A detailed account of Bill's time in the RAF, starting with drill at Lords, training at Bridlington and Bridgnorth then RAF Stormy Down. He passed the course and after seven days leave reported to Hixon for crewing up. He discusses training and his social life. He then transferred to Binbrook then Blyton, Hemswell, Elsham Wolds and N Killingholme.
He describes individual operations in detail. He and his crew were transferred to Faldingworth where the condition of their aircraft was poor. These were quickly replaced with new aircraft. His crew were successful and survived their 30 operations never to meet up again.
He concludes his memoir with seven tailender tales.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Bill Freeman
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. Memoir
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
25 handwritten sheets
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BFreemanWFreemanWv1
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--London
England--Brighton
England--Dewsbury
Canada
England--Stafford
Wales--Tredegar
England--Northampton
England--Grimsby
France--Rouen
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Essen
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Karlsruhe
Denmark--Frederikshavn
France--Maintenon
France--Mailly-le-Camp
France--Rennes
France--Dieppe
France--Orléans
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Aachen
France--Paris
England--Lincoln
France--Le Havre
Poland
France--Pas-de-Calais
France--Caen
France--Vierzon
France
Germany
Denmark
France--Reims
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Northamptonshire
England--Yorkshire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Staffordshire
England--Sussex
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription. Under review
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Tricia Marshall
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943-04-05
1944-03
1944-04-10
1 Group
1662 HCU
300 Squadron
5 Group
550 Squadron
air gunner
Air Gunnery School
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
bomb aimer
bombing
Bombing of Mailly-le-Camp (3/4 May 1944)
bombing of the Le Havre E-boat pens (14/15 June 1944)
briefing
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
crewing up
entertainment
flight engineer
George Cross
ground crew
Halifax
Harris, Arthur Travers (1892-1984)
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
mess
military living conditions
military service conditions
Morse-keyed wireless telegraphy
Mosquito
navigator
Nissen hut
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
Pathfinders
pilot
RAF Binbrook
RAF Blyton
RAF Bridgnorth
RAF Bridlington
RAF Elsham Wolds
RAF Faldingworth
RAF Hemswell
RAF Hixon
RAF North Killingholme
RAF Stormy Down
searchlight
Stalin, Joseph (1878-1953)
tactical support for Normandy troops
target indicator
training
Wellington
Window
wireless operator
-
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Fellowes, David
David Fellowes
Dave Fellowes
D Fellowes
Description
An account of the resource
Eight items. Two oral history interviews with Flight Sergeant David "Dave" Fellowes (Royal Air Force), documents and a photograph. He flew operations as a rear gunner with 460 Squadron.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by David Fellowes 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
2014-11-25
2015-04-06
2016-08-08
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
Fellowes, D
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[underlined] OPERATION MANNA [/underlined] [inserted] by David Fellowes [/inserted]
[underlined] 29th April – 8th May 1945, [/inderlined]
The advance of the 1st Polish Armoured Division liberated the eastern parts of the Netherlands, resulting in a very large area in the west still in the hands of the German army. Earlier the Reichskommissar, an Austrian, Arthur Seyss-Inquart imposed an embargo on food supplies for western urban areas. Food stocks in the thickly populated west had already been reduced by German order, leaving insufficient food to help the people through the winter of 44/45. A shortage of coal and other fuels aggrevated [sic] the situation.
In mid January 1945 Queen Wilhelmina sent identical notes to King George VI, President Roosevelt and Winston Churchill, saying in effect ‘That if a major catastrophe was to be avoided drastic action had to be taken before and not after the liberation of the rest of the country’. An Allied invasion of western occupied Holland was considered too costly so representatives of the Dutch resistance were allowed to cross the lines and contact the Allies. Following negotiations the Germans would be willing to negotiate and on April 14th Prince Bernhard travelled to Reims to discuss the Allied answer with General Eisenhower. Churchill was opposed to negotiations with the Germans. South African Prime Minister Field Marshal Smuts mediation allowed direct negotiations with the Germans. Ten days later the Governments of the USA, USSR and the UK allowed Eisenhower to contact Seyss-Inquart the German Governor of Occupied Holland. The same day April 24th the Dutch people were advised by radio that food drops were about to begin. The Germans were forced to co-operate, that to assure themselves of POW status was to obey completely, any acts of sabotage would be considered a war crime and treated as war criminals. The Germans were not impressed and angry as all arrangements had been made without prior consultation and were suspicious of Anglo-US action, but broadcast to the Dutch people on the 25th April that the German military commander agreed to General Eisenhower’s plan to supply food to Occupied Holland, but not by the means suggested. Eisenhower ordered the food drops to start on the 27th April whatever the German reaction. On the day previous the German Governor Seyss-Inquart agreed the fastest way to save the Ducth was to send food supplies by air.
The weather on the 27th April prevented the Lancaster bombers from taking off. On the 28th April in the school building in Achteveld German and Allied representatives, including Air-Commodore Andrew Geddes the Air Commodore Operations and Plans of the 2nd Tactical Air Force met to establish as many ‘drop zones’ as possible and overcome any German objections. General Sir Francis De Guingand, Montgomery’s Chief of Staff headed the meeting and advised the Germans the object of the meeting was to come to an
[page break]
agreement as to how the Allies could best help the Dutch as they, the Germans, were unable to do so. Reichrichter Dr. Ernst Schwebel headed the four man German delegation and said his terms of reference did not include making any detailed arrangements for feeding the Dutch, but to make arrangements for the Reichskommisar Seyss-Inquart to meet General Eisenhower or his representative at an agreed place on Monday 30th April. General De Guingand went through is [sic] proposals to the German delegates, Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands a ‘Linch Pin’ in the complex organisation of the distribution of food to points inside occupied territory advised General De Guingand who then concluded that the next meeting would be held at 13.00 hours on April 30th 1945 and that Lt. Gen Bedell Smith would lead the delegation.
The next day at 08.00 hours 29th April hundreds of Dutch people in hiding listened to the ‘Voice of Freedom’ Radio Resurgent Netherlands with a special announcement that aircraft would come to drop coloured flares the other aeroplanes would drop the food, at 12.10 hours another special announcement reported the first aircraft carrying food for occupied Holland had left Britain. OPERATION MANNA had begun.
That day 29th April the RAF took an enormous risk, no agreement had been signed, as the Lancaster bombers approached occupied Holland at very low height 150-1000 feet they would have been easy prey for the many ACK-ACK guns the enemy could still use. If the Germans opened fire and killed hundreds of RAF crews they would have been in their right to do so. The RAF Commanders, the pilots and their crews knew it, the German reaction would be legitimate. However, the start of this life-saving operation was a success and 239 Lancasters dropped 556 tons of food.
The following day 30th April at the school in Achterveld General Bedell Smith met Seyss-Inquart, Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands and Air Commodore Geddes participated in the negotiations and following discussions of sub-committees in various class-rooms the two delegations finally reached an agreement. At the same time 482 Lancasters dropped 1005 tons of food again with the knowledge that the agreement had not been signed. The next day 1st May Air-Commodore Geddes and Group Captain Hill with copies of the agreement in English and German met German delegates in the village of Nude. Following the signing of four copies in each language and two marked maps showing the drop zones each side returned to their own lines at 19.00. Air Commodore Geddes advised that the agreement had been satisfactorily signed. Thus the operation which had already started on the 29th April could officially begin on May 2nd. However, on that day the 1st of May the RAF dropped 1096 tons with 488 Lancasters. The 8th Bomber Group of the USAAF with B17’s using the code name Chowhound dropped 776 tons with 392 aircraft. The operation continued by the RAF until the 8th May and
[page break]
the 8th Air Force on the 7th May. The number of flights made by the RAF was 3154 dropping 7030 tons, the 8th Air Force made 2189 flights dropping 4156 short tons.
Operation Manna was carried out by RAF Bomber Commands No.1, No.3 and No.8 Groups using Lancasters and Mosquitos. This highly successful operation perpetuated by Bomber Command gave life and hope to millions of starving Dutch people held in the German Occupied area of West Holland.
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
Operation Manna
Description
An account of the resource
Details of events leading to Operation Manna.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
David Fellowes
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
France
Netherlands
France--Reims
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
United States Army Air Force
Language
A language of the resource
eng
nld
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Personal research
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Three typewritten sheets
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
SFellowesD[Ser#-DoB]v100005-0001, SFellowesD[Ser#-DoB]v100005-0002, SFellowesD[Ser#-DoB]v100005-0003
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Steve Baldwin
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1945
1 Group
3 Group
8 Group
anti-aircraft fire
B-17
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
George VI, King of Great Britain (1895-1952)
Lancaster
Mosquito
Operation Manna (29 Apr – 8 May 1945)
Second Tactical Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1901/35228/MRobertsEJH[See -DoB]-170712-02.pdf
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Roberts, E J H
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
Roberts, EJH
Description
An account of the resource
50 items. The collection concerns E J H Roberts DFC (408451 Royal Air Force) and contains maps, documents, news clippings and photographs. He flew operations as a bomb aimer with 61 Squadron.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Carole Grant 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
Nos Aviations
Description
An account of the resource
Victoires de la RAF en 1943
Air Marshal Sir Richard Peck describes large composition and successes of RAF during 1943 whilst underlining the threat still posed by Germany.
Les machines
Maintains Anglo-American aircraft production is four times better than their opponents; combining skills and resources is highly beneficial.
Les hommes
Through the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan, men from different countries trained in Canada, with the training spreading out to other countries.
Bomber Command
Main aim is to weaken the enemy’s war potential and open the way for the liberation armies.
Les barrages de la Ruhr
Describes the dawn operation by Lancasters on 17th May 1943, which destroyed the Möhne and Eder dams in the Ruhr Valley, using mines.
10,000 tonnes Hambourg
11 days of raids put Hamburg and its naval port out of action with 70% of the town destroyed or damaged.
Berlin 30,000 tonnes
As the main industrial hub and centre of Nazism, Berlin was one of the RAF’s main targets with many factories destroyed or damaged.
Les éclaireurs
Pathfinder Force, commanded by Air Vice-Marshal Bennett, was created in August 1942. They marked targets with flares to improve bombing accuracy.
Coastal Command
Important role played by aircraft in the Battle of the Atlantic, finding and attacking German submarines, and protecting allied ships.
Fighter Command
After four years, Fighter Command disbanded and split into defence and tactical aviation.
Transport Command
Created in 1943 to transport equipment from American and British production centres to operational bases and bases on the front.
D’El-Alamein en Italie
Campaigns from Africa to Italy have seen the air force and army leaders thinking and acting as one to maximum effect. Grip tightening on German industry.
Les ailes franco-brittaniques
Air Brigade General Martial Valin, commanding the Free French Air Force in Britain, outlines the positive Franco-British relationships and training provided. The Air Force’s different groups are described and how structures were effectively reformed, including in North Africa.
Normandie en Russie
Runs through the activities of the Normandy group on the Russian front during 1943, from training to successful operations. The Russians have shown friendship and esteem.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
France
Germany
Canada
Ontario--Trenton
Germany--Essen
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Nuremberg
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Wuppertal
Germany--Peenemünde
Germany--Bochum
Germany--Mülheim an der Ruhr
Germany--Kassel
Germany--Elberfeld
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Augsburg
Germany--Berlin
Italy
Egypt--Alamayn
Libya--Tripoli
Tunisia--Tunis
Italy--Sicily
Italy--Pantelleria Island
Russia (Federation)
Russia (Federation)--Smolensk
France--Limoges
Tunisia
Libya
Egypt
North Africa
Ontario
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Air Force. Coastal Command
Royal Air Force. Fighter Command
Royal Navy
British Army
Royal Air Force. Transport Command
Free French Air Force
Language
A language of the resource
fra
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
48 sheet booklet
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MRobertsEJH[See#-DoB]-170712-02
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Sally Coulter
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription. Other languages than English
aerial photograph
aircrew
B-17
B-24
B-25
B-26
Beaufighter
Bennett, Donald Clifford Tyndall (1910-1986)
bombing
Boston
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
Eder Möhne and Sorpe operation (16–17 May 1943)
Gibson, Guy Penrose (1918-1944)
Halifax
Hudson
Lancaster
Mosquito
P-51
Pathfinders
pilot
propaganda
reconnaissance photograph
Spitfire
Stirling
Sunderland
target indicator
training
Typhoon
York
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2095/34805/SRAFIngham19410620v090001-Audio.2.mp3
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Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
RAF Ingham Heritage Group. Wanda Szuwalska
Description
An account of the resource
Three items. An oral history interview with Wanda Szuwalska and two photographs. She served as a WAAF at RAF Ingham.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-11-14
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
RAF Ingham
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
GB: Right, we’re on record, good. [Background conversation]
Int: That’s right, yes.
GB: Good, lovely.
WS: I’m having a good look, Halifax, Lancaster.
GB: The only problem, is I’m going to have to come over here cause otherwise you’ll be looking, you won’t be looking straight at the camera.
Int: Right.
WS: Yes. I’m all right, like that?
GB: Lovely, thank you. Yes’ you’re okay.
Int: Smashing, that’s good.
GB: Oh, superb. Right, good morning Wanda, could you first of all tell us please what your name is, where you were born and your date of birth please?
WS: My name is Wanda Szuwalska, I am been born in Poland, in a part of Poland that is Ukraine now, near Lvov, and my date of birth is 18th of January 1923.
GB: Lovely. And could you tell us a little bit about what happened before you came to Great Britain, could you tell us how you got from Poland to Great Britain.
WS: War started on the 1st of September, 1st of September 1939. Britain joined the war 3rd of September, 1939. Hitler advance on Poland, but we had a pact, with England, Poland had a pact with England and with Russia, that they will not invade us and when Hitler advanced, of course our forces were not so strong, Polish forces was not so strong, and they been backing towards the east border of Poland. Unfortunately, we didn’t know anything about it. On the 5th, 17th of September 1939, Stalin Soviet Army advanced to Poland and all our forces were at that border and it took everybody, just, it took hundred to, hundred and twenty thousand Polish soldier would been killed in 1940 at the Katyn Woods in Russia and that’s why we have got plaque in [indecipherable] about this, Polish Army. Now all the other Polish people, just ordinary Polish people - I was born on a farm, we had a farm, big farm and so on - been taken to Russian prison camp. On the 10th of February 1940, that was the first, they took first part of Poland and then in April the same year, 1940, they took the rest of Polish people, about probably about over a million Polish people went to the Russian prison camp, to Siberia, and we been working there on the river doing the hard work in the woods, and on the river. It was terrible when they took us from home, they gave us, they, soldiers came, Soviet soldiers came to our house and say half an hour, get ready, we are taking to the station and you are going somewhere that your life will be better. We didn’t know anything. We had to pack in half an hour. There was five of us, my mother and father: seven people. My youngest brother was eight years old. Well, it’s very difficult to describe how the panic, half an hour to get ready, and it was three o’clock at night, in the morning. We went to this train, it was the goods train, and we been packed for about thirty people in one wagon and we, on those train we went to Russia. We travel about six weeks. We been get, we had some food because we took some food from home, on the way there we been given some hot water. And in that train we had to sleep one next to other, it wasn’t any beds or anything like that, or some blankets, and there was iron stove in the middle of the train and there was a hole in the floor, and the was the hole in the floor in that train was the toilet. And the iron stove, that’s what we could cook something on. Then I arrive to the town Kotlas, and from, the train didn’t go any further and we been put on the sledges, because it was winter, and along river Dvina we went track, pull with the horses, we went to the north like to Arkhangelsk. On the way there was a barrack built on this riverside, banks, and so many people were dropped at one place and then few miles later was another place, and we all disperse in there and we work there. We had nothing. When our food finished, what we took with home, we been only getting a slice of bread, those who don’t work, and we been paid very little to work. My father went to work, my mother couldn’t because, and I was already six, seventeen, sixteen, seventeen and I went to work just to have this one kilogram of bread, not a slice, one kilogram. And we didn’t know what happen, we had no contact with anybody. And suddenly, in 1940, the end of 1940, Hitler advance on Russia and Russia were not prepared to do it so ask England, Mr Churchill, to help. And our diplomats here in London, Mr Sikorsky, and our President was here, Raczkiewicz, they said to Mr Churchill tell Stalin to release all those people who he’s got in Russia’s prison camp and they will be the best [emphasis] people to fight Hitler. And Stalin went to it and we been released. From the prison camps in Siberia, all of them, all of us, and there was General Anders who also was in the prison was also released and he started to make the Army so we can fight Hitler. And we been left on our own then. Going there to Siberia we had these soldiers to take us there and tell us what to do, but when we were released, released, we were left on our own, we had to find a way to go down the south of Russia, near the river Amu Darya, Tashkent, there was Uzbekistan this way right from north to there. We travel on our own, on the trains. We couldn’t buy the ticket because we had no money. But the Russian people, people from the street, they were very helpful; they were not our enemy because a lot of things happen during the Russia different part of thing, they been move people and thing, so they help us and very often there was a good train and the train driver said yes, when you find room just jump in and took us. It was absolutely, people was lost on the way. I know my friend mother, she fell off the train and took arm off and she didn’t have one arm. Eventually we arrive there, where the Polish Army was formed. Now the Army had to have a uniform and the army had to have food; British government supply it all. We were all put into the uniform, British uniforms, and we had food there. Now there was our families who join us, whoever could join, was seventeen years old could join. What about the families? Older people? So naturally British Government also took charge of it, and being a dominion like India, Africa and things like that, all British government, took all the civilian people to make the camps in those parts of India or Africa, which is Rhodesia and other, Uganda and things like that and then we had the training and I was going to fight. So from Russia, to Caspian Sea we all travel to Persia - which is Iran now - and the camps were set in Tehran, which is the capital of Persia, and from then been taken all over the place, and military people move to Egypt, Syria, to Palestine. I was in Palestine for about six months training, in a uniform, Army uniform, British Army uniform, and then we were going to be ready, train, to go to Italy, travel because the war start to advance. And at that time it was beginning of 1943 when the Royal Air Force lost so many people and there was appeal to join, and I was advised by my relative to join WAAFs, to go to England, and I, and I did. After we travel, we travel through Suez Canal to Alexandria and to Mediterranean Sea, Gibraltar Strait, that was our first transport and was a big ship which wounded British soldier were coming to England, and we joined that ship [indecipherable] and this is the very funny thing to say, while we were getting a bit of money in the Army, and living in Palestine, all the girls bought probably silk stockings, and silk underwear and probably perfume because that what we didn’t have for years and when we were going through Gibraltar Strait there was a first transport there was still U-boat would be there and we been advised to put a swimming things. Oh girls, what we are going to do with all the lovely things we bought? So we decided to put everything on and what about perfume? We put about shark would not like it and they take us from the water we won’t lose those lovely things that we crave! You know, once we got that, that is the funny part, because when you are eighteen, war or not war, you just think positive, you, you not frightened at all, you laugh, you haven’t got, you take the best part of it. So we travel, and we also advised, I have to tell you this, this is bit probably funny. We’d been advised, in Army, that going to England, very, the best country in the world, everybody educated, everybody so sophisticated and English ladies are very attractive, very slim – not fat - and after the Russian prison camp when we got the food in the Army we got a little bit of fat on. You have to lose your fat and we all got a lipstick, to put the lipstick so we don’t look different than English ladies. We all had a picture you know, even in, before the war in Poland, we come to very highly intelligent country and all the ladies are lovely dress and gentlemen with hat, and walking stick and so on. Okay. We arrive about five o’clock in the morning to Liverpool.
GB: Can I just stop you, just for one moment? I’ve just realised – we’ll leave the thing running – is it, is that still in focus?
Int: Yes.
GB: I’ve realised that I should have had.
WS: Do you mind if I say all funny things in between? [Cough]
Int: That’s lovely, yes, yes.
WS: [Cough] Because that kept us going, those little things.
GB: The funny things are the best because it’s, you’re just, it’s not like a documentary where you’re just giving information, you’re actually putting your personal side of things on to it. I forgot to put this; this is a separate recorder just for your voice, and I’ve got to remember how it works.
Int: Yes, that was, the adventure, when you are that age, when you’re a teenager, it’s an adventure in a way.
WS: Yes, it was little things very important to us! [Rustling] You know, I have to tell you about this arriving to England. We had to put all the lipstick.
GB: I think that’s incredible, cause we -
WS: And put the hair so we look the same as the English sophisticated ladies!
Int They’re the interesting things because the history has been so well documented that people know a lot of it, but it’s the little things like that are so [emphasis] interesting.
GB: Can you?
WS: Yes, you can take that.
GB: If I put that there? Can you actually see that on the camera cause ideally we don’t want to see that. Is that visible or not?
Int: You can’t see that, no.
GB: You can’t see it.
Int: No.
GB: Right. All this is the latest technology is very, very good.
WS: Yes, okay.
GB: So just move those out the way. So this will record as well, right, let’s see. If I press that.
WS: Okay?
GB: Mmm. Okay. [Pause] Don’t you just love it when it doesn’t happen. Why is it not happening? C’mon. [Pause]
WS: Yes, like technology.
GB: It is technology! Right, that’s probably it now, I think. Right, if I press. Right, we’re now up and running.
Int: We’ve got record have you?
GB: Lovely, great stuff. Right, sorry about that Wanda, could you just tell us when you arrived and where you arrived in England?
WS: And when we arrive about five o’clock in the morning to Liverpool, Liverpool, and then we were coming to get off the ship, and then the first English ladies we saw, [chuckle] it was the ladies who were coming to clean the ship, with the mop, bucket, curlers on the hair, [laughing] and the scarf curled round there and we couldn’t stop laughing because that what we been waiting to see, first English lady! Which of course we seen them later on, they were like we been told. But that was, the people are everywhere the same, they were working class people, they dress what they want to work, when they go to somewhere else to see, so that was very funny. And then from there, from Liverpool station, er, from Liverpool dock, we were taken by the train, to Scotland, near North Berwick, near Edinburgh. And we been put not in the camps, only in big houses. You’re probably too young and you don’t know, but all the big houses, England was so well organised during the war, that I couldn’t think of any other country, all the people [beep] in big houses been asked to give their houses for military people and they live, go and live with their relatives or something small. And that house was very, very big, probably six bedrooms or something like that and we live this, till everything was organised, and from there we went to Wilmslow near Manchester. It was a special training camp to train us to be, and to change us into new uniform, Air Force uniform, and train, everything. We had to learn English and drills and things like that. And from there we been posted to different station and I was posted to Faldingworth where was Polish, 300 Polish Squadron station. My job was there, just the general, Clerk General Duties and I had to do whenever there was something, I landed on the Flying Control, but not being on TR, to talk to the plane, my job on Flying Control at Faldingworth was, when the plane already landed, then my things was to say which dispersal I have to go, and things like that, which was a little job an ordinary, just glad to be on this one so it was very happy with this. But then I was posted from there, for some reason, on to Fighter Command near London, Stanmore, they wanted somebody there and I went there and my job was very good there because I was, every pilot had to, every month, to give their log book to the main office and their every hour of flight, whatever he do, had to be put in to the ledgers, that are still probably somewhere in the offices held back. So this was my job and I knew almost every pilot of the Fighter Command because they personally came to the office, some sent by post but most came personally. So I got the name and then I put them there and that was my duty till the war finished.
Int: Was that just the Polish fighters, or was that all the RAF?
WS: Only Polish, that was the Polish yes, because Polish had their own command, and the commander of the Polish Fighter Command was, I think he was General yes, Jerszy Byam, Jerszy Byam. He was very famous because he took a challenge in 1933, in Poland [indecipherable], it was you know, ’32, ‘33 that was still the years that the plane came round and I even have got hanging there this challenge wrote in this thing: you know this is my whole life I think that! So, then I work there all time, although my husband, which I met him at, we were not married yet, at Faldingworth, we still kept in contact. So at the end of the war I was, I travelled to, mostly I travelled to Faldingworth from London because we lived there in Stanmore, in a civil, in a billet, in houses, but when I came to Faldingworth they were barracks for all my friends and we decided to get married, and I’ve got some pictures. That’s my, there was a second marriage at the station, Faldingworth, in uniform. There is not very many probably marriages in uniform I dare say. Then the war finished and I had to go to civil life. Now, this is my er, you know, forces career, then the civil life comes to different completely story. But I must return to something else: I told you that when we been moving from Russia through Caspian Sea, I, we been on this big boat and then we are approaching a free country because Russia, we were approaching Persia - free country [indecipherable] – and everybody went on the top and everybody was singing and praying and something like that and we couldn’t, even if I tell you now I’ve got the goosebumps; I never forget that moment. And suddenly somebody screams look, this is the first of April, April Fool, I mean all [indecipherable] is that true? Because you know what is April Fool, and that’s why is so important as I say, at the moment, because we are so happy thinking we are going, being free and then suddenly somebody says 1st of April, that was 1st of April 1942, and everybody was so quiet. Is it a joke that we are moving from Russia? No of course, it wasn’t a joke, we just arrive there, but I thought I mention that little thing because they are little points that are so important in all this, to me.
GB: It’s part of your memory and your thoughts, yes, certainly.
WS: Exactly, exactly.
Int: Could you tell us Wanda, a normal typical day for you [emphasis], working at Faldingworth. Can you tell us from getting up in the morning what you had to do, whether it was cold water or hot water you those kind of, the small details. From the minute you woke up in the morning, could you tell us a normal, typical day for you working at Faldingworth.
WS: Yes. We live in a barracks. Those barracks were made from iron and they look like, I don’t know how we call it in English, but we had a saying in Polish: [Polish phrase], it means [Polish word], it means barrel, barrel cut in half and put this, and we say [Polish word] is laugh, laugh, we laugh about it because there was, we all were young and we always laugh and joke, and say little joke and getting up in the morning, I had to get up, now we had to go outside the barrack to a washhouse, and then dress. We had to put our bed, we didn’t have to have beds made up, we had to put, the mattress was in the four squares and we had to put those squares up, and pillow, everything was in a square, and the bed, iron bed was that free, and one little cupboard, everything on to the cupboard, so everything had to be absolutely perfect. We also had on the barracks, I hope you are going to do it in Ingham like it used to be, and I hope to see it, I don’t know when is going to be.
GB: Well we’ve just put the shell on now, the outside curve on, when it’s complete then we would like you to come along because you can tell us exactly where things should be!
WS: I would love that! I can remember everything.
GB: Yes.
WS: So we went there. Now, the thing is, we went to job, different job, well office job, erm, folding the parachutes in this way, laundry because we didn’t wash, of course we didn’t have [indecipherable] so we had to give every week where all our things were marked and we give it to the laundry and we got another thing every week. So people worked there in the canteens, in a mess, you know, those um, there was officers’ mess and there was sergeants mess and just ordinary a, so we had a lot of that. And there was little, not hospital but I even don’t know how to say it in English.
Int: Sick Quarters?
WS: Sick Quarters there and there was some nurses. Any job you can think of, oh, even we had a film shown about twice a week in one of the barrack, and of course after that we had a duty to go and clean this barrack if somebody drop something like that, anything you mention was there. The only thing this: our quarters were a little bit further away from the gentlemen, from the airmen quarters. They had probably the same life. And we had a 300 Squadron, all the girls, you know, that was because once Lancaster goes there’s six or seven people in a Lancaster, so when it didn’t come back, what happened and we knew all [emphasis] the aircrew you see, so we decided that is probably something nothing to do with us, we just, so the girls decided that we have to mark those aircrew that they are different when they go out. I don’t know how that we managed to get navy blue fabric, it was sort of a silk with a white spot, and we made the scarf to all the aircrew so when they went out to somewhere else they put the scarf on and everybody knew that is, you know, 300 Squadron. I don’t know if some people still remember. Mr Szuwalski, he never served anywhere, he was only in Headquarters because he came after the war and erm, so that was, that was I remember was very nice. The only thing is, even with a boyfriend, oh that’s something very funny, I have to tell you [chuckle], I have to tell you! You know there was somebody came to, about twenty years ago somebody came from Embassy from Poland to our Polish Centre and one of our friend, who was here, he was telling that Ambassador from Poland or whatever, that a lot of Polish airmen married English girl. There’s a lot of English girls being married to Polish airmen, because for English girl are more sophisticate, more prettier and something like [indecipherable], when he finish this talk, I couldn’t, I couldn’t, I just, sorry, but I have to say something and of course they couldn’t stop me, I was nobody, I was one of the people, and I say well I’m sorry Mr [indecipherable] but it wasn’t true! Polish airmen married those English girl not [emphasis] because they are prettier, because they are more sophisticated, because they’re better education, only for simple reason WAAFs couldn’t go out in uniform to dance hall, to Palais de Dance and men could go. So when they went there, and start dancing, meet this young lady who was there, civilian, and after the dance they took them back home and the mother was there, sitting on the settee, easy chair, giving a cup of tea in the nice cup, not the one that you have got in the camp, and probably a biscuit, and from one to another it went to the marriage. And what we could give those young men? We could only meet and go to the bushes for a walk if you want to be there [laughing]. I got so much! Because that was true. We could meet only in the canteen. That was all. We could not bring any young men to our barracks, and we couldn’t go to the barracks, and that how it was. When we wanted to meet we could just walk round the camp or, as I say, go a little bit away from the camp, which we could. There was villages and so on. So that is the funny part, I have to tell how it used to be and er, you know when, that’s what all we do in the camp, everything, you mention everything.
GB: What, what did you think of the food that you had at the camp? Could you describe breakfast and lunch and the evening meal?
WS: Yes. I can’t describe very much but one thing I must tell you: if you have been year and a half in Russian prison camp, have nothing to eat, there is nothing that you can say what this is better. Or if you haven’t got a choice probably you will say this, I would like this or this, but everything even today [emphasis], at my age, I eat everything, whatever is being served. And I would have to eat probably two three times not to waste anything. I do not waste food [emphasis]. If it comes to have to throw away, no I have to work so hard, think so hard, this has to be eaten first. Even my grandchildren now, say, Alexander said to me – he knows me so well - said to me babcia, now there’s a lot of things on the table, I can’t eat it all, but tell me which one have to be eaten first so it doesn’t go bad! Honestly, truly, they know me so well, and my stomach. The food was very good. There was a lot of sausages because there was not very much meat as you know, this country was, even after the war there was everything rationed.
GB: Was the food Polish because I know there were Polish cooks at Faldingworth and Ingham, so did they cook?
WS: Yes. They tried, they tried to but there is for instance we never knew English sausages, that for us was completely what we had, meat was the sausages prepared different way. Yes, but as I say, none of, none of us ever [emphasis] thought about the food that is no good. The one thing only – tea! We never had in Poland tea with milk, and here was this, this tea with milk. At first when we start it, we couldn’t drink it, but I tell you something, if I go somewhere for a holiday, and I don’t have tea, first thing when I come back from the holiday to this country I want a cup of tea with milk! You wouldn’t believe it how I love a cup of tea with milk, thinking that we couldn’t even think of it to drink it like that. And now the food. I must tell you something what happened last year in Northolt. We had this reunion and the meal was at the Northolt. Have you been there, at Northolt?
Int: Yes, yes.
WS: So you know those quite expensive: twenty five pounds, and so some of us, I wasn’t, they served sausages, this. I never, what for this money, sausages, but they didn’t know, we should have been told, they was specially was like that to serve us the wartime meal!
Int: Yes, yes, three kinds of sausages wasn’t there, yes, yes.
WS: Yes! You been there so you know that story.
Int: Yes, yes.
WS: Of course we been always having this Northolt and then the reunion at the POSK, Polish Centre in London, and of course the meal was Polish there and then we have it on the station, and this is going to be on the station next, 5th of September, going to be on station, and they didn’t tell us that that was the meal. And my daughter was with me and she really, you know, she was surprised that what we eat, yes, but as I say, it was lovely, I liked it, no, but nobody, but somebody was little bit surprised that was sausage for the money we pay. This year is also twenty five pounds [beep] and we have to do it very quickly, we have to be there, we have to say that we are coming the end of this month. This is a little bit, because it's three months later, how do I know, at my age.
GB: What you’ll be doing.
WS: What happen to me in three months it doesn’t matter, whatever happen I will just, how I get there. So no, the food was very good, but you cannot ask, if you ask this question of any of the Polish people who been to Russian prison camp they will never, never [emphasis] will anybody tell you that the food was bad. There is no such a thing as bad food.
GB: What did you normally have for breakfast? Can you remember?
WS: I think [pause] did we have some porridge, I think there was porridge there: the porridge was very popular, which was good. There was porridge, probably bread, maybe the toast. I cannot remember exactly, but as I say, food was never important to me, as long as I wasn’t hungry and it’s still [emphasis] is not important for me.
GB: And did you, you obviously worked to bring the planes in and the planes quite often flew at night, didn’t they. So were your duties?
WS: Oh yes, the duty has to be twenty four hours, wherever there was a duty, twenty four hours.
GB: Right, okay, so when you were doing your, perhaps you can explain a little bit to us about how your duty, how a normal twenty four hour duty would be for you. What, how you would kind of work, and where you would work, to bring the aircraft in to their, to their um, their dispersals, if you can remember.
WS: Yes. We knew, we knew exactly when, when they were flying because there was some tannoy at the station, you know, special person, everybody, all the crew been in the barracks staying and then when this, when this man came to the barrack all the crew knew that they have to go to the briefing room and from there they been taken by car, which all of the girls were drivers and they be taking some, each little car had six men, in the car. It wasn’t car, it was bigger like, it was not even like your car here, it was sort of like an open -
GB: Like a van type of thing, or a small lorry.
WS: And they would taken to their plane, they knew which plane they go, and they mostly go in the evening, some light, so we all had a duty, so many hours in the office, sitting in the office waiting or doing whatever they want to be doing, the same on the little, on the next door in the hospital, they would be twenty four, they always have to be somebody, maybe not so many people, but there was always somebody on duty there. When anybody wanted to be, you know, alarms something happen that they have to wake up in the morning so the tan –
GB: Tannoy.
WS: Tannoy came, loudspeaker, all over the station and everybody would wake up and knew what’s going on and be doing their duty. But I would say that was, you know, can’t remember even, but that just how it was, you to do. I didn’t, when I was at Flying Control, I never, I don’t believe I ever had this night duty there. Somehow the plane used to come in the morning, light, because they flew.
GB: They flew through the night.
WS: Through the night.
GB: And then they arrived back in the morning.
WS: Come in the morning. Nobody hardly ever I can’t remember now exactly because always something was going on on the station, and we always sort of walk to the mess for a meal. We never sat in the barracks, we have to have something – go there, go there, something we always been very, very busy, if we didn’t have anything then we learn English, we had to read, we had so many hours to go to library. Everybody sort of had to know what to do at any time.
GB: In the, in the mess hall that you went to, for the food, did the WAAFs have to sit separate from the men or could you sit wherever you wanted?
WS: No separate.
GB: All separate.
WS: All separate. Yes, we had to sort of separate and I tell you very, very funny. Officers have their lunch a bit early than other people, and the officers mess, we had to pass officers mess, and when they come out we had to salute, [whisper] we didn’t want to salute, so we were so annoyed because it just happened that all the officers came from the mess and we had to pass and we kept saluting to them [slapping sound], and we didn’t like very much [laugh] because we had to do it. But it wasn’t so bad because we had to salute from, from the squadron leaders up, not to the squadron leader, so that was, that was thing like that. And again, I can’t answer about the food as I say, food is least important to me.
GB: And did you have Polish WAAF officers as well? There were some?
WS: Yes, yes, we had Polish WAAF officers; everything [emphasis] on the station was run by Polish people, but we had a liaison officer, English lady who was English WAAF, liaison officer, so probably this, our commander Polish WAAF, she was always with this English, not you know, everything, whatever, she was tall, she was there. We had all Polish, that’s right. And there was this, we, well we didn’t meet many, I met only in Stanmore, when I was in Stanmore I met English WAAFs, you know. Mostly we been in Polish station and things like that.
GB: And you mentioned earlier on that in the evenings you tended to go to the canteen, the club.
WS: Yes.
GB: Can you tell us a little bit about what that was like and any funny stories you might have as well, from the canteen?
WS: Um, yes, we went there and we met, there was all man and woman, we talk. I even don’t remember that we ever had anything, any dancing there. No, there was no music, that wasn’t, no. So we just talk and have a cup of tea, or something like that and just talk and go to the barrack. And we had, because it was well, eight or ten in the barracks sometimes, two or three times, and what a lovely time there, telling the joke, reading the book and whatever you know, laughing and so on. The barracks were, well there was no separate just all the beds one way and another, and then, it was lovely: we were young and we didn’t care. Mostly girls, lot of jokes and funny things and somebody said Poland, remember what it was, which, talking about Poland, about home, what happened and everybody want to know how it happened. Somebody very funny. So that’s how we spent the time.
GB: And did you as young ladies, young girls, when you were back in the barrack blocks did you do things like sewing and knitting and things like that? Things that perhaps in those days ladies would do more so than these days?
WS: No.
GB: No. Nobody was.
WS: We didn’t make, I never no, no, we never made anything. No, not sewing. Oh there was sewing people, there was, I think Mrs Kaminska was in a group, there was a machine, sewing machine if there was something to repair, to sew, sometimes maybe parachute, it depends who it was. I was um, I wasn’t in this group because something cooking, cook and Mrs Kaminska was I think in the sewing, I don’t know if Mrs [indecipherable] was doing, but I was Clerk, GD, Clerk, General Duty, and that was my job: Clerk General Duty, and I always doing something for the officers here and there, and yes I never been either, something also, as I say, giving the parachute out and taking them in and something, because parachute has to be folded special way and things like that.
GB: So did you get some training in how to do the parachutes then?
WS: Yes, everybody got the training, even me when I was doing General Duty, I had office training, what to do, and I was typing: I have to learn to type. And maybe, I don’t know why I was chosen, but you see, you didn’t choose what you want to do, you been told you go on this course, you go on this course and that’s it’s. You are probably good at that job probably there was some changes but usually you had nothing to say. Wherever you been told to go, you go, that is the uniform.
GB: Can you tell us a little bit now about, if that’s possible, about how you met your husband and leading through to the day you got married, and to talk about that, if you don’t mind talking?
WS: I knew my husband from Poland; we went to the same church. And then we’d been in Siberia in different camp about five miles away, so we usually kept in touch with all the people that we knew. Sat, Sunday if we don’t work, or if there was one day that you didn’t work, you probably could walk from one camp to another – we could not escape from there because the camps were on the river banks and one big and very, very wide and very fierce river, Dvina, you couldn’t swim across that river, was impossible, you know, you would drown. And another thing on the other side was woods, a very big woods we used to go to, nobody could escape there because those woods probably would go up to the sea, I have no idea, but we used to go to the woods to collect the mushrooms, the wild mushroom, and probably some um, how you call fruit, not fruit.
GB: Nuts and things like that?
WS: Like nuts and nut and blackberries, something like that.
GB: Wild fruit, yes.
WS: That’s right, and we went to these woods and I, this what I said, we had to be very careful, keep together because there was wolves and things like that but you just go, not very far. And one of my relatives even my, my grand, my grandfather’s sister, that’s right, my younger sister of my grandfather, she was there – because they took whole villages in to Russia [cough], and she was lost and we never found her. She probably was just attacked by wolves, there was wolves we had to be very careful and she probably just wander on her own. So of that I sure, er, you know, it is, you know you have to live, if you’re like that you have to live for the day to day, and you don’t bother what happen to you the next day, you go wherever you have to go, you just most of the time like the automat, you have to push there, go there, not very much safe.
GB: So you met back up with your husband again at Faldingworth did you then?
WS: [Cough] Sorry. I met my husband, and as I say, I don’t know where he is, I knew he came to England, but I didn’t know what station they were on, but no, he wasn’t just anybody, I just like more, this girl came for the holiday and tell me who your relatives and his name is Jan Kavell, and he’s very handsome and he’s enquired about you! Oh so I just, and then we met, he used to come to Faldingworth to see me, came when he had a, because we had a two weeks’ holiday or sometimes we can have a out pass for the weekend. So, he came to meet me, nothing, nothing very much happened, and then I used, that’s how I went to Cranwell, or I wouldn’t know the Cranwell station, so I went to Cranwell station there for the day and then when I went to London, I don’t think he ever came to London, but I came to Faldingworth because I had lot of friends there, and we just become a very, very good friends, and that was all. He was quite handsome. And we never planned, there was nothing like you think now: you go, you get engaged, you meet parents, there was no parents no, there was just nobody. Then when the war was ending we all [emphasis] knew the war is finishing, the things like that, it was relaxing on the station, and we would be discharged, and what do we do? We were already told that if the war were finished we would be discharged, would have to find a job, we have to live, to find somewhere to live. Now I wouldn’t even know where to start. We just, we were just, and he was in the same position and he said what do you think about this? And I said, so he said we both, wouldn’t it be better to get married and together we would [indecipherable] and I like him very much and he’s quite handsome, so you see the thing is, you want, you have to think what is best for you. And then we got married. And, went honeymoon, where did we go to honeymoon? I think to Blackpool, yes to Blackpool, and I was still in the service and then I was pregnant, and then what I’m going to do? Still in uniform and still on the camp and knowing we were already married, and he was in the camp, somewhere else, no, just there. And then he have to be discharged and where are you going to live? Now, how [sigh], you know and I think now, and where we going to live. So we simply had to go, knock at the door, like you knocked this morning, and say have you got a room to spare to let? That’s what we used to do. And I must say that English people were very, very good. You know I, when I think now, somebody knocks on my door have you got a room to spare to live, I have, but why I should I let this room, I don’t need it, you see. And when I think back, and then he ride on the bicycle to the farmhouse, and there was this farmhouse, and he just said my wife will be soon discharged, she’s expecting a baby, and those Mr and Mrs Smith, Dorothy and Charles Smith, they say yes, they will take me. You know they is so good at taking me friend, and no farming, [beep] and my husband is still was at Faldingworth about two miles and he had to go by bicycle, he was living out pass, was so much money for it, but he stay all day at the camp and he was still flying and they were flying to Italy to bring the service people back to England so it wasn’t bombing or anything like that, but that was flying to bring the people back and then he was in Italy in January when my daughter was born. And I was at this farm: no mother, no father, my husband three days I don’t know about when he flew to Italy, there was a fog so they couldn’t fly back and this farmer, took me in the car and he took me in the car from, to Scunthorpe I think that was, nearest hospital was Scunthorpe, and there was such a fog that Dorothy drive this car and he was going to go with a hurricane lamp in front of the car so she know whichever she is going, ha, right, so she doesn’t go into the ditch! And they arrived there, we arrived, she was drive all night, probably four hours, from midnight, arrive there and probably I was there about two hours, my daughter was born. Those people took me there, and left me there and went back home. And I’m there on my own, the baby was born, and we never talked, my husband, how in case there is a girl, because my husband didn’t want a girl, he wanted a boy. And we know all the names of the boy but not of the girl. And this is three days and nurse say you have, we have to register your baby, and the name. And I didn’t know what the name, I had to choose my name and I wanted her to say I think something like Christina, okay, Christina, and just as the nurse started my birth he came to the ward, he just arrive. And I say oh my husband! Because I said Christina and he said no it’s going to be Jadwiga, okay, Jadwiga, and that was on the register, I didn’t, I was on my own, all the time. Now it’s impossible to think about this, nobody, only just English people was so nice. My husband was discharged, every airman got, my husband wasn’t officer, he was a Flight Sergeant, and those people got fifty pounds, a lot of, that was a lot of money, fifty pounds at ’47. That was ’47. Yes ’47 now. And fifty pounds we had live somewhere, and find a job. So Nottingham was the place with such a lot of jobs there was such a big industry and now there is nothing. So how you get, you must live somewhere, you must get a house. So his three friends and him; two hundred pound together, we have got two hundred pound together, so he go and buy the house, put two hundred pounds deposit, the house was six hundred pounds on the Blue Bell Hill Estate, very bad part Nottingham and with this house there was one big bedroom, an attic bedroom and a small bedroom. No bathroom. So they all going to live with us, and at that time there was two pounds a week from the board and the bed, two pounds a week. So, they gave this, they say we not going to live with you and instead of paying you two pounds for the board and thing, we are going to give you one pound and after a year we will be back what we put with the deposit the house was hold in my husband’s name. Women didn’t count at that time and it was so easy to get the mortgage because he’d started to work in a, there was iron works somewhere near Nottingham, it’s not there any more, and he got the mortgage, but he had to earn a week the same what your mortgage is by month and that was four pound, and he used to earn four pound a week, got the mortgage and we lived with those lodgers, and they gave me one pound, every week, to buy the food; everything was on the ration. Are you interested what was then?
GB: Yes, yes. Please carry on. Are you okay still to carry on talking?
WS: Yes.
GB: Do you need a break?
WS: No, no. I just tell you now what you do, you got, I’ve got, another baby was born, Alicia, and I’ve got one small bedroom, so we stay with the small bedroom on the single bed with my husband and the two cots for the children. I think there was one cot and one was just a pram that lifted the top and that was all. Now there was no, no bathroom, so the men had to shave in the kitchen, get up in the morning early, shave in the kitchen. The bathroom was not very far [indecipherable] just probably five minutes to walk, that we can go to the bathroom once or twice a week, that was good. And then everything was on ration, but there was something like you could buy sheep head without the ration, because you got only one pound of meat on those, so we bought this. Then there was the Sleighthome market which still exist, wasn’t very far, so you go to the Sleightholme market, at the end of, if they close about one o’clock, or two o’clock on Saturday, and you go at that time, and then the vegetables and things wouldn’t last because Sunday, everything was closed on Sunday, so the tradesman he used to throw away some in the basket or sell it very, very cheap. And that’s how you try to get the vegetables and things. And then you could get allotment. They were very popular allotments, I got good allotment and I had my own you know, another allotment, I had onions, carrots something like that and because I was born and lived on farm I knew exactly, I even had here, I had two years ago everything [emphasis] in my garden what I need for myself, but not any more, I can’t do it any more. So that’s how we carried on, and you could buy tripe, you know what’s tripe?
GB: Yes, yes.
WS: And that what was, but know what cook, tripe, you could buy a brain, you don’t buy them now, I don’t know that they sell brain now, and you buy brain, which was very cheap, and sometimes you could get a kidney cheap, I don’t know there’s the offal, you could get them without ration, so that’s how you manage, and I don’t know if you ever had the brain and you know how to prepare it? No. Okay, so I’m not going to go into it [chuckling] because I know, because when we killed a pig or something on the farm where I live, every bit [emphasis] had been used one way or another so I know. And I can remember going with my daughters to the butcher and we stand there, and there was a kidney, and I wanted to buy this kidney and my daughter said don’t buy the kidney! I think they learn already about it! But what goes through the kidney, I don’t want to eat kidney! Okay, fair enough, but they love brain and this gentleman, this butcher, said do you want the brain, yes I love brain. I make it like a brain fried and I add to it, like a scrambled egg, it was very good, I l love brain, and this butcher said well, if you think what’s going through the kidney and you don’t want to eat it, you know what’s going through your brain all your life and you still like it! I shall never forget how he say that – you know a lot of things happen in life! So that’s how we lived through this. One egg a week and I think four ounces of bacon a week, and of course men are working so most of the thing was, but er, I know how to cook. I made my own pasta, everything. I could buy flour and make own pasta, there is lot of Polish food that you can cook without meat because now you haven’t concentrate on meat. It was very, very hard that winter but I must say, when we moved to this Bluebell Hill house we had no furniture, nothing, we had just blankets with us, and the lady across the road, two days later knocks to the door and she said, well you moved to this house but I never see the van with the furniture. I ask her in and we had the orange boxes which, and the two boxes were put there and two boxes here and we sat on there covered with something and she looked at this. She brought us two chairs and a coffee table too. You know I just, I just can not [emphasis] praise enough how this English people in this country, act during the war. Even go on two weeks’ holiday. Men can go anywhere, Blackpool, anywhere, but where the young lady goes on holiday - in uniform. But there was appeal for the British people take WAAFs, and I have in Wool, Wool Hampton, Mr and Mrs Grainger, who had daughter probably same age, and we went for, two of us and another friend, we went there for two years for a holiday, living in their house, they fed us, they took us wherever they could to show us the park or something, maybe to cinema and that how English people were good, you know.
GB: That’s a lovely story.
WS: You know, I just, I don’t know if it, people nowadays would do anything. No, I feel now, I’m living, I’m the foreigner here. I’ve got lovely people, but nothing to talk and to say cup of tea and we talk about it. Maybe because I talk about the war all the time, and the politics. To me politics, politics hah, I mean I’ve got Polish there, television, and I sat here, there and watch everything now. I mean Cameron came, very good, but I don’t believe that, I believe there should be opposition I don’t [emphasis] believe that one party should rule because it’s kind of dictatorship, you know, but I think Cameron was good last five years, but there is Polish elections and they electing, they electing a President in Poland and none of them goes to war wanted to be President, and none of them won, so it’s going to be in another fortnight another election.
GB: Can you, sorry, can I take you back for a moment to 1945 and obviously we’ve just celebrated VE Day seventieth anniversary. Can you remember what you did on VE Day in 1945? Was there a big party on the station?
WS: No, I don’t think there was any big party or anything like that. Not in, not on a Polish station.
GB: No, no.
WS: Because at that time, being Polish, we already knew that we haven’t got a free Poland. Already in 1943 and then Yalta, that was agreement, Yalta Agreement, I think in 1945, that Stalin, that Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin together, they ruled the world. They sold Poland to Stalin and half of the Germany, as in all the Germany was divided and this, Russia took this part of Poland and then we got the territory from Germany; we knew already. On the Polish station there was no celebration and we nowhere to go, now this is, that that’s politic again I don’t know if I should say it.
GB: You say what you like!
WS: You see politics again. Mr Churchill was a very, very good for English people, very good. He care for British people, but he would have sent us back to Poland which was not free Poland. But Mr Churchill like Stalin, they used to like to drink together, and he believed, I won’t say anything rude, he believed because Stalin said yes, Poland’s going to be free and Churchill believed in this and Mr Churchill would definitely send us back, like he sent one Ukrainian Division. But just for us, fortunately, Atlee came, Churchill did not win just after the war. And Atlee, he was Labour, and he, he knew what’s going on, he probably was, I don’t know, should he be more clever, more politically minded or whatever, but Atlee decide that we can stay in this country; we have no free country to go – we can stay. And he also allowed all our civil people who live in Africa, in India, or wherever they were, come and join the forces people here in England, and my family came in ’47 and I think my mother, father, my sister, younger brother and the cousin who’s mother died in Russia and my parents. My grandparents died in Russia and so, I, you know, so they came and lived in Nottingham. Of course they didn’t have any money whatsoever, but children who served in, during the war here, like they came to us and we had to keep them, yes we had to keep them. We had to give them the shelter, they lived first in American camps, you know the American gone back after the war, so they lived there but we had to give them a little bit of money and the camp they got some food I believe, for such a [indecipherable]. So, but there was one thing: there was a lot of work in that camp [beep] I mean lace things and sewing, and I started, I had to go to work, and again, I had a little girl, Jadwiga started school, five, but the other was three and I had to go to work and nobody can look after the baby. So the next door people had a child the same age, and for no reason the next door lady said yes, you have to go to work, wok. I stay at home, your little girl can stay all day with me, now just like that. Now, can you imagine anybody now, doing anything like that?
GB: I think they would want to be paid wouldn’t they, I think yes, yes.
WS: Yes. Why should they put, they offer, you know, I have no words to describe it, I even starting not understanding how it used [emphasis] to be, helping everywhere wherever you went. Now even, my daughters went to school and they had to cross [indecipherable] road, was busy road, I had to go to work to different place so they took, six years old and five years old, or something like that, had to hold the hand and go across the road and there was this one lady who always waited for them and took them across the road, and I didn’t know anything about it, and how it was, that something there that this lady was standing on the corner, I just can’t, I only can remember and she said did you know those two little girls in brown uniform going to school? I haven’t seen them for two or three days, and I said who are you? And she said well I was always taking them across the road. And then when I came home and the girls were there I said why didn’t you tell me? They didn’t think anything about it. This lady was standing there and taking those two little girls across the road. Day after day. Now this something, I don’t know, I can’t, I just don’t know, it sort of, those people are saints or something like that; that’s how it was, that’s how. And I had to go to work. You see, again, going to church and one older lady, Polish lady, said are you look, maybe you be looking for some work, I say yes, I [indecipherable] she said look, I am a schoolteacher from Poland but I went to work for this factory [indecipherable] and I’m there as a machinist, I didn’t know anything about machining but I learned and I like it very much, and she advise me, from nowhere she advised me, go there, you’ve got two little girls and you sew. You know how to machine, you be able to and that and progress. And I took that advice and I went there and of course the manageress say we are not teach you, we cannot afford to teach, you have to know how to machine. Naturally I said yes, I know how to machine. I didn’t, but I lie to get the job. Again, I have to say, I came, the first time I see the electric machine, you put the foot down and then, if I put this foot down and that machine was moving I don’t know when will turn up with it! But the girls in the factory they were straight away round and teach me: no you put the foot down and just that. And then when I got a job to do it I didn’t know anything about it, they told the girls to one side and another side – help! Have you got to do this and this, and this, for nothing, just like that, and I learned very quickly, because I think if you have to learn quick you do learn quick, if you don’t have to you don’t bother. I believe in that. And I learned very quick and believe me, I work in this factory for thirty three years and after twenty years I landed as the factory manager and the head of production. I went up and up and up: I knew how to do it, the girls like me. I finished working about twelve years ago and I still keep in touch with my girls [indecipherable] and we meet once or twice a year here come, and have a good chat.
GB: That’s very nice.
WS: Which is very, very good. And I can remember we had a manager there and he used to talk to a dictograph, he used to be well educated, his English was very good and those girls, I remember he said hello girls, if you got more surplus shuttle, you have to give it to Wanda, our supervisor, there. Wanda, what does he mean surplus? What is that? I say if you got more than six, something like that, you know. And when I came the manageress, they love it because I spoke their language, I learned from those girls from the factory. I didn’t learn in any colleges or anything like that, and anything I said they understood me because we spoke the same language, it was lovely, and I work there all this time and then when the factory, intentionally, had to finish, he had two son and he’s got enough money and [indecipherable]. I couldn’t get any job because everybody in this trade in Nottingham knew me as manageress and they wouldn’t let, wouldn’t give me a job as the machinist and I wanted the machinist job. But those were young men who used to work for us, used to learn from us, came to work, and I like them, he was George [indecipherable], and he opened his little factory and he gave me a job, first to go round, to ask how to arrange this and then he gave me a job five hours a day, um, as a supervisor, examiner thing and I am very grateful that he gave me this job. I worked till I was seventy three years old going every day to the factory because I loved the work, not because I probably need the money, but I love the work. But what did happen, I managed to buy this house, in West Bridgford, so on my own, because my husband died when he was six, fifty nine okay, so I managed to buy this house, so this house is because I love work, and my grandson Richard who is here, although he is well educated at Nottingham University but he can’t get a job you see! My daughter, older daughter, she was quite a businesswoman, he was brought up spoilt, one son. Richard left one job, left another, I said Richard, you go, get up in the morning and say, oh I hate this one, no! You should say I love the work, I meet my friends there, we should talk about this and the other, [cough] and he learn, he learned now, after about four years. He’s forty two and he never loved his any work, but he learned eventually to say that he loved his work. He won’t get work anywhere if he left three, four works and he's forty two and how can he get the work! So I’ve been drilling and drilling and drilling, tell him how he have to say I love my work and after a year or two, you believe you love it! And I believe in it, yes. [Cough]
GB: So, that’s fascinating to hear what you did after the war, and when you left the Polish Air Force. We’ll probably kind of come to a close with what we’re chatting about now in a couple of minutes.
WS: [Cough] Yes.
GB: Because you’ve been fantastic, we’ve been talking for almost two hours, well you’ve been talking, we’ve been listening!
WS: I’ll bring you a drink shall I?
GB: Oh right. Yes please!
WS: Just the water, [cough].
GB: We still on?
Int: Yeah.
GB: Good.
WS: Can I get you [indecipherable] [Cough] [Bang] Okay.
Int: Which is off?
GB: The record is still on – oh, it’s on the other side.
Int: Oh is it.
GB: We’ll just leave it running and then we can, because it can all be edited.
WS: Now I just give you both a drink. That is a very nice drink. That keeps me going. Here.
GB: Oh right, thank you very much!
WS: That keeps me going.
Int: Very kind. Thank you very much.
WS: Because to make the tea takes a long time. [Cough]
GB: Oh yes, yes.
WS: [Cough] Okay. Now, you ask me some questions.
GB: It was just some more questions we were just going to just ask you to describe about obviously your time here with the erm, as a Polish WAAF, you know, especially at Faldingworth, and it’s always the everyday things, the things that ordinary, that happen that you don’t think about, like if you imagine your day to day, what you start with and how you go through your day cause they’re the things that are often not written down anywhere in books and things. They will often talk about the flying that happens from an RAF station, but not the small everyday things. You mentioned the fact there was um, there was a laundrette or people that did the laundry for you, you talked about the barracks where you had all the beds and the little locker. Obviously during the winter it must have been very cold in the barracks was it – or not?
WS: It was cold but we had in the barracks I think two iron, round iron stoves.
GB: The stoves.
WS: Those iron stoves I think. But we had er, warm clothes, you know, we had the warm underwear, we had warm stockings, I don’t think, I don’t think there was very much at all because every day was the same thing, there was nothing different, every day was the same and when I had a weekend we had a pass out we went to Market Rasen or Lincoln, and just for the day. I think we had to pay for the bus – no we didn’t have to pay, no. In London also we, in uniform we didn’t pay for the underground train, or a penny or something like that, but it was routine, every day the same; nothing really much happened. The only thing happened was you had a boyfriend, if you wanted to meet somebody you just went for a walk and that was all. You went to cinema, nothing very much exciting ever [emphasis] happened in the camp.
GB: You said there was a cinema on camp, they showed some films on camp?
WS: Yes, there was a film I think twice a week you could have got to cinema, and it was very, wait a minute, how did cinema work? I wouldn’t be surprised if somebody turned that at the back.
GB: But you must, I presume, especially being Polish, and obviously with your Catholic, the Catholic religion, there was a church on camp was there?
WS: Yes, there was.
GB: And a priest?
WS: A priest, every camp, yes, and I was married at that, the camp with the same priest who was our priest at the camp, yes that was. Again you see I didn’t mention it because that was routine. There is, because every Sunday you have to go to church, and that is full stop and nothing to say about it, nothing, you go to church, finish! Like you get up in the morning and go to breakfast and go to church, now all May, May is the month especially dedicated to Our Lady, and in the evening everybody who were not in the duty go to this church. There was a chapel rather, you know, a barrack also or something, chapel, we go there but as I say, this is in our, that’s what we do. Here I haven’t got a car but I take a taxi every Sunday to church and back because I can’t, the car, the buses are not so good, frequent sometimes, and at my age sometimes it’s too difficult to go, take two buses to get to the Polish church. I have got the church here, also it was Bridgford, but there is this church you have to walk to that church, about fifteen minutes, and I cannot walk any more fifteen minutes, but taking a taxi here, so I get my taxi and go to my Polish church – not that I don’t understand, the only thing is I still meet the people that I knew for years days in and days out, and I like to meet these people, to be with the people, but this church is wonderful also. I met new people and they are willing to take me to this church here, but I prefer to go there because meeting the people that I knew, but the lady who are on the committee and they undertook the part to take me to church, I say tell the lady tell the committee on your report that I like you to come here for an hour, you know, and talk, because nobody talk to me, somehow I can manage go here and there as much as I go, I do my own shopping.
GB: Could you tell us a little bit, if you’d like to, about the day you got married? It would be really interesting to hear, at Faldingworth, the day you got married, you know, tell us about how the whole day went if you could please.
WS: Now, yes, we decided to get married. We went to the priest, and priest set the date when we going to marry. Actually I, I tell you something, I didn’t even think, there was, yes I was going to get married because I liked my husband very much, he was very handsome, it was not only love, but I think he was very handsome and so many girls said this, how handsome he is, and that made me think. I knew him from Poland, I know his family very well, so it all sort of fit together, but then I knew that I cannot be dressed in anything else because all I had was this uniform, okay but I even forgot that I had to have flowers and then one my girl: Wanda you never told about the flowers! I say no, I don’t know, do you have to have the flowers, they say yes, yes and they run out and got some wild flowers and they say you can make photograph or something if you want to see, so wild flowers and they brought me, gave me this bouquet! That’s right, and that was, oh and my husband was more sort of, oh you want to, men always know what to do and I think we went, no, we went to Lincoln for our, after the wedding for the honeymoon but not, just for three days and people in a hotel in Lincoln I think it was his job, and um, and then a girls talk, help, sort of told, I didn’t think, I just didn’t think what’s going on, I didn’t know where my parents are, I hadn’t been in contact with my parents, they were in Africa, in Rhodesia, but the girls were good again, I’ve got a lot of nice people I think I’m very lucky in a nice way [beep]. Yes, they made me a reception, they went to the canteen and the officers in the canteen said yes, and the little office near, there was a chapel and there was another part, a big room where they meet, I don’t know, the priest meet and somebody, and they make little reception for me, brought everything, I didn’t have to do anything [emphasis]. The girls brought me those flowers, gave me, and then there was tea and there was even a bottle of wine. Aha, how the wine was, I can remember now. Those people, they, the people who flew to Italy, to bring the service people back to England, at that time they could buy wine in Italy, I think, I don’t know if they was officially or they did something, so they brought the wine for the reception and again, friends of my husband, and probably he had a bottle of wine and there was wine and there was sort of all together we didn’t have a family, so been family, we just spoke to anybody as it was family. We didn’t know these things family or something, there was, everybody was the same.
GB: And who gave you away that day? Because obviously your father couldn’t be there.
WS: No, nobody gave me away!
GB: You didn’t have an officer to perhaps give you away, no?
WS: No! Nobody gave us away at all.
GB: No.
WS: We just came into the chapel, on our own, and a lot of people came to get the wedding because there was announcement on the tannoy that there is a wedding on and they came and I was not given away. I didn’t even know about giving, I didn’t even think about it. When I think about it, everything had to be so, we you have to do it because otherwise what’s going to happen? You have to.
GB: Were the people at the station, on the RAF station at Faldingworth, were they excited when they heard there was a tannoy that somebody was getting married?
WS: Yes, yes, they were excited about it: they came!
GB: Because you must have had a lot of friends, and your husband must have had a lot of colleagues and friends.
WS: Yes, yes, everybody came and just, just took it as a normal part, there was nothing you know, special, there was nothing could be any special.
GB: But you remember back now, and you think with a smile that it was a very nice day.
WS: It was beautiful day, yes, everything was done for me, and that was, but then my, my other, friend of my husband, he got married, but a bit later, about a year later, and she managed to get a, she was WAAF, my friend, but she managed to get a costume suit somewhere, in Lincoln. How did they manage there I don’t know but there was some way if you want. As I say, we made those scarves and how we did manage I don’t know. Somebody always got a way.
GB: That’s lovely. It’s nice to know that even in the war time that you could have, with very little kind of um, money and things, but you and your friends and your husband could make a lovely day for you both to remember.
WS: Yes, we had a little, because we had this little pay, I can’t even remember now, it was very little money because there was nowhere to spend the money! You didn’t have it. You went to cinema in the camp, you know, and you didn’t go anywhere out. How can I go out, to Lincoln or somewhere, unless I went to museum, or somewhere to the special play, but then you didn’t because you stay in the camp – you like how it was.
GB: Yes, it was like little Poland then, was it?
WS: Yes. Like little Poland. We had plenty books to read, as I say even now I like lot of [indecipherable]. I’ve got a few books, even little things about jokes, telling jokes, telling how it was, I mean there’s a lot of things that we could do.
GB: Just one more thing before we can perhaps finish it, you said your main, one of your main jobs as an admin clerk was to do, tell the aircraft when they came back which dispersal to go on.
WS: Yes, yes.
GB: Did you know which one they had to be on, or?
WS: Yes, yes, I knew, I had to know.
GB: Because the ground crew were specific to one aircraft were they?
WS: Yes, and often I used, I wonder if I was doing, there was a girl on the R/T who used to speak to the plane on the, when they flew, where they were she used to speak, and then I have to ring the caravan. There was a caravan standing at the end and there was a weather forecast and that, all this thing, and I used to ring them and ask for the weather, which is the wind and I had to pass it to that girl on the paper where she was standing there, and when the plane approach she used to say the wind is so and so and you take this and this runway from this, because plane have to come down not with the wind, only against the wind.
GB: Yes, against the wind, yes.
WS: Against the wind, yes. And then she told them and as soon as they touched the thing, so I said G for George you, you taxi to this dispersal and they did it, yes.
GB: Did you have, did you have numbers or letters for each dispersal? How did you know which one they were?
WS: We had a number to each dispersal and we knew the number of the plane. Every plane had a number like G for George, A for Anna or something, so every plane we knew.
GB: And this was like on a, was this like a board or a map in your office or something?
WS: Yes, it was like a board on a map yes, and also how they knew because when the plane was approaching, the plane approach and say the name of the plane, we are here or there and approaching, something like that, and there was one thing, one of the plane or this was, I even never got a disc for this one, from the, because we have got a cemetery, Polish War Cemetery at Newark, I don’t, you know about that? Right. And there was one plane who came and actually, not on the station but very close to the station, fell; everybody was killed, six. And then I had this interview, this Polish man, here, and then he took me to Newark, and he wanted me, to show this grave of those six men who was killed, but I didn’t know where they, because, where they been buried, I probably been at the funeral there but I didn’t know, so it took me two hours work all together when he, and I’ve got it all together on the film, I don’t know, he gave me a disc and I’m looking, I’m going each grave to find out. And I didn’t know exactly what the name were. So, by looking at every grave I saw those six grave together with the same date.
GB: Yes.
WS: And all other had different date, different things, and I found them eventually, and I look at that disc because this new thing you been saying, I’ve got all the apparatus for everything as you know, here, there and another upstairs and I’ve got all the discs, I can’t use it. I’ve got about forty tapes here and there is machine; can’t use anything, just can’t use anything. I can not get any young people who would help me, you see this is the trouble.
GB: There are companies now that will change video tapes.
WS: I know.
GB: They have a big machine with the videos on one side and DVDs on the other.
WS: Yes, but what good is it if I can not get into this, I can’t understand, but as I say, none of the young now, see the next door, seventeen and fifteen, young man, next door. Now in the, been the same as the people were during the war here and things like that, they would say yes, we pop you in camera an hour and when it finish, or when it finish press this button.
GB: Yes.
WS: No, no, not even my nephew, but he lives a little bit, probably twenty minutes to get here. My nephew. I ask him to be here today, this morning.
GB: Yes.
WS: I said who is coming and so on. Say work. No, I don’t know because they’ve got a big car, thirty six thousand pound, they have the caravan, they’ve got [indecipherable], they’ve got, they haven’t got time for me! They’ve got such a lot of money, well off, so why should they bother. He goes out, you know, meets a friend, they out for lunches, but I’m still very poor, I haven’t got very much money, I’ve got enough money, but on your own where can you go?
GB: But you’ve got your house happiness and your memories – and your health, which is quite obvious, I mean for a lady, dare I ask your age, how old are you?
WS: Yes, yes! I’ll be ninety two in January, ninety two in January.
GB: If I am as, if I am as well and as healthy as you when I am ninety two I will be extremely pleased, especially with the full life that you have had, and for good or for bad, and the happy and the sad times, for you still to be here talking to us: it’s wonderful!
WS: Yes, and I do my cooking, I do not buy any ready meal because I know that probably one day I will have to have the ready meal, so while I don’t have to I do my cooking. I love cooking, it’s very difficult to cook for one, but I organise myself so well that I cook. I love soup, I love this, so I cook for about four portion so I can freeze one, two and have one and two and then something else, so probably even if I go to freezer today I can have full completely different lunch today and full completely lunch tomorrow! So, and I, things I buy usually I’ve got everything for, at the house for two weeks’ worth of food, freezer, I got the freezer, you see I organise myself. I realise that one day I probably will not [emphasis] be able and what I do then? I’ve no relatives that can help me, so I organise myself so I’ve got everything there. Bread is also freezed instead, in case I run out and can’t go to shop and as I say, those people round here, only Peter, the one that you met, you see here, he is seventy eight, he is the only one who is a very, very good friend and he sort of, shall I use the word care, but in a manner?
Int: Yes, yes.
WS: But his partner, she is sixty three, she is not a, and Catherine be across the road on her own, she probably is about sixty but they don’t, I said hello, but say hello and go, you see, but Peter would talk to me, Peter would say how are you and what’s that and we talk about this, can I use your green bin because it is empty and I’ve got the waste, all little things like that and he gets all my keys and everything and the telephone of my nearest, my grandson and my nephew, he’s got it all there and the key to the house and even when I have got this alarm, talking alarm, you know, what you press.
GB: Yes, yes.
WS: I have to have somebody telephone number, that is the rule of this, they gave me this apparatus. So Peter said yes, I have your key because if I press it to get into the house they ring there, and they come here so I’ve got everything organised and even further than that, I’ve, you know that, a living will. Did you hear about living will ever?
GB: Living will, I’ve heard about them but I haven’t kind of, I don’t know the details of it. I tell you what I’ll just switch off the recorder now because that’s, especially when you’re talking about other personal things we don’t need to, hand me that, let me just see, there we are, switch that one off, lovely and switch this one off.
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Title
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Wanda Szuwalska Interview
Description
An account of the resource
Wanda Szuwalska was born on a farm in Poland and was deported to Russia by train at the start of the Second World War. She talks of the journey to Russia, the time she and her family spent there, then coming to England and becoming a WAAF. Wanda worked at RAF Faldingworth and then Stanmore and she describes the normal life she felt she had. After the war Wanda married and had a family, working as a machinist eventually becoming the manager. She also tells of how kind people were to her, the food she prepared, her family and her life on her own.
This item was provided, in digital form, by a third-party organisation which used technical specifications and operational protocols that may differ from those used by the IBCC Digital Archive.
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Royal Air Force
Language
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eng
Type
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Sound
Format
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01:36:23
Identifier
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SRAFIngham19410620v090001-Audio
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
Middle East--Palestine
Poland
Russia (Federation)
England--Lincolnshire
England--Liverpool
Russia (Federation)--Arkhangelʹskai︠a︡ oblastʹ
Russia (Federation)--Katynʹ
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Creator
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Geoff Burton
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Anne-Marie Watson
Temporal Coverage
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1939-09-17
1940-02-10
1942-04-01
1943
1945
Conforms To
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Pending revision of OH transcription
300 Squadron
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
faith
ground personnel
home front
love and romance
RAF Faldingworth
RAF Ingham
RAF Northolt
Stalin, Joseph (1878-1953)
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2082/34443/SWeirG19660703v030006-0001.2.jpg
6ad8a03cde25230a3028a0beb09b3f98
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2082/34443/SWeirG19660703v030006-0002.2.jpg
04bd3f63bd43d6d1b943a3d2bda49d08
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Title
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Weir, Greg. Ross, Joseph
Description
An account of the resource
Eight items. Collection concerns Joseph Ross a Halifax pilot who flew operations on 102 Squadron from July to December 1944. Contains propaganda leaflet, a map and five flying log books.
The collection was catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Date
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2017-04-26
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
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Weir, G
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Title
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British propaganda leaflet
Description
An account of the resource
Two sided leaflet in German language concerning Bomber Command's 1000 bomber operations.
This item was sent to the IBCC Digital Archive already in digital form. No better quality copies are available.
Temporal Coverage
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1942-05-30
Spatial Coverage
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Germany
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Language
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deu
Type
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Text
Format
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Two sided printed document
Identifier
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SWeirG19660703v030006
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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1942-05-30
Conforms To
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Pending text-based transcription. Other languages than English
bombing
bombing of Cologne (30/31 May 1942)
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
propaganda
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1178/34345/EvanRielCvanRielCv1.1.pdf
6d2385875bd2e59d5ae841012f48ffc0
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Title
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Van Riel, Coby
J F Van Riel
Description
An account of the resource
Three items. An oral history interview with Coby Van Riel (b. 1932), a memoir and her brothers war diary. She was a recipient of the Operation Manna food drops.
The collection was catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2015-08-25
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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VanRiel, JF
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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Coby van Riel
Personal Experiences in the War of 1940 -1945.
10th May 1940
It had been a restless night with planes flying over and the distant sound of shooting. The shooting did not worry me too much. I was only 8 years old and I had never heard any shooting before.
I did not understand why I heard my parents talking in the other room, silently but in an anxious and agitated way. At last, it must have been about 6 or 7 o'clock in the morning that they came to me and my brother to tell us that Holland was at war with Germany. My parents looked sad and worried.
I started to wash and dress myself, when suddenly the shooting had come nearer and louder. There was a commotion outside of people getting out of their houses calling, talking and shouting.
I ran outside forgetting that I had not put my skirt on and instead picked up a children's apron and hastily tied the ends round my waist.
People had come into my mother's chemist shop and everybody talked at once, pointing at the airplanes, which now filled the sky with an almighty heavy droning sound. They came in their thousands and I thought it was all very exciting and perhaps something to celebrate.
Suddenly I saw things slowly falling from the planes. I heard the adults say that they were parachutists and I had learned a new word.
Somebody said you could see them better on the open road leading to the beach. We lived in the west of The Hague, just one street away from Scheveningen, a fishing place and harbour at the North Sea, where the women wore traditional clothes and headdresses.
So everybody started running through the few small streets towards the old locks of the harbour. And there, with now hundreds of people, we stood there, some in silence, some shouting and arguing, some crying, watching this spectacular sight of masses of parachutists falling slowly away from the German planes, the parachutes like huge umbrellas opening and floating down.
With the other children, I started dancing and shouting. For us it was, we thought, a sudden pleasant surprise the adults had dreamed up and staged for us.
Then within minutes the whole scenery changed. There were no parachutists to be seen anymore. Other planes were still coming over and this awful shooting started; awful because the noise was increasing to a terrifying loud almost rhythmic crackle, causing people to panic, scream and cry.
Even the children had stopped dancing around and now I realized that something dreadfully serious had started and the word war started to have a frightening meaning for me. At this moment I noticed that I did not have a skirt on.
I looked up at the planes and again the dropping started, but to my and everybody's horror, there were no people floating down, but bombs and bombs and bombs, whooshing and whistling, their awful sounds, falling in rapid succession, hitting the harbour and houses around us.
Everybody started running back to their houses and I reached my mother's shop “Drogistery” (Separate from but like a chemist, but without prescriptions.) in time, before the bombs hit the very streets we all had been running through. I was very afraid now.
The first casualties were brought into the shop. My mother gave some first aid. My father tried to keep my brother Han and me away from the sight of the crying and injured people. Helas, my mother was not trained to help the more serious injured people and when somebody came to her with blood all over his face, one eye hanging down on his cheek, she started shaking so much, shocked into a state where she could do no more, so that she had to close the shop. This sounds awful, but who are we to judge people’s reactions?
Fortunately, there was a first aid post not too far away, so that people went there and I guess that by now things were getting organized, as ambulances and fire engines were driving on and off to help where they could.
The bombing went on for four days and we soon got used to react to the sirens. A continuously high and low howling sound announced that an air raid was, imminent, giving people time to get into their houses and protect themselves as best as they could. We used to huddle in a recess under the staircase of the neighbour or stand under the architraves of the doorway which was advised on the radio in emergency bulletins, issued the whole day through.
I got bored with this 'hide and seek' drill and wanted to play with the toys and wooden blocks I had in a large carton box. I turned this box over in one go and the wooden contents clattered on the linoleum floor, making my mother jump and scream. She thought that a bomb had hit our house. Her nerves must have been very shaky to mistake falling blocks for bombs, but I did not get a chance to, play anymore during unsafe periods: The siren gave one long plain sound when the air raid was over, so that people could relax until the next came along.
Rotterdam was bombed heavily and Germany threatened the Dutch government to bomb and flatten all the other big towns. An ultimatum of 12 hours was given. The Dutch had fought courageously but all in vain. Holland surrendered after the 4th day of the war. The bombing stopped and there was an eerie silence. People emerged from their houses to see the bomb damage. My mother had opened her shop again and soon after we saw the first Germans in their uniforms. We all stared at them like they were some aliens out of space. For some reason, I was scared stiff of their helmets and for a long time even after the war, when in a film I saw these helmets nicknamed, “dakpannen” (“roof tiles") they gave me the, shivers as well as having nightmares of German soldiers running after me which often used to wake me up screaming. But the latter was maybe a result of experiences later in the war.
We noticed their loud bragging voices and soon we learned to understand their language. One of the soldiers entered our shop to buy something and although he was not unfriendly, my mother was trembling while she served him.
Until 1942 I cannot remember that anything dreadful happened to disturb our daily life too much. The only incident was when one Sunday, returning from church, we passed some German bunkers (underground shelters). German soldiers were standing guard at the entrance. We stared at them too long to their liking and to our horror one threatened us with a hand-grenade if we did not move on quickly enough. My mother pushed my brother, who was still looking over his shoulder, and he promptly walked into a lamppost with such a force that he broke some of his teeth. Although in much pain and bleeding he started running, followed by us, afraid the soldier would throw his murder weapon at us.
At some time all Dutch citizens were forbidden to listen to radios and this was constantly checked by the Germans. Most people ignored this and we listened in secret to the English broadcasts.
We were ordered to tape or blacken all the windows in case of air raids from the English and after sunset no light was supposed to shine from the houses onto the-streets.
After the Dutch initially lost hope, they soon pulled themselves together and resistance groups were formed all over the country. Whenever a serious thing happened, like a German soldier being murdered etc. a curfew was immediately imposed and everybody had to be in by, if I remember well, at 8 o'clock in the evening.
One day we were ordered to hand in radios, bicycles, cars, any copper, lead, etc. Immediately people had jewelry made of these coins, of which I still have one: A small brooch showing Queen Wilhelmina on a “kwartje” (About 25p) and other things. The only cars that were not requisitioned were those that were needed for business and emergencies. They had to run on wood gas (Gas from burning wood) as there was no petrol available. Of course many Dutch people tried to hide as much as they could.
Jews were ordered to wear a yellow star, the David Star, sewn on to their clothes and they were forbidden to go to cinemas, theatres, concert halls, hotels, cafes and other public places. My own friend, Jetje Stelleman, who lived a couple of houses further on, had to wear her star as well as her whole Jewish family.
It became dangerous to have contact with Jewish people and my mother out of sheer fear told me it was better not to be friends with Jetje anymore as everybody who talked to Jews were considered Jews themselves.
Since then even after the war and up till now (2015) being 83 years old I felt and still feel sad and painful not knowing what happened to Jetje and if she survived the war.
This whole situation lasted until 1942 when suddenly the war became more serious. The Germans started to build a 'tank wall' next to the existing canal. They planned to build it in such a way that it would run parallel, although with a few miles distance from the beach. The beach was partly mined, many 'bunkers' were built and large parts of the beach were made into inaccessible terrain, 'planted' with concrete posts and barbed wire. It was forbidden to the Dutch to enter the beaches. This whole operation was meant to keep away the British in the event of an invasion.
The next move was to announce that everybody living in this area had to leave their houses in a certain short time. My parents were forced to sell off the contents of the shop as quickly as possible and that meant that they did not get the true value; everything was sold very cheaply. They kept boxes of soap which proved to be very handy as later in the war there was no soap to buy anymore. For my brother and me they kept boxes of liquorice and probably some other useful articles which I don't remember.
My uncle and aunt offered us a temporary place to live in, a cellar under their cafe. My parents accepted as they thought the war would last only a few months. As it happened we lived there for over three years. Children were still allowed to go to school in the now 'German' area, called “Spergebiet”, with an “Ausweis” (Permit). I used to go on my scooter which took me an hour to 'peddle' down and an hour to 'peddle' back. I wore my shoes out in a short time.
One day there was a terrific commotion in the area and I did not manage to reach the school. Germans were all over the place, an air raid was going on and there was a lot of shouting and screaming. I got very frightened and turned back home. This was the end of my long journey to school and I went to another school nearer home.
My mother tried to make a home of this unfriendly concrete cellar by partitioning the space with curtains and small carpets on the floor. We slept in one long narrow space, where also one of my cousins slept as my aunt had only 2 bedrooms upstairs.
Later we were joined by the domestic help who was slightly odd. Every evening she started talking in her sleep and shouting, “geef mij maar beschuit met muisjes!” which meant she only wanted to have a Tea-break (breakfast biscuits) with some particular Dutch sweet on it. Now in England called “Dutch Crisp bakes”. She used to give me the creeps but soon we all got accustomed to her monotonous cries.
A brother of my mother and aunt and my Uncle Luuk came to live with us as well, so another bed was added to the row.
When the raids on people started, whereby boys from 16 years of age to men of 42 years old were picked up to be sent to labour camps in Germany, the son of our neighbour a student in economics joined us as well in our dormitory.
Depressing were the big drainpipes along the walls and the unavoidable noise that came from them at certain times plus the fact that there were only 2 small windows looking out into a small brick walled-area meant to catch the surplus rain water from the garden. We could only look and see some sky.
At a later time in the last winter of the war the Germans started, apart from their plan to starve the entire population in the West of the country, (as a punishment after the railways went on strike) to inundate the west as well with the result that our brick 'holes' overflowed and every morning our cellar was flooded with an inch or two of water. The-scooping out and mopping up was a tedious job. We had to take care not to leave shoes, carpets, etc on the floor. The resulting dampness was not very healthy and my parents had a lasting struggle to fight off mildew and mould of the furniture.
Another disgusting thing was that we had to cope with a flea epidemic. When I was doing my homework at my mother's dressing table (my brother used the dining room table), I could see them jump on the towels and I became quite an expert in catching these vermin at the cost of time spent on my homework.
We had our evening meals together upstairs with the rest of the family, which by now had extended to 13 people, including the neighbours, to save fuel as there was not much left to burn.
My aunt used a large wood-stove in the café called "Goliath" and in the living room a very small one called "Mayo" but nicknamed "David”. The latter was made purposely for people to buy, a very economic stove to warm up just one room.
One day when my aunt heated too large a kettle of water on this "Mayo," she accidentally knocked it over and the near boiling water severely scolded her legs, too bad in that time as very few medicines were available. She was in agonizing pain and it took weeks for the wounds to heal.
One day towards sunset my Father and Brother Han were spotted by neighbours while they demolished (“sloopten”) a wooden door for firewood in our "Mayo " from one of the bicycle sheds in the ally-way at the back of our and neighbours houses, which was highly punishable.
Luckily one of our close and trustworthy neighbours called Henk Overzee came up with a brilliant idea to prevent a probably less trustworthy person to call the police, for all of our family and friends quickly to go outside to give my father and Han the opportunity to mix with us and go inside straight away, while leaving the desired door behind of course which next day had disappeared, very likely stolen by somebody else in need
People got their fuel for these stoves by cutting down any wood in sight. Many trees in the woods were felled and sawn into logs and pieces, despite the German's ban to do so.
The last severely cold winter made people steal every bit of timber from empty houses. Doors, window-frames, even the wooden blocks between the rails of the 'trams' (electric street-cars) were broken up and taken away.
So we spent most of the time of the late afternoons and evenings with 13 people together in one room. As there was no electricity anymore the boys took it in turns to peddle bikes, put up in bike pedestals, to provide some light. We had still some candles, but soon we all had to get used to go to bed at a very early time. This was a blessing in disguise because of the increasing food shortage. People became so weak, that lying in bed and sleep as long as possible, meant saving the body's energy.
We queued every day on the street waiting for the organised "Central Kitchen" to bring food (for which we got coupons) in big metal containers, which were not cleaned properly, on open Lorries.
The food in the containers was not too bad, mainly either soup or stew but too little and not much meat or fat in it.
We waited patiently sometimes for an hour or more because the deliveries were often held up by air- raids or other disturbances, it was nothing unusual to see people faint.
Sometimes the Lorries did not turn up until the next day. In the summer on a hot day it meant that the food had gone off, but nevertheless we took it and ate it.
How I hated to see the bakery shop 'Steenbeek," where people worked voluntary or forcibly for the guarding Germans. Once I peeped through the open doors to see these delicious custard slices. Hoping with many other children that one of the cakes would come to us in a miraculous way, we hung on until a soldier chased us away, slamming the doors in our face.
For some reason I forgot the food was not delivered as usual in the"Regentesselaan” but instead in the "Kootwijkstraat", a street parallel to the street where I lived. Large mess-tins like the small tins as used in the Army and the Navy, called "gamellen" delivered the food. They were on a sort of flat trailer and as soon as all the people in the queue got their portions in their small saucepans and other containers, the hungry children climbed on the trailer.
I joined as well and we tried to get the last morsels out of the "gamellen", scraping and licking with our bare hands. It soon developed into a huge fight between some gangs of children, joined by myself as well, until pelting of stones to each other started to prevent one getting more than somebody else.
Suddenly I felt very sad and down by all this going on. I stopped, decided to give up and went home. My parents knew nothing about this fighting for these bits of food and I never told them.
People started to go to the farms and nurseries on bikes most of them without tyres, or on foot, often long distances to exchange their linen, silver or any other valuables for food. Many farmers got very rich and also a bad name for taking advantage of these terrible situations. On top of that, very often people fell in a trap when returning home, German soldiers were waiting to order these poor people to hand over all they had, including bicycles.
It was very disheartening indeed. I had my own very personal disappointment when after a whole day trying at the nurseries in “Westland”; I came home exhausted and empty handed.
Another time my classmates and I stole potatoes with plants and all what used to be flowerbeds in one of the great parks, "Zuiderpark”, when suddenly one of us cried out, “run, run, they have seen us, they are coming after us!" I did not wait and ran as fast as I could, looking back once just to see that what looked like running uniforms behind us.
I managed to get home, proudly presenting my prey to my parents. To my utter shock and surprise they were furious with me. They said they could not possibly keep stolen goods and my father took me back to the park where I had pulled out the potatoes. He told me to wait near the entrance of the park. What he did or where he left the potatoes I cannot remember, but that was my last effort to solve a food crisis.
Identification cards and ration cards were distributed (but many false ones were printed by people, with the latter we were able to occasionally buy a loaf of bread, called “Regeringsbrood”, Government bread made from rye or wheat, which was very hard, probably because of shortages of yeast and fuel to bake. Also butter or vegetables, etc. but soon there was nothing left in the shop and in the last winter, which was called “Hongerwinter” (Hunger Winter) even with the ration cards there was nothing to buy. I still have the old ration cards.
The black market was thriving, I remember my uncle offering one guilder for one potato to one of his customers, a potato merchant but the man could not help him.
We started to eat tulip bulbs nettles, grass and sugar beet, Together with the “Linsen” (Lentil) Soup of the Central Kitchen my stomach refused to keep this peculiar bitter tasting mixture inside. Every evening I woke up being sick and with my imitating the sirens in my sleep and wetting my bed. The doctor told my mother the last was a sign of physical weakness. I must have given my parents a lot of anxiety and worry. I felt very ashamed of the bed wetting and tried to clean and dry secretly.
New clothes were hard to get. My mother paid 23 guilders for 1 shapeless cotton vest and pants of an awful green colour for me. People became very handy and economic. They made do with old clothes repairing them endlessly, turning the material of old coats inside out, so that they looked nearly new, making skirts from men's old trousers, etc.
They kept up the spirit and the resistance groups fought bravely underground.
Sir Winston Churchill kept our hopes up with his calm speeches on the radio and to us he became our hero. We loved to hear the sound of the Big Ben at the start of the broadcasts.
The resistance groups printed their own news-bulletins and there was a widespread network of workers, who secretly and often at great risk distributed this welcome news.
Once I had to take an important message, hidden under the sole in my shoe a few streets further on. Children were not suspected and quite reliable as they considered this trust from the adults as to be very proud of. Moreover, they had become to dislike the Germans as much as the adults.
When I was 12 years old or so, in 1944, I went to a grammar school in the City. It was a long walk; it must have been 35 or 40 minutes. The thing I liked about it was that with the other children we passed a shop which used to sell ice -cream before the war. Now they sold what we called "shaving-cream," a very light, fluffy substance, 25 cent per portion put in a cup or mug you had to bring yourself. It gave a feeling if you had eaten a huge meal. The only difference was it did not last long. Only now have I learnt that this “Shaving cream” was made from the juice of Sugar beet.
In the City for the first time homes and a bookshop of a Jewish family burned. Raids on Jewish people had been going on for a while already and now the Germans unexpectedly started picking up boys and men from the street and after announcing that every boy and man between the age of 16-42 had to go to certain centres to be send to labour camps in Germany, they would suddenly scoop through streets, knocking and ramming doors, dragging boys and men from their hiding places.
My cousin and neighbour's son tried to hide on a shelf at the top over a cupboard, "Sammy" the dog had seen them go in there and would not stop barking, so they had to find another hiding place.
I remember the Jewish owner of the corner second-hand furniture shop next to our cafe, suddenly taken away and us children staring unbelievingly through the window.
Only one more time we managed to get our relatives together to have a birthday party. We forgot the war and we were dancing, singing and we did some sketches. We were enjoying ourselves tremendously and decided to do the conga round the billiards in the cafe. Then suddenly, shock-horror, a loud knocking on the door and shouting in German to open the door.
We all stood there silent and nailed to the floor. On order of my uncle we tiptoed quickly down into the cellar and while we were all sitting or half lying on the staircase peeping through the space under the door, we heard my uncle open the door and invite the German soldiers straight to the bar and assuring them that the noise must have come from the cinema next door. He kept on talking to them and pouring them any drinks he was still lucky to have.
When we heard the Germans change from angrily shouting into cheerful laughter, we relaxed a little but stayed silent, till after what seemed like hours, at last the soldiers, a little drunk, left the cafe.
We just continued our party, whispering our songs and tiptoeing through the cafe without putting on any lights. This was exciting as well, but my uncle did not want to take the risk of the soldiers coming back and soon we retired, most of us in the cellar. It looked like a hospital, everybody sleeping in beds or on the floor in one long row and to my aunt this was a good excuse to dress herself up as a Red Cross nurse very early next morning to wake everybody up with a sponge of cold water from her bowl. Everybody was drenched. We followed this up with a great pillow fight and I still remember the whole party as one of the best we ever had.
We drifted into 1944 and the war situation became grave and grim.
The raids on people were intensified. A few times the cinema was raided and many men were taken away. At school the boys of the higher forms were picked up. One day on a Tuesday in September there was a commotion and there were rumours through the whole town that the liberators were practically on our doorsteps and people got so excited that they actually believed that the end of the war was there.
They started dancing and singing in the streets, ignoring the warnings of the cautiously minded. As it happened it was a false alarm and the Germans reacted by shooting and arresting people all over the place. Many lost their lives that day. This tragic day was to be called and still referred to as "Dolle Dinsdag" (Mad Tuesday). My mother started looking for my brother and me, but we managed to get home safely. After all this our school closed down.
The winter turned out to be very cold and hard indeed and the food shortage became even worse, as the Germans had decided to starve the population as mentioned before. As proper coffins were difficult to get by and no cars or petrol were available not even wood-gas anymore, people who died had to be buried, carried in rough wooden coffin-like boxes on hand-carts.
However, apart from starvation, very few illnesses occurred and people did not give up. They did not moan, but courageously plodded on with their daily lives which were often broken up by bombings and V1s.
On New Years Eve 1944 we saw one of them go wrong. It stopped high in the sky, its huge flames spouting. We stood stunned, except me screaming non-stop.
Nobody told me off. Then suddenly the V1 turned and came down a couple of streets further on, destroying most of the houses, killing and maiming many people. Windows were broken over a wide area.
Very frightening were the V1's often exploding at launching, causing great damage at the houses.
When that happened the Germans had only 15 minutes to escape. The launching pads were at the "Frederik Hendrik plein" (square) where nearby I used to live. My brother Han who one day passed this square, witnessed one such an explosion and ran away with the flying away Germans along the "Spergebiet" (border of no entrance or exit without permission "Ausweis") down the for us well-known "Johan de Witlaan".
A few other places were for instance "Clingendaal" a military area and barracks in the district Benoordenhout where "Seyss-Inquart", by Hitler given the title of "Rijkscommissaris', had his head-quarters.
I think the cause was that people were undernourished by the increasing shortage of food which started to effect people’s behaviour.
I'll never forget the quarrel between my parents and uncle and aunt, something about the talk of our family better to stay some time in the cellar where we lived to give them some privacy in there own living-space. At some point the quarrel and shouting between my uncle and father got out of control which frightened me. Luckily my mother came in between and stopped them as they all noticed that I was there watching and listening in fear.
My mother then took our own family down into the cellar where we all calmed down. Luckily this episode never occurred again, but for a while it left a strain between the families. We still had to live together for about another 4 or 5 months until the liberation, a time we did not know then how long that would be.
We all started loosing weight rapidly. My uncle Luuk, the brother of my mother who had come to live with us became very ill. One morning he was taken to hospital; he died soon after of starvation and cancer of the stomach. My parents became ill as well and their voices changed. I was told later that this often happens to severely underfed people.
The doctor came in and from my hidden place behind my bed I heard her (woman doctor) say that they (my parents) better die, as she could not do anything for them. It would help if they could only have some broth every day to stay alive. I went straight away to a chicken-farm and asked the farmer if he could give me a chicken and I explained the situation. He was not very friendly and as he wanted to shut the door, I put my foot inside and promised him a small loaf of bread in exchange. How I did not know, because I knew even though my father's job was to deliver bread, there was no bread anymore. So whatever I said, it was in vain and the man forced me to pull my foot back and slammed the door close.
Next I chose the biggest pan from my aunt's kitchen and went to the well known dairy "van Grieken" that was taken over by the Germans and used as kitchen and canteen. I remembered the lovely smell of cooked food, when I passed the building every day on the way to school. Two soldiers stood guard and I asked them politely and friendly whether they could give me some food for my sick parents. At first they laughed and teased me, but when I kept on nagging them, they got very angry and told me that if the Queen, that "swinehund" had not left the country we would have had plenty of food.
When they pointed their guns at me, threatening to shoot, I ran off, the empty pan under my arm. Coming home my parents were not at all pleased and told me however much they appreciated my thoughts and efforts, I was not to do this again. Somehow my parents managed to stay alive.
Only a few times we were lucky to obtain a bag of grain from unknown source to me, probably the black market. We had to sort out the grain as mouse droppings were included. This was a time consuming job, but we didn't mind as time was one of the few things we had plenty of. We made fun of it by making a game to see who was first to finish his or her portion and who had the most droppings.
My aunt would grind the grain and bake the most delicious bread with it or "roggepap", a kind of porridge made with water which tasted so lovely, that we thought we would like to eat it for ever even after the war would be finished.
There was nothing to buy in the food shops anymore and the only things available at the greengrocers were bunches of parsley for which my mother had to pay 6 guilders each which was about £6.00, a lot of money at that time and customers were allowed to buy only 3 to 6 bunches.
However times became worse and the only highlight was one evening when it was already dark and we were sitting together around the light of one precious candle when we heard a sudden knocking and banging on the window. It gave us a start, because we never knew whether it would be a raid or somebody trying to find a hiding place while escaping from the cinema next door: Sometimes this cinema was raided by the German soldiers to pick up young men.
Well, after my brother, a cousin and the neighbour's son hastily had left the room to go to their hiding places, my uncle dared to slightly open the curtains and shout "Who is there?" To our great surprise and joy my uncle and cousin from Arnhem in the east of Holland had managed to get to us by dodging the Germans, travelling by night and hiding in the daytime. We all laughed, cried and hugged each other, knowing how dangerous such .a journey was. They took the risk though because they had heard that the situation in the west was very bad and that many people were dying of starvation. As there was no means of contact either by telephone or mail, which was blocked or stopped by the German occupiers, they decided to see for themselves. ,
They had brought 2 suitcases with food, emergency rations like "zeekaak", and a very hard biscuit, normally eaten by people who used to be at sea for a long time.
There was much to talk about, exchange all the latest news and to hear that all our other relatives in Arnhem were safe and sound.
As it had taken my uncle and cousin a few days to reach us, they were now very tired and dirty. They had something to eat and drink, went to bed and slept for many hours.
The next day after they'd had a long soak in the bath (my cousin had to be scrubbed clean!) they left after again hugging each other and us thanking them gratefully. The food they'd brought sustained us, for several days feeding 13 people: my uncle, aunt and their 2 children, my parents, my brother and I, another uncle and the neighbours mother, father and son, Annie the servant (plus 1 small dog).
Help for the undernourished children came from IKOR (Or IKB according to my Brothers diary of the war), an international church organization. All children had to come to certain centres to be examined buy doctors. We were divided into A, B or C groups; the C groups being the worst off children. My brother and I were placed in C and three times a week we were asked to come to the Centre and bring a small saucepan to be filled with porridge or stew.
The problem was that as soon as we came home the whole family ate from this little portion. As soon as the committee of IKB (International Kerk Bureau) got to know this, they let the children stay in the Centre to eat everything there and then. That was much better.
A kind butcher called Mr Beusekom, who’s shop was in the Nunspeetlaan asked my mother if she would allow my brother and me to have a lunch of some soup every Wednesday in his shop. Of course she gratefully accepted and we were surprised and pleased to see real pieces of meat in the soup. Some children's stomachs were not used to proper food anymore and they were sick straight away but ate it again! Soon my brother and I became a little stronger.
The English started bombing Germany, joined by the Canadians and Americans.
Every night we could hear the droning of hundreds of planes going over and we knew the war could not last much longer now.
The centre of Rotterdam was bombed; the Northern parts of The Hague also; we could see this from a distance. Tragic was that the English bombers confused two districts. They should have bombed "Benoordenhout," where there was a large concentration of the notorious Gestapo Headquarters. Instead they bombed "Bezuidenhout," a quiet residential district.
My mother happened to be there visiting a cousin of mine who had her first baby in a maternity hospital 2 days before. There were many casualties and my mother and other visitors were told to lie under the beds, as the bombing was severe.
However, my mother could not stand it any longer and at her own risk, she ran out of the hospital back home. How she ever got safely through, I don't know. The next day my cousin and her husband with their new born baby came to us as the hospital was bombed flat and my cousin had to flee with the baby, only to find her own home gone, and then walked with her husband and baby to where we lived, a distance of about an hour. (I don’t know if somebody helped them). She had absolutely nothing left and a friend of mine and I went round to other mothers who we knew had babies to ask for some clothes and nappies.
As it became clear to the Germans that they were losing the war, they allowed English planes to drop parcels with food at certain times and certain places, known as Operation “Manna! The Americans did the same known as operation “Chowhound”. This was a tremendous sight. Everybody was out in the streets and many of them on rooftops to see these low flying planes dropping the food parcels on parachutes, a very moving sight indeed. I felt like crying and laughing at the same time like everybody else. It was as if there was no difference in class or age.
We were, and still are very grateful for having been saved just in time from starvation.
The food was distributed. We were given corned beef, biscuits and chocolate. We were warned to eat small portions and slowly in order to let our stomachs get used to this proper food again.
Soon an assignment of Swedish bread arrived, baked after the flour had been dropped, and never in my life has bread tasted so delicious anymore. At last the typical hunger stomach pains disappeared.
People were getting excited once more with the end of war in sight but after the experience of "Dolle Dinsdag" everybody kept quiet in fear of German reprisals.
At last on the 5th of May 1945 our allied liberators came rolling in with their tanks and again people were out on the street but this time it was real and they could let go and sing and dance with thousands of people going down the streets. It was like one big family party. My mother had called me out of my bed as the news came through in the evening at perhaps 7 or 8 o'clock.
I saw the soldiers on the tanks, showered with masses of flowers, girls climbing onto the tanks and kissing our liberators. I saw the German soldiers taken prisoner and their Dutch girls all their hair shaved off run the gauntlet between rows of booing and shouting people.
It was amazing to see all the red, white and blue and orange flags, which people had managed to hide all those years and now waving them or draping the houses.
Very slowly after many parties and celebrations people went back to normal. It took many months to have a house of our own in Scheveningen again. (A Dutch Harbour by the sea in The Hague).
As it took a little while for the English to take over from the Germans in that area, only the schools were opened and my brother and I got our “Ausweis” to enter and later a permit from the English and once again we had a long way to walk to school and back home.
It also took a while to get food in the shops and unfortunately people still died from the starvation period before the end of the war.
It was very strange and eerie to see all the empty, plundered and damaged houses. After school time my brother and I went into some of the empty houses and we got the shock of our lives to find beds and German uniforms under the broken up floorboards.
One day a very sad thing happened when my brother Han, myself and 2 sons of the neighbours, a close family of our family, went to school and despite the warning not to take the shortcut via the open field with the hidden mines, the elder son Bobbie Ruis did just that. He stepped on a mine and was instantly killed. His little brother ran home and told his mother that he had seen Bobbie suddenly fly into the sky. The little boy had no idea that something very serious had happened.
It was a big shock to the parents of the boys, relatives, us and many more people who had known them.
I took it on me to try to get my parents a house to live in. They had decided not to go back to the old house and not to have a shop anymore.
So when people started to come back I asked them to tell me the name and address of their landlords which they were very reluctant to do so, as they were all still very afraid and suspicious of questions, even asked by children. One lady who was so scared, that I had to put my foot in the door (I got very used to this tactic) was at last convinced that my family's only aim was to live in peace as ordinary neighbours. She gave me the information I wanted and lo and behold I met this very kind landlord who gave me a whole bunch of keys of several houses.
My mother managed to get a day permit and we chose a house we liked best and was the least damaged. Also here, there were remains of a German's 'den' under the floorboards.
After the English had done their last duties and the Germans were taken prisoner, the area was free again and soon all the houses were occupied.
One nastier thing happened. The water in the canal near the tank-wall was contaminated. We did not know this and we never knew if this was done deliberately or not. As children used to play there every day and many swam in the water there was soon an epidemic of scabies which was very itchy and painful. My brother and I caught it as well. We had to be covered with a certain sulphur cream which we got from the Health Authorities. We had to sleep with this cream on us and the next day we had to be scrubbed with a hard brush and lots of soapy water. Our pyjamas and underwear we had worn that night had to be burned and we were asked to bring mattresses and bed linen to Health Centres to be burned.
However my mother cleaned everything herself and surprisingly we did not get this scabies back for a second time.
Our lives went slowly back to normal. The war was past and we all hoped for a better world and an everlasting peace.
Now I feel very sad that since 1945 wars happen in different countries all over the world.
Why can’t people live peacefully together?
Now the situations in the world are very risky, dangerous and threatening.
I hope and pray that we will never have a third world war but it is very worrying.
Dublin Core
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Title
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Coby van Riel - personal experiences in the war 1940-45
Description
An account of the resource
Begins in May 1940 in the Netherlands and relates experiences of start of war, invasion, air raids, casualties, air attack on Rotterdam, surrender of the Netherlands. Continues with account of events and life during occupation including regulations, treatment of Jewish people, German anti-invasion measures, forced relocation, starvation policy, lack of food and fuel for stoves, rationing, black market, speeches from Winston Churchill, raids by Germans on civilian population, cold winter 1944/45. Mentions launching of V-1s, increasing food shortages and measures used to get food. RAF dropping food at end of war. Concludes with account of times after war ended. Includes b/w and colour photographs.
Creator
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C van Riel
Temporal Coverage
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1940-05-10
1942
1944
1945
Spatial Coverage
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Netherlands
Netherlands--Rotterdam
Coverage
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Civilian
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Photograph
Format
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Fourteen page printed document with text and photographs
Conforms To
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Pending review
Identifier
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EvanRielCvanRielCv1
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
anti-Semitism
bombing
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
Operation Manna (29 Apr – 8 May 1945)
V-1
V-weapon
-
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Eyles, Bill
C W Eyles
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-04-10
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Eyles, CW
Description
An account of the resource
51 items. The collection concerns Bill Eyles DFM (900473 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book. notebooks, correspondence and photographs. He flew a tour as a bomb aimer with 78 Squadron and later a second tour with 35 Squadron Pathfinders.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Hazel King and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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FRANCAIS!
[sketch]
Le Gouvernement de la Grande Bretagne vient de signer un accord avec le Général de Gaulle, ainsi qu’en témoignent les documents suivants :-
1. Lettre de M. Winston Churchill
2. Texte de l’accord
3. Lettre du Général de Gaulle
T.S.V.P.
[page break]
1. Lettre de M. Winston Churchill
10, Downing Street,
Whitehall,
Londres.
7 Août 1940.
Mon cher Général,
Vous avec bien voulu me faire connaître vos idées relativement à l’organisation, á l’utilisation et aux conditions de service de la force de volontaires français actuellement en cours de constitution sous votre commandement, cela en votre qualité, qui vous est reconnue par le Gouvernement de Sa Majesté dans le Royaume-Uni, de chef de tous les Français libres où qu’ils soient, qui se rallient à vous pour deféndre la cause alliée.
Je vous envoie maintenenant un memorandum qui, si vous l’acceptez, constituera un accord entre nous relativement à l’organisation, à l’utilisation et aux conditions de service de vos forces.
Je saisis cette occasion pour declarer que le Gouvernement de Sa Majesté est résolu, lorsque les armes alliées auront remporté la victoire, à assurer la restauration intégrale de l’indépendance et de la grandeur de la France.
Sincérement á vous,
WINSTON S. CHURCHILL.
2. Texte de l’accord
I.
1. – Le Général de Gaulle procède à la constitution d’une force française constituée de volontaires. Cette force, qui comprend des unites navales terrestres, aériennes et des éléments techniques et utilisée contre les ennemis communs.
2. – Cette force ne pourra jamais porter les armes contre la France.
II.
1. – Cette force conservera, dans toute la mesure du possible, le caractére d’une force française, en ce qui concerne le personnel, particulierement pour ce qui a trait à la discipline, la langue, l’avancement et les affectations.
2. – Dans la mesure où son équipement l’exigera, cette force aura la priorité d’attribution, en ce qui concerne la propriété et l’usage du materiel (particuliérement des armes, avions, véhicules, munitions, machines et approvisionnements) déjà apporté par des forces françaises de toute origine ou qui pourra être apporté par de tells forces, dans les territoires places sous l’autorité du gouvernement de Sa Majesté dans le Royaume-Uni ou dans ceux sur lesquels le Haut-Commandement britannique exerce son autorité. Dans le cas ou le commandement d’une force française aura été délégué par le Général de Gaulle à la suite d’un accord avec le Haut-Commandement britannique, aucun transfert, échange ou reattribution des équipements, biens et matériels en possession de cette force ne sera ordonné par le Général de Gaulle sans consultation préalable et accord avec le Haut-Commandement britannique.
3. – Le Gouvernement de Sa Majesté fournira à la force française – dès que cela sera realisable – le complement de materiel indispensable pour doter ses unites d’un équipement equivalent à celui des unites britanniques du même type.
[page break]
4. – Les navires de la flotte française seront affectés de la maniére suivante:
(a) La force française armera et mettra en service tous les navires pour lesquels elle pourra fournir des équipages.
(b) L’affectation des navires armés et mis en service par la force franaise, en vertu de l’alinea (a), sera l’objet d’un accord entre le Général de Gaulle et l’Amirauté britannique, accord qui sera revu de temps à autre.
(c) Les navires qui ne seraient pas affectés à la force française en vertu de l’alinea (b) deviendront disponibles pour être armés et mis en service sous la direction de l’Amirauté britannique.
(d) Parmi les navires mentionnés sous (c) les uns pourront être mis en service sous le contrôle direct de l’Amirauté britannique, tandis que certains autres pourront être mis en service par d’autres forces navales alliées.
(e) Les équipages des navires mis en service sous le contrôle britannique comprendront, quand ce sera possible, une proportion d’officiers et de marins français.
(f) Tous les navires de la flotte française restent propriété française.
5. – L’utilisation possible des navires de commerce français et de leurs équipages, en tant qu’elle aura pour objet des operations militaires de la force du Général de Gaulle, donnera lieu à des arrangements entre le Général et les Ministères britanniques intéressés. Une liaison régulière sera établie entre le Ministère du Shipping et le Général de Gaulle pour ce qui concerne l’utilisation du reste des navires et des marins de commerce.
6. – Le Général de Gaulle, qui a le commandement supreme de la force française, declare, par les présentes qu’il accepte les directives générales du Commandement britannique. En cas de besoin, il déléguera d’accord avec le Haut-Commandement britannique, le commandement immédiat de telle ou telle partie de sa force, à un ou à plusieurs officiers britannique de rang approprié, sans que ceci affecte ce qui est dit à la fil de l’Article I.
III.
Le statut des volontaires français sera établi de la manière suivante:
1. – Les volontaires s’engageront pour la durée de la guerre, afin de combattre les ennemis communs.
2. – Ils recevront une solde don’t la base sera déterminée séparément par accord entre le Général de Gaulle et les Ministéres intéressés. La période de temps pendant laquelle le taux de ces soldes sera applicable, sera fixée par voie d’accord entre le Général de Gaulle et la Gouvernement de Sa Majesté.
3. – Les volontaires et les personnes à leur change bénéficieront de pensions et autres prestations, en cas d’invalidité on de dééès des volontaires, sur une base qui sera déterminée par des accords séparés entre le Général de Gaulle et les Ministères intéressés.
4. – Le Général de Gaulle aura le droit de créer un organisme civil comportant les services administratifs nécessaires à l’organisation de sa force. Les effectifs et les émoluments des membres de cet organisme seront fixés en consultation avec la Trésorerie britannique.
5. – Le Général a également le droit de recruiter un personnel technique et scientifique travaillant à la guerre. Les effectifs, le mode de retribution et l’utilisation [missing word] personnel seront fixés en consultation avec les Ministéres intéresses du Gouvernement de Sa Majesté.
6. – Le Gouvernement de Sa Majesté dans le Royaume-Uni fera tous ses efforts, lors de la conclusion de la paix, pour aider les volontaires français à rentrerdans tous les droits, y compris la nationalité, don’t ils pourront avoir étè privés en consequence de leur participation à la lute contre
[page break]
l’ennemi commun. Le Gouvernement de Sa Majesté est dispose à fournir à ces volontaires des facilités spéciales pour acquérir la nationalité britannique et se fera donner tous les pouvoirs nécessaires à cet effet.
IV.
1. – Toutes les dépenses engages pour la constitution et l’entretien de la force française suivant les prévisions du present accord, seront provisoirement à la charge des Ministéres intéressés du Gouvernement de Sa Majesté dans le Royaume-Uni; ceux-ci auront le droit de procéder à tous examens et verifications nécessaires.
2. – Les montants payés à ce titre seront considérés comme des avances et comptabilisés à part. Toutes les questions relatives au règlement final de ces avances, ainsi que des montants qui auront pu être crédités en contrepartie d’un commun accord, seront l’objet d’un arrangement ultérieur.
V.
Le présent accord sera considéré comme produisant effet à compter du ler Juillet 1940.
3. Lettre du Général de Gaulle
Carlton Gardens No. 4.
Londres.
7 Août 1940.
Monsieur le Premier Ministre,
Vous avez bien voulu m’envoyer un memorandum relative à l’organisation, à l’utilisation et aux conditions de service de la force de volontaires français, actueriement en [indecipherable word] constitution sous mon commandement.
En ma qualité reconnue par le Gouvernement de Sa Majesté dans le Royaume-Uni, de chef de tous les Français libres oú qu’ils soient, qui se rallient à moi pour défendre la cause alliée, je viens vous faire connaître que j’accepte ce memorandum. Il sera considéré comme constituent un accord conclu entre nous, relativement à ces questions.
Je suis heureux qu’a cette occasion le Gouvernement Britannique ait tenu à affirmer qu’il est résolu, lorsque les armes alliées auront remporté la Victoire, à assurer la restauration intégrale de l’indépendance et de la grandeur de la France.
De mon côté, je vous confirme que la force française en voie de constitution, est destinée à participer aux operations contre les ennemis communs (Allemagne, des territoires français et des territoires sous mandate [missing words] des territoires sous mandate britannique.
Veuillez agréer, Monsieur le Premier Ministre, l’assurance de ma haute consideration.
de GAULLE.
The Rt. Hon. Winston Spencer Churchill, C.H., M.P.,
Prime Minister,
10, Downing Street,
Whitehall.
VIVE LA FRANCE!
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Notice to the French
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Document stating that the government of Great Britain had signed an accord with General de Gaulle. Includes letters in French from Winston Churchill and General de Gaulle and text of the accord.
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1940-04-07
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Four page printed document
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fra
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MEylesCW900473-170410-07
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Civilian
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1940-08-07
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Pending text-based transcription. Under review
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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.
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Steve Baldwin
Jan Waller
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1858/33473/BDavyHDavyHv1.1.pdf
c0d8b39f8730f4a4159c30d53ea11917
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Davy, H
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IBCC Digital Archive
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2017-06-01
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
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Davy, H
Description
An account of the resource
18 items. The collection concerns H Davy (1852721 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, memoir and photographs. He flew operations as an air gunner with 626 Squadron.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Nancy Davy and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
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General memories
I volunteered for Aircrew aged 18 and after examinations and Medical reported for duty in March 1943.
RAF Number 1852721 (only the last three numbers were used)
Ops as detailed but not counted as part of tour 3
Number of ops 31
Therefore apart from training total number of ops was 34
I trained for 12 to 15 months in different places. As civilians we reported to Air Crew Reception Centre, at Lord's Cricket Ground in "The Long Room" London for three weeks. (6.98.A) We ate in the Zoo restaurant. Then to Initial Training Wing (ITW) Bridlington, Morpeth for Gunnery school where I was the course leader. Final exams had 98% Loved what I was doing. A Martinet towed a drogue for the rest of us to practise our gunnery skills above the North Sea. Wymeswold for "crewing-up", then Castle Donington to start training as a crew (Operational Training Unit); Lindholme Heavy conversion unit (HCU) to train on 4 engine bombers (Halifaxes); Hemswell Lancaster finishing school where we converted to Lancasters before going on to the Squadron in May 1944.
At ACRC I remember John Newbegin from Alnwick. I was in the bunk above him. He asked my name, I replied "Spike" and thereafter he called me Spike.
At the medical line up I was called in early. The MO said "Mr. Davy meet Mrs Davy". She was Thelma the wife of my cousin from Calstock. We had never met but she recognised my name on the list.
A lot of men were killed during training.
At Bridlington I got Scarlet Fever & confined to isolation hospital for six weeks. Plus two weeks recuperation leave which put me eight weeks behind those I joined up with.
When I went to Uxbridge for final Demob two others from that original intake said to me "We thought you were dead" They had accounted for only nine out of the sixty still alive. So perhaps scarlet fever saved my life.
To Wymeswold for 3 weeks Operation Training Unit (OTU).
At Wymeswold 200 or 300 crew were put into a hut and told to make up crews. Before this we were marching from place to place (perhaps to a lecture) and I was next to Sam Collens and we talked about our training experiences. I had passed out as 2nd out of 60 as a gunner. Sam said to me Harry Merry will join me as Flight Engineer, will you join us and I said yes can I be Rear Gunner and he replied yes you are my first crew member. After that the whole 626 aircrew intake was taken to a hut and instructed to form crews. All the men mingled and talked and somehow Sam collected his crew together. Tommy Birch BA, Joe Slack MUG, Ron Rainbird WO. Harry Merry would not join us until we had completed our initial training on twin-engined Wellingtons, the reason being that only 4 engine bombers carries a Flight Engineer. Harry joined us at Lindholme, a heavy conversion unit for 4 engine Halifaxes. Sam had met a Navigator Ted Davies, a pharmacist from Northhampton [sic]. A Welshman, short stature, handlebar moustache, super chap. I gelled with him from the beginning & were great pals. His wife was running the business during his absence.
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After Wymeswold half the contingent stayed there & half including us went to Castle Donnington for OTU.
We used ex-operational, clapped out Wellingtons for 6 weeks training. Very happy there. The Sword of Damacles hung over us as the culmination of this course was a series of decoy flights across the North Sea to draw German fighters away from the main Bomber stream. Also to carry out leaflet raids over Europe, in our case Paris. (called ops as detailed but not counted as operational). Bear in mind the Wellington had two engines & if one failed the plane could not get back on one engine. This meant they either crashed or ditched in the sea. Some crashed on take-off, one into the woods at the end of the run-way & all crew lost.
From Castle Donnington to Lindholme near Doncaster for Heavy Conversion Unit (HCU) & onto 4 engine heavy Halifaxes. Here Harry Merry joined us. A few weeks doing practice flights.
From there to Lancaster finishing school at Hemswell nr Gainsborough, Lincolnshire for final training in Lancs. End of training. Then posted to Operational Squadron, One Group Bomber Command, 626 Squadron at Wickenby near Lincoln.
Throughout the time of training as a crew we were warned on numerous occasions that if we withdrew from training no action would be taken, but if we withdrew after completion of training we would be reduced to ranks, loose [sic] our wings, & all documents would have Lack of Moral Fibre written across them. (Cowardice in the face of the enemy). We would then be sent to a correction establishment at Sheffield before being posted into the Army.
At OTU the final chance was given. On this occasion the Navigator Ted Davies left the crew as his wife was bordering on a nervous breakdown due to his flying career. He wanted to go on but withdrew.
Immediately navigator Jack Leuty joined us. He was an "odd bod" waiting to join a crew. He had spent time training navigators in Canada and his experiences meant he had flown cross country from brightly lit city to city whereas in Britain we had had blackouts for four years.
Most of our operations were at night in the dark.
When we were on the Squadron Joe Slack left us and was replaced by an Irishman Paddy Fulton.
At the end of our own tour of 30 ops (31 actually) we went on 6 months rest from operational duty. Paddy had not completed 30 ops so was posted to another crew. He begged to stay with us, even cried, but was not allowed to. He was killed on his next op with the new crew.
At Wickenby
Pilot – Pilot Officer B.A. (Sam) Collens
Flight Engineer – Sergeant Harry Merry
Navigator – Flight Lieutenant Jack Leuty
Mid Upper Gunner – Sergeant John (Paddy) Fulton
Bomb Aimer – Sergeant Tommy Birch
Wireless Operator – Sergeant Ron (Ronald Thomas) Rainbird
Rear Gunner – Sergeant Herbert Davy (then k/a Bert now k/a Herb or Herbie)
Crews became closer than brothers. Age 19 I was the youngest of our crew. We spent leisure time together, drank together, spent leave together (Sam & Tommy came to Saltash). Relied on each other in the aircraft. We knew we might die together.
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Accommodation was it [sic] huts. Officers had separate accommodation so Sam slept apart from us. We would wake some mornings and find 6 (or 7) empty beds in our hut. It was a fact of life that promotion was rapid because of the high rate of casualties and turnover of Aircrew.
Take off --- us from Wickenby
Up to 1 hour to climb to 10,000ft
500 planes all circling
Congregate over Mablethorpe, Lincs
9p.m. all navigation lights out
All to go in one direction across North Sea
Sometimes collisions in the dark
Could get caught up in the slipstream of the aircraft ahead and crash
Over the targets bombs dropping all around from other planes, from above.
Look up and see gaping open bomb doors in plane above
One fell between our wing and tail
Interrogation after each operation. (Now called de-briefing)
Model -- Lanc III manufactured in Canada
Didn't use the same plane each time because we had 7 days leave every 6 weeks and they were used by other crews. The one we used last may have been shot down.
I remember three in particular:
Sugar 2 S2
Victor 2 V2
Roger 2 R2 Also known as Bennets Beavers
Each Squadron had letters 12 was PH 626 was UM
Each plane in each squadron had a letter – 12 just the letter, 626 the letter plus 2
Station code name/call sign was GRATEFUL
e.g. our plane would be UM O R2
Also V2 H2 Y2 U2 T2 Z2 L2
When R2 (known as Bennetts Beavers after a previous pilot) became available Sam asked to use it because he knew it was a faster aircraft than others.
We now know PA990 R2 Bennetts Beavers was a "ton-up" Lanc. One of few that went out on and survived 100 operations or more. (105; some didn't even come back from one).
Roger 2 was the plane we used when we flew down across Kit Hill and Liskeard (where I could see our milkman delivering), the Lizard, 300 miles out into the Atlantic by daylight & under 1000ft to keep below the German RADAR & into Pauillac (near Bordeaux) to bomb
[page break]
the oil tank farm. (I now know I flew across Coombe Park, a farm where Luke held Nancy (age 5) in his arms to see the planes passing overhead, August 4th 1944).
We used R2 for Westkapelle.
Westkapelle was our last op. In 2005 I read that our Navigator was F/O L. Andrews. I have no recollection whatsoever of this substitute or why Jack Leuty wasn't with us. I remember the day well and it is recorded for the Polderhuis Museum at Westkapelle.
Again in 2005 I was asked if the crew ever swapped places. Some records showed that crews did, or flew with substitutes, but then records may not be correct. They were sometimes based on the planes that crews usually flew, not the ones they actually did fly.
The only time we did swap was when we returned from one op with a bomb still on board. We could not land (for fear of blowing up on the runway) so had to dispose of the bomb in the North Sea as was usual practice. Sam asked Tommy if he would like to pilot the plane, (he certainly would and did) and I went to bomb aimer's position and directed the bomb down to a wave I had my eye on. I cannot remember who covered my position.
Corkscrewing to avoid German air attack. The responsibility of the Rear Gunner was the protection of the plane and crew. He was required to give 100% concentration on continually scanning the sky – especially the dark side – to give adequate warning and instruction to the Pilot on what evasive action to take. Highly trained in aircraft recognition.
Majority of enemy fighter attacks were from dark side of the sky so that we were silhouetted against the light. The RG had to concentrate his search on the dark side when the tendency would be to look to the light. (Instructions said never look at lights) e.g. if the attack came from port side the RG would instruct Pilot to corkscrew port – first a 1000ft dive to port followed by 1000ft climb to starboard, then 1000ft dive to starboard followed by 1000ft climb to port which would bring the plane back to it's normal flight path. This procedure was repeated until the fighter abandoned his chase or either of us was shot down. (We now know that some German pilots gave up when they saw that we were alert and ready, and went in search of an easier target.) During a corkscrew anything loose and moveable inside the plane would speedily fly round and cause damage. Especially stomach contents!!
We used T2 for Frankfurt when we were badly shot up. We went via Mannheim in error (Don't know the reason why – navigational, wind, what? I do not know why we should be separated from the others by 50 miles or so.) Approaching what we thought was the target Frankfurt, B/A Tommy offered to help Navigator Jack by describing the ground scene. It was clear moonlight and he described the railway lines and river. "We're following the rail line now the river now the river divides" It obviously differed from the map because Jack said "Did you say the river divides? Christ we're over Mannheim!" That's when the blue searchlight came up. We were coned in searchlights, Sam called up "what shall I do Bert?" I replied "dive to port at top speed & get the hell out of here". I remember seeing the wings flapping. Speed was registered 400mph. by Harry Merry. (normal operating speed was between 180 – 210mph) dropped 18,000ft to 14,000ft. We were badly attacked by anti-aircraft guns, anything they could throw at us. After recovery, Sam said "navigator give me a course for Frankfurt". I can remember my thoughts-they are unprintable. I thought we'd had it. We were way after the main attack so we were a lone aircraft, vulnerable again but apparently not noticed/recognised by ground defences. Perhaps because we approached from the South instead of North. The target marker was still visible so dropped the bombs &
[page break]
returned for home. Sam said "course for Woodbridge" The port side engine had to be feathered because the fuel tank had been punctured. I saw what I thought was smoke and reported one engine on fire, but it was fuel. Wireless operator went back through plane & felt what he thought was blood on mid-upper gunner. "He's had it" Minutes later crackle on line & MUG said "what's the matter with you lot. I can't get any reply". He was covered in hydraulic fluid. Tommy reported bomb bay doors would not close. At some stage I know I opened my door to get back into the plane and to my parachute if were possible.
We had to land at Woodbridge an emergency airfield in Suffolk with a 5000yd runway, on three engines & bomb doors open. No radio & not knowing if undercarriage was down. The next day when we inspected the plane and talked this is what we found:
Each member of the crew had evidence of his position being damaged by missiles. I had a hold 2 inches in diameter where the doors joined (centre of backrest) behind my seat and in the gunmounting in front of me. The pilot and flight engineer sat side by side on the flight deck. There were holes in the Perspex either side of the flight deck where their heads would normally be. Tommy lying on his stomach in the bombing position had shrapnel in his harness over his heart. There were holes at all crew positions. Did we all lean sideways to look at something at the same time? There was a hole in the bomb door and a dent in the top of the bomb bay obviously caused before the bomb was dropped. Why didn't the 4000lb bomb explode inside the plane?
The thoughts that went through my mind when we were over Mannheim:
If I get out of the plane where would I land? On buildings, trees, water, forest?
On our second trip to Stettin
Did all the crew fall asleep returning over the North Sea? It was a crime. Crossed North Sea, crossed Denmark, across Sweden over Malmo, across the Baltic then to Stettin. Returned the same route. After crossing Danish coast into the North Sea I heard Bomb Aimer say to Navigator "We are just crossing the Danish coast" The Navigator replied "our ETA on English coast one hour" The next thing I can remember is hearing the Bomb Aimer's voice "hello Navigator, just crossing the English coast". Two or three nights later we were in the Adam & Eve (pub) Wragby. It was my turn to buy the drinks. Harry Merry helped me. He said "You were asleep in your turret, I saw you when I went to the Elsan". He passed the Wireless operator who was asleep at his table, no reaction from Mid Upper Gunner, climbed over Elsan slid down to rear turret looked through window & saw me slouched over guns. Retraced his steps shone torch down into Bomb Aimer & saw Tommy asleep. Thought to himself I will keep watch. Pilot asleep in his seat & next thing Harry knew was when Tommy said "just cross English coast". Meaning that at one point the whole crew had been asleep. Reasoning --- on this long trip we were issued with two wakey-wakey pills to be taken at regular intervals (4 hourly periods). Perhaps we took them too early & when the effect wore off they left you feeling very drowsy.
The lights of Malmo – memorable after the darkness of Britain.
Premonitions
One day the rear turret was leaking oil. I told Pilot we could not or should not fly. He agreed. Terrible losses that night. The next day the leak had cleared up. Afterwards other crew asked did I have a premonition. Yes. They all did too. Harry Merry said "Why didn't you want to fly in that raid?" I replied "Because if we had we would not be here now". He said he agreed & that other crew had felt the same without mentioning names.
[page break]
Over Stettin, over target, a voice from the cockpit said "crumbs, there's a bloody fighter coming straight for us!" They envisaged a head-on collision. I saw it as it passed over and above us. I was sure it was an Me262 the first true jet fighter.
Over 50 years later I met Dave Wellard, another Rear Gunner from 626 Squadron who lived in Saltash and he told me the same story. (We had never met before.) His plane was on the same mission. Were we side by side? Was there only the one fighter or two? He also recognised it as an Me262.
After we finished flying Sam was posted to RAF Whitchurch, Bristol. Harry Merry came down from Weeton, Lancs where he was stationed. I came from Avonmouth where I was stationed & met at pub at Whitchurch. When I walked in the door Harry shook my hand and said "Here's old Cat's Eyes. If it hadn't been for you, you bugger, we wouldn't be here now". He always called me Cat's Eyes.
Jack Leuty always asking for a fag, but when someone asked him for one he said "I'll sell you ten" I can remember being absolutely disgusted with his attitude. He was the only crew member who kept aloof from any of the others.
Mrs Lane a customer said to me when she heard I was joining the RAF "you might meet my son Pat" We didn't know each other. One day in the dispersal someone was using my cleaning rods without asking permission. I said to him "Next time ask". He had a Cornish accent. Told me he was from Saltash so I said to him "I suppose you are Pat Lane" He nearly fell over in surprise. "how the hell do you know that?"
Clothes:
Aircrew: I think only the gunners were issued with mustard-yellow coloured buoyancy suits but they proved to be far too bulky especially for Rear gunners because although it was possible to squeeze into the turret with them on it was virtually impossible to escape quickly. I never saw anyone wear one on operations!!! Consider temperature in the rear turret could be as low as -40° C. The main fuselage of the Lanc had hot air ducted from the engines hence the rest of the crew did not need to dress like rear gunners. Also rear gunners removed the Perspex window to get better vision. See photo of HD standing beside turret.
Order of dressing:
1. Long johns – made of wool plated with silk. 2 pieces long sleeved vest and full length pants.
2. RAF issue socks
3. Shirt and tie
4. RAF uniform trousers
5. "SUB" socks. Socks from toe to crotch Naval issue, thick knit (Submarine)
6. "SUB" sweater as above. Full length sleeves and hip length.
7. Thin cotton type electrically heated suit
8. Battle dress top
9. Electrically heated slippers
10. Fur lined leather boots (Escape variety, cut the tops off with the knife in an inside little pocket and they looked like shoes)
11. Silk gloves
12. Woollen mittens and small woollen scarf
13. Padded heated gauntlets
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14. Leather gauntlets with zips and elasticated top
15. MAE West floatation waistcoat filled with kapok
16. Parachute harness
17. Leather helmet with oxygen mask, microphone and earphones
We would take half an hour to dress, especially in summer. It was important not to get sweaty because it would freeze when we were airborne in cold temperatures.
It was impossible to use bodily functions in the rear turret. Sometimes for up to 10 or 11 hours. I drank little during the day before an op. The other crew could use the Elsan toilet situated in the aircraft behind the rear turret. I was only once airsick. I used one of my gauntlets and then threw it out the window. The gauntlet was replaced.
My parachute had to be stored in the aircraft behind the rear turret. If I needed it in a hurry it would have been impossible to get at it.
Personal Survival kit: (for all Bomber Crews) called Escape Kit.
Waterproof flat pouch approx 6x5 inches containing maps of European countries printed on silk each about 7 inches square, together with currency of European countries for use as necessary if shot down, could be used either to "pay" helpers or bribe people.
Celluloid flat box approx 5x4 inches containing 1 razor, 1 blade, 1 tube condensed milk, Horlicks tablets, aspirins, adhesive plasters, amongst other things now forgotten.
Compasses: small compasses were hidden on the uniform. E.g. a uniform button which unscrewed with a left-hand thread (to fox the Germans). A navigator's pencil which when broken in half revealed a bar compass on a piece of thread. Another small compass was sewn behind the brevet (flying wing badge).
Two metal trouser fly buttons when balanced one on top of the other had a white spot which indicated North
We were told that some crews who miraculously escaped their plane complained that the tube of shaving soap was useless. Of course it was an unlabelled tube of condensed milk.
Flying Rations for each operation consisited [sic] of 1 x two ounce bar of Fry's chocolate cream, 1 x two ounce bar of milk chocolate, one packet of chewing gum, and 1 x 4 fluid ounce can of orange juice. One Benzadrine (wakey-wakey pill) which once taken kept you awake for four hours.
To open my small tin of orange juice in the turret I pierced it with a bullet held sharp end down which I hit with my other hand.
Pair of fleece lined shoes attached to gaiters. One gaiter had a small knife concealed inside. On crash landing gaiters were to be cut off so that shoes would look like normal ones.
The Rear Gunner in his turret was not inside the plane but on a "platform" at the rear. To clamber into the turret was a time consuming and awkward business. The Elsam toilet at the rear of the fuselage had a hinged lid secured by an elastic rope. This was the RG's step onto a plywood shute. Partway down the shute was a hinged door secured by another elastic rope which closed automatically after passing through. Once through that door you placed your parachute pack in stowage on the port side of the aircraft, on hooks and again secured by elastic rope. Then still sliding, through two small sliding doors which were closed behind you after entry, forming a backrest. The gunner sat on a small lightly upholstered shelf-like seat for the duration of the operation with no room to move around. One door had a small porthole window. Plug in intercom & oxygen mask and check guns, sights etc. Equipped with 4x
[page break]
.303 Browning machine guns. The windows were Perspex which after cleaning became scratched, difficult to see through and susceptible to glare from searchlights & suchlike. Most RG's cut a panel 3ft high x 1ft wide out of the main window between the guns. The temperature could be up to -40°C. If the engines failed there was no power to the rear turret so I could do nothing.
If I needed to escape from my turret, or had the opportunity to bale out, I had to open the small doors behind me (my backrest), & manoeuvre back up the shute to pick up my parachute, then through the first door back into the fuselage proper. In theory in an emergency it should have been possible to turn the turret around and fall backwards out of the "backrest" doors. If the engines failed, no power so I could do nothing other than laboriously hand-crank the turret using two handles, one in each hand and each turning opposite to the other.
I was facing backwards in my turret so had to remember when giving observations and instructions to the other crew that "port was starboard".
I used to regularly mentally practice how I would get out if I had the opportunity. I never wore my cumbersome buoyancy suit. I removed my Perspex window for better vision and I decided I would rather die of cold than being shot down in flames. On the trip which took us to Mannheim in error I can remember I opened my "backrest" doors ready for evacuation if that were to be possible.
Rear Gunners were usually the first target for German fighter planes, and they were often the worst casualties of other attacks or crash landings. A Lanc could land at home base minus the R.G. There were stories of turrets being hosed out.
I am sometimes asked if I was afraid. Of course most of us were scared before take-off, but once airborne training took over and we all did our jobs. Anyone who professed to no fear often took stupid chances and made mistakes. Over the targets and when under attack we just had to get on with it, took evasive action when possible and hoped to survive. Once the bombs had gone there was a sense of relief but also easy to drop your guard. After leaving the target many planes were shot down by the following German fighters. I always said a prayer before take-off and heaved a sigh of relief and thanks each time my turret touched down at Wickenby. I know that our crew was among the lucky ones.
Many Aircrew carried a lucky charm or item on every op. and most carried out small rituals before take-off. When I was training my sister Peggy gave me a Cornish Piskie (Joan the Wad) bronze lapel brooch which I wore on my battle dress jacket all the time.
Sam carried a whole cashew nut. The others did not say if they carried such things.
Before briefing we usually had a shrewd idea of the sort of destination. The ground crew could tell from the fuel load and bomb load whether it was to be a long trip or short one thus guessing it would be Germany or Occupied Territories.
Briefing.
Pubs:
When at Bridlington the "Dun'cow" near Newcastle.
When at Castle Donnington the "Turk's Head". (with Sam & crew)
When at Lindholme the pub at Hatfield Woodhouse. (with Sam & crew)
When at Wickenby the "Adam & Eve" at Wragby (with Sam & crew) because the pub at
[page break]
Wickenby was a long way from our billets and a long way to walk. Mainly No. 12 Squadron used it.
Once or twice when in London on leave Sam, Harry & I, went to the "Queens" in Leicester Square til closing time 2p.m. Then to the Hong Kong Chinese Restaurant Shaftsbury Avenue. Then back to the "Queens" at 6p.m. Nearly all Aircrew there.
If we weren't on the battle order for that night we would all go down to the pub. The exception was Jack Leuty Navigator who seemed to keep himself to himself off duty. We made the most of each day because none of us knew if we would return from our operations. We did not go to the pub when we were on battle order.
I can remember one incident. Montgomery was held up at Caen the most heavily defended city in Normandy. He asked Bomber Command to destroy the German front lines so that 2nd Army could advance towards Germany. We had to bomb in daylight because the Allied Force was only 1200yds from the bombing area. Unfortunately the weather was bad so we were told to stand by in camp until it cleared. After three days there was no let up in the weather so most crews went down to the "Adam & Eve" for a few beers. At around 9p.m. the Wing Commander walked in. He very quietly said "I think you chaps should be back in bed, not down here". We knew what that meant so we all duly returned to billets.
We were woken at about 2a.m. to prepare for ops. (breakfast, dress, briefing etc) The briefing was to bomb the target short of the Allied lines. We were told the Americans had bombed the previous day and hit the Allied lines. En route I wanted to vomit probably because of the beer the previous night – the only time I ever felt sick. That's when I was sick in my gauntlet & tossed it out through the clear vision panel. As we approached the target area we saw "box barrage" of flak put up by the Germans. We were flying at approx. 12000ft, and the barrage was approx 1000ft above and below us. Like a curtain or a lethal Commando boarding net hanging in the sky. We had to fly straight through it. I personally witnessed seven Lancs go down. I have since met members of the Expediency Force who were on the ground who told me in words to the effect "your bombing was wonderful-not like those Americans yesterday. Not one of your bombs landed on our lines".
Coming home after one operation with landing lights on we were attacked by USA planes.
Sam to W/O "send up colour of the day"
Did they mistake us for Doodlebugs which had a red tail?
After the tour of operations all Aircrew were given a six months rest job before going back to another tour of flying operations. I was posted to report to an Aircrew Allocation Centre on a small disused airfield called Bracla near Nairn in North of Scotland. (Moray Firth). October. It seemed the coldest place on earth. The others were sent to different places. Don't know why and don't know why I was sent to Bracla. We were interviewed for three weeks for a choice of "Rest Jobs". Harry Merry was at Weeton, Lancashire. Can't remember where Sam and the others went. Tommy did Instructing.
Given three choices:
1. Embarkation Assistant, Movement Control, Ships in Ports in ports anywhere in the UK being responsible for meeting personnel and families on leave from abroad and checking RAF cargoes mostly from America and Canada (supplies for Armed Forces).
2. Transport.
3. To be an Instructor of Aircrews.
At the end of the three weeks we were allowed to choose. I was allowed my first choice
[page break]
Embarkation Control because I was interested in ships. Also someone had told me it was a nice job. Posted to a Service Camp at Kirkham near Preston, Lancashire for three weeks training for my new job. Discovered that Harry Merry was only twelve miles away but unable to meet because of the vagaries of transport in those days.
Then to Port of Bristol Authority – Avonmouth Docks where I was billeted with a civilian family the Bentleys. (Their son later played soccer for England team). Many happy weeks in that area. Among my duties there I was involved with unloading a ship carrying 128 wives and families returning from the West Indies on a banana boat which brought the first consignment of Fyffes bananas to England since 1939. Wonderful to taste this delicacy after so many years (1945). Had a good time in the docks boarding ships and receiving hospitality. Whilst I was there V.E. Day was celebrated with street parties. During my time there met up with Sam & Harry in a pub.
After that I was posted to Newhaven, Sussex, checking RAF personnel coming ashore on the cross-channel ferries from France. Again billeted with a civilian family Mrs. Bishop.
Another happy time.
At Newhaven I was expecting to be recalled to flying duties to Burma when V.J. Day was announced. Shortly afterwards my father without my knowledge managed to obtain a compassionate discharge for me to return to the family butchery business in Saltash. I was furious. Later I understood that all ranks except officers were demoted and sent to other jobs. Many of course continued flying.
Afterwards.
At the completion of flying operations crews would part with a handshake and promise to keep in touch. Of course many did, some went on to illustrious careers and many have kept up contact with various Squadron and Aircrew Associations but strange as it may seem now a large number lost contact. Some were traumatised, some just wanted to forget. Some wanted nothing more to do with Service life. We all got on with our lives and some like me suffered no post-war trauma but never forgot those years. It was my impression that Jack Leuty and Ron Rainbird did not want to continue the bond we had made.
Sam, Harry & I met up a couple of times. Sam married Brenda and came to Cornwall for their honeymoon.at [sic] Looe. They & Harry returned to the West Indies.
I married Nancy in 1959 and she will tell you that it doesn't take much to trigger a story or on meeting a stranger soon find I was stationed in their part of the country.
In 1959 Sam, Brenda and their four young boys came to Plymouth on a liner, stayed in a bed and breakfast in Saltash for a couple of nights and spent time with us. Then we lost touch again. One day (date not known) Tommy and Jenny came to Saltash from Leigh-on-Sea and looked me up in the shop. I was another of our depots, and left instructions not to forward telephone calls. However, Nancy phoned and said "a call for you". Tommy's voice came over the line "Bomb Aimer to Rear Gunner". The start of a renewed and lifelong friendship.
Nancy remarked how eerie it was to hear the same stories and memories from a complete stranger.
I knew a Merchant Navy Captain who was going to Trinidad and asked him to find Harry Merry for me. He came back with an address.
As a surprise for our 25th Wedding Anniversary Nancy wrote to Harry and asked him to telephone on a certain day, certain time, and if he knew where Sam was to ask him to phone too. Sam & Brenda by now living in Canada.
Tommy & Jenny stayed with us for the anniversary (a party for family and friends) and lo and behold at the designated hour the phone rang & it was Harry, then Sam. What a reunion
[page break]
down the line. Sam & Brenda came to stay with us on a visit to England and we had a most wonderful time. Harry died before Nancy could meet him. After Sam's untimely death Brenda came again and we to Missasauga. Tommy died having a heart attack whilst driving, but we keep up with Jenny.
On leave Sam came to Saltash once or twice with me.
Tommy came twice. On one occasion we put my motor bike on the train at Wickenby to London, somehow got across London then by train to Bristol. We had come straight from an op with no sleep so were very tired. I said I know a place in Weston Super Mare that might be able to put us up so we rode there. It was a sort of hotel/retirement home (so-called in those days for retired gentle folk) where my father used to stay on his Ministerial visits. Mr. Cottle the owner recognised me and said of course he could find us beds. After a good breakfast the next morning he would not let us pay anything. The dear old ladies there were very excited to see us. We then took the train to Plymouth. Got fed up with the slow start/stop journey so got off at a place called Bittaford near Plymouth and rode the bike the rest of the way and across the river to Saltash on the vehicle ferry. Because there were railings and a swing gate at Bittaford we had to manoeuvre the bike over them to the road. I had not told my parents that I had started flying on ops, and on one visit Tommy said "Isn't it time you told them?" We were at the "Notter Bridge" pub at the time. Father was very proud and after that when I was on leave in the shop he would say "This is my son who is . . . . . . . . . . ."
Now. A note from Nancy 2005
Herb is now 81 years old, (going on 65) still energetic with a vivid and accurate memory and I have been recording it all on the computer. Still adding to it. What started off as little memory joggers has grown into a full story. These are not the ramblings of an old man!!!!! All his life he has remembered his experiences of those RAF days as vividly as though they were yesterday. His interest in planes and ships and that training has stayed with him and his observations are as acute as ever. Over the years he has often been asked to give talks and his Rear Gunner reminiscences are always popular. Especially one entitled "When Port Was Starboard". He has only recently told me he still repeats his little mental flying rituals whenever he takes to the air --- on holiday or any flight. Amongst his photographs and memorabilia is his lucky Piskie charm.
[page break]
In 2009 during an interview he was asked what he thought about when on operations --- mother & sister perhaps? He replied once airborne all his thoughts were directed to being alert and scanning the sky and doing his job. But afterwards he told me that yes, he and Tommy had thought of their mothers and how devasted they would have been if anything had happened to them.
Heard that crews were very happy when they saw Lincoln Cathedral in sight on approaching base. How did I feel? "Well I never saw it because I was in the rear facing backwards."
Very relieved when the rear wheel touched down.
Between 1st day or [sic] war September 1939 and May 1945
Of every 100 Aircrew
Killed 51 51%
Crashes in England 9 )
Seriously injured 3 )
Prisoners of war 12 ) 25%
Evaded capture 1 )
Survived unharmed 24 24%
Of that 24% none were actually unscathed. All have stories of near-misses, lucky escapes etc. etc.
[page break]
55,000 Bomber Command aircrew lost their lives out of a total of 110,000. Rate of loss never before borne by a Military Force of comparable size in the history of the world.
Entitled to Defence Medal (ARP Messenger 1940-1941), & Part-time National Fire Service. 1942-1943 (No. Had to be in for 3 years)
39/45 Star
France and Germany Medal
Victory Medal (War Medal)
Apparently not eligible for Aircrew Europe Medal because I did not fly on operations prior to D-Day (6th June 1944), but I was on Squadron 5th June 1944 and detailed to act as Rear gunner because of illness of another crew member. Unfortunately he heard there was something momentous going to happen that night and pronounced himself fit so I did not fly. But in Feb & March our crew had flown 3 "operations as detailed" over Europe which didn't count. (See logbook)
Harris asked Churchill for a Bomber Command Campaign Medal, but Churchill refused. Montgomery & Tedder etc were all given Earldoms. They only made Harris a Knight. A lot of Bomber Command Aircrew took it as a personal insult but apparently it was his wish that he be given no higher award unless his Bomber crews were given recognition.
I was not alone by any means in refusing to apply for my campaign medals. They knew where we were when they needed us, but if we wanted our medals we had to apply for them.
We supported Harris.
After the War Churchill omitted to include and thank Bomber Command for their involvement.
[page break]
July 18th 2012 We went to London to see the new Bomber Command Memorial.
2013 Bomber Command "veterans" were awarded a "clasp". He was not going to apply for it.
During and after the War new regulations. Medals were presented to serving crew but if they had already left the service they had to apply for them. Was that in 1948 or before? We now know they had to ask for a buff postcard at the Post Office in order to apply.
July 2013 Applied for all medals
Applied for Membership of Bomber Command
August 2013 Nancy trying to find proof he was in the Fire Service
Memories of being in the National Fire Service, Saltash 1942 (previously Auxiliary Fire Service)
Must have had a number. Cannot remember having a photo taken.
Had to give up uniform (overalls) but kept the axe. Is it in this house somewhere?
David Coles, George Rees, Douglas Vosper, Colin Squires father.
The London Fire Brigade were given a rest from the London Blitz by being sent to the country i.e. Saltash. One called himself Flicker because his name was really Fricker.
One was an architect from Maida Vale.
From David Coles -- Two were husband & wife, there is a photo at Heritage. Sidney and Hilda Basset.
There appear to be no records or photos of NFS 1942, presumably because none were taken or had been destroyed during destruction.
2nd Sept 2013
Andrew found the axe in the roof along with some flying "souvenirs".
Axe No. 553 758 (or it could be 555 758).
[page break]
Leggings part of rear runner flying boots with inner little pocket (no knife).
Floating tablet for dying the water yellow/orange to be trailed from a dinghy in the event of being shot down over the sea.
Floating torch from the Mae-West.
Compound and cloth from service respirator to clear and coat lenses of goggles and respirators.
December 2013. Great niece Stephanie Pender asked for details as she is determined to get the Medals. She is in the British Army.
Medals received Feb 2014
War Medal 1939-1945
1939-1945 Star with Bomber Command Clasp
France and Germany Star
2014 French awarded Legion d'Honneur to all surviving veterans who helped liberate France
1944/45. 2015 Nancy applied.
September 2016
Legion d'Honneur arrived
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
General Memories
Description
An account of the resource
Herbert's service life in an autobiography.
He describes training in London, Bridlington, Morpeth and Wymeswold. Later training as a crew was at Castle Donington, Lindholme and Hemswell. He describes in detail his crew, aircraft and operations. After the war he returned to his job in Cornwall and made contact with some of his old crew. His wife concludes his story, writing in 2005.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Herbert Davy
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2005
Format
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15 typewritten sheets
Language
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eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BDavyHDavyHv1
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--London
England--Alnwick
England--Sheffield
England--Mablethorpe
England--Liskeard
England--The Lizard
France--Bordeaux (Nouvelle-Aquitaine)
Netherlands--Walcheren
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Mannheim
Poland--Szczecin
Sweden--Malmö
England--Wragby (Lincolnshire)
England--Saltash
France--Caen
England--Lincoln
England--Newhaven
England--Leigh-on-Sea
England--Bristol
Canada
Ontario
Poland
Trinidad and Tobago--Trinidad
France
Germany
Netherlands
Sweden
Trinidad and Tobago
England--Essex
England--Gloucestershire
England--Lancashire
England--Lincolnshire
England--Northumberland
England--Yorkshire
France--Pauillac (Gironde)
England--Preston (Lancashire)
England--Bristol
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944
1945
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Sue Smith
12 Squadron
626 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
anti-aircraft fire
bomb aimer
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
crewing up
escaping
flight engineer
Halifax
Harris, Arthur Travers (1892-1984)
Heavy Conversion Unit
Initial Training Wing
lack of moral fibre
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
Martinet
Me 262
military ethos
navigator
Operational Training Unit
pilot
RAF Brackla
RAF Bridlington
RAF Castle Donington
RAF Hemswell
RAF Kirkham
RAF Lindholme
RAF Morpeth
RAF Tilstock
RAF Wickenby
RAF Woodbridge
RAF Wymeswold
searchlight
superstition
target indicator
training
V-1
V-weapon
Wellington
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2044/33094/PProbynEA17010014.1.jpg
c75b1e2d6c4773c3b32175883dedd307
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
Probyn, Ernest. Scrapbook
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-04-23
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Probyn, EA
Description
An account of the resource
42 items. Scrapbook containing photographs and clippings.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
Cuttings from daily papers of raids on which my crew were engaged.
[italics] Another great force of R.A.F. heavy bombers thundered out early last night heading eastwards in impressive strength towards the Continent. The sky for a long time was filled with the drone of air traffic. [/italics]
More than half a million incendiaries were among the great weight of bombs dropped by the R.A.F. on Wednesday night on Dessau, rail and water transport centre for the Eastern Front.
Crews reported great fires sweeping the target area.
Oil Targets Hit [inserted] 11.11.44 [/inserted]
Large fires were started also in Harburg, near Hamburg, where where [sic] smoke rose thousands of feet when oil targets were hit
The R.A.F. pressed home the attack in face of intense flak and fighter opposition. [inserted] 7 LOST [/inserted]
The night planes were followed by 1,350 U.S. heavies escorted by 300
near Duisburg [missing word/s].
Accounts of Sunday’s 12,000lb, bomb attack on Munich by 270 Lancasters say that it was carried out in “the most appalling weather imaginable.”
The Lancasters flew at 1,000ft all the way from their bases to the south-east of France, just clear of hills. All returned safely.
[inserted] 26-11-44 [/inserted]
[ticket]
London Transport Forces ticket, issued during War. Cost, 1/- all day.
Examples of leaflets dropped over occupied France etc., for German Troops
[underlined] Betr : Behandlung [/underlined]
[underlined] deutscher Kriegsgfangener [/underlined]
[underlined] Abschrift! [/underlined]
[underlined] Geheim [/underlined]
Panzer A.O.K.5.
[underlined] Abt. Ic. [/underlined]
Br.B.Nr.1481/43. g.
A.H.Q. [indecipherable letter}
19.4.1943
[inserted] [indecipherable word]. 24.4.43. [/inserted]
[inserted] [indecipherable letter/s].Nr. 338. [/inserted]
Betr. : Gefrangenonmisshandlung
An
[underlined] 334. Inf.Div. [/underlined]
Die Truppe ist daruber zu belehren, dass in ständig wachsenden
Ausmass Meldungen über Misshandlung und Ermordung deutscher Kriegsgefangener durch allifierte Truppen eintreffen. So unverstündlich, ja nahezu unglaubwurdig ein Vorgehen dieser Art deutschen soldatisches Denken eracheinen mag, so erklären sich diese dokumentarisch [deleted] e [/deleted] festgestellten Verbrechen doch aus dem Hass und der vertierten Roheit der von Judentum sufgehetzten Unterwelt der angelsscheischen Gross städte.
[missing words] Inf. Div.
Für das Panzerarmee-Oberkommando
Der Chef den Generalstabes
Dieses Dokument wurde in einem deutschen Stabsquartier erbeutet
[photograph]
Vielleicht haben auch diese daran geglaubt.
HEUTE sind sie Kriegsgefangene ─
[underlined] Betr : DEUTSCHLAND nach dem Kriege [/underlined]
Die verantwortlichen Staatsmänner der Vereinten
Nationen erklären :
1941 “Es liegt nicht in unserer Absicht, den wirtschaftlichen Zusammenbruch Deutschlands oder irgend eines anderen Landes zu verursachen. Ich sage das nicht aus irgend einer Verliebe für Deuchtsland, sondern weil ein hungerndes und bankrottes Deutschland in der Mitte Europa suns alle, die wir seine Nachbarn sind, vergiften würde. Das ist nicht Sentimentalität, sondern gesunder Menschenverstand.”
EDEN, 29.7.41.
1942 “Es wäre töricht, Die Hitler-Clique mit dem deutschen Volk und dem deutschen Staat zu identifizieren ; die Geschichte zeigt, dass Hitlers kommen und gehen, der deutsche Staat aber und das deutsche Volk bleiben.”
STALIN, 23.11.42.
1943 “Wir führen keinen Krieg gegen Völker als solche. Wir führen Krieg gegen Tyrannei.”CHURCHILL, 21.9.43.
“Die Vereinten Nationen haben nicht die Absicht, das deutsche Volk zu versklaven. Es ist unser Wunsch, dem deutschen Volk die Möglichkeit zu normaler, friedlicher Entwicklung als nützliche und geachtete Glieder der europäischen Völkerfamilie zu geben.”
ROOSEVELT, Weihnachten 1943.
Aber Goebbels lügt weiter─
─ er wird so weiter lügen bis zum letzten Augenblick !
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
Newspaper Cuttings, London Transport Ticket and Propaganda Leaflets
Description
An account of the resource
Seven items from a scrapbook. <br />Items 1 and 2 are newspaper cuttings about operations that Ernest was involved in. They are captioned 'Cuttings from daily papers of raids on which my crew were engaged'. <br />Item 3 is a London Transport ticket, captioned 'London Transport Forces ticket, issued during war. Cost 1/- all day'. <br />Items 4 to 7 are propaganda leaflets captioned 'Examples of leaflets dropped over occupied France etc. for German troops'.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Seven printed sheets on an album page
Language
A language of the resource
eng
deu
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
PProbynEA17010014
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
Wehrmacht
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Germany--Dessau (Dessau)
Germany--Harburg (Landkreis)
Germany--Duisburg
Great Britain
England--London
Germany--Munich
Germany
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-11-26
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Paul Ross
anti-aircraft fire
bombing
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
Goebbels, Joseph (1897-1945)
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
Lancaster
propaganda
Roosevelt, Franklin Delano (1882-1945)
Stalin, Joseph (1878-1953)
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1112/32450/BSaundersRSaundersRv1.1.pdf
1531231bab4c109b7befa8b35fe5a652
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
Saunders, Ron
Ronald Saunders
R Saunders
Description
An account of the resource
Two items. An oral history interview with Sergeant Ron Saunders (1923 - 2018, 1803753 Royal Air Force) and his obituary and memoir. He flew operations with 114 and 55 Squadron.
The collection was catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-06-16
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Saunders, R
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
Those We Loved Remain With Us
Those we loved remain with us,
for love itself lives on.
Cherished memories never fade,
because a loved one is gone.
Those we love can never be,
more than a thought apart.
For as long as there are memories,
they'll live on in our hearts.
Donations if desired made payable to RAF Association,
Stowmarket or East Suffolk Association for the Blind Stowmarket
may be sent care of Andrew Bingham Independent Funeral Service.
Ron's family appreciate your support today and
warmly invite you to join them following the service
at The Royal British Legion, Stowmarket.
[logo]
Funeral arrangements entrusted to:
ANDREW BINGHAM INDEPENDENT FUNERAL SERVICE
The Nutshell, Milton Road South, Stowmarket, Suffolk IP14 1EZ
Tel: 01449 771666
CCL No.1138712
[page break]
A Service of Celebration and Thanksgiving
RONALD SAUNDERS
'RON'
19th August 1923 - 28th July 2018
[photograph]
West Suffolk Crematorium
Monday 20th August 2018
at 3.30pm
[page break]
Ron Saunders - RAF Service No.1803753
At the age of 18 I volunteered for aircrew duties with The Royal Air Force and was accepted for training as a wireless operator/air gunner. After a few months delay I was finally called upon 29 September1942.
[underlined] ITW Blackpool [/underlined]
This is where my initial training began having first been billeted in a typical seaside boarding house of the day. Apart from drill, marches. P.T. and the odd lecture, most of my time was spent wearing headphones translating Morse both in code and plain language. I passed the required speed tests enabling me to continue training as WOP/AG.
[underlined] No. 2 Radio School RAF Yatesbury (Wiltshire) [/underlined]
I arrived here on 29 January 1943 to complete my training as a wireless operator. This was successfully achieved, the proof of which was the attachment of the official RAF "Sparks" badge on my uniform. Pending the next move, I, along with the rest of the course, were scattered around various RAF sites.
[underlined] 20.P.A.T.U Weston-on-the-Green (Oxfordshire) [/underlined]
The pilots here were flying simulated night landings with the aid of darkened glasses and a runway lit by sodium flares. I had my first ever flight here, made even more memorable when, after warning me, the pilot deliberately stalled the Oxford aircraft in which we were flying. A short lived posting and soon I was back in the main stream to continue training.
[underlined] No.4 Radio School RAF Madley (Herefordshire) [/underlined]
This was the flying part of the course to confirm the ability to communicate with a ground station from the air. I flew with five others plus an instructor, taking turns at the radio sets. The aircraft was a DH Dominie. Next was carrying out the same exercise, only this time it was just me and the pilot. The aircraft was a Proctor. Then to our collective surprise we were ail given seven days embarkation leave.
[underlined] The Boat [/underlined]
I left England on 13 November 1943, sailing on the P&O liner, now a troopship. My "accommodation" was situated on the lowest deck of the ship, namely "H" deck. This was simply a mattress and a small space alongside for kitbag and clothing.
We were soon on the move joining up with a convoy of 12 other ships plus escort. Sea legs were required across the Bay of Biscay and beyond but eventually we passed Gibraltar and entered the calmer waters of the Mediterranean. So far the trip had been uneventful, but this soon changed when two sustained air attacks took place on the convoy. Being down below deck in “H" deck I could only imagine what was happening above. I listened intently
[page break]
to the barrage of gunfire and bomb explosions, with the latter producing shock wave thuds against the hull. Many years later I obtained a copy of the voyage report in which part of the captain's statement contained the following "The convoy was attacked twice off the North African coast, the first by 30 enemy planes using glider bombs and torpedoes; the second by 12 dive bombers. The Orion seemed to be the target far the second attack and we had four very near misses, one within 10 feet of the ship which splashed the port side and covered the deck with oil. The ship was severely shaken and the pumps in the engine room stopped for a few moments."
There were no further alarms and after 14 days at sea since leaving England, the "Orion" slowly entered the Suez Canal, passing the statue of Ferdinandde Lessops to dock a short way in at Port Said. Up early the next day, kit packed we left the ship to walk the 1/2 mile to a railway siding. NAAFI tea and cakes were available before boarding a train taking us to Cairo.
[underlined] 22 PTC ALMAZA (CAIRO) [/underlined]
The train journey from Port Said was long and tiring mainly due to the hard wooden seats! It was dark when we arrived at Cairo where we were bundled into waiting lorries which delivered us to the transit camp. It was tented accommodation - six to a tent with just a palliasse for steeping. We were here for six weeks waiting for No.1 Course to move out from the newly opened gunnery school. Before leaving I was able to pay a visit to the Pyramids.
[underlined] 13 AGS BALLAH (EGYPT) [/underlined]
Again it was tented accommodation recently vacated by No.1 Course in which we settled down for another six weeks training. This comprised mostly of lectures, a bit of ground firing as well as airborne exercises with an accompanying aircraft towing a drogue as our target against which we demonstrated our gunnery skills. With more than one trainee aboard, different coloured tipped bullets were allocated for individual markings when the drogue was inspected later. Having obtained the required proficiency at the end of the course I was entitled to display the Air Gunners badge on my uniform, together with a set of Sergeant's stripes which were automatically given at the end of training for aircrew duties.
[underlined] No-5 M.E. ARC HELIPOLIS (CAIRO) [/underlined]
To await further postings we were transferred back to a suburb of Cairo. This time the accommodation was in the pre-war Palace Hotel. Although all the furniture had been removed it was a pleasant change from tents. Eventually my name appears on the Notice for Post to an Operational Training Unit (OUT) [sic] .
[underlined] 20 O.T.U. SHANDUR - SUEZ CANAL ZONE [/underlined]
We travelled by trains from Cairo to Port Tewfik and then by lorry to the airfield. South Africans were also there undergoing trainings on Marauders. Before crewing up it was a case of more travelling in our own category. For me this involved flying in Baltimores for
[page break]
radio tests and in Ansons for gunnery. All went well and then the forming of crews began. This was quite a casual affair. I was walking in a mixed group when a pilot invited me to join his crew which I accepted, meeting up with his navigator and mid-upper gunner later. We flew together on nineteen occasions before completing the course. We then departed for a week's leave in Alexandria before reporting back to 22 PTC - Cairo.
[underlined] 56 PTC – NAPLES [/underlined]
After a pleasant week's leave at Beaufighter House in Alexandria we returned to Cairo and 22PTC. Again it was back to tents but our stay was short-lived. After just a few days a morning parade found us on a posting to Naples.
Early one morning we left for Payne Airfield nearby where we were put into a waiting Dakota. On the way we stopped at Benina and Tunis before alighting at Capdechina Airfield at Naples. Things were now very different. There was a general shortage, the children were ragged and starving. This resulted in a queue including some old folk outside our billet (Villa Druise) waiting for scraps every meal time. Thefts were not uncommon and one of our pilots had a full kitbag stolen whilst asleep. The Americans usually had armed guards on the back of food vehicles.
A woman from the crowd which gathered at the gates in the mornings, offered to do my laundry-and it always came back!
It was not long after when a Squadron C/O came to interview the pilots, the result of which we were posted to 114 Squadron flying with Boston Aircraft - a medium bomber (American) operating at night. Not long after we packed our kit and set off to join the Squadron at Tarquinia situated on the west of Italy on the American 5th Army Front.
[underlined] TARQUINIA- CECINA [/underlined]
We found the Squadron under canvas and our first task was to erect a tent for ourselves in a field of thistles. An interview with the CO followed, which explained the Squadron's activities. I was roughly awakened one morning and sent off with the advance party to an airfield -- this was at Cecina and much nearer the front line and the realities of war. With a 15 cwt lorry and ten days rations we slept under some trees which were mostly taped off as dangerous.
[underlined] CECINA [/underlined]
114 Squadron was a part of 232 wing which also contained Nos 13-18 and 55 Squadrons, all engaged in similar duties. We converted to Bostons which took nearly a month due to heavy rain. After a particular heavy storm all four Squadrons and crews were called upon to remove stones thrown up onto the runway. We carried out our first sortie from here, bombing the marshalling yard at Modena, followed by a short recce. With the main thrust of the Italian Campaign taking place on the Eastern side of the country where the 8th Army
[page break]
were engaged in heavy fighting against Field Marshall Kesselring forces who set up various strategic defence lines as they retreated northwards. So once again it was another move! The crews split up with the pilots flying the aircraft to Perugia. I was in the road party - a convoy of several vehicles - sleeping the first night in a derelict post office. The second was in Assisi. We reached Chiaravelle where we were to stay pending completion of an airfield at Falconara. Before we left Cecina we were visited firstly by Sir Winston Churchill followed soon after by HM King George VI. Both were met by the American General Mark Clark commander of the American Army.
[underlined] CECINA - CHIARAVELLE – FALCONARA [/underlined]
Chiaravelle was a fairly small town and the building we occupied just managed to house all of us - having a basement and a small yard for the cookhouse. After a few weeks with Christmas 1944 approaching we moved five miles to an empty building in Falconara close to the airfield from which we were to resume our normal flying duties. We did our best to make ourselves comfortable and keep out the cold. The first thing was a fire put in by a fitter from the M.T. section; this was OK if the wind was in the right direction otherwise we were smoked out! One item we were lacking was a wireless, so myself and a pilot from the squadron hitch - hiked around the area initially without any luck, until we came across an Army camp which was on the move, who had a home-made wooden box type set and who reluctantly parted with it.
Our crew took some leave from here going back to Rome. While we were away the Squadron lost a third of its crew including two C/Os. With the arrival of March we heard we were to move nearer to the front line. The next airfield which we were to occupy was at Forli.
While at Falconara our 20th sortie was a bit different! Our crew were briefed to recce the airfield at Vicenza. The difference being was taking off in daylight when previously we operated only at night. It was a strange feeling to be visible. Dusk soon fell and nothing was seen at ail but as we were receiving interest from the ground, we bombed the runway and headed home.
[underlined] FORLI [/underlined]
Along with the rest of 232 Wing we arrived at Forli Airfield and were allocated a billet in an empty house on the main street. We set up our beds then helped to erect tents for the Mess in the back yard.
We were very busy here in support of the 8th Army who had started a new offensive. Many of our sorties were under radar control! One particular area where the army was held up was at Argenta. At 3 a.m. on the 19th April, 45 crews took off at 2 minute intervals to assist with the breakthrough. For our crew it was our 50th sortie. The area was a mass of smoke but the artillery fired red markers for guidance in bombing. The army now moved further
[page break]
north as did our flying. After a further 12 sorties attacking ferry points, bridges, the River Po area and movement generally, we were stood down.
VE day came and everyone joined in the celebrations, but it was quite low key. As a crew we were pleased to still be around and very thankful to the ground crews who had looked after our various aircraft and with whom we had often had a chat and a cigarette before the take-off. One event was when a party of airmen wheeled a large floodlight down the street to a PoW camp nearby. Parking outside the main gate they treated the Germans to a few patriotic songs.
After a few weeks watching the German prisoners come through, the news came that we were moving further North to an airfield at Aviano. Soon afterwards we flew up in formation with the C/O. And so ended my nights of peering into the darkness, throwing out flares by hand plus propaganda leaflets in German - and surrender invitations in Italian.
[underlined] Aviano [/underlined]
For us, Aviano meant a large airfield situated on the Lombardy Plains, well away from the main road at the foot of the Lower Alps. Our first job was to find a decent tent and settle in. Our first flight was flying in formation for a fly past over Cannes in Southern France, otherwise it was the odd cross-country exercise. About this time Marshall Tito was making claims over Trieste which resulted in aircraft shuttling to and fro to Forli to bring bomb stocks up to the required level should they be needed.
We often visited the nearby village from where local girls were taking care of our laundry and where local partisans were showing themselves distinguished by coloured neckerchiefs; they were still patrolling the mountains. I was once invited to join them but I declined.
One evening, the camp was alarmed by explosions and huge columns of smoke from a nearby bomb dump. German incendiary bombs which had been set off by an Italian civilian who was severely injured. An adjacent dump of anti-personnel bombs were swiftly removed by many hands. That same night a severe storm hit the camp leaving tents in a bit of a shambles to say the least - I woke up looking at the heavens and rain on my face!
A few weeks after this the C/O called us all together to say the squadron was going to Aden, while the other three squadrons were going to Greece.
I was on leave when the main party left to go by sea, but on my return I was put in charge of a small party and we flew from Udine to Bari in two Marauders. From Bari we travelled to Lecce where we met up with others still awaiting a boat.
[underlined] Italy - Aden (via Egypt) [/underlined]
The liner "Winchester Castle" arrived at Taranto taking us not direct to Aden as we thought but via Egypt, disembarking at Port Said then back to 22PTC - a repeat of the journey two
[page break]
years earlier! Soon it was back to board another ship sailing down the Red Sea to Aden where we joined up with the rest of the Squadron at Khormaksar Airfield.
134 Squadron were posted here to relieve 621 Squadron who slowly departed. Unfortunately a Wellington bomber belonging to them, with 8 people on board, took off, circled the airfield, established radio contact then set off for Egypt. Nothing more was ever heard from them. Our crew resumed flying carrying out ten more flights around the area including one to Hargeisa (Somalia) before hearing the news that the Squadron was to be disbanded and Mosquitos would be replacing our Leaselend Bostons. Before we all split up a grand farewell was held in the Mess. All aircrew remaining here were allocated ground duties. In my case it was flying control. This included spells in the control towers of Khormaksar and Sheik Othman, a satellite airfield four miles further inland and two weeks on Masirah Island. I travelled in a Dakota stopping at Salalh [sic] on the way. My only company was a goat! Finally ending up at the main air traffic control centre for the area at HQ. I now awaited clearance to return to England for demobilisation.
[underlined] Aden to England [/underlined]
When the SS Alcantara arrived to accommodate those of us returning home, we were informed at 1700 his to be on board by 1900 hrs - naturally we accomplished this l The boat made a short stop at Naples. On the afternoon of the 17 October 1946 we docked at Southampton - two berths away from the Queen Mary.
After approximately three years continuous service overseas it was with mixed emotions I watched a red double decker bus passing along a nearby road. After I was demobbed at 101 PDC Kirkham Lancs, I set off for Hastings, having warned my mother in advance!!!
Dublin Core
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Title
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Ronald Saunders memoir
Description
An account of the resource
Document contains order of service for funeral and memoir of service in the RAF. Includes training as wireless operator/air gunner, troop ship to Cairo and continued training in Egypt. Posted for operation on Boston aircraft with 114 Squadron in Italy. Continues with details of operations in Italy. His squadron was then moved to Aden where he operated in the area of Aden and Somalia before returning to England by ship.
Creator
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R Saunders
Date
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2018-08-20
Format
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Two page order of service and six page printed document
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
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BSaundersRSaundersRv1
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Lancashire
England--Blackpool
England--Wiltshire
England--Oxfordshire
England--Herefordshire
Egypt
Egypt--Cairo
Egypt--Shanhūr
Italy
Italy--Naples
Italy--Cesena
Italy--Chiaravalle
Italy--Falconara Albanese
Italy--Forlì
Italy--Aviano
South Yemen
Yemen (Republic)--Aden
Somalia
Yemen (Republic)
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942-09-29
1943-01-29
1943-11-13
1946-10-17
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Peter Bradbury
114 Squadron
aircrew
Anson
B-26
Boston
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
crewing up
Dominie
George VI, King of Great Britain (1895-1952)
military living conditions
military service conditions
Morse-keyed wireless telegraphy
Oxford
Proctor
RAF Madley
RAF Weston-on-the-Green
RAF Yatesbury
training
wireless operator / air gunner
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1416/32277/MLeavissED1818433-151116-240001.2.jpg
c0d9a0f5b2d215caabcc8534d0eb4858
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1416/32277/MLeavissED1818433-151116-240002.2.jpg
466bb8f14089b0fa52380f44589686da
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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Leaviss, Ted
Edward Derek Leaviss
E D Leaviss
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-11-16
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. 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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Leaviss, ED
Description
An account of the resource
42 items. The collection concerns Warrant Officer Edward 'Ted' Derek Leaviss (1818433 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, documents memorabilia and photographs.
He flew three Operation Manna operations as an air gunner with 460 Squadron.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Irene Leaviss and catalogued by Trevor Hardcastle.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[underlined] OPERATION MANNA
29th April – 8th May 1945 [/underlined]
The advance of the 1st. Polish Armoured Division liberated the eastern parts of the Netherlands, resulting in a very large area in the west still in the hands of the German army. Earlier the Reichskommissar, an Austrian, Arthur Seyss-Inquart imposed an embargo on food supplies for western urban areas. Food stocks in the thickly populated west had already been reduced by German order, leaving insufficient food to help the people through the winter of 44/45. A shortage of coal and other fuels aggrevated [sic] the situation.
In mid January 1945 Queen Wilhelmina sent identical notes to King George VI, President Roosevelt and winston [sic] Churchill, saying in effect ‘That if a major catastrophe was to be avoided drastic action had to be taken before, and not after the liberation of the rest of the country’. An Allied invasion of western occupied Holland was considered to [sic] costly so representatives of the Dutch resistance were allowed to cross the lines and contact the Allies. Following negotiations the Germans would be willing to negotiate, and on April 14th Prince Bernhard travelled to Reims to discuss the Allied answer with General Eisenhower. Churchill was opposed to negotiations with the Germans. South African Prime Minister Field Marshall Smuts mediation allowed direct negotiations with the Germans. Ten days later the Governments of the USA, USSR and the UK allowed Eisenhower to contact Seyss-Inquart the German Governor of Occupied Holland. The same day April 24th the Dutch people were advised by radio that food drops were about to begin. The Germans were forced to co-operate, that to assure themselves of POW status was to obey completely, any acts of sabotage would be considered a war crime and treated as war criminals. The Germans were not impressed, and angry as all arrangements had been made without prior consultation and were suspicious of Anglo-US action, but broadcast to the Dutch people on the 25th April that the German military commander agreed to General Eisenhower’s plan to supply food to occupied Holland, but not by the means suggested. Eisenhower ordered the food drops to start on the 27th April whatever the German reaction. On the day previous the German Governor seyss-Inquart [sic] agreed the fastest way to save the Dutch was to send food supplies by air.
The weather on the 27th April prevented the Lancaster bombers from taking Off. [sic] on the 28th April in the school building in Achteveld German and Allied representatives, including Air-Commodore Andrew Geddes the Air Commodore Operations & Plans of the 2nd Tactical Air Force met to establish as mant [sic] ‘drop zones’ as [possible and Overcome [sic] any German objections. General Sir Francis De Guingand Montgomery’s Chief of Staff headed the meeting and advised the Germans the object of the meeting was to come to an agreement as to how the Allies could best help the Dutch as they the Germans were unable to do so. Reichrichter Dr. Ernst Schwebel headed the four man German delegation and said his terms of reference did not include making any detailed arrangements for feeding the Dutch, but to make arrangements for the Reichskommisar Seyss-Inquart could meet General Eisenhower or his representative at an agreed place on Monday 30th April. General De Guingand went through his proposals to the German delegates, Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands a ‘Linch [sic] Pin’ in the complex organisation of the distribution of food to points inside occupied territory advised General De Guingand who then concluded that the next meeting would be held at 13.00 hrs on April 30th 1945 and that Lt. Gen Bedell Smith would lead the delegation.
[page break]
2
The next day at 08.00 hrs 29th April hundreds of Dutch people in hiding listened to the ‘Voice of Freedom’ Radio Resurgent Netherlands with a special announcement that aircraft would come to drop coloureed [sic] flares the other aeroplanes would drop the food, at 12.10 hrs another special announcement reported the first aircraft carrying food for occupied Holland had left Britain. OPERATION MANNA had begun.
That day 29th April the RAF took an enormous risk, no agreement had been signed, as the Lancaster bombers approached occupied Holland at very low height 150-1000 feet they would have been easy prey for the many Ack-Ack guns the enemy could still use. If the Germans opened fire and killed hundreds of RAF crews they would have been in their right to do so. The RAF Commanders, the pilots and their crews new [sic] it, the German reaction would be legitimate. However, the start of this life-saving operation was a success and 239 Lancasters dropped 556 tons of food.
The following day 30th April at the school in Achterveld General Bedell Smith met Seyss-Inquart, Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands and Air Commodore Geddes participated in the negotiations and following discussions of sub-committees in various class-rooms the two delegations finalley [sic[ reached an agreement. At the same time 482 Lancasters dropped 1005 tons of food again with the knowledge that the agreement had not been signed. The next day 1st May Air Commodore Geddes and Group Captain Hill with copies of the agreement in English and German met German dlegates [sic] in the village of Nude. Following the signing of four copies in each language and two marked maps showing the drop zones each side returned to their own lines at 19.00. Air Commadore Geddes advised that the agreement had been satisfactily [sic] signed. Thus the operation which had already started on the 29th April could officially begin on May 2nd. However on that day the 1st of may [sic] the RAF dropped 1096 tons with 488 Lancasters, The 8th Bomber Group of the USAAF with B17’s using the code name Chowhound dropped 776 tons with 392 aircraft. The operation continued by the RAF until the 8th May and the 8th Air Force on the 7th May. The number of Flights made by the RAF was 3154 dropping 7030 tons, the 8th Air Force made 2189 flights dropping 4156 short tons.
Operation Manna was carried out by RAF Bomber Commands No 1 No 3 No 8 Groups using Lancaster’s Mosquito’s. This highly successful operation perpetuated by Bomber Command gave life and hope to millions of starving Dutch people held in the German Occupied area of west Holland.
[underlined] VOEDSEL UIT DE HEMEL [/underlined]
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
Operation Manna
Description
An account of the resource
An account of how the need for Operation Manna arose, how negotiations with the German accupying forces proceeded, how the operation was announced to the Dutch people and a summary of the Operation.
Format
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Two typewritten pages
Language
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eng
nld
Type
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Text
Identifier
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MLeavissED1818433-151116-240001, MLeavissED1818433-151116-240002
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. Bomber Command
Civilian
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
Netherlands
Contributor
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Tricia Marshall
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
1 Group
3 Group
8 Group
B-17
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
George VI, King of Great Britain (1895-1952)
Lancaster
Operation Manna (29 Apr – 8 May 1945)
Roosevelt, Franklin Delano (1882-1945)
Second Tactical Air Force
-
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
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-05-28
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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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
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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
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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.
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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.
[page break]
Page 45
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]
[page break]
Page 46
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]
[page break]
Page 47
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.
[page break]
Page 48
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
[page break]
[coloured portrait photograph]
[underlined]Geoff Payne[/underlined]
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
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.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Geoff Payne
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2010
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
56 page memoir
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
BPayneGPayneGv1
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. Training Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
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)
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
David Bloomfield
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.
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/1801/32064/MStewartEC87436-170727-02.1.pdf
ba150c34c0e26764b6fb67ddd8726a08
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
Stewart, Edward Colston
E C Stewart
Description
An account of the resource
272 items. The collection concerns Edward Colston Stewart DFC (b. 1916, 87436 Royal Air Force) and his wife, <span>Flight Officer </span>Ann Marie Stewart (nee Imming, b. 1922, 5215 Royal Air Force). It contains his log books, documents, bank notes and photographs. He flew 50 operations as a pilot with 1446 Ferry Flight and 104 Squadron. After the war they served in the Far East. <br /><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2013">Ann Marie Stewart collection</a><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2012">Bank notes</a><br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Paula Cooper 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
2017-02-24
2022-06-21
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
Stewart, EC
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[front cover]
[page break]
1/9.
F/LT L.C. PIPKIN
BOMBER COMMAND
[underlined] LONDON [/underlined]
[table]
[crest]
[page break]
NOT P/WAR LECTURE – NO NEED TO GO TO A CAMP.
A TALK ON MY EXPERIENCES WHICH MIGHT HELP YOU.
[inserted] IF YOU KEEP FIT [/inserted]
FEEL SURE YOU CAN ALL EVADE THESE COWARDLY STUPID PEOPLE.
LECTURES.
IMPRESSED UPON ME:- GETTING FAR AWAY FROM CHUTE OR AIRCRAFT ON FIRST NIGHT.
BEST IS SAFE HIDING PLACE FROM SEARCH LASTS 0600 – MIDDAY OVER VAST AREA.
[underlined] STARTING FROM BEGINNING. [/underlined]
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] FIRST NIGHT [/underlined]
FIGHTER ATTACK
LOSING BOOT AND SEARCH LIGHT
SEARCH POCKETS AND £5
ALL CLEAR
MEETING SENTRY – RETRACE STEPS –
CROSSING FIELD – FARMER SHOUTING.
RHUR WIRE DEFENCES – CUTS – TREATMENT.
CLOTHS [sic] WET DUE TO DEW
CYCLISTS ON ROAD 0530 GREETINGS
[underlined] FIRST DAY [/underlined]
MAKING FOR WOOD AND SEEING TROOPERS
TO COPPICE
SENTRIES AT 0600
COMMANDER SHOUTING ORDERS
TROOPS OVER HEAD
THE SEARCH
15 HOURS UNCOMFORTABLE WAIT
DURING DAY SINGING GERMANS
UNABLE TO RECCO [sic] DUE TO SENTRIES
KNEW VILLAGE NEAR BY CHILDREN.
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] SECOND NIGHT [/underlined]
FIRST ATTEMPT TO MOVE (TROOPERS)
GET AWAY
BUILT UP ROAD AND DITCHES
FIGHT WITH TROOPERS
GET AWAY
DRY MOUTH AND EXHAUSTION (ENDURANCE TABLETS)
CAMP UP OTHER SIDE OF ROAD AND CAMP
[underlined] THIRST [/underlined]
HORLICKS – CABBAGE – DEW
LIGHTS AND FARMERS GUARDING FIELDS
UNIFORMED CYCYLISTS [sic] ON ROAD AT 0400
[underlined] SECOND DAY [/underlined]
BLISTERS ON FEET VERY PAINFUL
SLEPT IN DITCH UNDER TREE BY RAILWAY AND WOOD
THIRST AND MILKING COW ATTEMPT
RECCO SAW SENTRIES ON RAILWAY LINE
INSECT PEST
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] THIRD NIGHT [/underlined]
WALKING DIFFICULT USED HANDKERCHIEF.
CABBAGE FIELDS AND THIRST
GETTING TIRED USED ENDURANCE TABLETS
MAIN ROAD RELIEF TO FEET AND SEEING TWO UNIFORM MEN ACCROSS [sic] FIELDS TO HAYSTACKS
ATTEMPT TO GET WATER DOG
WATER IN CABBAGE FIELD
RUBBER BAG AND CHLORINE TABLETS
[underlined] DAY [/underlined]
SLEPT IN UNDERGROWTH
GERMAN TROOPS SINGING
PEOPLE WORKING IN FIELDS
NOTHING EXCITING.
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] 4th NIGHT [/underlined]
UNDER THE WEATHER
DIFFICULT TO WALK
PASSED TROOPER AND GIRL IN LANE
RESTED AT BASE OF HAYSTACK (ENDURANCE TABLETS)
MUST GET TO BELGE OR WATER AND FOOD
MEASURED DISTANCE ON MAP IC FOR POSITION
[underlined] 4th MORNING [/underlined]
IN HOLE BY BUSHES IN SAND OUTSIDE FARM.
OLD FARMER STARTLED
WONDERFUL FAMILY
(POOR) FOOD THEY OFFERED BUT THEIR BEST (BREAD UGH!!)
BANDAGE AND WASHED FEET
PROPAGANDA [deleted word] LEAFLETS
WIRELESS UPSTAIRS
COUNTING CATTLE – EGGS ETC.
ADMIRED MY FLYING CLOTHS [sic]
[underlined] FIFTH NIGHT [/underlined]
[underlined] ENGLISH SPEAKING MAN AND SUGGESTION OF ROUTE TO FOLLOW [/underlined]
SLEEP IN BED
[page break]
[blank page]
5th MORNING
LOUNGE COAT OVER UNIFORM UNDER SHIRT
CROSSING MAAS AND CYCLES TO HOLLAND
MEETING DUTCH FAMILY
MORE PROPAGANDA PAPERS
DIEPPE RAID
GERMAN SOLDIERS STAND AT DOOR
[underlined] 6th NIGHT [/underlined]
WALK TO ANOTHER FARM NEAR BELGE FRONTIER
INTERVIEW WITH [deleted word] GOVERNOR AND TALKS OF VENLOW – COMMANDOES – OSNABROOK – ROTTERDAM – DUSSELDOLF
I LOVE HITLER TALE
[underlined] 6th DAY [/underlined]
SLEEP WITH GERMANS EATING
BELOW
MEETING FRENCH PRISONERS
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] 7th NIGHT [/underlined]
WALK TO COLLECT BYCYCLES [sic]
MEETING SENTRY ON ROAD
CROSSING FRONTIER ON BYCYCLES
[underlined] IN BELGIUM [/underlined]
CYCLING WITH GERMAN TROOPS ON BYCYLES
LEAVING CYCLES AND WALKING TO AN ORGANISATION
TORCH SHONE ON US BY TROOPERS
[underlined] SEVENTH MORNING [/underlined]
TRAVEL WITH WORKERS TO LIEGE
[underlined] LATER [/underlined]
TRAIN TO BRUSSELLS
WORKING IN ORCHARD AND GARDENS
SEEING THE TOWN
JOURNEY TO LILLE AND PARIS
CUSTOMS BARRIER
TROOPS PUSHED IN TRAIN AT LILLE
FOOD AND BEER AT LILLE
(OVER)
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] PARIS [/underlined]
PROPAGANDA POSTERS
METRO – PICTURES – SHOW – VISITING FRIENDS
CHURCHILL – ENGLAND DAGULLE [sic]
COLONIES AND PROPAGANDA BY GERMANS
WIRELESS MUSICAL BOX
[underlined] CROSSING TO SPAIN [/underlined]
GUARDS RIVER ON FRONTIER
SHEEP WITH BELLS
KEEP FIT FOR THE JOURNEY
LIGHTS AS GUIDE TO TOWNS
CIVIC[deleted letter] GUARDS – GRAY UNIFORM – GESTAPO
DANGER OF RAIL TRAVEL
COSTOME [sic] OF PEOPLE – COAT SHOULDER – ADIOUS
BANANAS AGAIN
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] SUMING [sic] UP [/underlined]
RAILWAYS: CAREFUL OF SENTRIES
ROADS:- CURFEW AND GUARDS
FIELDS:- FIELD GUARDS - GERMAN BAD
[underlined] OCCUPIED GOOD [/underlined] – MAYBE!!
POLICE IN TOWNS:- OLD GOOD – YOUNG DOUBTFUL
INSTANCE IN PARIS
ON TRAINS:- CONTROLLER GUARDS USUALLY GOOD IF NOBODY NEAR
HELP IN TOWNS:- PROSTITUTES – ELDERLY WOMEN – JEWS
IDENTY [sic] CARDS: DIFFERENT IN BELGE AND FRANCE
[inserted] GUNNER:- [/Inserted]
CONVERSATION WITH BELGE PILOT:- STOMAR B.B.B F.F.F
HEIL HITLER NOT USED
HORLICKS – CHLORINE – ENDURANCE TABLETS
MAPS AND COMPASS NEED FOR ALL CREW TO USE COMPASS
NEED FOR: MEDICAL EQUIPMENT IN PARACHUTE FOR SORE FEET – SCRATCHES – INSECTS.
[underlined] SOAP [/underlined]
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
Flight Lieutenant LC Pipkin's Diary
Description
An account of the resource
A diary kept by LC Pipkin and subtitled Bomber Command, London. It records his time after baling out of aircraft after a fighter attack. He managed to evade capture and reached Spain.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
LC Pipkin
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
MStewartEC87436-170727-02
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Netherlands
France--Dieppe
Belgium
Netherlands--Venlo
Germany--Osnabrück
Netherlands--Rotterdam
Belgium--Liège
France--Lille
France--Paris
Spain
Germany--Düsseldorf
France
Germany
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
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
Sue Smith
bale out
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
evading
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
propaganda
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1996/31982/SHoganPJ436464v20005-0001.1.jpg
040a3f098540510a10f4c4e85aa7850a
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1996/31982/SHoganPJ436464v20005-0002.1.jpg
1bb8d3f0cf5bec7939c733fb21cc86fa
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
Hogan, P J
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
2017-12-05
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Hogan, PJ
Description
An account of the resource
Ninety-six items and a sub-collection with twenty two items..
The collection concerns Flight Sergeant Pat Hogan (436464 Royal Australian Air Force) and contains letters home to his family, his flying log book, accounts of his aircraft being shot down and him baling out, official documents, certificates and photographs.
He flew operations as a navigator with 466 Squadron.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Elizabeth Anne Lusby and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Australian Forces 1944 Christmas Card
Description
An account of the resource
Front page titled from all Australian forces and a b/w photograph of a row of thatched cottages captioned 'Cropthorne, Worcestershire, England'. Rear page text Ralph Waldo Emerson's tribute to England. Inside left page a b/w head and shoulders portrait of Winston Churchill. Inside right page seasons greetings for Christmas 1944 and new year.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Vandyk Printers Ltd, Bristol and Photochrom Company Ltd, Tunbridge Wells
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1944-12
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Four sides printed card with b/w photographs
Language
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eng
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Text
Photograph
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SHoganPJ436464v20005
Coverage
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Royal Australian Air Force
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Worcestershire
England--Cropthorne (Hereford and Worcester)
England--Bristol
England--Tunbridge Wells
England--Gloucestershire
England--Kent
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1944-12-25
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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.
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/939/31095/MMackieGA855966-180130-010001.2.jpg
fae7c925c2e5bbcf90d4dd031cb6c6ea
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/939/31095/MMackieGA855966-180130-010002.2.jpg
1f613edc86856ecbcf5d1b99fc407d7a
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Title
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Mackie, George
George Alexander Mackie
G A Mackie
Description
An account of the resource
Nine items. An oral history interview with George Mackie (1920 - 2020, 855966 Royal Air Force) with his log books, diary extract, list of operations, battle order and photographs. He flew operations as a pilot with 15 and 214 Squadrons.
The collection was catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-12-22
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
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Mackie, GA
Transcribed document
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[French language propaganda leaflet about the start of great night bombing offensive against Germany.]
Plus de 1000 bombardiers a la fois sur l'Allemagne
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Title
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Plus de 1000 bombardiers a la fois sur l'Allemagne
Description
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Churchill informs the House of Commons on 2nd June 1942 of two air campaigns of more than 1000 bombers; a new phase which will intensify with the imminent arrival of the American Air Force.
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Two sided printed leaflet
Language
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fra
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Text
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MMackieGA855966-180130-01
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Civilian
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
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David Bloomfield
Sally Coulter
Spatial Coverage
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Germany
Date
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1942-06-02
Temporal Coverage
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1942
bombing
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
propaganda
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1768/31036/BCleggPVGibsonAv10030.2.jpg
6eb7d0c54e0be968ad7fbf0307505d49
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Title
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Clegg, Peter Vernon. Gibson, Alan - folder
Description
An account of the resource
Eight items. Contains operational record of Squadron Leader Alan Gibson AFC DFM RNZAF including extracts from his logbook, letter from his rear gunner, reports on operation to Mailly le Camp and document with quotations.
Date
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2015-07-02
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. 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.
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Clegg, PV
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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REF:
GERMANY AFTER THE WAR
THE RESPONSIBLE STATESMAN OF THE ALLIED NATIONS DECLARE: -
1941
It is not our intention to bring about the economic ruin of Germany or any other country. I say this
not out of any fondness for Germany, but because a starving and bankrupt Germany in the middle
of Europe would poison us who are its neighbours. That is not sentimentality, but sound common sense.
EDEN 29.7.41
1942
It would be foolish to identify the Hitler 'clique' with the German people or with the German state.
History shows that 'Hitlers' come and go, the German state and the German people remain.
STALIN 23.11.42
1943
We make no war against nations as such. We make war against tyranny.
CHURCHILL 21.9.43
The Allied Nations do not intend to enslave the German people. It is our
wish to give the German people the opportunity for normal and peaceful
development as a useful and respected member of the European family of
nations.
ROOSEVELT CHRISTMAS 1943
HOWEVER GOEBBELS CONTINUES TO LIE:-
1) England wants to deliver Europe to Stalin's knife.
2) Slaughter Df the Germans - new brutal English plan of shame.
3) Germany to become a slave state.
4) Devil's plan against our children.
5) A brutal Churchill plan.
6) They want spiritual and physical destruction of the German people.
AND HE WILL CONTINUE TO LIE LIKE THIS UNTIL THE LAST MINUTE.
REF: TREATMENT OF GERMAN PRISONERS OF WAR
NOTICE SECRET
Panzer AOK5
Abt.Ic.
Ref: Mistreatment of prisoners
Troops are advised that information is being received in ever increasing
volume concerning the mistreatment and murder of German POW's by Allied
Forces. However incomprehensible and even unbelievable occurrences of
this nature may seem to German military thinking, these documentarily
proven crimes can be explained however by the hate and the callous
brutality of the Jewish incited underworld in angle-Saxon cities.
THIS DOCUMENT WAS POSTED IN GERMAN STAFF QUARTERS.
PERHAPS THESE ALSO BELIEVED IT. TODAY THEY ARE PRISONERS OF WAR.
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Quotes from responsible statesmen
Description
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Quotes from Eden, Stalin, Churchill, Roosevelt, Goebbels and notice on treatment of German prisoners of war by German staff HQ.
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One page typewritten document
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
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BCleggPVGibsonAv10030
Coverage
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Civilian
Wehrmacht
Contributor
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David Bloomfield
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
anti-Semitism
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
Goebbels, Joseph (1897-1945)
prisoner of war
propaganda
Roosevelt, Franklin Delano (1882-1945)
Stalin, Joseph (1878-1953)
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1524/30447/MBaxterPD52604-160712-080001.2.jpg
54482cfce43db2e4b0874e669c759114
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1524/30447/MBaxterPD52604-160712-080002.2.jpg
e962ca3a65e3d2a71664f288568edd35
Dublin Core
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Title
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Baxter, Peter Dennis
P D Baxter
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2016-07-12
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Baxter, PD
Description
An account of the resource
63 items. The collection concerns Flight Lieutenant Peter Baxter (b. 1922, 52604 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, photographs and documents. He was trained as an airframe apprentice at RAF Halton and served as ground crew before volunteering to become air crew. He flew operations as a flight engineer with 12 and 153 Squadrons.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Michael Baxter and catalogued by Trevor Hardcastle.
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Title
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Warship Week programme
Description
An account of the resource
Programme is for Pwllhi and Lleyn, 21 -28 March 1942, image of Winston Churchill on the reverse.
Date
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1942-03-21
Format
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One small printed poster
Language
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eng
Type
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Artwork
Text
Identifier
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MBaxterPD52604-160712-080001, MBaxterPD52604-160712-080002
Coverage
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Royal Navy
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
Wales--Gwynedd
Temporal Coverage
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1942-03-21
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1526/29793/BMilesRJMilesRJv1.1.pdf
9c4ecee51db3f431f91201332344b0c2
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Title
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Miles, Reg
Reginald J Miles
R J Miles
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2016-07-26
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Miles, RJ
Description
An account of the resource
102 items. The collection concerns Reg Miles (1923 - 2022) and contains his audio memoir, log book, photographs and documents. He flew 36 operations with 432 and 420 Squadrons.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by R Miles and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S. of T.T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U.s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242 – 245 – 511
Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 1
Ex Apprentice No 1 S. of T.T., R.A.F.
The summer job had ended and there was a few months to go before I would leave for Halton, must get a job Mum said, so I got a job as a paper boy with Smith’s Book Shop in Westgate, delivering the morning papers to all the grand houses in the area and woe betide you if you got the houses wrong, no scandal sheets there all Times, Telegraph, Financial Review, and sometimes the Daily Express but certainly no Mirror. A friend worked for the same place and we both rode the Smith’s bikes, very distinctive they were, painted dark red with a large panel under the cross bar with the company logo on it and either side of the back wheel large canvas bags to hold the newspapers. Riding towards home together one day we came across a coal ship hight and dry on the Nayland rocks, which jutted out into the Margate harbour entrance, the skipper had missed the turn and when the tide went out there he was stuck, the crew were busy shovelling the coal over the side onto the rocks so that the ship could get off on the next tide. Too much of a temptation for two young boys, onto the rocks we went with the bikes and filled up the bags at the back with coal and home to the thanks of a family with a little more fuel for the winter. How the mighty are fallen, as we turned up for work the next morning at the crack of dawn, we were greeted by the manager with the words ‘you two are sacked here are your wages now clear’, when we asked why we were shown the front page of just about every newspaper with pictures of us and Smith’s bikes filling the bags with coal, and head office in London were not at all pleased, silly buggers very cheap advertising for them, so ended my last job before entering The Royal Air Force.
On January 24th 1939 I arrived at Wendover Railway Station in Buckingham Shire on a special train from Paddington with about one thousand other new boys, we were all shapes and sizes, colours, and aged between fifteen and eighteen. Halton at that time was the Apprentice Training Establishment for The Royal Air Force in the various aviation trades which included Engine Fitter, Airframe Fitter and other trades that were just starting to be developed. Prior to this most work on aeroplanes was done by the same people., but aircraft were becoming more complicated
[page break]
and needed specialists for just about every part, guns, radio, electric’s and so on. RAF Halton still is a training station for the engine, airframe, and all other bits and pieces of the aircraft. (I was recently told that a cook school was now in operation!!). The bits all have different names now. When I joined in January 1939 there were four wings each one had about 1000 boys in it under training, the course was three years, two entries each year , entry by competitive written examination of many subjects including, Math, English, and a number of science subjects which at my age when I took the exam at 14 made me struggle a bit but I got in! Massive workshops, an airfield and each wing was self-contained with proper three storey brick buildings housing the sleeping accommodation, each wing also had its own parade ground, gymnasium, cookhouse, band and all other facilities, different coloured hat bands were worn by each wing.
Apprentices were known as Brats and when you had passed out from Halton after a three year course you were an Ex Brat and a very close bondship with others who had been through Halton existed. Now March 15 1998!! I seem to have been very busy with all sorts of projects and still have some in the pipe line either incomplete or not even started yet but will endeavour to type a little more to keep this going. The first thing that happened to all us new boys was a medical to see if we were fit enough for service in the R.A.F. The first complete check up for most of us,the M.O. told me I had flat feet, said I did a lot of cross country running perhaps that was the cause!! Strange to say it was recently found that people with high arches were not able to stand the stress of marching and battle fatigue, flat was better. Next was fitting for a uniform, no I did not take size nine boots that Mum had said I would grow into but eight and a half and that still left room for thick socks.
Once all into our uniforms we paraded in sections for the swearing in for which we received an extra shilling (the Kings shilling) Most of us suffered with those boots made from leather so they said, more like sheets of armour plate, toes and ankle bones were rubbed sore after the first few hours, the corporal in charge of our section told us to fill the boots with water, pee was best, and stand them by our beds over night, empty them out and put them on straight away they would never hurt again, he was right but most mothers would have had a fit to see their little darlings squelching about in wet feet all day. I was allocated to four wing and told I would be trained as a Fitter 2E which meant I would become an aero engine fitter, others became Fitters 2A airframe, and others would become instrument, radio, and armament specialists. There were also boys who had joined the Royal Navy and would be trained in the same trades for the Fleet Air Arm, they were known as artificers, tiffys to the rest of us. Our uniform was the same as the regular service with proper trousers instead of a kind of jodhpurs with puttees that were wound around the lower leg, these were still worn by “Boy Entrants”
[page break]
who were trained in similar trades elsewhere but would end up as mechanics after a much shorter course, I think they were boys who were keen to get into the R.A.F but had not been able to pass the entry examination for apprentices. To distinguish four wing from the other three we had a bright orange-yellow hat band not too sure what the other were, seem to remember red and also black and red squares, we also had on our arm a brass badge that was a wheel with crossed propeller blades inside, and wore small rank badges the same as the adult services if promoted. All of the boys in the new entry were taken in group to the airfield and given a short flight in De Haviland Tiger Moth, gave us some idea how big Halton was and in most cases the first taste of airsickness, never had any trouble with this problem when I was flying as crew, but even a short flight at times as a passenger made me hang on to my seat and swallow heavily!! I joined the cross country team of four wing, and completed in many events during my period at Halton, won medals for this event and passed them on to Gillian for safe keeping. I was promoted to leading apprentice and made responsible for one of the rooms which held about thirty boys, one of them called Shaw I will never forget, a good looking boy but had a way of life completely strange to me and I suspect to most of the boys of my age.
This first came to light one night when he returned from a weekend pass with a full suit case full of cigarettes, where they came from we didn’t ask but we all got some free samples my share being double. He then told me he had a flat in London and a girl friend he kept there and paid for, how this was possible on three shillings a week I just could not understand, but it all came out later on. Because I was responsible for seeing that everyone in my room was present at “lights out” each night and weekend passes were only allowed very rare, Jonny Shaw asked me to sign him in nearly every weekend so he could go to London, didn’t worry me to do this, hadn’t asked to be a leading apprentice, was just given the job and I was never short of a packet of “fags”. One night late Johny turned up with another suit case, after climbing through a hole in the fence near our room, instead of cigarettes it contained woman’s clothing that he had picked up on the train from London, because it was there! Told him in no uncertain manner that if he didn’t do something about returning it to the owner it was the last time I covered for him. He packed up the case and took it out of the room and I expected he would leave it close to the guard room so that it would be found early in the morning and sent on it’s way to a very worried female. That was not Johny’s way, when I took a detail of boys out at the crack of dawn to make sure there was no rubbish about the place, every post, lamp standard, sign board and railing was draped with all of the contents of the case, we found the case and quickly packed the items back in and I took it to the guard room and stated that it has been found some way away from our room, it was opened by the police and an address found inside and was I presumed sent on to it’s owner, but I was very mad a Johny Shaw and never covered for him again,
[page break]
didn’t stop him from going out when he wanted to. Some months later he was found to have been forging instructors signatures on chits to book out micrometer and vernier gauges from the stores and was no doubt selling these in London and perhaps committing other crimes we knew nothing of, he was discharged from the R.A.F and as the second world war started soon after probably had a prosperous war and even ended up rich and famous, may be knighted for his efforts, while the rest of us fought and died! I have recently been contacted as a result of this webpage by Peter Long, another one of our fellows who knew Johny. He did become very rich eventually, Rolls Royce, Two ‘Planes of his own etc.!
R.A.F Halton was at one time a county residence owned by the Rothchild family whether they gave it to the R.A.F I don’t know but the “house” was used for the officer’s mess and the stables were allocated to the apprentices for a “hobby shop”. The stables were a magnificent set of buildings with curved brick walls and big enough to house a dozen families in great comfort. Many of the boys at Halton came from very wealthy families, some sons of aircraft manufacturers because it was recognised that an apprenticeship at Halton was the finest training anywhere in the world in Aircraft engineering. One father had given his son a new Ford car, he was probably in his last year of the three year course, we all helped him to take it completely to pieces and each part was reassembled with great care so that every part was a perfect fit, ran like a sewing machine the quietest Ford I have ever known.
There were even sons of Indian Princes, in fact it seemed as if every nation was represented there, many of the boys when they had finished their apprenticeship were “bought out” by their parents and returned to their own country or in some cases the firm that their parents owned in Britain, can’t remember the cost but did hear at the time it would have bought a row of houses in any town in England! The railway station we all arrived at was Wendover and the nearest large one was Alyesbury, (famous for ducks!) county seat for Buckinghamshire. Halton was set just below a ridge of hills and covered many square miles of country, the workshops were massive, covering all trades that operated in the Royal Air Force, an airfield with a grass runway complete with hangers and numerous aircraft that were used for hands on work and proper lecture halls where we were brought up to date on current affairs, and scientific laboratories with the latest equipment used in the testing of materials. The idea was to give not only complete technical training but a good all round knowledge much like a private college, apart from training in military matters and of course plenty of sporting activities. We were paid 5 shillings a week, four of which was saved for us, to be given when we went on leave, breakages which were deducted for individual items broken or worn out before a replacement was normally issued, boys can be hard on clothes! We were issued with a complete kit of
[page break]
clothes which included just about every thing required, but out of our weekly shilling we had to purchase things like metal and boot polish, once a week we had kit and barrack inspections when everything has to be spit and polish and all kit in good order, when the war started in September 1939 things change very rapidly, our three year course was cut down to just over two by stopping all holidays and we worked from dawn to dusk on our training, the subjects did not get shortened just longer days and no holidays or week ends, and we had to do anti invasion patrols and ride around the hills on our bicycles in the evenings to check for land mines that may have been dropped to blow the place up. At this time my father and mother had rented a house at High Wycombe which was not too far away from Halton, Dad was in charge of all military and naval buildings and repairs caused by shelling and bombing in Dover, so Mum lived at High Wycombe and Dad came up when he could, he had an old car and special petrol rations because of his work. I managed to get a weekend pass and went to get my bicycle from where it had been requisitioned for us in land mine patrols, the sergeant in charge said I couldn’t have mine but let me have grotty old service bike, think he was using it himself as it was new and my pride and joy, set out to visit Mum and Dad and coming round a corner met a flock of sheep all over the road, no where to go so crashed into the bank and bent the frame so that I could only steer one way, took me ages to get to High Wycombe and could not get anyone to mend it so Dad put it on the roof of his car and took me back to camp, left Halton soon after and took my bike with me.
The entry ages for Halton were 15 to 18, and we signed on for 12 years of service from the age of 18. As I was almost the minimum age, I was 15 in November 1938 and joined in January 1939, I would have been 18 when I finished the apprenticeship, but due to the war and cutting out holidays etc, I was only 17, I therefore was still classed as a boy when I left Halton and was not informed what rank I had passed my final examinations, so when I arrived at my first operational posting was paid the princely sum of ten shillings a week (about one dollar a week), yet was the only qualified member of the gang and had to tell men much older than myself sometimes the right way to do things.
– Reg Miles
Those items listed below can be found on the web at
http://members.aol.com/famjustin/Milesbio.html
[page break]
[underlined] Biography of Phyllis Miles (formerly Phyllis Dike), [/underlined] LACW, WAAF
[underlined] Collected Poetry of Reg Miles, [/underlined] Flight Engineer, No1SoTT Halton/ MUs/ Snowy Owls, 420 Sqdn RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 511 Transport Command, RAF
[underlined] Miss Phyllis Miles nee Dike, [/underlined] Photo, LACW, WAAF
[underlined] Group Photo, [/underlined] 432 Squadron RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Yorkshire
[underlined] 420 Squadron Badge, [/underlined] Photo, 6 Group Bomber Command, Tholthorpe Yorkshire, RCAF
[underlined] Barrington-Kennett Trophy Winners, [/underlined] 1939/40, Photo, Reg Miles, RAF Halton, RAF
[underlined] FIDO, [/underlined] Anecdote, Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, RAF
[underlined] Flight Engineer Reg Miles, [/underlined] Photo of Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, 432 Sqdn RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, RAF
[underlined] Flight Log 1664 HCU page one, page two, 432 Squadron page 1, 2, 3, 4, 420 Squadron page 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 1332 H.C.U. Page 1, Certificates of Competency, 242 Squadron, Page 1, Page 2, Page 3, 246 Squadron, Page 1, Page 2, 511 Squadron, Page 1, Page 2, Page 3, Page 4, Page 5, Page 6, Page 7, Page 8, Reg Miles, [/underlined] Flight Engineer, No1SoTT Halton/ MUs/ Snowy Owls, 420 Sqdn RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 511 Transport Command, RAF
[underlined] Halifax, E Easy and Crew, [/underlined] Photo of Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, 420 Sqdn RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, RAF
[underlined] Mail Plane, [/underlined] RAF Joke, Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, RAF
[underlined] Missing in Action Telegram, [/underlined] Reg Miles, 432 Squadron RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Yorkshire
[underlined] PLUTO, [/underlined] Anecdote, Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, RAF
[underlined] Queen Mary, [/underlined] Photo, Reg Miles, 67 M.U.s, RAF
[underlined] Salvaging a Bristol Beaufort, [/underlined] Photo, Reg Miles, 67 M.U.s, RAF
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[underlined] Tholthorpe Control Tower, [/underlined] from Jim Tease, Pilot, Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, 420 Sqdn RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, RAF
[underlined] Wedding Photo, [/underlined] Photo of Reg Miles, Flight Engineer, No1SoTT Halton/ MUs/ Bomber Command/ 511 Transport Command, RAF
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Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S.of T.T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U,s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242 – 246 – 511 Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 2
Ex Apprentice, 34 – 67 M.U.s, R.A.F.
I was posted to 34 Maintenance Unit Shrewsbury in Shropshire 5-10-1940, this unit was housed in sheds on the out-skirts of Shrewsbury and was responsible for the repair on site of crashed aircraft and the recovery of crashed aircraft that could not be flown away, this included both British, German, Italian, and later on American. The Flight Sergeant in charge of the crew of about six airmen was about sixty, was an optician in civvy street, had been a driver in the 1914-18 war so had no knowledge of aircraft, the rest of the gang were ex-garage workers only about one had any experience with spanners so it was finding out the hard way how ‘planes came to bites! We also had a driver for our Chevy truck and could call on “Queen Mary” low loaders and Coles cranes to lift things, but many times we were unable to get cranes or trucks to the site and it was sheer legs and muscle that were used.
[missing photograph]
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[italics] Photo of a crane of the type we used to salvage aircraft during my time with 34 & 67 MUs in 40-41. On show as an Amazon Crane but the same as a Coles one, so have altered it’s title. It is on show at the Yorkshire Air Museum based at Elvington airfield a WW2 bomber station flying the dear old Halifax of 77 Squadron RAF and two Free French squadrons 346 Guyenne and 347 Tunisie [/italics]
The only time I tried to drive a Coles Crane I made a complete mess of it and sheared the drive shaft!! The two Polish operators were not well pleased, but as the could not speak English and I not able to understand a single word of their long and arm waving complaint, it was left to our Flight Sergeant to ball me out, and as he was a geriatric (well must have been all of 50) little notice was taken of it all. The Poles got underneath and removed the bit, replaced it and were operational in a few hours, I was not allowed anywhere near it after!!
The lowloader, Queen Mary, was a specially made semi trailer body, very low platform with wheels exterior, from memory would think the platform about 12 inches from ground, also very long able to take most aircraft fuselages and wings. Extending side rails were fitted that could be locked up so that wings could be stood on their leading edges, one on either side (on sand bags to prevent damage) and strapped to these side rails, the rails were also covered in felt to prevent damage, and strapped to these side rails, the rails were also covered in felt to prevent damage, this left the centre of the trailer free to fit the fuselage on trestles, with propellor removed but engine still in place, some aircraft with long bodies could extend over the tail board if put on trestles to clear, open body to the trailer so that there was no height restriction, only the height of bridges and power cables, standard 1939-40 prime mover, 6 cylinder Perkins or Ford, nothing like the monsters on todays roads. It was called “Queen Mary” because they were so long that the only thing to compare them with was the ship of the same name.
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photo from David Searle-Baker Queen Mary
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Recovering Hawker Tempest Mk. V Wreck
My first job with them was at an aerodrome called Shawbury that was used to train pilots and Navigators, a Spitfire pilot had been shot in a fight with a German fighter and had lost a lot of blood before crash landing beside the main runway and the aircraft had tipped onto it’s back as he had not been able to lower the underbridge. The first job was to make the guns safe and remove any bombs before starting to dismantle the ‘plane, the next job was always to remove instruments that were either secret or likely to be stolen, this in a Spitfire was the gunsight, compass and a clock it fitted, as the new boy I got the job of crawling into the upside down cockpit to remove these items while the rest of the gang removed the wing fairings and bolts to waggle the wings off. I had to get on hands a [sic] knees to get the items off as they were almost on the ground, felt something wet on my head and back as I worked, found when I crawled out that a large pad of congealed blood had come adrift from the floor and I was a right mess, no water anywhere near as we were miles from any building, the crew washed me off with the 100 octane petrol we drained from the ‘plane, but as we sat and ate our lunch of sandwiches couldn’t help keep looking at the blood still under my finger nails. As we sat and ate we saw a training Miles Master coming in to land with the cockpit hood open and the horn blaring loudly to warn the pilot that his under carriage was not down, we all stood up and waved like mad, the pilot, probably doing his first solo landing, waved back with a big smile on his face and crashed, we now had another ‘plane to remove!
I don’t know how the trainee pilot got on, we helped him out and he had no damage but whether he was “scrubbed” or not have no idea (scrubbed thrown off the pilot’s course through some error).
The Spitfire being monococ [sic] construction in aluminium alloys was a very easy aircraft to dismantle and transport, the main wing spar consisted of a series of square tubes fitted inside each other, gradually tapering towards the wing tip, the mating tubes for these being very close to the fuselage, with the propeller removed the body fitted easily into a low loader and the wings were slid in either side being supported on sand bags to prevent damage and strapped to the extendable rails fitted to the sides of the low loader, the guns, ammunition, and propeller being stowed in any suitable position. The Miles Master being of wooden construction was an entirely different proposition, the wing roots were attached about one and a half metres either side of the fuselage making this “centre section” which was not removable about three and a half to four and a half metres wide, when placed on the sides of the low loader these projected out each side a considerable amount and because they were very low often jammed on road side obstructions, this was particularly a problem on the windy narrow country roads with many “hump
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Back” bridges, we were caught only one when the centre section rode up onto the walls of a hump back bridge and very nearly caused the injury to one of the crew riding in the back of the low loader, three or four sleepers lashed to the side rails lifted this aircraft high enough to clear any road side obstacles. We never had enough red flags to fix to the overhangs so it was almost a game to ride in the back of the low loader and lean over as we motored along and steal the flags placed in empty paint cans by the road gangs, as we used the same route frequently from training airfields to our depot I guess the road workers got fed up with us and one day as one of the gang grabbed a flag found himself flying through the air to land in the road, the rotters had concreted all the flags in and they were very heavy, no damage done just a few bruises and wounded pride. Coming back from the same airfield one day we were held up by a new gang with a Miles Master stuck on the hump back bridge walls, to add to their problems their Coles crane was in front of the low loader so couldn’t get to the plane to lift it up, we managed to get our crane in place and help them out, they hadn’t read standing orders! Called to the same airfield with instruction to remove some twenty Avro Ansons from a hanger we through they were being transferred to another airfield, when we got there found the whole lot burnt out in the hanger, looked like an elephant’s grave yard with just the steel tubing frames and melting engines and propellers lined up in two long rows. When we asked what had happened were told that during the night an airman on guard duty saw a low flying airplane crossing the field and identified it as a German one so fired his rifle at it, the plane dropped it’s bomb which landed on the concrete outside the hanger, bounced over the bomb proof doors, bounced on the hanger floor and just missed going clean out the other end but hit a girder and went off. The airman had been put on a charge for firing at an unidentified aircraft!
I was going on my first leave after being posted to an RAF squadron as an aero engine fitter, and at only 17 in 1940 felt a big wheel, My folks lived in Dover and my brother of 9 years would need something from my war, grabbed a handful of .303” ammunition from a crashed training Hurricane, pulled out the bullets and emptied out the charge, would put the cases in a fire when I got home to get rid of the caps and put the bullets back, would impress my small brother. Put the cases in a fire out in the yard and got a most awful telling off from Mum, they were having more than their share of bangs. Next day was about to leave the house to look up at the “dogfights” going on above, Mother said you’ll get killed by falling shrapnel stay indoors, but out I went, and in I went after a few seconds as redhot bits of metal fell around me, I might be in the RAF but my folks and young brother were seeing more of the war than I was, my few bullets were nothing compared to his collection of shrapnel, from both our guns and those firing 12inch shells from France, he has seen more action that I had!!
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We had arrived at a very posh looking house set up on a rise with a well maintained garden with small bushes lining the curving path to the front door and a perfect green lawn. I suppose we did look a sorry bunch with our usual costume of rolled down gum boots, white socks turned over the top and greasy overalls that were well over due for a wash, no hats and most with a few days of beard, long uncombed hair in fact even the ‘chiefy’ could have passed for the robber leader, we had been out on the road for about a week and were tired and hungry when we got yet another job before returning to base for a rest. Chiefy went up to the front door and was answered by a smart looking man who took the Flight Sergeant round the back of the house through a very ornate garden arch way, he soon came back and called us to follow him. The sight that met the eyes was one to make us all laugh, a learner pilot has got into trouble and seeing what looked like a nice open field came into land, too late he found it was a chicken farm with lots of tall wire fences to separate the various chickens, his ‘plane had become wrapped up like a parcel as he ploughed through the lot, but to make matters even worse as his ‘plane neared the back of the house his engine fell off and landed into a rather nice goldfish pond, this cracked the concrete and all the water ran out stranding the fish. The owner was not a very happy man and refused most emphatically to allow us to clear a wide path way back through the mess so we could get a crane in to lift the whole lot out by a back way, no it all had to go round the side of the house and no damage must be done. What a hope he had the radial engine was levered out of the pond and rolled with great difficulty through the side gate, a few bits came off both as we struggled to hold the engine upright but when we got to the front of the house it just seemed to get a life of it’s own and rolled across the lawn leaving giant size foot prints and demolished hedges and flower beds on it’s way. The rest of the aircraft was sawn into bits and man handled the same way, miserable sod never even gave us a cup of tea when we had finished, just growled he would report us for damage we had caused, we all hoped his chickens never laid another egg.
As to the Learner who crashed, he was long gone before we got there. This was not always the case as we did come across the odd bits and bobs and even complete bodies at times, not all RAF either.
For about three months we worked all over the north part of England and Wales, even had to close The Mersey Tunnel one time to tow an American light bomber through from Speke don’t know why or where we took it. We were then transferred to 67M.U. bases in Taunton the county seat of Somerset. The depot was in a large garage on the main road south of the city, has it’s own sports field out the back which we used for general storage during transit, all the low loaders, lorries, and cranes were parked in various streets which had to have guards circulating during the night, our five rounds of ammunition and World War 1 rifle must not be lost or even used,
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it was all we had, another job for the technical people, office and stores people never got this job, perhaps because they made out the lists, one time when we were back at base had to spend the day shovelling coal at the railway station to fuel the fires for the office staff, couldn’t let them get dirty, wonder if Churchill knew that his trained people were waiting on the lazy sods in the office.
This was early in 1941 with the threat of invasion by the German army still a possibility, the sports field was surrounded with a high spiked railing fence. The fence was six feet high made of steel spikes about 3 quarters of an inch in diameter, spaced about six inches apart fitted through holes at top and bottom of steel plates which were made of 2 inch by 1/4 inch steel. I’m sure you must have some around houses or playing fields where you live. The spikes were held in swaged nibs pressed into the spikes when the sections of fence were made this held the spikes in place. We were given the job of filing off the nibs that held alternate spikes in place. We had to file these nibs off alternate spikes so the fence did not collapse, but the “doctored” spikes could be removed. Each one of these then had a number pained on it, all airmen were allocated a spike and on the call to arms would rush to get out their spike, if they could, and fend off the invading hordes of Germans with their Tiger tanks, machines guns and other lethal weapons, no doubt we should have had a major victory as the German troops fell about laughing!!
The C.O. held a dummy run which became a real pantomime as men fought for a spike having forgotten their number and short people couldn’t reach high enough to pull them out of the top rail. Nobody got stabbed but it was a close run thing. We all treated the whole thing as a joke, it is easy when you have your back firmly against the wall to consider defeat impossible, and so many of the daft ideas did work, FIDO, PLUTO, to name just two. This one was one of those that just was stupid!!
The same wally of a C.O. who gave us the spikes decided to make me up to a Corporal, told him he couldn’t because I still didn’t know what rank I had passed out from Halton, and in any case being technical trade had to pass a trade board before I could be promoted. Threatened to put me on a charge if I didn’t put up my stripes straight away to be officially second in charge of the gang, just ignored him and was called up before him a couple of days later to be told he couldn’t promote me for the reasons I had given him, but told me I had passed out from Halton as a Fitter 2 Engine with the rank of Aircraftman First class and my pay would start right away because of the work I was doing, so I did get some thing out of it all. Following on this I was given the job as Station Armourer, responsible for sorting and packing for dispatch all bombs, cannons, machines guns and ammunition brought in from crashes. I was given the relevant Air Ministry orders to tell
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me what to do because lets face it I was not even 18 and trained as an engine fitter, but perhaps the only real airman on the place, I was given the away team half of the sports changing room, the Station Warrant Officer had the other half, a retread from 14-18 war and responsible for station discipline.
One of the jobs I had to do was strip all guns of any bullets “up the spout” as many had major damage and bent barrels, this was never easy, the breach blocks had to be taken out and packed in separate boxes, with a bullet jammed in, the only way to release the blocks was to fire the gun which sent the bullet up the bent barrel and this released the breach blocks, S.W.O. came in one day when I had a pile of Browning Machine guns on the bench all with bent barrels and was firing them one at a time to get the breach blocks out, nearly wet himself, and then a few days later I was burning all the Very pistol cartridges. These were all different colours and were used to signal and identify aircraft. Usually they just burnt with lots of bright colours but this lot started flying all over the place just as he marched out of his office with his cane under his arm, moved pretty quick for an oldy and got back inside his office, seemed to think I did it on purpose!!
Does seem a bit mad perhaps now to do what I did as an “armourer”. But times were a bit desperate you know and everything was in very short supply so if it could be repaired and returned into service we might just survive.
The first 20m/m cannon I dismantled was a problem, had never seen one before had no books on it and had to get the breach block out, barrel was straight and nothing up it, the cannon was about two and a half metres long and the only nut I could see was on the “blunt” end, a large hexagonal nut with a locking tab on it, so behind it must be the return spring and hopefully the breach block, with the “blunt” end sticking out the open door I got to work and the nut kept turning and seemed to have lots of thread, with a bang the last turn flew off and what seemed like yards of spring flew out of the door, and guess who was just leaving the office? The other problems with the 20m/m cannon was the round cartridge drum that fitted on the breach, these always arrived to me battered and bent and the only way to get the shells out was to cut a slot in the case and prise or shake the shells out, I was sitting on the bench with an ammunition box on the floor shaking a drum to get the shells out when the door burst open and a strange sergeant charged in, “Call yourself an armourer” he shouted, “Stop that before you kill us both”. When I told him who and what I was he said that he had never seen a cannon gun in fact he didn’t know much at all as he had spent the last few years at a place called Shaibah in the Gulf and had only worked on Vickers water cooled guns while there, but he did know the coding for the shells I was dropping into a box and some were of a very delicate contact type to explode on contact with the thin aluminium skin of a ‘plane! I filled him in
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with all I knew and what had to be done with each type of weapon and worked with him for a week or so until I managed to get back with my old gang.
Shortly after we were sent on detachment to an airfield in Cornwall called St. Eval, at which were based Bristol Beaufort Torpedo Bombers, they were sent out after German ships and dock installations and had received very heavy casualties.
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Men of 67 MU at Bristol Beaufort Recovery Reg 2nd from left back row
We were housed in one of the Nissen huts and started work right away as there was a Spitfire sitting on top of a dry stone wall at the edge of the airfield, the pilots had overshot, bounced and come to a halt perfectly balanced on the wall, pained on the side was the pilots name and the legend “Sempre in Excreta” (Latin is not my strong point!) Always in the shit! At the end of the runway was a stone quarry and a Beaufort had crashed into it on take off loaded with torpedoes, these had detonated so there was little to move mainly the two large radial engines, one was in the middle of the quarry and our crane soon lifted that into a lorry, the other was partly buried under stone and against the quarry wall so we had to move it out with brute force to get it into a position that the crane could reach, It was hard hot work and we were having trouble keeping our footing because of all the oil that had spilt out when it had hit the wall, except it wasn’t oil but half a man buried under the engine, not a pretty sight but a nurse who just happened to be looking on helped us to put the remains in sacks so that they could be buried properly with the rest of the poor devil. We very rarely had a problem with bodies or parts there of, because the bodies were taken away before we arrived on the scene.
We did have one occasion when we were sent onto the moors to remove a Hawker Hurricane, but it was the wring number and found the pilot still in it, we reported this and found our one a mile or so away. The Hawker Hurricane was a very different type of construction from the Spitfire,
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basically a steel tubular frame around which were fitted wooden formers and these were joined together by wooden strips along the length of the fuselage, the wings were very similar and all surfaces were covered with doped fabric, this was very time consuming to make and repair, much like a model aeroplane in appearance. A fitter from Hawker’s had almost finished this repair to a Hurricane when German bombers gave us a visit to pay back for what the Beauforts were doing in France, a bomb dropped outside the bomb proof door, blew them in and flattened the poor Hurricane! We got bombed out that night so drove a few miles away to a friendly looking field and slept all in a row under a tarp for a few nights until we were given an empty holiday beach house at Trearnon Bay which became our base for a few weeks, when we were not out on a job. Visited St. Eval in the 1980s and they were only just starting to remove the remains of that hanger blown up in early 1941.
During the next few weeks we were constantly on the move all over Cornwall, from Penzance across to Predanack, which is on the other leg at the base of Cornwall. Working on a Whirlwind, twin engined fighter-bomber which had nose dived straight into the ground, on a desolate part of the moors, all that showed was the edges of sheets of aluminium in the ground and lying a few feet away, a hand complete with a ring on, we could not salvage the plane and pilot’s body without large earth moving gear and instructions were received to pull out what we could and fill the hole in, as we worked we heard the sound of aircraft high up and turned to watch a flight of the same ‘planes go by, as we watched one pealed off and dived into the ground a few miles away, heard later that the tail planes of this aircraft were a bit suspect. We always had billets in the nearest place to where we worked, sometimes this was an Army Camp or a pub and in this case we were living in a cafe at Predanack, after a wash we all trooped into the dining room for our first meal and on came a Cornish pastie, about a foot long and looked delicious but didn’t think it was a lot for six or seven hungry blokes to share, but then in came the rest and we had one each!
Once we had to go to a Fleet Air Arm station to dismantle an aircraft, it was in a hanger and we were dressed in our usual scruffy outfits, all these Naval types marching about at the double, and the public address system nearly drove us mad, never seemed to stop with lots of whistles and incomprehensible bellowing, asked one of the sailors what it all meant his answer left us just as ignorant as before. We were in one of the huts and left our truck at the hanger to walk to the mess hall to get some lunch, as we strolled by a hut the window flew open and a loud voice wanted to know what we were doing walking on the Quarter deck and tried to make us run across, not in gum boots we couldn’t and didn’t try. That night being near a town, after 50 years have no idea which one, we all thought a night on the town would be a good change, so managed to tidy ours [sic] selves up and found
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out when the bus left and got to the guard room at the main gate just as a sailor closed and locked it, outside was the queue for the bus which had yet to arrive. “Open” we all said, can’t was the reply because the liberty boat has gone, what a load of rubbish, if you were on a ship you could understand it, if the Navy still do things that way it’s about time they changed from the days of Rum, bum and Nelson!! Soon got away from that stupid place probably didn’t know there was a war on we certainly did and spent all our days clearing away the rubbish caused by it. Often we had to remove crashed German aircraft that had been shot down, most were just a heap of burnt wreckage with often the remains of the crew inside, not recognisable as such just bits of bone that had not been found for burial, at other times we would have a complete ‘plane with little or no damage, there we took to pieces if not able to fly out from where they were, went to a special place to be put together perhaps with parts from other ‘planes to make them airworthy, and test flown to find out more about that type. Once we were called to an aerodrome near the coast where, I think it was a J.U.88 had landed the pilot thinking he was over the channel in France, the duty officer seeing the plane land had driven out in a jeep and crashed into the tail to stop it taking off again, we had to get the bits from a depot that was full of the German ‘planes and replace the damaged parts. Some of the early R.A.F. bombers such as the twin engined Handley Page Hampden were fitted with special balloon cable cutters to the leading edge of the main wings, these in theory would be tripped as the cable slid into it’s jaws and an explosive charge would fire a razor sharp chisel cutting the cable allowing the plane to get free, after a number of M.U. airmen had lost fingers while man handling wings during salvage instructions were issue that these had to be tripped before any work was done on the aircraft, I tripped the only one I worked on and it chopped the end from my screwdriver! An American Flying Fortress had crashed somewhere in Devonshire, can’t remember where, and what it was doing in England I don’t know, though the Yanks came in much later, anyhow we were told to get it and it must be sent up to Liverpool. The biggest thing we had tackled, got the fuselage, wings and engines away alright but the centre section was very wide and when stood on it’s leading edge was exceptionally high.
The local police were always asked for advice on getting past low bridges and electricity wires, spent more than a week travelling a few miles only to find yet another low bridge in our way, chiefy was fed up and so were we camping along the road where ever we go stuck, most aircraft that we worked on had a fire axe stowed on board so we had a good selection of sharp ones we used for all sorts of jobs, we cut foot and hand holes in the centre section and cut off with the axes quite a few feet from the trailing edge which was now the top and were able to get back to the depot next day, thing was only worth scrap anyway. After about 5 months of this work which in most cases was just garbage collection, not what I had been trained
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at great expense to do, I saw a notice on orders calling for volunteers to go over seas. I put in my application and was accepted, given seven days posting leave and reported to the assembly camp called I think Paddington, hundreds or more like thousands of airmen of all trades were gathered there and we were all issued with both tropical and cold weather equipment, had two large kit bags of the stuff to lug about plus personal kit in a small bag. After about ten days of this which included a medical we were all paraded on the very large parade ground to get our instructions to more to lorries and get abroad a ship, suddenly a voice bellowed out “575931 Miles R.J. fall out and report to the parade adjutant” was that me? “yes” said a bloke next to me who had become a friend. So out I marched dragging bags in front of all these assembled airman, saluted after dropping the bags and reported my name and number, still not 18 I was told I was too young to go where these men were going and told to hand in my kit and report back to my unit, this lot went to Russia I found out later and many did not return, some drowned when their ship was sunk and others just died from the cold!
– Reg Miles
The URL of this page is
http://www.geocities.com/milbios/Milesbio2.html
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Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S.of T.T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U.s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242 – 246 – 511 Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 3
27 Air School, Bloemspruit South Africa,
B Squadron, Service Unit, R.A.F.
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I didn’t spend long back at Taunton before the call came again to report for over seas posting, I’d had the special leave so on the train to Blackpool this time.
The Leaving of Liverpool “ring any bells” a film about children forcefully taken from England during and shortly after the war, the parents and children never told if the others were alive and the children taken to Church run HOMES in Australia and treated as slave labour, in fact in many cases the children built the homes (as in collective enclaves) As I said a very different life style, we were all led to believe that they (as in any one in authority even self proclaimed) knew best and slavishly carried out their instructions to the letter. Children were abused, physically, mentally and sexually, both boys and girls, how did it happen, only because authority was not questioned until recently and only now is the truth coming out of those children’s tragic lives.
Bearing all that in mind you may not be surprised to read that I like my peers did as I was told without question.
The journey out to South Africa started from the joys of Blackpool, a holiday resort in the north of England, no work, billeted in houses normally
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used to accommodate the vast numbers of “visitors” from the industrial towns of the north during their summer holidays. The local “landladies” welcomed us with open arms, we were a source of income to them, not that they opened too wide the food cupboards, but many daughters opened their hearts and arms to us, we were all young healthy and free. Had my first go on ice skates at the local rink and after a few falls soon mastered it and really enjoyed it. Soon became time to board ship S.S. Mooltan 20,000 tons of sheer misery at Liverpool and head out into the Atlantic that was waiting for us with all the dirty weather it could find. April 1941, could well have been April fools days for all I know.
By buses we arrived at grey Liverpool to stand for hours on a grey dockside in front of a grey wall that stretched to the sky and disappeared into the grey distance, only relieved by a black hole in it’s side through which countless airmen staggered carrying all their worldly goods contained in two kitbags and a small case. One of the kitbags contained our normal selection of issue clothing, the other, two complete outfits one of tropical shorts shirts etc, the other cold weather clothes suitable for Russia!! We had no idea where we were headed and it was hoped neither did the enemy! The kitbag not required was taken off us well into the voyage, the Russian one I am now very happy to say!!
The Mooltan 20,000 tons of aging ship, massive to us but now would only be classed as a small ship 100,000 tons seems to be the average, 250,000 tons on the large size!!
Our turn came at last and through the hole we trooped to find ourselves in a black cavern, directed through doors that were about a foot off the floor so that dragging kitbags jammed and brought forth words of complain not heard very frequently in church. Now completely lost and descending even deeper into the bowels of this black tank we were at last told that is where you stay until told to move and that heap there contain hammocks and those hooks there are where you swing them and those tables and benches are where you eat and some can sleep on them and the heads are there and don’t move!!
So we sat and surrounded with our bags wondered what we had done to deserve this, after all we had volunteered for overseas posting, but this?
A few thought to see what was through the next doorway but only more of the same lots of airmen sat sitting waiting to be told what to do. Ah a sergeant has arrived, ‘you and you come with me’, not me but a couple near who left their kit and followed as detailed, who return some time later with urns of tea, a scramble to find our own kitbag and delve into it’s contents to find our ‘mugs airmen’ hopefully still in one piece.
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These two had been delegated as our mess orderlies and would fetch our food at the times arranged, well at least we should be fed and the tea was hot strong and sweet, by this time it was getting late in the day not that we had any idea whether the sun was shining or it was raining, the urns were returned and the message came back to sling your hammocks and get in.
I was just about 18 from memory and certainly the youngest in our “room”, places on the benches and tables had already been taken by those in the know. The Mooltan was a slow old converted cargo ship. As such the accommodations were happenstance and crowded. The only hammock hook left was over the stairwell and passage way. This is where I had to sling my hammock, which was over the stair case leading to the lower toilets. I slung my hammock and endeavoured to climb in and found myself on the floor the opposite side, I had tied it too tight and had no head room so that as I climbed in I pushed myself out again, instructions from those near who were well bedded down soon got things “ship shape” and I crawled in to assume the shape of a banana, not at all comfortable and desperately aware that a trip to the heads should have been made before becoming cocooned like this.
Sleep came but was soon interrupted by the rustling noise as hammocks swayed and rubbed together, we were on the move but this soon stopped and dawn found us moored in mid river, we had been allowed on deck soon after stowing our hammocks and being fed, strict instructions being issued that not too many on one side as the ship could capsize!! A sea of men everywhere, no small piece of deck was vacant, and only the grey Mersey, grey sky, and crowds of grey clad men were in view.
There we stayed all day and other ships moored near, we were fed during the day and tried to wash with the salt water soap we were issue with, it didn’t foam and currently did not remove dirt, in fact it left a grey sort of coating on the hands which was difficult to remove, seems that life from now on going to contain logs of grey!!
And so to “bed” or do you say and so to hammock? only to be woken up feeling very sick and scrambled out of the hammock to find most others were doing the same and a rush to get on deck for some fresh air which may stop that horrible feeling. It was dawn a very grey dawn, and directly behind us was a very large grey ship, completely without modesty showing us her (it’s?) grey bottom as it lunged up and down, we likewise were playing silly buggers and this motion was no doubt the cause of our distress, in the distance could be seen other ships, some had things like broom sticks pointing about them and we presumed that they were to protect us, I like many other now wished that we could be torpedoed and sunk, they only relief in sight for that awful sinking feeling!
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That night, all the hammocks swung together as the ship rocked in the heavy seas and the rush by some people during the night to get to the “bogs” before they spewed up often ended just below me, perhaps it is no wonder that I spent as much time as I was allowed on deck away from the stench, but always got herded down when it got dark, the Atlantic was not a very pleasant place to be at that time apart from the gale that seemed to rage more each day, we were only too aware that U Boats would enjoy sinking a troop ship and the chances of being saved in that stormy water was about nil! It was cold and smelly in my hammock as we sailed out into the Atlantic Ocean.
The days passed and gradually we were able to take a small sip of tea a tiny crumb of bread without heaving it up straight away, as we and the other ships headed into the grey Atlantic, the clever ones amongst us saying that we were headed for America, others convinced we were going into the Med, and an even more knowledgeable bunch with a compass sure we were going south. The sea was empty but for our escort. Our convoy, being one with important cargo, a troop ship, was doubtless given a course away from the shorter more populated routes. We saw no planes escorting us or other ships other than our own convoy and escort. Some bits and bobs were sighted in the sea, just a few empty crates probably slung over board by any ship friend or foe going that way. Nothing else.
Funny things that stick in the memory after all these years, apart from the agony of sea-sickness which passed after about a week, was and still is the smell and taste of the bread loaves we were all given each day as part of our food ration. I had now recovered from sea sickness and was able to eat my share of the food on offer, what we were serves up I have no recollection apart from the small loaf of bread we were issued with each morning which had to do us for the rest of the day. Eat it when you like but you wont get any more until the next morning. It was the most enjoyable bread I have ever tasted, of course I had teeth then and was very hungry, as all young people are, but after so many years I can almost taste it in my memory!!
The grey has passed and the grey ships with guns, one of which was a battleship, left us as we entered Freetown, not the town you understand but the estuary leading to it. We called into Freetown after three weeks of utter misery. Freetown is on the west African coast, so it did look as if we might end up somewhere hot but where no one knew. Apart from one poor sod, one of our airmen though not from our mess, who had not stopped bringing up just bile for the last three weeks, no one from the troops got on shore. The lad who was taken ashore with seasickness that had lasted since leaving UK, was in a very bad way with dehydration.
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We moored away from the town itself and have no memory of other ships near us but guess they were there. We did not get ashore, not that it looked very inviting, mud huts and mud was all we could see moored out in the channel. After one day on a ship that actually stayed in one place horizontally we set sail again for parts unknown.
I developed a raging tooth ache and reported sick, the ships doctor showed me his equipment for treating tooth aches, it consisted of an armchair and a few rusty looking plier type instruments, said he hadn’t pulled out any teeth and which one hurt, showed him and tapped on the wrong one and told me to come back in the morning if it is still bothered me, funny thing the pain went away and only returned very many years later when all that was left was a hollow shell which crumbled to pieces when the dentist gripped it!!
Sailing away from Freetown the weather became much sunnier and it was now quite evident that south was the way we were going, the sea became less grey, but cannot remember the other ships, perhaps they no longer were showing their bottoms, flying fishes flew from our path dolphins rode our wash, and life became just about perfect, apart from the fact that the 10 shillings (about a dollar) I had boarded with was long gone (no pay until we arrived where ever we were going). I smoked a pipe but would smoke cigarettes as well and the only ones on offer free from my “room” mates were Springbok, a very strong South African fag oval in section and only given to me because those that had bought them felt sick after a few puffs. It is one of the other things that I remember after all these years, the horrible smell of the Springbok cigarettes, which was all I had to smoke the six weeks we were aboard. Perhaps in retrospect a good time to give up smoking you might say, but in those days they were issued free to some units and certainly the Salvo’s and other friends of the forces gave them out to all service men. The opiate of the masses it would appear!!
We got into smoother waters and the sun shone and most of the Navy escort left us, and there really is a sort of magic about the sea when you are far from land, suppose most of us got a good rest and were well fed for six weeks and enjoyed the days relaxing in the sun, watching the flying fish, dolphins and strange patches of seaweed, and of course we all had to be “welcomed” by King Neptune.
One thing about a troop ship there is no such thing as privacy, we slept close to one another, ate our food touching elbows, and washed and showered in sea water which does not get any dirty off only ingrains it further in the skin, even using the special soap that was provided. Toilets had to be increased and the solution on this ship was to construct on the top deck a trough about 30ft or 9 meters long and fix along this some 20 or so squares
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of wood with holes in, water was pumped in from the sea one end and ran over board out of the other, a very friendly loo indeed, the rocking of the ship was a worry some times when your next door neighbour’s evacuation born on a tidal wave came visiting!! To enliven an activity that was already fraught with some peril, people with a distorted sense of humour nailed a stub of candle to a piece of wood, lit the candle and then set it on its journey down stream to warm the posteriors and other appendages of the poor captive sufferers!!
We travelled south but then to confuse all and sundry we started to go north and with our very limited knowledge of where things were on the earth’s surface we were again lost, after six weeks of a war time sea cruise we entered the Port of Durban and once more were on dry land which to our consternation would not keep still and behaved much like the Mooltan had in Liverpool.
Perhaps it is not to be unexpected that most if not all were glad to get off the Mooltan after six weeks when she docked in Durban on the east coast of South Africa. The group I was with were taken from the ship to the rail and we began the last part of our journey to our final destination which was Bloemspruit R.A.F Pilot training station near Bloemfontein in the Orange Free State, where we were to keep the 104 Miles Master aircraft flying day and night. A much better job that I had been doing since leaving Halton.
The railway journey from Durban to Bloemfontein lasted one whole day but can’t say I remember anything at all about it, on arrival at 27 Air School about ten miles outside the city which is the capital of the Orange Free State we were shown to our barracks, decent brick buildings, single storey, with stable type spilt doors and the usual basic beds and lockers, but heaven after the ship. Food was so strange at first, lots of fruit most of which we had never seen or heard of and many different dishes made from maize, one like porridge called “mealie meal” served at breakfast I thought wasn’t too bad but soon learnt that the natives ate it so South African whites wouldn’t beneath their dignity. We had a lot to learn about the South African white way of life, to see the native workers on the flight line covered in oil and grease as they did the dirty jobs and then watch them fishing in the bins where we emptied the left overs from our plates, made us recent arrivals very angry, but we were told not to interfere, we were guests in the country and our ways were not the right way to treat these “savages”. If we offered them the “butts” left from our cigarettes they had to hold out both hands in case they had a knife in the other and would stab us, it did seem and still does to me that the white population went in fear of their lives and in many cases rightly so because they did treat the natives in a terrible way and at last the right thing has been done but the Dutch Boer has a lot to answer for. These Boers had an organisation based in the Orange Free State (think they
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now call it The Free State) that went about blowing up power lines and post offices and was very pro German know the name but my spelling of it will be far from correct (Osiver Brantvag) told you it was all wrong!! I made a number of friends while stationed at Bloemfontein, the Florie family for one, they picked me up at the bus stop when I had missed it one night and gave me a lift back to camp, he was an accountant and she was after a bit of ‘rough’ not 18 and dim as a Toch H lamp didn’t recognise the invitations handed out every time I stayed over night, frilly things always had been left on my bed by mistake, “I’ll just put them away, do you like them?” was only one of the things and her husband I’m sure thought I was giving her one, would have done if I hadn’t been so thick!! One night at their house they were having the usual meeting of the tennis club, very few blokes but lots of pretty young girls, suggested that they might like me to do some toast on the open fire for all of them, funny thing it wasn’t some thing they had ever done, so there I sat toasting slice after slice and spreading each with lots of butter, calls for more coming all the time, the family cat came to see what I was doing and I just spoke to it calling it “Pussy”, a deathly hush descended over the room and then a few stifled giggles and one of the chaps wanted to tell me some thing outside, pussy was the local name for that part of a girls body that men seem to want to get into so no more calling cats pussy.
Another person I got to know was Nabiha Masoud (think that’s how to spell it) she and her large family were all from Lebanon and would you believe classed as coloured, which is only one degree above black and not to be mixed with, the Florie family would have nothing to do with her even though she had her own ladies hairdressing business and good at it, tried to get me not to see her or her family, but apart from “Dad” the rest of her folks were very nice to me and always had a place at their table for me, Dad thought things were serious so didn’t want her getting involved with a Pom, we were in fact just good friends and perhaps I saw her just to say “up you” to the white population. There is a town called Margate down the coast from Durban and I did write to the Mayor who invited me to visit the town and be their guest, but never took up the offer. Dac Dacre was an ex Halton “Brat” like I was and we got on very well together, we arranged to take a leave together and as we could get a free railway pass decided to go to a place called Muizenburg this is a seaside holiday town on the shores of False Bay, we had booked into a YMCA hostel and spent our leave there but the train journey lasted all of two days and did get a bit boring after a while, miles and miles of very little followed but some more, had a look at Cape Town and little did we realise that not too many months would pass before we again found ourselves in the area, in fact in a transit camp between Muizenburg and Cape Town waiting to board ship back to England and flying over Germany as crews of bombers. My mother’s father had a brother who had moved to South Africa many years before and I managed to find them in a small town called Krugersdorp near Johannesburg, they invited
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me to stay with them on one of my leaves so I took the offer up and spent two weeks with them. Very interesting for me as my uncle had a building firm and I went about to see how things were done, one of the sons was an inspector of mines and arranged for me to go down a gold mine and also see all the processes of getting gold from the ore.
There are two reefs bearing gold in that area, called north and south, can’t remember which is which but one is very wide and is made up of very white quartz pebbles around which can be seen the glitter of gold flecks, the other reef is quite narrow and in places only inches wide but is very dark even black in colour and the gold can be seen quite easily as small nuggets. Both of these reefs go down into the ground at an angle so that new shafts are sunk to reach the reefs as they get deeper in the earth and further away from the original shaft, each new shaft being much deeper before it reaches the gold bearing ore. The very large heaps of brilliant white dust from the treatment plants can be seen for miles around Joh/burg and when the wind blows cause painful eyes and noses.
The mine I went down was very deep indeed and the lift travelled at such speed that one felt slightly air-borne as it descended the earth. The area at the bottom was huge and the passage ways leading off very large and well lit, as we moved away towards the mine face things got steadily hotter until we reached a place where a native was working a jack-hammer in a steeply sloping crack removing the small but very rich ore piece by piece, all jack-hammers also have a water pipe connected to prevent that miners curse of silicosis, so we had a very wet large black man working hard in a very narrow and hot space, he still was able to give me a big white toothy grin, but what he said I do not know, the noise of the hammer was terrible! After an hour or so of this we returned to the surface, glad of the fresh air and my shirt at least a chance to dry off from the high humidity underground. The first part we visited was the Stamp house, the noise here was unbelievable, row upon row of steel hammers pounding the ore as it slid beneath them washed down by streams of water, sheets of corduroy were used to catch any free gold after the stamps, these sheets were taken out periodically and burn to get the gold, the slurry then passed over copper sheets with mercury on them which also collected gold, not sure how or in which order this happened, it is a long time ago!! The slurry then entered very large tanks open at the top in which cyanide was dissolved in water (cyanide is a very deadly poison) the gold was dissolved by this mixture, this fluid was then pumped to a centrifuge where any remaining rock particles were extracted, the fluid which now looked like clean drinking water, but was far from it, was pumped again and ended up in mile long sheds which were full of troughs that contained hundreds of separate boxes filled with zinc shavings, as the liquid passed through the zinc the gold stuck to the zinc, and the next process melted the zinc shavings in a furnace which was then poured into an
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inverted cone shaped mold [sic], on cooling the cone was turned upside down, banged and out fell a very large cone of zinc with a small gold top, these gold knobs were cut off by hacksaw and tossed in one corner, when enough had been made, were themselves melted and poured into newspaper lined ingot moulds, lots of these bars of gold were stacked against the wall and I was invited to help myself if I could carry one away, tried but it flattened me to the floor and had to be lifted off me by the ever grinning black workers. The zinc was re-rolled into sheets and in one corner was being turned again into shavings on a very old lathe by the still grinning workers.
So far it would seem that all I did was visit and enjoy but this was a pilot training ‘drome, flying went on 24 hours a day and our days were spent servicing the 104 Miles Master ‘planes on the daily inspections. The Masters was made of wood and plywood, much like the Mosquito of later and much greater frame. The Miles Master was an advanced training aircraft that trained pilots in fast single engine ‘plane management before they became operational on Hurricanes or Spitfires. Mark 1 Masters were fitted with Rolls Royce Kestrel engines (fore runner of the Merlin) some of these were even equipped as fighters with four Browning guns during the panic of 1940, Mark 2 Masters had Pratt and Whitney Junior Twin Wasps.
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Servicing Miles Master Trainers at 27 Air School
With the many hours they were flown each day, some very hard landings and the general wear and tear of pupil pilot use they were becoming very hard to keep airworthy, even had one do a forced landing at a place called
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Dewetsdorp which ended up on it’s back. As I had spent some time in England salvaging Miles Masters I was in the gang that went to collect it, still have some photos of the job.
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Miles Master Recovery
The salvage crew was led by Sergeant “Jock” Brown and was made up of members of the flight servicing crews at 27 A/S. A Queen Mary low loader was not available nor was a crane which made the task more difficult, sheer legs being used to lift, turn and load the ‘plane. As far as I know the pilot did not die but would have needed to “duck” a lot from the amount of cockpit damage. As bad as the airplane was, great care was taken to salvage the ‘plane without further doing further damage. This took a great deal of work, including some careful maneuvering [sic] over a narrow bridge on the way back.
104 American Harvards were flown in and my mate Dac and myself were given the job of checking these and making them airworthy for use, they had been shipped to Durban as deck cargo, and although sealed before loading, some had had their canopies opened by the ship’s crew, salt water had entered and causes much damage, not only to things that could be seen but many radios had been ruined and props had been turned so that ports had opened, we found many that had damaged pistons on the con rods due to salt water no wonder the delivery pilots had complained that some were gutless and rattled a lot. I joined the Camp Concert Party and band, played the fool on the camp and Bloemfontein stage and played the trumpet very badly at camp dances, practised like mad but still caused the lead trumpeter to shake his head in disgust.
Notices were on the boards for aircrew volunteers, Dac and I were a bit fed up with our treatment regarding promotion, we did the work and other got the credit, funny it’s still the same fifty years later!! We put our names in and after various interviews were sent to Cape Town to await shipment back to England.
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– Reg Miles
The URL Of This Webpage is
http://www.geocities.com/Pentagon/Bunker/7797/Milesbio3.html
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Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S. of T. T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U.s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242 – 246 – 511
Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 4
Lympe, Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire
Unescorted fast ship Mauritania II brought us home in just two weeks. This was more like a holiday cruise, she was a large new fast ship, not over crowded, weather sunny, no real worries about the enemy, just too ignorant to have a care. And good food, all very pleasant!!
We came into port during the night, I suggest for security reasons. We would be confined below decks after dark so that no lights would be shone and any portholes on our decks would be welded shut. As we had no idea where we were it was only at dawn that we found ourselves suddenly in harbour.
We returned to a cold and rationed England, which was a bit of a shock after the land of plenty that was South Africa. I got to spend some time at home. Home was River outside Dover where Dad was responsible for building work for all the various Navy, Army and Airforce units stationed in and around the port of Dover.
After a couple of weeks I was posted to Lympne RAF Base near Folkstone in Kent, not too far away from home. I could cycle home on the odd day off. I was at a servicing echelon on Typhoons there from August 1943, making myself useful until the Flight Engineer course came through.
I arrived at this very basic airfield, grass runway, no hanger that I can recall, road to the village went through the place and we were living in requisioned [sic] houses on the floor, the Guardhouse miles away so we never booked out or in, just went! There I was fit, brown, and fairly knowledgeable, and there they were the service crews, lilly white, half starved, most hadn’t a clue about the RAF. The CO wanted me to stay, rather than take the flight engineer course. He did everything to make me, even tried to bribe me with promotion and an instructors course, turned him down flat, not the best way to make friends!!
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A few days later I watched as the flight sergeant in charge of the service crew was trying to unlock a propellor, up on the steps with a very, very large lead hammer and a long spanner thumping away to release the lock, told him it was the wrong rotation, what would I know?, the engine shaft sheered [sic] off and prop and F/S landed on the ground, another job now to remove the whole Napier Sabre and fit a new one, suppose the F/S got promoted and probably blamed me!!
The Typhoons were very heavy fast fighters. They were fitted with Napier Sabre H section sleeve valved 24 cylinder engines, had 20m/m cannon and rocket rails, and were hell to fly and worse to service. The engines were proto-types and only could do 20 hours or so between engine changes, never saw even one do that much while I was there, the single prop was the biggest in service and only cleared the ground when in flying position by 4 inches, many were bent on take off, and many came back from ops with bullet holes in as the ‘plane went faster than the bullets in a dive and caught up with it’s own fire!!
When I was working on Typhoons heard many yarns, but all “driversairframe” are a bit like fisher men I think. While the story teller was giving the the [sic] usual flyers tale, with lots of arm waving indicating who did what, even the other pilots had a “I don’t believe him” smiles on their faces.
The Typh’s were used as tank and train busters and also for downing V-1 Bombs and did a mighty job. Despite their success, some of the Typhoon pilots were very keen to improve the speed of the Typhoon so they could catch the enemy, be it pilotless V-1 Bombs, or piloted fighters. They were always wanting a few more miles an hour of them and “if only the bloody thing went faster I would have shot down” probably the whole German Airforce!! Adjustments to the engines were very difficult because they were so complicated and really just prototypes still. So they spent many hours with car polish rubbing and polishing every bit to reduce drag. They got us to help also, big things Typh’s and we got very tired of it. Guess they were like me, young and keen and a bit stupid as well, you’d have to be to risk life and limb for peanuts!!
Of course battle was not the only thing the pilots were keen on. The Typhoons were flown from a small grass runway. A sergeant’s mess party was being held one evening when I was on duty crew, we had to see the “dusk” patrol in and prepare them the “dawn” patrol, check everything and rearm and refuel and make sure every thing was as it should be. The small ‘drome was crowded visitors ‘planes from surrounding units and many were parked at the ends of the runway, fog was closing in and the last few of the dusk patrol had been told to divert to Manston, which was a very large aerodrome fitted with FIDO, by air it was seconds away by road it was
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too far to get a lift and still get to the party. All their mates would be there plus many of the local girls and if you didn’t turn up some one else would try their luck with your girl!! All managed to get back in, just one left to land, and here he comes he’s too low can’t see the row of ‘planes at the end of the runaway.
Yes he has but too late the massive undergear crashes through about six aircraft of all types and sizes and comes to earth with one wing low, the prop touches, that one won’t be on dawn patrol, as it taxi to our flight position where we are standing with torches to direct the pilot and hook the ‘plane to our tractor and tow it into position for the morning, the pilot climbs out, says “shit” and heads off for a shower and no doubt a bullet from the CO and even grounding if senior officers have had their ‘plane destroyed. We check the undergear to make sure it wont collapse as we tow it and generally check the damage, this takes a while and as we are doing this we hear the bell of the “blood wagon” in the distance, but too late for any injuries we say so I lay on the ground with one leg in the air and groan as the medical orderly rushes over, but it’s not the usual medical orderly it’s the senior medical officer, who wants to make a name for himself as all the top brass are on the base for the party. Well we didn’t part as friends I must say, but he really enjoyed chewing me out so perhaps that made his day!!
Arriving back at camp after a day with my parents, we slept in empty houses really outside the camp boundaries so no booking in or out, supposed to but why go a long way to the guard room if nobody cared, any how it was early in the morning, near midnight, not late at night as it should have been as I cycled to my billet, as I got off my bike the sergeant of my ground crew called for me to get moving and handed me a bucket of white paint. Our flight line was very close to our billet, and I was told to start painting wide white stripes under the wings of the Typhoons, other bods had black paint. So I crawled under them with buckets of white paint late at night in my best uniform. No idea where the Typhoons were off to, but we were told it was for identification purposes for an operation, but which one? It might have been coastal or near to it, and in support of either Commando’s or Navy, both tended to fire at all aircraft without any idea who flew what!! But why do it in the middle of the night with far from clever painters with large distemper brushes and I’m sure it was water based paint? On 15 November 1943, 2nd Tactical Air Force is formed, perhaps the Squadron I was on was made part of this force and some “stay in bed get the boys out” prat thought it would be nice if the new force were correctly dressed for Dawn Patrol. Whatever the reason for the early morning paint job, my best uniform was never quite the same, every one else had on their overalls!
As it turns out this was the first time that this type of identification was used on allied aircraft, and I Did It!!! These black and white stripes were
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called invasion stripes by others much later. They were widely in use for the Normandy invasion. They were painted to clearly show our ground forces that they were friendly aircraft so we would not lose aircraft to our own flak. Only the Tactiful [sic] Air Force had the invasion stripes. Well before the invasion some aircraft were painted with the stripes to be used as Targets for spotters and Anti aircraft units and also for ground troops to get familiar with our own planes, as marked. Apparently this Typhoon squadron was one of those painted early to get our troops used to the stripes.
I was stationed at Lympne until the end of 1943 when my posting came through to report at St Athan in South Wales to start my Flight Engineers training. Because of my training at Halton and my service work on aircraft my training would be specific to the type of bomber I would be doing my operations on, that was the plan anyhow.
It might be best to spend a moment reviewing the various RAF bombers. First there were the Medium Bombers. The Hampden, outdated before the war started so not used much – bit of a death trap so not to be included.
Bristol Blenheim private design as all decent ones are, Beaufort a torpedo version did lots of damage and raids on shipping in French ports, made the Germans angry. Beaufighter very fast version called “Whispering Death” also used as a night fighter with radar, all types with twin radial aircooled engines also by Bristol.
De Haviland Mosquito, best all round fighter, bomber etc of the war, just look up it’s stats and learn! 4000 lb bomb load, faster than any thing until the jets arrived, 42600 ft ceiling, used by the Master Bombers, fitted with 4 cannon and even with a single 57 m/m cannon. Don’t know what a Master bomber is? They first used Lancasters, would circle the target at a low height during all of the raid, and direct the “Pathfinders” where to drop more target markers, all this done at night of course and we would be called up as “main force” and directed which colour markers to use as an aiming point, and woe betide you if you came in from the wrong direction or dropped anywhere but the correct place. we were usually at 18000 to 20000 ft and could see the Master Bomber back lit by the bursting bombs almost as ground level, a number of back ups would be at our height and when, not if the master bomber was either hit by flak, or by a fighter or as was most likely had a load of bombs dropped on him, saw a Lancaster one time when we had to land away from base that had had a load of incendiaries land on it, not a pretty sight!! Master bomber two would have his own call sign and often with an accent to prevent the Gardens from giving us the wrong information, cunning devils!!
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Heavy bomber Wellington made by Vickers designed by Barnes Wallis (swing wing F1111, Dam busters bomb, and even the Avro York made from parts of the Lancaster) Twin engine geodetical construction, (all little bits joined together to make a net like effect, very strong) covered with fabric, front and rear turrets, two .303 Brownings in each 4,500 lb bomb load 300mph main stay of bombing until the large 4 engined bombers came along, still going strong at the end of the war, called The Wimpey by every one. very many versions from sea search with a lifeboat slung under, to mobile radar and radio station and I remember seeing one flying very low along the coast line with a large ring the size of it’s wing span detecting and blowing up magnetic sea mines.
Short Stirling the first 4 engine one, slow. low and designed by the Air Ministry with short wings so that it would go into the standard hanger, typical stupid desk riders. My log book contains some hours spent as F/E on one, a pretty useless bomber and not to be in the same class as the Halifax and Lancaster.
The Manchester was first operational about the same time as the Halifax but as we all know was plague by engine problems and was a “dead duck” until fitted with four Merlins, the Halifax was also supposed to get RR Vultures but because a shortage was expected was designed for four RR.
Handley Page Halifax 4 engined similar to the Lancaster never gets a mention much like the Hurricane is over shadowed by the Spitfire, but many thousands of them were flying and bombing Germany, while the Manchester was falling out of the sky with failing engines. Rolls Royce produced a 24 cylinder engine really based on two Merlins joined at the sump one upside down, it was only when the Manchester was modified to take four standard Merlins that it became the great aircraft it eventually did become. Both The Halifax and Lancaster had versions with Merlins and Hercules engines, the Halifax with Hercules was much better than the version with Merlins and the Lancaster was the reverse better with Merlins, More versions of the Lancaster were developed during the war and it’s construction was easier than the Halifax, but the Halifax was much tougher and took more punishment before crashing, I trained on and flew them all as an F/E, just wanted to get down in one piece so all were good for me!! 6,176 Halifax were built, their first operational flight took place March 1941.
Both Lancaster and Halifax had 4 .303 Brownings in the rear power turret, mid upper had 2 but had a full 360 rotation and up and down. Some later versions of the Lancaster had twin .5 Brownings in the rear turret, both Halifax and Lancaster had versions with mid under turrets with twin Brownings.
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The Lancaster did eventually drop 22,000 lb grand Slam bombs, called by some earthquake bombs as they were made of high quality steel typical bomb shape and were used to bomb things like bridges which are very hard to destroy, need a direct hit, theses bombs penetrated deep into the earth and shattered the foundations so that the bridge or viaduct collapsed. 7,377 Lancasters were built, their first operational flight took place on 3/4 March 1942.
So I started my training on four engined Lancaster Mark 2 bombers which were in every respect the same as all Lancasters except for the engines which were Bristol Hercules 14 cylinder air cooled radial, all other Lancasters had four Rolls Royce 12 cylinder water cooled twin 6 cyl. vee Merlin engines. Lancasters were the outcome of a design called the Manchester which originally had twin Rolls Royce X engines 24 cylinder X, really two Merlins coupled at the sumps making a cross of four banks of six, these engines were a completed failure and before I went to South Africa in 1941 had worked on one of the Manchesters that had crash landed in a field due to engine failure. A.V Roe (Avro) knew they had a good aircraft and as The Royal Airforce refused to allow them any engines, so scrounged 4 Merlins from Rolls Royce on the “old pals network” and re worked the ‘plane from two engines to four and demonstrated to the top brass what a good all round bomber they had, and so it proved to be in service, carrying heavier bombs farther and higher than any other ‘plane at that time.
I studied the Lancaster and it’s systems including the Hercules engines until I knew every part, hydraulic, air, auto pilot, bomb release gear, undercarriage, you name it I knew and passed with ease my examinations, so much of what I had been studying was what I had been working on for a couple of years, different ‘planes but basically the same in principle. St Athan is a very old and well known R.A.F. Station the R 101 and R100 airships were built there and a “ring” of one of them is fitted to the wall of the huge hanger they were built in, which still stood when I was there, anyone interested in these airships should get “Slide Rule” written by Neville Shute and learn some very interesting facts about these two airships, Neville Shute was an aircraft engineer and any of his fiction books are a good read, perhaps his most well known book was the basis for the film “A Town Like Alice”.
After passing out from the F/E course I was given a short leave and in March 1944 told to report to 1664 Heavy Conversion Unit at Dishforth in Yorkshire and it was there that I joined up with the rest of the crew who had until that time been flying twin engined aircraft. What aircraft did I see on the runway when I got there? Halifax Mark 2s and 5s different ‘planes and different engines so I had to start all over again on systems and bits!!!
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11.3.44, I had to do some initial training to see if I could handle things actually in the air, so it was circuits and landings with a senior Flight Engineer to see how I went. Well we took off OK and did a circuit and came straight in land again, with me operating the various undercarriage and flaps etc as the pilot asked and all was going well round and round until the bumpy air and round and round got to me and I felt sick as a dog after about an hour and asked the F/E if we could pack it up. He looked at me and said if you give in now you are off the course and can go back to your unit, well funny thing I suddenly felt better and got on with the rest of the job for another hour, after that I was always too busy to feel sick.
I have a log book of my time flying, and I include here the information in it from the flights I made as crew member, rather than as a passenger. This began here, with the 1664 HCU, 1664 Heavy Conversion Unit, which means it was heavy conversion unit from 2 to 4 engine aircraft.
Some of the terms on the Log Book shall require explaining. The Lat and Long at the top I have added recently when I bought MS World Atlas and was able to pin point the airfield locations. You will note the first column is the date to help you follow the sequence. This log book records all my flying both training, operational and at Transport Command. C&Ls circuits and landings very boring and mainly for the pilot and engineer to frighten them as much as possible, D.C.O. duty carried out D.N.C.O Duty Not carried out. P.O Lauzon was my first operational pilot, others mentioned on this first page and perhaps elsewhere were senior pilots who had done at least one tour of operations and were being rested before doing another tour of at least 30, all were very much more frightened of the ‘sprog’ pilot than of anything the Boche could throw at them!! PO is Pilot Officer and is really a rank to ensure that the person will not put up any ‘blacks’ and behave like an officer and a gentlemen, probationary period usually 6 moths. FO is not Flight Officer which is a female rank in the WAAF but Flying Officer. 25th Feb 1:32 E Easy was the aircraft that we normally flew when I was with 420 Sqdn, V Victor was our designated ‘plane when with 432 Sqdn, but as we were very new got what was available due to serviceability problems. Will get to each one as I go through my log book, which will be about 30 pages.
Pilot Officer Lauzon asked if I would like to join his crew. The rest were already joined as a crew. I was the last one to join being an RAF Flight Engineer, they needed me to shovel in the coal and to keep the boiler streaming!! As I knew nobody on the course happily agreed, soon realised that all crews belonged to The Royal Canadian Airforce so I had joined a bunch of people who I had no idea of their country or life style, some thing else to study, I was going to be a busy boy! The rest had trained on twin engine aircraft of some sort in Canada and were now ready for the big time.
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We were all very young with different back grounds and likes and dislikes, remember I was with the Canadians who were used to a much higher living standard, more independent than us down trodden POMS (from the Australian prisoners of His Majesty, convicts) So where they had quite a lot of money we did not, all the same Yanky pay, and the food parcels poured in from their families in Canada, when we had leave they went to certain places arranged for them or hit the “big smoke” and found some one to enjoy their pay with, I went home to a shell and bombed Dover, first thing Mum wanted was my ration book so should could feed me, one of my father’s sub contractors always called at our house soon after I got home and from the inside of his very dirty overalls gave me a Black Market parcel of butter, cheese and bacon. My crew always made sure I had some of their surplus food to take home, sugar and jam etc. I could not invite them to stay at my house, one reason was there was no room and another was that I had to have a special pass to even leave the railway station near home even though the local cop on duty knew me. The whole south coast was a restricted area all roads in were manned and high fences were all around so no use trying the fields, took one of my girl friends once, was only allowed to stay 12 hours and had to either send her back to London or both go somewhere else, went somewhere else!! My parents not too pleased but I was on a promise and determined to find out if it was as good as everyone was telling me, yes it was!
After being introduced to the rest of the gang, I got down to serious study learning about fuel systems, tank positions and the fuel transfer arrangements that allowed one tank to supply all engines and many compilations of this, very necessary if flack makes a hole in a fuel tank, need to use that one up first and tanks have to be balanced for the same reason during operations, loose a full tank and you wont have enough fuel to get back home again!! Engine controls are important too, boost and rpm govern the fuel consumption, and which supercharger gear ratio being used is also very critical.
A very brief explanation of boost, revs and supercharger gearing. Boost is the measure of pressure, plus or minus of the air in the induction system of an engine. When a piston sucks in air it increase it’s speed and therefore lowers it’s pressure below atmospheric pressure at ground level (14Ibs per square inch roughly) The more weight of air that can be crammed into a cylinder before it is fired the move power is produced. Hence turbo chargers and super chargers, turbo’s are driven by the exhaust gases, superchargers by gearing direct from the engine, as the aircraft flies higher the air gets less dense, and the power from the engine becomes less, turbo’s and supers pump more air in so that power is maintained, use of ground level increases the power from a given capacity of engine cylinders, an engine without a charger would always show a minus reading on the boost pressure guage [sic].
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The setting of the throttle (accelerator) governs the boost pressure coupled with the turbo or super charger speed setting, the two work together and then setting is done by the pilot or engineer for the conditions at the time (climbing, cruising, etc) components that are a part of the system automatically retain this boost pressure until either a height is reached where the air is so thin that it cannot do so, or changes are made to flight conditions. Revs are the speed at which the propellors go round and relate somewhat to the gearbox of a car, selection of speed is made and automatically kept at that speed by a unit on the engine and one in the propellor itself, bit like an automatic gear box on a car, changing conditions of flight such as taking off and landing require different propellor speeds and reacation [sic] of the flight conditions, feathering which rotates the blades so that they do not “windmill” in the event of an engine failure are also incorporated. Guess it’s not so simple after all and I used to teach this but had the advantage of being able to flap my arms about!!
My first flight with P/O Lauzon was on March 16, 1944 and was Exercise 7&8 in my log book. Exercise 7&8 I have no idea but only took about one and a half hours so not very important I should say.
Our next exercise was the next day, the 17th, and was Local Bombing. This was a training exercise for the crew but mainly for the bomb aimer and pilot to get their co-ordination working together so that the target is hit. Small practice bombs used but sometimes larger ones full of concrete may be dropped.
The next night I was up with another pilot, Fry, for Circuits and Landing exercises again. More night training.
The next morning I was called to fly with yet another pilot, Vinish, for a Sea Search. VINISH is correct, think I wrote “finish” and got a sharp reminder! Sea Search was a very serious matter that was to see us spend all those hours searching a particular part of the ocean with other crews looking for a downed ‘plane, a hell of a strain on the eyes, the sun shining on the moving waves makes it very hard to see anything properly so things are reported that are not there and other things missed, and no we did not see anything.
You will note that I took off at 10:15 am flew for nearly six hours and then took off again the same day with a different pilot at 20:20 being tested on night C&Ls for about 4.30 hrs and that is only the time in the air, lots goes on before and after!!
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Then it was back to P/O Lauzon for two flights in one day, the 20th. Two and a half hours of Local Bombing in the morning then a six and a half hour Night Cross Country exercise.
Apart from actually flying and being checked by a senior Flight Engineer to find out if I could do my job properly, our navigator had to give me instruction on star charts, which star was where and how to use the sextant to take star shots while flying to help in navigation, the F/E position was beneath the astro-drome and it was another of his jobs to do star shots if and when the navigator needed them, the correct star had to be found and a timed shot taken to give an average reading, the wrong star could make life difficult and I can tell you the ‘plane bumping about, nasty people trying to shoot you down didn’t make finding the right star in amongst the millions out there easy.
During this course we also had to take instruction in escape technic’s [sic] both from the aircraft and the enemy, we went to a swimming pool and in full flying gear jumped in the water and tried to turn over an up turned dingy we managed, but could not see it being possible at night in a rough cold North Sea, we all treated it as a bit of a laugh, young and foolish in hind sight.
Our next flight, on the 24th March 1944 at 18:45, our crew did it’s first night operation over France as a diversionary raid to fool the Germans into sending fighters up to intercept what appeared a bomber force approaching targets in their country. This Bullseye Mission was a number of training aircraft that were sent in a direction different than the proper bombers, hoping this would direct enemy fighters away from the real bombers. This diversionary raid turned back before any target was reached and hopefully before any of the inexperienced crews were shot down!! The 1/3 shown on the log was a third of a point awarded towards the total of thirty points needed for a complete tour of operations. “Bullseyes” only counted as one third of an operation. The missions was six long hours wandering about over enemy territory before landing back at base with eyes very sore with looking for enemy fighters that never appeared.
Another course we had to attend was escape after being shot down, this was carried out by senior NCO’s of the Army at a special camp on the Yorkshire Moors, a cold and bleak place, with our instructors determined to show those “Brylcreem boys” what tough meant, we were marched and run about all day, all ranks, some quite senior officers going back on operations for their third tour, were made to wear overalls at all times with no badges of rank and shouted at as if we were new recruits in the Army. Escape training was carried out at night without any warning, doors were slammed no lights put on and we had to get into our overalls and get outside, loaded
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into trucks half asleep, and driven out on to the moors, dropped off in twos with a map, not told where we were and left to find our own way back to camp, the local police, army and the courses just finishing came out looking for us and if found we were arrested and help in jail until sent back to camp. The Canadians were very much anti authority, (much like the Australians I now live with) so nothing was sacred, buses were found in back yards and driven near to camp with lots of aircrew hidden under seats, some stayed out for days being fed and “watered” by lonely wives whose husbands were in the Forces, and said they have got lost and were tired and hungry, some did look as if they had been working very hard and needed a rest. This was our last training in the Heavy Conversion Course.
The fact that this was our last flight was a coincidence. Bulls Eye was not a graduation ceremony. If one was wanted by the higher ups and you had reached a level of training able to do it you went, the needs of the service were what governed what and where you went.
I had completed training and was graded on my performance in the course. Exam result is 73.5% That was based on my flying with instructors and theory of the aircraft systems at HCU 1664, not wonderful but remember I did do a theory and practicle [sic] course just prior to arriving at HCU on the Lancaster Mark II, different ‘plane with entirely different engines, so apart from crewing up with a bunch of wild Canadians, I had less than two weeks to learn all about a new ‘plane and it’s engines, not bad for yours truly. The results of my examination were signed officially by the Flight Engineer Flight Leader, a flight of men can be any number that can be controlled or over seen, a flight of aircraft also can be any number that is suitable for the type, 3 bombers being usual, more for fighters, a number of flight make a squadron, a number squadrons make a wing, a number of wings make a Group and a number of groups make a command as in Bomber Command. Got all that? So the Flight Leader responsible for a number of Flight Engineers under training, signed to say that I had reached a standard whereby I could be expected to do do [sic] my job properly. All trades of air crew had Flight Leaders, Navigator, Gunners, Wireless operator, Bomb aimer, and lets not forget the driver Leader for the Drivers airplane!!
This all ended in due course and our crew were given a posting to 432 Sqdn RCAF at Eastmoor who were equipped with Halifax Mark 3, same engines as Lancaster 2s and much better version of the Halifax’s at Dishforth, so all that study had paid off in the end!! My flying time with Squadron 432 are covered in those pages of my Log.
The RCAF was called 6 Group part of Bomber Command, most airfields had two Squadrons based on it, each was controlled by its own staff and did not always fly to the same targets nor even on the same days of nights.
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Usually the same nation were located at each base, so you had two Canadian Squadrons where I was, 420 and 425 at Tholthorpe as an example with my next unit. I just can’t remember which squadron was at Eastmoor with 432, the Lancaster book I mentioned before gives all the squadrons and I will just look to see which Squadron was at Eastmoor with 432 when they were with Lancasters. Doesn’t help, my book shows an HCU at the same base but that was to covert 432 from Wellingtons I think on to Lancaster II, they then changed to Halifax III just before I joined, need the same sort of book for the Halifax which I don’t have and maybe no one has! To continue both these squadrons, and 432 as well, were part of 6 Group. Each squadron was divided into flights the number I cannot remember nor can I recall how many ‘planes in each flight. I would recommend to you that you beg borrow, steal or even in extreme circumstances purchase a book called The Lancaster Story by Peter Jacobs it is distributed in the USA by Sterling Publishing CO Inc 387 Park Avenue South, New York it’s ISBN is 1 85409 288 8 it is a very fine book and gives much detail of the history and operational types of Lancasters I was given the book by one of Phyllis’s brothers and treasure it greatly.
We flew out of Eastmoor airfield. The airfields were just that, fields, hangers and other buildings had been erected, but I visited some many many years later and just the concrete runway was still there most had been removed for scrap and given back to the farmers, local drag car clubs still use some of them and guess those farmer with ‘planes of their own could land and take off on them. Although I do not recall the details of Eastmoor, I have read that the Standard Airfield design for heavy bombers was to have a main runway 2000 yds, and two secondary runways at about 60 degrees to one another of 1400 yds.
A fence had been errected [sic] around the perimeter and RAF Police patrolled this to keep strangers out, but guess if you really wanted in it would have been easy, gun positions were manned by RAF Regiment people with mainly light guns and fixed posts with bofors. The local towns were in the main villages, been there for centuries still using the roads that the Romans built, a village hall, for all the functions so a trip to one on a dance night would see all the lonely ladies out in force and us being the local best thing since sliced bread were over whelmed with attention, take your pick and hope her husband is not near!!!
Two crew slept in each nissen hut so no need to shout for quiet more like a moan about someones socks which were “humming”, don’t ever remember noise being a problem, none of us played craps or other gambling games like the Americans, guess compared to them our lives were a bit like “The vicar’s tea party”! There were no other ‘normal working hours’ type people in our huts so no problem.
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Life on the Bases 432 and 420 was the usual things. We played horse shoes, pool. I even had to have lessons from the wireless operator on the morse code and key. Buses were laid on to the local villages for the dances which were not all that popular, not too many lovely ladies there!! The odd trip into York but much the same old thing into the pub a few beers and away before the usual fights started between the armies of the Allies. Only those that had not fought anywhere had to prove how wonderful they were, just idiots, bit like the rubbish on earth today. nuf said!!
We didn’t have any “hours” as such when bomber crews, we were expected to be available 24 hours a day , but if “stood down” officially for a number of hours usually until next morning could go out of camp and be back in by 23.59, the usual time for late return from a night on the town.
Stations Order were posted on the various notice boards which would give times of lectures , and other places we had to be, one such was the visit to our camp by the Prime Minister of Canada, we had to line up to be inspected, not to bull parade more like a casual couple of lines of airmen of all ranks chatting away until he got near and spoke to some one, unfortunately the first three or four he spoke to and asked “Where are you from in Canada” were all RAF and not RCAF so when he got London, Yorkshire etc was a bit puzzled, one of the officers took him by the elbow and steered him in the right direction. We all wore RCAF brevets for our aircrew trade so not easy for him to know who was who, on my squadron only the Flight Engineers were RAF the rest all Canadians. The Canadians had a saying that I have just remembered, “Joe for King, home by Christmas” Joe was Stalin and King was the name of the Canadian Prime Minister.
So to recap, we were pretty free to do as we wished most of the time, and I like most others only read any notice board if we thought we were getting promoted, and left all that stuff to our pilot, who knew before we did when and where we were flying etc. That is why I got in such a muddle over my Officer’s interview, mentioned elsewhere I think you will find, just never bothered to read the notice boards!!!
Our missions were at first all night operations. As such I shall have to educate you about night and day in England, Winters starts about October/November and goes on until February/March, some visitors swear it never stops and is winter all year, but the important thing is that in these northern climes daylight ends very early and starts late so a man working a normal day starting at 8am and finishing 4-5 pm will always travel in pitch darkness to and from work. Taking off in darkness at 18.00 hours is no different from taking off even later. Darkness from say 7pm to 7am is 12 hours and we did not have bombers that could last that long and where would they have
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bombed anyhow? Hope that helps, just to take a random looking in the log book 6-10-44 15.45 take off to Dortmund all listed as night flying. Remember England is not too far from the Arctic Circle where 6 months of days and the 6 months of nights happens all the time!! At times we would land fairly early in the evening, but for another random look 15.9.44 22.00 to Keil 5.35 meant we got back to base about 3.30 am debriefing meal etc bed by about 5am, no early night that one.
If there had been a large night force out on a target say a 1000 bomber raid not every place was at the target at the same time, enough problems spread out, guess it would have been chaos otherwise so a raid would start soon after dark and continue until close on dawn when the day bombers took over.
April fools day found me acting as F/E to our Flight leader, Flight Lt. Cooper, doing circuits and landings at night for more than two hours to again check my skills, followed a few days later on the 4th with the whole crew doing the same thing. We passed this ok so now had to do a daylight cross-county to make sure we could go and come back!! The next day, the 8th, we did another “Bullseye”, this one 3 hours 35 minutes long, but were told they didn’t count towards points for a tour!
On the squadron you only got points for what you did operationally. While I am talking about a TOUR, it was a walk in the sun eyeing up the Canadian WAAFs, all who were very pretty and carried about a ton of makeup on their faces, my Canadian crew thought it wonderful, I thought they looked like a bunch of clowns Hey Ho. A TOUR was a certain number of operations 30 being the average but based on targets and what the service wanted so some did more and some did less I did 36, wanted to do more so that my crew could finish with the same F/E, as I had done some ops before joining them, I didn’t say anything to my Flight Engineer Leader but when he found out I had done more than I should have, he stopped me and sent me to get my new uniform as an officer!!! But that was yet to come of course.
On April 10th we flew our first operation, to Ghent, Belgium. The ops to Ghent was in all probability a German ammunition dump, a guess.
The raid is on so after a quick trip to the mess hall for a preflight meal it’s back to the barracks to put on my flight gear which is really only to dispense with the collar and tie, pull on the very large white woollen rollneck sweater under my normal working uniform top, pull on my flying boots and zip them up (keep hoping that the latest ones will be issued to us, these are impossible to walk in, made of foam and suede with long uppers lined inside with sheep skin, they certainly keep the feet and legs warn [sic] but after a few
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uses tend to lose their shape and “become down at heel” the latest ones are made from black leather as proper shoes and the leg portion can be removed by cutting the top off with the small knife hidden inside, more suitable for aircrew to walk away from the enemy after bailing out.
Down to the parachute section with the rest of the crew and draw my chest type chute and harness. On one operation we were told that ALL squadron parachutes had been repacked, a rumour had been circulating that a chute had had it’s rip cord pulled by mistake and all that fell out was an old blanket!! Parachute silk was much sought after during the war to make the “gift wrapping” that men looked for when their girls took their outer clothes off. We always poked a finger into the corner of the case to feel if there was silk (nylon?) inside.
Time to board the truck to take us out to the aircraft, as we called at each dispersal point calls of “race you back” and some not quite so pleasant were made to those climbing out, at last we were at our ‘plane, tumble out and grab our bits and bobs, I had in addition to my chute and harness a tool bag with a few spanners, pliers, bits of useful wire, string etc, other had large bags with the navigation and wireless bumf, and the tails gunner probably had a brick or lump of old iron.
We all climbed aboard to put our things in a position we could grab them if needed, my chute went on the floor in my position, as did my tool box, then I fitted my chute harness on making sure it was tight and properly fastened. down to the tail to remove the elevator lock and start doing my normal checks before we started the four engines, I had an aircraft log sheet to fill in, with what fuel was in which tank, and as soon as we started engines, all their details must be entered., by this time we had all settled in and a quick call was made to check that all intercom positions answered.
Halifax crew positions were spread throughout the aircraft. The bomb aimer’s position was in the nose where he map read if possible our mark of Halifax had no nose gun, it was found that fighters did not attack head on at night, various design changes took place during the war as needed so some had nose guns and some not. Then there was a blackout curtain, behind which was the navigator, then the wireless operator, all these at a lower level than the pilot, wop more or less under the pilot’s feet, up a bit the Pilot and behind him the Flight Engineer, who darted about as required. Then there was the mid upper turret and then tail turret. The Halifax had bomb bays in the fuselage behind the f/e position but beneath the floor but could be got at through panels if needed in the case of a hang up, also bomb bays were situated in the wings between the inboard engines and fuselage.
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In the cockpit where the pilot was were all the throttles, under carriage and flap controls, and the usual flying instruments. My position was also in the cockpit, where I would access the various contrls [sic] and dials needed to keep the plane flying properly. Only on very rare occasions did I have to help my pilots and that was if we had lost an engine and then only on landing. Once when a tyre burst as we touched down did he want a bit of muscle to keep it straight other than that managed without what seemed any effort. The Halifax position for the flight engineer was right behind the pilot, with my instruments, fuel, oil water pressures and temps etc on a rear partition, levers etc to change fuel tanks was either side behind the main wing spar. I had no resting place, no chair, so what I was only the engineer!! If a crash landing was going to be done all the crew expect the pilot could make themselves a safe spot by clinging together behind the main wing spar, so that was no worry, in a crash I would be as well off as the rest.
I was able to stand upright at my F/E position, and also when I assisted the pilot, think I could stand upright at the mid upper gunner’s position but needed to bend my back as I got near the tail, The inside was not pained as such, but from memory was a dark green in colour, probably the anti corrosion coating applied to Duralumin, Alclad and Aluminium sheets used to fabricate the ‘planes. The step up to my F/E position was about 9 inches, underneath was stored the oxygen supply for the whole aircraft, but I could still stand erect with my whole 68 and bit inches of height (the bit is much more important than the preceding 68 for those of us who are in a neat and compact package) I was able to turn round with relative ease, the space being sufficient for my needs, no windows of any kind apart from the roof astro-drome, the cockpit did have sliding windows both sides as well as a windscreen which was a great help to us, to see our way!!!, Both wireless operator and navigator had windows (non opening) complete with blinds for night work, there was also a large curtain between these positions and the bomb aimer nose, which was completely made of perspex in the Mark III version I flew in on operations, as far as I can remember we could all stand upright in the nose section where the nav and wop had seat with tables for their equipment. far from being cramped we all has as much room as we would require, not enough to hold a dance or even a large party but we could all move about with relative ease and reach anything needed to do our job. The fuselage looking back from my position which was just forward of the main spar, was really empty except for the mild upper gunner’s position, his lower body and feet only projected down about half way, with room to pass either side of him, we didn’t have the open side gun positions used in the forts.
During this time we had gradually crept up to the runway threshold and were now awaiting the green from the Aldis lamp, I had left my position to stand next to my pilot at the top of the steps landing down the wop,
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nav, and bomb positions, ready to hold the throttles open as we charged down the runway and to assist in any way wanted, I had already told the skipper that all engines were running Ok and so we set forth to battle.
The tail came up and we reached our “unstick speed” (whatever that was !!) the whole aircraft was shuddering with the effort of leaving the ground, a few skips off the concrete and we were airborne, time to take a breath, it had stopped completely as the trees bordering the ‘drome had got closer and closer, we once arrived back with bits of branches still caught in the undergear, and a failure of only one engine at that time with a full bomb and fuel load meant the end. Up with the undercarriage reduce the flap angle and set the throttles for climbing, synchronise the propellers, fill in the log book, reduce again the flap angle, check engine temps and pressures, change gills to get the temps right, stepping in and out and up to the pilot to do as he wanted, breathing heavily into the oxygen mask, which always smelt of rubber and rust and wet with condensation. I had to keep mine on to receive instructions from the skipper but most of the other crew could leave theirs unfastened until we climbed higher and went on to oxygen.
Back into my cubby hole, standing looking up out of the astro dome to see if we were in danger of climbing into some one else, all clear, down to the top of the steps to pile up the window and pamphlets that I would start to put down the chute later on, check all the engine details again, at every change of engine revs and at a regular period (think it was 15 minutes but not sure the log had to be filled in, a cardboard rotary calculator was used to work out what fuel had been used at certain revs and boost to check what fuel was left in each tank, the gauges were only a very rough guide!!
Not exactly a “Jack in the box” but I always took my job seriously and did all I could to ensure my side of things ran like clockwork, no guesses keep checking and worrying until home again safe and sound.
We had arrived at the altitude we were to fly at and engine revs and boost were reset, oxygen had been switched on at about the same time high speed had been selected on the supercharger for each engine, about 11,000 to 12,000 ft.
The navigator would tell the skipper at what time and which compass bearing he should be on to set course not for the target but the first of the course changes, and so with the constant roar of four engines, our little world of icy cold draughts, a lethal cargo, shuddering rocking in the streams of air from those in front, with many staring eyes looking for any others who might be near us in the black sky, seven young men went about their duty as they saw it.
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It was cold, it was apparently dangerous, if you worried about not getting back you probably wouldn’t, those that were frightened all the time were the real heroes, most of us just did it and were glad to be doing something to save our civilisation, not that we ever know just how bad things were or what a terrible bunch the leaders of the enemy were.
Yes I was a bit frightened on our first operation, but the ones that I always felt sorry for were the gunners. The pilot and engineer could see what was happening but were also very busy not only with flying the plane, but I had to record all the engine and fuel tank details plus other odds and sods. The navigator and wireless operator were shut up in their places with little to see from a small window and were themselves busy with their bits and bobs. The bomb aimer was in all probability stretched out full length looking at the sights below waiting to do his bit and telling us what he could see to help us avoid others and ensure we got where we were supposed to go. But the gunners isolated in their turrets had only themselves to talk to and fear can become a self promoting thing. Being busy kept me from being too frightened to do my job properly, and I can honestly say that I never really felt fear just a bit of apprehension on some operations, but more of that later.
There was no way to tell if we hit the target, not unless we were told so later. Most times, as here, we were not the first on target, it was all organised on “waves” so the thing was usually well alight or just a ploughed field by the time we got there. What we added to this was difficult to say or see from our altitude. The bomb aimer would see all the ground targets and perhaps what happened when the bombs landed. I was busy with my jobs and searching the sky above to help the gunners, didn’t really see a great deal. Sorry I am not able to give you a graffic [sic] picture of bombs falling and targets blowing up, Hollywood might but they live in a dream world anyhow!!
When we returned from our first operation, we were told the mission was only worth one third of a point!
We did not fly again for a week and then only flew a cross country exercise. On the 18th we flew an op to Paris. Ah Paris!!! Do you really think it was lit up??? All we saw were the flashes of bombs going off and the crash and flash of anti aircraft shells trying to get us. Every target we went to sent up flak, the Germans seemed to really hate us I wonder why? Until we started daylight operations we only saw what was lit up by our bombs and must say we didn’t hang about looking at the sights.
A five hour mission. How can it take five hours to fly to Paris you ask? The time taken to get to a target does not indicate how far it was, to confuse
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the enemy bomber tracks were deliberately set out as if a certain target were that night’s one when in actual fact we went elsewhere so the navigator did not have a period of nothing to do but was always calculating when and where to turn onto the next part of the course, gaining or losing time if necessary to arrive on target at the correct time, and checking on drift from winds not as per listed, and adding anything in his log that was of use to others, such as new flak sites. We never flew directly to any target nor flew home the same way, always many twists and turns to fool the enemy, those that chose the easy way home often didn’t get there, we followed the plan as set out by our squadron commanders, in our case it worked!!
Again, only one third of a point for some reason. Two nights later, on the 20th, we went to Lens, Belgium on an operation for which we were given one third of a point again!! I can’t seem to remember any reaction to this grudging point system, good boys did as we were told!! Funny thing is that most of us never really worried about reaching the end of a tour, the mateship of the crew was more important, ie just look at my and others search for old mates we flew with, can’t afford in most cases to get really together but nice to hold hands at a distance!!
On 22 April 1944 we went to the Ruhr Valley, known by all bomber crews as Happy Valley, solid flack from end to end.
Flak was present not just over the target of course. There were flak sites all about, and even flak ships. flak ships were in fact ships moored off the Enemy coast and were very bad medicine for anyone foolish enough to fly over them, guess being cooped up in a ship and see sick some of the time made the crew mad as they were very accurate and fast with reloading. Flak ships were well documented and only the crews with poor navigators or ‘planes in trouble ever went near then, we saw but kept well away!!
A slight shuffle off course, there were many flak towers of our own situated in the Thames estuary which were just as lethal as the ships, some years after the war and many years from now took one of my boys out to one in the first runabout I built, pretty massive things and I took a couple of photos to prove we had been there, our boating friends all turned back halfway and chickened out!!
Back to Happy Valley, the flak was heavy. Dusseldorf was a very serious affair, bits of red hot flak flew about inside the ‘plane as the shells burst, our navigator got hit but fortunately right on the torch in his May [sic] West (flotation vest), made him grunt a bit but he was Ok to get us home again. I had to check all manner of bits that got damaged, seem to remember the fuel control levers, about ten of them got damaged and it was a nightmare of a lottery which bit of frayed wire controlled which tank, but guess I must have
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done the right thing because we got home!! Just remember all this is being done in more or less pitch black darkness with the “driver” dodging flak burst and weaving about for the gunners, none of it calculated to appeal to the faint hearted!! But I wanted to get home as well and could have been on a promise from my latest girl friend, what more incentive could a guy have? Over Dusseldorf we were hit by flack. We returned safely. This was a full point towards our 30 needed.
On the 24th Karlsruhe was the target, and Essen on the 26th, back to France on the 27th to Montzen one whole point for this one, but on the 30th again over France to Somain and back to 1/3 point no idea why.
My log book for April lists 40.15 hrs operational, total 56.05. It is signed by Squadron Leader (rank about Flight Lieutenant shown as F/L and S/L) Officer Commanding (OC) “B” Flight This Officer was in overall control of all LEADERS for that flight of a number of aircraft and men to fly them, The ranks when I was in the RAF were Pilot officer, Flying Officer, Flight Lieutenant, Squadron Leader, Wing Commander, Group Captain, won’t bother with the rest, but the rank did not signal the position held visa vi aircraft operations as these ranks applied also to medical, religious, cook house and all other branches concerned with the RAF so a clerk could be a Squadron Leader if an officer, got it? BUT no non-flying type ever got to be incharge [sic] of operational people, want a riot do you? Unless you had pilot’s wings, very few other crew members ever made it to high rank, had to be a “driver” to get to the top. and so it should be I say!! Driver a term used by non drivers to put them in their place at times of getting about themselves, like chatting up your girl or not standing their round at the bar!!
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Underlined] F/E Reg Miles [/underlined]
May started with an air to air fighter affil. A Fighter Affil was us in a Halifax or Lancaster bombers in daylight practicing avoiding a fighter and a fighter doing the same to us, or should I say trying to us down (in
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theory we hope) camera guns used, good fun if you like sick making dives and climbs, as Flight Engineer the only one of the crew in constant free fall, all others belted in and the pilot having a real fun time as he tries to make the slow bomber do things never designed for it!! Hope that tells you what fighter affil was, never tried it at night guess not too many would land again in one piece, with 19-20 year old boys doing wheelies in the sky with permission of the 24-25 year old bosses!! But this one we didn’t finish due to the weather. Heavy cloud moved in and the exercise was D.N.C.O duty not carried out! My Log book will show by each notation D.C.O. or D.N.C.O. DCO is Duty Carried Out, DNCO has a not in it!!!
In fact May was a bad month only two ops. The first was to France at Le Clipon. I note that on the night of the 19.5.44 ops Le Clipon that there is a small red note 15x500 could be what bombs we took!! The second mission in May was to France as well, to Mont Couple for a grand total for the month of 2/3 of a point. Most of the time was spent night flying about England doing more training.
A recent TV show about drugs, reminds me of something during my service, which many people may not know happened. On at least two occasions we were drugged!! Not too sure which ones it was but, you see we weren’t ever told what was being planned or cancelled, just called up to do a raid. Once we were pulled out of bed to do a raid and given pills to keep us awake, the raid was then cancelled after we had climbed aboard out planes, we were then given more pills to make us sleep. No idea what the pills were or even if they worked!!!
The second of June started much as May with an op to Neufchatel in France for another one third point, and on the 12th six days after D Day, Les Lauzon and I were marshalling V Victor from our dispersal to the main runway, as I unlocked the elevators by pulling out the large pin something slipped and my hand was trapped and very badly cut, I had to be taken to the hospital, sewn up, bandaged and my arm put in a sling. No possibility of my going on the op so a spare F/E was called up in my place.
Later that night after some pain killers and a rest I heard the 432 ‘planes returning and went down to the Ops room where all returning crews had to call in and give our statement of events, what we saw, if we could give any details of aircraft shot down, and all the details that would help to decide if the target had been hit. When the Station Adjutant saw me he had a fit, my mother had just been sent a telegram to say I was missing on operations, my crew had been shot down and would not be returning.
This was a great shock to me. It would also be a shock to my parents. and as it was now just after 8 o/clock in the morning knew that my
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Dad would be at work in his office on the docks at Dover, gave the Adjutant the number and was put through in record time, told Dad I was ok and would explain the details when I saw him.
Each crew shared a nissen hut with another crew, not a happy situation when the other crew went missing, but the padre or one of his staff quickly gathered all the stuff up and it was sorted out by one of the squadron officers to send to the parents, anything not nice was removed. I was lucky my stuff was not sent before I managed to let them know I was still on camp!!
Nothing for me to do on the base so home I went on the next train from York to Dover. Trains, now that is something that you should all enjoy, no Air Raid Wardens, the guard just turned off all lights when an air raid warning was sounded, if a tunnel was near the train would go in there, but we are only talking about trains near the coastal regions, hit and run raids were the ones that tried to get trains, trucks etc but that soon stopped when the RAF squadrons became equipped with plenty of fighters to scare the low fliers away, happened to me a couple of times on my way to Dover on leave but really not a worry, worse things happen at sea we always said. Train travel was dirty, uncomfortable, long delays, overcrowded with troops and all there [sic] gear going about the country, only very rarely would a seat be available and soon given up to the lass with a baby on board or in arms, the corridors solid from end to end, tired people going back from leave and even more tired people going home for a spell away from war, but in some cases going into more war if their home was in the south, not that the north escaped bombing raids but it continued for longer in the south in fact almost to the day war ended, V1s and V2s almost to the end. After I was made an officer I travelled first class, now that was good if I had a travel warrant, not so hot if I had to pay for it, lot of rubbish I thought but must do as I am told like a good boy.
I arrived just after eight the next morning and phoned Dad from the Railway Station, he picked me up and took me home, Mum was at the local corner shop and post office, all the staff knew me and also knew about the telegram.
I did not notice a great deal about the Normandy build up, the landing happening on the 6th. We flew over the south of England on our night operations and sometimes were on our way home at dawn we would see the build up. As I usually spent time with my father in the Dover docks while on leave would have seen what was going on. But remember Dover was always very busy and some parts were off limits to every one, any double decker buses used on that part of the coast had all the top windows locked and pained on the outside black so no view of what was happening about the place.
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D Day itself, however, must have come and gone without me noticing it. A bit like V Day and J Day. I was in all probability flying somewhere, or coming from somewhere by car, train, boat, or foot, just never registered, but see years later the crowds in London celebrating, guess they were lucky to be there at that time.
Being home with a wound, I thought I would have some luck with the local girls if I spun the yarn that I had swum the English Channel with one hand, didn’t work out that way because a couple of days later I had a big lump behind my ear and a raging headache, high temperature and not a well boy at all. Dad took me to the closest Military Hospital which was in fact at Dover Castle (built by William the Conquer 1066), beneath which miles of tunnels had been cut and a large and modern hospital installed, I was told that I had an infected scalp, the poison was draining into a gland behind my ear and would take a while to heal, perhaps brought on by a combination of shock from my injured hand and the loss of my crew, a close bond exists when people depend on each other for their survival and air crew had a very close bond. I was taken by ambulance to an old country mansion up the valley a few miles inland from Dover, this was on or about the 10-12 June 1944, no medicine was available to treat my condition, just aspirin for the pain and high temperature, I lay in bed staring through the large windows hoping for sleep and return to health and wondering what had happened to my crew, night time was the worst, nursing staff all asleep upstairs and every one else snoring their heads off.
Then to make matters worse the Germans started sending over Flying Bombs on the night of the 13-14 June and every night and day after that, these pilot-less aircraft had a rocket type motor which had a pulse mechanism that gave them a strange but most recognisable noise, when the noise stopped they just fell out of the sky and the one ton of explosives made a nasty mess of anything underneath. They were programmed to fly up the valley where I was laying sick in bed and on the opposite hills from my bed were 20 and 40m/m quick firing guns, which of course fired at each and every one they saw or thought they did. I swear they were firing straight at me and thought it very unfair that after putting up with Jerry firing his guns at me now my own side were doing the same!
After the war there was a newspaper article showing the location of all Doodle Bug strikes in Kent. I still have a copy, and it is copied elswhere [sic] on this CD.
I was in that hospital for more than a week until one afternoon the doctor seemed to think I was ripe and cut into this lumps behind my ear and out popped a golf ball sized ball that looked like wound up white wool, all pain went and the wound soon healed up,.
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A few days at home to get my strength up and I was told to report to 420 Sqdn RCAF at Tholthorpe in Yorkshire, where I was crewed up with Jim Tease as pilot and the usual other members of E easy, they had lost their F/E somehow can’t remember now why, but they were a nice bunch and as I had done a few more trips than them, was an old hand!!
One such trip they made without me Jim has only recently told me of. On the 25th of July 44, Jim relates, we started for Stuttgard with over-load petrol tanks in the wing bomb bays, and the fuel lines were plugged so we could not get the fuel from them into the main tanks, so we had an early return. He then says “think you were the F/E but book says Naish”. His Book is correct.
The new crew to which I was assigned was as follows. Jim Tease Pilot, Bridgeman Bombardier, Nicklen Navigator and best man at my wedding!, Baker Wireless Operator, Vaughan Gunner, and Yack Gunner. Our ground crew were LACs Jones, Milne, Parker, Smith and Sgt Berry. All were RCAF.
When I was stationed with 420 Snowy Owl RCAF Squadron our motto was ‘pugnamus finitum’ which translated mean (so I’m told) ‘We fight to the finish’, now my long time RAF mate, (Halton, South Africa etc) arrived on the companion Squadron at Tholthorpe, good looking always got the pretty girl, 425 Alouette RCAF Squadron motto ‘Je te Plumerai’ “I shall pluck you” how appropriate for a French Canadian outfit, the re-write by all and sundry is painfully obvious, even more so for my mate Darce, got through the war OK but lost touch in 1947 and just hope he is still doing what he always did best!!
Our first op together was on the night of 28th July to Hamburg in Germany, the port inner lost all of it’s oil over the target, flack put a hole in a pipe so we returned on three engines and for some reason it wouldn’t feather so that was added drag but we made it back in one piece, and all felt good that one was over.
On the night of the 31st we were over Deuf-en-Ternois and had a slight argument with an ME109 we both tried to get into firing position and the Jerry pilot realised that he might come off worse if he didn’t go away which he suddenly did, we were happy to see him go!! We again had problems which meant we couldn’t return to base but had to land at Skipton an emergency aerodrome equipped with FIDO.
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Landing away from home usually would be on a FIDO drome. Once landed, our ‘plane would be towed clear of the runway and dumped for us to sort out in daylight, we would get our heads down wherever we could and as it was often nearly dawn by the time we had sorted out our problems we would get some more fuel get the fans fixed and fly back to base, where we would then be de-briefed have a meal and either get some kip or get ready for the next one.
August 3rd daylight to Foret-de-Nieppe in France target an ammunition dump. Flying at night we all went our way and took no notice of friend or foe unless forced to, by daylight the powers that be decided we should fly in, and practice formation, all very good for them that always get lost or need to hold hands, not us we know where to go and what time we should be there so get out of the way and follows us if you like!!!
Perhaps I should try to relive the first daylight raid I went on, that would have been 3:8:44 Foret-de-Nieppe. I mentioned before that as far as flak we never had a free ride, well the flak this first daylight one is well remembered.
It seemed all very strange at first to be able to see what we were doing, not having to squint with hardly any illumination to read gauges and find things by touch alone, so a bit like a holiday as we set “sail” to our target. All our friends around us, not I hasten to add in formation, but at time close enough to be able to recognise some and even give them a wave as we passed close. We of course were heading in the correct direction for the target, where some of the others were off to we did not know, kites flying off all over the place, and yet at night we all arrived where we should be, but how we missed one another in the dark is a mystery. Thinking about it, all the navigators were in their little cubicles without reference to what was happening outside and were working out their own headings taking into account the wind directions and the aircraft speed, so were doing their own plans to get to the target on time, bit like modern motorists taking different roads to get to their work places on time. Any how the skipper and I looked at the mess of planes going every which way and remarked that some of them must be mad, not us we knew where we we [sic] going. Gradually things sorted themselves out and a few of us were going in roughly the same direction, not all at the same height I might add but you can’t have everything can you? As the holiday spirit continued we saw some of our ‘planes cross our path and joined us, where they had been no one knew, but we had a gaggle of bombers heading towards the target. Crossed the coast of England and could see the French coast coming up, no need for the bomb aimer to tell the skipper and I but the navigator would welcome the information and the fact that we were not alone anymore!!
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“Ten minutes to target” came through the inter com from the navigator and as was usual a heading for the skipper to take as soon as we had dropped our bombs, often a lot of noise over the target so best to get our escape route sorted before going in.
And there was the target the first wave had been in and were on their way home again, but it was impossible to get to the target, one solid mass of bursting flak, not enough room between the bursts for even a small ‘plane let alone a bomber. The skipper and I stared through the windscreen, we did not say anything but guess he felt as I did that this was going to be one hell of a trip, the holiday was over that was for sure.!! The bomb aimer was crouched over the bomb sight giving directions, only the skipper and I could see what was in front of us but in we went and all was suddenly revealed to us what we could see were the shells that had burst, the ones to worry about were the ones that were on their way up, not quite back to the holiday spirit, but survival was now possible, the great puffs of stinking smoke were swept aside as we juddered from near misses and kept on course to our dropping point, a quick look around the sky showed our friends doing what we were doing and guess we weren’t the only ones to have had a bit of a fright at our first daylight op.
Daylight operations were less stressful then night missions I would say over all, though we didn’t know about stress then. We could see what we were doing as we took off and every one in the crew could do their job without trying to see with a very dim light, the wop and nav could even see outside through their windows, not having previosly [sic] seen the bursting flak, and burning ‘planes, the first time in daylight may have been rather a shock for them!!! For our pilot I’m sure it made life just a little easier, taking off in the dark with a full load, not able to see where you were on the runway or how close to the end and it’s obstructions you were, for me it was a strain but for him trying to physically lift the beast into the air must have been a constant worry, and landing back in the light at base where he could see all the other circling ‘planes, the runway not a shadow but there in all it’s concrete glory was much easier than trying to figure out where everything on the ground was and where he was in relation to other unseen aircraft. I suppose both kind of operations had their good and bad points, at night you crept into the target like a black cat in a black room, unseen you hoped but concerned with contact with both fighters and your own friends, navigation difficult because of lack of ground sighting, landing and taking off harder, even taxing to a dispersal difficult at times. In daylight everything could be seen even you over the target so no hiding in clouds, just fly in and drop the bombs and get out again, not sure which I preferred, if you survived all were good!!
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We had fighters flying with us to keep the enemy ones away, so just a little of the holiday spirit came back, but on future ones we had the sight of bombers falling to the flak, my most vivid one was seeing a Flying Fortress some miles away have a wing shot off and counting the parachutes that came out as the ‘plane tumbled over and over and eventually disappear through the clouds. But for this trip there was none of that, and later it was very nice to see all the other squadrons from the many ‘dromes in our part of the world circling their airfields to go into land, some had a few bits hanging off them, and I suppose some had injured aboard, but home was near at hand a mug of coffee well laced with rum and one more to enter in the log book as DCO.
August 4th daylight again to France a pilot less plane storage dump at Boiss-de-Cassair. These were the V-1 Rockets, or Doodle Bugs as they were called. All we could see of the target was really only a gap in the forest with the ramp for the doodle bug to be fired up for launching, and the rest of the site was hidden in the trees,. I guess the local French Resistance would have sent the information by wireless of the location. Afterwards, not much to see when a number of bombers have dropped a few tons of bombs on a target. We used 500lb and 1000lb bombs on these sort of targets. Not too sure what our maximum bomb load for the Halibag would be but must have been at least 6 ton, but please don’t quote me! The area looked like a very poorly ploughed field after we had gone.
Regarding Bomb Loads this what Jim Tease, our pilot, has in his log book and I feel he is correct in what states. “We made many trips with 16x 500lb bombs, others were 9x 1000lb + 4x500lb. only one trip with a 2000lb + incendiaries, no record of taking a 4000lb believe the bomb doors would not fully close on a Halifax if one was loaded, bombs and petrol load would depend on the target and it’s distance from base”.
August the 5th daylight yet again to France this time ammunition stored in caves at St-D’Esserent. As usual there was no way for us to know if our bombs hit the target, whether we exploded the ammo dumps inside their caves or not. The explosions caused by our bombs 500, 1000, 2000, 4000, bombs going off do tend to make a lot of smoke and fireworks so unless we were on the ground hard to tell our bombs exploding from the enemy ammo or target going up, we did sometimes get a report days later from our briefing officer to say “well done target gone”.
It is a bit hard for me to explain about what was saw on the ground both in England and over the enemy, you see when I was flying passengers in Avro Yorks, from UK to other parts of the world, one of the first things passengers used to say as well climbed up to 8000 ft our cruising height was “Oh look the sun is shining” they didn’t seem to understand that it always is!!
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The highest we ever bombed at was 24,500ft all crew members with paddles going like crazy!! But that is still well over the cloud layer. Because that part of the world is more often than not shrouded in cloud people forget that above the clouds there is always sunshine. So you see most times we were over cloud, never saw a completely cloud free sky.
August 7th night operation to bomb Tanks and artillery in the German line at La-Hougue. You will note that August was a very busy month, nearly every day we were out either day or night, can be a bit confusing to remember what and where we went, guess one target is much like another, lots of flak, bits of hot stuff flying about just ajumble in the memory, one thing that does stay vivid and I really can’t be sure just when it happened or which target it was, only know it was at night and could have been in August. I think it was this mission to La-Hougue.
We took off on a very dark and rainy night and were told that the cloud and rain would clear just as we got to the target, we seem to have started our night flights very late at that time. Well we climbed to our cruising height and were in thick storm clouds, listening hitting us and rain very heavy, the whole aircraft glowed with static electricity and large rain drop slid along the radio wires like illuminated ping pong balls, to burst as they hit the fins and rudders, the ride was very bumpy and the skipper and I tried going up or down to get clear of all this storm without any luck, just before the target was reached we flew into bright moonlight, bombed and returned within minutes into what looked like a solid black wall from ground to the sky and flew in this muck all the way home, I see we landed at Tilstock on Fido one night so perhaps that was the night, have a vague feeling that we were one of the very few who made it to the target that night.
August 8th Daylight to France to bomb oil storage dump at Foret-de-Chantilly. On the way home from this mission, or perhaps one of the other daylight missions, an enemy fighter came toward us. The Germans, however, seemed as cautious as my crew was. There were plenty of targets in the sky for the fighters so why risk getting shot at if you could creep up on a crew too lazy to do their job properly. So when this fighter approached us in daylight our gunners gave him a warning burst at a distance and he just turned away. However we watched as he dived straight on another ‘place about a couple of miles away and shot it down. That crew had not been alert and did not see him coming. We were all on our way home, but the time to relax was on the ground not in the sky.
August 9th night operation to Foret-de-Nieppe to bomb ammunition dumps. What does this mean, you might ask? Was it like they show in films? Like most people I often view WW2 films on the box and have
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always wondered which war the markers were intending to show, certainly not the one played a little part in. You see when a bomber is shown being attacked by fighters or anti aircraft fire there always seems a lot of shouting and the intercom is full of talk, not on any bomber I flew in, or passenger one either.
So let me go through what I and the crew did. On the ground we were the usual young, bugger about, chase the girls, have a drink etc boys, but once in the ‘plane that all changed and the pilot, skipper or skip as he was known was boss, not in any heavy handed way but no task was started without his ok and all functions were reported to him.
So he and I marshalled the aircraft in a position allocated to us for that night’s raid on the perimeter track leading to the runway in use, there we left it while a last meal was had, briefing concluded, and we as a completed crew were then taken by truck to our ‘plane. The Canadian Salvation Army called at each ‘plane as we waited to board, handing out cigarettes and chocolate, and a last fumble in the layers of clothes was made to get rid of any urine likely to cause pain, no toilets on our “kites”.
A green light was shone from the small caravan parked at the end of the runway to tell us it was time to climb abroad, this caravan was painted in large black and white squares, a Perspex roof blister was used to signal to the crews and need less to say it was towed away before we started to land back after our raid, with the way some of us landed it would not have lasted very long in one piece likewise the occupants!!
Each one of the crew settled into their place and checked that all was ok with their bits and bobs, the pilot would then call each position in turn (not by the persons name but what position they occupied, ie rear gunner, navigator, etc) and each crew member would reply along the lines of “OK SKIPPER” I was often left to last and was given the order to start engines when my turn came, after all we running satisfactory, I would log the start time and all pressures and temperatures etc, the navigator would no doubt make a note in his log of this time also, when our aircraft letter was flashed from the control caravan we would taxi onto the runway, I would select what angle of flaps the skipper wanted, set take off boost and hold the throttles behind his hand to ensure we stayed straight along the runway. As we climbed up I would only raise the undercarriage and flaps as he ordered, setting climbing revs and boost as he wanted, and would without any order synchronise the engine revs on each side so that the propeller blades did not rotate in respect to one another. If we were one of the first in our squadron to take off we would gradually climb to the operation height and circle the ‘drome until all our aircraft were present, not that we could see much on a dark night but we had a set time to “set course for the target”.
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During the climb and setting course for the target one very important job was the charging and locking of the Hydraulic accumulator, this was an emergency charge of hydraulic fluid which would be enough to lower the undergear and even the flaps if we were lucky, should damage to the engine which drove the pump or the system itself be damaged. Was just a large cylinder connected to the hydraulic system filled with air (what this was pressured to I have forgotten only 56 or so years ago so sue me for having a bad memory) fluid was let into this cylinder and charged to a certain pressure (sue me) and the cock turned off so the fluid was held under pressure by the air also in the cylinder, in an emergency the undercarriage would be set to ‘lower’ and this cock turned on and hopefully this stored fluid would lower the gear, Got all that? Phyll just read the first part I sent and was rather surprised that I could still know what to do but not sure if the RAF would still require my service!! Back to the plot!!
As we reached about 12000ft I would change the supercharger speed to high, make sure all the crew were on oxygen, and fill in all the details in my log these included petrol consumption and which tanks I was using, I always tried to have an equal amount of fuel in each tank by the time we reached our target so that should a tank be punctured we only lost a small amount of petrol, but each time I changed tanks permission was asked from the skipper and he was informed when I had done it.
There we are drifting along trying to make sure we didn’t bump into any of our own ‘planes in the dark sky, all lights were at dim, mine to fill in my log was at a glimmer when wanted, all the pilot’s instruments lights very low and the blackout curtain between the bomb aimer’s position and the navigator and WOP very tightly fastened, both working with minimum lights. And it got cold, the gunners and bomb aimer had heated suits but even they felt it, as for the navigator his hands were too cold at times to hold a pencil and asked the Skip if I could direct hot air down to his position, The skip and I already partly frozen but to get there and back we needed to know which way so hot air it was and some of our bits that might be wanted in more pleasant times went into cold storage.
There was no chatter between crew members, and if someone left their mic on by mistake he was soon reminded of the fact, young as we all were I am reminded of very professional we were, perhaps that is why we survived to tell our tales!
This professionalism was needed. One night we had a Halifax with a mid under turret, not a standard feature in earlier models, and a gunner was added to our crew to man it. The gunner we were landed with saw more enemy fighters in the 6 or so hours we were airborne than I think were
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available to the Germans at any time during the war. This excitability was not helpful. We go rid of the mid under and that gunner.
Why we survived and others didn’t was because we took notice of the experts (those pilots and crews who had done it lots of time) you don’t fly straight and level thinking of nothing much, but weave and bank slightly so that the gunners get an all round view of things, there is no blind spot under the tail if you stay awake. No need for a lower turret to fill that blind spot then.
I can only speak for myself but guess all the crew were feeling as I was, and that was that our navigator would take us there and back, our gunners would spot the attacking aircraft in time and either shoot it down or scare it off, our pilot was second to none and would steer us through whatever came our way, our radio operator would get a fix, receive a message, and let us know what was happening, our bomb aimer would always hit the target, and I would keep the old girl in the air until we got home safely again. So there was no need for lots of chatter we all did our jobs and depended on the others to do theirs.
The navigator would sometimes ask the skipper if I could do a star shot for him, over my position I had an astro dome, would unload the sextant from it’s case hang it from the hook, wind up the clockwork 2 minute time and after I had found whichever star was wanted tell the skipper and of course the navigator I was ready when they were, the navigator would tell me when to start and I would press the trigger and try to keep the star in the mirror., at the end of the two minutes a reading of the average of all my shots would come up on a panel which I would give to the navigator, on the ground I had been averaging 2 to 3 miles, not as good in flight but handy if other navigating items were not up to scratch.
The bomb aimer was in the nose during the flight and gave what information he could to the skipper but the navigator also heard it and it would be something like this “Coast coming up skip” “crossing the coast now”. Now we were over enemy territory.
Details of flack ships and sites seen in action would be reported much the same, no panic just facts. The gunners would report fighters positions and would not fire unless ordered to. We were told that on some nights our fighters would be in the “stream” so gunners watch out for them, and they would circle the German dromes to shoot down any fighters taking off or landing, the Germans did that to our bombers early in the war but as we got air superiority it was our turn to be the nasty ones. Still, Fighters of any type all were enemy until they proved otherwise. Very few of either nation came
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near us. In most cases the fighters saw we were a threat to them and went elsewhere.
Although there was sufficient ammunition for whatever may occur, our own use was very minimal and mainly used to test fire the guns soon after airborne, our job was to deliver bombs and drop them hopefully at the right place, which we seem to do most of the time.
One night standing in the astro dome doing my bit of searching the sky I looked up and saw a FW 190 almost within touching reach just above me, would not have been 10 feet away. I told the skipper and of course the gunners wanted to have a go, but as the skipper said we are supposed to be bombing and will just slide away but if we see one the way back shoot the bastard down. The FW covered the sky, was flying quite close and not much faster than we were, no doubt we could have given it a very sore bum. But the skipper rightly said no, could have all gone wrong anyway, maybe his mate was close at hand and while we blazed away at one, another could have had us who knows?
Remember that this is flying in darkness. We had radar, but not for seeing other planes. We used radar in a thing called H2S, shows as a small bulge under the fuselage of bombers, used to show a map of the ground and useful for bombing on nights with full cloud cover. Radar, good if you are a fighter but what good would it do us, never switch any radar on even H2S unless needed, gives out a signal for the enemy to follow and get you, switch it off and use the mark 1 eye balls.
There were very many different anti fighter systems used, these names are all either tail warning devices (which caused more trouble that they were worth) special aircraft with German speaking radio operators who would tune into the German fighter directors and give conflicting directions, The Germans would do as we did and use people with distinct dialects to stop this, microphones were installed in the engine bays and this sound would be sent out on the fighter wave lengths to stop the information from being received. Gee was a navigation aid using three or more radio beacons and a special receiver, window you know about but many different versions of Radar were used to block fighters, G-H, Oboe, Serrate, Monica, ABC, Corona, and many names I either never knew or have forgotten were all warning devices fitted near the tail to warn rear gunners of the approach of night fighters, I suppose some lives were saved until the Germans had a crashed ‘plane to work on and then it was just the reverse, switch it on and get caught! All of this electronics, if on board for this mission, would be in use or ready for use while we moved towards our target through the night sky.
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The navigator would also tell the pilot that it was time to start “window” and at what rate, another of my jobs, as was the dispatch of leaflets to inform the enemy that it was time to give in, why didn’t I ever keep some??? So you have a very noisy ‘plane with not much chatter going on all the crew going about their jobs quietly, checking with the skipper if required and all hearing what was being done to keep us safe.
The view from the cockpit at night was minimal, the occasional flare of a bursting shell which changed to continuos [sic] bursts as we got near the target or passed near flak sites, the halfseen shapes of other bombers or fighters with muffled flames from their exhausts, from the astro-drome on a clear night, the dark blue inverted bowl of the sky pierced with a multitude of twinkling lights, but these often shaded by the dark shadows of friend and foe as they passed by.
Dark nights and heavy clouds were the norm, rain and lightening greeted us most times, eyes strained to see what was not there, but ready to give a warning of any contacts either friend or foe.
A master radar controlled searchlight may catch us and very soon we were “coned” no panic, every one closed one eye to retain night vision, and either the bomb aimer or the rear gunner would give the pilot instructions about the best way to get out of it, usually to dive down the master one and do very sudden sharp turns to one side, always got out before any real damage was done, and never ever thought we wouldn’t!!
Now we were nearing the target and the ‘plane jumped about as we flew through the wake of our bombers ahead of us, on a thousand bomber raid at night over the one target things get a bit hairy. Some of the sudden jumps are not ‘plane wakes but the burst of anti aircraft shells trying to send us down, but at night you see the flash, hear the rattle of splinters, check that all is well with the crew and our ‘plane and just carry on. The navigator would tell the skipper than it was say 5 minutes to target, the bomb aimer would have set his bomb sight to drop the bombs in a certain pattern, we had wing and fuselage bomb bays, and with the right pattern the pilots had an easier task to control the ‘plane as it lost it’s load, a 2000Ib ‘cookie’ really gave us a quick lift when let go, I can imagine that some of the Lancasters that carried and dropped 12000Ib and larger “earthquake bombs” really hit the heights when relieved of their parcels!
Now all eyes were searching the sky even harder than they had been, searchlights were weaving their way across the sky, catching a plane which was lit up and looked just like a moth around a lamp, sometime they slid out of the light, some time they suddenly flashed into extinction, and some
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times the flashing of guns was seen as a fighter chanced his luck amongst the bursting anti aircraft and was answered by the bomber gunners.
The flashing of bursting bombs, rattle and crash of anti aircraft shells bursting, searchlights sweeping the sky and settling on some lone ‘plane to be followed by the stream of incendiary bullets, all make the hearts of the night bomber crews halt for just a fraction as they go about the job of beating the foe into submission. Hearts once young and tender soon become hardened to this show of defiance, but not to the sudden eruption of flames at their height as one of their own is hit and spirals to destruction, “bastards” comes through the intercom from all quarters and the empty bottles, bricks and old iron brought for this occasion are pushed out of gun turrets and down flare and ‘window’ chutes, the rage is personal you can’t do this to ours is the feeling.
All in all over the target it was quite a busy place to be and we still had to reach the aiming point drop our bombs and beat a hasty retreat. Each plane that was hit was reported and logged by the navigator, new anti aircraft gun sites logged, ‘window’ and leaflets pouring out the chute, bomb doors opened and from the bomb aimer ‘steady, left steady left steady hold it hold it and the magic BOMBS GONE, bomb door closed, new course from the navigator and turn for home, but still aware that his was perhaps the most dangerous time, many crews relaxed and never got home. So search the sky dodged the ack ack and searchlights, perhaps put on a bit of speed by dropping a few thousand feet, and again that most welcome call from the bomb aimer still in the nose ‘coast coming up, crossing the coast’ and now I could eat my bit of chocolate, and just ease a little.
The wireless operator would be giving weather and other information to both the skipper and the navigator, as the navigator and wop sat next to one another many messages were passed by notes to and fro, but one that sent shivers through us was
“Intruders reported over the ‘drome skip” not often but meant we could not relax even when we arrived back at base, never got caught, guess our night fighters got up and sorted things for us. So on a normal return to base we were greeted by the interlocking rings of lights from all the multitude of bomber bases in Yorkshire, and each one flashed it’s own recognition red light to welcome it’s pigeons home, no radio silence now as there was prior to take off, call in make our letter E EASY and given a height and position in the queue, and as we were called down and moved up in the queue sometimes had to loose our turn to one of ours with dead and wounded on board, or no fuel left or any one of the things that happen to planes that will go out searching for trouble, down we go and I stand by the pilot and do all the actions in reverse, undercarriage, flaps and so on, all the others are
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strapped in but not me I just stand next to our pilot and help him as and when wanted, down we go another perfect landing and taxi to our dispersal, the crew climb out to wet the grass again while the skipper and I switch off everything, lock the brakes and controls, and make our own way to a quick piss, climb in the waiting truck and head for debriefing.
Now we would give our version of events while we are handed a large mug of coffee liberally laced with rum. Here we report the sighting of the sudden eruption of flames at our height, which we knew to be one of our own being hit and destroyed – the sighting that sent us to throwing junk down at the enemy. But at de-briefing, we were told it was on a “Scarecrow” shot up by the enemy to make us afraid. But it didn’t, it made us mad and nothing the briefing officer could say convinced us that it wasn’t one of ours failing to their death. So was the whole thing counter-productive by both sides, we just got mad not scared, so the enemy lost that one and we never really knew if there were such things as “Scarecrows” just kept heaving out the junk.!!
After debriefing, we hand in our parachutes, and head for a meal and bed. Our ground crew would be busy checking E Easy for faults, some I will have reported on landing to them, the camera film will be taken from the bomb sight and on it’s way to processing, and a hush will settle on this and many airfields while the weary rest for the next effort, but usually woken up by the roar of engines being tested for the next one.
The next one was August 12th, a daylight run again to France. The target this time was Foret-de-Mont Richard, more ammunition dumps.
August 18th Night to France to bomb the Railway Marshalling Yards at Connatre. must again had a problem because we landed at Skellingthorpe, returning to base the next day.
August 27th daylight to France to bomb a construction site at Marquise – Minoyecques being built to launch flying bombs on London.
I must add details of my selection interview by a senior RAF officer for a commission, My Flight commander had asked me to put in for a commission and when I failed to do so, gave me a direct order, sat me down and made me fill in all the forms, I just forgot all about it and rather than play the usual games that Canadian Air Crew used to while away the hours between operations of horse shoes, billiards and pool, I managed to convince the Station Engineering Officer to supply me with a hut, tools, bench, and a worn out Hercules engine. This I proceeded to take to pieces and section so that every one who was interested could see the inside of a very complicated sleeve valve engine, and perhaps treat them with just a
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little more respect! I would check with my pilot each day if we were flying and if not cycle out to my hut which was away from the main area and certainly not in range of the public address speakers. So I happily worked on my own getting my clothes well covered in oil and the aluminium dust from the sawing and filing which clung to everything this mean that I had to wear really old uniforms when working and must say that after a few hours in my hut did not look too special! A breathless Flight Sergeant burst in through the door and shouted with the little breath he had left ”Your name Miles?” When I replied yes it was, told me that that public address (Tannoy) had been calling for me for some hours to report to Head Quarter for my interview with Air Commodore. Said I would go back to my barrack room to change “No you won’t, I’ve been looking for you all morning and you go there now” Didn’t want to be an officer anyhow so who cares, arrived at Head Quarters on my cycle to be met by yet another Flight Sergeant, if anything more angry than the first, “Don’t you read Daily order Miles” I walked into the waiting room to find all other applicants polished and shining in their best uniforms, sat in rows like birds on a fence, my own make said “Hard luck Reg” Before I could answer yet another Flight Sergeant with great glee said “Miles you’re next” So In I went to stand in front of the table behind which sat My Squadron Wing Commander, The Base Group Captain, My Flight Leader and the imposing figure of the Air Commodore. Their eyes were all focused on the notes they were making about the previous applicant as I saluted and stated my name rank and service number. Eyes were raised and a look of horror passed over the faces of each one as they looked at this dirty silver speckled scruffy airman. The Air Commodore asked why I had not appeared when called before and how had I got into this condition. It seemed to me that only the truth would do and so I related my story of the engine I was working on and said how sorry I was that I had caused so much trouble. The Air Commodore asked each of the other officers if they were aware of my efforts and no one did, “ring the Engineering Officer and check while we question Miles” he confirmed my story and said I was doing a good job and hoped it would be finished before I left the Squadron. While this was going on The Air Commodore and I were chatting away about my service history and how far I had got with the engine, finally he said “I shall be pleased to welcome you into the Officer’s Mess in a few weeks time, we need more people like you who just get on and do things” So I walked out head high through the waiting room and said to all and sundry “I’ve got mine good luck to you”
Quite a busy month trying to help our ground troops push their way through France. I have not mentioned the training flights also carried out between operations, so that apart from the odd break we were flying most days and nights. My crew and I must have had some leave during the first week of September because my flight record for that month is a training flight on the 9th and a note that I had had some more practise at flying a Halifax,
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we only had one pilot on board and that was Jim Tease so if he got injured or killed who would fly us home? That left only me who did at least know how things worked but as I had no flying training on small aircraft it was very difficult to manage something so big and slow to react to the controls, alter the angle of the control column and it seemed ages before anything happened so learners always over correct and you end up with a ride like a fair ground switch back, I practiced whenever I was able always in daylight and most time on the return flight from an operation, tried a few times landing on clouds, more forgiving than the ground, think I could have got back to England ok but landing without a crash I’m not so sure!!
Back to France in daylight to bomb a German strong point at Le Havre on September 10th. I seem to remember that we were one of the last on target and all that could be seen were bomb holes on top of bomb holes, The RAF and American Air Force had complete air superiority so we had only flack to contend with and that could be very accurate because the Germans use Radar tracking.
September 11th daylight to Germany, to the dreaded Ruhr Valley, to bomb a synthetic oil plant at Castro-Rauxel. Our height for this drop, based on the aiming point photo, was 16,500’, and our bomb load was 16 500lb bombs. We hit it smack on and our photo showed that, still have my copy given to us, and we were given a guided tour of 6 Group Bomber Command in recognition of our skill.
The tour we had of 6 Group Bomber command was more for the Canadian guys, so they could oggle the Canadian girls, told you before I was not impressed so just saw lots of lush offices and big boards with meaning less maps and figures on them. Waste of time I thought but the rest of the crew liked it so that was OK.
September 13th again to Germany in daylight to bomb the railway marshalling yards in Osnabruck, I have a note that it went well so presume the target was destroyed, daylight targets were a bit scary after night ones but soon got used to it and at least we could see what we were aiming at and whether we had been right on target.
September 15th A night raid on the shipping port of Keil in Germany, this was a 500 bomber operation, we were coned by about six radar controlled searchlights on the approach to Keil, with German night fighter hanging about out of the cones, all had to keep at least one eye closed as the light was very bright and if we managed to get out of them the fighters would pounce as we would all be blind, Jimmy Tease handled the bomber like a fighter diving and side slipping all over the place even at one time diving down one of the lights, and got us out, we were however hit by flack
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over the target and the perspex nose fell right off, Red Bridgeman the bomb aimer had to hold the black out curtains between his position and Nick Nicklen our navigator while I wired them together, Red had to stand with his feet over nothing all the way home to hold the curtain against the howling gale that came in, Nicks charts had all ended up down the fuselage mixed up with the bundles of window that I was pushing down the window chute.
These were sorted out and Nick went on with his job of guiding us home, from my notes looks as though we or some of our Squadron hit the target so a good prang was noted.
I do remember this next mission, a daylight raid on one of those massive guns built into the ground with a barrel hundreds of feet long pointed at London. This was September 17th. The target was in France at Boulogne, our height in my log is noted as 2000ft. 2000ft is very low for bombing could get damaged by the bombs in front of you going off especially in slow old things like Halis – Lancs. This was the only low level bombing I ever went on!!! Although we would bomb from 2,000 feet, we flew down from base in Yorkshire at about 8,000 feet. This was a good cruising height for our aircraft, as we passed over many cities, towns, airfields, hills, barrage balloons, tall chimneys, and other obstructions for low level craft.
When we got to the English coast lowered our undercarriage and flaps pulled back the throttles and dived down to 2,000 ft over the channel. The lowering of flaps, undergear and reducing engine revs helped us to quickly reduce our height, the channel is only a bit over 20 miles wide not a lot of distance to get a great old lumbering kite down low and level out and on course to give the bomb aimer a chance to fund the target.
The dive over the channel was to get us down to 2,000ft quickly, at the low height we were certain to hit the rather small target and not the surrounding empty fields or buildings. We also had to have time to make the approach without crowding other aircraft. We had to watch out for ‘planes all round us because, at this altitude, if we were too close to one in front we could get our ‘plane damaged by a bursting bomb from the plane in front. So not quite the “milk run” it would appear to be.
The flight down to the target on this trip must have been a change, able to see some of the country side. Although the whole operation only lasted 4 hours, and so not a lot of time for sight seeing, no doubt the gunners and bomb aimer had a nice view. The only time I had to look was when I took a moment as we flew over the village where my parents were living, but I did not see any street or bit that I could say, “that’s where I live”. It is surprising how difficult it is to recognise thing from the air that you haven’t seen a few
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times from the air. But the skipper and I as usual were busy making sure we got there OK. Sounds as if he and I were always busy doesn’t it? Well we were, bomber pilots had it tough, long hours at the “office” in all weather conditions, responsible for a number of other people’s lives, not forgetting their own. My job was to help him, so I did, as best as I was able. I also wanted to get home again!!!
Once we were down to 2,000 feet, we pulled all our hanging bits back on board opened the taps, then bombed this target with all we had, again being very careful not to get too close to the bomber in front. All I saw was a few acres of mud which kept leaping into the air and rearranging itself, guess another case of over kill!! After the target, we climbed again after bombing to 8,000ft for the return run over the afore mentioned obstructions to our flight path.
This target was noted in the log book as a “strong point” which we were told it was at the time, no one knew what it was so it was decided to destroy it. A ground investigation later on found the gun, much to every one’s surprise at it’s size and pointing straight at London, various TV programmes over the years have shown it and it’s concrete barrel rising from deep underground. Checking distances with my M.S World Atlas I found much to my surprise that Boulogne is the closest point in France to London, closer that Calais by about 10KM, so an obvious place to put a gun of this range and size.
September 19th we took our old ‘plane to the HCU at Dishforth she had done 56 trips and had been hard used many patches and repairs has been done so with all her proud bombing trips still painted on her nose she went to train more aircrew for the struggle still to come.
September 25th off again to France in daylight to bomb a German strong point at Calais another target gone, our new E easy going good!!
September 26th to France in daylight again to Calais bombed Gun positions and the docks in the harbour, noted as another good hit.
September 27th daylight to Germany Bottrop in the Ruhr, have note that we bombed a factory on visual which means some thing had gone u/s. My pilot, Jim Tease recently gave me some more information on this mission. “I had a friend now deceased who was a navigator on 428 Ghost Squadron. He wrote a book about Ghost Squadron & I compared his report of trips we were both on, and found we had different visions of what happened. On our 31 trip to Bottrop on Sept 27 I indicate there was 10/10 cloud for the whole trip, the Master of Ceremonies (Master Bomber) of the Path Finders lost his way and we bombed where (our navigator) said the target area was
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located. Ron’s book indicates the refinery was hit & smoke rose to 17000ft. So much for records!!”
My Log Book for that raid states “10/10 cloud Bombed Factory Visual M/C U/S” guess that all means we found a gap in the clouds and bombed the target but had solid cloud both there and back M/C U/S Master of Ceremonies out of order, unserviceable.
On one of these daylight raids we saw a V2 launched on one raid, didn’t know what it was just a streak in the sky. Looking out of the windscreen I saw a streak of smoke come through a layer of cloud and shoot up into the sky and disappear into the next lot of cloud, l know the skipper also saw it but who else I am not sure, lasted milli seconds. It was logged by the navigator and an estimation of where it had come from made by us. When and where seen etc was important, once a site was located it could be knocked out by bombing.
September 30th daylight again in Germany Sterkrade in the Ruhr saw one of our Sqdn go down and three of the seven get out on ‘chutes, we landed at a FIDO ‘drome at Cranesby, no brake pressure went off the end of a very long runway into a field of potatoes that had just been ridged up and we went across the ridges, a bit like roller skating on corrugated iron.
On the 4th of October we went to Bergen in Norway flying across the North Sea in daylight to bomb U/Boat pens and a large ammunition ship in the harbour. We flew across the sea both ways at 1000ft to be under German Radar, and climbed rapidly near the target to 12000ft, Mosquitos and Mustangs gave us fighter cover.
I still have an image in my mind of a semi-circular bay with a large ship moored more or less in the middle. As I remember it the country around Bergen is low lying, nothing at our height to give us cause for panic, but if the ship had blown up and we were down low could have cause major damage to one or more of our Halifaxs [sic].
The large ammunition ship blew up. The ship was still all in one piece when I last saw it and if our bombs had done the damage guess we would have been told. I think it was our rear gunner who told us via the intercom that it had blown up, and that is why we were there.
Our attack made the Bergan people even more anti British than they already were, Gillian visited there some years ago as the intended bride to the son of one of Bergen’s top families, the mother was a local member of parliament, they treated her most awfully which did not help when she casually mentioned that her Dad had bombed the place during the war,
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needless to say that romance soon died!!! The Norwegians still didn’t like us Brits, near enough to Germans and lots supported Hitler during the war, bit like the Swiss only interested in making money, the shits.
Of course, most ordinary Norwegian people hadn’t any view pro or anti regarding Germany and Britain, just wanted to get on with their lives as best they could. Those that were anti us had lots riding on our defeat, and were involved in either working for the Germans or making lots of money out of them by trading with them, those that helped us risked torture and death, and were really in more peril than we were, they were the real heroes. After the war and for many years, I never met anyone who speaking with what sounded like a German accent, was other than Swiss, even if they said their home town was in Germany!!!. I still find the Swiss attitude to money and it’s retention disgusting, particularly in the light of revelations of their trading with the Nazis in Gold and goods taken from innocent people. Guess ordinary people all over this world just want to eat and enjoy what little life they have, but greed gets in the way and those few who can claw their way up the ‘food’ chain and get much more than their fair share are the ones who I have no time for, being poor perhaps colours my out look!!!
So we come to the 6th of October and a night operation over Germany to Dortmund in the Ruhr Valley, this was a 500 bomber raid to the centre of the city, we again were hit by flack bits flying about all over the place and very red hot some hit the bomb door hydraulics which fell open and stay open and I’m sure that it was on this operation that a lump hit Nick Nicklen on his side making a very nasty bruise, fortunately it also hit the torch on his MAYWEST [sic] life jacket so didn’t kill him, he was in much pain but got us back to England ok, Nick was awarded the D.F.C. later and I am sure it was for this brave effort. Because of our damage we again had to land apart from our base and this time landed at Woodbridge and after some quick repairs we flew back to base the next day, where I was told that I had finished my tour of operations, had been granted a commission, given dockets and a leave pass to get my officers uniform and told to report back in seven days. A friend and I travelled to just about every city and large town in Yorkshire before we managed to get kitted up in Harrogate.
Before departing on leave and to await our next posting we had to hand in certain flying and escape items. There were mainly items of some value French and German money hidden in our clothes together with fine silk maps of France and Germany. Our flying boots which had a hidden knife in the sheep skin lining so that the long leg warmers could be cut off leaving what looked like ordinary shoes also were handed in, other items like compasses hidden under badges or in pencils, hacksaw blades concealed in the linings of clothes, a bag of oiled silk that could be used to hold water and a few other odds and ends we kept, these like so many things at that time
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had no value to us and no doubt went into the bin without much thought! Jim Tease and the rest of the crew still had a few operations to go but I was not allowed to finish with them told not to be so greedy, others wanted a go and as far as I was concerned they were welcome. So home on leave to await what the RAF had in store for me again. Cycling along the main road in Cliftonville what should I see but a bunch of very good looking WAAF’s (Woman’s Auxiliary Air Force, who did every job except fighting (which they sometimes had to do for their honour) from clerks to Radar operators, cooks to delivering aircraft from the factories, and with them a girl friend if but briefly from my school days, Phyllis Dike!! I made contact and started to see her and eventually proposed marriage to her, she wasn’t very keen but agreed in the end.
I was recalled to service and was posted to Heavy Conversion Unit 1332, Nutts Corner in Norther Ireland where I crewed up with F/lt Poore,a navigator and a wireless operator all of us being officers and had completed at least one tour on bombers, we were being trained to fly Avro Yorks on the main trunk routes from U.K to India and Ceylon now India, Pakistan and Shri Lanka [sic]. We started the flying part of the course on the 8th April 1945 and completed it on 17th of the same month. My flight log of my time in 1332 H.C.U. is presented later.
The Avro York interior lay out was much as the Lancaster. The pilot, F/E, Nav, Wop were together in a small group, the F/E acting as second pilot even if untrained. When spare pilots became available they took over the task of second pilot the f/e found himself a place amongst the mail bags to sleep and do his job as he could.
When a number of crews joined Transport Command after our course at Nutts Corner, we arrived at 242 Squadron in Stoney Cross. My log book details my flights with 242 Squadron.
Within a day or so we were all loaded onto an Avro York, flown I know not where and without any “by your leave” injected with multiple injections in both arms and I seem to remember elsewhere, we were told this was for protection against all the terrible deceases we could encounter in foreign lands, yellow fever was mentioned as one but there was a whole list of them. I know most of us were a bit under the weather for a few days, some even very sick. What sticks in the memory was that we weren’t asked or consulted just injected!!
I had already obtain permission to get married and given leave for that period, but the Wedding was on the 28th and I had to get home and do some organising, so used the “old boys” network and thumbed lifts to England and managed to get a train to get home in time. Don Nicklen my navigator
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from 420 sqdn came down from Yorkshire to be my best man, and I can’t say I saw much of him before it was away on a short honeymoon, and then back to camp for both of us!!
– Reg Miles
The URL of this page is
http://www.geocities.com/milbios/Milesbio4.html
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Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S.of T.T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U.s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242- 246 – 511 Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 5
242- 246 – 511 Squadrons, Transport Command, Lyneham, RAF
I started flying at 242 Sqdn on the 16th May again all training in passenger flying technique, rather different from press on bombing! We did a few cross countries and many three engined landing and the use of radio range flying. One exercise in the log book was Over Shoots and Landings. Overshoots and landings are practice in taking off again before you actually get the wheels on the ground, some clever dickies even run the wheels along the runway and open the throttles and take off again, alright for intrepid birdmen like fighter pilots but not recommended for serious passenger flying types. There are the odd occasions when the runway suddenly does not become clear for landing, animals, cars, fire engines, even other aircraft, so practice for these times (which may never happen) is necessary, these days a no risk practice can be made in the Flight Simulator, we had to do it the hard way with an instructor beside us and no knowledge of what we would be asked to do, he could shut down one engine and then another, drop the undercarriage, put on full flap, what ever his distorted mind felt like that day!! The pilots I flew with on Transport Command had all done at least one tour on bombers, some quite a number and were used to the enemy doing much the same to the aircraft, so no panic just the correct procedure and “What would you like next” often asked, with a wry grin. So the other to “overshoot” became automatic, with me acting on my pilot’s instructions about throttle, flaps and under gear, but I was always aware of what he wanted and would be “hands on” waiting, would have been a rather poor F/E if not ready when wanted!!
My crew went on leave after this training, so I was made a temporary Flight Engineer to the Squadron Leader, who took me on a test flight of my abilities to Cairo and back, left Stoney Cross on the 4th flew to Luqa in Malta.
Malta was still on a war footing. Luqa, on Malta, a dry and stony place all the airport buildings pained white but very small and certainly not like any airport you may have seen, a concrete slab to park on for refuelling, all
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of which had to be done through massive filters, with chamois leather inserts to catch any water and of course the ever present dust and sand. All the ground crew well tanned and going about their jobs with efficiency, being bombed continually taught them not to delay getting the fighters airborne, we were lucky that the fighters had gone before we started to use Luqa, the enemy ones!!
Malta is an island with a long history of invaders, us being the last, independence was granted some time after the war and I am sure the locals were glad to see all the foreign military go, wonderful harbour, well used by the Royal Navy during WW2, a street (very narrow and steep) in Valletta was lined with open fronted drinking bars, just really the front room of a house with easy entry for the soldiers and sailors to get drunk, think from memory it was called by the Navy “The Gut”, but could be thinking of somewhere else, for us, just a place to “slip” crews, water always very scarce, milk, butter and cheese from goats, think I have mentioned that before, as I have about collecting all the papers and books from the mess before leaving UK to leave both with the RAF and also some Navy types who crewed a fast MTB (motor torpedo boat) made a change for both crews to chat with some one other than their working mates.
The runway ended at a quarry, no sight for the faint hearted, as it was well stocked with aircraft that had not made it, guess the passengers just thought it was some where the RAF stored unwanted ‘planes. My first trip there was with a senior pilot to check me out so a quick run to Cairo and back, all 7,800 Km of it! My years in South Africa had made me used to hot weather shorts and open neck shirts so it was easy for me to climatise to the changed weather conditions. I now live in Mackay, Queensland and there is thriving community of Maltese people, many sugar cane farmers or the descendants of cane farmers, and NO they are not called Maltesers!!
On the 5th Malta to Cairo. Cairo, a large bustling over crowded city, full to bursting point with every shape, colour and size of humanity, and I am talking about 1945!! We had little to do with Cairo itself, as we either landed at Cairo West or at Almaza in Heliopolis, a suburb of Cairo, where we were put up in the largest hotel I have ever seen, not that I am into hotels as such, but as a young very green officer the Heliopolis Palace Hotel was mind blowing, acres of everything, not outside but inside, entry large enough to hold a soccer match, dining rooms that vanished into the blue and rooms so large that if they had been properly furnished a guide would have been required to see us to the door. Each crew had a room on arrival with number of beds scattered about and a couple of tables and chairs etc, guess the hotel had not been completed prior to WW2 and had been taken over by the British Forces, lots of “red tab” types swanning about, had a very hard war from the looks of things!! Food was good and served properly the same
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as our mess in UK, so no complaints there. About flying times etc you must remember that as we flew East the time got later and daylight ended sooner, ie Cairo – UK 2 hour difference, same as New Zealand – Australia.
We all took a trip to Giza and along the road to the Sphinx and the Pyramids, don’t know who built that lot but bet he over ran the budget, The one thing that still sticks in my mind is the overpowering smell of diesel oil on that road, not so much burnt oil but the same smell you get on a production oil field, the brown desert stretched to the horizon on either side of the road which was very black and shiny, perhaps that’s where the smell came from not bitumen but oiled sand!!! Now I’ll never know!!! Natural History Museum in Cairo a must if you visit, remember it as a highlight of my various times there and after these many years must be a wonder to visit now, didn’t go to the medical section if just before or after lunch, in fact might be a good idea to give that bit a miss!!
I wanted to buy Phyllis something special and found a market that specialised in perfumes. Channel number 5 or was it 7? was all the go, entered this so dark and gloomy looking shop, about the size of your average toilet, greeted with lots of bowing, and what sounded like praises for my everything, down some steep stairs to end up in yet another room the same size where there was a small table and two or three chairs, ‘would the effendi like some coffee’? (no idea how you spell effendi)’ well really wanted to buy some perfume’ lot more praised heaped on me but coffee came regardless, the cups must have been part of a doll house at some time and the coffee bitter and black, Now I had to sniff every smell known to man, ‘is this for your lovely wife’? what colour are her eyes etc and so on ‘does my lord have a mistress’?
By this time I was all sniffed out, couldn’t tell one heap of horse crap from another of cows, throat dry as dust from the coffee, and still I was given the full treatment until I made a purchase and bolted, can’t remember what scent I did buy but it was a big bottle!!!!
On the 6th Cairo to Malta, and on the 7th, Malta to Base. My flight log records of my time in 242 Squadron are listed later.
Two quick training flights with my real crew and then I was lent to F/o Good to go as F/E on a Short Stirling (never seen one close up before) that was to deliver supplies all over the world, why me I’ll never know, a very quick half hour lesson on where everything was, happily the engines were Hercules with which I had done all my operations, perhaps that’s why I was picked, only one on the squadron with that engine experience.
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The Short Stirling was just a bomber, not converted to anything, the fuselage was used to carry freight and we carted an exhibition of bombs etc all over the place, we also picked up and dropped off odds and sods as required, much like a “tramp steamer” at everyone beck and call!! The Stirling was the first of the four engined bombers for the RAF and suffered because of that, a bad spec. by the chairbound in the Ministry ended up with a well made but poor WW 2 bomber, they did get used for bombing, others as tugs and for training purposes, remember one of Nutts Corner left the end of the runway and landed in the mud, tipped up on it’s nose, the Station doctor rushed to the crews aid (they had all left some time ago) climbed up on the wing slipped and fell off and broke his ankle, mustn’t laugh!!!
The Stirling was slow had no great ceiling, noisy, draughty and I was a long way from home, my crew and a lovely Avro York, what else do you need to think a ‘plane was terrible?
So off we went in a lumbering noisy old Sterling, 15th June England to Castel Benito in North Africa 7 hours 20 of misery, Castel Benito was obviously a place named for the Italian Dictator, My only recollection of this place is sand more sand and then some more sand, the tents we slept in were filled with sand and the food was full of sand and even the ever present flies were full of sand, how the troops managed to service ‘planes and keep them flying is a wonder. I don’t remember if there was a concrete runway but if there was bet it was covered in sand, it blew everywhere, filled every orifice, eyes got sore even just during one night there, no thank you don’t want to remember that place!!
16th June Castel Benito to Lydda the airport for Tel Aviv in (Palestine) Israel 6 hours 45. Lydda, was Palestine. now Israel, was the main airport of Tel Aviv, guess the name has been changed so people like me have no idea where it is now, but was decent airport so probably just extended and has a new name. While at Lydda took the opportunity to visit Jerusalem, The Wailing Wall, Church of the Holy Sacrement [sic], built on the site of the cross and also Bethlehem. I don’t even recognise these places when shown on TV now, Wailing Wall about the same but more open when I was there, Bethlehem completely unspoilt, a crude stable as it always had been, no frills or religious artifice, The Church of the Holy Sacrament surrounded by squalor, beggars, the maimed, and only reached by a walk through narrow alleys, now seeing them on TV, must have had a bit of a clear out, but the Church full of the usual con men selling bees wax candles to see the sights, all they did is coat the hand with evil smelling grease no bee had ever seen, and the opulence inside made a mockery of “love thy neighbour” when related to the poverty outside. HOPE THIS DOES NOT UPSET YOU but just report as I saw many years ago!!! Guess I was full of brotherly love after a tour on bombers!!!
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18th June a night flight to Shaibah in Iraq 3 hours 45. Shaibah, now there is a place to bring back memories not for me but for the thousands of RAF blokes who served there, when I was an RAF Apprentice I heard more dirty poems about Shaibah and its population than anywhere else, some went on for pages and although not a collector of such memorabilia, remember one that had as it’s main item a wheel of very large proportions that continued to revolve against the odds. Another place of sand, from the air very little could be seen as most accommodation was built under ground or should I say the roof of concrete was just about ground level, ventilation was by open slots at ground level, bit like sleeping in a WW2 air raid shelter, situated in Iraq at Lat 30-2349N Long 47-3628 E at 2224ft, has taken me many years to find out just where it was/is, managed it by locating a web site all about the Gulf War, nothing more to say about another sand castle.
19th June Shaibah to Karachi in what is now Pakinstan [sic] 6 hours 15. After taking off from Shaibah we flew directly to the waters of the Gulf and flew all the way to Karachi as near as possible in the centre of the Gulf, many bad friend either side so instructions were to avoid problems, even did a bit of a “dog leg” at the Straits of Hormuz to stay away from any one’s territory. Was quite a peaceful looking scene in those days, lots of small ships ploughing their way along and across, probably smugglers and all manner of evil goings on if we did but know it!!
And so to Karachi itself, part of India then, but now Pakistan, thriving city of many thousands or millions, place that I bought many carpets to bring back to England to help cheer up a rather dark old house Phyll and I were renting.
There were very many carpet makers in the various streets working on looms made from everything imaginable, some used by young children making wonderful patterns with the dyed wool, both hands and feet being used at a rapid pace to insert the wool and move the shuttle. I would shop about for one we wanted to do a room, passage or a hallway, and athough [sic] most colours were somewhat bright and did clash with others we had, we were glad to be able to cover the floors with some thing soft and warm. Many of the carpets had long wool which made them bulky to carry especially some long ones for the stairs, but the carpet makes were only too pleased to wrap them in sacking for me. Most times the Customs at Lyneham let me through without any payment but on occasion I would be charged some small amount to keep them happy!! The chewing of beetle nut and the continual spitting out of it’s bright red juice made the pavement look as if a gang battle had taken place, many were the street side workshops, silver coins hammered thin, cut into strips and soldered into intricate shapes to make the lovely fret work for jewelry [sic], and delightful decorative items. In fact all streets in every Indian city of town I visited had it’s crafts men,
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woman and children, some carved ivory to make the famous balls within balls, time seemed to have no meaning to the carvers who I was told spent years on a single item, how they lived was a mystery. Apart from the clever ones there was also the cunning ones, just a few of the things they made were, cigarettes in a perfect copy of all English packets and tins which when lit popped and crackled as the dead bugs burst, Phyll was pregnant with our first son and suffered as so many woman do with terrible morning sickness, was told that Philips Milk of Magnesia would help, but none obtainable in England that would could find, bought the largest bottle I could find in India at the Officer’s Mess, Dark blue bottle and all the correct labels etc, Phyll took one dose and heaved it straight up, might have been the right bottle but the contents were foul and unknown, apparently it was quite a common practise to bore a hole in the bottom of bottles of all descriptions, whisky, gin, brandy etc the favourites, pour the contents out and fill with anything that looked right and seal the hole in the bottom, I was told that at time pattent [sic] laws in India were unknown. A shoe maker told me he could copy any size, style, colour, so with a pattern of Phyll’s shoe size ordered a pair of suede shoes as a surprise, was a surprise to us both, Minnie Mouse would have been proud to have worn them, not Phyll, yet without soap they could remove grease and stains from the dirtist [sic] of shorts and shirts, return them the next day looking like new, a large country with a great deal of talent in the common man!!!
20th June Karachi to Dum-Dum Calcutta in India 7 hours 05. I have been asked what this was like, flying out of a war zone and to these peaceful areas. But it was not like that at all. Most places we went were on a war footing. Also I don’t think that the local population welcomes us, our money yes, but us no thank you. India was in the throes of becoming independent after many years under the yoke of Britain, Pakistan and Ceylon were also stirring as was Egypt. We landed in Dum Dum (Calcuta) one time to be told that we could not go into town as some workers had had an argument with their foreman and had tossed him into the furnace and shut the door. Another time we received an invite to visit a local Big wig’s Palace, nearby got there when a crowd on a rampage filled the streets and our taxi did a U turn and took us back to camp, war in England was never like that!! Instead of landing back at home, each time we landed in enemy territory, well on most days!!
22nd June Dum Dum to Palam in India 4 hours 25. The old city of Delhi, like some so many cities in India, narrow streets, too many people and cows, but New Delhi a much cleaner place guess the name tells it all, many administrative departments built I would guess to house the government in a cleaner environment, may be just as crowded now as the old one was years ago, we used both names New Delhi and Palam as our stop off point for this place, not a major junction at that time and not on our normal route. Calcutta
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in the East of India was a large city, the RAF base of Dum Dum well known throughout the service, the dum dum bullet came from there, and from the tales I was told much more that was strange and a mystery to western eyes, saw the Indian rope trick once, yes the boy did vanish but always thought there was something a bit iffy about it, if you don’t believe it can’t happen I suppose. Again the streets red with beetle juice and lined with small workshops in some areas, wonderful brass work made by hand, beaten out of sheets of brass, bought a beautiful rose bowl there on one trip, stolen long after by a staff member of the roadhouse we had, really heavy brass with roses carved around the circumference, these were filled with glass and fired so the glass melted into the cuts and then ground until smooth, coated with silver and fitted with a silver mesh to hold the stems, bought a few different types but all long gone now, probably found a new home years ago with the craved wooden tray, crystal glasses, and they even stole the fez I brought back from Egypt!!!
23rd June Palam to Ratamalana in Ceylon, now Shri Lanka [sic], 8 hours. Ceylon, Sri Lanka, was a nice place, called at a number of ‘dromes there, Ratmalana, Negombo, a couple of them, our sleeping quarters were straw huts in amongst the coconut plantations, spoilt for me on one trip when I left my case on the bed and went for a shower, found when I returned that it had been stolen so no change of clothes until I could buy some more, found out when I asked the station police that it was quite normal for things to vanish, very light fingered some of them.
Great surf beaches there which we all found very welcome to cool off in the water, no hope of swimming as one minute the sand is dry and the next 10 feet of water, terrific undertow we were very luck [sic] we did not get swept out to sea, Africa the next stop!!
A rather nice hotel built on a promontory or maybe it was a linked island anyhow went there one night and had a game of snooker with the attendant, played quite well but was given a lesson on how to play the game, found out later that the attendant had been the “marker” for Horace Lyndrum, one time world Champion.
24th June Ratamalana to Karachi 8 hours, 25th June Karachi to Shaibah 6 hours 40, 25th June (YES THE SAME DAY). One of the things I did notice about India as we flew the length of it to Ceylon (Sri Lanka) from Karachi. That it was covered in trees and where the vast population lived I often wondered, certainly the street of towns and cities were full , covered in the red strains of beetle juice and cows.
Shaibah to Lydda a night flight of 4 hours 20. 26th June we had trouble with the electric’s of the flaps and undercarriage so missed a day!! 27th June
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Lydda to Castel Benito 6 hours 40. 28th June Castel Benito to Holmsley South 8 hours , and finally on the same day Holmsley South to base at Stoney Cross 15 minutes, all in an aircraft that I had had about ten minutes of this is this and that is that!!
We were now transferred as a crew to Holmsely [sic] South, with 246 Squadron, and I started flying again with a F/O Lunn on the 10th July doing 3 engined landings, another gap which could have been ground instruction or being a “dogs body” to my F/E Leader, or even a spot of leave and started flying with F/Lt Poore again on Yorks on the 22nd and again on the 28th doing various training flight, then it was off again on the 29th of July from Holmsley South to Malta, Cairo West, Shaibah, Mauripur (India) Dum Dum and so on back to UK on the 11th of August having flown on 29th and 30th July 1st 2nd 3rd 7th 8th 9th and twice on the 11th August. The reason was that there were so few trained crews and very few York aircraft, so we all had to do a great deal in fact far too much. The logbook of my time with 246 Squadron is presented later.
A York oversea flight was very different from Bomber operations, on bombers our cargo had no opinions of physical wants, just sad and waited to be jettisoned.
We carried mail as well, but our passengers were important, not in rank but in the interest of the service they were. So a completely different style of flying had to be undertaken, “press on regardless” the bomber style was no good for people. Safe and on time was the motto, no risks with bad weather, fly round it, we could not go over because there was no oxygen installed on the ‘plane.
From my point of view it was all very strange to start with, clothes for a couple of weeks was required but tropical ones were worn most of the time, so we got into a routine of flying out from UK in our normal uniforms, changed at Malta and left our “blues” there to be cleaned etc and changed back into them on our way home, leaving our tropical shorts shirts etc to washed, ironed and ready for us next time out. Food was another problem, Malta for example was still on very tight rations and my first taste of goat milk, butter and cheese still a rank memory!! The warning to be very careful what we ate, the sudden change in temperature and humidity took their toll of us all and from memory we are nothing at all out of our RAF Messes and very frugal in them. We were not able to drink much hard booze, mainly soft drinks and the occasional beer, the fruit was very welcome however and provided it was either skinned or peeled we could eat them, most of us took back to England some fruit each trip for our families, often when we landed back in UK, calls were out for certain fruit mainly bananas for sick children
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in London hospitals, something in banana which helped cure some illnesses, needless to say no one minded giving up whatever we had.
When you and I fly these days we bound the ‘plane and are quite confident we will arrive where we should, flying on operations we went and came back (hopefully) now we went and went and went and then turned round and came back but it was us doing the wenting and to places that we had never been before and had to land discharge our passengers, sort out the plane, refuel etc, find a bed and food and be ready for the next one in the following day, the first few time were difficult, strange places and people and equipment, and even a brand new crew, all who had done at least one tour but some had done a number, our navigator I remember wore “brothel creeper” suede boots in the topics, was to my eyes ancient and seemed to dissapear [sic] between flights into his room, never really got to know him!!!
I had to get out to the aircraft at least an hour before take off to check out things and run up the engines, you will note many 02, 03 04, 2359, times given as take off time so you can see I for one lost of lot of sleep, the rest of the crew were not in bed but sorting out all the charts, weather, flight plans etc, and we often flew twice in a day if needed so apart from the constant changes in climate as we flew hither and thither we were kept busy.
After take off and once we had reached about 8,000ft we could settle down to some hours of straight and level flight, passengers had to be checked, even in those days there were the terrified ones who could not look out of the window,
After a number of trips the whole thing became a boring job with very little excitement, great discomfort because of the climate, lack of food and the desire to get home to my growing family, I really loved the RAF but loved my wife more.
Among the sites seen during this flying over North Africa, ones that are stuck in the memory are the rusting tanks and other vehicles that littered the North African Desert as we flew in and out if Cairo, lots of miles of nothing then a heap of rust etc, all seen as we flew over at 8,000ft.
We as a crew were transferred yet again to the top Transport Command Squadron, 511 at Lyneham who still operate from there to this day. (August 1998). The logbook of my time with 511 Squadron is presented later.
The only highlight during October was the flight the skipper and I did on our own in Lancaster Bomber P 780 (it was used as the squadron spare parts transport) was to fly by my map reading to Prestwick near Liverpool to pick up a parcel and return, clocked up 3 hours 30 in a Lancaster. The York was a
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nice ‘plane to fly couldn’t go above 8000ft because we had no oxygen for the passengers and it was not pressurised, really a Lancaster with a different body to take freight or passengers, we even had a very good galley on board but until we were given an ex airgunner to act as steward was little used, don’t know what training our chap was given but on the first flight was told on the ground what and when we as the crew would like for our meal. He waited until we were well on our way before puncturing the tins and most of the contents ended in his face or on the ceiling, didn’t seem to know about changes of air pressure, but he soon learned!!
There is one trip to Langar mentioned in my log book where we picked up a York for a VIP Flight. We were in York MW100, which had been the first operational York delivered to the RAF. I have read that Langar was an AVRO refurbishment factory, where repairs etc were carried out, so it looks as though MW 100 was “tarted” up there for 24 Squadron VIP flight.
One of the more pleasant jobs we have, even if a bit sad really, was to fly back to England those British troops that had survived the death camps of the Japanese in Burma and else where. We used Freighter Yorks for this with mattresses spread on the floor and female nurses in attendance, the looks of thanks we all got from these sad men was soul touching, all crews involved would have happily got our old bombers out and bombed the bastards to kingdom come, I for one will never forgive them for their cruelty. Returning from one of the later trips we were met by the Squadron C.O. and told to move all our gear into the Waaf’s quarters (they had been moved out) get a decent room and then report to the main gate where transport had been laid on, the useless mob of non flying officers had crawled out from under the stones they had been hiding under, while we all risked life and limb, and were now insisting that we as crews were not allowed in the mess in flying kit, even though we had to breakfast at between 4-5am and then go straight out to fly, when we returned late night no food would be available after 6pm. Our C.O. wouldn’t stand for that, he had done at least 90 ops some with the Dam Busters, so we moved all the Squadron items from the mess to our new accommodation, which meant all the silver, billard [sic] tables most of the decent armchairs (we could never sit in one because these idle sods were always in them), all the liquor from the bar plus all the glasses and bits and bobs. We had all been paying mess bills but very rarely had been in England, so an even bigger shock was in store for them when they found their mess bills had sky rocketed.
The day after day of flying from cold damp England to steaming hot and humid India was very wearying and when at the end of February 1946 I was offered the chance to leave the RAF I took it, our son Tony had been born in April shortly before I left, I could have stayed on in The RAF, but long hours of flying and a new wife and baby were not the way to go if life was
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going to be at all normal, what I should do for a job I didn’t know, but time at home was what I really wanted, it had been a long hard war and I wanted a rest.!! I have been thinking about this part of my time with The Royal Air Force and it seems as if I should explain where possible the duties of the various aircrew members. Starting with the bomber crews, the pilot is the boss whatever his rank, some crews were formed with quite senior ranking officers as non pilot members, this was often caused by the need for senior officers to really find out what happened on operations, often this was of a temporary nature, but it was known for a senior officer to complete a tour with a N.C.O pilot. The pilot made all the decisions in the air and usually on the ground as well, he had to have the respect of his crew and a happy crew always had a father figure for their pilot even though he might not be the oldest member of the crew, fighter pilots could and possibly should be of a less serious nature, most times they only had to look after themselves.
The pilot must have some understanding of all the jobs that the crew carried out, not to any great detail but sufficient to understand when things went wrong, and in an emergency could make the correct decisions if that crew member was unable to do so, his training would take much longer and would start as a pupil pilot on small aircraft, when he got his wings and started his training on twin engine ‘planes he would be joined by his navigator and in some cases by the wireless operator, these two crew members would have been carrying out their training else where, and once passed as proficient would have been posted to the conversion unit to await joining a crew, it is possible at this stage that these three crew members could after completing their conversion course, be posted to a squadron flying twin engine aircraft, DC3’s. or twin engine light bombers or fighters such as Mosquito’s, Beaufighter’s, Blenheim’s there were many different RAF and USAF twin engined aircraft in service all over the world that this crew could have ended up flying, navigation and wireless equipment was all basically the same in the RAF and no doubt the same applied in the USAF. Assuming that this crew now carries on to four engine conversion, all of the previous training could have been carried out in Canada or South Africa some I understand also completed twin engine training in the USA. Crews formed of Canadian, South African and Australian nationals naturally liked to be all from the same country, I am not sure what happened in other countries but I joined a Canadian crew when they arrived in England because they had no Flight Engineers, I do know that other countries also had the same problem but just who and how much of a problem it was I do not know. So now we have the crew at a 4 engine conversion course some where in England, here the pilot must learn the tricks of flying and landing a large and most likely difficult bomber, having done some initial training with instructors he will now get his crew together and they will complete their training together, While he has been receiving instruction and doing take off’s and landings with an all instructor crew,
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usually only a pilot and F/E, if going on a cross country he would have both a navigator and wireless operator also from the instruction staff (all would be air crew who had completed at least one tour and told me that it was more scary instructing than doing ops!) the rest of the crew have been likewise receiving instruction. Navigators, wireless operators and flight engineers would be all flying both day and night being taught and checked for competence in their various jobs, and subject to being passed as suitable would then continue their training as a crew, any member that didn’t do their job properly was soon found out and a replacement soon found, our navigator had been passed as ok but on a cross country during our training got us hoplessly [sic] lost in the Welsh mountains and the pilot and I, map and beacon read our way home, needless to say he went! The pilot now has his crew and after arriving at a bomber squadron he and his crew are checked out again by the various section leaders, he will now go on two “second dickie” bombing trips to see just what it is all about, standing next to the pilot he will watch what happens all the way out and back, and have that little extra bit of knowledge that his crew hasn’t got.
So to complete this long story about the pilot he stands at the front of his crew and leads and guides them in the tasks ahead. He never shows fear nor does his voice ever tremble when in difficult situations, he may be trembling inside but no one would ever guess, a good bomber pilot was a hero unsung, I was lucky I flew with two on operations. The navigator must have an ability with numbers and calculations often carried out under very difficult conditions, many were remustered from pilot training having failed to reach the flying standard required, they made very good navigators because they understood the problems a pilot could have, and could be very quickly given what additional training was required for a navigator. His job simply described would be to get you there and back again, on time and on target, never as simple as that because the bombing routes were always being changed to dodge known hot spots of “flack” and lead the enemy into thinking you were going to one town and then suddenly turn and bomb some where else. His view of the target or for that matter anywhere we went was limited by his position below the pilot facing a blank wall, his instruments consisted of the usual pencils rulers etc. but also fitted were a repeater compass from the gyro-compass until in the tail, a Gee unit which had a screen and fixed radio stations in England broadcast signals that were projected as curved lines which could give him a fixed position, the gee signal did not reach far into the continent so was of limited use but did help the beginner out and home, H2S was also fitted in a belly blister underneath this was a very primitive form of radar and gave a misty picture of the earth below helpfull [sic] if bombing blind and could aid in locating a town and the trusty old sextant, much improved from the sailor’s version with a two minute clockwork motor that averaged out the readings over that period so was a bit more accurate, wouldn’t do on a yacht would rust up solid in no
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time, piles of maps, charts for everything. Not only did he have to keep up a proper running diary of events, such as aircraft seen to crash or explode any unusal [sic] sightings, we saw some of the early German rocket tests on one operation, we didn’t know what it was and said so and we weren’t told either, changes to targets would be passed to him by the w/op, wind drift had to be regularly checked and whether we had a tail or head wind could effect the time we got to the target, and when we got back home he had to hand in his charts for them to be checked just in case we hadn’t been where we were supposed to have been, a very busy member of the crew, perhaps managed to look out the nose on odd occasions but always working and figureing [sic] out the next course change. The wireless operator was probable a very frustrated man, he had all this high powered gear and could only use it to receive, except in an emergency which none of us wanted anyhow. Signals were being passed from group headquarters to the squadron in code and where they effected us were passed to those concerned, almost always to the navigator, these could be very sudden and high changes of wind direction as monitored by aircraft ahead of us, changes of routes to avoid a new “flack” post, recalls due to bad conditions over the target or fog closing in on our own ‘dromes.
Which meant we might not be able to land properly anywhere in England, 500 to 1000 bombers spread out all over England many crashed with crews killed was not a happy thought! So the w/op spent most of his time listening in, when we started using Master Bombers, (they flew round and round the target during the raid giving instructions to various crews where to bomb and telling those off who ignored him) the w/op got some extra work changing channels as briefed so that the German radio could not block transmissions. Our transmitted signals out were always brief until over friendly land and even then too much chatter from one ‘plane could cause trouble for those in real peril, ‘planes with injured on board or ‘planes so badly damaged that the sooner they could land the better got priority and all crews listened to see if one of their mates was in trouble often a few words of comfort from a friend helped no end, once we started doing daylight operations and could see many miles we could also warn others of enemy action such as flack and fighters, and when we given the job as “dive bombers” on a couple of raids warn other of bomb bursts and local guns that could be a danger. The Bomb Aimer’s (or as the USAF called him The Bombardier) job was to drop the bombs we had carted about the sky and drop them where they would do the most damage, his bomb sight of RAF planes was quite good, needed to be set accurately with wind speed and direction, had a set of switches that could be set so that various bomb bays on the ‘plane emptied first once all the settings were put in which also included things like height and temperature, could be others but it is a long time ago, then he directed the pilot to change course a degree or two either way until his sight was on the target and then he pressed the button and a
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sudden jolt told us we were a great deal lighter and could set course for home. The Master Bomber made a difference because he would tell us which coloured markers to bomb on and give us lots of warning as we came in towards the target. Pathfinder Force had arrived at the target with the Master Bomber before we got there, he told them where to drop their markers and which colour to use, they didn’t land on the ground but floated on parachutes so the Germans couldn’t put them out but they did light “spoof” ones which confused us until the Master Bomber started and then most bombs fell on the target. Some RAF and USAF bombers has a light machine gun in the front nose which the bomb aimer could use, don’t think is was much use, we never hand one. the only other job that the bomb aimer could do was help the navigator with map reading in daylight and he always called out when we crossed the coast both in and out of Europe and England, at night this showed up as a slightly different colour of grey. The USAF made a big fuss about how their Norden bomb sight was so good, reports I have read since the war seem to discount it’s accuracy, like most things, a good operator is good whatever rubbish he is given to use!!
Lets face it the Dam Buster’s used a sight made from a few sticks of wood and we know what they did. We now come to the Air Gunners we had two one as “tail end Charlie” in the rear turret, and another as the mid upper gunner, the rear gunner was considered the top man and he really had the worst position both for comfort and danger, both turrets were fitted with four Browning .303” aircooled machine guns, the turrets were power operated, and the rear gunner usually saw the fighters first particularly at night as they climbed up to get into position the Browning was no match for the fighter cannons so they could keep out of range and bang away until both gun positions were destroyed, then we were sitting ducks. We had two good gunners and just a couple of rounds fired at a distant fighter was enough for him to go else where and find a crew half asleep, we saw this a few times when on daylight raids and cursed them for not attending to their job of survival for the whole crew, some squadrons has much larger losses than others, we reckoned it was not luck but bad training and stupid people who once their bombs had gone thought they were home and dry. Another problem the gunners had and this also effected the bomb aimer was cold they all had electrically heated suits but it could get very cold at night and it made it just that much harder for the gunners to stay awake. On one trip they took our H2S blister out and fitted a mid-under turret, not like the USAF ball turret but more like a small bath tub with a gun mounting, didn’t look very comfortable and gave us a gunner we had never met. What a dissaster [sic] he never stopped seeing fighters from the time we left the ground until we got back, poor chap was probably “flack Happy” That bit of useless gear came out and never went back what they did with the poor gunner I don’t know. but he should not have been given a mid-under job a midupper would have kept him in contact with the rest of the crew and perhaps settled
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him down, who know what terrible tales he had to tell, but we didn’t want him!! The Flight Engineer usually came from the ground staff, had worked on engines, prefferably [sic] those fitted in aircraft, many were recruited like I was having been trained by The RAF at Halton Number 1 School of Technical Training, after passing out I had served two or three years on the flight line servicing a large number of different areo-engines so my F/E training could be specific to the engines fitted in the aircraft I should fly in, the course at St Athan in Wales was quite short, and like all the ex-brats found it no problem, my duties were to control the engines all the required speed the pilot decided and adjust boose and RPM so that they were all syncronised [sic] and did not “hunt”, raising and lowering undercarriage, flaps and bomb doors also were my job, on take off I had to help the pilot hold the throttles open and assist in correcting any swing which could happen with a cross wind and a full bomb load. Every other crew member was strapped in but the F/E had to stand beside the pilot to carry out his job, once off the ground U/G up and flaps retracted, climbing boose and revs set, temperatures checked and on radial engines gills opened or closed to keep the engines at the right temperature.
On water cooled the radiator flaps had to be adjusted for the same reason, a log had to be kept from the moment the engines were started so that a running total of fuel used to could be calculated, every change of boost, revs ,height and which gear the super charger was in affected fuel consumption. There reading were very important also which fuel tanks were in use so that all tanks could end up over the target holding the same amount of fuel, a full tank with a hole could mean no return to base. As an F/E I never really had enough time for all the jobs, the navigator called on me at times to do star shots with the sextant which I could hang on a hook in the astro-drome above my bank of engine and fuel instruments, there was always some thing that needed a tweek or a piece of wire to keep it going, and over the target apart from all my usual jobs I had to feed the “window” out of the special chute, some time there were large bundles of leaflets to send down, to let [sic] the Germans they had no chance or the invaded ones that thing would get better. Before and after a trip I had to check things, although the ground staff never missed a thing perhaps we survived because they were as fussy as we were. My log had to be handed in and any odd things explained so that they could be fixed before we went out again. When ever I had time or if fighter activity was great I would stand in the astro-dome and do my own bit of searching, one night to my amazement within almost arms-reach was a F/W 190 night fighter, I pointed this out to all of the crew and the skipper slowly dropped us a few feet until he was out of sight, the gunners wanted to have a go at him, but the skipper said you can’t be sure you will win and we are here to drop bombs!!! The different in the training for the carrying of passengers by those members of the flying crew that transfered [sic] from bombers to transport was not so very different except that the “press on
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Spirit” of bombers was now changed to safety and arrival at the destination on time. Pilots were trained to fly with the comfort of the passengers as of major concern, Navigators now had some visual land marks to help on long flights and with the help of the wireless operator many “fixes” obtained by cross bearings from two or more radio beacons. The war in Europe and with Japan was still on so many of the peace time facilities were still not available but most of southern Europe was conflict free so that flight were in themselves safe from enemy fire. The flight engineer’s duties still contained those element of engine, fuel, and general aircraft overseeing that were needed in bombers, in the early days he was the only member of the crew free to move about during the flight no cabin crew were employed, so the was the only contact that the passengers had with the flight crew, and many times his duties required him to reassure passengers who had not flown before, although he also acted as a second pilot, on long flights, ground prepared sandwiches and thermos filled with hot or cold drinks were given to the passengers by the F/E. On freighter aircraft another new duty the F/E had to perform was the checking of the centre of gravity of the load this had to be within very strict limits, because of safety considerations, each item of the load had to have it’s centre of gravity worked out and then it’s position in the aircraft designated to ensure that the centre of lift and centre of gravity were within limits.
All RAF Yorks of Transport Command were also Royal Mail carriers so that large bags of mail on both freighter and passenger ‘planes were carried, there was also a small compartment that could only be entered from the outside situated on the port side near the tail, this was for high security items and was usually filled and emptied by a person from the Consulate, who would also lock it.
Without checking with Phyll, or for that matter anyone else, I applied for release from the Royal Air Force, because I had been commissioned I was able to leave the RAF even though I had signed on as an apprentice for 18 years after the age of 18. Phyll was shocked when I turned up at the home she had started to make for us and told her what I had done, what was I going to do for a job?, how would I earn a living,? none of these things had really mattered to me, I just wanted to be with her and our new baby Tony. My Commanding Officer wanted me to stay in and said I could return at any time before my demobilisation leave ended, on the 27th of April 1946 (the day before our first wedding anniversary) I was given a demob suit, some food and clothing coupons and cleared from the RAF, my leave would finish on the 9th of July 1946 so I had a couple of months to decide what to do with my life and that of my family. Phyllis and I were married on the 28th April 1945, she was released from the WAAFs in November of 1945 and managed after a lot of form filling and chasing up the local council to get a requisitioned house, which she moved into in the early part of 1946. These
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houses had been empty for many years were of low standard compared to today’s, but ours was a solidly build three bedroom, two rooms and a kitchen down stairs but had only one cold tap in the house, gas lighting and an outside flushing toilet of the design known by young and old as the Thunderbox. I was still frying to India and Ceylon and only managed to get home for the odd night very seldom, so Phyll all on her own with no help from anyone sought out second hand furniture and managed to provide the basic things needed to make a home, Tony arrived on the 13th of April while I was on leave but I had to return to 511 Squadron as soon as all was well with Phyll and Tony, but was home again on the 27th of April for good.
– Reg Miles
The URL of this page is
http://www.geocities.com/jkjustin/Milesbio5.html
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Biography of Reg Miles
Ex Apprentice No 1 S. of T. T., R.A.F., Halton 39th Entry 34 – 67 M.U.s – 27 A/S Bloemspruit South Africa – Lympe Kent, Flight Engineer 432 – 420 Squadrons RCAF, 6 Group Bomber Command, Eastmoor, Tholthorpe, Yorkshire / 242 – 246 – 511 Squadrons Transport Command Lyneham, RAF
Chapter 6
Post RAF
My parents called round to this very old, dirty, requisitioned house and found me in my battle dress trousers and very large white flying rollnecked sweater sitting on the floor smoking a “Churchill” cigar (very large and the last of my Indian purchases) cleaning and stopping up holes in the wall of what would be our dining and living room. To say that they were horrified would be putting it mildly, where was their son of whom they were proud? The Flying Officer in the RAF who had been on bombers and regularly flew to India and other foreign parts, gave all that up to do what? I couldn’t tell them because I didn’t know, just wanted peace and my own family and no more racing about the world. Something would come along I said, my parents were not impressed they had battled for years to get a little bit out of the working class rut, still only out a little way and here was Reg on his way up and just throwing it all away to be at home cleaning up the dirt of years of neglect. After our marriage on each trip to India I bought carpets and other items that would help to furnish a home, after the floors walls and ceilings were washed the carpets gave a nice touch of luxury to the place. In the kitchen was a brick built “copper” this was filled with water, a fire lit under and when hot this water was used for cleaning the house, washing clothes, and once a week for Phyll and I to have a bath, the babies of course got at least one day. Friday evening was usually “bath night”, Phyll had managed to buy an adult size “tin bath” which spent most of it’s time handing on a nail in the back yard, with a fire going well in the back room downstairs, the bath was placed in front and buckets of cold and hot water carried in from the kitchen. Ladies first was always the rule so Phyll could have hers in comfort, when she got out I go in and removed my dirt, now came the reverse trip with the buckets of water, each one tipped outside to run into the drain by the back door, once tried to empty the bath by lifting it up to the window sill and sliding it out, not much luck with that just a lot more water to wipe up. I did eventually install a proper full size bath in the kitchen with the drain passing through the wall and hot water fed from a gas heater and cold from the one cold tap. The whole thing was boxed in with a hinged cover which gave Phyll a decent size work surface when cooking, and fun for the boys to hide in when not in use for either of it’s purposes. I
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thought I might like to work as a mechanic in a garage, just shows you what an innocent I was, spoke to a garage owner who had looked after Dad’s car before the war and asked if I could work there without pay for a couple of weeks to see what it was like. Started a few days later and after a day or so he wanted to pay me, worked there for a few weeks, can’t say I thought much of the job or the owner, gave me some wooden boxes with parts of a lorry engine in it and told me to build it up, no instruction manuals so took me a while to sort out what went where and he was not impressed, went out on welding jobs to hotels whose heating boilers had frozen up and cracked, nothing went right and as I unloaded the gear from the truck he threw a heavy spanner at me which just missed, I threw it back and nearly hit him, so he said I was not suitable for his job, not a very good start to civilian life! Next I called in at the Labour Exchange and it was suggested that I should go on a course to become a commercial artist, couldn’t draw to save my life so that was out, they had a vacancy for a Trainee Manager for a laundry would I like to try that. Why not I thought, so turned up for an interview by the boss lady and started next day, must learn all the processes she said and put me on a Hoffman Press doing fancy pillow slips, kept coming by every so often and throwing all I had done in the “do it again” bin, all females working there and most old enough to be my mother, put me on the calendar, long steam heated rollers that were used to iron sheets and other large items, I was at the back on my own taking things off while two or three woman fed them in, or course I got in a muddle and another job hit the dust!! So it was back home and helping Phyll with house cleaning, my father was not impressed and said I must have a job what ever it was and suggested that he could get me a job with the large building firm of which he was a very senior employee. When it came, it was as a painter’s labourer (the lowest for life in the building industry) but I just took it to save any arguments and did my turn of holding the bottom of ladders while the painter did the clever stuff, while doing this in the middle of the local shopping street two RAF officers much junior to me on my old squadron couldn’t believe their eyes, told them that good jobs like this were going fast so they’d better get in quick. I had bought a new bicycle, the one that I had bought with the money from my photo job before going into the RAF had been completely destroyed when my uncle Jack was killed on it by a German shell outside Dover. I cycled about Margate going from one painting job to another, the one I most remember was the one at the local brewery, being the lowest on the totem pole I had the job of lighting a fire with wood scraps and making the tea at mid morning and afternoon breaks, got things going just waiting to see how many to make and no one turned up, and went out side into the yard and there all the workers were, both brewery and building, lining up for tankards of beer. Told to come and get mine but just did not fancy cold beer for a drink, went in a had my cup of tea, we were there for some time and eventually I was persuaded to give the beer a
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try, never tasted anything like it, smooth and warming and just perfect, asked where I could buy some of it, told not be so silly, this was a special brew made by the brewer for the staff and not on sale anywhere!! I had not taken up the offer by my CO to go back into the RAF, guess time just went by and didn’t given it much thought, from a salary of 20 pounds a week I was now earning about 3 (took me about 14 years to get up to that again and it wasn’t worth as much when I did) we managed, or at least Phyll did, both of us took extra jobs she did cleaning for the local library and tourist department and also worked in the evenings as a cashier at a large seaside restaurant, later on Phyll worked at a couple of hospitals in the Margate area, I carried out maintenance at the same restaurant and also had a teaching job for the local technical college. My father was talking to the company manager who asked how his son the RAF officer was doing, when told that he was working for the firm as painter’s labourer suggested that there was a need for a fitter to take control of the depot used to store all the machinery used in the company and also large stocks of materials surplus from contracts would I like it? Would I just, right up my alley so after a couple of days I started work at this depot which was on ground adjacent to Manston RAF Base, and in fact my yard was next to the station bomb dump that my father had built just before the war. When I eventually found the yard it looked like a rubbish tip, met by an old man who said he was in charge and who was I. Explained what my job was and found out that he had been there for some time just to help unload and load up the odd lorries that came in from building sites, asked why things were scattered all over the place and he said that he just put things where there was a space, and certainly didn’t do any clearing up or sorting out. A number of sheds had been erected and were all full of a jumble of building materials returned from sites, he didn’t know what was in any of them and had no intention of finding out, bricks of every shape and colour were stacked in heaps without any order and large stacks of roofing tiles had collapsed, spreading out like the tide to cover other items, with weeds and flowers poking their heads between. Loaded lorries had driven over what looked to the driver empty areas, but were in fact filled with sheets of glass, tins of paint, sanitary fittings, and various strange items returned from sites as not required or perhaps in many cases wrongly ordered, so that a sticky mess of dried paint, broken glass, and unknown fragments covered some areas resembling the appearance of a hastily cleared bomb site. This would not do for me, dotted about amongst this bleak landscape were concrete mixers of all shapes and sizes, and many other rusting hulks that I had no idea what they were, order what was wanted and somewhere to work and store tools in safety. I found a shed that looked as if it might keep out the rain and with the old man’s help cleared some space for a bench which was among the multitude of items scattered about the site. One water tap was near the front entrance, I say entrance more like the gates of hell or a test of driver’s skill to weave
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through the junk piled just where it fell, and without me asking a cup of tea was soon offered, that at least had received top priority. I spent the following week looking at machines, to in the first case find out what they were and to check if they could be made to work, that would be my first job, to get the plant needed on building sites in a fit condition for work. To make matters worse there was no electricity or ‘phone connected to the site and very little in the way of anything to help me lift and replace things that were broken, I needed to get things sorted with the boss, calling into head office for my pay on Friday I asked to see him and told him what I needed and was given permission to book anything I wanted with their local supplier and arrange for power and telephone to be connected, the old man would return to his normal work of bricklayer’s labourer and I could engage a young man to take his place. So the clean up started, I concentrating on checking and repairing machines and my new helper re-stacking fallen heaps, wheeling away to a corner all the rubbish he found during his efforts, which would eventually be used to fill in some large holes uncovered during this clear up. The first shed I had used was emptied of all the rubbish and made into a small workshop where other benches were installed, the power and telephone were connected, I purchased some items of tools including a complete oxy-acetylene welding and cutting outfit from BOC, which I then had to learn how to use!! A call came for a large number of wheel barrows for a site, most that I had found had splits and cracks in the bodies and all had narrow steel wheels, repairs by welding were hastened and a quantity of wheels with pneumatic tyres were purchased, a coat of paint given from our stocks, all of which turned out to be grey of various shades when mixed together, the site foreman phoned to send transport, who shortly after receipt of the barrows phoned to register his delight in getting what appeared to be a truck load of new equipment. Gradually sheds were emptied, their contents sorted and listed and put away in some sort of order, all stocks of bricks, tiles, screws, nails, plumbing fittings, and all the multitude of items used in the building and construction industry were sorted and listen on stock sheets, these were sent to head office for typing and all site foreman and those people in the drawing, quantity and supply departments given copies, amendments made to these when required. All materials for building work was on licences, which were hard to get and the cause of a great amount of office time and paperwork, my lists helped to overcome some of these delays and gradually most people in the organisation used them to help in planning, they became even more useful when I was able to add separate sheets which gave lists of what machines were held in stock and what their state of readiness was. I was now getting more and more calls from sites asking for my help not only to supply machines and materials but my advice was asked for on the manufacture of items for sites and in many cases I was asked to make thousands of an individual item for the massive tower blocks being built in and around London to house those who had lost their homes
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due to enemy bombing. for most of this twelve years we still lived at Tivoli Road in the requisitioned house, much cleaner and more livable [sic] after Phyll’s ministrations, the wall paper in our bedroom which consisted of large purple parrots on a dark blue background had like the rest of the house been removed and given coats of a more restful colour of paint, there was always plenty of part tins returned from contracts so no problem with supplies! Philip our second son had arrived on the scene about two years after Tony, which gave Phyll. more work with washing and caring for two boys who carried on a constant war with each other and would always try to outdo each other in the speed at which they turned clean clothes into dirty rags. Sheila, Phyll’s sister came to stay and had the usual boy friends, mostly American service personnel from Manston, none of which seemed to understand that rationing of everything was still in place in the UK, invited to an evening meal on one occasion the incumbent boyfriend took out family’s weekly ration of cheese spread it our total stock of biscuits and swallowed the lot! Whether it was the same one who broke our settee into fragments one night in a fit of passion I don’t know, the remains however did come in useful as our ration of coal for heating had largely been burnt and the settee end up as fuel the stuffing and covers used to add humus to the starved patch of soil called garden at the back. To help with the family budget Phyll had obtained part time evening work at a large restaurant on the sea front manning the till, she also cleaned the Margate library, and at times the Margate Information centre, she wasn’t afraid of hard work but it did and still does seem all wrong that people like her who had done their bit during the war got nothing for their efforts while the stay at home fortune markers still got all the benefits, I noticed this particularly when visiting an aircraft factory in the Midlands, whole families worked in the one factory each one taking home much more than the fighting men did and most seemed to have a fiddle of some sort which enabled them to get the best of every thing regarding food and clothes, some got bombed but most got rich! Susan came along after a further eight years, she was born at home as Phyll had not been happy at the treatment she received at the local maternity hospital and determined not to suffer that again, her brother Peter was performing with a band at a local venue and his wife Jean stayed with us until she had her second child, we even at times had other artists to stay all to help with the family budget. I had changed my cycle for a “Corgi” , this was the war surplus parachutist motor bike, dropped with them for quick movements of men, they had a small 125cc two stroke engine, folding seat and handle bars, no instruments of any sort and very basic lights, push start, no gears, and certainly no suspension, the front tyre wore to a point after some miles so that turning on wet or icy roads was fraught with peril, many was the 360s I did on old cobble stones and slick corners. A large metal box was made and fitted and my range of operations grew to sites many miles away from base, it was a cold and slow means of transport, crawling up a
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hill with the box on the back filled with heavy tools after an hour or so on the road to be passed with ease by everything on wheels and some even on hoof did not endear me to other road users, who out of pure spite drove near and informed me if I pedalled harder would get along faster. To spend over an hour on the road to get to a site that had called me that they had problems with machinery, only to find as I often did that failure to check the oil in an engine had caused it seize up, the topping up with fresh oil prior to my arrival supposed to fool me, strong words were said by me while I stripped the engine freed the pistons and rings and got it running again. Some cases were even more bizarre, once called to a site two hours away because the small bulldozer would not “go”, this was in the middle of winter with ice and snow about, found that the machine had been left after it’s day’s work in a large puddle of liquid mud, this had frozen overnight and struggle as it may the poor thing could only slip clutches trying to get out of the clutches of the ice, a stern word to the “ganger” to get off his backside in future meant no more silly alarms from that site. On another occasion nearer home I was asked to call at a site because the 14/10 mixer would not mix (14/10 – 14 cu ft of dry material in and 10 cu ft of wet mixed out) It was still operating when I arrived on site to be shown that as the hopper tilted to pour the dry material in it shot straight out the other side, shut it down and had a look at the blades inside the drum, these often got badly worn after months of use, not in this case the drum was full to the brim with rock hard concrete. Again poor or perhaps in this case non existent maintenance, I had issued guide lines to all foreman as I found that certain work methods damaged or caused performance problems with plant, in this case of concrete mixers at the end of a day’s work a few shovels of sand or gravel should be placed in the drum and allowed to mix for a few minutes this combined with the liquid cement usually still present from the last mix and made it too weak to set hard, the following day it would be broken up during the first mix. There were a number of these information suggestions most of which I have no memory, one that still remains is the one involving flexible drives used on vibrators to consolidate in shuttering, or formwork, it was common practise to hang the vibrating head over the shuttering and leave it operating while the concrete was poured, the sharp kink in the flexible drive caused the high speed inner drive to cut a hole in the outer casing, this would be fairly large on the inside but often a very small slit on the out side, if this slit became immersed in the concrete the rotary action of the inner drive sucked in liquid concrete which soon set when switched off and the next day no vibrator, more obvious to the operator was the damaged caused if the actual vibrating head was to touch the reinforcing steel bars inside the shuttering, I have had the heads returned to me cut in half after being in contact with the steel. During the 12 years I was employed by Rice and Sons many things happened that are worth repeating. I cannot begin to remember them in any proper order will just tell them as they pop up in my memory, a local garage
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owner who’s place of business was just up the road from the yard, I bought my petrol from him and we often helped one another out with bits and pieces, he had been the only one who had an independent supply of electricity provided by a single horizontal cylinder glow bulb diesel engine to start it needed a long heating of the bulb part with an oversize blow lamp, then grasping the spokes of one of the very large fly wheels a heave to start the rotation and followed by more pulling until it fired and continued on it’s own, the trick was to let go before you went with it, rather like prop swinging an aircraft engine, his wife helped him to serve petrol, but needed the engine running to supply electricity for the pumps, the odd times when he was too ill to get out of bed I would start the thing for her and so we became friends and swapped ideas about thing, he had “come upon” some very cheap metal twist drills and wondered if I would like some they certainly looked good quality but would they cut I asked, we’ll give them a go he said and put one in his bench drill stand and tried to drill a hole, no luck must need sharpening, and still no luck, a close examination showed that they were left hand drills were stamped USAAF and no doubt had originated in the USAAF Base at Manston and were made for a DeWalt machine that did a number of operations some of which required left hand drills. The local manager of Rice and Sons had a number of children one of which was a young girl who like so many of her gender rode and had horses, the garden at his house had become too small for her latest horse and as there was quite a bit of open space at the yard now it was tidy he asked if we could manage to find room for it, wasn’t very keen but found a space between piles of bricks and partition blocks that could be fenced and space in a shed near by that would do as a tackle store. The young girl turned up with this, to us great hairy beast, and put him away while dad pulled up in his car and took her home. We used to let it out to feed around the yard during the day and never really had any trouble putting it away at night, not that any of us felt very comfortable with it, but it did cause trouble, one day it got it’s nose and most of itself jammed in the door way of a shed while it warmed itself on a potbelly stove that was burning to drive out the moisture from stored items, one of us climbed through a window and tried to back it out but it wouldn’t budge, only thing to do was push it forward and dodge the backward explosion as it’s nose got burnt, it often scratched it’s back on stacks of bricks or tiles, our only warning the rumble as thousands of carefully piled ones slowly slid down to cover yards of ground, when burning worm infested wood it loved to put its hooves into the hot ashes and the long length of pipe we used to move the wood about poured out smoke from it’s top end, the horse stood with this in it’s mouth and seemed to enjoy the odd smoke. We had a few minor problems with this horse, it got out one day when a stupid lorry driver left the gate open and the young lad I had taken on spent most of the day chasing it over hill and dale until it leapt a fence into a paddock of other horses and charged about until this owner
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caught it and insisted on knowing who the owner was. The end for us came when I arrived at the yard one Monday morning to be greeted by a very irate RAF officer, the horse had apparently got out during the weekend and right opposite was the grass runway of Manston Aerodrome, these acres of lush grass were heaven to the horse so in spite of large numbers of service personnel in jeeps and on motor bikes it just cantered madly about preventing the circling aircraft from landing. The main runway at Manston was some miles long, equipped with FIDO and a major airfield during WW2, at this time it was occupied by the USAAF flying Lockheed “Shrunk Works” F80 Shooting Stars, Spifires [sic] had by legend taken off across the runway it was so wide, the grass runway was used by visiting light aircraft to leave the main runway free for ops. I noted that the officer concerned was a non flier and after he had calmed down suggested that he get a few years in before going off at the mouth to me, but felt sorry for him as no doubt he had been torn off a strip by some other prat in uniform, told him the horse was not mine and mentioned my service number which shut him up, but the horse had to go and so it did. Another morning I arrived to be called over by the next door neighbour, who had a small holding and piggery behind his house, to complain about the noise I had been making late into the previous evening, said he would come over and shut me up if it happened again, told him I wished he had which surprised him. What had happened was I crawled into the drum of a large concrete mixer to check the blades and water feed pipes, it was going out on to a site the next day and the phone call only came in as I locked up the workshop, my men had already gone, knew that most of the mixer was in good condition but wondered if the blades and water pipes had been checked, blades were OK but still a small amount of concrete on the inside of the water pipe, got a hammer and cold chisel from the toolbox and chipped out the bits and pieces, a small pebble just didn’t want to move so pushed my finger in to flick it out, the pebble dropped down jamming my finger in and the harder I pulled the more it jammed. The only way I could get out was to hold up the pebble with a piece of wire while I eased my finger out, the tools I had with me were too large, that is why I was banging on the drum hoping someone would come and help me, but no luck and I was going deaf from my hammering. Perhaps the last shovel of sand put in to weaken the cement remaining in the drum had a piece of tie wire in, what a hope but after scrabbling about with my free hand for some time I found a piece, held the pebble up and quickly grabbed my tools and crawled out, the neighbour laughed and would come quick if heard banging late again. Another Monday I arrived at the yard to find the entrance blocked by a very large and dirty Steamroller, no sign of a driver, enquires with neighbours did not help, no note or message on the machine, just parked most tidily across the entrance, walking space only. None of my people knew anything about it and none of us knew how to drive, we checked the tank which had some water in it but no coal or wood,
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lit a fire made sure the sight glass was full and when steam started to come out of various holes, pushed and pulled every lever in sight until it moved into the yard, rolled up and down the yard a few times to make our road smooth and put the brake on, the fire was only wood so it soon burnt down and went out. It stay there for a couple of days and then one morning when I got to work it was gone, never did solve the mystery of the vanishing steamroller. While I was having fun and games at work Phyll was doing her best to balance what budget we had, many times when the gas meter was emptied we didn’t get any “rebate” only the return of the many foreign coins left over from my trips abroad that we had used to get gas because we were flat broke. Tony and Philip were a great trail being about 5 and 3 years old, she once got them all dressed up in their best white outfits, told them to be good boys and play together while she got dressed in her only decent frock, we were going to my Granny and Grand Dad Miles 50th wedding anniversary party, all the family would be there and poor as we were had to make out we were not. I was on my way home from some job or other and arrived in time to see the two boys playing together in the garden as requested, only they were playing in the heap of soot that the chimney sweep had left the previous day after sweeping our coal fire chimney’s!! Poor Phyll all the hard work, no [sic] only did she make their outfits, get them clean and looking smart, rushed to get dressed herself, and now had to start all over again, and I turned up dirty as well. We got to the party and everyone said how smart the boys looked, just one more of the miracles she worked. Kids can drive you mad and at other times make you laugh, arriving home from work one day Phyll told me that Tony had put his head into the bath of bleach water while she had been hanging out the clothes, ‘What a silly thing to do’ I said to him, ‘it could burn you and make your hair fall out’ With eyes as large as saucers he looked at me and said, ‘Is that what you did Daddy’ I couldn’t keep a straight face nor could Phyll. Returning from a trip to my brother’s small pig farm Tony suddenly said ‘I know eggs come from chickens Dad, do pigs lay sausages?’ always expect the unexpected where children are concerned. Apart from all the house work, looking after our growing family, Phyll always managed to find yet another job to help the budget, with Susan in her pram she pushed her quite a way to clean and tidy the house of the local vet, his wife looking after Susan while she did this, funny thing neither of us complained, just glad that we could feed and clothe us all from week to week. Among the jobs I did as part time extra work, was painting a house that a nurse lived in near the Manston yard, and doing all repairs and maintenance at the same restaurant that Phyll did evening work. This later one was a real learning experience, all equipment and machines had to be checked before the place opened for the summer season and most were completely strange to me. All the kitchen machines had to be cleaned and tested, and what most of them did was a mystery to me but head down and asked a few questions and off I went, the
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chipper didn’t work I was told, pulled a cover or two off and found that the last one to use it had put in a rock instead of a potato (dissatisfied employee?) cleared that, straightened the blades and OK again, the spud peeler was very slow, found that the abrasive lining was no longer abrasive! new lining ordered and fitted, and so I worked my way through all the catering gear. The manager asked me to look at the revolving entrance doors, had been very stiff at the end of the last season, what did I know about revolving doors, nothing but there must be a reason, climbed on top and found that the lock nuts that held the door up were loose and had allowed the door to drop so that it dragged on the floor, soon adjusted that and smiles from the manager, he began to think I was a miracle worker, but most of it was just the very uncommon common sense. This restaurant was situated on the land side of the road that ran along the beach, a section that was below high tide mark had a dance floor and entertainments as well as food and drinks served. The floor and walls up to high tide level had been “tanked” with a bitumen coating to prevent sea water damaging the decorations and timber block dance floor, some clever “dicky” had removed some of this timber block dance floor and “tanking” to increase the area used to cater for food and drink patrons, vinyl floor tiles had been stuck over the bare concrete floor that was exposed, at the same level and matching those already installed, but these new ones had no “tanking” underneath. The manager explained that as the tide came in and out the salt water dissolved the adhesive which expanded into a large ulcerous looking lump in the middle of the tiles, ladies with stiletto high heels punctured them when they stood on them and the resulting black goo shot up their legs damaging stockings and dresses. I had a look at the problem and sure enough a number were well and truly ready to “blow their top”, dug out those that needed replacing and realised that to put new ones in with adhesive was not the answer, nails would be good but the heads would probably trip people but headless one might be the answer but into concrete could be a problem, had an old gramophone at home that used the old steel needles, gave that a try and magic no problem the hardened needles went into the concrete easily and held the tiles OK, quick trip to the local gramophone shop got all their old used needles and a few boxes of new ones and just kept an eye on the tiles and as they started to bulge out they came and new ones in, during that summer think I changed the whole lot. I was on call during the evenings and week ends not too many problems, most had been already fixed mainly things broken by staff or customers, the ‘chefs’ were a funny lot always on their “high horses” about how clever they were and just threw things about if upset, more work for me, the amplifier and microphones at the dances often played up due mainly I think by drunks grabbing the mic. to bellow their inane rubbish. During the summer ‘season’ Phyll did other work, one of her aunties had a “Boarding house”, perhaps the more modern ‘bed and breakfast’ might convey to readers what it was,
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whole families came to Margate and other seaside resorts to spend their summer holidays, the cheapest accommodation for a family being the Boarding House, must be out of the house by about nine thirty and not let back in to the afternoon, these regulations varied, some miserable people stuck to them, but people never went back to them. Phyll’s job was to clean and tidy all the bedrooms, change over days, usually Saturday was very hard, most of the houses were big old places with perhaps only one lavatory and bathroom on each floor, some not even that, so chamber pots or ‘gusunders’ were provided under all beds, hence the commonly used expression used in those days for all things running late “here it is (time) and not a po emptied”. How Phyll managed to keep house, look after me and the kids and still go out to work I don’t know, no such thing as child minding in those days, we couldn’t have afforded it if there had been, must ask her some time how she managed it all!!! The house in Tivoli Road had no electricity, lighting by gas may be romantic but fraught with problems, too much gas pressure or touched when being lit and mantles break, a small hole will send a jet of flame against the glass cover and in winter when the whole house is cold, the glass shatters and people get cut, candles were used to move from room to room, and checking a sleeping baby without dripping candle grease on everything was an art soon learnt. We decorated this old house from top to bottom, never thought to ask for money to pay for things just got on and did it, remember Phyll standing on a chair wallpapering our bedroom just hours before she asked me to go out and phone the midwife as Susan was on the way, we had made up a bed for her in the dining room so no stairs to climb, I was pushed out and told to boil lots of water and get piles of newspaper, think the water boiling job was to shut me up, brave things woman, glad it was Phyll and not me going through child birth, I need medical attention if I break a finger nail, guess all men are cowards. Because the house was one of a long row of terrace houses, now known as town houses, houses all joined together, being old and some had been empty all during the war, mice had invaded one or two, we had used traps and got rid of ours but roofs and coal cellars joined, so that migration to the best food source was common. All food was kept in mice proof containers, the only source of food not covered being the layers of fat on the inside of the ancient gas cooker, efforts to get it clean only disturbed the recent deposits. Leaving Phyll sitting beside the fire in the room we used most of the time I went out to the cold kitchen to make our nightly drink of cocoa, as I lit the gas light I could hear a scrabbling coming from the oven, a mouse was having supper also, blocking the rear vent up with some clothes waiting to be washed I turned on the oven gas, waited for the scrabbling to end and picked up a dead mouse and in triumph took it in to show Phyll threw it on the fire and returned to make our cocoa. The next night a repeat performance was in sight as the next mouse awaited it’s fate, on went the gas, open came the door and Reg ended on his back against the wall as the
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cooker exploded, with the eye brows, eye lashes and moustache singed I staggered into Phyll, no longer the hero just a poor wounded soldier. The previous night the gas for our cocoa had not been lit, tonight it had, when I opened the oven door the gas escaped and was lit by the gas alight on top. Phyll covered my sores with Vaseline and I hurried out to get the mouse only to see it disappear behind the vegetable boxes in the larder, using all my force I crushed the box against the wall and another dead one, but of course the milk boiled over so I guess you could say, Reg one, the mice one, a draw. A friend of both Phyll and I when were at school was Laurie Foat he worked with his father who had a Greengrocer’s shop in Eaton Rd, I had been interested in bees when at school and found that Laurie also had an interest and had in fact a number of bee hives. We got together and started to expend the number of hives by breeding and bought quality Queen bees which we introduced after removing the old queens, we had bees in all sorts of places, orchardists welcomed us as pollination of their fruit trees was ensured, growers of many crops wanted our bees on site, this sometimes was a very painful as during transit the hives often moved and many times we travelled with swarms of bees round our heads, hoping that we would arrive on site still with enough to carry out the job in hand.
We experimented with new ideas, the only hive that had been used in England apart from the straw skip was the WBC, this had inner boxes in which the frames fitted, usually two types, honey and brood, and outer sloping ones that gave insulation in the cold months when the bees were in hibernation, we tried out the new style National hives, these were single wall and larger than the WBC (how I remember all this after 50 years, I do not know) The National hive was a copy of hives used in warmer countries such as Australia and South Africa, where the honey flow continued most of the year and hibernation was not needed, our extractor could not handle the bigger National frames and filling by the bees took much longer and in fact frames were often found to be only half full even if the honey flow had been good, they were easier to handle but really not for the small bee keeper who enjoyed the hobby more that the honey.
We also tried out a new floor board which had a fine mesh panel in it, a cover over it was controlled by a thermostat which opened and closed it depending on the temperature, this in theory helped the bees to drive off the moisture from the honey before it was capped. An old wives tale says that your bees know you and you must tell them all about you family particularly births and deaths, whether this is true I don’t know but sitting by the entrance to a hive as the sun goes down with crowds of bees at the entrance to the hive all facing inwards fanning their wings madly to drive off the moisture from that day’s honey crop is a rather magic experience, the bees ignore you and with your face close to them the sweet smell of clover,
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apple or other flowers they have been visiting beats any of man’s bottled perfumes.
As winter approached one year, it was obvious that two of our hives were not big enough to survive over the long months ahead, one had been used as a breeding hive for new queens, the other the remnants of one that had swarmed in an orchard miles away and the orchardist had not told us until it was too late to get most of them back. We would need to combine them and as bees are very territorial they couldn’t just be put together (one of the two queens must be removed), most of both hives would be killed, there were two normal ways to do this, cover each lot of bees with flour then combine them and by the time they had cleaned all the flour off themselves they would all smell the same, another ways was to block up the entrances put many layers of newspapers between the two and wait until the two lots of bees had chewed their way through and hope they would be friends.
Laurie lived over his father’s shop which had a flat roof which could be reached from one of Laurie’s windows, the combining needed to be watched to see if it was going according to plan, and the bulk of our hives were on land some miles away, the flat roof above the shop was an ideal place, we thought, the hives were set up near one another and a search through Laurie’s wife’s food cupboard failed to find any flour but a number of half packets of different coloured blanc-mange powder seemed just as good, the lid was removed from one hive and well dusted with powder, the floor taken off the other placed on top and it’s roof removed and the remainder of the powder sprinkled in.
Some of the bees took offence at this and gave us both our usual injection of anti-rheumatic treatment (after the number of stings I took should never get any joint problems, perhaps another old wives tale!) we retreated behind the closed windows of Laurie’s flat to watch events, all seemed to be going well until Laurie’s father suddenly appeared in the room, not a very happy Daddy, bees, all colours of the rainbow were driving his customers away, no one had been stung, but they were landing on everyone and everything and bright orange red, blue, and even multi coloured bees were not the normal thing seen in shops. After about an hour the panic was over and all the bees had settled down to do what bees do best, hum, and make honey.
Bees like the rest of living things get sick and we sent any suspect ones to Rothamstead Research Institute for analysis. I had been working the bees one weekend and on the Monday morning woke up feeling not too good, turning to Phyll in bed asked if my face was swollen, the look on her face and a sudden withdrawal of breath told me the tale, got out of bed and looked in the mirror, two slits that must have been eyes once, two nose holes
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that belonged more to a member of the pig family, the whole lot buried in a red blotched landscape of no sharp edges just fat curves, felt even sicker after seeing that sight. Phyll rang the doctor, (doctors actually came to see the sick in those days) who knew of our family history and at once remarked that it looked like a bee sting, told him we had a hive that we suspected had paralysis and were awaiting the results of tests, sat on my bed for about half an hour finding out all the symptoms of various bee diseases, gave me pills to take, come and see me in ten days, these blue pills got rid of the swelling but seemed to deposit glass chips in my joints, Phyll had to help me move and the pain was worse than the sting, managed to walk with great pain to his surgery after ten days, when I told him of my joints problem, said he should have given me these other pills to dissolve the crystals that would form in my joints.
Went to him once with a very swollen elbow, tennis elbow he said, don’t play it I said, showed me his elbow which was just as swollen as mine, got mine playing golf he said, what shall I do I said, don’t play golf or tennis for a bit was the answer!! Good doctor always came when asked and never gave you any bull, just one of the old school, straight answers to straight questions and don’t go to him if you just wanted a note to stay away from work, I never did, in fact had to argue with him at times when he wanted me to rest, but mutual respect was our way.
At work load was getting greater most self inflicted see a job do it is still my way, and the firm found that if they wanted some thing done and it was possible for me to do it, it got done. The “Corgi” motor bike was just too small for all the tasks expected of me, tried to get a van from the firm, but even old ones were very hard to get after the War, saw an advertisement for a 1928 Austin 7 only 20 quid, borrowed the money from my Dad and went to pick it up, one of the firm’s lorries dropped me off at this farm many miles away from home, it was in the back of a barn and sounded a bit rough when started up, farmer said it had been used to carry a full milk churn down to the front gate each day, drove it out to the yard at Manston, the engine rattle getting worse as time went on. Left it there to begin work on it the next day, stripped it right down, found the front seat was a bale of straw, no back seat, when pulled to pieces the small parts just filled a cardboard box, the chassis was two slender bits of channel joined at one end and that had a number of cracks in it, engine and body was all aluminium so very light, Phyll not very impressed when she first saw it, a box of greasy bits and some other bits of tin hanging on the workshop wall. I rebuilt the thing from scratch, crankshaft reground, cylinders rebored, valves and seats refaced, king pins and bushes renewed, any cracks in the chassis or body welded up, new seats, and tyres and tubes, it was a “tourer” open body and need less to say the canopy was missing, I had a new one made by a coach builder, when finished I spray painted it dark blue, and we now had our own motor car to
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go about and I had arranged payment by the firm for so much a mile when I used it on the firms business, which in fact covered all our costs of the car and a bit over, the overhaul had been done in the firms time and at their cost, not that they were made aware of it, and wouldn’t have minded if they had, for me to be mobile anywhere anytime was what they wanted and now had it.
I could take a decent size tool kit out on repair jobs and even the odd spare part, if they wanted me to do oxy cutting or welding a van or truck had to be available to carry the cylinders and other gear, and the oxy cutting began to become a major part of my work, I had taken on a fitter who stayed at the yard and together with the young bloke I had engaged kept on top of the repairs to machinery while I was out on jobs. A list of all of the metal work jobs I did on site would take pages and strain the old memory but some can never be forgotten for various reasons.
There are three which stick in the memory, Dreamland a very well known and large entertainment park, side shows, scenic railway, ghost house, roller coaster, you name it, Klingers a stocking and tights factory built by Rice and Sons, and The new Margate and district Telephone Exchange also built by Rice’s.
I’ll start with the last, the telephone exchange, this was a multi storey building with imposing stairs and entrance halls, Italian workers had been brought from Italy to do all the Terraza work to floors and stairs, my first contact with the site was when one of their machines would not start and the local garages couldn’t or wouldn’t repair it for them, not a very big job to fix it as I remember, but with typical Italian gusto I was treated as if I had saved them from a fate worse than death itself, showed me all their secrets for treating Terraza floors before people were allowed to walk on it, dozens of bottles of milk poured on after it was ground and washed, the fat from the milk sealed the pores in the cement and polish was applied over this.
The interior hand rail supports up the stairs had been concreted in before the Italians started their work, before they applied the final grinding and polishing they wanted the steel core rail for the wooden hand rail fitted, from their previous experience metal filings often landed on their Terraza and caused stains which were hard to remove, all the interior and exterior steel fences and railings had been contracted from by a London based company some 75 miles away by road. Their workmen arrived on site to fit the core rail and spent a couple of weeks drilling and fitting this top rail and returned to London, the manufacturers of the wooden rail itself came to the site to check that this work had been carried out properly, most people don’t look at wooden hand rails in multi storey buildings, next time you are in one have a look at the complicated solid wood shapes made to change direction
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round corners or up to the next flight, all made from plans and joins that are hard to see. The steel core rail was a mess and phone calls to the London manufactures went un-answered, there was also the question of some hundreds of yards of exterior fancy railings which had to be fitted into holes cut in the Portland Stone capping that was the topping for a wall that curved round and sloped and ended at various entrances on three sides of the building.
The call came in one morning to visit this site and see the site manager, who just happened to be my Father! He showed me the stair problem, the core rail in some cases had been cut short and in others it was too long making the legs fixed into the concrete look like a row of trees, some of the end rolls were all twisted, in fact it was a mess, went back to the yard got oxy gear and other tools told my staff expect me when see me and ring if you can’t cope, the only way was to remove completely the core rail, straighten and check for plumb the supports, and start one end and rectify as I went, finished that part in a week or so, it was OK’d by the handrail people and the Italians who still made a fuss of me and I started to pack up my gear to return to base, that was not on my father’s plans, the steel railing manufacturers had been ‘sacked’, would get no further payments, I would complete the work! ‘Thanks Dad I had other jobs to do,’ ‘but you don’t leave here until the railings are complete’, see what happens when you do a good job? you get more!!
I found that not only had I to get the railings to fit, but had to concrete the legs into the wall leaving the cement a good half inch below the top of the Portland Stone, I then had to come back when the concrete was set and pour melted lead into this space leaving it slightly proud, which I then had to hammer flat using a caulking chisel so that the lead prevented any water from getting at the steel in the wall and causing it to rust. All this was said as if I had been doing this all my life and my own father standing there and saying it, there’s family for you.
I started on a long straight section and when concreted in it was straight as a gun barrel, a good start, now for this curved and sloping section, each day was yet another battle with wedging posts upright, cutting and welding, all joins in the rails had to be half lapped, welded and smooth, at last this very long section was finished, ready for the lead. Back to the yard for a coke fired furnace, pouring pots, melting pots, scrap lead, coke and other tools, I needed help with this lead pouring so told my fitter to report to the site the next day and we would make a start, did the straight run first, each hold had to be done in one pour, lead soon gets a skin on it and if stopped half way would not seal properly, things went well until we did a hole that was damp and all hell broke loose, the hot lead turned the dampness to steam the lead sealed the hole, but the steam won and lead shot out covering
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both of us with lead spots on face and clothes, none in our eyes thank god, a lesson learnt, back to the yard to make to face masks with thick glass and a frame much like an arc welding mask.
Each hole after that had to be heated with the oxy torch to ensure no moisture was present, winter in England there is always moisture present, and so we poured and heated and caulked our way round to the last post outside the main entrance, heated, checked for moisture, poured, and bang the whole of the dark brick work at the main entrance covered in very pretty sparkling lead spots, who should walk out before we could hide, yes dad, “now you’ve got a long job picking every bit of lead out”, some we removed but like I said earlier it soon gets a skin and goes dark and it was winter with no light so we only spent one day doing the easy seen ones and then back to the yard for a rest!!
Dreamland was a very different job, it was the height of the holiday season and the crowds filled every place of entertainment, Margate was a sea side place and families came from all over southern England for their week or two of fun in the sun. Those businesses that depended on the holiday makers for their lively hood had just three months to make enough to last all year, rain didn’t really matter the people came anyhow just spent their money in different places and Dreamland was humming. A very large building had been erected just inside one of the entrances it was about 40 feet high and about a hundred yards square, really only consisted of a corrugated cement and asbestos sheeting clad roof on massive steel supports, the interior filled with side shows and games of chance (very little chance in most cases) and it was always very well patronised, if the sun was out it was a place to get cool and if raining a good shelter, most of the people who ran the side shows paid rent for the site and many managed to find a space in their stall to get their head down when Dreamland was closed for the night. I received a call at home before I even left for the yard to get my Oxy gear and come down to Dreamland to do some cutting, I always had plenty of gas bottles on hand and had purchased very long hoses because of the difficult jobs I was always getting. Arriving at Dreamland I could see this skeleton of a building still smoking from the fire, the foreman met me to say that the owners wanted it cleared away as soon as possible so that trading could start again, but if I made a start a professional in building removal was on his way and he would take over from me. Looking at the structure it was basically a cross with massive compound girder columns at each corner, with again compound steel trusses spanning from column to column, the roofing material had collapsed into the rubbish beneath, but the heavy purlins were all twisted about and had been put under great stress by the heat of the fire. The safest way was to get on top of the building and using boards climb up to the ridges from both sides cutting and dropping the purlins as you went, this would leave the massive truss supported only at
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each end, cut through this at one end with great care, and hang on when it dropped, climb up the other side and drop the remaining end of the truss, this could then be cut up into manageable size lumps and carted away, the two columns could then be cut close to ground level and chopped up and after the whole building had been removed a final cutting of the column stumps would make the site use able again. Explained my thoughts to the site foreman and the boss from Dreamland who both agreed that it seemed OK, barriers were put in place and men stationed to prevent anyone entering the area where I was working, ladders erected for me to get up top, but my hoses though long would not reach far enough, so with a bit of a strain got the two heavy cylinders up to the top of the columns and lashed them there, I would leave them in that position until the time came to fell the columns. Up I went, ladders removed and I started cutting away the purlins, each one acted in a different way depending on what the stress was, just had to be careful and not get too close at the final cut, but things went OK and soon the clatter of falling steel and the showers of sparks from the Oxy torch had a crowd of sight see’ers, got the first truss free of purlins and ready to drop one end, when an almighty bang nearly tossed me off the roof, looked round to where the noise had come from and there was the “professional”, with his long ladder leaning on the truss, he had cut through one end of the truss and had not cut any of the purlins, dangling by a rope tied to the ladder his torch burning the ladder and the truss hanging by the already under stress purlins. The site foreman rushed to help him down and put out the ladder fire.
I cut my truss end and went round to start on the other end when another loud crash rang through the site, the idiot had cut the same end of another truss and now two were hanging and swinging, told the foreman I was off, let the idiot kill himself but not me, don’t worry he said he has scared himself half to death and is going home the job is all yours, I often wonder if I should have thanked the foreman. For a number of days I started at sun up and worked long into the night, balancing on boards and cutting steel, usually woke up in the middle of the night shaking at all the near misses I’d had during the day but just went back to the job in the morning, Phyll was going to the cinema one night with her friend up the road and took a short cut through Dreamland to get to the cinema, saw me up on the roof sparks flying everywhere and just couldn’t go any further, got the job finished in the end but nobody ever thanked me and not even a whisper of some extra money, should have asked for some before I started I suppose, just too thick for my own good. Reading this could make people think that I am boasting about how clever I was, I’m afraid the reverse is the case, all of my children have more sense than I, if extra work is undertaken, extra pay is demanded, and received, promotion is given with extra perks for an employee of value, I just did everything asked and in most cases took on extra responsibilities without being asked and it seems never thanked, managers used my work to enhance their own images and gained increases
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of salary and position by getting work done under cost and dead lines because they could depend on me, and I the mug just kept on delivering. I obviously didn’t realise any of this at the time, probably would have carried on just the same if I had, but I had something that none of them had, satisfaction of doing a good job and over coming difficulties that would have had many asking for help, none of my jobs could ever cause me any embarrassment about my skill as a fitter, my training in the RAF taught me that near enough is not good enough, only one way, the right way, think before you start, it might be too late if you start to think after you have started!! The next job I will describe was again something quite different, a site had been cleared on the industrial are between Margate and Ramsgate for a factory being built to manufacture stockings and tights and owned by Klingers. This factory was a very special construction in reinforced concrete, a triple barrel vault roof with north facing double sealed windows, parking and storage beneath, no columns or supports of any kind on the factory floor. The drawings of the reinforcing steel bars to go into the roof were a maze of interlocking rods, the roof changing in thickness from massive beams running the full length, to just three inches in thickness in the centre of the curves and again getting thicker to support the large double glazed window units. I was given various lists of machinery required and the dates when they should be on site, apart from the usual concrete mixers and scaffolding, steel bar bending tools were wanted to make all the complicated shapes of reinforcing needed, the men on site would start working to the drawings provided many weeks before the actual construction work started. Benches, various benders and cutting gear was delivered to the site but the foreman had trouble actually bending some of the shapes with the machines provided, investigations of machines on the market indicated that there was none that could do the tight and difficult shapes wanted. The architect would not change his design, so the foreman, workers and I put our heads together and worked out a simple device to bend the difficult pieces, made one of the machines and once we were all happy with it made a couple more. Further tales of working life can be found in the FAMILY CD. Reg
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[Missing photograph]
[underlined] Wedding photo April 28 1945 [/underlined]
– Reg Miles
http://www.geocities.com/jkjustin/Milesbio6.html
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
Biography of Reg Miles
Description
An account of the resource
A detailed Biography of Reg' service and post service life.
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Navy
Royal Canadian Air Force
Royal Air Force. Transport Command
Royal Air Force. Fighter Command
Free French Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Margate
England--Wendover
England--Aylesbury
England--High Wycombe
England--Dover
England--Shrewsbury
England--Liverpool
England--Penzance
England--Devon
South Africa--Bloemfontein
England--Taunton
England--Blackpool
Sierra Leone--Freetown
South Africa--Durban
South Africa--Muizenberg
South Africa--Cape Town
South Africa--Krugersdorp
Germany--Dortmund
Belgium--Ghent
England--Folkestone
France--Paris
France--Lens
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Karlsruhe
Germany--Essen
Belgium--Liège
France--Somain
France--Pas-de-Calais
France--Neufchâtel-en-Bray
Germany--Stuttgart
Germany--Hamburg
France--Creil Region
France--Saint-Vaast-La Hougue
France--Montrichard
France--Mimoyecques
France--Le Havre
Germany--Castrop-Rauxel
Germany--Osnabrück
Germany--Kiel
France--Boulogne-sur-Mer
France--Calais
Germany--Bottrop
Germany--Oberhausen (Düsseldorf)
Norway--Bergen
England--Harrogate
Malta
Egypt--Cairo
Australia
Queensland--Mackay
Libya--Tripoli
Israel--Tel Aviv
Middle East--Jerusalem
West Bank--Bethlehem
Iraq--Baṣrah
Pakistan--Karachi
India--Kolkata
Sri Lanka--Ratmalana
Sri Lanka--Negombo
Israel--Lod
India--New Delhi
England--Cornwall (County)
France
Queensland
Libya
Egypt
Germany
Belgium
India
Iraq
Israel
Norway
South Africa
Pakistan
Sri Lanka
Sierra Leone
West Bank
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Kent
England--Shropshire
England--Somerset
England--Lancashire
Egypt--Jīzah
France--Chantilly Forest
Creator
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Reg Miles
Format
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109 printed sheets
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
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BMilesRJMilesRJv1
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
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Georgie Donaldson
346 Squadron
347 Squadron
420 Squadron
425 Squadron
428 Squadron
432 Squadron
6 Group
77 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
B-17
Beaufighter
Blenheim
bomb aimer
C-47
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
control caravan
crash
crewing up
debriefing
demobilisation
dispersal
Distinguished Flying Cross
entertainment
FIDO
fitter engine
flight engineer
Fw 190
Gee
Grand Slam
ground crew
ground personnel
H2S
Halifax
Halifax Mk 2
Halifax Mk 5
Hampden
hangar
Harvard
Heavy Conversion Unit
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
home front
Hurricane
Ju 88
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 2
love and romance
Manchester
Master Bomber
Me 109
mess
military ethos
military living conditions
military service conditions
Mosquito
navigator
Nissen hut
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Oboe
P-51
Pathfinders
perimeter track
pilot
promotion
RAF Carnaby
RAF Dishforth
RAF East Moor
RAF Elvington
RAF Halton
RAF Langar
RAF Lyneham
RAF Manston
RAF Nutts Corner
RAF Prestwick
RAF Shawbury
RAF Skellingthorpe
RAF Skipton on Swale
RAF St Athan
RAF St Eval
RAF Tholthorpe
RAF Tilstock
RAF Woodbridge
recruitment
runway
Scarecrow
searchlight
Second Tactical Air Force
service vehicle
Spitfire
sport
Stirling
target indicator
Tiger Moth
training
Typhoon
V-1
V-2
V-weapon
Wallis, Barnes Neville (1887-1979)
Wellington
Window
wireless operator
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
York