1
25
21
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/165/2246/PWrightJ1544.1.jpg
5c332e0a9504a1f4d4d32946ae3936d3
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/165/2246/PWrightJ1545.2.jpg
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Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Wright, Jim
J R Wright
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-05-21
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. Some items have not been published in order to protect the privacy of third parties, to comply with intellectual property regulations, or have been assessed as medium or low priority according to the IBCC Digital Archive collection policy and will therefore be published at a later stage. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collection-policy.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Wright, J
Description
An account of the resource
93 items. The collection contains two oral history interviews with Jim Wright, letters, cuttings and photographs. It concerns James Roy Wright’s research into his father, Sergeant Arthur Charles Wright (1911 - 1943, 1149750 Royal Air Force) and an operation to Turin 12/13 July 1943 which caused 100 aircraft to violate Swiss airspace. Two aircraft were shot down or crashed in Switzerland. There are many photographs and details of the activities that night including reports by the Swiss authorities. The crews are identified with photographs and there are several photographs of the funerals at Vevey. Additional material includes aerial photograph of bomb damage in Germany and the logbook and airman's pay book of W G Anderson. <br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Jim Wright and catalogued by Nigel Huckins, with descriptions of official Swiss documents provided Gilvray Williams. <br /><br />Additional information on Arthur Charles Wright is available via the <a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/126015/">IBCC Losses Database</a>. This collection also contains items concerning Hugh Burke Bolger and his crew. Additional information on Hugh Burke Bolger is available via the <a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/102186/">IBCC Losses Database</a>.
Access Rights
Information about who can access the resource or an indication of its security status. Access Rights may include information regarding access or restrictions based on privacy, security, or other policies.
Permission granted for commercial projects
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Aircrew ready for flying
Description
An account of the resource
More than 25 airmen kitted up and standing outside two huts. Various airmen are identified and annotated on the image - ALE Robertson, SE Wodehouse, L Fairbrother.
It is captioned 'Tea Party prior Berlin 15/16 Feb 1944 30 aircrew 77 sqn RAF Elvington, [undecipherable] idents Best I can do Jim'.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1944-02-15
Format
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Two annotated b/w photocopies
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Photograph
Identifier
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PWrightJ1544, PWrightJ1545
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-02-15
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
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
77 Squadron
aircrew
Halifax
RAF Elvington
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/102/3571/MBooneRH1331310-150729-020003.2.jpg
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/102/3571/MBooneRH1331310-150729-020004.2.jpg
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/102/3571/MBooneRH1331310-150729-020005.2.jpg
bd40b5bd980cf154d46b66ade38f410a
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
Boone, Ronald
Ronnie Boone
R Boone
R H Boone
Description
An account of the resource
The collection concerns Ronald Henry Boone (1331310, Royal Air Force). It includes five photographs, his personnel record and a record of his operations. Ronald Boone was an air gunner and flew operations with 77 Squadron at Royal Air Force Elvington and then 35 Squadron from RAF Graveley. He was killed when his Halifax was shot down by a night fighter on an operation to Münster 11/12 June 1943. <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Sandra Jones and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.<br /><br />Additional information on Ronald Boone is available via the <a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/202629/">IBCC Losses Database</a>.
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. 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.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-10-01
Identifier
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Boone, R
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[underlined] 18 Feb 1943 [/underlined]
Mine laying ops.
Route: [underlined] BASE [/underlined] ===[underlined] HORNSEA [/underlined]===[underlined] BALTRUM [/underlined]. Release point:54.08. N [underlined] FLAMBOROUGH [/underlined]===[underlined] BASE [/underlined]
Bomb Load: 1 MK IV B200 - NIL DELAY
1MK IVB 202 - NIL DELAY
NIL Cameras
NIL Nickels
Halifax 11 DT 685 “C”
F/SGT Goodwin found good visibility and his mines were laid in position as detailed from a height of 800ft. Moderate amount of light and heavy flak. A searchlight was observed at eastern side of [underlined] JUIST [/underlined] Aircraft landed safely.
[underlined] 26/7 Feb 1943 [/underlined]
Halifax DT 643 “A”
Target [underlined] COLOGNE [/underlined]
Route: BASE===SOUTHWOLD===NORDWYKE===TULICH===DUREEN===NORDWYKE===BASE.
Bomb loads 2 x 1000-37 pistol fuse 845
810 x 4lb incendiaries (ord)
32 x 30lb incendiaries (ord)
Nickels - Aircrafts A + J
Cameras - All aircraft.
Primary site located, dropped bombs on green TI Marker from 15000ft, whole area well carpeted from incendiaries, no distinctive fires. Nickels dropped 15 minutes after bombing. Enemy believed to be ME109 passed overhead 10ft above our aircraft and attacked from starboard quarter from 800 yards closing to 600 yards, evasive action taken, M109 [sic]broke away to port. Flak moderate heavy 2 searchlights cones seen. Returned safe.
[page break]
[underlined] 26/27 March 1943 [/underlined]
Halifax 11JB 842 “E”
Left base 19.51
Landed back 00.19.
Bombing [underlined] DUISBERG (SR) [/underlined]
Bombs dropped at 18000ft cloud over target 10/10ths and results of bombing not seen. Large explosion was seen as aircraft left target area, 4 packages of G10 nickels were dropped after bombing. Numerous ineffective searchlights. Landed safe.
[underlined] 27/28 March 1943 [/underlined]
Bombing [underlined] BERLIN [/underlined]
Left base 19.56
Landed back 22.13
Took off but found Constant Speed Unit on Port inner was fluctuating. Bombs jettisoned safely position 53.46 N 02.01 E. also nickels. Returned safe.
[underlined] 29/30 March 1943 [/underlined]
Bombing [underlined] BERLIN [/underlined]
Left base 21.50
Landed back 05.11
Bomb loads: 2 x 1000 GP TD 0 025
5 x SBC (90 x 4)
5 x SBC (8 x 30)
Bombs dropped onto cluster TI markers from 18000ft. Ground haze at target, 2 fires seemed to be developing. 3 G 14 nickels dropped after bombing. Fires were seen when our aircraft was 120 miles away on return journey, flak light and number of searchlights. Return safe.
[page break]
[underlined] 28/29 April 1943 [/underlined]
Halifax 11 JB 846 “L”
[underlined] DUISBO? [/underlined]
Left base 20.24
Landed back 03.12
Mine laying dropping point 56.51 N x 11.09 E
Mines 1 x G 708 IV
1 X B 200 IV
Dropped at 300ft in position. Ordered flak from 2 flak ships, encountered no damage to aircraft and 12 searchlights in operation. Operation completed.
[underlined] 30th April/1st May 1943 [/underlined]
Bombing [underlined] ESSEN [/underlined]
Crew briefed but aircraft didn’t take off.
[underlined] 4/5 May 1943 [/underlined]
Bombing [underlined] DORTMUND [/underlined]
Left base 22.41
Landed back 03.54
Target attacked from 16300ft release point being 3 or 4 red TI markers in bombsite. Whole target covered with fires. Red explosion followed by blue one then big white flash was observed. Heavy flak from 3 or 4 guns observed and appeared to be accurately predicted. Safe return.
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
Ronald Boone operations on 77 Squadron
Description
An account of the resource
Details of nine operations carried out between February and May 1943 from RAF Elvington on 77 Squadron flying Halifax. Targets include Cologne, Berlin and several in the Ruhr.
Format
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Three page typewritten document
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MBooneRH1331310-150729-020003, MBooneRH1331310-150729-020004, MBooneRH1331310-150729-020005
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--Yorkshire
England--York
Germany
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943-02
1943-03
1943-04
1943-05
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
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Jeremy Patton
77 Squadron
anti-aircraft fire
bombing
Halifax
Halifax Mk 2
incendiary device
Me 109
mine laying
propaganda
RAF Elvington
searchlight
target indicator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/298/11395/AMcClementsI180225.2.mp3
08cdec3caa58e1b34e3d663c61328107
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
McClements, Robert
Robert McClements
R McClements
Description
An account of the resource
17 items. Two oral history interviews with Robert McClements (-2022, 1796607 Royal Air Force) and one with his wife, Iris McClements (b. 1926). The collection also contains his log book, service documents, photographs and a model of his Halifax. He completed a tour of operations as a mid-upper gunner with 10 Squadron from RAF Melbourne. The log book belonging to L Kirrage, his flight engineer, is also included.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Robert McClements and catalogued by Barry Hunter and David Leitch.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-09-21
2015-10-21
2018-02-25
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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McClements, R
Requires
A related resource that is required by the described resource to support its function, delivery, or coherence.
1943: Volunteered for the RAF
19 December 1943 -11 February 1944: RAF Pembrey, No.1 AGS, flying Anson aircraft
23 April 1944 - 20 May 1944: RAF Lossiemouth, No. 20 OTU, Flying Gunnery Flight, flying Wellington aircraft
8 July 1944 - 23 July 1944: 1658 RAF Ricall, 1658 HCU, flying Halifax aircraft
30 July 1944 - 18 February 1945: RAF Melbourne, 10 Squadron, flying Halifax aircraft
July 1944 - February 1945: served on 10 Sqn as a Flight Sergeant Air gunner.
3 March 1947: RAF Kirkham, Released from Service, having attained the rank of Temporary Warrant Officer
Chris Cann
Robert McClements was born on 6 December 1924, in Belfast. He left school at the age of 14 and worked various jobs to help support his family. While there was no conscription in Northern Ireland, in late 1943 while working at the Harland and Wolff shipyard he volunteered to join the RAF, as aircrew.
Following basic training at RAF Bridlington and then initial gunnery training at RAF Bridgnorth, he was posted to RAF Pembry to join No 1 AGS and train as an air gunner. Air gunners course · IBCC Digital Archive (lincoln.ac.uk)
He completed the gunnery course in February 1944 and was posted to No 20 OTU at RAF Lossiemouth and then on to 1658 HCU, at RAF Ricall, to train on Halifax aircraft. In July 1944, with all training finally completed, he began his operational flying with 10 Squadron at RAF Melbourne flying Halifax aircraft.
His early operational trips passed without incident, but on one operation the aircraft experienced heavy icing, causing it to lose all lift and go into an uncontrolled descent. With the aircraft going straight down the order to ‘Bale out’ was given, Robert managed to get out of his gunner position, but then found himself forced to the floor unable to move. In the cockpit, the pilot engaged full power and he and his engineer battled with the control column to pull the aircraft out of its dive. The flight home passed uneventfully although the engineer reported that the aircraft never ever flew again.
Throughout the rest of his tour there were other eventful sorties. On one, two of the bombs ‘hung up’ and they had to release them from the carrier units using an axe. On another, the bomb aimer forgot to press the bomb-release button so they had to go around again. Luck was again on his side when, on a night raid, another aircraft on a turning point swung across the top of his Halifax, narrowly missing the top of his gun turret. Robert went on to complete a full operational flying tour of 38 operational sorties over Belgium, France and Germany amassing over 200 flying hours. PMcClementsR1503.2.jpg (1600×1299) (lincoln.ac.uk)
After his operational tour, Robert was released from flying duties. He remained at RAF Melbourne and trained as a Unit Fire Officer and he and his flight engineer took charge of the station warrant officer’s office. During a routine site inspection, he met a German prisoner of war who was making a wooden model of a Catalina aircraft for the officers’ mess. Robert asked him to make a model of his Halifax aircraft for him. The aircraft, remarkable in its detail, has been a treasured memento of his time served in the RAF. Robert McClements and his model of Halifax ZA-V · IBCC Digital Archive (lincoln.ac.uk)
Robert met his future wife, Iris, on a visit to the Observer Corp HQ at York where she was a serving member. He left the RAF in 1947 having attained the rank of Temporary Warrant Officer. He and Iris settled in England where they worked with her father, in York. Latterly, he and Iris set up their own business in Wakefield selling motor vehicles.
Chris Cann
Iris McClements (nee Dobson) remembers, at the age of 11, being issued with a gas mask before the war had started. When she was about 13 years of age, her family moved to Eldwick to avoid the bombs.
She was a member of the Home Guard before joining the Women’s Junior Air Corp where she attained the rank of sergeant. She recalled wearing a grey uniform, being issued with a bucket, stirrup pump and helmet for fire watching and learning the theory of the internal combustion engine.
In 1944, she passed the entrance exam to join the Royal Observer Corps and was based in York, as a plotter. Her role was to listen to information from the spotters via headphones and place it on to the plotting table. This included the number of aircraft, direction of travel, height, and whether they were friendly or hostile. This was to give warning of enemy operations or to track operations heading to Germany. She worked eight-hour shifts which changed each week. The spotters in the outposts were also watching for aircraft that were going to crash-land, so that the crash sites could be identified. Iris visited a couple of these sites. She met her husband to be, Robert, on one of his visits to the Royal Observer Corp HQ in York.
She lived on an ex-World War One motor launch in York that the family had used for recreation. When off duty she would often travel into York to go dancing, swimming and to the cinema.
After the war she and Robert worked with her father in the motor trade. She then set up business with Robert in Wakefield.
Chris Cann
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
SP: This is Susanne Pescott and I’m interviewing Iris McClements of the Royal Observer Corps today for the International Bomber Command Centre’s Digital Archive. We’re at Iris’s home and it is the 25th of February 2018. So, first of all thank you Iris for agreeing to talk to me today. So, Iris, can you tell me about your life before you decided to join the Royal Observer Corps?
IM: Well, my war started when I was a child really. I think it would be at the age of eleven when we were issued with gas masks, the connection with this being to see war news at the local cinema where my father, who had put an ex-Blackburn Dart aircraft on his forecourt to attract customers allowed it to be shown on view while the film, “The Hell’s Angels,” were being programmed. So, I imagine that it was a privilege probably with the complimentary ticket to be taken at an age when I shouldn’t have been. When I saw Japanese fighting my interpretation of war was probably exactly that in England. So when I was issued with a gas mask I was absolutely terrified. But there was a false start to the war in as much as my mummy, mother said and if she said it must be right, there wasn’t going to be a war. However, a year or two later when the war was officially declared it didn’t, the gas masks didn’t have the same impact as they had when we first were issued with them. My father then, it seems strange to hear if I’m correct saying, ‘It’s Australia or Bradford area.’ And as I realise now Bradford had no industry. It was a woollen, and in fact I believe they did once have a stray bomb and that was about it. Having said that it wasn’t Australia. We went to a place, a village called Eldwick near Bingley. Very isolated. Very difficult to get, have any social life. I was thirteen, and I had not enjoyed school and I was glad to get away from it and so there was an organisation called the Women’s Junior Air Corps which I obviously decided to join. This had a grey uniform. You had the option of studying aircraft recognition, semaphore, Morse Code, and we wore a grey uniform. Eventually, I can’t recall why but I was made a sergeant. And we did have Jean Batten who was the aviator visiting and presenting us with the model of an aircraft. I think fire watching came into it because at some point I remember having a tin hat, a stirrup pump and a bucket and this was to deal with incendiary bombs which were the biggest cause of fires other than bombs. We did have for recreation a boat in York which coincidentally was an ex-world war ML. It was quite unusual and in that respect we loaned it to the Sea Scouts in York and a film was made actually by Pathé which I have. And as war made me have to do some sort of war work I turned down a job with, a driving job which was to be with lorries and I hadn’t been on the road at all except I went for a driving test and got the job. I didn’t even have a licence. I decided that we’d do, look at the Royal Observer Corps which was based in York on the Knavesmire, and we had to set an exam to be considered to be satisfactory I suppose, and I got the job which was in 1944. We consequently went to live on a boat in York because that was our only means of, it was quite a large boat anyway and the Observer Corps, mine was Number 9 Group which actually covered the Royal Canadian Air Force who were 6 Group. But Number 10 Group was also on the Knavesmire which covered the area south of York, for example, Elvington. I —
[recording paused]
SP: So, Iris obviously you were based in York at the Knavesmire with the ROC. What was a typical day like? What would happen in your role with the ROC?
IM: Well, very little in this respect. We had a uniform which was the same exactly as the RAF, and we changed shifts every week which on reflection I wouldn’t think was very difficult to cope with. It would have been better all night or all days. I don’t remember it being a problem but I had to get from the boat to the Knavesmire which must be a couple of miles cycling. It [pause] wait a minute I’ll get that right. Well typical, I would say month rather than a day because we changed shifts every week. I don’t remember it being a difficult to get used to but on reflection I think it would have been better all day all night. But as it was we were travelling from four to midnight, midnight to eight, and eight to four and we spent cycling for some period at midnight and we had difficulties of lights, difficulty of weather. All of which I don’t really find it was a hardship at that age. We, I can remember skidding on ice at one period and the only thing that comes to mind was one poor member wore a wig, and her wig went rolling down the road. And that seems to be more of a memory than [laughs] Feeling sorry for her than us landing on ice down a hill in the middle of York which is called Michaelgate. We [pause], life with very little occupation. If I looked in my diary all I can see is, “Pictures,” “Swimming in the river,” “Pictures,” “Swimming in the river,” which of course, cinema was the forerunner of television so —
SP: So, this was on your days off.
IM: Yeah.
SP: Or the times you were on shift. Yeah. So, just on your shift itself, so you’d arrive at the building. What would you do when you arrived? What would be a typical thing you’d have to do as soon as you arrived?
IM: We did, we wore, this is what I don’t like, we wore —
SP: What did you do? So, rather than what you wore what did you actually do? So, you arrived. Did you have to clock in? Did you go straight to, what was the room like that you were in because I think people won’t know what it even looked like inside the room.
IM: Well, the room, the room was typical of a plotting table which you, you can find on the internet. There were so many people around the table.
SP: So, about how many would be in that, that one room you were in.
IM: You know, I had the number and I can’t just think of it.
SP: But roughly. Was it five? Twenty? Fifty?
IM: No. There was probably about a dozen.
SP: Right, so about a dozen in that. Yeah.
IM: And we were plotters. They were on the outpost who I feel need the most admiration for. It had to be clear night before they could actually tell by visual plotting the height and speed of an aircraft and that wouldn’t be necessarily every night. But they, we wore headsets permanently for eight hours and the, the outpost people were feeding us information. As I remember we were in communication with the fighter and Bomber Command and also instigation, instigating the, a siren being put into operation that there was a raid forthcoming. We’d also, the outpost people covered an area of five miles. They were passed from that area to the next area and the next Observer Corps and it was a matter of finding, there would be some aircraft running out of fuel, and they had to know if they crash landed where they were. In fact, any plane that crash landed they were covered because the whole area was covered. We’d be able to send them straight to where the problem was. We had special clocks with colours, and I only remember that the red and blue for instance were the number of aircraft which, if you weren’t not on duty you would be able to see York is surrounded by several aerodromes, and you would get them like flies in the skies accumulating. I think they circled before they took off on mass. Always occurred to me which was the case I don’t think they had every had formation flying instruction and sadly a lot of them didn’t, by crashing into each other or even dropping bombs on each other on some occasion. We, so they would go in to the next area and we would hand that information over. I don’t know whether we referred to the fact that we had the same uniform as the RAF, and we had been, on one occasion I was told to put my cap on, which was a forage cap. Became unusual because the, they were issued with ex-Army berets thereafter and still wear that on, those on parades. I had, I don’t know if I referred to the fact that I was bawled at by an RAF officer to put my cap on and I didn’t know whether I should tell him as people seem to think that we were not associated with the RAF but I did as I was told anyway. Do you know I can say that during the day depending on the aircraft going out on raids that you would get whole crews coming in to York. It would be full of Air Force but they did, my observations they’d stick together and weren’t a bit considered to be a danger as in these current days. They were, we just went to dances. While we were in the Observer Corps we were invited out to various places. For example Tholthorpe, Linton, Rufforth and they would send a Liberty bus to collect us and bring us safely home. And as far as I was aware there was never any problem of leaving anybody behind at the aerodromes [laughs] So, daytime was pretty boring although we did have a reasonably interesting life on the boat. We were, consequently made lots of friends, particularly the Canadians and we in fact went in to business in York which I’ll tell you about later. And the Canadians in their spare time would come if they were interested and we had more fun after the war with the Canadians before they went back.
SP: So, just before we go on to the part after the war.
IM: Yeah.
SP: Just for the Royal Observer Corps. So what would your role actually do? Just talk about what you actually did when you were in your room at the Royal Observer Corps. So, obviously you, you said you had head phone, had a headset on.
IM: Yes.
SP: So, you’d get information and what would you do with that information?
IM: Well, we were wearing headsets. We [pause] the outpost would give us a reading, and I seem to think it was where the arrows met in the middle that was the actual position of the aircraft, and we had to then put it on the table which had a grid and it would show you the direction of the aircraft, hopefully the speed of the aircraft, and enemy aircraft obviously they were trying to indicate which direction or town it was heading for to forewarn which our motto, our logo is, “Forewarned is Forearmed.”
SP: So you’ve got all the planes that you’ve put the information on the actual —
IM: Table.
SP: Table. What happens to that information? How is that passed on then, that information that you’re putting all your details on the table?
IM: We’re getting information from the spotters.
SP: Yeah.
IM: And you had what were called tellers. I might let you down here. We were plotting. We were the plotters. The tellers I think were passing the information on. If that makes sense.
SP: That, that would then go to the relevant —
IM: Yes.
SP: RAF headquarters or —
IM: Fighter Command. Bomber Command.
SP: Right.
IM: Sirens, and basically back to, “Forewarned is Forearmed.”
SP: So you didn’t, you plotted any fighter aircraft as well. So anything that was in the air for —
IM: Anything. And it was, I think mainly forewarning about fighter aircraft because I do think I remember putting on the table we had a plaque that we were pushing along with a stick which said “H” for hostile. That all I do remember. So this isn’t being recorded at the moment is it? Oh [laughs] You want that bit out then.
SP: That’s fine on the hostile bit. So that’s fine.
IM: Yeah.
SP: So you’d have those on the table. So how many planes might you have. Or from your memory how many planes would there be on the table?
IM: Well, we’d see. Obviously, if it was the bombers going out —
SP: Yeah.
IM: I recall we just had one plaque that said a hundred or two hundred plus. Usually they were going off as I understand it to, most of the time to Reading before they turned off to go to the bombing. Although on some occasions I think they just went direct but I was surprised to hear about the going to Reading because in fact I think quite a few did crash into each other before they left this country. Hence my reference to whatever they did a lot of them went to Canada to be training. I don’t think they were given formation flying but two hundred and fifty bombers. There were a lot of accidents between them.
SP: So would you, so you’d mainly put groups on the table? It would be like groups of fighters and groups of bombers —
IM: Yeah [unclear] an individual.
SP: Yeah.
IM: Because the names must have, the main one I remember which was on the 4th of March not long before the war ended. Apparently, according to my, my information they were forewarned that Elvington was always going to be a target because the Germans didn’t like the French. And in fact that was only about six weeks before the war finished that they carried out that threat. And I understand they were over England. There were large number of German aircraft and a large number of our aircraft that they managed to shoot down having got successful raids over Germany and it was a night that they didn’t have a particularly bad time but they did what they said. They followed them home and I could be right or wrong about this but the way the Germans were flying and they got it organised they would be too low for our spotters to be able to [pause] well follow every one, and this was the only raid sadly before the end of the war when the, according to the information one plane in particular was strafing the runway. And Melbourne where my husband was flying from lights were turned out anyway and they were told to divert to their, one would assume their respective emergency landings. Only Elvington still had their lights on but there are various recollections of what they suggested. The lights. The particular Junkers that tried to strafe the runway unfortunately hit a tree, ultimately a farmhouse sadly which was the only one standing for miles around. Killed the four Germans, killed themselves and they killed the three people in the house. I don’t know why I would write, go out to witness this. I do say on another occasion the following day when a plane crashed in York that we, we thought we were going out to help so having cycled out to see this German plane which had crashed I only remember seeing a very highly polished boot amongst it so I don’t think it got fire, caught fire. Afterwards learned that that particular aircraft which I could give you the names of, I’ve looked it up it was one of the ones that was responsible for shooting down one of my husband’s colleagues in a Halifax which there were four shot down over York on that particular day. The following day there was a aircraft from Linton which, we were living on the boat by then which we had a skylight which was an artificial form of overhead lighting and my brother, small brother can remember seeing the plane disintegrate and that according to my reading since is correct and it crashed. I would only think only as the crow flies about a mile away from where we were and again we rushed to see what we could do to help. My father I think he and I had some dispute about which bike. He’d got the wrong bike. Either the chain came off or the pedal went and consequently when we got to the Winning Post, it’s called in York, a pub which was next to the housing estate he had because of his misfortune he turned out to be fortunate because he actually approached the corner of the house as either the bombs or the fuel tanks went off, and the blast bypassed him because he, he was, he got away with it. That happened within two days of each other, and that was the last, I think one of the last offensives in England. I can only go down to say what I repeat, it was the aircraft that were running out of fuel, it was where they crashed, it was where they were going hopefully that we were able to pass on that information. During the war when I met my husband who was flying, interestingly we travelled back to Belfast which was his home town and in so doing we travelled into southern Ireland which was unbelievably close to the fact they were still like London. Illuminated like fairyland. And we also bought things like shoes and handbags and food and got caught only for the duty on cigarettes which interestingly you were only allowed a hundred from Southern Ireland to Northern Ireland but if you came from southern Ireland direct to London for example then the allocation was two hundred. So they were having a ball just catching people on cigarettes. And funnily enough they didn’t look that I’m sitting on binoculars and things like that that we’d bought. So that was interesting. We would buy meat at the border and we’d travel back home with steaks the following day probably. Post-war we, as I’ve said before we got very friendly with the Canadians who, the boat attracted them, the fact that we were maybe a little bit different as a family. This led to ultimately VE Day when according to my diary it was a wonder the boat didn’t capsize because everybody was coming on. I had a, an accordian at that time that I’m not that good at it but I can knock a tune out. So there was plenty of singing and dancing going on and the York Corporation provided fairy lights to decorate the boat with which was then in what they called the Foss Basin in York which where the River Foss joins the Ouse and eventually it was moved to the main River, Lendal Bridge where I have pictures of it illuminated there for them. When VJ night was finally announced we had gone for a first break to Bridlington, where I was confined to my room with what turned out to be chicken pox and for some reason I was treated like someone who had the plague because I think I do know in the past I had been once taken to an isolation hospital. I think possibly because of scarlet fever and it’s after affects. And for some reason my mother who incidentally we all got chicken pox because she’d had the shingles and she wasn’t in the best of health and I think that she thought I was going to be taken away ha ha. So I remained in my room until and all the fireworks were going off around me until my father sent the car to collect me secretly. Creeping off and being taken home. The same car was a, a new Nash motor car which was American. Bought before the war and subsequently stored which came out after the war which was by then quite a, quite a car to look at. My father had little flags made for each wing so that I could judge the distance presumably and our first trip was to the coast where he just sent me down on to a car park and told somebody to show me where reverse gear was. I set off with the family to the first occasion when Butlin’s was open, and it came about that during the conversation that were my first trip and I can recall somebody saying they thought so when they saw me take about a dozen positions to try and park this large car. We, little flags and the post got my father into all sort of places. He was quite like a particular flag which he must have copied and when my husband was still standing down at Melbourne he got word that there was a CO on the camp, and it was only my father with his car touring the camp when he had everybody standing to attention. But it was not the CO. But there was a lot of fun then after the war because we were travelling to backwards and forwards. He actually never knew, the sad thing about my husband’s crew was that he was successful on thirty eight missions but on one occasion one of the crew decided he would just take a trip to Doncaster or quite nearby and I did have reports of the return journey but they disappeared totally off the face of the earth, probably in the Humber. But this car, my husband-to-be sneaked it out the garage to go and get the wife and child of this particular crew member. Doing them a good turn to put them on the train out of the, back to where they were intending to go. But on reflection it wasn’t a good idea because he wouldn’t be insured and my father never knew, and it probably should not have happened but we thought we were doing a good turn. So when we, still during this period the Canadians who we thought had advantages, for example I think they would have motorbikes, and possibly it comes to mind because that is the area that we concentrated on, and they were in a hurry to get back to Canada. They had to get a few pounds for their motorbikes and this subsequently put us in business in York, in Fossgate in the motorcycle second hand because there were no bikes being made at that time. But one of the few of the Canadians that were left then would come down and help to repair in some instances, and we kept friends with them for a long, long time. And my diary has a list of Canadians [pause] I think that’s about all I can tell you about war time. I still think credit should go to those outposts which were in all weathers, and actually had been doing it since World War One. And so my job was fairly [pause] We were warm. We did have to turn out in all weathers. But I really don’t remember it being a problem. I don’t remember the food being a problem. We, I think we were all healthier. If there was a shop open in York you would hear about it and I’m sure it’s been seen many times you would queue. Sometimes you didn’t know what you were queuing for but you might find it was a pair of shoes and you’d buy them because half of them were a size too small and probably you could never wear them anyway. I do remember successfully buying a pair of boots. And I have told the story about the Canadian who came to tea after queuing for [pause] I would have reasonably, my way of thinking an apple pie that would suit the family happened to be placed in front of him. He ate the lot. They had luxury on their, they had I think sweets and things like that that we wouldn’t. We would get the advantage of in some cases. I just don’t know.
[recording paused]
SP: So Iris, just going back to the Royal Observer Corps and I’m just thinking about, you know the friendships that you got while you were worked there. Was there any in particular that you remember? Did you—
IM: I don’t recall why because this girl called Mary Hollis came from Hebden Bridge whether she was taking the exam for the Observer Corps, and we offered her accommodation. Whichever. She came to live with us and during that course she obviously, I don’t remember her being on the same shifts or cycling together or whatever and that could happen. The only thing I admit my maiden name was Dobson in those days, and the maiden names of two girls I met called Joyce Bosworth and Cecily Parneby, one was from York and one was Tadcaster. They didn’t live very long after the war but I did, I did keep in touch with those people. I don’t recall much social life with them because if I went to a dance it was with my own sister, and you spent quite a lot of time going to dances where you sat like wallflowers round on a chair waiting to be selected and feeling a bit disgruntled if you were not. But as I’ve said before I don’t recall any dangers or ever being approached by drunken crews, or whatever because I don’t think they were particularly. They never knew when they were going to be called back on duty.
SP: Yeah. So there wasn’t much of a social side there obviously because you had your headphones on all the time.
IM: Yes.
SP: So there wouldn’t be much —
IM: Yes.
SP: Chance for chatting.
IM: Well, as I say the headphones were on. You were welded to the headphones so I don’t think there were much, I don’t even remember which we must have done in eight hours stopped for a snack. But I don’t, I can’t even remember there being a canteen or anything. I just don’t remember. I don’t remember how we [pause] I’ve more memory of when we lived in the village of Eldwick, having to put down eggs in Isinglass because if you kept a few hens then you had [pause] it was either more eggs than you knew what to do with or a certain time of the year they didn’t lay them at all. And as I said I’ve no idea. I can remember we did put corn flour in with butter to make it go further. I don’t remember being, felt starved. The only thing I do remember life was so boring there that we couldn’t wait for the winter for the snow to sledge down the, what was from Baildon towards Shipley Glen. What was the main road that would become a sledge track but it was nothing very exciting.
SP: I know one of the things that you were talking about was you had some plane identification charts. Were you trained on those and what were you trained on them for?
IM: Well, we were trained because obviously that was why I passed the exam. Yes. I do remember being trained.
SP: Yeah.
IM: And I was obviously successful because that’s, there is a note in my book about the day I passed the exam.
SP: And what did you need the plane recognition cards for? How would you use those?
IM: Learning how to put the arrows and things on the table with the instructions from the outpost.
SP: So, they’d tell you what type of plane and you’d have to get the right type of plane on there.
IM: Not necessarily.
SP: Right.
IM: No. It could have been, as I say it was H for hostile or so many plus if it was the bombers collecting. And having said before, it had to be a clear night to recognise what kind of aircraft it was unless they were clever enough to go back to the statement I made that the sound. A German plane did definitely sound different but that couldn’t have applied to all planes. So it was a very hit and miss job I would have thought. If you recognise that they’ve to do visual calculating they had to be able to see. So if it was foggy or whatever I’m not sure how that would work, but I’m not familiar with their instruments of calculating heights and things.
SP: So you wouldn’t need to know that information in the plotters room. You just need to know the type so you could put that on the board.
IM: Where it was going —
SP: Yeah
IM: At that particular type and which direction it was going. That was the main thing.
SP: Yeah.
IM: I think initially the Observer Corps was to plot the enemy approaching and the forewarned forearmed to be prepared for them.
SP: Yeah.
IM: It was interesting that it seemed to be more thought of recently than ever it had been, because as far as I was concerned it was something you had to do and it was not terribly exciting but it was, it was the war effort.
SP: And an important part you know. You say not exciting but an important part that would have given out early warnings as you say.
IM: Yes.
SP: And saved, you know lives and the sirens.
IM: It was to give out, it was to give out early warnings.
SP: So a critical part, a critical part of the war, you know, ok.
IM: But I keep telling you if I look at my diary it was a pretty boring life. But it was swimming in the river it was practically every day including midnight sometimes, so and reference to several times of dancing and pictures as it was called in those days. But I think the —
[recording paused]
IM: And having to explain it to people. For example, when we did the picture signing along with the Dambusters, we had, holding up the queue because there were the people wanting your signatures on their book to collect who were not aware of an Observer Corps or what it did.
SP: Yeah.
IM: Recently I think we went to the Armed Forces Day in Scarborough where we met one of the officers from Fylingdales and when I said, ‘You won’t know much about what I did during the war.’ He said, ‘We do exactly that because that in fact is what we are doing with radar now.’ So I suppose it was the forerunner of the forewarned is forearmed.
SP: Ok. So, thank you Iris for the interview today and especially giving people a great insight in to the key role played by the Royal Observer Corps during World War Two and especially your role as a plotter during that time. So, thank you.
IM: Thank you.
[recording paused]
SP: Ok. So we’ve got that. So, forty five minutes. Yeah. So let’s see if, I just need you to sign the form if they’ve got tea on and that. Have a think if you want to, we can have another recording and see if you want to. Or I can let you listen to that. You can listen to it through the headphones. I don’t know how clear it would be for you but it would have to be through headphones.
IM: I’d probably, I’d probably shrink listening to it.
SP: I’m just going to test it and make sure. Are these the only lights you’ve got in here.
IM: No.
SP: That’s a challenge, isn’t it?
IM: No.
SP: I was going to say.
IM: I haven’t got around to putting them on.
Dublin Core
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Title
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Interview with Iris McClements. Two
Creator
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Susanne Pescott
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2018-02-22
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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AMcClementsI180225
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Pending review
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00:46:06 audio recording
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Civilian
Description
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Iris McClements remembers being issued with a gas mask at the age of 11, before the war started. Her family moved to Eldwick when she was about 13 to avoid the bombs. She joined the Women’s Junior Air Corps and recalls being issued with a bucket, stirrup pump, and helmet for fire watching. Iris joined the Royal Observer Corps after passing the entrance exam in 1944. She was based in York and lived on an ex-World War One motor launch. Her role as a plotter was to listen to information from the spotters via headphones and place it on to the plotting table. This included the number of aircraft, direction of travel, height, and whether they were friendly or hostile. This was to give warning of enemy operations or to track operations heading to Germany. She worked eight hour shifts which changed each week. The spotters in the outposts were also watching for crashing aircraft so the crash sites could be identified, and Iris visited a couple of these sites. In her time off she went dancing, swimming and to the cinema.
Contributor
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Nick Cornwell-Smith
Julie Williams
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Yorkshire
England--York
Temporal Coverage
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1944
6 Group
childhood in wartime
crash
firefighting
home front
RAF Elvington
Royal Observer Corps
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1072/11530/APetersC150428.1.mp3
4b4db26db9a98983d38ba4614e6d0b76
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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Peters, Cyril
Cyril Ebenezer Peters
C E Peters
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with Flight Lieutenant Cyril Peters DFC (1331907 Royal Air Force). He served as a flying instructor at the Advanced Flying Training School, RAF South Cerney and flew operations as a pilot with 77 Squadron.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2015-04-28
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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Peters, C
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
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MJ: This is an interview for the International Bomber Command Centre with —
CP: Flight lieutenant.
MJ: Flight Lieutenant Cyril Peters DFC.
CP: Air Force at Cambridge in 1940 when I was nineteen. I was attested, sworn in and given a number 1331907 and sent to Uxbridge for three days assessment training. At the end of my three days at Uxbridge I was informed that I was accepted as U/T aircrew and should wear a white flash in my forage cap. Initial training was done at Scarborough at Number 10 Initial Training Wing, living in the Grand Hotel which the RAF had requisitioned. Fifty two of us on the course for two months. At Scarborough we battled with navigation, instruments, air frames, engines, Morse code — sending and receiving eight or nine words per minute. Guns. I learned to take a machine gun apart to bits and put it back together again. Never ever fired on in anger but I could take one to bits. Air Force law. You name it we studied it as well as running up and down the hills at Scarborough with a full pack and rifle. Ostensibly to instil discipline into us. At the end of the course we were on parade outside the Grand Hotel in three ranks with our kit bags when were marched around to stores. We broke off in single file and walked to the stores and inside we were each given some extra kit which we stuffed in the top of our kit bags and kept our mouths shut. We had long since learned that if you opened your mouth to ask the simplest and most sensible of questions it was deemed you were challenging authority. You were charged with the offence and you would either get seven or fourteen days jankers. So we kept our mouth shut. We were trained from Scarborough.
[Telephone ringing.]
CP: Excuse me.
[Recording paused]
CP: We were trained from Scarborough and after a brief stop in Manchester we arrived at Gourock where we boarded the French liner the Louis Pasteur. In the very early ‘30s the Louis Pasteur had held the Blue Ribband for the fastest crossing of the Atlantic. She was a twenty five knot liner but how many hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of U/T aircrew were on the Louis Pasteur I wouldn’t like to hazard a guess. There were thousands on board. She was bursting at the seams. We steamed off into the North Sea with a cruiser ahead, a destroyer either side as escort and we belted across the North Sea like a dose of salts. In a matter of two and a half, three days we were berthed in Halifax, Nova Scotia, had been trained down to Toronto and after two weeks in Toronto were informed our flying training was to be done in America. In Arizona. At number 4 British Flying Training School. BFTS. A flight sergeant was put in charge and we were put on the train at Toronto for Chicago. When we reached Port Huron which, I think was the last station on the Canadian side the flight sergeant shouted out, ‘Get your civvies out and put them on and put your cap badge in your lapel so I shall know who you,’ so and so’s, ‘are.’ Being a flight sergeant in ‘41 I can assure you he wasn’t interested in so and so’s. His language was far more colourful. So I opened my kit bag and there on the top were civvies which we took out and put on and we put our cap badge in our lapel as chiefy had told us so knew who we so and so’s were. We had to enter America as civilians. The American government weren’t sticking their necks out by entertaining foreign troops in their country at all. We were civilians. When we arrived in Chicago, at the terminal in Chicago from Toronto the [pause] Chicago is like London. Once you go into one terminal and you need to go out in another direction you had to change terminals. The taxis that had been employed to transport us to the other terminal drove on the platform, up to within a foot of the carriage in which we were travelling. And I reckon, with luck I stepped one foot on the platform and with my kitbag I was in the taxi. And lined up in two rows just outside the taxis, the whole length of the platform, motorcycle police wheel to wheel. And as soon as we were all on board the taxis we drove through Chicago with a police escort either side. And when we reached the other terminal the same applied. The taxis drove on the platform to within a yard of the carriage in which we were to travel and again I reckon, with luck, I stepped one foot on the platform with my kit bag — I was in the carriage. And lined up, in two rows just outside of the taxis, the whole length of the platform, motorcycle police wheel to wheel. And as soon as we were all on board the train moved off. Very slickly organised. The train journey across America was three or four days. The train stopped every night at 6 o’clock for thirty minutes so we got out and wandered around. One of the drivers blew his hooter at twenty five past so you ran like a stag and made the train to clamber on because when he started at half past six you knew he wouldn’t stop until the next night at 6 o’clock. You had to be on board. We got off in Arizona at a town called Mesa. Mesa is situated about fifty miles due south of the capital, Phoenix and we were bussed ten to twelve miles out into the desert to 4 BFTS. We were classified as Number 4 course at 4 BFTS. Numbers 1, 2 and 3 had done their previous six, twelve and eighteen week training under the American Air Force at Thunderbird Field and they came in to 4 BFTS just before we arrived. When we arrived there was a hut for the sheriff, for his rifle and twin revolvers. There were four corner accommodation blocks over an area of desert. No paths. No tarmac. No nothing. Anywhere. There was a mess hut because they’d got to feed us and a control tower. That was it. Twelve rows of aeroplanes. Four rows of Harvards — the 86s, the advanced trainer. Four rows of Vultee — the intermediate trainer. And four rows of Stearmans — the primary trainer. And that’s it. This 4 BFTS was a private venture by Southwest Airways Incorporated. And boy oh boy did they ever get their fingers out. In a matter of three or four weeks the area inside the four corner accommodation blocks was grass. On it had been built a cadet lounge with easy chairs and magazines from England which we could enjoy if we had time from our studies. All the paths were laid. A parade ground had been put down. One hangar was completely built and the second was half way up. Considering that was a private venture they really got their fingers out. We started flying September 1941. Fifty two of us. On March the 13th 1942 — thirty two of us. Twenty had been scrubbed for lack of aptitude. We were on parade outside our accommodation block in three ranks. We were marched around to stores. We broke off in single file and walked to stores and inside we were each given a handful of sergeant’s stripes, a pair of wings, made to sign for them and told to bog off and sew them on. A most intriguing and surprising Wings Parade. And the next day we left Mesa for Chicago, Canada and home. Pearl Harbour had occurred early December ’41. From this time America were in an emergency and we were allowed to wear uniform the whole time. In camp, out of camp, anytime. So we were coming back to Chicago in uniform. And boy oh boy what a difference that kick up the backside had made to the Chicagoans. A more friendly, likeable, pleasurable people it would have been difficult to meet. Had I accepted all the two hundred packets of Camels and Lucky Strikes I’d been offered I should have needed a trailer to have towed them in. Very generous. Very warm. Very friendly. We enjoyed, we walked, we enjoyed our walk through to the other terminal. We were, we left Chicago and we were trained in to Canada. To Moncton. And at Moncton we boarded the steamship Banfora. SS Banfora. A pre-war cattle ship. And I say this quite simply because a contingent of the Canadian army marched on the Banfora to come with us to the UK and join their compatriots and with fifteen minutes they walked off. You could stuff it. They certainly weren’t going to travel on such rubbish accommodation, not on your nelly. It didn’t matter to the powers that be. They merely filled it with aircrew. They knew we daren’t mutiny. If we did we would either be shot or clapped in jail. And so we came home in convoy, on the Banfora, a pre-war cattle ship. The American instructors had recommended me for single engine day fighters. Spits and Hurris which is what I wanted. When I got back to the UK the lords at the Air Ministry decided my single engine aeroplanes should be a Tiger Moth and a Magister. I was sent to Number 6 Flying Instructor’s School operating at Scone near Perth in Scotland and within two months I was a qualified flying instructor to teach basic exercises to solo standard. Not to wing standard. Just to solo standard. So we taught straight and level flying, medium turns left and right, gliding turns left and right, climbing turns left and right, take offs and landings and taxiing control on the ground. That was all. And I had eight students. Four in the morning. Four in the afternoon. And detailed to fly five hours every day. The locals at Scone had convinced us that the only way to enjoy their honey was to drink it neat and chase it with a half pint of beer, a whisky beer chaser. And I could buy a whisky beer chaser in Scone mess for eight old pence. That’s just over tuppence in modern parlance. And I was sure, when it came time to my posting from the flying school there was nowhere in England where I could buy a whisky beer chaser for eight old pence so I elected to stay at Scone. I did my first year or so at Scone. It was July the 13th ’43 when I received the King’s pleasure — was appointed to a King’s Commission and posted to 11 EFTS – to 9 EFTS operating at Ansty near Coventry. I arrived at Ansty, reported to my boss, the wing commander flying. He didn’t want me at Ansty. His four flights were full but his two flights at his satellite at Southam needed instructors so I was sent to Southam. I got to Southam and I reported to the CO. The flight lieutenant. He said to me, ‘Here at Southam we’ve got twenty Tiger Moths. Bowsers to feed them. If you want a bed tonight to lay your head on you’d better get in to Southam and find one. If not – hard luck.’ So I pulled into Southam and I got digs with an elderly widow, Mrs Paxton who had living with her her nephew Ted. Ted was a very highly skilled motor mechanic who for years had been servicing all the police vehicles in the area and the police were determined not to lose him. So they made him a war reserve copper which kept him there all the war to do their servicing. To get from Ansty, from Southam dead across country to the village where I was born, Gamlingay which was between Biggleswade and St Neots on the A1, a little bit east of that, if it was a short leave I barely got to Gamlingay in time to turn around and come back. And I said to Ted, ‘I’d better buy myself a vehicle.’ So he said, ‘Well if you go along to the local garage they’ve got two.’ So I went along and they had a 1929 Austin 7 with a part fabric body, reconditioned engine – ten pounds. They had a 1931 Austin 7 with a non-reconditioned engine – five pounds. I knew that my, that the fuel on my vehicle would have would always be at least fifty percent paraffin so I opted for the non-reconditioned engine. Five pounds. Registration number HX 4819. She smoked well but by God she went well. I kept her and a year later when I’d been posted to Yorkshire I sold her for a tenner. So she did me proud did old HX 4819. The Rolls Royce works at Ansty had been completing the building of the Mosquito aircraft before flight testing them and delivering them to squadrons for operational use. And it was quite obvious in very early spring of ’44 that Mosquitoes were far more urgently required than pilots because snap you fingers over night the EFTS was shut down. There wasn’t a Tiger Moth in the vicinity and twenty of us pilots had been posted to an Advanced Flying Unit at South Cerney near Cirencester in Gloucester flying the twin-engined Airspeed Oxford for eighty hours. So we got out but on the bomber trail not the fighter. After AFU the next stage was OTU. Kinloss, the satellite at Forres. Forres, the satellite of Kinloss had just emptied its crews out to the next stage of training so a whole batch of us were posted in to fill it up again. Here we were to fly the Armstrong Whitworth Whitley, the old flying coffin. Flat out, nose down, one twenty indicated if you were lucky. A pre-war bomber. Ye Gods. The second day at Forres we were detailed to report to a large briefing room. Inside were every aircrew trade. Pilots, navs, bombs, wops, gunners. No engineers. We didn’t need engineers on the Whitley. And here we crewed up and I started picking my crew. I saw a pilot officer bomb aimer, six foot three, built like a tank. And I thought Ye Gods what a great asset he’d be if later on you were at a local pub and got in a fix. So I went over to him and I said, ‘You’ve got yourself a skipper. I’m Pete.’ He said, ‘I’m Cliff. Cliff Lamb. And I know a navigator.’ I said, ‘Dig him out.’ So we dived in the motley throng and he dug out a five foot, a pilot officer navigator. Five foot nothing. Slim as a bean pole. Pilot Officer J E E Viella. John Viella. Black hair, black eyes. I said, ‘Ok John. You’ve got yourself a skipper. I’m Pete. What cooks?’ ‘Father ran from Mussolini in the early ‘30s to London. I’ve done all my schooling in London. I’m in my second year of accountancy and I’ve joined the air force. How long have you been flying?’ Which rather took me aback. I said, ‘Since 1941.’ ‘How many hours have you done?’ ‘I don’t know. Twelve, thirteen hundred.’ ‘Well we’d better get ourselves a couple of gunners and a W/op.’ He thought I’d just transferred trades and I would have what anyone normally through the trade would be. About two hundred and fifty hours. I’d been kicking around a bit longer. The three of us saw a gunner on his own by the side of the room holding a bottle and we three agreed anybody holding a bottle, irrespective of what was in it, was recommending himself. So we went over to him and said, ‘You’ve got yourself a crew. I’m Pete. The skipper.’ He said ‘I’m Sergeant GWC Jack from Grantown on Spey. I’m nineteen and I’m a rear gunner.’ We said, ‘Smashing job, you’re in.’ He said, ‘I know a mid-upper and a W/op.’ We said, ‘Go and dig him out.’ So he went and dug out Sergeant Haines, a mid-upper. Sergeant Will the W/op. We had a full crew. Our work on the Whitley was eighty hours. Usually in six, roughly six hour cross country’s day or night. On each cross country there’d be some bombing practice for the bomb aimer and some gunnery practice for the gunners. We had trouble with our wireless op. On every trip after an hour, after two hours he pronounced his radio unserviceable. Took it to bits and spread all the bits over [coughs] sorry.
[recording paused]
CP: And he took his radio to bits and spread it over the floor of the Whitley which meant that from that time the navigator never ever received any help from the radio for his navigation. Thank the lord he was an ace. Give John a minute with his sextant on the sun, moon, any star. He knew all the constellations. Betelgeuse. Cassiopeia. I got an exact fix. Never ever on any operation day or night was I ever off course. Which is why I’m alive today and talking to you in my nineties. He was brilliant without a shadow of a doubt. This culminated in the last trip. We’d landed. We were in dispersal doing our rundown checks and switching off. And I called to Will, ‘Get your things together, pack your bags and bog off. You’re out.’ And his great chum, the mid-upper, Haines said, ‘I’ll go with him.’ Now, when you get rid of two bits of dead wood from your crew at the drop of a hat there’s only one reason. Old Lady Luck is firmly on your shoulders, and she’s been there ever since. We were posted to an Advanced Flying Unit – Marston Moor, where they were flying the four-engined Halifax Mark 2 and Mark 5. Fifty hours. We picked up our engineer, Sergeant Ted Millington. We had, at the end of our six we were posted to 77 Squadron operating at full Sutton on the Halifax. Full Sutton is near Elvington. We arrived at Full Sutton and when you get [pause] — ages, I was twenty three. The navigator John and the engineer Ted were twenty two. Jock in the tail was nineteen. We managed to pick ourselves up a spare wireless op, Ross, Ross Tinian. A flight sergeant. Ross and Cliff, the bomb aimer they were both old men. They were twenty eight. They were old geezers. So we had a crew without a mid-upper gunner but when we got to a squadron every time I operated I had either Flying Officer Harris as my mid-upper or Flying Officer Davis. Davis was an Aussie. And I was lucky. Everytime they either flew with me. On the two occasions when I didn’t have Harris then I had Davis. So I was very lucky. Once you get to a squadron you’re converted to their aircraft and they were flying the Halifax Mark 3 with radials. And the difference between the Mark 2 and 5 and a Mark 3 was phenomenal. I could get a Mark 3 with a full bomb and fuel load up to twenty thousand plus without any trouble at all. I would have been poorly placed to have got a Mark 2 or a 5 up beyond twelve, fourteen thousand feet, without a shadow of doubt. The difference was quite remarkable. After you’re converted you’re detailed to fly second pilot with an experienced crew and I flew with Flight Lieutenant Taylor and his crew. A night operation to the Ruhr, to Essen — six and a half hours. It was Flight Lieutenant Taylor’s twenty ninth trip so he’d got one more to do before he got a fresh job. Then I was detailed to fly with Flying Officer Charlesworth. Again to the Ruhr. A night trip. Six and a half hours to Duisburg. It was Charlesworth’s fifteenth trip so he’d got fifteen more to do before he got a fresh job. And then I was as free as the air to operate with my own crew. And the first target we bombed was Bingen. Bingen was a town way, way south on the Rhine. Its claim to notoriety was the fact it had fairly extensive marshalling yards. And through those marshalling yards regularly, numerous times weekly, came troop trains loaded with reinforcements from Austria and from Munich for the German front line. And a hundred and five of us were sent out this night cock up the contract. Pick off the marshalling yards and apparently intelligence found out for us afterwards we’d done a good job because no more [laughs] no more troop trains ever came through Bingen from then on. At the end of that trip we were in dispersal doing rundown checks and switching it off and I said to myself, ‘Pete if that was an indication of what you’re tour is going to be like. You’ve got it made. You’re going to make this.’ I’d seen little, no flak on the way in to the target, over the target, out from the target. On the way home we hadn’t been molested or searched for or shot at. It had been a piece of doddle. You get stupid thoughts when you’re twenty three and in charge of a bomber don’t you? I’d like now to give you this map. And this was an actual map of a trip that I did on my eighth trip on my tour to an oil refinery in between Bohlen and Dresden and Leipzig. In the Dresden area between Leipzig and Chemnitz. Our boss, Bomber Harris insisted concentrated bombing was vital. He insisted concentrated bombing often swamped defences and once you got defences swamped then the middle and end of an attack could be as accurate as the opening. If you’re going to swamp, if you are going, and four hundred of us were detailed to bomb Bohlen this night. The four hundred of us would go through. The first hundred at seventeen thousand feet. Five minutes. The second hundred, eighteen thousand feet. Five minutes. The third hundred, nineteen thousand feet five minutes. And the rest twenty thousand five minutes. Twenty minutes — the job’s done. Two thousand tonnes of bombs on the ground. When you think that the Germans, the most weight of bombing they dropped on us was three or four hundred tons, you can understand two thousand just swamps them. They had nothing to fight against it at all. And we thought this was smashing. We thought Bomber Harris deserved a pat on the back for that. We thought that was smashing. If you’re going to control your area you’ve got to, if you’re going to concentrate them you’ve got to control them and so Bomber Command laid down the route we were to fly and I must admit considerable thought had been given to these routes that they gave us. We were detailed this night to leave base at nine thousand feet and we left there at nine thousand feet. Flying due south to Reading at one seven five. When we were going to this part of Germany we always turned over Reading. It gave the locals a morale booster if they heard four or five hundred bombers going out. They’d think, ‘By crikey somebody’s getting their backside kicked tonight. We hope the boys come back.’ We hoped we all came back too. From Reading we turned south easterly and we flew over the English coast at C, the French coast at D, to position E. From E we flew due, roughly due easterly to F. Still at 175. Now if you can continue that line from E to F straight on with your fingers it’s making for Frankfurt, Mannheim, Mainz. So if you’re defending Germany and you’ve picked up the stream you think that’s the target and you can get your night fighters up around. Once we get the night fighters up they could only be up two hours and then they had to go home for a drink. We’re going to be four hours to the target and four hours back again. So it’s good if we can get them up. But long before we get anywhere near Frankfurt, Mannheim, Mainz we turn north easterly to G. Now, on this leg we change from 160 [pause] from 175 to 160 so we’re climbing. We’re climbing to bombing height and so you can say I’m at seventeen thousand feet before I get to G. And G is actually just about, if you move it with your finger is going for Kassel. Fresh target. Before we get anywhere near Kassel at G we turn a little bit more to the east to H. Still at 160. But if you follow a route from G to H with your fingers it’s making for Leipzig. Fresh target. And this was how it was done. To fool up the German defences. We’re changing. We’re going to — because after H we turn north easterly and we’re actually making for Berlin. And he were always dodgy about Berlin. But long before we got anywhere near Berlin at I we turned just below due east and to J. And here we’re just north of Leipzig so that there’s no danger and then we turn on our bombing run to K. At 160, Cliff, the bomb aimer sat in the seat on my right all the trip until we got to the target area when he slid down, went to the nose of the aeroplane. Got his bomb sight ready. And his job now — he had, two jobs, two things. First to identify the target. He’d seen stacks of photographs and pictures of the target at main briefing and the wing commander had given tremendous insight into it. He now had to select it on the ground and pick it out. Once he’d got it picked out then he had to make sure it crossed his bomb sight on the centre line to the aiming point when he pressed the button. Bombs gone. As the skipper, once you heard, ‘Bombs gone,’ your natural inclination was to shove on full power and belt the hell out of there. But that wasn’t possible because when he, when he pressed the button, bombs gone he activated the camera and the camera took five pictures one after the other across the target in thirty seconds. During those thirty seconds you were allowed to increase your speed by ten. That was a big morale booster I can assure you. Once you got an indication from your dash that the camera had finished then it was full power up to two hundred and belt the hell out of there. Once we left the target our speed is now two ten and after five minutes from the target we’d lower height to seven thousand feet. And we fly back over Germany at seven thousand feet until we come to Frankfurt, Mannheim, Mainz where there’s light flak to twelve so we climb up to fourteen. Keep at fourteen until we’re well clear and then we let down to eight thousand feet. And we fly at eight thousand feet via Reading back to the Humber. At the Humber we let down to two thousand feet and join Full Sutton and land. My trip was a little bit different. We set course at nine thousand feet for Reading. We turned across the English coast at C, the French coast at D, to position E. From E we flew to F at one seven five. From F we got our climbing one sixty. And at seventeen thousand feet we level. And after G the starboard inner engine decided to pack up. There was no flak. No night fighters. It was a pure mechanical failure. So it was switch off, fuel off, feather the prop. Speed now back to one forty and I needed left rudder to keep straight. I now had the option of coming back. Dropping down four thousand feet, turning one eighty degrees and coming home on my tod with a full bomb load. I hadn’t got a full petrol load. Of the just under two thousand gallons I started with I’d probably used up three fifty, four hundred but I’d still got sixteen hundred gallons left which was a lot of fuel. If they couldn’t pick me up to predict me they’d alerted a couple of fighters to come up and shoot me down. So I said to the crew, ‘I suggest we stay with the stream, using them for cover.’ When there are four hundred of you every radar screen is covered on the ground. Swamped. And instead of bombing at H plus 4 which was my time on target we’d bomb at H plus twenty at the end of the attack. And instead of bombing at seventeen thousand feet we’d bomb at fourteen thousand feet. And the crew said, ‘Ok skip. Press on.’ Whenever I’d done practice flying at Full Sutton at two and three engines it had been in the Halifax with a couple of hours of fuel on board. The boys don’t fully bomb up and fully tank up an aeroplane for you to go and play with obviously. So I’d never flown one under this configuration at this height and I boobed. Instead of getting there at H plus twenty we were twenty minutes late. We got there nearer H plus forty. But our boss’s theory was right. Defences had been swamped. If there were a half a dozen gunners firing at us that was all. And that was in scare mongering. Cliff picked to go on the ground and bombed it. We took our five pictures. No question of changing speed. I was stuck at one forty and so we turned away and when we came to let down to seven thousand feet we were still at one forty. I remembered that when we were bombing the North German ports Wilhelmshaven, who were Hamburg. We had crossed the North Sea at five hundred feet above the water. When you’ve got three or four hundred bombers, each with four fans whipping around flying at five hundred feet the prop wash is a bit disturbing. So you thanked the lord when you got near the Frisian Islands and you climbed up to bombing height and stayed there. So I thought if we stayed under bombing height like that it might be an idea to go down lower than seven thousand feet. And I went down to four thousand feet. And I must admit the whole way back even through Frankfurt, Mannheim, Mainz nobody fired a gun at us. We were completely clear the whole time. We stayed on the course that they’d laid, command had laid down for us and we were probably in the Frankfurt, Mannheim, Mainz area when the starboard outer, I presume it had been keeping watch on the starboard inner all night thinking Ye Gods he has had a night off. I’ve worked my socks off for this driver. I’m fed up. I’m going to pack up but to let him know I’m going to pack up I’ll make sure there’s a slight explosion and a sheet of flame from the starboard outer which there was. And the driver recognised it was going to pack up so it was switch off, fuel off, feather the prop and I pressed the graviner button. I’d got four graviner buttons. One for each engine. And it flooded the engine with foam which I hoped would douse all flames and it did. Speed was now back to one thirty and I’d got on full left rudder. My left knee locked. That was one improbable out of the way and I controlled the attitude of the aeroplane with power. If I put on too much power the strength of the engines rolled me and turned me to the right. If I took off too much power I rolled and turned to the left. So it was a case of juggling. We ran into cloud. Clouds are very handy. You can hide in it. We knew night fighters were around but this cloud contained icing to the extent that I was rather concerned if we stayed in it indefinitely the build up might be awkward. So we had to get out of it. To go below it might be a problem because it could be on the ground. So it was a case of climbing out of it. To climb I needed power. So it was a case increasing power very slightly so that I could still keep the wings level and keep straight and wait. Wait for my slight increase of power to give me a slight increase of speed, five and whip that five into height ten feet and wait for my five. Another ten feet. There was no panic. We were three seventy, three hundred and seventy five four hundred miles to England, it would take me a good two and a half hours at least to get there so there so was no hurry. And we uched, jigged, gripped our way up to six thousand five hundred feet. We were clear of cloud and I reckoned six five would be ok to cross the drink to UK. So we levelled at six five. I now checked with the nav, with Johnny. I was a bit concerned at the time we’d taken to uch up to six. And he confirmed what I thought, we were nearing the front line. This thought was under the auspices of the trigger happy American gunners and our own gunners, neither of whom liked aero engines. They shot, the American gunners shot them out of the sky irrespective of whose they were. Our own gunners were a bit more selective. So I called the W/op and said, ‘Break the seal on the IFF and switch it to distress.’ In his compartment he had a six inch square back box. The IFF. Identification Friend or Foe. It had a switch that was off, that was wired off and on the wire was a seal. And the wireless ops were warned by the signals leaders back at Full Sutton that if on any trip they interfered with that seal on the strip they’d be court martialled. But this was an emergency. Ross broke the seal, switched it on and immediately, way on the port horizon came three airfield sandra lights. The searchlights at the corner of the airfield intertwining. And on the starboard horizon three more. These were two emergency airfields. That was Woodbridge in Suffolk and that was Manston in Kent. They had picked up our emergency drill and lit themselves up. I made for Manston. When I reached Manston I did the circuit. When I was nicely placed on base leg I throttle back, did a glide approach and landing on the amber runway. Once we were on the ground I used my inner engine to get me through the red runway on to the peri track when I stopped and switched off. Waited for a tractor to come and hook on and tow us in, which they did. They picked us up, took us, debriefed, fed us, bedded. Sleeping in full flying kit that night I think we kept warm. They got us up in the morning. Fed us. Gave us a warrant to London, across to Kings Cross and up to York. And when we walked on the platform at Kings Cross station of the York train we had a bit of a snozzle. The very first compartment we came to, there was no corridor, had a great big notice filling one window completely — “Reserved for crashed aircrew.” And this got the billy goat of our rear gunner. He snatched the door open, ripped it off the window and tore it to shreds and threw it down. ‘What the hell are they talking about? We haven’t had a crash landing. We made a normal landing. Get their facts right.’ ‘It doesn’t matter Jock. We’ve got a compartment. Let’s get in.’ We were all carrying our parachutes. When you’d signed for your parachute you didn’t leave it out of your sight. If you didn’t hand it back in it could cost you sixty or seventy quid to replace and that was a lot of money then. We were carrying — we were in full flying kit. We got in, dumped our stuff, got to York and we were picked up. Taken to Full Sutton. When we reached full Sutton my immediate boss, the wing commander flying, wanted a full report of our sortie which I gave him. And three weeks later I was in the mess and I picked up the Daily Mail, and on the, on the front page were headlines, “Two engines failed but he went on.” And when I saw it I thought well goodness me some other geezer’s having a bash at this. But reading the article it was talking of Flight Lieutenant Peters and his trip over Germany. And some three weeks later I was called in to the CO’s office of group captains. Inside was our AOC, the group captain and my immediate boss Wing Commander Forbes. And the AOC pinned a bit of this ribbon under my wings, congratulated me and wished me a safe and satisfactory tour as did the group captain and Wing Commander Forbes. And that was it. Many many many many many many many months later my Distinguished Flying Cross arrived by post with an apologetic letter from the king. He was sorry he couldn’t hand it to me personally. He was far too busy. Probably handing out awards to sportsmen. Anyway, he sent it by post and he wished me a long and happy life. And considering I’m now in my ninety fourth year and still pressing on he was right.
[recording paused]
After leaving the air force I went into teaching. I taught until 1952 when I returned to flying with air work at Royal Air Force Digby flying the Tiger Moth. After a year flying Tiger Moths I returned to the air force in which I served for fifteen years. Finishing at Royal Air Force College, Cranwell. I then returned to education in Sleaford and finished up my education in ’86 when I retired and I’ve been retired ever since.
MJ: This is the end of the interview with Flight Lieutenant Cyril Peters DFC on the 29th at 12:30.
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Title
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Interview with Cyril Peters
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Mick Jeffery
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2015-04-28
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
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Sound
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APetersC150428
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Pending review
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00:44:32 audio recording
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eng
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Description
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Cyril Peters joined the Royal Air Force at Cambridge in 1940 and trained as a pilot in Canada and the United States. On his return to Great Britain he served as an instructor before flying operations as a pilot with 77 Squadron. He became a teacher after the war.
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Canada
Great Britain
Germany
United States
England--Kent
England--Yorkshire
Arizona--Phoenix
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Bingen (Rhineland-Palatinate)
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Essen
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Wilhelmshaven
New Brunswick--Moncton
Nova Scotia--Halifax
Arizona
New Brunswick
Nova Scotia
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
4 BFTS
77 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
aircrew
British Flying Training School Program
Distinguished Flying Cross
Flying Training School
Halifax
Halifax Mk 2
Halifax Mk 3
Halifax Mk 5
Harvard
Initial Training Wing
military service conditions
Oxford
pilot
RAF Ansty
RAF Elvington
RAF Full Sutton
RAF Manston
RAF Marston Moor
Tiger Moth
training
Whitley
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1247/16364/PLeckieW1901.1.jpg
66b1611784af6fa1e98248f944c26165
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1247/16364/ALeckieW190301.1.mp3
185254f66ba9edae008767004775a37b
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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Leckie, Bill
William Leckie
W Leckie
Description
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Two oral history interviews with Bill Leckie (1921 - 2021). He flew operations as a pilot with 216 and 77 Squadrons.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2019-03-01
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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Leckie, W
Transcribed audio recording
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Transcription
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AM: Right. Bill, good afternoon. How are you?
BL: Fine. Kind of alright.
AM: Right.
BL: Kind of alright. Not that brilliant.
AM: Right.
BL: I’ve just come back from, I had a couple of days with our son and we spent two full days as it were travelling.
AM: Right.
BL: And they took us to one of my old haunts where I used to spend as a young boy on my holidays in the summertime because it’s where my granny lived.
AM: Right.
BL: So I spent summer with my granny down at the seaside. Down in a place called Drummore which is in Galloway.
AM: Right.
BL: It supposedly has the name of being the most southerly village in Scotland.
AM: Right. And it’s called —
BL: Drummore.
AM: Drummore. Right. I know where it is now.
BL: There’s another one in Ireland, Northern Ireland but it’s got a different spelling.
AM: Right.
BL: But it’s still Dromore. Yes.
AM: Right. Let’s check actually.
[recording paused]
AM: Right. I’m sure that will be fine. I’ll put it further over. There we are. Ok. Right. So we were, so there so it was a bit sluggish to fly.
BL: Oh yes. It was but it wasn’t always a fast aircraft, plane but it was nice to fly.
AM: What about the landing in water? What was that like?
BL: Well, it was different to landing on land not that you’re cared of any different but you’re long the floor any period because it was such a long runway.
AM: Right.
BL: But, but you still had a certain distance to land in as I say but most of the landings float landings and again as I say I enjoyed flying. It was, I was sorry I didn’t get on to a squadron. So when I finished the conversion that way and then had to go back up to Canada. Up to Prince Edward Island to do a reconnaissance course. You had to do that as part of your training as a conversion for Coastal Command.
AM: Right. You said a reconnaissance course. Was that in the air?
BL: Yes.
AM: And was that also in the Catalina?
BL: No. Oh no.
AM: No.
BL: We didn’t do any Catalina flying once away from Pensacola.
AM: Right.
BL: That was the end of it. We went on to Stearmans.
AM: Oh right.
BL: And I had to do another course in that way. It was a funny way. A terrible waste of time that was. It took me nearly four years to get to a squadron.
AM: Yes. [unclear] yeah.
BL: I came back then but I came back to Harrogate and I was stationed in Harrogate for I think about six or eight weeks.
AM: Right.
BL: Waiting to get a posting.
AM: And presumably at this stage you assumed you were going to go to Flying Boats.
BL: We were still supposed to be going. That’s why we were being held up in Harrogate.
AM: Right.
BL: Waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting. It was ok but I’d rather have been on and get on. But anyway, it didn’t happen and I did another course and this was on the [pause] I ended up on the early Chipmunks. We went down [pause] Oh, it’s the Central Flying School now. What do you call it down there?
AM: Was it the Empire Flying School or —
BL: Possibly it was, no it wouldn’t be Empire Flying School. It was. My memory is elusive.
AM: And whereabouts was this?
BL: This was still in the Harrogate area.
AM: Oh you’re still in the Harrogate area. Right.
BL: Yeah. As I was —
AM: So it’s in Yorkshire.
BL: Yes. It was all classroom work.
AM: Right.
BL: Until eventually I got posted to [pause] where was it? I’ve forgotten some of that.
AM: Don’t worry.
BL: The next thing that comes to my mind I was posted up to the north of Scotland up to a place called Forres.
AM: Right.
BL: And we had to do flying there. Again, I was in for Bomber Command and lost the Coastal Command. Come out of, been posted out of that and into Bomber Command.
AM: And when you were in Forres what aircraft were you flying there?
BL: When I got to the end of [unclear] [pause] I’ve forgotten.
AM: Was this part of the Conversion Unit to Bomber Command?
BL: I guess it would be. Would be [pause] no, I’ve come to a stop.
AM: So when did you move on to the Halifax?
BL: What?
AM: How did that come about?
BL: Well, that came about after the posting back down south when I was posted to York.
AM: Right.
BL: And from York I stayed around York all the time. I never left 4 Group.
AM: Right.
BL: Because that was the Halifax Group and I was always on the Halifax and I stopped there.
AM: So where did you, where did you join up? Or when did you join up with your crew? And how did you go about selecting your crew?
BL: I can’t remember the name of the place but I think it was probably Harrogate.
AM: Right.
BL: And we just sort of, you know mingled around and you know the lads who were looking for a skipper and I’d be looking for somebody and you’d get talking to somebody. You’d ask them if they were looking for a skipper and I mean if thought to yourself well he would do and the crew, he’s in, and if he said ok well then that was it.
AM: Right.
BL: That was to start you off. You picked your own crew.
AM: And did you have a sort of mixed nationalities on your crew?
BL: It started off that I was going to have, try to get a Scottish crew.
AM: Right.
BL: And I managed to a point up ‘til finding a wireless operator. I couldn’t find a Scottish wireless operator.
AM: Right.
BL: But the age old happened when I finally made my decision on a chap the following day a lad came up, a Scottish lad came up to me to say, Are you looking for a Scottish the wireless operator?’ And I said, ‘Yes, I was up until today.’ And I’d already agreed with the other chap and he was an English chap. Nice chap. I mean I liked him well enough but that would have been the whole crew would have been Scottish and —
AM: Right. That would have been pretty unusual I would have thought.
BL: Might have been. Yes. Might have been. And so my wife, who wasn’t my wife then. We were just engaged. But she bought scarves. Little Scottish scarves there. The Clan MacGregor scarves. And each one of the crew got one.
AM: Right.
BL: She bought a scarf for each of them.
AM: I have to ask you why was it the Clan MacGregor?
BL: Because that’s my Clan.
AM: Right. Right.
I’d accepted the Clan MacGregor.
Right. And everybody was quite happy to wear the MacGregor tartan then.
BL: Oh, I never thought any the [unclear] [laughs]
AM: So, so what was the sort of [conversion paid] with your crew like? I mean presumably you were probably the oldest in the crew. Was that right?
BL: I would say.
AM: Yeah.
BL: I would.
AM: And you must have also been very unusual to be engaged.
BL: Yeah. Well, I’ve, I’d known my wife for, or my future wife when I was seventeen to eighteen and that. She was seventeen and I was eighteen.
AM: Right.
BL: When we first went out on holiday.
AM: Right.
BL: And we just stayed together. I wouldn’t get married. We didn’t get married until after I’d finished. We just stayed engaged.
AM: Until, when you say after. You mean after the war.
BL: After the war. Yes. Right.
AM: Right.
BL: Yeah.
AM: And was that fairly commonplace for aircrew to delay getting married until after the war?
BL: I wouldn’t say it was commonplace. No. In fact, I think it was possibly the other way.
AM: Right. It was what you both were comfortable with.
BL: Yes. We were. My wife was of the same mind as myself. There was no point dead [unclear] the way I was. I didn’t know how long I could last and she would have been a widow. So, but it never came to it but we stayed friends. I don’t know.
AM: So after your conversion period with your crew you went to your first squadron. And what was your first squadron?
BL: 77.
AM: 77. So that was at, was that at Elvington?
BL: It was actually but I only spent about ten days there.
AM: Right.
BL: And we were all moved to Full Sutton.
AM: Right.
BL: To give Elvington over to the Free French.
AM: Right.
BL: The Free French squadron went to Elvington.
AM: Right. So how did you feel about leaving Elvington for Full Sutton?
BL: Didn’t like it.
AM: Why was that?
BL: Well, Elvington was a peacetime station. Full Sutton was new.
AM: Right.
BL: It had just been put up for the wartime so it wasn’t the same. Wasn’t the same accommodation.
AM: Right.
BL: But it was ok. We liked everything else but I mean I preferred Elvington.
AM: So tell me about some of the sorties you flew from Elvington or, or Full Sutton while you were still in Bomber Command.
BL: I feel —
AM: Do you want me to stop it for a wee bit?
BL: Ah huh.
AM: You can have a wee rest anyway.
[recording paused]
BL: [unclear] up to a point I think that was the last flight I did.
AM: Ok.
BL: That was five hours and thirteen minutes and —
AM: Just a wee —
BL: It was a raid. It was just part of a raid.
AM: Ok. I’ve switched it on. Bill, tell me just, tell me just a little bit more about your time on 77 Squadron at Full Sutton and what the kind of operational missions that you did there. What were the main types of target?
BL: Well, according to one that is printed in here they were flying bomb sites.
AM: Right.
BL: The first one I visited was at the forest of Nieppe in France. And the next one again that was the same one. Nieppe, in the same place. That same one. So that was twice I visited that. On the 5th and then on the 6th of August.
AM: And were these day sorties or night sorties?
BL: Day sorties.
AM: Right.
BL: Yeah. They were day sorties or was it a night sortie? Which was something to do with the German Army.
AM: Right.
BL: It was [unclear]
AM: Would that be —
BL: France.
AM: Would that be supporting the invasion troops?
BL: That was on August the 7th.
AM: Right. ’44.
BL: ’44.
AM: Yeah.
BL: And then I did another trip back to France. Back to a different oil storage dump. And the next target was [unclear] There was one on the 9th. The next one was on the 11th. It was the railway repair shops. And then on the 12th I went to a place, a Flying Bomb factory at Russelsheim.
AM: Right. Before you, if the sorties were you given on any briefing on the flying bomb itself and what it’s role was or —
BL: No, we never. Oh no, we knew about the bomb, what the flying bomb was alright but apart from that —
AM: It was just a target.
BL: it was a target.
AM: Right. And particularly on the day sorties did you see any enemy fighters or —
BL: No. I was, no. Not at all.
AM: Right.
BL: No. Never intercepted.
AM: And what about the flak on the night sortie to Russelsheim?
BL: Yes. There was some we had. I don’t know where it was. We went out to the bombing more or less the bombing altitude was high bombed then after we had bombed we made a crash dive to get down to five hundred feet or a thousand feet.
AM: Right.
BL: And came back. Low level flying all the way. That’s what we did.
AM: Tell me before you went on a mission like your last one to Russelsheim what was the sort of feeling like in the squadron and what was the attitude of people like?
BL: I don’t remember.
AM: No. What about your own crew? How did they —
BL: Like myself I think they accepted the fact that it was part of the job.
AM: Right.
BL: We were going.
AM: Right. And —
BL: I mean we’d never hear until we went to the briefing room where we were going.
AM: Right.
BL: We didn’t know the target. So we went to the briefing for it.
AM: And by this stage in the war were you, were you aware of the extent of Bomber Command losses or was it something that wasn’t talked about?
BL: I’d say that we were aware of it alright. Yes. It was because the posting came through to go elsewhere and I was quite happy to go.
AM: Right.
BL: Because I was getting out and being posted overseas. I knew that.
AM: Right.
BL: I was going overseas. I didn’t know when but it just it turned out it was Italy.
AM: And how, how did you find it’s difficult to remember this perhaps but what was the morale like on the station at Long Sutton at this stage of the war? Was it fairly buoyant or —
BL: Well, I would say it was. As I say I wasn’t one for, I wasn’t one for mixing.
AM: Right.
BL: So —
AM: So what, what was mess life like for instance?
BL: Well, it was just you went and you had your meal and chatted to someone or other and you got to know them.
AM: And what rank were you at this stage?
BL: I would be a sergeant.
AM: Right.
BL: At that stage.
AM: And by the way were all your crew NCOs or did you have —
BL: Yes. No, I had no officer crew.
AM: Right.
BL: No.
AM: And was that, how did that compare to the rest of the squadron? Were there a number of all NCO?
BL: No idea.
AM: No. No. I don’t think I would. So I mean the sergeant’s mess was obviously a kind of lively place. Would you —
BL: Oh yes. That’s right. Yes. Well, I mean I went right through from sergeant all the way up to flight lieutenant in the end.
AM: Right.
BL: So that was just the way it worked.
AM: So you said you were selected to leave 78 Squadron and go overseas. How did that come about? Do you remember? Was that a surprise or —?
BL: Oh, it was a surprise. Yes. What it was, it wasn’t a surprise entirely but it was a surprise as to where I went. I didn’t know where I went. It was just it was put on the notice board that there was two or three crews they wanted to go overseas. And I thought to myself well this is just, you know being in the UK and in the bombing stream you were a sitting target all the time and it was, it was danger. As much danger up there from other aircraft [unclear] as from the anti-aircraft so I thought that was kind of a thing. Time to get out of it and get overseas which is what happened.
AM: Right. And did you go overseas as a crew? Did your whole crew go with you?
BL: Yes.
AM: Right. And where did you go to?
BL: Started off in Naples.
AM: Right.
BL: And then we were sent from Naples to Brindisi.
AM: Right.
BL: And that’s where we stayed.
AM: Right.
BL: Until we finished the operation.
AM: Right. And what sort of sorties on the understanding you were no longer technically part of Bomber Command but you were still flying a bomber aircraft. The Halifax.
BL: Oh yes. That was the Halifax.
AM: Right. And what, what were these sorties?
BL: Well, the sorties were just to different parts mainly in Yugoslavia that the partisans occupied for a certain time.
AM: Right.
BL: But they were well within the German lines. Behind the German lines.
AM: Right.
BL: But there was, no there was never much activity in the German lines at all.
AM: And were you flying these as a single aircraft or as a —
BL: A single aircraft.
AM: Right. And what, what sort of things were you dropping?
BL: Oh, mainly ammunition or rifles and food as well.
AM: Right.
BL: General. General supply aircraft so you would.
AM: And were these dropped, were these drops from medium altitude or relatively —
BL: Yes.
AM: Right.
BL: About eight, eight hundred to seven hundred feet.
AM: Oh, seven hundred feet. So that was quite low really.
BL: Oh yes. I had to come down to eight hundred. Even came down to five hundred.
AM: And was this by day or by night?
BL: Sometimes by night but usually if it was by night it would be by moonlight.
AM: Right. Because presumably you had to try and drop really accurately.
BL: Well, yes. You had to do your best.
AM: Right.
BL: It was up to the bombing run really.
AM: Right.
BL: You know.
AM: And this was all in 148 Squadron.
BL: No. No. That was in 77.
AM: 77 Squadron, sorry. Right. And that’s all still in the Halifax.
BL: Oh yes.
AM: Was it the same version of the Halifax that you had flown on as a bomber pilot?
BL: Yes, it was.
AM: Right.
BL: But we soon changed to the, well you might say the Mark 2 Halifax.
AM: Right.
BL: But I did fly the Mark 1 Halifax for quite some time. That was the one with the triangular tail.
AM: Right.
BL: Instead of the square tail.
AM: Right. Ok.
BL: Yeah. And it wasn’t so good for stability.
AM: Right.
BL: Putting on the square rudders at the end when they made the change helped a lot.
AM: Right. And had they changed the engines as well at that stage or —
BL: No.
AM: That same engine.
BL: That came later.
AM: Right.
BL: [unclear]
AM: Right. And as well as dropping supplies and [unclear] did you drop any personnel?
BL: Yes. Joes as called them. Yes.
AM: What did you call them?
BL: Joes.
AM: Joes. Right.
BL: Joes.
AM: And did you have anything to do with them or were they just cargo.
BL: The person who had to deal with them was the chap who was the mid-upper gunner in the original crew. He was a dispatcher. He was known as the dispatcher.
AM: Right.
BL: He did a dispatcher’s course.
AM: Right.
BL: Special area in where these chaps who were coming in and they were going to be dropped you know by parachute so most of them had never done any parachute training you see so they had to be trained.
AM: Right.
BL: And so our dispatcher had to go along on a course.
AM: Right.
BL: A training course because he had to see them out and he was the one who organised them for getting out of the aircraft.
AM: And was it usually just one of these Joes or did you sometimes drop a couple of them?
BL: Oh, we dropped three or four of them.
AM: Right.
BL: Sometimes. Yeah.
AM: Right. Gosh. That must have been fascinating to say the least.
BL: I must say I never actually saw any of them.
AM: No.
BL: You know, the only one, I mean the dispatcher was the one who would speak to them generally speaking but very often they were local people. They weren’t really English speakers.
AM: Right. So they would, they would be Serbs or Croats or —
BL: Aye, could be. But it was the dispatcher who had to speak or did speak with them. None of the other members of the crew were involved.
AM: Right.
BL: And there was only one instance I remember where he talked, the chappie he had been speaking to could speak any English and we knew more or less where we were going. You know, once we had been given a target and it seemed according to this chap we were passing the town where we were going to be dropping this chap and he lived in that town and his wife was still living there.
AM: Gosh.
BL: And there were some lights in the town funnily enough. It wasn’t completely blacked out. And so we were dropping, dropping some on the hillside on a plateau.
AM: Really.
BL: The village he was heading for was down the road.
AM: Right.
BL: Eventually, well not eventually but when we came back [unclear] but they didn’t make it and they complained that we dropped them not in the exact spot. But we dropped them where we were told to drop them and the reason that was given, nothing was officially said but the reason that we got to know about the fact that we dropped them as far as the lad said we dropped him in the wrong place and that was done on purpose because they didn’t want the Germans to know there was anybody down on the ground who could see there was going to be a drop in this area. So that was that. So the actual dropping spot wasn’t known until we were briefed that night to go.
AM: Right. Right.
BL: So —
AM: And did you do any, any drops over southern Germany or —
BL: I couldn’t tell you that.
AM: No. I remember reading somewhere —
BL: I don’t think so.
AM: I remember reading somewhere that you were involved with a drop that took place near Berchtesgaden.
BL: Yeah. No. I didn’t do anything like that. No. We were in the Balkan Army.
AM: Right.
BL: That was all that we were in.
AM: Right. I think somebody said you were involved in this project called, which became the film, “The Monument Men.” Is that correct?
BL: Oh yes. They did portray that. Yes.
AM: Right. So what happened with that? What was the story behind it?
BL: Oh, well it was to do with the Germans had, had captured a lot of stuff. Hitler’s souvenirs or whatever you call it and they wanted to come through. I mean this was at the time when Jerry was in retreat, you know, moving back. And they were supposed to destroy a collection of paintings and one thing, and artifacts and one thing or another which were being held in this area. And the chaps we were dropping they were going down to safeguard these things.
AM: Right.
BL: They were being dropped in the areas so we dropped them in the area and they then made their way down in to the village and I think, I don’t know what really happened after that but they was lads that we had dropped down. They were supposed to be going down to and they were going to take over and [unclear] or something. I don’t know. Something to do with safeguarding these supposedly at the point priceless things that Hitler had, you know —
AM: Requisitioned.
BL: Requisitioned. Yes.
AM: Right.
BL: Yeah.
AM: Gosh. So you finished the war still in in the Balkans flying.
BL: Oh yes. Yes.
AM: Right.
BL: I was posted from there down to, you know Italy. Down to Brindisi.
AM: Right.
BL: And what was lifelike in Brindisi at that stage of the war?
AM: Very [pause] very easy I think. There was nothing much different about it and we sort of in some ways you made your own amusement and whoever your friends were and as I say I was much of a loner. I didn’t go out much at all. So I didn’t go down into the town of Brindisi like some of the lads would go down there and they didn’t know where they were by the time the night went out. I’m afraid that was never my style but —
BL: So what was it like the sort of the day or the couple of days around when the war actually came to an end? What was the atmosphere like?
AM: Well, I wasn’t, I wasn’t in the squadron. I was on 216 Squadron at that time.
BL: Right. So you’d moved on from the Halifax.
AM: I’d moved on from the Halifax. I was flying a Dakota.
BL: Right. And —
AM: And that was immediate.
BL: Right. So you moved before the end of the war.
AM: Oh I did. Yes.
BL: From Brindisi to Italy.
AM: Yes. That’s right.
BL: Right. Right.
AM: So that’s quite a change going from the Halifax to the —
BL: Oh of course. I quite enjoyed that. I did quite a lot of flying in the Dakota anyway.
AM: Right.
BL: Before that.
AM: So when the war came to an end you were in Italy.
BL: Yes. Maintenance.
AM: And you were a flight lieutenant by now. Is that right?
BL: No. I was a pilot officer.
AM: Pilot officer. Right. Sorry. Right. So where were you when you were commissioned? Were you in Italy or in Egypt?
BL: Italy.
AM: Italy. Right.
BL: I think. [pause] Yes. I was in Italy because I had to go across to Algiers to get my uniform.
AM: Right. Was it your uniform was made in Algiers? Your uniform was made in Algiers.
BL: I don’t know about being made there but —
AM: But that’s where you had to go.
BL: That’s where the stores were.
AM: Gosh. So you took an aeroplane over to get your uniform.
BL: I had to go.
AM: That’s brilliant.
BL: As a passenger.
AM: Right.
BL: Yeah.
AM: So how long did you spend in Egypt on 216 Squadron?
[pause]
AM: I can switch this off for a minute. We can have a wee rest.
[recording paused]
AM: Bill, I know you’re looking at your logbook at the moment but what was the total number of operational hours that you flew?
BL: Two hundred and sixty in round figures.
AM: Gosh. So when you retired from the Air Force you were flying —
BL: I didn’t. I was in the Reserve and stayed on in the Reserve and I would do weekend flying.
AM: And what aeroplane was that on?
BL: That would be on the Tiger Moth.
AM: Right. Right.
BL: Later on I went on to Chipmunks.
AM: Right. Which must have been quite good fun.
BL: Oh yes. It was a much improved. Much improved.
AM: And just to conclude tell me a little bit about the latter part of your life because you went back into professional flying didn’t you?
BL: Oh, I did. Yes. I did. Yeah.
AM: And what did you do?
BL: I was flying the thing it was just a Transport Squadron. Not a squadron. It was a, I was down for flying at the weekends when I first went back having finished in the Air Force as such. But I went to [pause] to Perth and we got there at the weekends and flying up there and did some link work for one thing. And then eventually a staff pilot’s job came up which I applied for and got and that started my career.
AM: Right.
BL: And started flying fully on the full time in Perth.
AM: And which, which company did you go to fly with?
BL: Airwork.
AM: Airworks?
BL: Ahum.
AM: Right. And after that?
BL: That was it.
AM: Right. Did you not move to Aer Lingus?
BL: Oh yes. Sorry. Yes. I left Airwork and went to Aer Lingus. That’s right.
AM: Right. And what, what was your, what was your final aeroplane with Aer Lingus?
BL: The three hundred. The Boeing.
AM: Boeing 737.
BL: The Boeing 737. That was it. Yeah.
AM: Right. And that was your, if you were to, this is a terrible question but if you’d to fly one aeroplane again what would you choose to fly?
BL: What would I choose to fly? [pause] Well, I always enjoyed flying a large aeroplane. That’s what I wanted to do and what I got to do. So I suppose you might as well say the [pause] I think possibly the Dakota would be the aircraft —
AM: Right.
BL: [unclear] to fly because it was a nice aeroplane to fly. Very tricky to land but not much. You could make a mess of it. So, you could. So I’d say the Dakota.
AM: Right. Well, Bill Leckie, Captain Bill Leckie, Flight Lieutenant Bill Leckie, thank you very much indeed.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Interview with Bill Leckie. One
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Alastair Montgomery
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
2019-03-01
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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ALeckieW190301, PLeckieW1901
Format
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00:38:00 incomplete audio recording
Description
An account of the resource
Bill would spend his school holidays with his grandmother in Scotland. He went to St Edward Island in Canada to do a reconnaissance course, after which he went to Harrogate to await posting. He did another course on Chipmunks before being posted to Scotland, leaving Coastal Command to join Bomber Command working on the Halifax. His crew, which joined 77 Squadron at Elvington, were all Scottish. They mainly did operations to Yugoslavia dropping weapons, food and occasionally personnel by parachute. The crew went overseas south of Naples. He was posted to Brindisi and then spent time in Egypt with 216 Squadron. Bill ended his RAF career as a pilot officer and was commissioned while in Italy. Post-war he got a full-time pilot’s job with Airworks before moving to Aer Lingus, flying Boeing 737.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Canada
Prince Edward Island
Great Britain
Scotland
England--Harrogate
England--Yorkshire
Italy
Italy--Naples
Italy--Brindisi
Contributor
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Sue Smith
Julie Williams
Language
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eng
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Air Force. Coastal Command
Conforms To
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Pending review
Pending revision of OH transcription
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944
216 Squadron
77 Squadron
aircrew
bombing
crewing up
Halifax
pilot
RAF Elvington
RAF Full Sutton
Special Operations Executive
training
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1247/17040/PLeckieW1901.2.jpg
66b1611784af6fa1e98248f944c26165
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1247/17040/ALeckieW190322.2.mp3
ed629a3eb9fa65452055ce8345280bde
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
Leckie, Bill
William Leckie
W Leckie
Description
An account of the resource
Two oral history interviews with Bill Leckie (1921 - 2021). He flew operations as a pilot with 216 and 77 Squadrons.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2019-03-01
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Leckie, W
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
AM: Right. This interview is being conducted for the International Bomber Command Centre. The interviewer is Alistair Montgomery and the interviewee is Mr Bill Leckie, Flight Lieutenant Bill Leckie or Captain Bill Leckie. The interview is taking place at Bill’s lovely home in Troon. Bill, good afternoon.
BL: Good afternoon, Monty.
AM: Bill, tell me just a little bit about your family background and where you lived prior to joining the Royal Air Force.
BL: Well, to go back to where I was started living. That was Glasgow. I was born in Glasgow. I lived there for about seven years and then my father, he suffered with bronchitis. He had been a heavy smoker and that’s his problem. It was his problem, and he was told he would have to get away from the city so he got a transfer to the more or less the country which was fine because he was a country born himself and brought up in the country, and same with my mother. They were both country people so they were quite happy and there was, he got a place with a bit of ground attached to it which he never really managed to make it, you know [pause] you know, a living from. But he got some a poultry farm he ought to expand it in to but it never took place. So, I was brought up on that basis in the country, and then that was fine. And when I was, oh what would I be now? I think I would be what, eighteen when I joined the Air Force. I did want to join as a boy service but my mother and dad wouldn’t agree to it, and so I had to wait until the war came along and I was called up.
AM: Right.
BL: And I spent five years in the Air Force.
AM: So, when, when you were called up where did you go for your, for your basic training?
BL: That was mainly [pause] I’ll get the name in a minute. Babbacombe.
AM: Babbacombe. Right.
BL: Yeah, Number 1 ITW. Babbacombe.
AM: Right. By the sea.
BL: By the sea.
AM: Right.
BL: That’s where I did my ITW as they called it.
AM: Right. So —
BL: I was called up and I went to St John’s Wood in London. That was my first full time encounter with the Service as such. From being called up and going along and signing in and being asked what I wanted to do, that was about I think about three months before I finally went to, well I went to St John’s Wood first of all.
AM: Right.
BL: As a reception. And from St John’s Wood I went down to Babbacombe to do my ITW.
AM: Right. And what was that like?
BL: That was fine. That was good. Quite, fairly intensive, but I don’t think we were, we were too badly done by.
AM: Right [laughs] and did you know at that stage that you were going to undertake pilot training?
BL: I knew at that stage. Right from the beginning.
AM: Right.
BL: Because that’s what I asked to be, you know at the initial call up. They said, ‘Oh, what would you like to be?’ And I said, ‘A pilot.’ They sat reading my papers and fortunately enough my name must have come out of the hat. I don’t know.
AM: Right. I mean did you do any specific tests to assess whether you were better as a pilot or as something else then?
BL: No. No.
AM: Right.
BL: No. I went straight on to the pilot course.
AM: Right. So when you finished your square bashing what happened then?
BL: Oh. What did we do after that? Oh, yes. We rolled up to, oh what was the place? The aircrew centre at, near Manchester.
AM: Right.
BL: And I spent, I expected to spend quite some time there. Instead all I’d spent was three days and I was put on a, you know, what would you call it? A group, and we were told we were going overseas.
AM: Right.
BL: And simply because they came up to, to Greenock, I mean I recognised the place. I knew where I was, but I was just when we got off the train and then straight on board the ship, you know.
AM: Right.
BL: The train ran out on to the jetty where the ship was moored.
AM: Right.
BL: And that was me on my way across the water there over to Canada. We arrived in Halifax.
AM: Right. And was the, was the sea crossing uneventful?
BL: Uneventful.
AM: Right. Thank goodness for that.
BL: Yeah. We had a fast ship and we had another ship which kept us company.
AM: Right.
BL: It wasn’t, you know a Navy ship or anything like that. A ship that had been converted into I think, what did they call them?
AM: A troopship.
BL: Yeah. A troopship. Yeah.
AM: Right.
BL: I think so. Yeah. Well, the first ship and then another ship. I don’t know what the other ship was carrying but I think it was a troop ship as well.
AM: Right.
BL: And we had this ship escorting us.
AM: Right.
BL: And we eventually finished up in Halifax. We got on the train in Halifax and that took us down to Detroit. We went to Detroit from there, and we spent what you might say initial training in Detroit, probably part of it, and when we finished our time in Detroit which was a kind of square bashing effort we moved down to Pensacola.
AM: Right.
BL: That’s where we started to do our flying properly. We did a few trips in Detroit so we did on a, it was an old biplane to begin with and then we got a slightly newer Stearman. But anyway down to Pensacola and there we flew the old MP1 as it was called which was an aircraft that the American Navy had built themselves. They built aircraft during the war, but the original aircraft, and then we got off them on to more modern Stearmans and finished our flying then.
AM: And how did you find the flying training? Was it a challenge or did you find it fairly straightforward? Or —
BL: Oh, no. Well, to me it was a challenge. I had to keep myself, you know [pause] I never found it easy. No. No. No.
AM: What was the element you found hardest? Was it instruments or aerobatics or —
BL: Aerobatics.
AM: Right.
BL: Aerobatics. I don’t think I could have been a, you know, a fighter pilot. I don’t think so.
AM: Right.
BL: So, I got what I wanted. The big aircraft. And that’s what I got. I actually didn’t. I mean, I had, when I was chosen to go on to the Flying Boats that was what I had in my mind and I thought I’d got them but no.
AM: But you did some Catalina flying in America.
BL: Oh, yes. That’s right.
AM: Tell me a wee bit about that. What that was like?
BL: It was just all training. There was never any, you know actual what you might say offensive work but it was all these long trips training. I think that the longest trip we did, in my mind anyway was the twelve hour trip.
AM: Oh gosh.
BL: And they were just in a sense letting you see what it was like to travel [laughs] You know.
AM: And was it easy to fly? The Catalina.
BL: No. It wasn’t easy to fly. It was a very sluggish aircraft.
AM: Right.
BL: If you wanted to make a left or a right hand turn you had to think about it, you know quite a little while before you went into the turn and that because even though you used the controls she was very slow at responding to them. So you were always, in a sense you had to be ahead of yourself but other than that they were fine. Yeah.
AM: So, so then you finished in the Catalina is that when you came back to —
BL: Yes.
AM: To the UK.
BL: Sent back to the UK to wait for a posting to a Boat squadron.
AM: Right.
BL: I never knew whether I would. I was to be going on a Short Sunderland or the Catalina again and I didn’t know. We were, we stayed in Harrogate for, I think for six weeks waiting on a posting.
AM: Right.
BL: We came back to Harrogate from the States.
AM: So there you are in Harrogate fully expecting to become, to become a maritime pilot. To become a Flying Boat pilot.
BL: That’s what I expected to go on to.
AM: Right. So, tell me what actually happened then.
BL: I don’t know. It just happened. There was no postings came up for a Boat squadron.
AM: Right.
BL: And I then had to go to Little Rissington and convert in to the Bomber Command.
AM: Right.
BL: From, oh I forget now. What was the [pause] it doesn’t matter, I think. No. The flying, the Flying Boat commander. What was that called again?
AM: Maritime.
BL: It was maritime anyway.
AM: Yeah.
BL: Yeah. So, as I say I went to Little Rissington, converted on to an, on to an Oxford and then from the Oxfords I finally got posted to a squadron to do an OTU which was up in the north of Scotland at Lossiemouth.
AM: Right.
BL: I think it was.
AM: And what, what did you fly at Lossiemouth?
BL: Wellingtons.
AM: Right.
BL: To begin with it was Whitleys. We had a Whitley to begin with.
AM: And did you have your own crew at that stage?
BL: No. No. Not all of it. And I never flew in a Wellington. That’s not right. I flew the Whitley and I had a part crew.
AM: Right.
BL: I think I was missing an engineer. Yeah. I think it was the engineer and then from, from there I was posted down to York. And then from York I was posted to [pause] no. I must have done another. Before that happened I was posted to Stoke Orchard for some AFU flying.
AM: Right.
BL: And then from there I was posted up to Forres actually. More so than Lossiemouth. I didn’t fly from Lossiemouth. It was Forres I flew from, and I flew the Whitley then.
AM: Right.
BL: And then from there I was posted down to Harrogate and then I joined 77 Squadron.
AM: Right. And what, what aircraft did they have then?
BL: There they were the Halifax.
AM: Right. The Halifax.
BL: Yeah. That was Group. 4 Group. And 4 Group were Halifaxes.
AM: Right. And had you crewed up by this stage?
BL: When I got to Harrogate that was when I picked up my engineer.
AM: Right. So how did, how did, tell me a little bit about this process of getting your crew together then.
BL: Well, that was left up to ourselves to pick who we wanted and I had it in my mind I wanted to have an all Scottish crew.
AM: Right.
BL: And I nearly achieved my purpose. I had all, I had I would say six crew plus myself and I had five, and needed an engineer. No. A sparks. I had an engineer. There was a sparks I was missing.
AM: Right.
BL: A wireless operator.
AM: Right.
BL: I couldn’t get anybody who was Scottish. This was what was, we were given, I think we were given a week, I can’t remember but they had to be, had to get it done. If you didn’t get it done yourself then they would do it for you. Whoever was in charge. And I had got the five and I was left with one and that was the engineer and I had a day to go. That was all. So, I thought well I’ll have to pick on somebody. I did ask a chap and he was quite happy. Yes. That was ok. He would come and join them and blow me down but the next day a chap came up to me, a Scottish lad and this chap who had asked to come as, you know the last member of the crew he was English and the lad who came up to me the next day was Scottish. I just missed out on the all Scottish crew.
AM: Right.
BL: So I don’t think there would have been too many of those, you know.
AM: No. I don’t think so at all. So, by the time you got to the squadron about how many Halifax sorties had you done on the OTU, roughly?
BL: I would say very few. I mean my first operational trip was to a place called Russelsheim in Germany. And I only did I think three or four trips altogether when I found myself in the CO’s office saying to me that there was a posting he would like to, ‘Would you like to go on a posting somewhere else?’ He said. And I said, ‘Yeah. I don’t mind.’ He says, ‘Well, we’ll have you posted and your crew and you’ll be leaving tonight.’ Just like that [laughs] And that’s what happened and we moved, we flew down to [pause] it’s a Transport Command station in the south of England. Still in operation today and I can’t think of the name of it.
AM: Was it, was it Lyneham?
BL: No. No. No. It wasn’t far from Lyneham but it wasn’t Lyneham. It was another name. So we spent a night. Yeah. We spent the night there. We flew down there and spent the night and the following night we boarded a Hudson not going, not knowing where we were going. Just going on to, there was, you know another crew and ourselves and flying out as passengers. Nobody told you where you were going and it wasn’t, the first place we touched down at on the way out was Gibraltar to refuel and get breakfast. We had breakfast of bacon and eggs.
AM: Right [laughs]
BL: And then we took off and we flew along the north coast of Africa until we got to [pause] I can’t remember now though I did, I think we [pause] yes we landed at what was called Cairo West. It was an airfield. The airport or the airfield was in the desert.
AM: Right.
BL: And that’s where we landed and that was with 216 Squadron, which was the squadron I had been posted to. That’s where it operated from, this squadron in the desert.
AM: And this was still on the Halifax.
BL: And they were flying DC3s then.
AM: Right.
BL: Left the Halifax behind.
AM: But you flew the Halifax in Italy did you not?
BL: When I went up to, when I went up to there. When I got posted there. From there I got posted up to Naples and then in Naples I was posted down to Brindisi and they were fitted out with Halifaxes.
AM: Right. Which Mark of Halifaxes was that?
BL: It was the Mark, the Mark 2 I think it was.
AM: Right. And what was the, what was the role of that squadron?
BL: That was a special duties squadron.
AM: Right.
BL: So that was simply feeding the guerrilla fighters, if you like with guns, ammunition, and food and clothing and they would go and do drops wherever they set up a dropping zone.
AM: And was, whereabouts were these drop zones? Yugoslavia or —
BL: Mainly in the Yugoslav. Mainly in the Balkans.
AM: Right.
BL: Various places in the Balkans and usually they would be somewhere in a clearing in the hills. There was usually hills around about you.
AM: Yeah.
BL: You seldom got a, you know a dropping zone which was clear.
AM: And were these drops being done by day or by night?
BL: By day.
AM: Right. And what sort of height were you dropping from?
BL: About eight hundred to five hundred feet.
AM: Oh, my God. And was it mainly stores or people or both?
BL: No. There was some people. Joes we called them. We went some, there were two or three flights with Joes on board but mainly it was supplies.
AM: Right.
BL: It was. And —
AM: I understand you were involved with dropping some of the agents involved with the recovery of the Nazi art, is that correct?
BL: That’s right. Yes. That was as I say. That took place. Not that I knew it at the time but there is a book written about it.
AM: Right. This one. “The Monument Men.” Is that it?
BL: The, “Monument Men.” Yeah.
AM: Right.
BL: Right. Yes. I flew them in to where we had to drop them off and where they were going was we landed on a plateau and as I say it was Norway. We didn’t land on the plateau. We dropped them off over the target.
AM: Right.
BL: And it was snow covered at the time. It was in the wintertime, and we left them at that and where they were going was down in to the valley and we could see the lights.
AM: In to Berchtesgaden area was it?
BL: Pardon?
AM: Was that at Berchtesgaden in southern Germany? Or was it —
BL: No. That wasn’t the name. There’s another name for it. It’s mentioned in the “Monument Men.”
AM: Right.
BL: But I can’t think of it. Anyway —
AM: Did you ever have a chance to talk to these people you were going to drop?
BL: I didn’t but my mid-upper gunner did.
AM: Right.
BL: Well, that was his previous job. That’s what, he’d been trained as a mid-upper gunner but when we were flying as the special duties which we had done most of, we had only done three or four bombing trips. He got talking the odd time but most times the people, they didn’t speak English or they wouldn’t speak English whatever way it was. They didn’t say anything about what they had to do.
AM: Right.
BL: There was, there was one story came back to us. I think it really came back to us. One story came back. One story came back saying we’d dropped them in the wrong place and well as far as I was concerned and the navigator was concerned we dropped them where we were told when we got our briefing before going off on the flight. And sometime later we discovered that it was a habit of the ops people that they would be there telling us where we were going. Not telling us where we were going but telling us a false place. In other words the idea that was that somebody had been talking to us, or we inadvertently said something about where we were going to do the drops but we wouldn’t be there because that was all changed.
AM: So it was a decoy really.
BL: It was a decoy. Yeah.
AM: Right.
BL: And the final dropping zone we got when we went to our final briefing, not until then.
AM: Let, let me just take you back a bit to your, your early bombing sorties on, on the Halifax when you were still based in, in Yorkshire.
BL: York.
AM: Yeah. At Elvington and Full Sutton. What was your first bombing sortie? Was that a day sortie or a night sortie?
BL: No. It was a night sortie.
AM: Right.
BL: I went as a second pilot actually.
AM: Right. And what was that like having for the first time — ?
BL: We were bombing from I think about ten thousand feet and that was just you know all the lights and everything else. I’d never seen anything like it.
AM: No. There was a lot of flak.
BL: Yes. There was some flak. Yes. But I just did the one trip, you know.
AM: Right. And then you went off with your own crew.
BL: Yes.
AM: And what were the first bombing sorties you did then?
BL: Well, again that was just the [pause] the next day. I never knew what we were dropping you know in a sense of what our bomb load was.
AM: Right.
BL: Never, never sort of saw into that. The only thing was that there was one trip we had to do and that was daylight trip. We were supposed to be bombing behind the British lines but before we got there. I mean in France this was.
AM: Right.
BL: But before we actually got to the, where we were supposed to be dropping these behind the British lines, as it were word came through the radio operator that we had to return home and drop our bombs in the Channel. The operation was off. It was cancelled. And of course they didn’t want you landing with live bombs.
AM: No.
BL: At the airport. So that’s what happened. That was the only time it did happen and we dropped them in the, in the Channel.
AM: Right. So these were sorties to support the British troops in Normandy.
BL: That’s right.
AM: Right. And did you do any sorties against the V-1 sites or —
BL: No. No. Aye. Probably we did. But I didn’t —
AM: You mentioned Russelsheim in Germany.
BL: Yeah. That was the very first trip I did.
AM: Right.
BL: That was a night trip.
AM: Right.
BL: But I think that’s why it sticks in my mind.
AM: I can imagine. And were most of those sorties you did at that stage day trips?
BL: No. No. Only because, only, we only did three or four trips. I should go and get my log book and look it.
AM: Yeah. You can do. [unclear]
BL: That’s fine. That’ll do it.
[recording paused]
AM: Perfect.
BL: I think it was Full Sutton. That was where I was at, look.
AM: Yeah. Bill, if you can just tell me a wee bit about what life was like at, at Full Sutton.
BL: Well, I can’t say that there was any outstanding other than just if there was an operational on we’d get our briefing during the day we had, spent at you know in the camp or went in to York. Like I say I spent a lot of time on my own. I didn’t go around with a group of lads.
AM: Right.
BL: I was, I suppose I was considered a loner.
AM: Right.
BL: So there was nothing.
AM: So, what was, what was the social life in the mess like?
BL: Well, it was alright. I mean, I just met up, you know, I knew a few lads. There was one other chap that we were, I was quite, kind of friendly with that kept in touch after the war as well but he has died. He died several years ago.
AM: Right.
BL: I’m trying to remember now. Something about [pause] you see my memory’s gone now.
AM: I think all of us suffer a bit from our memory’s fading a wee bit.
BL: My memory’s gone for lots of things.
AM: So when you, when you, when you left the RAF and, and joined the Reserve where did you move to then?
BL: Well, we used to go to Grangemouth.
AM: Right.
BL: And we’d go there, you know for I would not only get there on a Sunday I didn’t get there every weekend and I never spent a weekend at Grangemouth but I went there and did fly in a Tiger Moth over there.
AM: Right.
BL: So that was really what we did at Grangemouth.
AM: And what sort of flying was that in the Tiger Moth? Was it flying cadets or —
BL: No.
AM: Just training.
BL: Just training. We had a good commander there. You’d go off, off solo.
AM: Yeah.
BL: You know, you passed out and I mean most of the flying was done solo so that was interesting. And as I say was [pause] I’ve forgotten the name of it.
AM: And where were you working at this stage?
BL: Well, to begin with, before I joined up I was working in a cinema as a projectionist.
AM: Right.
BL: And when I came back I went back to the company and I got a job back again as a projectionist. And then from there I left that and I went to work at the Hoover people in the Hoover factory. That was just simply a production job. I was just checking out the, the [pause] what would you call it now, what would you call it? The electric. They were making electric motors.
AM: Yes.
BL: And that was a question you had to check. Just, I mean it was a dead simple job.
AM: And was this at Cambuslang?
BL: That was at Cambuslang.
AM: Right.
BL: That’s right.
AM: So, what did the people around about you think about having an RAF pilot working in the Hoover factory? They must have remarked on it.
BL: Well, I don’t think anybody knew. I don’t think anybody were any the wiser.
AM: No.
BL: I never talked about it.
AM: You never told them.
BL: No.
AM: Right. That’s amazing. Right. I suppose that must have been quite common after the war. That people went from being, you know aircraft captains.
BL: Oh aye.
AM: To being, working on a shop floor.
BL: Yeah. Well, you see I was lucky enough, I don’t remember now but I mean as I say I joined up in the Reserve, and there was an exhibition in Glasgow in the Kelvin Hall and the RAF VR had a stand there. So naturally I went along there and talked to them and that’s when I joined up again.
AM: Right.
BL: Went back into the Reserves and then started going to Grangemouth and doing some flying from Grangemouth. And then Grangemouth closed down and I went to Perth. Again, it was just weekend flying for a wee while but eventually I got a job in Perth as a staff pilot.
AM: Right.
BL: That’s what started me off.
AM: Right.
BL: You know. Up until then I was just sort of dodging around. I really hadn’t a proper job, a fixed job when I came back.
AM: And were you married by this time?
BL: I’d got married by then. Yes.
AM: Aye. So you needed a steady job.
BL: Yeah.
AM: So where did you go from [Airworks]?
BL: Aer Lingus
AM: Right. So you moved to Ireland.
BL: We moved to Ireland. Yes.
AM: Right.
BL: That’s right.
AM: And when you started with Aer Lingus what were you flying?
BL: A DC3.
AM: Right. So, that was something you knew.
BL: That’s exactly. That’s why I got the job.
AM: Right. And how long did you fly the DC3 with Aer Lingus for?
BL: Quite a long while.
AM: Right.
BL: Because that’s all they had.
AM: Right.
BL: Were DC3s but eventually they got —
AM: Was it a Viscount?
BL: Viscounts.
AM: Right.
BL: Viscounts. That was it. They got the Viscount and then they got the others. What was that called? It was a Dutch plane. F something.
AM: Oh, F-27.
BL: F-27, that’s right.
AM: Yeah.
BL: I knew those so I flew those.
AM: Right. Nice aeroplane.
BL: It was. Yes. And what did I do after that?
AM: Did you not finish on the Boeing?
BL: I might. I finished on the Boeing at Aer Lingus. Yes.
AM: Right. So, it was the first —
BL: When I went to Aer Lingus that was the last employer I had.
AM: Right. And what, was the Boeing 737 the first jet aeroplane you flew?
BL: I would say so. Yes.
AM: I think that’s fantastic.
BL: Yes. I went to the States to convert on to it.
AM: Right.
BL: Yeah. Yeah. So it was, in fact it was the first 737 to be flying in Europe. So it was.
AM: Right.
BL: At that time.
AM: Right. So that’s quite an accolade to go over and pick up the first 737.
BL: Yeah.
AM: And when you retired you were on the Boeing 737.
BL: Yes.
AM: Right.
BL: Yes. I never left them. Oh, well I did actually. I flew the 70, 720 for a while. I did, oh I spent the best part of a year I think, six months or a year as a navigator. They were short of navigators.
AM: Gosh.
BL: At one period when they were flying the Atlantic and they were using the 720 I think it was. And I flew in that as the navigator. Didn’t fly as a pilot.
AM: Right.
BL: I was a navigator because I had my navigator’s licence.
AM: Right.
BL: And then when I finished that section I got moved into the pilot’s seat. The co-pilot, and just continued from there and eventually moved over in to the captain’s seat.
AM: Right.
BL: Finished my time as a captain. I wish in a way you know it was all down in writing and not up here.
AM: Exactly. Yeah. Yeah.
BL: Because I can’t remember.
AM: Yeah.
BL: I can’t remember now an awful lot. My memory is actually worse now than it used to be.
AM: Bill, it’s a remarkable story and it’s been a great pleasure listening to you, and meeting you and hearing the story of your life.
BL: I’ve been [pause] It’s been an enjoyable life.
AM: Yeah.
BL: I’ve been lucky. Very lucky, with all the different places I went to. Were able to fly from.
AM: Yeah.
BL: With different aircraft.
AM: And flown some lovely aeroplanes. Bill, thank you. I’ll switch that off now.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Interview with Bill Leckie.
Creator
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Alastair Montgomery
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2019-03-22
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Type
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Sound
Identifier
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ALeckieW190322
PLeckieW1901
Conforms To
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Pending review
Pending revision of OH transcription
Format
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00:39:32 audio recording
Description
An account of the resource
Bill Leckie Bill was born in Glasgow but moved to the countryside as his father suffered from bronchitis. Initially working as a cinema projectionist, Bill joined the Royal Air Force at the age of eighteen, enlisting at St John’s Wood in London as a trainee pilot. Bill undertook basic training at RAF Babbacombe in Devon before being sent overseas to Halifax, Canada. He was then sent onwards to Pensacola for flying training, where his flying training included Stearmans. Bill found aerobatics hard and thought he would prefer flying the flying boats. He flew Catalinas, which he describes as sluggish and slow to respond to control inputs. Bill was then sent back to Harrogate in the United Kingdom waiting for a posting, expecting to be sent to fly flying boats as part of Coastal Command. Instead he was sent to Bomber Command at RAF Little Rissington where he trained on Oxfords before being sent to an operational training unit at RAF Lossiemouth. There he flew Whitleys and Wellingtons. Bill was then posted to 77 Squadron in Harrogate to fly the Halifaxes. With his Scottish crew, he took part in a handful of operations from RAF Elvington and RAF Full Sutton. Later, Bill was flown to Cairo via Gibraltar to join 216 Squadron. Bill was also stationed at Brindisi in Italy, flying the Halifax Mk2 as part of a ‘special duties’ squadron dropping supplies and agents, mainly in the Balkans. He took part in dropping agents sent to recover the Nazi’s looted art works. After the war, Bill returned to his job as a cinema projectionist and then later joined Hoover, working in production. Later, Bill moved to Ireland and flew with the airline Aer Lingus, where he flew several types, including the Douglas DC-3 pilot and Vickers Viscount. Before his retirement, Bill was flying some of the first Boeing 737 jet airliners in Europe, having been trained in the United States.
Contributor
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Andy Shaw
Julie Williams
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Canada
Nova Scotia
Nova Scotia--Halifax
United States
Florida
Florida--Pensacola
England--Devon
England--Yorkshire
England--Gloucestershire
England--Harrogate
North Africa
Egypt
Egypt--Cairo
Italy
Italy--Brindisi
Ireland
Florida
Great Britain
216 Squadron
77 Squadron
aircrew
bombing
C-47
Catalina
crewing up
Halifax
Halifax Mk 2
Heavy Conversion Unit
Oxford
pilot
RAF Elvington
RAF Full Sutton
RAF Little Rissington
RAF Lossiemouth
Resistance
Special Operations Executive
Stearman
training
Wellington
Whitley
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/882/17769/PHorshamES18010001.2.jpg
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https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/882/17769/PHorshamES18010002.2.jpg
e9dea8403d99016d7e695014a5dc0b24
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/882/17769/PHorshamES18010003.2.jpg
e6c140db4de3f0ab4c44822400fe54f1
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Title
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Horsham, Eric
Eric Symonds Horsham
E S Horsham
Description
An account of the resource
14 items. An oral history interview with Eric Horsham (b. 1923), 9 photographs, and his memoirs. He flew operations as a flight engineer with 102 Squadron from RAF Pocklington.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Eric Horsham and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-01-05
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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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Horsham, ES
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Permission granted for commercial projects
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Title
A name given to the resource
Eric Horsham's Crew
Description
An account of the resource
Seven airmen in front of their Halifax. On a second image the same image is annotated -
'Mid-Upper Gunner Jim Finney Hull
Flight Engineer Eric Horsham Wolwich SE London
Navigator Owen Shirley Carshalton Surrey
Pilot F/Lt Edgar Francis Seke St Michael
Bomadier B/A John Norris Finchley London
Wop/AG Alan Shepherd Ringwod Hants.
Rear Guns Ronald Alderton Hampstead London'.
On the reverse '
Pocklington 1944
Halifax III
(Eshersham Instructor 346/347 F French) Loraine (1946)
Sqdn - Elvington.
March 1944-1947'.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1944
Format
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One b/w photograph, annotated
Language
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eng
Type
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Photograph
Identifier
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PHorshamES18010001,
PHorshamES18010002,
PHorshamES18010003
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Free French Air Force
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Hull
England--Carshalton
England--London
England--Ringwood
England--London
England--Yorkshire
England--London
England--Hampshire
England--Surrey
Temporal Coverage
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1944-03
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
346 Squadron
347 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
bomb aimer
flight engineer
Halifax
Halifax Mk 3
navigator
pilot
RAF Elvington
RAF Pocklington
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/501/22419/BCurnockRMCurnockRMv1.2.pdf
dd6c1f8bb85b78fcd0c5a2ab7464a67a
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Title
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Curnock, Richard
Richard Murdock Curnock
R M Curnock
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
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Curnock, RM
Date
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2016-04-18
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Description
An account of the resource
92 items. An oral history interview with Warrant Officer Richard Curnock (1924, 1915605 Royal Air Force), his log book, letters, photographs and prisoner of war magazines. He flew operations with 425 Squadron before being shot down and becoming a prisoner of war.
The collection has been licenced to the IBCC Digital Archive by Richard Curnock and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[photograph]
Richard Montague Curnock
My War Story
[page break]
[underlined] CONTENTS [/underlined]
Page Number
Foreword 4
World War II begins 5
Samuel William Curnock 7
Dick's War Begins 10
Dalcross 10
Wellesbourne- Warwickshire 11
Heavy Conversion Unit - Dishforth (York's) the crew is completed 13
Tolthorpe - Squadron station 14
Our First Mission 15
The Second and Final Mission 16
Prisoner of War-number 2108 17
Stalag Luft VI - Heydekrug 18
Kriegies 10 commandments 20
Torun Stalag Luft 357 25
Oerbke near Fallingsbostel 27
The Long March 27
19th April 1945 28
The end of the War nears 31
Military Transport Training 33
Horsham 34
Egypt??? 35
To Italy 36
On the Road to Bari 39
Mercy Mission to Egypt 43
Dakota back to Italy - Treviso 46
2
[page break]
Reunions 49
Appendix 1- RAF flying log book 52
i) Gunnery course results 52
ii) Gunnery training 53
iii) - vi) 22 O.T.U 54-57
vii) - viii) 1664 Conversion Unit 58 - 59
ix) 425 Squadron 60
x) Flights to visit Bob in Egypt 61
Appendix 2 - Berlin cemetery plan 62
Appendix 3 - The March 63
Appendix 4 Red Cross map of prisoner of war camps
i) Long march route and map correction information 65
ii) Long march route 66
iii) Blue cross in circle marks where Dick was shot down. Red
cross near Frankfurt where he was moved to 67
iv) Red line shows route taken by Dick. Torun (Thorn camp) 68
v) Poznan - Stalag Luft XXI D 69
vi) Stalag Luft VI - Lithuania 70
3
[page break]
Foreword
The following writings are a combination of Dick's recollections as he remembers them in 2013/14. Also within are additions (in blue) from earlier recordings by Barbara, and information taken from his Wartime log (given to him by the Red Cross when in his first POW camp). And from his RAF navigator's; air bomber's and air gunner's flying log book.
Richard Montague Curnock (in his own words January 2014)
I was speaking just recently to Shirley and Steph about the anniversary of the shooting of the 50 POW's that attempted the escape from Stalag Luft 3, as I was at that time also a prisoner in another camp and was recounting how we took the news of this wholesale murder of our fellow airmen, also what the Germans retaliated with was an excuse for their prisoners over in North Africa having to sleep in tents (which anybody knows most troops lived that way in the desert) they took all our mattresses off the bunk beds, which left us with about five or six bed boards only and one blanket too sleep on, also we had two tables and a few chairs to each room, these they also removed.
All this happened whilst we were herded out of huts on to the parade ground where we were surrounded by hundreds of the German army in lorries with mounted machine guns, also the troops were on the ground with machine guns also lying on the roofs of the huts were virtually surrounded and all you could see guns pointing your way.
4
[page break]
[underlined] World War II begins [/underlined]
Guess it is time for me to start this saga of my war time story, which started when it was announced that Hitler had not replied to our letter stating of no reply had been heard from them by 11am on 3rd September 1939 then we would be at war with them, no reply so we were at war again.
I was a fifteen year old and had been working for a year and half, the first twelve months in a piano shop on Belgrave Road, was sacked for not dusting the violins and bows that hung on the walls "enough times".
My day started at 8.45 washing the front of the shop which was on a corner, so had two large windows and tiles along under the window, then dust all the pianos and they needed polishing regularly, sweeping regularly, attending to customers who wanted to pay for the their [sic] pianos which they paid for weekly. Pianos were priced at the lower being 12 pounds for an upright and 15 pound for an over strung, we had a special made for a customer a baby grand, the wood used was walnut and cost 35 pounds was on show for a week.
[photograph]
Dick, Sam, Bob and Mary, Minehead Street. 1940-1
Next job was making boot polish and paint that was used in the boot and shoe industry. My job was delivering the product to a lot of factories in Leicester and as far as Wigston and Oadby on a bike with a large basket over the front wheel, which held quite a lot of cans, they weighed nearly as much as I did that's another story.
5
[page break]
[photograph] [photograph]
Dick in ATC uniform 1941 Bob, Dick, Sam and Mary (1941)
6
[page break]
[underlined] Samuel William Curnock [/underlined]
[photograph]
Samuel William Curnock RAFVR: newly qualified sergeant pilot 1942
Brother Sam was already in the RAF and over in Canada training to be a pilot and I had then joined the Air Training Corps on third September 1941 as an aircrew cadet, brother Bob I believe was waiting to go into the RAF as a trainee pilot, I believe that during his tour over there Sam was killed in a flying accident at Gibraltar in 1942 (26th September 1942).
7
[page break]
[photograph]
Our flying crews have their recreation room at the United Kingdom landplane base
Sam (second from left) in a recreation room
There was nothing to how the accident happened but that the aircraft crashed into the sea at Gibraltar with no survivors. The pilot was a senior captain, Sam was a second pilot officer and they had an officer wireless operator. We were led to believe it could have been sabotage but no one knew.
It was then I decided I would get in the RAF quicker if I re-mustered as an air gunner instead of waiting for my pilot navigator course to come through.
In 2009 Peter and Jayne received a phone call from Jonathan Falconer who was researching Sam Curnock, the extract below gives more information on the circumstances of Sam's death than the family had ever known before.
Extract from "Names in Stone"-Jonathan Falconer.
Sam had volunteered to join the RAF in October 1940 on his eighteenth birthday, just as the fortunes of the RAF seemed to be swinging in its favour after the desperate air battles of the Battle of Britain in the summer months. He learnt to fly on Tiger Moths at 7 Elementary Flying Training School, Desford; Leicestershire. Before sailing to Canada; for further flying training at 73 Service Flying Training School; north Battleford, Saskatcheqan [sic] .
Sam qualified as a pilot and returned to England. With a shortage of flight crews for civil aircraft he was transferred in May 1942 to fly transport aircraft with Britain's national airline; BOAC.
in September 1942, Sam was Second Officer in the four-man crew of Whitley MK V, G-AGCI, which was operated by BOAC on its route between the UK and Gibraltar. Thirty-three year old Capt Charles Browne was in command of "Charlie-India".
8
[page break]
Charlie-India had flown into Gibraltar from England on 10th September 1942 and the aircraft's Master had stated in his Voyage Report that the aircraft was tail-heavy for the landing. The aircraft left again for England on 13th September, but her Master decided to turn back after only 25 minutes, reporting that Charlie India was now flying nose heavy.
Not long before his death, Sam was second pilot in a BOAC Whitley that crashed in England on take-off due to engine failure. He was uninjured and managed to walk away from the wreckage. In the fortnight that remained before her fatal crash, Charlie-India was the subject of several engineering inspections and three test flights after report by several pilots of nose and tail heaviness during flight. These problems appeared cured, but on 19th September the Master reported that Charlie-India was underpowered during take off and the initial climb, and unstable in flight. A further detailed inspection was carried out and another test flight was arranged.
To add to Charlie-India's woes, on 24th September the twin Bristol Hercules engines of an RAF Beaufighter was run up on Gibraltar's tarmac, tail on to the BOAC Whitley. The powerful propeller wash from the two radial engines caused damage to the trailing edge of the Whitley's elevators and the rudder trim tabs. Engineers made temporary repairs to the elevators, the damaged trim tab mechanisms were replaced, and a test flight was arranged for 3.56pm on 26th September.
With Charles Browne in command and Sam and the rest of the crew, Charlie-India took off normally from Gibraltar's east-west runway at 3.56pm and climbed out over the Bay of Gibraltar to about 300 feet, whereupon Browne eased the Whitley into a left-hand turn. Then something went badly wrong because the aircraft assumed a power glide attitude and continued in a shallow dive until it struck the sea at 3.59pm, sinking almost immediately in more than 900 feet of water.
Naval vessels were on the scene within minutes. Apart from a few small items of wreckage floating on the surface, the aircraft was not recovered. There were no survivors from her crew of four, and no bodies were ever recovered.
BOAC's technical investigators launched an immediate inquiry into the crash and on 29th October 1942 they made their report. Its conclusion was based more on informed speculation than hard fact, but in the absence of any wreckage or survivors this was the best that could be hoped for: "The precise cause of the accident cannot be determined, but a possible cause was an uncontrollable elevator trimmer tab due to a fracture in some part of the actuating mechanism .... There exists a possibility that subsequent to the take off one or both of the elevator trimmer tab mechanisms fractured, with the result that the Master was unable to maintain longitudinal control of the aircraft."
9
[page break]
[underlined] Dick's war begins [/underlined]
22nd March 1943; When l was 18 and 11 months I was called up (RAF (V.R) volunteer Reserve) and was sent a rail warrant for travel to London and Lord's cricket ground which was the Aircrew Receiving Centre (A.C.R.C) for al! aircrew candidates were we were kitted out and billeted in hotels all around the St Johns Wood area, loads of marching around going from one lecture to another with lots of marching exercises around the hotels, and in between times you were taken to a medical centre for inoculation, stand in line both arms bared, left arm two injections one inoculation right arm then out to the street, where there were bodies al! over the place, some bodies flat out other holding their arms and moaning. When they managed to get all of us in some semblance of order, we marched back to our hotels, but swinging of arms was painful and was not done with any energy.
After our initiation into RAF life we were on a train to Bridlington to learn navigation, armaments mathematics- aircraft recognition plus as always plenty of marching from one lecture to another, one other pastime was Morse code and the Aldis lamp, this was done with someone being sent to the end of the breakwater with an instructor with an Aldis lamp and they sent signals to the rest of us on the beach in twos, one reading the signal being sent and your friend writing it down, we used got some very weird messages at end of a session.
My next stage of training after Bridlington was Bridgnorth where unfortunately there was an outbreak of scarlet fever and German measles and unfortunately I happened to catch German measles and was put into an isolation hut, one of many for the recruits who had caught one of the diseases. I was put into a room of my own and had two weeks being looked after very well by a WAAF nurse during the day, and my night nurse who looked after me exceptionally well and was a lovely young lady. And as my condition improved she brought a radio into my room and we managed to have a dance and then she would tuck me up for the night with a cuddle and kiss goodnight.
After two weeks it was back to work where we did have a lot of lectures about armaments - aircraft recognition - Morse code with mathematics also but mainly armaments, how to dismantle a machine gun and also put it back and hope it worked alright.
Aircraft recognition was a priority knowing which the enemy was and which ours. My time spent with aircraft recognition at home kept me getting top marks in every exam we did, we had night vision exams where pictures were shown on a screen as if you were in a turret and had to identify the aircraft shown, my trouble was the fellows around me were always asking me what the aircraft was, the instructor stopped me helping them, he said that they would not be any use unless they got to know themselves. From then on I was removed from my seat and had to sit by the light switches turning them on and off as required. After finishing this course my instructors gave me a very good report and should get on well.
[underlined] Dalcross [/underlined]
Dick RAF flying log book information can be seen in appendix 1
My section was then sent on leave for a week after which we had to board a train to Scotland, destination was a place called Dalcross (near Inverness, Moray Firth) which turned out to be our Initial Flying Training course on Avro Ansons.
10
[page break]
Pilots converting on to twin engine Airspeed Oxford after training in Canada. This was now 17.7.43 and my course here lasted until 28.8.43 (appendix i) and ii)). The training consisted of being taken up in Avro Ansons six training gunners and an instructor we took it in turns to sit in the turret which had one gun in it attached was a camera which we had to train on a fighter aircraft which made a dummy attack on you, all exciting stuff, except when the fighter was late arriving and you had to fly round and round a church steeple, that was when my last coffee and biscuit decided to reappear, this happened three times, each time I was sent to the sick bay and gave an explanation of what was happening, I was given a glass of horrible liquid and told to report back for more flying. This occurred twice more by that time my stomach stopped playing around and settled down to the rigours of flying.
We also had firing with the one gun at a drone towed behind another aircraft and our bullets had colours on the tips so that they could record the number of hits. Our results were pathetic as the guns would only fire two bullets at a time and then jam so you then had to rearm it; we also used camera guns with which we had more success.
It also happened to be a training camp for pilots on night flying on airspeed oxfords.
Bob had by this time gained his pilots wings in Canada and was back in England and was posted to Dalcross near Inverness. I think this was during July 1943 and August 1943 to train on twin engine Airspeed Oxfords. Neither of us knew we were there until one evening we were going into Inverness and just happened to be walking down the road to catch the bus into town when I spotted Bob who was as surprised as I was; from then on we spent a bit of time together until he was posted elsewhere.
I continued at Dalcross to become a Sergeant air gunner had quite a good report from all the training staff and was given above average report from most of the tutors, not that it helped much as the ammunition we were using had a wide flange on the bullet casing as it was American and caused it to stick, you could only fire a couple of rounds and then you had to re-cock it again, life was hard on us.
[underlined] Wellesbourne- Warwickshire - meet the crew [/underlined]
18.9.1943. (Appendix iii) t [sic] vi)) My next posting was to Wellesbourne (Warwickshire) the Operational Training Unit to start being crewed up with members of a crew. The procedure was for the pilots to have a chat with the navigators, wireless operators, bomb aimers and air gunners and then ask the ones he wished to be his crew if they would join him Charlie (Chuck) Stowell, the pilot picked Bob Friskey as navigator then Eugene Fullum our wireless operator, the next was our bomb aimer Gordon Dinsmore, which left the rear gunner, which I believe was unanimous decision by them all that was me. We then spent our time getting to know each other; that is we went out at night doing a spot of drinking and rather a lot of talking or the other way round.
11
[page break]
[photograph]
Bob Friskey, Eugene Fullom and Chuck Stowell
[photograph]
A copy of the only photo of the crew: Back row: Bob Friskey, Gordon Dinsmore
Front row: Eugene Fullom, Dick Curnock, Chuck Stowell
This was at Gaydon the satellite airfield to Wellsbourne, here we started flying as a crew in the Wellington bomber, doing practice bombing at targets on the coast and various places also we had
12
[page break]
fighter aircraft doing dummy attacks during which I had a camera gun and it recorded my success against these attacks we also did firing at a draught [sic] towed behind another aircraft, with our bullets being painted different colours so they could count the number of hits we scored. This proved to be very hap hazard as the ammunition we were using was American and every second round got stuck in the breech and had to be manually ejected so our scores were very low. We did quite a lot of cross country flying for the navigators to gain experience a lot of it at night time.
We also did a lot of circuit flying at night so that the pilot could manage to get us back to the airfield safely. Some nights were a bit bumpy as he misjudged his height, my head used to get a lot of knocks on these occasions and the skippers name was anything but "Chuck".
[drawing]
Picture drawn by Dick whilst a prisoner of war
[underlined] Heavy Conversion Unit - Dishforth (Yorks) - the crew is completed [/underlined]
14.1.1944. ( appendix vii and viii) We moved on next to a conversion unit which meant going onto four engine aircraft this was at Dishforth (near Ripon, Yorks) 1664 Heavy conversion unit. The aircraft was a four engine Halifax bomber for which we needed two extra crew; a mid upper gunner and a flight engineer. These we met and we all moved into a hut so that we would could get know each other. The mid upper gunner was a Canadian from a farming background a rather slow on the uptake but we got on well together. The engineer was from Salford a tall lad and red haired. The mid upper gunner was Wesley (Wes) Skerick and the engineer was Ginger Wheadon.
13
[page break]
[photograph] [photograph]
Ginger Wheadon Wes Skerick
At this stage we were beginning to get to know each other and in the evenings we were usually down in mess having some light refreshments, Bob Friskey didn't very often come, as he had not been married very long and took to writing to his wife almost every evening, so the rest of us went into Burroughbridge [sic] the nearest town to have a few beers, this we managed quite well with a another couple of Canadians from another crew who Chuck knew, and we each bought a round of drinks which lasted us most of the evening.
[underlined] Tolthorpe - Squadron station [/underlined]
7.2.1944. (Appendix ix) We then moved from Dishforth on to our squadron station which was at Tolthorpe near Easingwold still up in Yorkshire. It was the only French Canadian squadron from Canada, although all spoke English there was a lot of French spoken between most of the other crews, also most of the senior officers were from French ancestors. They could get very aggressive to each other as happened one evening later on.
Here there were four squadrons of Halifax bombers with around 60 planes. The squadrons with mainly Canadian or French/Canadian crews were:
[picture of 425 Squadron crest]
420 Snowy Owl
425 Alouette (the Lark- Dick's squadron)
431 Iroquois
434 Blue Nose
14
[page break]
We did lots of night cross country to various parts of the England to give the navigator, targets to find and which would be our target to bomb later on, also we had a bombing range which we had to find and drop practice smoke bombs on and from a certain height, some pilots tried to drop from a lower height so that they were getting better results and a higher percentage of hits. Not our pilot he said we would go as high as the aircraft could climb and then drop our bombs, which we did, only to be told on our return we were still too low, to which the skipper said that the Wellington couldn't climb any higher, and the rear gunner had a tin of drink in his flying suit pocket that was frozen no more was said on the subject.
We as a crew were sent to a camp which was to improve our fitness, which we didn't think was necessary as we all felt fit and well, we were allocated a hut and promptly forgot, we went for meals regularly and were not called on to do anything apart from eat and sleep, Eugene Gordon and myself walked around the fields and found where they were growing swedes, carrots, turnips, so we borrowed a few and cooked them on our stove in the hut and with other bits from the cookhouse and had some good meals in the evenings. Fortunately we were only there for about 10 days, and then were sent to squadron.
The squadron was from Canada and had only been in England a short while and we joined it at the end of January 1944 in which time we got to know the aircraft we to fly in, it was a Halifax MK3 K.W.U for Uncle. Unfortunately for us we only did about 14 hours training on our aircraft.
[photograph of Halifax bomber]
Halifax Bomber
[underlined] Our First Mission [/underlined]
February 24th/25th we were called for a briefing and found we were due to fly a bombing trip to a place called Swinefurt [sic] , a long trip to the south of Germany which would be an eight hour round trip but unfortunately the port outer engine decided to cause a problem and stopped altogether, we couldn't climb to our bombing height due to lack of power and could not carry on at this low height, so the skipper decided we had best abort and return to base dropping our bomb load at sea. Which we did, and landed back at air station about three hours after take off. Not a good start at all, but the fault was found to be a blockage in the fuel pipe to the engine.
15
[page break]
[underlined] The Second and Final Mission [/underlined]
February 25th/26th we were on our second trip which was a bombing raid on Augsburg (North West of Munich) to bomb a factory making ball bearings for tanks, from which we failed to return. Our aircraft was hit by anti aircraft fire and both the engines on our left side were put out of action and caught fire. The noise it made when the shell hit our left side was like a firework being let off inside a dustbin. Then the next thing was flames coming past my turret Chuck our skipper came over our intercom asking if we were all uninjured which he did by calling each one by name. Then he said that we were not going to keep going, so had to bale out, each one of us saying we understood, good luck and made ready to bale out. What to do first I thought, disconnect my intercom, then the oxygen tube, think we were flying at a height of around twenty four thousand feet so would I have enough oxygen to keep going to get my parachute which was in a rack in the fuselage and then get the panel open in the fuselage floor for myself and mid upper - which was Wes to jump out. We shook hands and shouted good luck and looked down through the hatch to see the flames from the engines flying by so put my leg out and flow of air pulled the rest of me out!!
Suddenly everywhere is quiet, you are supposed to count to ten before pulling the ripcord to your parachute by the time I counted up to four I didn't hear any noise so pulled my ripcord and was instantly jerked upright, with my flying suit collar up round my ears and it was very quiet.
My thoughts whilst drifting down were varied and very worrying to say the least, it had my thoughts in turmoil.
Below was a patchwork due to snow and could have been fields, but from a height of 20000 feet there was no telling what it was going to be. My thoughts of a church spire came to mind or there was an industrial town down there with factories with tall chimneys also electric power cables, or a town with tall house and me hanging from the roof. The later [sic] was near to it as I came down between two poplar trees and I landed in a town house garden in an apple tree. I had my parachute hanging up in the tree, which I decided to pull down but it must have snagged and a piece ripped off and was left hanging in the tree what I had pulled down and bundled up and slipped under some buses [sic] . I then decided to find a way out of the garden; so removed my flying kit as I would be very conspicuous walking around in it. At that time I was just in my battle dress getting very cold, I then found a road running alongside the garden, so jumped over the wall onto a road started walking past some large houses all about five stories high, I had landed in a large residential area of a town. Then the siren for what I presumed was an air raid starting, so I walked up another road to miss people around that area, then the siren started again and people started running around (I discovered later that they had two sirens at the start of a raid and also two all clears) by which time I was back to where I had landed in the garden. So I hopped back over the wall and decided to put my flying suit back on as I was feeling very cold.
What to do now I thought; sleep seemed the best option or wake someone up and tell them who I was and call the police. I ended up curling up and sleeping and was woken by a squirrel running around me and then two elderly ladies coming our of the house next door and saw a piece of my parachute stuck up the tree, they shouted and ran back indoors and about 10 minutes later a policeman came down the garden path with a little pistol pointing at me and said hands up or words to that effect. Which I obliged, he then told me to take off my flying suit and go in front of him where
16
[page break]
he had left his cycle, and for me to put my clothes on his bike and we walked into the town to a police station. There were lots of people in the police station a lot were ex army with battle scars but quite polite, except one old boy who should have been in a home for the elderly along time ago, saying we would never win the war by sending us over to spy on them.
[underlined] Prisoner of War -number 2108 [/underlined] (Appendix 4 - iii) -Red Cross Map of prisoner of war camps)
I was then escorted to the Gestapo headquarters in the town which I discovered was Darmstadt (South East of Frankfurt) (on this journey Dick cut up his parachute with his penknife so that it couldn't be used by the Germans), and there met up with Wes, Eugene and Gordon whilst waiting there a rather irate man came in and picked up a chair and was going to hit Eugene with it, but fortunately I was able to stop the blow hitting Eugene with my flying suit, we found out later that Eugene had fractured his spine, releasing himself from his parachute harness whilst still hanging along way from the ground, which meant he had to go to a hospital so we didn't have any further contact with him.
Wes, Gordon and self were then taken by two armed guards to a building being used by the Police and handed over to Dulagluft Interrogation HQ on a tramcar with civilians on board who looked at us rather hostile, good job we had a couple of Luftwaffe guards with us, on the way through the streets there were a number of bodies hanging from lampposts turned out to be American airmen shot down on an earlier raid, quite a jolt to the system.
At the Interrogation HQ all our belongings were taken from us and we were then put into a cell with only a bed and a chair in it, no windows and an electric light on all the time, so you didn't know what part of the day or night it was. Dick became prisoner of war number 2108.
Then every so often an officer came in and said he was from the Red Cross and he would make sure that my parents would be notified where I was and was alright, but was being held in Germany as a prisoner of war and would be able to write once we had been sent to a POW camp. This treatment went on for quite a time you didn't know what day it was or time of day, we were fed soup and black bread and had brown water which they said was coffee, two or three times I was taken out and interviewed by an officer who told me who our commanding officer was and he had a daughter, had I met her, and then proceeded to tell me about the Halifax bomber but it wasn't doing much damage and we were losing them at a fare [sic] rate every night. When after a few days we were taken into the camp and given an American plastic suitcase in which was all manner of toiletries and clothes -a pair of slip on slippers, a towel, a face flannel, soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, pyjamas, packet of pipe tobacco and a pipe, packet of twenty cigarettes, some vest and pants, a bar of chocolate a meal can opener, also an American army shirt.
We stayed there for a short while until they had enough bodies to fill up a lot of cattle trucks to take us to our next camp. I was then issued with our name and prisoner of war number, mine being 2108 and made of metal, we still had only our battledress uniforms and it was February so felt the cold. (Appendix 4 - iv)
Then one morning we were paraded on the square with our cases and marched off to the railway yard where our train awaited, there was no difference between first and third class, you were just herded along and pushed up into a cattle truck 20 prisoners into each end of the wagon (The wagons had written on the side - 40 hommes or 8 cheveaux, this became part of the POW insignia after the war),
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with the centre section for the guards, so each wagon was divided into compartments by a wire netting wall. There were no toilets so you had to wait until we had been shunted off the mainline and were then allowed to do your do's sitting on a log which was alongside the railway line, at first it was very embarrassing but after three or four days you didn't bother just got on with it.
We had a stop each day for a bowl of soup and drink of so called coffee. Forgot to mention that each truck had a guard sitting on top of the wagon and must have been covered in smoke from the engines. Sleeping was almost impossible with twenty people in a small space, but you managed you might have had feet by your head or a bottom, because the only pillow you had was your plastic suitcase.
I didn't keep a record of how long the train trip was but was told it was ten to twelve days, we passed through a couple of large stations but could only see out through the gaps in the sides of the trucks as the guards closed the doors, were surprised at one station when we went slowly past a train of open trucks packed with people they were either Jews or displaced persons being taken to places of forced labour, we couldn't pass them anything so had to just let them pass without being able to speak to them.
[underlined] Stalag Luft VI - Heydekrug [/underlined] (Appendix 4 - vi)
We finally arrived at our destination Heydekrug (in Lithuania) and Stalaf Luft 6 which meant in German prison camp for airmen. This was in East Prussia on the Baltic coast and was built on sand, so that tunnels couldn't be dug in the sandy soil, that didn't stop some of the hot heads from trying. Only one was tried and the Germans had some idea this was happening and brought a motor roller in to run up and down between the huts, it found a tunnel starting out between two huts and it sank into the sand about six feet and was stuck for two days, when they finally tried to move it, they couldn't start it as a lot of the parts had somehow gone missing, the Germans never did the same trick again.
All the crew members met up again here, except for Eugene, who was in hospital. The camp was divided into 3 compounds, two of which contained 2,000 men, the third being smaller held 1,000 men. Dick was in one of the larger compounds, with 60 men to a room. Dick and Ginger were in the same hut, the other crew members elsewhere.
We had some good men who cold [sic] turn their hands to anything and make things out of bits and pieces, one being a clock which went backwards made from an old gramophone. Also we had radios I think there were two, both were built inside Dixie's which was an eating and cooking pot.
We had some well educated lads with as a lot of early aircrew were from college undergraduates who were in the call up age range, so they started up classes in the camp on a variety of subjects, and you could qualify for a degree as the Red Cross got permission from the Germans for this to happen. One of the POWs that made use of the books was Peter Thomas, who became a Welsh MP after the war and later Lord Thomas.
My only inroad into anything like this was to draw in our POW book, we were issued with, like a diary was the drawing of the aircraft they flew in and the air force inscription over the top; and I charged one cigarette for each drawing, not a lot but helped out. I believe a number of people at home sent me cigarettes through the Red Cross but only two tins of tobacco got through to me, these were St
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Bruno and they lasted me some time. They would have lasted longer but I used to roll some into cigarettes and fellows used to drop by for a couple of puffs.
[drawing of book]
One of Dick's drawings
Dick also found a talent for needlework. He unpicked the silk lining from his flying boots, and made a cravat, with the RAF crest embroidered on it.
Cigarettes were used as currency for buying food, if and when the Red Cross food parcels arrived, they were divided up and were allocated, as 1 parcel between seven or ten men, not a lot, but as some kriegies didn't want some of the item they sold them for cigarettes. (Kriegies was short for Kriegesgefangenen which is the German word for prisoner of war)
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[underlined] Kriegies 10 commandments [/underlined]
[drawing of scroll]
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We had radios which were hidden in various places. In our hut we had the men who looked after the radios. One evening after being shut in, lookouts kept watch whilst repairs were being done. Suddenly someone shouted Goons up. An officer with three men plus an Alsatian dog walked in, the tables were cleared very quickly, everything dropped into a carton and passed down the lower bunks, it arrived at my bunk and I had nowhere to pass it to so I hid it under my knees under a blanket and picked up a book to read. The dog came sniffing around but kept on going by, when I sort of came too I found my book which I was supposedly reading was upside down. Good job the dog didn't notice it.
[drawing of hut interior]
Inside one of the huts in a camp
Mornings started with the overnight latrine bucket having to be emptied, not a nice job we had a rota in the hut and two of us had to take a 30 to 40 litre container almost full and take it and empty it at the toilet block you invariably finished up rather damp and needed a good wash.
Next it was the guards shouting "RAUS!" get out the parade ground for morning head count and anything that the Germans thought we should know, like how well they were doing in the war but didn't say where.
After the head count which could take quite some time, they couldn't agree on the figures and had to do it again sometimes it was our own faults [sic] for moving around whilst they tried to count us.
Finally all was right so off for breakfast the German rations were not very plentiful. It started with what they said was coffee, first in the morning, but what it was made with didn't question, but it was hot and with adding powered milk you drank it, it had to be fetched from the cookhouse in metal jugs.
Dinner was usually a soup of some sort could just be potato or sauerkraut and on a good day you were given corned beef which was send to the camp from Argentina, another soup was swede with potatoes, we were also issued with a fish cheese which was not very palatable but you ate it.
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Bread, black was issued per day, it varied in the amount which was either 6 or 10 persons sharing a loaf which was about 8 or 9 inches long about 4 inches wide and could be 3 1/2 to 4 1/2 inches deep that is they were thicker one end than the other, so one can imagine trying to share it out to either a combination of three or twelve.
Then to the cookhouse for our very large cans of ertzats [sic] coffee I still don't know what it was made of but it was wet and warm and washed down your breakfast if you ever had any. You were dreaming about eggs and bacon and toast and marmalade but didn't make a habit of it.
The next part of the morning was spent washing and shaving or not then cleaning up your space and making it tidy, then any washing you had to do for which you had to boil water which meant finding some material to burn, bed boards were used but there was a limit to how many you could sleep without and still have a straight back. As I previously mentioned classes were being held in huts all around the camp during the day also we had the parade ground on which was played sports, football, rugby, rounder's and also they had physical exercises for those who wanted it, we had a stream running through a part of the camp which was used to see who could jump it in one go! If not you had a free foot wash and legs and shorts!!
During the evenings one of our newsreaders would come in the hut, with days news that had been listened to on one of the radios (Daily Express reporter Cyril Aynsley was one who took it down in shorthand), some of us would keep watch at the door and be ready to stop the reader if any Germans happened to be about.
Most nights it was a nightly ritual to have a walk, around your section of the camp and have a chat with anyone and everyone. Then back to your hut for a late evening drink of tea or coffee which entailed lighting up your blower to boil the water. When we then had to either get to bed or light a candle and try and read but not for long.
[cartoon drawing of brew up]
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[photograph of washing facilities]
Washing facilities of Stalag 357 Fallingbostel
Our washing and shaving facilities were very limited, with some of the camps having the washing troughs in the open, ours were inside, just a trough with cold water running along it with holes in it about 18 inches in between to allow the water to run out into another trough below. If you wanted hot water it meant you had to get the blower out find some paper - cardboard or wood to burn to get some hot water. Wood was hard to come by unless you used your bed boards, which left you with another bend in your back. So it was usually a cold water shave and not everyday.
There was a shower room but this was situated about half a mile from the camp and we were taken there under guard once in about six weeks, why it was so far from the camp no one knew.
We were searched on leaving the camp and again when we returned, what they thought we would steal from room which only had showers and all in one large room. The water was switched on for about 10 minutes so you had to be quick.
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[letter confirming POW status]
Letter received by Dick’s Father, from the Chaplain at Tolthorpe
We were allowed to write home one letter and two postcards each month, which I think most of us took the opportunity, although it took quite a long time for the first ones to come from home. My first on arrived on August 14th having been sent from home on May 28th in all I think my mail total for my stay in Germany was a total of 42. 34 from Mum and Dad and a further 8 from friends and the caterpillar club confirming I had become a member.
[photograph of family] [reverse of photograph]
Family photo Dick received, the reverse shows the German censor’s mark
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There was a lot of aircrew arriving in the camp that they had to get two large tents and add them on to the rows of huts, each one held a further hundred men which didn't help our food rations. Not long after this we were told that we were to be moved into Germany.
[underlined] Torun Stalag Luft 357 [/underlined] (Appendix 4 - iv)
The place was actually in a part of Poland which had been the Polish Corridor and was Thorn or Torun Stalag 357. So we had to get packed up and ready to go in two days as the Russians were headed our way, so it was take the essentials, our pots and pans and the blower which was used for heating water mostly; any food plus your blanket and toiletries any spare clothes, some of the Canadian families had sent things over which were ice skates and baseball bats, most of which were left behind.
A wind up gramophone was smashed up plus all the records, and on the walk to where we had to board our cattle trucks which was about two miles away the road or more like a country track for carts was littered with discarded equipment people decided they could do without.
Once we were at the train which was waiting us at the trackside, no station. We were herded into the cattle trucks, 40 persons per truck; 20 bodies in each end of the truck. The centre used for the guards. They also had a guard sitting on top of each wagon wearing goggles and had a machine gun.
This trip took us about five days and nights on a slow train to Torun (on the river Vistula), and one wasn't very clean and tidy upon arrival.
The others at Heydekrug that were being shipped by boat from the port of Memel had a very bad time on the boat as they were herded into the hold of a boat and spent between five and seven days on board in horrible conditions on the way to a camp in Germany.
Our trip by train took about five days of shake rattle and very uncomfortable and one stop a day for the toilet, and sad to say we had to use a corner of the truck to relieve ones self.
We arrived at Thorun, which was a large camp mainly army prisoners and we were crowded into huts about 120-140 per hut and the meals we had were very poor in quality and quantity. We were only there for 6 weeks and once again were on our cooks tour again, back into our 40 hommes or 6 cheveaux carriages with a small amount of straw spread across the floor which had large gaps between the floor boards and no central heating, and again another train journey of six days to our next camp which was Fallingshostel [sic] which was about 80 miles north of Hanover. This again was an army camp but now accommodated American air force as well as us British and was split into three separate camps which also included a Russian compound. (Appendix 4 - i) and ii)
Also around this time I wanted some shoes as mine were about paper thin and I managed to get a brown pair of American army boots which was just what was needed if we were going for a long walk.
The huts were the usual having two tier bunks down each side of the room and a further rows [sic] up the centre of the room, with a large stove in the centre which wasn't used as there was no fuel for it.
The cookhouse supplied us with what was called coffee and made from what we really never found out what, but we called it coffee because it was brown. The food from the cookhouse was mainly
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some sort of soup, mainly potatoes with some sauerkraut like cabbage added. Sometimes we would have a ration of corned beef which the Argentineans sent over in bulk for us and very good too. We did also had what the Germans called cheese, but it tasted very fishy but never quite found out what its origin was our supplies of Red Cross parcels were getting few and far between with so much disruption on the railway.
Where they originally intended to have one parcel person per week, we were now having to make do with one parcel for ten men and had to last them a week or longer until more arrived.
Being closer to some large towns we now had the sounds of bombers targeting them at nights, we also had some low flying Mosquitoes shooting up the railway not far from us.
We all stood outside the hut watching when one of the guards shouted at us to get inside; of course no one moved so he took his rifle off his shoulder and put a bullet in the chamber. But forgot there was one already in, so it sent a round flying out onto the ground. The old fellow looked at us shrugged his shoulders picked up the bullet and left us to watch.
[photograph of prisoners]
Prisoners of war watching allied aircraft - inside Fallingbostel
Life here was not very good as there were too many of us cramped into huts, we did have an unusual game some evenings - because as it got dusk we had some large flying insects around, about an inch to inch and half long with a hard shell body. We used to wait them and then hit them with a wooden stick, scoring two points for a certain hit and one point for a probable; you had to produce a body for the two points. But there wasn't any prizes for a high score only a mess of squashed bodies.
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[underlined] Oerbke near Fallingbostel [/underlined]
The news we had from the Germans was that during the next couple of weeks we would be leaving camp and would be marching north to a holding area somewhere near Hamburg.
Our last camp at Oerbke near Fallingbostel was very large and housed British soldiers - some Russians also American airmen, the war was drawing to a close and the Russians were approaching us from the East and the Allies from the South so the beginning of April 1945 we going to be made to leave the camp in sections and carrying all our possessions. (Appendix 4 – i) and ii)
[underlined] The Long March [/underlined]
There is more information on the Long March in appendix 3
Whatever a holding area was meant to be for and why they would want us there was never discovered. There was a lot of speculation that they were going to drive us into the Baltic and drown us or otherwise just put us in barbed wire enclosure and leave us, but they didn't.
Instead we were marched out of the camp early April to begin a long trek northwards. The first lot we were marched out of camp April 6th in parties of about 500, everybody loaded with bags and blankets a box of food, a water bottle and all your clothes which didn't amount to much. I was glad that I had been given a new pair of army boots, also an overcoat, French army blue but very thin and not very waterproof but better than nothing. We covered varying distances each day, the weather varied from wet and windy to very cold, and we were not sure where would be sleeping the next evening.
It turned out that first night which was rather wet with rain, our accommodation was a field, no trees or high hedges to shelter us so it was rather a nasty start to our walk, which was on rough tracks through farmland and we managed to collect some vegetables from fields we passed although the guards were told to shoot anyone found doing it, which meant just about everybody.
Our second night was under the stars in a field.
It was on our third day we arrived in a village and were taken in to the church for our nights lodging sleeping anywhere you could lay out on the pews and under them and in the aisles. We had to boil water outside for our tea, on our blowers.
As we progressed each day through the county we saw American aircraft by their vapour trails going on some bombing mission.
There were some days after marching or should say walking, or hobbling, that we would finish up in a farmyard, this was welcome as we soon found eggs about. Some lucky lads found barns that were not in use as the cattle were in the fields; this allowed chicken and sometimes a small pig to enter the barn which was quickly turned into a meal.
One occasion was a nice bit of garden behind a barn that was full of ripe rhubarb, must have been about 10 feet wide and 14 feet long, within a very short time it was clear, the farmer was furious, he got an officer who said he would punish any prisoner found with stewed rhubarb. He walked around
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with the farmer looking in every saucepan or a fire, in which lo and behold they were full of stewing rhubarb, he just shrugged his shoulders and that was it.
Later in the month we had to cross the river Elbe by a railway bridge, but as we approached it there was a column of tiger tanks coming over and their tracks were breaking up the road as they passed. Our guards suddenly vanished into air raid shelters and circling over the bridge was one Spitfire. With the Germans firing at him with machine guns mounted on the ends of the towers at the ends of the railway bridge, but they were nowhere near hitting him as they fired miles behind him. They were useless.
When it quietened down and the tanks had all gone our guards came out of their air raid shelter and herded us across the bridge.
We must have covered a fare [sic] distance as we have been walking every day from the 6th April and it is now midway through April and the weather is improving, but our lodgings don't improve, the villages we go through gave us drinks of water and now the guards turn a blind eye.
It must have been mid April that was about the 18th April that we stayed at a farm that was rather run down and neglected. Cow sheds were filthy and hadn't been cleared so no one could sleep in them so we were in the open up against walls. I was itching around my waist and found that it was lice, so I needed a good wash, but where so had a look around and discovered a duck pond covered in greed [sic] weed, there had to be water under the weed, so clothes off make a hole ain [sic] the weed and lower myself into about 8 inches of water and a foot of mud, it was wonderful and I got rid of a lot of the lice.
We stayed one night in a farm where the farmer had a stable for a couple of horse, on a walk round with another chap, I found this stable and it had a water tank on top, so we had a look and found a pipe leading down from the roof with a large tap at the base, we hurried back for our toiletries and towels. I said you sit in front of the tap which was about 4 inches across and I will turn it on, which I did, and oh dear the water came out with such force he shot backwards across the cobbled floor on his bottom. He said you wait until it is your turn. It was a wonderful feeling to get your self refreshed.
[underlined] 19th April 1945 [/underlined]
Still moving North on about the 19th April we were informed that at our next stopping place we were going to get a Red Cross food parcel, one parcel per man at a place named Gresse, this was very good news as it was about three weeks since we last had one.
We were walking through a rather large forest for quite some miles now and were informed that on the other side we would be issued with our parcels.
We had been living on soup some overnight stops and now and again ertzats [sic] coffee reputedly made from acorns.
So to be handed a parcel for your self was out of this world and very much needed. So we came out of the forest along a track which was about 18 feet wide and had about another 6 or 8 feet either side which was about a foot lower and then a few trees sort of along the edge after them were fields and quite a lot more trees.
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At this time we were having a rest on the track starting to open up our parcels, when we heard some aircraft flying parallel to us about half a mile away. They sounded like Hurricanes so could be ours so kept sorting our parcels, when we heard these load explosions coming down the road towards us. The aircraft turned out to be our own Typhoons equipped with rockets and cannons plus machine guns and anti personnel rockets.
I flung myself down and into the ditch which was only shallow and behind a plant which was about a foot high and about eight inches wide. it was just something to hang onto. The guard who had been sitting by a tree had been wounded and next to me an Aussie Sergeant wireless operator had been shot through his head and chest, my nearest bullet hit my boot heel, as I felt it but it just left a line across the heel.
The two others I shared everything with were Ginger Wheadon and Alec Laing, who were no where to be seen. So I decided to walk back and found Alec not far away but very shaky. So told him to stay put and I would look for Ginger, on my way back up the track, I was giving drinks of water to people who had been wounded and were waiting for treatment either shock or wounds, but couldn't find Ginger.
There were people calling out for their friends, I came across one fellow sitting by a tree with the lower part of his body a mess, although he asked me for a drink as if nothing was wrong. Just as I had given him a drink a couple of his pals came and took over whilst I carried on my search for Ginger.
At one hedge I passed there were legs sticking through so I hopefully looked on the other side, but hastily moved on as they were all there was.
There were quite a few bodies lying about on the track but not Ginger, someone suggested I looked in the fields near where we had been; a lot of men had run across them, so I did and found him but he had been hit in the chest whilst running and was dead.
He must have left his belongings in his haste as I never found them.
In Dick's Wartime log book he wrote on April 20th 1945 - "to our engineer Ginger Wheadon. Ging was killed by a bullet from a Typhoon whilst we were resting during a march on April 19th 1945, he was killed instantly. We are trying to get some of his personal kit to bring home for his Mother and Mary his girl. He was buried at a village of Heydekrug, 4km from Gresse where we had just drawn food parcels. He was buried by our Padre and a parson. The time of his death was about 12 noon.
Having looked after one or two other badly wounded lads, l went back to Ginger only to find that all his kit had been taken and his pockets empty. Some thieving B……. had pinched everything he had on him.
I only hope the food choked them and all the other things brought them the worst luck possible."
The count was 35 POW were killed also 6 of the German guards.
I searched around and found one of our seniors who I gave him Gingers name which apparently someone else had already done so after finding his name and number on his dog tags. So I returned to where I had left Alec and we moved on down the road to the next village where we stayed for the
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night in field with a couple of barns in it but some good thick hedges to bed down under and found a barn with some straw in which we used as bedding.
Dixie Deans our camp commandant spoke to the officer who was in command of the Germans guarding us to let him go through the German lines accompanied by a German officer with a safe conduct note, to then contact the Americans, and let them know that there were 20,000 allied prisoners on the line of their advance and to advise them to let their airbase know of this situation. This was done and Dixie Dean and his accompanying German officer cycled back through the lines and after sorting out the burial of our lads in the churchyard at Gresse.
They were buried in a mass grave and the German priest held a service for our lads and also the guards that were killed. (After the war the RAF personnel killed in this attack were reburied in a new Commonwealth War grave cemetery outside Berlin see appendix 2).
The injured where taken to a hospital at Boizenburg for treatment, and no doubt sent home for further treatment.
Our English Padre was to march on with the others as he would not attend the church service as it was not his parish.
That was April 19th 1945 which will always be remembered as it was just a few days before my 21st birthday which I very nearly could have missed, that was a dream that haunted me for quite some time.
We constantly saw American aircraft around but they were mainly bombers heading Hamburg way we did pass an airfield that had JU88's on it but it had been bombed and most of its aircraft destroyed.
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[War Graves Commission citation]
Ginger's burial place, to the right of the building in the distance (see Appendix 2 for cemetery map)
[underlined] The end of the War nears [/underlined]
We carried on Northwards and the farms that we stayed in were larger and did have some decent barns, but were rather a lot bodies and not everyone got in a barn. Alec and my self usually found a well and stayed out with the weather now being quite good. My birthday on the 26th April was nothing special I think maybe I had an extra piece of chocolate and maybe made a cigarette with my pipe tobacco and smoked it all myself, otherwise we usually passed them around.
It's now the beginning of May the weather is quite good and there are lots of American aircraft leaving vapour trails, we think Hamburg or ports in the North were their targets.
We settled down on the 2nd May in a small outhouse with no windows or doors just three walls and a roof that would have let in more rain than it kept out and wondering what tomorrow would bring.
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When we woke to a fine morning and made a drink someone said look all our guards have gone during the night, so we then went to find what our next move was.
We were told not to go out on the roads running North as there were German panzer troops still in that area, this information we got from an officer in jeep which came on ahead of the English and American troops who pushing the Germans back in this area.
We were then informed by Dixie Deans that we were to find some means of transport and make our own way South to Luneburg where our troops had built a pontoon bridge over the river Elbe and from there proceed to a German airfield situated near Luneburg, which had been turned into a reception area for POWs.
The area around the airfield became littered with vehicles we had acquired including a fire engine, a few tractors some civilian cars, horse and carts, motor cycles and a couple of buses.
My mode of transport was in one of the buses so had a comfortable ride to the reception centre.
May 8th 1945. The road we had to use to get the river crossing was littered on both sides with German and English military vehicles which had been bulldozed off the road so that others could get through to the pontoon bridge at Luneburg.
We spent a couple of days here being subject to a delousing period that incurred someone with a spray gun putting it down your back and front and also each trouser leg.
After which they took your particulars and you were given an identity card with your name, number, rank, and squadron number and told to find a bed in one of the huts and report back in the morning. If we had anything which we didn't need there was a bonfire on which we could get rid of old clothes not that we had much. But some of the prisoners had picked up guns and ammunition on the way which they decided to get rid of, there was a lot of exploding ammunition going off all night and the next day.
We had a breakfast of coffee and a slice of toast and then had to go on a parade ground and form up into groups of around 40 to await the arrival of aircraft for our homeward flight to England and a POW reception centre at RAF Cosford in a Dakota, used as transport and troop carrier the workhorse of the air force.
Here we were met by nurses and WAFs and again given the treatment of delousing, then a check over by doctors and lots of questions as to how you felt. Then it was a sit down meal, but our stomachs would only take a small amount, l can't remember what was on the menu but I know I could only manage a little, and a nice young WAAF sat with me and talked me into eating a little more. I really couldn't eat anymore, but had more tea so I could keep her talking with me.
We were then subject to being kitted out with new uniforms and glad to be out of the old stuff. The only [sic] I kept was my American army boots which had walked many miles or should say kilometres over German countryside, they lasted a good many years as my gardening boots. They still have the mark on the heel where a bullet from a typhoon clipped it when we were shot up.
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We only stayed at Cosford long enough to be kitted out and given some idea of how would carry on until our number for demob came up.
I had still about a year to do so was given a choice of ground trades which was, clerk in accounts, pigeon keeper or store keeper. What a choice is that it I asked and said that I didn't like any of these and wanted to be assigned to the transport division either as a driver or in admin. The Officer said he would put my choice forward but didn't think I would be lucky as so many had chosen transport as an option. So it was then we had to collect our travel warrants and any pay we had coming plus identity cards and ration book.
It was now late May and a start of long awaited leave which was for about four weeks to get me back into being fit again, I arrived from Cosford at London Road station and a neighbour who was a taxi driver happened to be at the stand and so he shouted over to me to get in his car. After putting my bags in and much hand shaking from other people I was on my way home. Mr Shuker talked all the way and got me up to date with what had been happening in Minehead Street, and upon arriving there he slowed down and hooted so people could know that he had arrived with a neighbour. There was quite a lot came out and gave me a cheer, and upon arrival at home I [sic] most of our neighbours were there with Mum, Dad and Mary. It was quite a homecoming with lots of hugs and kisses from all the close neighbours, it was something I’II never forget.
It took a while to get used to a normal bed and home routine but it was good to be home.
My two pals Ken and Derek who were both in the air force Ken was an engine maintenance engineer at fighter station, while Derek was a Corporal in the RAF police service. They managed a spot of leave whilst I was home so we spent a few days together.
The first evening they took me down to our local pub which was the Blue Moon. This was the first time for me to go out for pint.
Ken and Derek ordered pints, but I said that mine had better just be a half, which was just as well as when I got up to go the bar to order another round my legs gave way so I didn't have any more. So Ken and Derek took me home, I could manage to walk but not very steady, I guess that my system hadn't had any booze for quite some time but would get around that problem in time.
[underlined] Military Transport Training [/underlined]
My leave seemed to pass very quickly and very soon a travel warrant arrived to say that I was being posted to Melksham, and it turned out to be a course for Drivers-motor transport, I was told previously that there was no chance for this as so many had tried but were told they had no chance. Lucky me as my Aunts and Uncles all lived around this area at the village of Wingfield, so I would have some place to go at weekends.
So up one morning and off to catch the train for Melksham and becoming a driver for the air force in what sort of vehicles one wondered.
It turned out to be initial training was on vehicle maintenance as you had to be able to keep your vehicle in road worthy conditions at all times.
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We had a very rigorous course on engines and ensuring they were in good running order with oil and water checked daily, there were lectures every day on subjects such as Highway Code road traffic signs and use of hand signals and being courteous to other road users.
Our first driving lessons were with British School of Motoring civilian instructors driving mainly Austin cars, each car had three learners with tutor and took it in turns at the driving. I had some goes at driving but this was a trifle different as you had to double de clutch as if you were driving a vehicle without synchromesh gears. One instructor was very strict and if you didn't get it right he had a wooden mallet with which he used to clout your knee with, it worked well, my leg went up and down like a yoyo, after just one tap.
If you passed you then passed on to RAF instructors to learn the different types of vehicles you would encounter, these were classified as Hillman Minx used a lot by junior officers, then on to 15 cwt hundred weight [sic] for light loads, then three ton vehicles used for ration collection and general work. Progressing then to the lorries, eight ton and ten ton lorries and the five and seven ton cranes, last of all came the sixty foot long trailers for carrying aircraft when dismantled for repairs.
Having mustered [sic] this little lot you had to pass a driving test on a three ton vehicle and one of the other larger vehicles. After passing all this you had a written test on all subjects and if all was well you were given a driving certificate and were now an MT driver.
What was nice about this posting that every weekend I could spend on the farm with my Aunt and Uncle it was called Sparrow nest farm and they kept cattle for milking, and I was not at all good at milking but helped out fetching the animals in for milking and taking the milk churns on a tractor and trailer to a platform on the roadside ready for the lorry to collect which was twice a day.
Alternate weekends were spent in Wingfield village with Aunt Hilda and Uncle Bill and Granddad who was Aunt Hilda's Uncle, he and I used to play cards in the evenings and he used to beat me at cribbage quite often even though he was missing a lot of his fingers on both hands due to wounds in the First World War.
One morning I awoke and on looking out my bedroom window overlooking a field there was a white object there in a corner, so when l got up I said to my Aunt I'm just going to see what's in the field, and when I got there it was a mushroom the size of a dinner plate, yes I had it for breakfast.
Another time Granddad and I were walking down a lane when a rabbit ran out from the hedge, I had a walking stick which I threw towards it and it stopped running because I had killed it, broke its neck and so we took it home and Auntie skinned it and it made us a dinner.
I used to catch a bus from camp to Wingfield but Uncle Bill always took me back to camp on his motorbike and no crash helmet.
[underlined] Horsham [/underlined]
When I finished at Melksham I was posted to Faygate near to Horsham, it was a maintenance unit, where we were sent out to dismantle aircraft that were not required anymore.
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My vehicle that I was allocated turned out to be a six wheeled lorry a left over from the last war, a
1918 model it would not start on the starter motor so had to be towed.
I got up into the drivers seat to which there was no door only canvas panels which just hooked across also the whole cab was just canvas. The steering wheel was about 2 feet in diameter like a bus, the gear lever was about three foot tall and the handbrake was on the right side and about four feet tall, I wondered what I had let myself in for.
They towed me out of the gates with a three ton Bedford lorry on to a main road and I managed to get it started. They then left me and said over to you and don't forget that this vehicle has not got synchromesh gear so you have to double declutch on all gear changing.
After about two hours and 15 miles later I had mastered it all and found my way back to the unit.
There were no facilities for accommodation on the camp so we had to be billeted at Horsham and commute every day by train. But we were away quite often for three or four days, we spent two days at Monston [sic] airport dismantling an Avro Anson that had overshot the runway and went through a small plantation of trees, which left it a write off, so my band of lads reduced it down to a scrap heap. We had to stay there awaiting the vehicle to collect the parts so had an extra day there.
Over [sic] next trip was down to Boscombe near to Bournemouth and we were told we would be there for four or five days as we had to dismantle quite a lot of spitfires which had been made redundant at Christchurch airfield. So we had to look for accommodation in Boscombe, which we found in a Salvation Army hostel and had five days there.
I parked my lorry in the railway goods yard as there would be someone with a vehicle there to give you a tow in the morning. The old lady surprised me one morning and started first time on the starter motor but that was the only time.
That was my only trip with her as t was assigned to a brand new three ton Bedford lorry. It was the same that we trained on at Melksham and I was to use it to collect all the supplies for the officers mess also all the others so had quite a decent job, also whenever we had rations to collect I was
accompanied by a WAAF which was a nice change from a load of lads.
I was checking tyre pressures and as these vehicles were equipped with its own air pump driven by the motor it was quite simple, but as I was checking one of the front tyres the wind blew the drivers door open and I stood up and hit my head on a corner and finished up flat out, not very long though but decided I had better go to sick quarters and get patched up as it was bleeding a lot. I passed a few people who asked if I was okay but I just said yes and they carried on. At sick bay they patched me up and I went back to finish the job and the motor was still running. So switched off, locked up and retired to the mess prior to catching the train.
[underlined] Egypt??? [/underlined]
Next day I was back into camp and was informed that I was moving on. It was that I was being posted to Egypt, l made a request to see our commanding officer who was an ex aircrew Squadron Leader, saying that I wasn't happy being posted abroad and that I had done my bit for the country and thought it most unfair as there were lots of people who hadn't left England.
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He listened to me and yes, he saw my complaint but he didn't think he could alter the decision and if I gave it a bit of thought, look at it as a holiday paid for by the Government for what you went through. So, yes that sounds reasonable and I'll go along with that, and thanked him. He said he wished me well and try to enjoy your cruise. He would have liked to have joined me, he said.
Went home for a spot of leave and got ready for my next forage into the unknown.
I was then sent a travel warrant for an air force camp situated at Newhaven to be kitted out with my overseas uniform, two khaki shirts and shorts plus long trousers and socks, then some inoculations for tropical diseases then were claimed ready for travel.
We were then told we would be travelling by the Medlock route that is from Newhaven to Dieppe in France by boat and thence by train down to Marseilles where we would be shipped across the Mediterranean to Egypt.
After the trip across to France at night we then continued through Switzerland and snow, it was very cold, but the villages on the mountainsides looked like the one on postcards very romantic amongst the snow. The French trains were not the cleanest but must have moved a lot of British service men since the war had ended over here.
At Marseilles we left the trains at the docks and boarded an American Liberty boat for the next part of the journey. We were shown into the first deck which was fitted out with beds in tiers of three the whole width of the ship and about forty or fifty foot in length. I managed to get one of the lower ones. When we settled in I was told and shown to the bakery, and was put in charge of 6 airmen which was very good as we had very new bread at our meal times. The six airmen worked well and we got along very well with the American crew.
We set sail in the evening and had a quiet evening up on deck, the weather was calm so after supper decided to turn in but couldn't sleep, the motion of the ship wasn't helping me and it took ages for me to eventually nod off.
Our second day went well and my lads and I ate well, but this next night we had a storm and Liberty boats are welded together not riveted and creaks in every joint. I wasn't very happy but just kept lifting the bows up after it went down in a trough. Didn't get much sleep and was glad to reach Alexandria and then taken to a camp at Damunbur and it was very hot and our accommodation was in tents that were built over three foot deep dugouts which gave you a bit more head room than just a tent. We stayed here for about three weeks.
[underlined] To Italy [/underlined]
But apparently there was nothing for us in our line of work required here so we were shipped back across the Mediterranean to Naples in Italy, where we stayed for a couple of days. We made the most of it seeing a part of the world and some of the Roman era, also there were plenty of young and very beautiful senoritas.
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[photograph]
Stanco, Dick's dog
We stayed in Naples for two days and were then told that we would be moving on to any [sic] airfield a few miles outside of Udine in a northern village of Potsuolo, which was the desert air force headquarters known as D.A.F.H.Q. Here were 3 squadrons which flew Mustang fighters. We were attached to DAF headquarters transport section and did all the movement of materials and stuff. This was very good as it entailed collecting the rations from stores which was about twenty miles away, but the roads in places was awful and stony. One item was an open top tin of jam which an Italian was carrying in the back, unfortunately a back tyre exploded like a bomb going off, my poor Italian thought he had been shot as he was covered in jam. After changing the wheel we continued back to camp.
[photograph]
Potsuolo
Another job we had was taking personnel up to our leave hotel up in the mountains for a week at a time and the driver stayed with them and drove them to scenic places, one of which was a lake about thirty miles trip, but was well worth seeing. It was but the road was very rough running along the side of the mountains our wheels were on the very edge of a few thousand foot drop and were running on
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a log which had been built into the road where the edge had fallen away, very bad for the nerves. Other places were when crossing over the bridges from one side of the mountain to the other. These were just planks of wood about three inches thick and about ten or twelve inches wide about fourteen feet long spaced about six inches apart on wooden beams. There was just enough room to get the vehicle around the ends onto the bridge, I only bent the tool box that was on the chassis when we were going.
[photograph]
Dead Slow Ahead!
It was a wonderful place called Cortina quite scenic we stayed for lunch and then I decided to return knowing it was a long way back and I would be on the outside looking down into the valley.
I said to the chap sitting next to me when we get to the logs set into the road edge, tell me how much room I've got your side, his remark was that my side mirror was about two inches from the rock wall which meant when I looked out that my wheels were running on the top of the logs, my legs shook a bit but I thought we came through this way so should be okay going back hopefully.
[photograph]
Dick's leave hotel in Forni Avolti, to the left of the church with a cross marked on the roof
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The hotel was very good and there were quite a few locals and there was a lady there with her daughter, the mother worked in the hotel and her daughter who was about 10 or 12 decided that when a few of the locals and us went for walks she would come and hold my hand and look after me, her name was Tina. We walked across one field and the melting snow had made a three or four foot wide stream down the grass, there was about twelve in the group and it was decided to jump instead of finding a place to cross. We all decided it was no problem just a short jump should do it, but it didn't. I think we all had very wet legs far the rest of our walk, but we all enjoyed it.
[photograph]
Tina and Friends
Most evenings there were four musicians who would play for us, sometimes a good old sing song of tunes of the times, and that led into dance music which was very tiring, as the girls that worked there kept going most of the evening and made sure we kept up with them. Lana the Austrian girl if she got hold of you your feet hardly touched the ground. But they were all good fun. The week passed very quickly and it was drive them back to camp and back to work.
Every other week we were duty driver for a day, which meant servicing the commanding officers vehicles; that he wanted to use that day. You had to knock on his caravan door and go in and ask him which of his three vehicles he required that day. From a jumble of blankets a voice would say either Merc or Jep or Util, which interpreted was either Mercedes or Jeep or his Utility, so you checked all three to make sure you got it right. You were busy taking officers to meetings and also running them into town to various places sometimes just so they could do some shopping.
[underlined] On the Road to Bari [/underlined]
Some days I was office boy handing out jobs to the drivers, this I didn't like as I would rather be out driving, and I was very lucky, our M.T officer who was also ex aircrew said he had a job for three vehicles to go down to Bari, where they were closing down an airfield and we had to bring back the furniture from the officers mess. Would I like to be one of the drivers? Of course that would be very nice, he then said and I shall be going as well to make sure we bring back the right things. So my friend another ex aircrew now a driver and the third driver was a corporal who had spent quite some time in Italy and knew his way around. We also had three airmen armed with rifles as guards, on to each vehicle so we had all the bodies required for the trip.
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[photograph]
On the Road to Bari
So it was up early one morning, pack the essentials for the trip which we had no idea how long we would be, so we took a change of clothes for it [sic] we went out in the evening at some stage of the journey.
Out [sic] first stop was at Rimini which was a holiday resort on the coast and there was an air force station there where we could find a bed for the night.
We left Udine and passed by Venice into Padova then for Ferrari, the roads were quite good but the towns and villages had been taken quite a bit of damage. From here we headed for Ravenna on the Adriatic coast. It again was a holiday resort; like most places took a lot of damage, then on to Rimini and a well earned rest. Out [sic] mileage for this leg of our journey was approximately 432 kilometres.
Some of the vehicles we passed on the way were rather weary, the loads they carried were unreal some were the width of the lorry but finished up twice the width at the top. The tyres were smooth and the engines were held together with bits of wire. The Italians were noted for have good mechanics, we had one of them in our section who could just listen to an engine running and get to the cause of the trouble straight away.
Back to our trip, we left Rimini the next morning after checking our vehicles and filling up with petrol heading for our next stop which was to be Rome. Our next road was heading inland across Italy into the more agricultural part of Italy, the traffic was very mainly bullock carts with four of them in the shafts pulling very large loads which hung over the sides and took up a lot of road space. Also we kept passing a lot of women and children carrying canes on their heads and shoulders, l thought that if one turned to chat with another it would cause chaos down the line if we hit them.
One thing that we noticed was the lack of bridges crossing the roads, mostly the countryside was very flat and were either agricultural or cattle. The towns and villages we passed through were a bit showing the signs of war damage and were trying to get back to normal. In the villages there were always lots of children on the streets and all were begging for chocolate, no doubt remembering the times the Americans were there.
We reached Rome in the evening and found the army barracks were we to stay the night, we all decided we would have an early night as tomorrow was a shorter trip and we could spend a little more time in Naples which we did. The road from Rome was fairly good although there was plenty of damaged buildings everywhere and not much building taking place although it was mainly getting the
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places ready for residents to return to repair jobs mostly. Although in Naples we found that the night life was very much alive, and we spent a few hours around the night clubs, and the officer and we two warrant officers were quite happy after consuming numerous bottles of wine with some very good food. And so to bed quite happy, not looking forward the next day's trip which was going to be a long one.
Up early the next morning and had a good breakfast and refuelled our vehicles and away on the road to Bari which is situated on the North coast of Italy, known as the heel of Italy. The road out of Naples was very busy with most vehicles having enormous loads and engulfed in a fog which we were glad to leave behind and over to our right was Mount Vesuvius but only a trickle of smoke from it. We were then heading North East and the road was less busy, and was pretty rough, villages we passed through had been very heavily damaged. We stopped for a meal or I should say a sandwich, and a family in a nearby house were having their spaghetti, there was an old lady with a plate full which was devoured in a very few minutes, guess she was hungry.
[photograph]
Still on the Road to Bari
We pressed on as it was starting to look like we were going to head into some rather wet weather, we did, and finding the place we wanted was not easy. The leading lorry with our officer and corporal driving, found what they thought was the right track to the airfield which turned out to be a very narrow road just wide enough for one lorry. After about a mile the road finished and we were left with the prospect of reversing all the way back to the main road in the pouring rain. There was no where we could have turned round as the fields had been ploughed on both sides. So about half an hour later three very wet headed drivers, a very wet officer and a guard who had walked back along the track with torches to guide us. We found the right road and got to our destination, and a good hot meal was very welcome.
I seem to remember that we didn't need much rocking to sleep.
We found out the next morning after breakfast that what we were collecting was a lot of electrical equipment which was too valuable to leave and could be useful elsewhere along with quite a lot of furniture from the officers quarters some of which turned out to be large mirrors about 5 foot high by 3 foot wide with a very ornate surround, and I don't recollect whether they survived the journey, it would have been very lucky if they had. Our three young guards did alright and had an armchair for the ride back. After we had packed everything into the lorries it was dinner time, so we had a very
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good meal and washed down with some very nice wine, and decided to stay the night here and start at 8am the next morning, so we had a look round Bari which had a good port for ferries to Yugoslavia across the Adriatic. Retired to our beds ready for the start back.
The trip back to Naples was uneventful but in Naples our guards had their hands full keeping loads of youngsters from climbing up the sides of the Lorries and stealing anything. Most of what we had was furniture which was stacked on top of the wireless equipment so they left empty handled.
It was evening time when we finally arrived in Naples so didn't go very far around the town just had a drink or two and then retired to bed.
Next morning it is up and away on our next leg to Rome where we hoped to spend a little time looking around the place as there is plenty to see, and walked around the centre of the Coliseum where the gladiators did their acts, and I was glad that I wasn't acting in it, and I think the lions that did an act had already eaten that day.
[photograph]
Coliseum Rome
Later on we found a good restaurant where we had a good meal washed down with a very good Italian wine, and walked back to our billets in an army barracks and so to bed.
Not looking forward to our next trip as it is a long run and not very scenic from Rome up to Rimini, mainly farming country and only a couple of towns on the way, the one consolation was that it stayed fine all the way.
Rimini was an army controlled town so there were lots of tanks and all types of weaponry around and we stayed in army barracks that night and we were up early the next morning as it was a long trip back to Udine.
We took the road out of Rimini for Rarenna along the coast, hence our next town was Venice where we stopped for a short rest and found a restaurant for a meal which was steak mushrooms and tomatoes washed down with a red wine, very nice too.
We were then only a couple of hours from our destination and our own beds. The whole trip had taken us about ten days, but that said the items we brought back was it worth it.
Overall we had a good look at how the Italians lived and were good mechanics, as they managed to keep their Lorries on. the road tied together with lots of wire and a lot more faith.
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We had a football team made up of NCOs and we played against teams from other ranks and also from the squadron that was stationed here. I was given the position of right wing and was usually up against a six foot left back of the opposing team, I don't think we won many of our matches, but it was a bit of good fun.
[photograph]
Military Transport Football Team
It is now getting into September and we are still living in tents, and have had a lot of rain recently and the camp was rather badly flooded, my other occupant and I were lucky our tent survived the storm, we had a lot of tents blown down and the roads were flooded and it took quite a while for everywhere to dry out.
Our leave hotel in Grado on the coast was popular and we ran an evening bus most nights, and it was one of my jobs as a driver to take the bus down to the town at 5pm and collect them again at 10pm from the town square. Most made it in time and on my trips we seemed lucky and didn't have any missing bodies, most of them were quite happy. I had four days leave and stayed in our leave hotel, very nice food and comfortable beds also there were grapevines where we had breakfast, so grapes were on the menu every morning. First thing after breakfast I went down the road and at the store shop used to buy a melon and take back to the hotel and have a waiter cut a square hole in it and put in a good portion of wine then put it in the fridge and have it with our evening meal, very nice finished the meal with it.
[underlined] Mercy Mission to Egypt [/underlined]
it was around September 15th that I had a call from the office of the Adjutant to tell me that I had been given ten days leave to go to a hospital in Egypt where my brother Bob was ill, and it would help him return to good health if he had a relative to see him. I was staggered and amazed as I had no idea of his whereabouts and that he was ill.
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18.9.1946. So I had to sort my kit out what I would require and managed to pack it in my small side pack. I then had to collect the pass and papers needed and so to Udine airport, arrived there at an early hour as flight was at 9.00am in a Dakota aircraft next stop Rome. Had a hotel for my overnight stay and very nice too, good food and bed and a very good night sleep.
My flight next morning which was to be about nine hours leaving Rome at ten past seven in the morning and we landed in Malta at 9.45 to refuel the aircraft had a drink there then left for our next stop which was El Adam in North Africa. Only stayed fifty minutes again to refuel and left at 4pm for our next stop at Almaza which we arrived at 6.30pm which was my stopping off place for Cairo.
I was driven to the Heliopolis hotel and shown to my room and then taken to the dining room and had a good meal.
I was very hot after being quite cool in Italy so changed into my shorts, but it was still very sticky hot, so decided to have an early night see what tomorrow brings.
! was up early as the night was very hot and I didn't get much sleep. I had a good breakfast and had to sit around and await my transport to the hospital.
20th September a car arrived and I was driven to the Helmieh hospital, where I was taken to meet the colonel of the hospital, who welcomed me and hoped my presence would help in Bob's recovery. He then told me I was to be accommodated at the Sergeants mess of the main hospital. There were numerous sections to the hospital, a fracture unit, dental unit, isolation unit which Bob was in eye and ear unit, it was quite a large place.
I was issued with a pass the [sic] to the isolation ward in which Bob was in with note to say the above named warrant officer was permitted to visit his brother signalman Curnock in isolation ward 1 and full preventative measures should be taken.
The sister I gave the note to just laughed gave me back the note, took me by the arm and gave me a hug, and said how lovely it was that I was able to have leave to go there, and then she took me to see Bob. He was surprised as he had no idea where I was, but he was very thin, white, and I looked like an Indian next to him as in a photo of us together.
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[photograph] [photograph]
Dick and Bob at Helmieh hospital, Egypt
My time at the hospital was spent on visits to Bob every day, having a game of snooker with some of the other members of the mess, or at other times some of the nurses and sister would ask me to escort them into Cairo to do a spot of shopping which I did quite willingly.
My ten days leave passed rather quickly, but when I rang the air booking centre in Cairo, I wasn't on any of the flights so had to wait another week. In fact it was the 25th October before my flight for Italy was finally here, so I had about 6 weeks of a 10 day leave.
Each unit had its own Sergeants mess and most evenings there was entertainment in one of them. Once or twice a week there was horse racing in one of them, and in the dental mess one night they had a Derby meeting, the horses were bid for at the start and I bought number two for two pounds after bidding against the colonel. And it won the race and I was twenty two pounds richer for a while, but lost a bit on the following races, good fun though.
The other entertainment was a quiz night which was quite hilarious, with answers to some questions quite ridiculous but funny. Others had classes which were well attended by all, as we had lots of nurses and sisters to make a good evening of it.
At another sergeants mess they held a bingo night with some other entertainment as bingo wasn't very popular.
In the sergeants mess some of them had nicknames, one was known as bash he was a boxer in Civvy Street; we also had a slash as he was always cutting himself when shaving, so I had to have one and was known as the parachute kid.
We had a snooker table in the mess and I had plenty of practice on it as I had quite a lot of time to fill in.
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Time passed and I finally had my seat booked for my return to Italy. So then I had to say my farewells to all the friends that I had made during my stay and to Bob of course and also I went to see the colonel and thanks him for all they had done for Bob and also making my stay a pleasant one.
[underlined] Dakota back to Italy – Treviso [/underlined]
So on the 26th October my flight was at 6.30am so was up early for the return journey. One of the sergeants had said the night before that he would take me to the airport as he was duty driver for that day. So once again I joined up with a Dakota of the South African Air force at Almaja airport stopping at El Adam to refuel then on to Malta where we stayed the night. The next day we were away at seven am on the last leg to Rome.
At Rome airport I was informed that the personnel of the 239 Wing Desert Air Force; had been moved to a place called Treviso so that where I was being sent. They said my kit had been transferred already so I had to get to this place, but found out that I was booked on a flight to an aerodrome just outside of Treviso.
[photograph]
Sergeants Mess Treviso 1945, Dick and friend
There was transport at the aerodrome and I was taken to our sergeant mess which was a town villa in Treviso and was shown to my room and where I was reunited with my kit bag.
This was luxury after living in tents for a long period with wash basins and baths and there were ladies to do your laundry and any repairs to your clothes.
I certainly enjoyed having a nice hot bath and retiring to a good bed and hoped that I wasn't to be moved again, as I had had enough of travelling for a while.
At Treviso it was usual routine doing runs into town and around the airfield, towing petrol trailers around to the aircraft for refuelling. Also fetching blocks of ice for the bars of the officers and sergeants also messes of other ranks. By the time you got back to camp there was a lot of water in the back of the truck and you had to lift blocks of wet ice into the various messes, a cold job.
From Treviso it was only a few miles into Venice and we spent a few weekends there, and got to do a lot of walking, you could have a gondola ride but they charged the earth, so we usually walked.
St Marco's square was very popular with lots of shops and cafes around. There was an abundant supply of jewellery shops and also the square had hundreds of pigeons, making it quite messy.
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There was a bell tower in one corner which had a large bell on the top. Apparently an Italian gent decided to inspect it too close and his head flattened by the bell hammer, very nasty.
There were lots of bridges over the canals and as you went into the centre where they had warehouses it was a rather different place, the canals were not so dean, and people living alongside them just threw rubbish out of the windows, not a good healthy environment to live in.
We found a very good restaurant in Treviso down a back street a very smart little place, who did beef steaks, which you could pick from a large selection and then you could see them being cooked and you then selected what you wanted with it.
Time passed very quickly at Treviso and was January before we realised suddenly that our demob numbers would be coming up soon. And it was January when we were told that some of us were going home and that we could be going to Villach in Austria to catch a train for the trip across Austria, Switzerland and France and home.
The day arrived when we were notified that we had reached the final week in Italy and would travel by train to Villach, and thence start our journey home. We cleared with all the necessary forms as was needed, paid any mess bills and said our farewells to rest of the transport department and was then taken to the station.
It was an uneventful journey to Villach where we had to stay overnight and there was thick snow there and rather cold with long icicles from roves [sic] of our huts.
[photograph]
Villach - with icicles
I met up with some of the other lads who had travelled with me on our trip out earlier, when we were leaving; waiting on the road for transport to the station a whole lot of youngsters arrived with sledges, so all we had to carry was our small kit, the kit bags were loaded on the sledges and so on to the station.
Our train was in and so we went aboard with kit bags on the corridors and rest of our kit on the racks, it was then that we all got into the spirit of finally going home. The trains were French so the toilets had no seat, just two places for your feet and a hole in the middle, not very comfortable.
With it being January everywhere was very white with snow and I took some pictures of the mountains as we passed into Switzerland which was wonderful. Coming out of a tunnel on the
47
[page break]
mountainside and there was a village and it appeared to just be hanging on. It went on like this from many miles as we went through Switzerland and into France.
[photograph]
Switzerland from the train
We stopped in Paris station for a hot drink and a sandwich and managed to have a wash and brush up before our next stop which was to be Dieppe and a channel crossing to Newhaven.
The trip over was uneventful but the sea was rather rough and there were one or two heaving stomachs to prove it, and we arrived in the dock, and then when we had sorted out our kit bags from a very large heap, the train was waiting in the station to take us to the demob centre, which was at No 101 Dispersal centre at Kirkham in Lancashire.
This was the place where you returned to civilian life once again. It is now the 21st January 1947 about to sort out from a large selection of shirts, underwear and suits and find some that is a reasonable fit. After which you went and tried on the items you had selected and handed in your uniform, well most of it, l remember that there was a shirt, a pair of shorts and some desert socks along with the boots that I wore during our sight seeing tour of Germany. Then you had to see numerous sections who dealt with your pay due to you and the amount of leave which turned out to be eighty days from the 21st January 1947.
You then had to collect your travel warrant, your pay also was entered in the back of your service release book and you had to collect it from the post office when it was due, and they would date stamp it in the back of your pay book.
My return home was a wonderful feeling after all my travels. At the station the neighbour of ours who had a taxi cab saw me and had me in his cab very quickly.
Upon arriving at Minehead Street the first thing I saw was the street still decorated with flags and bunting after the end of the war in Japan and not for me.
Mr Shuker sounded his horn and slowed down and there were a lot of people came out to welcome me home and of course Mum, Dad and Mary and our close neighbours were all waiting and I was smothered with their welcome.
And so I looked forward to a nice long holiday and getting used to civilian life once more.
48
[page break]
[underlined] Reunions [/underlined]
Dick's mother (Arabella Curnock) had welcomed several of the Canadian crew members into her home, and had corresponded with members of their families back home in Canada during the war.
Bob Friskey's wife Isabella in Abbotsford also wrote to Dick and Barbara after their marriage, as well as continuing to correspond with Dick's mother. It was from them that the news came that "Chuck" committed suicide some time after returning home.
Rob died sometime after, but Isabella continued to write to Dick.
Wes and his (Scottish) wife Mae made contact again sometime in the 1970s, when Dick received a phone call at the Thurmaston plant of Thorpe and Porter where he worked. The call was from the railway station in Leicester where Wes and Mae were - accompanied by the youngest of their five sons!
Dick went to pick them up, and they stayed overnight with [sic] at Queniborough before carrying on their journey to Scotland. Wes and Mae paid a short visit to Dick's mother, as Wes had stayed with her during the war when on leave.
In 1984 a lady who lived on Upperton Road (Mrs Tobin) was clearing out a house on Minehead Street (no 59) which was formally the Curnock family home. Amongst the papers was an unopened letter from Eugene Fullum in Montreal. She looked in the phone book and found a R Curnock and rang and this got Dick and Eugene back in touch.
[photograph]
Eugene and Dick 1985 (Leicester Mercury photo)
Eugene came over the UK in 1985, and when Dick and he met it was the first time they had seen each other since the police station in Germany the day after they had been shot down.
49
[page break]
[photograph]
RAF Prisoner of War insignia
[photograph]
Gordon, Eugene, Dick, Wes, 1987 Reunion
50
[page break]
[photograph]
Dick in the rear gunner position of a Halifax bomber; at Elvington, Yorks. 2004
[photograph]
Dick exiting the Halifax, the last time he did this, the Halifax was on fire and he was about to parachute into enemy territory
51
[page break]
Appendix 1 – Dick’s RAF flying log book – 17.7.1943 to 25.8.1947
i) Gunnery course results
[document]
52
[page break]
Appendix 1 - ii) gunnery training
[flight log book document]
53
[page break]
Appendix 1 – iii) 22 O.T.U.
[flight log book document]
54
[page break]
Appendix 1 – iv) 22 O.T.U.
[flight log book document]
55
[page break]
Appendix 1 – v) 22 O.T.U.
[flight log book document]
56
[page break]
Appendix 1 – vi) 22 O.T.U.
[flight log book document]
57
[page break]
Appendix 1 – vii) 1664 Conversion Unit
[flight log book document]
58
[page break]
Appendix 1 – viii) 1664 Conversion Unit
[flight log book document]
59
[page break]
Appendix 1 – ix) 425 Squadron – shows the last mission Dick flew to Augsburg
[flight log book document]
60
[page break]
Appendix 1 – x) Flights to and from Egypt to visit Bob
[flight log book document]
61
[page break]
Appendix 2
[drawing of Berlin War Cemetery]
Ginger Wheadon is buried in 6.B.19
62
[page break]
Appendix 3 -The March - source Wikipedia
"The March" refers to a series of forced marches during the final stages of the Second World War in Europe. From a total of 257,000 western Allied prisoners of war held in German military prison camps, over 80,000 POWs were forced to march westward across Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Germany in extreme winter conditions, over about four months between January and April 1945. This series of events has been called various names: "The Great March West", "The Long March", "The Long Walk", "The Long Trek", "The Black March", "The Bread March", and "Death March Across Germany", but most survivors just called it "The March".
As the Soviet Army was advancing, German authorities decided to evacuate POW camps, to delay liberation of the prisoners. January and February 1945 were among the coldest winter months of the 20th century in Europe, with blizzards and temperatures as low as -25 O C and even until the middle of March, temperatures were well below 0 O C Most of the POWs were ill-prepared for the evacuation, having suffered years of poor rations and wearing clothing ill-suited to the appalling winter conditions.
In most camps, the POWs were broken up in groups of 250 to 300 men and because of the inadequate roads and the flow of battle, not all the prisoners followed the same route. The groups would march 20 to 40 kilometers a day - resting in factories, churches, barns and even in the open. Soon long columns of POWs were wandering over the northern part of Germany with little or nothing in the way of food, clothing, shelter or medical care.
Prisoners from different camps had different experiences: sometimes the Germans provided farm wagons for those unable to walk. There seldom were horses available, so teams of POWs pulled the wagons through the snow. Sometimes the guards and prisoners became dependent on each other, other times the guards became increasingly hostile. Those with intact boots had the dilemma of whether to remove them at night - if they left them on, trench foot could result; if they removed them, they may not get their swollen feet back into their boots in the morning or, worse, the boots may freeze or be stolen.
With so little food they were reduced to scavenging to survive. Some were reduced to eating dogs and cats and grass-anything they could lay their hands on. Already underweight from years of prison rations, some were at half their pre-war body weight by the end.
Because of the unsanitary conditions and a near starvation diet, hundreds of POWs died of disease along the way and many more were ill. Dysentery was common; sufferers had the indignity of soiling themselves whilst having to continue to march, and being further weakened by the debilitating effects of illness. This disease was easily spread from one group to another when they followed the same route and rested in the same places. Many POWs suffered from frostbite which could lead to gangrene. Typhus, spread by body lice, was a risk for all POWs, but was now increased by using overnight shelter previously occupied by infected groups. Some men simply froze to death in their sleep.
In addition to these conditions were the dangers from air attack by Allied forces mistaking the POWs for retreating columns of German troops. On April 19, 1945, at a village called Gresse, 30 Allied POWs died and 30 were seriously injured (possibly fatally) in a "friendly-fire" situation when strafed by a flight of RAF Typhoons.
63
[page break]
As winter drew to a close, suffering from the cold abated and some of the German guards became less harsh in their treatment of POWs. But the thaw rendered useless the sledges made by many POWs to carry spare clothing, carefully preserved food supplies and other items. So, the route became littered with items that could not be carried. Some even discarded their greatcoats, hoping that the weather did not turn cold again. As the columns reached the western side of Germany they ran into the advancing western Allied armies. For some, this brought liberation. Others were not so lucky. They were marched towards the Baltic Sea, where Nazis were said to be using POWs as human shields and hostages. It was later estimated that a large number of POWs had marched over five hundred miles by the time they were liberated, and some had walked nearly a thousand miles.
64
[page break]
Appendix 4 – i) Stalag Luft 357 – long march route, and camp numbering correction information
Red Cross map of prisoner of war camps
[map]
65
[page break]
Appendix 4 – ii) Stalag Luft 357 and long march route
[map]
66
[page break]
Appendix 4 – iii) Blue cross in circle marks where Dick was shot down. Red Cross near Frankfurt where he was moved to
[map]
67
[page break]
Appendix 4 – iv) Red line shows routes taken by Dick. Torun (Thorn) camp shown
[map]
68
[page break]
Appendix 4 – v) Poznan – Stalag XXI
[map]
69
[page break]
Appendix 4 – vi) Stalag Luft VI – Lithuania
[map]
70
[page break]
26th April 2014
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Title
A name given to the resource
My War Story
Description
An account of the resource
A memoir written by Dick Curnock. It covers his wartime service and also his service after the war for the RAF. It covers his brother Sam and his accident as a pilot. Dick started his training at Lords in London, Bridlington then Bridgnorth and Dalcross. Next move was to Wellesbourne where he crewed up and practised bombing from a Wellington, then Dishforth for conversion on to Halifaxes. His squadron was 425 at Tholthorpe and he undertook night flying training. On his second operation he was shot down near Augsburg. He was taken prisoner and interrogated before being transferred to Stalag Luft VI. He describes his life there. As the Russians got nearer they were transferred by cattle truck to Stalag Luft 357 at Torun. Next they were subjected to the Long March in April 1945. During this the flight engineer, Ginger Wheadon was shot by an RAF Typhoon. After being liberated and returning to the UK he served briefly in Egypt then Italy as an RAF transport driver. During this time he went to Egypt to visit his brother, Bob who was ill in Cairo. Eventually he was demobbed from Italy via Austria and Paris.
Creator
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Dick Curnock
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2014-04-26
Format
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71 printed sheets
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
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BCurnockRMCurnockRMv1
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.
Austria
Austria--Villach
Canada
British Columbia--Abbotsford
Québec--Montréal
Egypt
Egypt--Cairo
France
France--Paris
Gibraltar
Germany
Germany--Augsburg
Germany--Darmstadt
Germany--Schweinfurt
Great Britain
England--Bridlington
England--Horsham
England--Leicester
England--London
England--Melksham
Italy
Italy--Bari
Italy--Cortina d'Ampezzo
Italy--Naples
Italy--Padua
Italy--Ravenna
Italy--Rimini
Italy--Rome
Italy--Udine
Italy--Venice
Malta
North Africa
Poland--Toruń
Germany--Lüneburg
Poland
Lithuania
Poland--Żagań
Lithuania--Šilutė
Germany--Bad Fallingbostel
England--Christchurch (Dorset)
Québec
England--Dorset
England--Leicestershire
England--Yorkshire
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
Peter Bradbury
22 OTU
420 Squadron
425 Squadron
431 Squadron
434 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
animal
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
arts and crafts
bale out
bomb aimer
C-47
Caterpillar Club
crash
crewing up
Dulag Luft
final resting place
flight engineer
ground personnel
Halifax
Halifax Mk 3
Heavy Conversion Unit
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
Hurricane
Ju 88
lynching
mess
Morse-keyed wireless telegraphy
navigator
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
P-51
pilot
prisoner of war
RAF Boscombe Down
RAF Bridgnorth
RAF Bridlington
RAF Cosford
RAF Dishforth
RAF Elvington
RAF Gaydon
RAF Inverness
RAF Manston
RAF Tholthorpe
RAF Wellesbourne Mountford
Red Cross
sanitation
service vehicle
sport
Stalag Luft 3
Stalag Luft 6
strafing
the long march
training
Typhoon
Wellington
Whitley
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/501/22508/MCurnockRM1815605-171114-005.2.pdf
5ed5184d548c691254d5bd0fa7c7778b
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Curnock, Richard
Richard Murdock Curnock
R M Curnock
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
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Curnock, RM
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-04-18
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Description
An account of the resource
92 items. An oral history interview with Warrant Officer Richard Curnock (1924, 1915605 Royal Air Force), his log book, letters, photographs and prisoner of war magazines. He flew operations with 425 Squadron before being shot down and becoming a prisoner of war.
The collection has been licenced to the IBCC Digital Archive by Richard Curnock and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
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Title
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The Kriegie August 1988
Description
An account of the resource
The News Sheet of the RAF ex-POW Association. Inside are articles about reunions and attendances, the annual dinner at Henlow, Massed Bands Spectacular, request for information about the POW camp newspaper - Daily Recco, the 1997 Remembrance Day Parade, Branch activities, Far-Eastern Campaigns Memorial, Obituaries, Friends and Sisters, the Barth Memorial, the Shuttleworth Collection, Reunions in Halifax and Ottawa, the Annual dinner, Books about POW life, a visit to RAF Elvington's new Canadian Memorial Hangar and a visit to the Caterpillar Club at Irvin Aeropspace.
Creator
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The RAF ex-POW Association
Date
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1998-08
Format
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16 printed sheets
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Identifier
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MCurnockRM1815605-171114-005
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Canadian Air Force
South African Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Birmingham
England--Stafford
England--Croydon
Canada
Ontario--Thunder Bay
Germany--Barth
Ontario--Ottawa
Nova Scotia--Halifax
Italy--Sicily
Gibraltar
Malta
England--Letchworth
Italy
Ontario
Germany
Nova Scotia
England--Herefordshire
England--Staffordshire
England--Warwickshire
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.
107 Squadron
158 Squadron
38 Squadron
50 Squadron
619 Squadron
70 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
B-17
bale out
Battle
Blenheim
Boston
C-47
Catalina
Caterpillar Club
Conspicuous Gallantry Medal
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
Dulag Luft
entertainment
Goldfish Club
ground personnel
Halifax
Hampden
Harvard
Horsa
Hurricane
Ju 88
Me 109
Me 110
memorial
mess
Mosquito
Operational Training Unit
Pathfinders
prisoner of war
RAF Dunholme Lodge
RAF Elvington
RAF Hendon
RAF Leeming
RAF Lissett
RAF Lossiemouth
RAF Shipdham
RAF Ternhill
Red Cross
shot down
Spitfire
Stalag 8B
Stalag Luft 1
Stalag Luft 3
Stirling
the long march
training
Typhoon
Wellington
Whitley
wireless operator
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1590/25409/BNicholsJEKNicholsJEKv1.1.jpg
cbe50360a1b926785f807c8f91e86d36
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
Nicholls, Jill Ethel Kathleen
J E K Nicholls
Thomson, Jill Ethel Kathleen
Goodfellow, Jill Ethel Kathleen
Description
An account of the resource
57 items. The collection concerns Jill Nicholls (b. 1921, 2011088 Royal Air Force). The collection contains documents, photographs, mementos and a considerable number of poems. It also contains an album in a sub-collection with documents, newspaper cuttings and photographs.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Julie Stocks and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2020-02-01
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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Nicholls, JEK
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
Memories of R.A.F. Elvington from,
Jill Ethel Kathleen Nicholls. W.A.A.F. (Cpl)
I was posted to 77 SQD M.T. Section R.A.F. Elvington from Middleton-St. George near Darlington, arriving on a very cold November day in 1942. W.A.A.F. quarters were not completed at that time, and we were billeted in a nissen hut some distance from the Camp.
Initally, [sic] the M.T. Section was situated in an old farm house on the Aerodrome. I was detailed to drive a 30 cwt. Bedford for the W.T. Section. We did of course have other driving duties from crew coaches to tractors but mainly I stayed with the W.T during my Service at Elvington.
There was quite a lot of social life on Camp e.g. film shows, musical evenings, local and E,N,S,A, [sic] concerts, Mess parties and of course the liberty bus to York. Betty’s Bar was much frequented by the R.A.F in those days and the local pub at Elvington was also popular. We all had bicycles so could attend dances in the surrounding villages. Looking through the first camp magazine to be published 15/9/43 called D.G., it is quite surprising to find just how many social activities were available. Group Capt S.S. Bertram D.F.C. was C.O when the first D.G. was published. Later, Wing Commander L. Lowe M.B.E. D.F.C. was Squadron C.O.
Working closely with Air and Ground crews, one felt very much a part of the every day happenings in the Squadron, every crew lost was a personal loss. Forty five years on, memories fade, but the sight and sound of the Halifaxes taking off on ops, waiting with a coach at a dispersal point in the early hours of the morning listening for the sound of the first arrivals home and the joy when they all returned, that is something that will always remain in my mind. I’m sure Ann, Lesley, Kay, Betty, Sylvia, Helen and many other M.T. girls will know what I mean.
In 1944 I was posted to R.A.F. Sandtoft, before the arrival of the Free French. Those of us who had to leave the Squadron were sad indeed, but for my part I am very proud to have been a small part of the Elvington scene during the war and to have had the privilege of meeting and working with so many wonderfully courageous people. On a visit to Elvington some years ago, the old Farm House was still standing. On a later visit it had been demolished. To me, during those war torn years, somehow, it had been ‘Forever England.’
I joined the W.A.A.F. in June 1942 and was released in Oct. 1945
Mentioned in despatches January 1945
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
Memories of RAF Elvington
Description
An account of the resource
Posted to motor transport section of 77 Squadron at RAF Elvington in November 1942. Writes of duties, location and social activities. Mentions commanders and feeling part of the squadron. Posted to RAF Sandtoft in 1944. Gives dates of service June 1942 to October 1945. Mentioned in dispatches January 1945.
Creator
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JEK Nicholls
Format
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One page typewritten document
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BNicholsJEKNicholsJEKv1
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--Yorkshire
England--Lincolnshire
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942-06
1942-11
1945-01
1944
1945-10
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Tricia Marshall
77 Squadron
entertainment
ground personnel
military living conditions
military service conditions
RAF Elvington
RAF Sandtoft
service vehicle
tractor
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1526/29793/BMilesRJMilesRJv1.1.pdf
9c4ecee51db3f431f91201332344b0c2
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
Miles, Reg
Reginald J Miles
R J Miles
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
2016-07-26
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
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
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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”
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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,
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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
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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
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[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.
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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
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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
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Identifier
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BMilesRJMilesRJv1
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.
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
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1772/31069/MCleggPV[DoB]-150819-04.pdf
f455e2dd94dd4a5af08ae3e4cb11a33d
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1772/31069/MCleggPV[DoB]-150819-04.pdf
f455e2dd94dd4a5af08ae3e4cb11a33d
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
Clegg, Peter Vernon. Aldborough Dairy and Cafe
Description
An account of the resource
Collection contains advert for Mudd's choicest butter, details of Aldborough Cafe, photograph, newspaper cuttings and many pages of visitors signatures. an index of visiting Canadian and American airmen, some notes on signatures and details of the death of those signing the book.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2015-07-02
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
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. Some items have not been published in order to protect the privacy of third parties, to comply with intellectual property regulations, or have been assessed as medium or low priority according to the IBCC Digital Archive collection policy and will therefore be published at a later stage. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collection-policy.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Clegg, PV
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[underlined] DETAILS OF THE DEATH OF THOSE SIGNING THE BOOK [/UNDERLINED]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 3 – Date of entry January 7th 1942]
Athol Herbert JENNINGS F/S RCAF Killed Aug 28th/42 408 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
408 Sqn – Hampden I – P1244 EQ-Y – Op: Kassel
Sgt A H Jennings Killed
Sgt L G Chaston RCAF Killed
Sgt C H Thompson RAAF Killed
Sgt J W Todd Killed
T/o 2005 Balderton. All are buried in Hannover War Cemetery.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 3 – Date of entry January 7th 1942]
Sydney Clarence CAMP Flt Sgt RCAF Killed Jan 15/42 51 Sqn
[visitors book entry. Page No. 3 – Date of entry January 8th 1942]
Eric John RICHARDS Sgt RAF Killed Jan 15/42 51 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
51 Sqn – Whitley V – Z9424 MH-R – Op: Emden
Sgt E J Richards Killed
Sgt H C Needham pow
F/S S C Camp RCAF Killed
Sgt G S Booth pow
Sgt W D Muirhead pow
Sgt R J White Killed
T/o 1758 Dishforth. Shot down by a night-fighter (Uffz Zipperlein, 4./NJG1) and crashed 2215 between Achtkarspelen and Rottevalle (Friesland) the latter being 4 km N of Drachten, Holland. Those who died are buried in Smallingerland (Rottevalle) Protestant Churchyard.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 3 – Date of entry January 8th 1942]
Roderick James CHISHOLM F/S RCAF Killed Jan 6/42 35 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
35 Sqn – Halifax II – R9439 TL-A – Op: Emden
Sgt S E Davies Killed
Sgt H Thomas Killed
P/O T J Taylor RCAF Killed
F/S R L Bradshaw RCAF Killed
F/S R J Chisholm RCAF Killed
Sgt A Squires Killed
T/o 2319 Linton-on-Ouse. Lost without trace. All are commemorated on the Runnymede Memorial. Sgt Davies hailed from Buenos Aires, Argentina.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 3 – Date of entry January 8th 1942]
Frank OLIVER DFM F/S RAF Killed Sep 30/42 51 Sqn
(No details known) [Squadron with Coastal Command, May - Oct 42]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 3 – Date of entry January 9th 1942]
Douglas FORBES Sgt RAF Killed Mar 8/43 61 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
61 Sqn – Lancaster I – W4903 QR-P – Op: Nürnberg
F/L C A Giles DFC RAAF Killed
P/O K D Babington-Browne Killed
F/O F Richards Killed
P/O B J Gunter Killed
F/S G Mitchell Killed
Sgt E Carr Killed
F/S D Forbes Killed
T/o 1930 Syerston. Believed crashed in the general vicinity of Fürth, a large town just to the NW of Nürnberg. All were buried at Fürth on 10 March, but since the war their bodies have been taken to Durnbach War Cemetery.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 3 – Date of entry January 10th 1942]
Jack Vage KERR F/S RAF Killed Oct 16/42 51 Sqn
(No details known) [Sqn with Coastal Command, May - Oct/42]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 3 – Date of entry January 10th 1942]
Frank Lewin LUFF Sgt RAF Killed Aug 12/42 51 Sqn
(No details known) [Sqn with Coastal Command, May - Oct/42]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 3 – Date of entry January 10th 1942]
Norman VINER Sgt. RAF Killed Jan 21st/42 51 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
51 Sqn – Whitley V – Z9311 MH-J– Op: Emden
P/O B Sides Killed
Sgt D A Richards Killed
F/S B L Hart Killed
Sgt N Viner Killed
Sgt J J Clarke Killed
T/o 1734 Dishforth. Lost without trace. All are commemorated on the Runnymede Memorial.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 3 – Date of entry January 13th 1942]
William Moreton JAMES Sgt RAF Killed Jul 12th/42 51 Sqn
(No details known) [Sqn with Coastal Command, May - Oct/ 42]
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 4 – Date of entry January 23rd 1942]
Stanley WOOLHOUSE W/O RAF Killed Oct 3/43 51 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
51 Sqn – Halifax II – HR728 LK-D – Op: Kassel
F/L W T Irwin Killed
F/O J A Grundy Killed
P/O W J Watson Killed
F/O J J Dawkins Killed
F/O R T Watkinson Killed
W/O S Woolhouse Killed
Sgt J Dixon Killed
Sgt J F Gordon Killed
T/o 1810 Snaith. Crashed at Wietersheim on the E bank of the Weser, 4 km SSW of Petershagen. All are buried in Rheinberg War Cemetery. F/O Grundy was an Associate of the Royal Institute of British Architects.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 4 – Date of entry 27th January 1942]
Arthur Hugh Steyning BROWN P/O RAAF Killed Oct 16th/42 51 Sqn
(No details known) [Sqn with Coastal Command, May - Oct/42]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 4 – Date of entry 28th January 1942]
Douglas Ronald FREEAR Sgt RAF Killed Apr 10/42 158 Sqn
(No details known)
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 4 – Date of entry January 28th 1942]
John David William STENHOUSE F/S RAF Killed Mar 1/43 51 Sqn
[visitors book entry. Page No. 4 – Date of entry February 15th 1942]
Ronald Arthur Bertram WILLMOTT P/O RAF Killed Mar 1/43 51 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
51 Sqn – Halifax II – BB223 MH-C – Op: Berlin
F/S J D W Stenhouse Killed
Sgt C Avery Killed
Sgt W Colangelo RCAF Killed
Sgt A Beauchamp Killed
F/S R A B Willmott Killed
Sgt A Howe Killed
F/O J B Duncan Killed
T/o 1830 Snaith. Shot down by a night-fighter (Lt August Geiger, III./NJG1) and crashed 0008 Voorst (Gelderland), 5 km NW of Zutphen, Holland. All are buried in Voorst General Cemetery.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 5 – Date of entry February 20th 1942]
Alan Kenneth FARLAM W/O RAAF Killed Aug 14/43 19 OTU
[crew and operation details]
19 OTU – Anson I – N9671 XF-P – Training
W/O A K Farlam RAAF Killed
F/O H H Kirby DFC Killed
Sgt E S A Gray Killed
Sgt F J Pellatt Killed
Sgt R Brown Killed
Sgt K Ashmore Killed
T/o 1435 Kinloss for a navigation training detail. At approximately 1505, the Anson was seen diving, with both engines running at full power, from 4,000 feet and failing to recover before hitting the ground roughly a mile E of Arbroath airfield, Angus. An examination of the wreckage revealed that most of the fabric had peeled away from the starboard wing. All rest in cemeteries scattered across the United Kingdom and it seems likely that the funeral for W/O Farlam of Neutral Bay in New South Wales was arranged by relatives as he is buried in Surrey at Cheam (St. Dunstan) Churchyard, Sutton and Cheam.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 5 – Date of entry March 18th 1942]
Edward Maurice TAYLOR Sgt RAF Killed Jun 17/42 24 OTU
[crew and operation details]
24 OTU – Whitley V – BD358 – Training
F/S W T Rushton Killed
P/O L Rowlinson Killed
Sgt G E Hibben Killed
Sgt E M Taylor Killed
Sgt A F Alcock RCAF Killed
Sgt Harris inj.
LAC H G Foot Killed
AC2 J Murray Killed
T/o 1525 Honeybourne for a navigation exercise involving the crew, which was made up of a screened pilot and wireless operator, four trainees and two passengers, in overwater flying. At 1955, the bomber returned to base and was seen, while on the cross-wind leg, to lower the flaps. As it did so, so the nose appeared to rise quite sharply. Immediately, the flaps were retracted and the Whitley continued with its approach but as it turned finals, and the flaps were once again lowered, the nose pitched up and the aircraft stalled, plunging to the ground on the boundary of the airfield, where it burst into flames. Those who died rest in various cemeteries across the United Kingdom. This was the first major accident involving an aircraft from the unit since its formation in mid-March 1942.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 6 – Date of entry July 28th 1942
Roderick John HEATHER P/O RCAF Killed Mar 12/43 427 Sqn
(No details known)
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 7 – Date of entry September 18th 1942]
Thomas Donovan COPELAND F/O RCAF Killed Mar 11/45 434 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
434 Sqn – Lancaster X – KB834 WL-Y – Op: Essen
F/L R J Fern RCAF Killed
P/O W T Jones Killed
F/L A G Rowe DFC RCAF Killed
F/O T D Copeland RCAF Killed
F/O J R Latremouille RCAF Killed
F/O G Scott RCAF Killed
F/O J A H B Marceau RCAF pow
T/o 1138 Croft. Hit by flak and crashed within seconds of completing its bombing run, plunging into the target area. Six bodies were later recovered from Plot B at the Süd-West Friedhof and taken to the Reichswald Forest War Cemetery. F/O Marceau RCAF was very badly wounded and was to undergo many years of hospital treatment. Apart from 37 year old P/O Jones, who had served previously with 419 Squadron, the crew were on their second tour of operations.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 8 – Date of entry September 19th 1942]
Eric Raymond PRICE F/O RAF Killed Oct 22/43 77 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
77 Sqn – Halifax II – JD121 KN-O – Op: Kassel
F/O J S Barber Killed
Sgt D W Stribley Killed
Sgt R O Hand Killed
F/O E R Price Killed
Sgt I M Smith Killed
Sgt J Pretsell Killed
Sgt H A Weber RCAF Killed
T/o 1802 Elvington. Crashed at Tietelsen, 9 km SE of Brakel. All rest in Hannover War Cemetery.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 8 – Date of entry October 14th 1942]
Peter LANE Killed Jan 18/43 97 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
97 Sqn – Lancaster I – R5575 OF-L – Op: Berlin
Sgt G H Rowson Killed
Sgt P Lane Killed
Sgt J E West Killed
Sgt J Bell Killed
Sgt J C Brittain Killed
Sgt G A Axup Killed
F/S H C Beebe RCAF Killed
T/o 1703 Woodhall Spa. Crashed in the Waddenzee. Sgt Brittain's body was recovered on 9 April and buried a week later in Ulrum General Cemetery. The rest are named on the Runnymede Memorial. At 40, F/S Beebe RCAF was amongst the oldest RCAF airmen to die on operational service with Bomber Command.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 8 – Date of entry October 23rd 1942]
Arthur Lawrence FAIRBROTHER Sgt RAF Killed Feb 15/44 77 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
77 Sqn – Halifax V – LK726 KN-O – Op: Berlin
F/O G Bodden Killed
Sgt J L Green Killed
F/S N F W Gooding Killed
Sgt W H Beere Killed
Sgt R C Hall Killed
Sgt J Smith Killed
Sgt A L Fairbrother Killed
T/o 1730 Elvington. Crashed at Buskow, 7 km S of Neuruppin. All were buried at Buskow on 17 February, since when their remains have been exhumed and reinterred in the 1939-1945 War Cemetery at Berlin. Sgt Fairbrother's service number indicates he was accepted for pilot training in the pre-war volunteer reserve.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 8 – Date of entry November 27th 1942]
Derek VOLLANS Sgt RAF Killed Apr 15/43 425 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
425 Sqn – Wellington III – X3763 KW-L – Op: Stuttgart
P/O A T Doucette DFC RCAF Killed
Sgt A Jones Killed
P/O J O L Desroches DFC RCAF Killed
Sgt D Vollans Killed
P/O G P H Ledoux RCAF Killed
F/S P P Trudeau RCAF Killed
T/o 2107 Dishforth. Crashed at Mussey-sur-Marne (Haute Marne), on the W bank of the Marne, 8 km S of Joinville, France. All rest in Mussey-sur-Marne Communal Cemetery.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 10 – Date of entry January 17th 1943]
William ("Bill") HENDERSON P/O RCAF Killed Apr 14/45 419 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
419 Sqn – Lancaster X – KB866 VR-M – Op: Kiel
F/S C C Maclaren RCAF Killed
Sgt G A Livingston RCAF Killed
F/O D W Wincott RCAF Killed
F/O C R Loft RCAF Killed
WO1 W Henderson RCAF Killed
F/S E R Wightman RCAF Killed
Sgt G J Jones RCAF Killed
T/o 2022 Middleton St. George similarly tasked. Lost without trace. All are commemorated on the Runnymede Memorial. At 36, F/S Wightman RCAF was amongst the oldest Canadians killed on bomber operations in 1945.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 12 – Date of entry February 21st 1943]
James Henry ("Smudge") EVANS F/S RCAF Killed Aug 10/43 405 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
405 Sqn – Halifax II – HR872 LQ-K – Op: Mannheim
F/L K MacG Gray RCAF Killed
Sgt D A Black RCAF Killed
F/O A J Middleton RCAF Killed
Sgt J H Evans RCAF Killed
Sgt H King Killed
Sgt C W Pickering RCAF Killed
Sgt J Hanna RCAF Killed
T/o 2252 Gransden Lodge. Shot down by a night-fighter (Lt Norbert Pietrek, II./NJG4) crashing 0100 at Awenne (Luxembourg), 9 km NW of St. Hubert, Belgium. All are buried in Florennes Communal Cemetery. F/S Gray RCAF and F/O Middleton RCAF both came from Medicine Hat in Alberta.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 12 – Date of entry February 21st 1943]
William John Ross DAVIES F/S RCAF Killed March 5/43 426 Sqn
[visitors book entry. Page No. 12 – Date of entry February 21st 1943]
Cyril Randolph TRASK P/O RCAF Killed March 5/43 426 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
426 Sqn – Wellington III – BK401 OW-M – Op: Essen
P/O C R Trask RCAF Killed
P/O C E Chapman Killed
Sgt W J R Davies RCAF Killed
SGT N F Paterson RCAF Killed
Sgt G Walen RCAF Killed
Sgt R E Williams RCAF Killed
T/o 1910 Dishforth. Lost without trace. All are commemorated on the Runnymede Memorial.
Note. A reliable private source in Holland indicates this Wellington may have crashed in the IJsselmeer, 10 km E of Amsterdam.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 14 – Date of entry April 17th 1943]
Albert Frederick HOPLEY F/S RCAF Killed May 14/43 426 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
426 Sqn – Wellington X – HE697 OW- – Op: Bochum
Sgt J A Thomson RCAF Killed
Sgt A F Hopley RCAF Killed
Sgt J P O Ethier RCAF Killed
Sgt N Hudspith Killed
Sgt T F How Killed
T/o 2334 Dishforth. Shot down by a night-fighter and crashed 0253 near Nederhorst den Berg (Noord Holland), 16 km SE of Amsterdam. All are buried in Amersfoort (Oud Leusden) General Cemetery.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 13 – Date of entry March 31st 1943]
Sidney Leon MURRELL D.F.C. Flt/Lt. RCAF Killed June 22/43 405 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
405 Sqn – Halifax II – JD124 LQ-P – Op: Krefeld
F/L S L Murrell DFC RCAF Killed
Sgt A W Nichols BEM RCAF Killed
P/O F W Hodge RCAF Killed
P/O J H T J Lemieux RCAF Killed
P/O R A Livingston DFC RCAF Killed
F/S E D Rowe RCAF Killed
Sgt R L Robinson RCAF Killed
T/o 2336 Gransden Lodge. Crashed in the vicinity of Mönchengladbach, where all were laid to rest in the Städtfriedhof on 24 June. Sgt Nichols RCAF now lies in the Reichswald Forest War Cemetery; the rest have been taken to Rheinberg War Cemetery. F/L Murrell RCAF was a Texan from Gainsville.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 16 – Date of entry July 3rd 1943]
John Henry STEVENS Sgt RAF Killed Oct 3/43 44 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
44 Sqn – Lancaster III – ED433 KM-V – Op: Kassel
P/O H G Norton RAAF Killed
Sgt J H Stevens Killed
Sgt S D Stait Killed
Sgt F Thompson pow
Sgt E E Greenfield Killed
Sgt W A Whalley Killed
Sgt R G Martin Killed
T/o 1831 Dunholme Lodge. Crashed in the Söhrewald, 10 km SE of Kassel. Those who died are buried in Hannover War Cemetery.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 15 – Date of entry May 7th 1943]
Donald James ELLIOTT F/O RCAF Killed Jan 1/44 405 Sqn
(No details known)
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 17 – Date of entry July 16th 1944]
Lloyd William Wesley JONES P/O RCAF Killed Jan 22/44 427 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
427 Sqn – Halifax V – LL139 ZL-D – Op: Magdeburg
S/L D M Arnot DFC RCAF Killed
W/C A N Martin RCAF Killed
P/O R A N Rondelet RCAF Killed
P/O L W W Jones RCAF Killed
F/O W V Thom RCAF pow
P/O R Dawson Killed
P/O L S Gray RCAF Killed
P/O R O Nickerson RCAF Killed
T/o 2000 Leeming. Attacked at 19,500 feet by a night-fighter while clearing the target area. The order to abandon was given, but before the crew could react, the Halifax exploded, throwing clear F/O Thom RCAF. The others are buried in Berlin 1939-1945 War Cemetery. W/C Martin RCAF was the CO of 424 Squadron and had been attached for operational experience. P/O Rondelet RCAF was a Belgian, born on 21 November 1915 at Seraing in the SE suburbs of Liege.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 17 – Date of entry July 24th 1944]
David Neville COTTON P/O RCAF Killed June 29/44 427 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
427 Sqn – Halifax III – LV938 ZL-A – Op: Metz
WO2 A J King RCAF pow
Sgt H Morgan pow
F/O W A Wilson RCAF pow
P/O W M Pookay RCAF evd
F/S R E Mowbray pow
F/S S K Vallieres RCAF pow
F/S D N Cotton RCAF Killed
T/o 2145 Leeming similarly tasked. Hit by flak and crashed at Juvincourt-et-Damary (Aisne) some 24 km SE of Laon. F/S Cotton RCAF is buried in Juvincourt-et-Damary Churchyard.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 18 – Date of entry August 26th 1943]
Nick VENBER P/O RCAF Killed May 1/44 420 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
420 Sqn – Halifax III – LW476 PT-J – Op: Somain
F/L E Northern DFC RCAF Killed
Sgt L S Franklin RCAF Killed
F/O F W Morrison RCAF Killed
WO1 N Venber RCAF Killed
F/S C H Lines Killed
Sgt W H Young RCAF Killed
F/O A H B Hall RCAF Killed
T/o 2115 Tholthorpe to bomb rail installations. Presumed crashed in the sea. F/O Morrison RCAF is buried in Cayeux-sur-Mer Communal Cemetery, F/O Hall RCAF rests at St-Valery-sur-Somme Communal Cemetery, while the other members of crew are commemorated on the Runnymede Memorial.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 19 – Date of entry August 27th 1943]
William Edward MARTIN Sgt RCAF Killed Dec 11/43 26 OTU
[crew and operation details]
26 OTU – Wellington III – BK440 – Training
F/S A Merridew Killed
Sgt S Wilson Killed
F/S N Doherty RAAF Killed
Sgt E W Brown Killed
Sgt W E Martin RCAF Killed
Sgt A W Ellis Killed
T/o 0645 Little Horwood for a navigation sortie. Exploded 0800, or thereabouts, and crashed near Park Farm, Hindolveston, 8 miles ESE of Fakenham in Norfolk. Five were taken to Cambridge City Cemetery, while Sgt Brown is buried in Rushden Cemetery. In the years since this tragedy, various items of debris have been recovered from the fields and the more important pieces are now with the Norfolk and Suffolk Aviation Museum at Flixton.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 23 – Date of entry January 4th 1944]
James Archibald WILSON Sgt RCAF Killed Jan 21/44 419 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
419 Sqn – Halifax II – JD466 VR-E – Op: Magdeburg
F/L A G Hermitage RCAF Killed
Sgt J A Wilson RCAF Killed
F/S R H Walton RCAF Killed
F/S W B Tobin RCAF Killed
WO2 J B Chess RCAF Killed
Sgt R Shields Killed
Sgt R W Edwards RCAF Killed
T/o 1941 Middleton St. George. Crashed at Borne, where all were buried on 26 January. Since the cessation of hostilities, their bodies have been brought to the 1939-1945 War Cemetery at Berlin.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 23 – Date of entry January 4th 1944]
James Coulter COPELAND P/O RCAF Killed Dec 6/44 429
[visitors book entry. Page No. 23 – Date of entry January 4th 1944]
William Edward Heaton BARTY P/O RAF Killed Dec 6/44 429 Sqn
[visitors book entry. Page No. 23 – Date of entry January 4th 1944]
Stephen Lawrence NOREJKO P/O RCAF Killed Dec 6/44 429 Sqn
429 – Halifax III – MZ900 AL-K – Op: Boulogne
F/O J M Prentice RCAF
F/S F P Platt
F/O T A Wilson RCAF
F/S S L Norejko RCAF
Lt F M McRoberts USAAF
F/S W E H Barty
F/S J C Copeland RCAF inj
T/o 0714 Leeming similarly tasked. Hit by flak which damaged both starboard engines. Unable to maintain height, F/O Prentice RCAF put the bomber into the sea off the French coast. F/O M Lanin RCAF in Halifax III MZ303 AL-R witnessed the ditching and he remained overhead until an ASR Walrus, escorted by two Spitfires, arrived on the scene at 1019. All were picked up, F/S Copeland RCAF being slightly injured. Overladen, the Walrus was eventually met by an HSL which took the crew in Newhaven. P.T.O. [See next entry]
[page break]
[crew and operation details]
429 Sqn – Halifax III – MZ463 AL-J – Op: Osnabruck
F/O J M Prentice RCAF Killed
F/L H D O/Neil RCAF Killed
P/O E S C Clark RCAF Killed
F/O T A Wilson RCAF Killed
P/O L Norejko RCAF Killed
Lt F M McRoberts USAAF Killed
P/O W E H Barty Killed
WO2 J C Copeland RCAF Killed
T/o 1619 Leeming. Lost without trace. The six RCAF members of crew, along with P/O Barty, are commemorated on the Runnymede Memorial while Lt McRoberts USAAF is named on his country's memorial to its airmen with no known graves. It will be recalled that six of the crew had been involved in a dramatic ditching incident while operating against Boulogne in September. Apart from F/L O'Neil RCAF, who was flying his first sortie, all were about two-thirds of the way through their tour.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 23 – Date of entry January 7th 1944]
Frederick Peter CAMMAART P/O RCAF Killed Apr 23/44 424 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
424 Sqn – Halifax III – LV780 QB-M – Op: Dusseldorf
WO2 W F Vornbrock RCAF Killed
Sgt L Walters Killed
F/S J S Laird RCAF Killed
WO2 F P Cammaart RCAF Killed
Sgt L Hanson Killed
Sgt J J Renning RCAF Killed
Sgt F P Morrisey RCAF pow
T/o 2230 Skipton-on-Swale. Crashed near Goirle in Noord-Brabant, 4 km S of Tilburg, Holland. Those who died were buried in Goirle Roman Catholic Cemetery, but since 1945 the four RCAF members of crew have been taken to Bergen op Zoom Canadian War Cemetery. Sgt Walters had been born Lionel Cohen and he came from Golders Green in Middlesex.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 24 – Date of entry February 1st 1944]
William Henry PARKINSON F/O RCAF Killed May 9/44 432 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
432 Sqn – Halifax III – LW594 QO-G – Op: Haine-St-Pierre
P.O S A Hawkins RCAF Killed
Sgt H Ibbotson Killed
F/O A I Raetzen RCAF pow
Sgt M B O'Leary RCAF pow
F/O W H Parkinson RCAF Killed
Sgt G Hand evd
Sgt R B Haxton RCAF evd
T/o 0130 East Moor similarly tasked. Shot down by a night-fighter (Oblt Heinz-Wolfgang Schnaufer Stab IV./NJG4) and crashed 0332 at Grand Reng (Hainaut) a small Belgian town on the border with France some 16 km SE of Mons. Those who died lie in Gosselies Communal Cemetery, where all 102 graves are for airmen who died in Bomber Command service between July 1942 and May 1944.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 24 – Date of entry February 3rd 1944]
John Tengate TUNSTALL Sgt RAF Killed Jan 7/45 550 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
550 Sqn – Lancaster I – NG363 BQ-P – Op: Munchen
F/O C J Clarke RCAF Killed
Sgt J T Tunstall Killed
F/S H E Miell RCAF Killed
F/O A L Coldwell RCAF pow
Sgt L O Precieux Killed
F/S F W Bradley RCAF Killed
F/S L A J Gauthier RCAF Killed
T/o 1815 North Killingholme. Those who died rest in Dürnbach War Cemetery. Nineteen year old Sgt Precieux was the son of Jules Henri and Marie Alicia Fanellie Precieux of Phoenix on the island of Mauritius.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 25 – Date of entry February 4th 1944]
Stanley Allen HAWKINS F/O RCAF Killed May 9/44 432 Sqn
(See Page 24 et seq. for details with rest of crew)
[visitors book entry. Page No. 25 – Date of entry February 8th 1944]
Douglas Anderson HENDERSON P/O RCAF Killed Feb 21/45 427 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
427 Sqn – Halifax III – NR288 ZL-F – Op: Worms
P/O W R Wilson RCAF pow
Sgt J F W Taylor Killed
F/O L Webster RCAF Killed
WO2 R R Stuart RCAF Killed
F/S D A Henderson RCAF Killed
F/S L O Foisy RCAF Killed
F/S A J McLeod RCAF Killed
T/o 1623 Leeming. Those who lost their lives are buried in Rheinberg War Cemetery.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 26 – Date of entry February 18th 1944]
Robert Fitzgerald CONROY F/O RCAF Killed Mar 24/44 429 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
429 Sqn – Wellington X – HE593 AL- – Op: Düsseldorf
F/S R F Conroy RCAF evd
Sgt G A Leitch RCAF Killed
P/O G R Densmore RCAF Killed
F/S G A Nelson RCAF Killed
Sgt J Burns RCAF Killed
T/o 2300 East Moor. Outbound, and while climbing towards 19,000 feet, shot down by a night-fighter. Three are buried in Eindhoven (Woensel) General Cemetery; Sgt Burns RCAF lies in the Canadian War Cemetery at Groesbeek.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 27 – Date of entry February 28th 1944]
James Coulter COPELAND P/O RCAF Killed Dec 6/44 429 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
429 Sqn – Halifax III – MZ900 AL-K – Op: Boulogne
F/O J M Prentice RCAF
F/S F P Platt
F/O T A Wilson RCAF
F/S S L Norejko RCAF
Lt F M McRoberts USAAF
F/S W E H Barty
F/S J C Copeland RCAF inj
T/o 0714 Leeming similarly tasked. Hit by flak which damaged both starboard engines. Unable to maintain height, F/O Prentice RCAF put the bomber into the sea off the French coast. F/O M Lanin RCAF in Halifax III MZ303 AL-R witnessed the ditching and he remained overhead until an ASR Walrus, escorted by two Spitfires, arrived on the scene at 1019. All were picked up, F/S Copeland RCAF being slightly injured. Overladen, the Walrus was eventually met by an HSL which took the crew into Newhaven.
(Above F/S also signed the Visitors Book on an earlier page (23) on Jan 4th 1944)
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 27 – Date of entry February 29th 1944]
Robert Roy CAMPBELL F/O RCAF Killed May 13/44 419 Sqn
[visitors book entry. Page No. 27 – Date of entry February 29th 1944]
Burdel Frank EDWARDS F/O RCAF Killed May 13/44 419 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
419 Sqn – Lancaster X – KB713 VR – Op: Leuven
P/O B F Edwards RCAF Killed
Sgt J R Carruthers Killed
F/O R R Campbell RCAF Killed
P/O P Dewar RCAF Killed
P/O R S Smith RCAF Killed
P/O J A Webber RCAF Killed
P/O H E Oddan RCAF Killed
T/o 2200 Middleton St. George to bomb rail yards. Outbound, crashed and exploded at Reninge (West-Vlaanderen), 10 km SSW from Diksmuider. On 16 May, P/O Smith RCAF was buried in Coxyde Cemetery, the others lie at Adegem Canadian War Cemetery.
Note: P/O Charles SURLES is listed as having been killed the same day as F/O PRITCHARD. He must have been in the same aircraft shown here as he was in Pritchard's crew. He was an American citizen from Louisiana.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 33 – Date of entry July 12th 1944]
Gordon Featherstone PRITCHARD F/O RCAF Killed Aug 17/44 420 Sqn
[visitors book entry. Page No. 33 – Date of entry July 12th 1944]
Charles Pittman SURLES P/O RCAF Killed Aug 17/44 420 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
420 Sqn – Halifax III – MZ687 PT-L – Op: Kiel
F/O G F Pritchard RCAF Killed
P/O R H Davis RCAF Killed
Sgt E A J Proud pow
F/O F W Moffit RCAF Killed
F/O D I Block RCAF Killed
WO2 D B H Lorenz RCAF Killed
F/S K G Boucock RCAF Killed
F/O A G Roski RCAF Killed
T/o 2101 Tholthorpe. Crashed in the North Sea from where Sgt Proud was rescued two days later. Of his seven comrades, F/O Moffit RCAF and WO2 Lorenz RCAF are buried in Kiel War Cemetery while the rest have no known graves.
Note: P/O Charles SURLES is listed as having been killed the same day as F/O PRITCHARD. He must have been in the same aircraft shown here, as he was in Pritchard's crew. He was an American citizen from Louisiana.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 34 – Date of entry August 11th 1944]
J P ("Benny") BENOIT WO2 RCAF Baled out Aug 3/44 433 Sqn. Survived.
[crew and operation details]
433 Sqn – Halifax III – HX275 BM-S – Op: Bois de Cassan
F/O R H Simpson RCAF
Sgt W Purdie
F/O R Woodhouse RCAF
F/O C M Dandy RCAF inj
WO2 J P Benoit RCAF
Sgt R E Budd RCAF
Sgt O M Brown RCAF
T/o 1031 Skipton-on-Swale similarly tasked. Hit by flak while turning from the target area, F/O Dandy RCAF being slightly wounded. The flying controls were badly damaged and at 1440 the crew baled out, no further injuries being reported.
Note: "Benny" BENOIT from Toronto, calls himself "The Parachute Kid" – for good reason! Where he landed is not known.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 37 – Date of entry September 19th 1944]
Thomas Abercromby WILSON F/O RCAF Killed Dec 6/44 429 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
429 Sqn – Halifax III MZ463 AL-J – Op: Osnabruck
F/O J M Prentice RCAF Killed
F/L H D O'Neil RCAF Killed
P/O E S C Clark RCAF Killed
F/O T A Wilson RCAF Killed
P/O S L Norejko RCAF Killed
Lt F M McRoberts USAAF Killed
P/O W E H Barty Killed
WO2 J C Copeland RCAF Killed
T/o 1619 Leeming. Lost without trace. The six RCAF members of crew, along with P/O Barty, are commemorated on the Runnymede Memorial while Lt McRoberts USAAF is named on his country's memorial to its airmen with no known graves. It will be recalled that six of the crew had been involved in a dramatic ditching incident while operating against Boulogne in September. Apart from F/L O/Neil RCAF, who was flying his first sortie, all were about two-thirds of the way through their tour.
Note: F/O Wilson was in the same aircraft that included the three other crew members that appear on Page 23 previously (and Page 27)
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 38 – Date of entry October 25th 1944]
William ("Bill") Gordon McLEOD F/O RCAF Killed Apr 10/45 433 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
433 Sqn – Lancaster I – PB903 BM-F – Op: Leipzig
F/O R J Grisdale RCAF Killed
Sgt W A J Thurston Killed
F/O I B Zierler RCAF Killed
F/O W G McLeod RCAF Killed
F/S J M Hirak RCAF Killed
F/S F G Seeley RCAF Killed
F/S D W Roberts RCAF Killed
T/o 1317 Skipton-on-Swale similarly tasked. Hit by predicted flak just short of the AP. A fire was seen to break out in the starboard inner engine, though the flames were soon quelled. Height was lost, followed by a small explosion which turned the Lancaster onto its back. Diving steeply, the bomber hit the ground and exploded. All are buried in Berlin 1939-1945 War Cemetery.
[visitors book entry. Page No. 38 – Date of entry October 25th 1944]
Ernest ("Bill") William WATSON F/L RCAF Killed Jan 16/45 420 Sqn
[visitors book entry. Page No. 38 – Date of entry October 25th 1944]
Quan Jil LOUIE F/O RCAF Killed Jan 16th 45 420 Sqn
420 Sqn – Halifax III – NA192 PT-Q – Op: Magdeburg
F/L E W Watson RCAF Killed
Sgt A K Parker Killed
P/O C W Way DFC Killed
F/O Q J Louie FCAF Killed
P/O W J D Partridge RCAF Killed
F/S D J Jacobi RCAF pow
F/S T Lynch RCAF pow
T/o 1846 Tholthorpe. Those who died are buried in Berlin 1939-1945 War Cemetery. F/O Louie RCAF, for whom no details of his next-of-kin are known, had the unusual Christian names of Quan Jil. P/O Partridge RCAF was the son of the Revd A M Partridge of Napanee, Ontario.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 38 – Date of entry October 31st 1944]
Sydney Dolton HEWSON F/O RCAF Killed Dec 28/44 428 Sqn
[visitors book entry. Page No. 38 – Date of entry October 31st 1944]
Robert Allan EBBER F/O RCAF Killed Dec 28/44 428 Sqn
[visitors book entry. Page No. 38 – Date of entry October 31st 1944]
Arthur Allen DIXON F/O RCAF Killed Dec 28/44 428 Sqn
[visitors book entry. Page No. 38 – Date of entry November 2nd 1944]
Albert Thomas LE BLANC F/O RCAF Killed Dec 28/44 428 Sqn
[visitors book entry. Page No. 38 – Date of entry November 2nd 1944]
Keith Oscar McDIVITT F/O RCAF Killed Dec 28/44 428 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
428 Sqn – Lancaster X – KB798 NA-G – Op: Opladen
F/O E W Page RCAF Killed
Sgt G F Owen Killed
F/O S D Hewson RCAF Killed
F/O A A Dixon RCAF Killed
F/O R A Ebber RCAF Killed
F/O K O McDivitt RCAF Killed
F/O A T le Blanc RCAF Killed
T/o 0300 Middleton St. George. All are buried in Rheinberg War Cemetery.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 40 – Date of entry December 17th 1944]
John STREET P/O RCAF Killed Mar 2/45 408 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
408 Sqn – Halifax VII – RG472 EQ-T – Op: Koln
F/O H R Sproule RCAF pow
Sgt A D Dennis RCAF pow
F/O J E Moran RCAF pow
F/O V D J Mousseau RCAF pow
F/S J G Paxton RCAF Killed
F/S J Street RCAF Killed
F/S V T Hunt RCAF pow
T/o 0721 Linton-on-Ouse. Homebound, when hit by flak which killed F/S Paxton RCAF and F/S Street RCAF. The other members of crew baled out just moments before their aircraft exploded and fell near Bad Godesberg on the W bank of the Rhine, SE of Bonn. The two airmen who died were first buried at Bad Godesberg, since when their remains have been taken to Belgium and interred in Hotton War Cemetery.
[page break]
[visitors book entry. Page No. 42 – Date of entry January 23rd 1945]
Harold Keith STINSON, D.F.C. Sqd/Ldr. R.C.A.F. Killed Feb 1/45 433 Sqn
[crew and operation details]
433 Sqn – Lancaster I – NG460 BM-A – Op: Ludwigshafen
S/L H K Stinson DFC RCAF Killed
P/O E H Thompson Killed
F/O D J McMillan RCAF Killed
F/O A W Belles RCAF
P/O J T McShane RCAF Killed
P/O R Pierson RCAF Killed
P/O R J Thompson RCAF
T/o 1523 Skipton-on-Swale. Bombed the AP at 1928 from 17,000 feet and was hit by flak. On return the Lancaster entered turbulent weather while in cloud and control was lost, two of the crew managing to bale out from 2,000 feet before their aircraft crashed near Low House, roughly 1,000 yards NW from the town of Driffield, Yorkshire. The four RCAF officers are buried in Harrogate (Stonefall) Cemetery; P/O Thompson rests in Hampstead Cemetery, Cricklewood.
Note. These were the first casualties sustained by 433 Squadron in 1945 and it was also their first Lancaster write off. Three more would be lost before the end of the war, from which not one man survived.
[Source of information: Bill Chorley's 'Bomber Command Losses' Volume 3]
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
Details of death of those signing the book
Description
An account of the resource
Listing by page of visitors' book of personnel who had signed and were subsequently killed with details.
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Canadian Air Force
Royal Air Force. Coastal Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Nottinghamshire
Germany
Germany--Kassel
England--Yorkshire
Germany--Emden (Lower Saxony)
Germany--Nuremberg
Scotland--Moray
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Essen
England--Worcestershire
England--Durham (County)
England--Lincolnshire
Germany--Stuttgart
Germany--Kiel
Atlantic Ocean--Baltic Sea
Germany--Mannheim
England--Cambridgeshire
Germany--Bochum
Germany--Krefeld
Germany--Magdeburg
France
France--Metz
England--Buckinghamshire
France--Boulogne-sur-Mer
Germany--Osnabrück
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Munich
Belgium
Belgium--Haine-Saint-Pierre
Germany--Worms
Belgium--Louvain
France--L'Isle-Adam
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Leverkusen
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Ludwigshafen am Rhein
Netherlands--Zutphen
Netherlands
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
France--Mussey-sur-Marne
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942-08-28
1942-01-15
1942-06-06
1942-09-30
1942-03-08
1943-05-08
1943-05-09
1942-10-16
1942-08-12
1942-07-12
1943-03-08
1942-10-16
1942-08-12
1942-01-21
1943-10-03
1943-10-03
1942-10-16
1942-04-10
1943-03-01
1943-03-02
1943-08-14
1942-06-17
1943-03-12
1945-03-11
1943-10-22
1943-01-18
1944-02-15
1944-02-16
1943-04-14
1943-04-15
1945-04-13
1945-04-14
1943-08-09
1943-08-10
1943-03-05
1943-03-06
1943-05-13
1943-05-14
1943-06-21
1943-06-22
1943-10-03
1943-10-04
1944-01-01
1944-01-21
1944-01-22
1944-06-28
1944-06-29
1944-04-30
1944-05-01
1943-12-11
1944-01-21
1944-01-22
1944-12-06
1944-09-17
1944-12-06
1944-12-07
1944-04-22
1944-04-23
1944-05-08
1944-05-09
1945-01-07
1945-01-08
1944-05-09
1945-02-21
1945-02-22
1944-03-24
1944-03-25
1944-12-06
1944-05-12
1944-05-13
1944-08-16
1944-08-17
1944-08-03
1944-12-07
1945-04-10
1945-01-16
1945-01-17
1944-12-26
1944-10-31
1944-11-02
1944-12-27
1944-12-28
1945-03-02
1945-02-01
1945-02-02
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Twenty-eight page printed document with handwritten annotation
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Personal research
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MCleggPV[DoB]-150819-04
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
David Bloomfield
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
PV Clegg
158 Squadron
19 OTU
26 OTU
35 Squadron
405 Squadron
408 Squadron
419 Squadron
420 Squadron
424 Squadron
425 Squadron
426 Squadron
427 Squadron
428 Squadron
429 Squadron
432 Squadron
433 Squadron
434 Squadron
44 Squadron
51 Squadron
550 Squadron
61 Squadron
77 Squadron
97 Squadron
Anson
bombing of Kassel (22/23 October 1943)
Halifax
Hampden
killed in action
Lancaster
Operational Training Unit
RAF Balderton
RAF Croft
RAF Dishforth
RAF Dunholme Lodge
RAF East Moor
RAF Elvington
RAF Gransden Lodge
RAF Honeybourne
RAF Kinloss
RAF Leeming
RAF Linton on Ouse
RAF Little Horwood
RAF Lossiemouth
RAF Middleton St George
RAF North Killingholme
RAF Skipton on Swale
RAF Snaith
RAF Syerston
RAF Tholthorpe
RAF Woodhall Spa
training
Whitley
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1794/35639/EMcCarrollWilsonWJ-M440225-0001.2.jpg
e1ddc9e3558c86a73021205c94e1ccae
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1794/35639/EMcCarrollWilsonWJ-M440225-0002.2.jpg
d63ed7629aa12b95787106ce544230f5
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
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
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-01-13
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. Some items have not been published in order to protect the privacy of third parties, to comply with intellectual property regulations, or have been assessed as medium or low priority according to the IBCC Digital Archive collection policy and will therefore be published at a later stage. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collection-policy.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Wilson, RC
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[Royal Air Force crest]
1061389. AC. McCARROLL.
HUT 12, SITE 7,
R.A.F. STATION,
ELVINGTON,
YORKS.
25-2-44.
Dear Mr. & Mrs. Wilson,
Just a few lines from one of Reg’s old crew. I was their mid-upper gunner until getting into some trouble for refusing to fly with another crew. Reg perhaps has told you of my case.
However, since then I’ve got the sad news of them reported missing & I do wish to sympathise with you all at home & his girl-friend Pat. I was very fond of my crew & happy when flying with them – that is why I had no faith in going with others. I thought the world off [sic] the boys & appreciated very much my highly skilled Navigator, because he pulled the old kite through many sticky patches back to base.
I have never yet met a crew with so much harmony as ours had, until
[page break]
[underlined] 2 [/underlined]
the powers that be started to break us up & use us as “spare parts.” I sincerely hope you get good news of Reg. and I think you will because he has the best seat for leaving the kite in an emergency. If you do hear any news would you please let me know at the above address. I can give you two addressed of the crew. Johnny Bushell the rear gunners is:- 1 Brookfield Rd, Goldington, Bedford. & Laurie Underwood the Bomb Aimers is 2 South Durham St, Stockton-on-Tees.
Regards to you all at home & may God Bless you all.
Yours very Sincerely,
[underlined] “Mac” [/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
Letter to Reg Wilson's Parents from Mac
Description
An account of the resource
The letter is from one of Reg's old crew, Mac. He expresses sadness that he is missing and states he was an excellent flying companion.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Mac Mc Carroll
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1944-02-25
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Bedford
England--Bedfordshire
England--Durham (County)
England--Stockton-on-Tees
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. Correspondence
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Two handwritten sheets
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
EMcCarrollWilsonWJ-M440225-0001, EMcCarrollWilsonWJ-M440225-0002
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.
1944-02-25
air gunner
aircrew
bomb aimer
missing in action
navigator
RAF Elvington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2376/35685/LHorsburghR1318178v1.1.pdf
eda212c3a93cae1102e474792b64438f
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
Horsburgh, Roy
Description
An account of the resource
One item. The collection concerns Roy Horsburgh (b. 1922, 127997 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book. He flew operations as an observer with 77 and 35 Squadrons.
The collection was loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by John Horsburgh and catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-04-13
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
Horsburgh, R
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
Roy Horsburgh’s Royal Canadian Air Force Observer’s Flying Log Book
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
Description
An account of the resource
R Horsburgh’s Observer’s Flying Log Book detailing operations and training flown as Observer covering the period 25 October 1942 to 23 August 1943. He was stationed at RCAF Virden (19 EFTS), RCAF Brandon (12 SFTS), RAF Abingdon (10 OTU), RAF Marston Moor (1652 HCU) RAF St Eval, RAF Elvington (77 Squadron) and RAF Graveley (35 Squadron). Aircraft flown in were Tiger Moth, Crane, Anson, Whitley and Halifax. He flew eight anti-submarine sweeps with 10 0TU, four night operations with 77 Squadron and 10 night operations with 35 Squadron (total 14) Targets were Bochum, Dusseldorf, Le Creusot, Gelsenkirchen, Hamburg, Essen, Remscheid, Mannhein, Turin, and Berlin. Logbook annotated “missing” on this operation.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
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
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eng
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Text
Text. Log book and record book
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One booklet
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Terry Hancock
Identifier
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LHorsburghR1318178v1
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Germany
Great Britain
Italy
England--Cornwall (County)
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Oxfordshire
England--Yorkshire
France--Le Creusot
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Bochum
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Gelsenkirchen
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Remscheid
Italy--Turin
Temporal Coverage
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1940-05-13
1943-06-11
1943-06-12
1943-06-19
1943-07-09
1943-07-24
1943-07-25
1943-07-27
1943-07-29
1943-07-30
1943-08-09
1943-08-12
1943-08-16
1943-08-23
10 OTU
1652 HCU
35 Squadron
77 Squadron
aircrew
Anson
bombing
Halifax
Heavy Conversion Unit
missing in action
navigator
observer
Operational Training Unit
RAF Abingdon
RAF Elvington
RAF Graveley
RAF Marston Moor
Tiger Moth
training
Whitley
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1794/35730/MWilsonRC1389401-170113-100002.1.pdf
2eae94bb927f83b9bbfa6215308853ca
Dublin Core
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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.
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.
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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
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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
19
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.
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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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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/1794/35819/BWilsonRCWilsonRCv1.2.pdf
46537616119db7e3fe539c2255ec6eb9
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.
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IBCC Digital Archive
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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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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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3
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.
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[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
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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
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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
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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.
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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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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
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
United States Army Air Force
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Format
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22 printed sheets
Identifier
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BWilsonRCWilsonRCv1
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
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
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
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/2214/39902/EAdamsSGDunnR990614-0001.2.jpg
ed3b77f00c17e5fb23e9b42bd2d5e2b1
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2214/39902/EAdamsSGDunnR990614-0002.2.jpg
d5a1f405da39d7bd1896ac38c500876c
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
Dunn, Frederick Thomas
Dunn, FT
Description
An account of the resource
45 items. The collection concerns Sergeant Frederick Thomas Dunn (1319229 Royal Air Force) and contains his logbook, memoir, correspondence, clippings and photographs. He flew operations as a bomb aimer with 102 Squadron and was killed in a mid-air collision on return from Berlin 22 November 1943. <br /><br />The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Josephine Guinness and catalogued by Nigel Huckins. <br /><br />Additional information on Frederick Thomas Dunn is available via the <a href="https://losses.internationalbcc.co.uk/loss/207983/">IBCC Losses Database.</a>
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-02-14
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
Dunn, FT
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Letter from S G (Stan) Adams to Rebecca Dunn concerning the collision of two Halifax at RAF Pocklington
Description
An account of the resource
Gives account of author's operation and then watching the collision of two Halifax while preparing to land. Makes some comments on danger of operations. Gives details of both aircraft involved, one from Pocklington with relative of Rebecca on board and the other from Elvington. Lists name of crews as recorded in a book and comments on errors by author of the book. Gives further detailed account of operation to Berlin and the collision quoting from another book. Suggest other sources of information about graves and other details.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
S G Adams
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1999-06-14
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943-11-22
1943-11-23
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Correspondence
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Two-page typewritten letter
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription
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
EAdamsSGDunnR990614
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Germany--Berlin
Great Britain
England--Yorkshire
Germany
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
102 Squadron
77 Squadron
aircrew
Halifax
killed in action
mid-air collision
RAF Elvington
RAF Pocklington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1963/41315/BLazenbyHJLazenbyHJv1.2.pdf
35022f62bb4527b9a7da34bd424ec42f
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
Lazenby, Harold Jack
H J Lazenby
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-10-10
Rights
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
Lazenby, HJ
Description
An account of the resource
11 items. The collection concerns Warrant Officer Harold Jack Lazenby DFC (b. 1917, 652033 Royal Air Force) and contains his memoir, documents and photographs. He flew operations as a flight engineer with 57, 97 and 7 Squadrons.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Daniel, H Jack Lazenby 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
H Jack Lazenby DFC
Description
An account of the resource
Harold Jack Lazenby's autobiography.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Warrington
England--Wolverhampton
England--Shifnal (Shropshire)
England--London
England--Bampton (Oxfordshire)
England--Witney
England--Oxford
England--Cambridge
France--Paris
England--Portsmouth
England--Oxfordshire
England--Southrop (Oxfordshire)
England--Cirencester
England--Skegness
England--Worcestershire
England--Birmingham
England--Kidderminster
England--Gosport
England--Fareham
England--Southsea
Wales--Margam
Wales--Port Talbot
Wales--Bridgend
Wales--Porthcawl
England--Urmston
England--Stockport
Wales--Cardiff
Wales--Barry
United States
New York (State)--Long Island
Illinois--Chicago
England--Gloucester
Scotland--Kilmarnock
England--Surrey
England--Liverpool
England--Lincolnshire
England--Lincoln
Denmark--Anholt
Poland--Gdańsk
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Essen
Germany--Kiel
Europe--Mont Blanc
Denmark
England--Hull
Czech Republic--Plzeň
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Mablethorpe
Germany--Cologne
Italy--Turin
France--Bordeaux (Nouvelle-Aquitaine)
England--Land's End Peninsula
Italy--San Polo d'Enza
Italy--Genoa
Italy--Milan
Algeria
Algeria--Blida
Algeria--Atlas de Blida Mountains
England--Cambridge
England--Surrey
England--Ramsey (Cambridgeshire)
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Munich
France--Montluçon
Germany--Darmstadt
Scotland--Elgin
England--York
Scotland--Aberdeen
England--Grimsby
Germany--Saarbrücken
Germany--Zeitz
Germany--Ludwigshafen am Rhein
Germany--Wanne-Eickel
Germany--Gelsenkirchen
Germany--Kleve (North Rhine-Westphalia)
Germany--Chemnitz
Germany--Heide (Schleswig-Holstein)
Germany--Wuppertal
Germany--Homberg (Kassel)
Netherlands--Westerschelde
Germany--Rheine
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Helgoland
Germany--Bremen
Netherlands--Rotterdam
Belgium
England--Southend-on-Sea
England--Morecambe
England--Kineton
England--Worcester
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Mülheim an der Ruhr
England--London
Italy--La Spezia
France--Dunkerque
Poland--Szczecin
Poland
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Recklinghausen (Münster)
Netherlands
England--Sheringham
England--Redbridge
France--Saint-Nazaire
Atlantic Ocean--Kattegat (Baltic Sea)
Germany
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Canadian Air Force
United States Army Air Force
Royal Air Force. Transport 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
99 printed sheets
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BLazenbyHJLazenbyHJv1
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Lazenby, Harold Jack
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
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription
1654 HCU
20 OTU
207 Squadron
4 Group
5 Group
57 Squadron
617 Squadron
7 Squadron
97 Squadron
air gunner
Air Gunnery School
aircrew
anti-aircraft fire
B-17
B-24
Bennett, Donald Clifford Tyndall (1910-1986)
bomb aimer
bombing
bombing of Helgoland (18 April 1945)
briefing
Catalina
Chamberlain, Neville (1869-1940)
crewing up
debriefing
demobilisation
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
Distinguished Service Order
Eder Möhne and Sorpe operation (16–17 May 1943)
entertainment
flight engineer
flight mechanic
Flying Training School
George VI, King of Great Britain (1895-1952)
Gibson, Guy Penrose (1918-1944)
ground crew
ground personnel
H2S
Halifax
Hampden
hangar
Harris, Arthur Travers (1892-1984)
Harvard
Heavy Conversion Unit
Hudson
Hurricane
Ju 88
killed in action
Lancaster
love and romance
Manchester
Master Bomber
Me 110
Me 262
mechanics engine
mess
military living conditions
military service conditions
mine laying
Mosquito
navigator
Navy, Army and Air Force Institute
Nissen hut
Oboe
Operation Exodus (1945)
Operation Manna (29 Apr – 8 May 1945)
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
Pathfinders
pilot
radar
RAF Barkstone Heath
RAF Bassingbourn
RAF Benson
RAF Bourn
RAF Brize Norton
RAF Colerne
RAF Cosford
RAF Cranwell
RAF Dunkeswell
RAF East Kirkby
RAF Elvington
RAF Fairford
RAF Halton
RAF Lossiemouth
RAF Melton Mowbray
RAF Mepal
RAF Oakington
RAF Padgate
RAF Pershore
RAF Scampton
RAF Silverstone
RAF St Athan
RAF Stormy Down
RAF Swinderby
RAF Talbenny
RAF Tangmere
RAF Upper Heyford
RAF Upwood
RAF Uxbridge
RAF Valley
RAF Warboys
RAF Wigsley
RAF Wing
recruitment
Resistance
Spitfire
sport
Stirling
target indicator
training
V-1
V-2
V-weapon
Victoria Cross
Wellington
Whitley
Window
wireless operator
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2519/43774/LBraithwaiteW1293577v1.2.pdf
c570dde17e831e54b65a69c848a0f1db
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
Braithwaite, Walter
W Braithwaite
Description
An account of the resource
21 items. The collection concerns Walter Braithwaite (1293577 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, note book and photographs. He flew operations as a bomb aimer with 77 and 171 Squadrons. <br /><br />There is also a photograph <a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2562">album</a> with 49 items. <br /><br />The collection was loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by M Braithwaite and catalogued by Benjamin Turner.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2019-10-22
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
Braithwaite, W
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
Walter Braithwaite’s Observer’s and Air Gunner’s flying log book
Description
An account of the resource
Walter Braithwaite’s Observer’s and Air Gunner’s flying log book which includes a majority of his training, both stationed in Britain and Canada. Flights are recorded from the 2nd July 1942 to 13th July 1945. Walter began operations on 17th September 1943 after training. Braithwaite flew mainly as an air bomber. Braithwaite had numerous postings during training, but operationally, he served at RAF Elvington and RAF Full Sutton with 77 Squadron and at RAF North Creake with 171 Squadron. Aircraft included the Anson, Bolingbroke, Battle and Halifax. Braithwaite was involved in 43 operations (35 at night and 8 in the day). Operations took place over northern France, Normandy, Caen, Palaiseau, Saint-Lô ,Somme, Montreuil, Le Mans ,Amiens, Lille, Laon, Nieppe Forest. In Germany: Cologne, Essen, Bochum, Duisburg, Düren, Düsseldorf, Frankfurt am Main, Hannover, Jülich, Kassel,Krefeld, Neuruppin, Oberhausen,Ruhr, Schleswig-Holstein, Stuttgart, Wanne-Eickel. In Belgium: Brussels and Ottignies. His pilots on operations were Squadron Leader Procter, Flying Officer Hunter and Sergeant Mills. Furthermore, Walter Braithwaite did a number of ‘Gardening’ operations and later in 1945 took part in Special Duties and was “shot up by an intruder.” Braithwaite baled out and landed at USAAF Knettishall.
The last pages of the logbook contain four b/w photographs of Walter Braithwaite, airmen standing in front of an aircraft and a man playing basketball.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943-09-17
1943-09-18
1943-09-21
1943-10-02
1943-10-03
1943-10-04
1943-10-08
1943-10-09
1943-10-18
1943-10-22
1943-11-26
1943-12-20
1944-01-21
1944-01-27
1944-02-08
1944-02-11
1944-02-15
1944-02-19
1944-02-20
1944-02-21
1944-02-22
1944-02-24
1944-02-28
1944-03-01
1944-03-02
1944-03-06
1944-03-07
1944-03-08
1944-03-15
1944-03-15
1944-03-16
1944-03-23
1944-03-29
1944-03-30
1944-03-31
1944-04-09
1944-04-10
1944-04-20
1944-04-21
1944-05-12
1944-05-13
1944-05-24
1944-05-25
1944-06-05
1944-06-06
1944-06-11
1944-06-12
1944-06-16
1944-06-17
1944-06-18
1944-06-19
1944-06-24
1944-06-25
1944-06-27
1944-06-28
1944-07-01
1944-07-11
1944-07-12
1944-07-13
1944-07-17
1944-07-19
1944-07-23
1944-07-24
1944-07-25
1944-07-26
1944-07-28
1944-08-08
1944-08-09
1944-09-09
1944-09-12
1944-09-20
1944-09-21
1945-02-27
1945-02-28
1945-03-03
1945-04-08
1945-04-14
1945-04-15
1945-04-19
1945-04-20
1945-04-23
1945-04-24
1945-05-16
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Norfolk
England--Yorkshire
France
France--Normandy
France--Somme
France--Amiens
France--Caen
France--Palaiseau
France--Saint-Lô
France--Montreuil
France--Le Mans
France--Lille
France--Laon
France--Nieppe Forest
Belgium
Belgium--Brussels
Belgium--Ottignies
Germany
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Schleswig-Holstein
Germany--Neuruppin
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Germany--Bochum
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Düren (Cologne)
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Essen
Germany--Jülich
Germany--Kassel
Germany--Krefeld
Germany--Oberhausen (Düsseldorf)
Germany--Stuttgart
Germany--Wanne-Eickel
Canada
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Canadian Air Force
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Log book and record book
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One booklet
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Benjamin Turner
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
LBraithwaiteW1293577v1
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.
10 OTU
1652 HCU
171 Squadron
21 OTU
24 OTU
77 Squadron
aircrew
Anson
bale out
Battle
Bolingbroke
bomb aimer
bombing
Bombing and Gunnery School
bombing of the Normandy coastal batteries (5/6 June 1944)
Cook’s tour
Halifax
Halifax Mk 2
Halifax Mk 3
Halifax Mk 5
Heavy Conversion Unit
mine laying
navigator
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
RAF Elvington
RAF Full Sutton
RAF Honeybourne
RAF Marston Moor
RAF Moreton in the Marsh
RAF North Creake
RAF St Eval
tactical support for Normandy troops
training
Whitley
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2601/45188/SHomewoodWR1577093v1.1.pdf
1aa64a69dde4f9184207fd0fc4c1ed3c
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
Homewood, William Robert
Homewood, W R
Description
An account of the resource
17 items. The collection concerns William Robert Homewood (1577093 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, documents, photographs and a piece of shrapnel. He flew operations as a bomb aimer with 51 Squadron.
The collection was loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Jeffrey Homewood and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2019-07-24
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
Homewood, WR
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
51 Squadron, 4 Group, RAF Bomber Command
Description
An account of the resource
A detailed account of William's service in 51 Squadron including copies of the squadron's operational record books.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
William Homewood
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Yorkshire
South Africa
Germany
Germany--Oberhausen (Düsseldorf)
Germany--Kleve (North Rhine-Westphalia)
Germany--Bochum
Germany--Wilhelmshaven
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Gelsenkirchen
Germany--Jülich
Germany--Münster in Westfalen
Germany--Essen
Germany--Hagen (Arnsberg)
Germany--Osnabrück
Germany--Oppau
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Hanau
Germany--Saarbrücken
Germany--Magdeburg
Germany--Stuttgart
Germany--Mainz (Rhineland-Palatinate)
Germany--Wanne-Eickel
Germany--Worms
Germany--Kamen
Germany--Heide (Schleswig-Holstein)
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Wuppertal
Netherlands
Netherlands--Nijmegen
Germany--Helgoland
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Dülmen
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
United States Army Air Force
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
94 page book
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
SHomewoodWR1577093v1
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
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944
1945
4 Group
5 Group
51 Squadron
578 Squadron
6 Group
8 Group
air gunner
aircrew
anti-aircraft fire
bomb aimer
bombing
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Flying Medal
flight engineer
Gee
gremlin
ground crew
ground personnel
Halifax
Halifax Mk 3
Lancaster
Master Bomber
mess
mid-air collision
mine laying
Mosquito
navigator
Oboe
Oxford
Pathfinders
pilot
RAF Burn
RAF Carnaby
RAF Elvington
RAF Kirmington
RAF Leconfield
RAF Lissett
RAF Marston Moor
RAF Odiham
RAF Snaith
RAF Tangmere
Red Cross
Spitfire
Stirling
target indicator
Typhoon
Wellington
Whitley
wireless operator
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1979/45240/LEdmondsonF[Ser -DoB]v1.pdf
7a146889b699c1463fdc89e5e893e97b
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
Edmondson, Eddie
Fred Edmondson
F Edmondson
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-11-03
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Edmondson, F
Description
An account of the resource
8 items. The collection concerns Sergeant Fred 'Eddie' Edmondson (Royal Air Force) and contains his log book and photographs. He flew operations as a flight engineer and bomb aimer with 35 Squadron.
The collection was loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Ron and Catherine Eccles and catalogued by Lynn Corrigan.
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 'Eddie' Edmondson's navigator's, air bomber's and air gunner's flying log book
Description
An account of the resource
Navigator's, air bomber's and air gunner's flying log book for Fred 'Eddie' Edmondson, flight engineer and bomb aimer, covering the period 20 March 1944 to 18 April 1945, detailing his training and operations flown. He was stationed at 1663 Heavy Conversion Unit RAF Rufforth, 77 Squadron RAF Elvington, 78 Squadron RAF Breighton, 1652 Heavy Conversion Unit RAF Upwood, 35 Squadron and RAF Graveley. Aircraft flown in were Halifax and Lancaster, He flew a total of 57 operations including 26 night and 31 day operations with 35 Squadron. Targets were, Kiel, Stuttgart, Caen, Bois de Cassan, Trossy St. Maximin, Acquet, Forêt de Nieppe, Falaise, Le Culot, Stettin, Emden, Le Havre, Wanne Eickel, Calais, Cap Griz Nez, Dortmund, Duisburg, Wilhelmshaven, Essen, Walcheren, Westkapelle, Oberhausen, Gelsenkirchen, Freiburg, Urft dam, Leuna oil plant, Ulm, Cologne, St. Vith, Rheydt, Bonn, Mannheim, Mainz, Dresden, Chemnitz, benzol plant at Borttrod-Stinnes, oil plant at Heide-Hemmingstedt, Gladbeck, Munster, Nordhausen, Hamburg, Bayreuth, Potsdam and Helgoland. His pilot on 56 operations was Flight Lieutenant L B Lawson and for one was Wing Commander L E Good. In 29 operations Eddie was flight engineer and in 28 was bomb aimer and flight engineer.<br /><br /><span data-contrast="auto" xml:lang="EN-GB" lang="EN-GB" class="TextRun SCXW66706776 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW66706776 BCX0">This item was sent to the IBCC Digital Archive already in digital form. No </span><span class="ContextualSpellingAndGrammarError SCXW66706776 BCX0">better quality</span><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW66706776 BCX0"> copies are available.</span></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-07-23
1944-07-24
1944-07-25
1944-07-26
1944-07-30
1944-07-31
1944-08-03
1944-08-04
1944-08-05
1944-08-06
1944-08-14
1944-08-15
1944-08-16
1944-08-17
1944-09-06
1944-09-10
1944-09-11
1944-09-12
1944-08-15
1944-08-16
1944-09-20
1944-09-25
1944-09-26
1944-10-06
1944-10-07
1944-10-14
1944-10-15
1944-10-16
1944-10-22
1944-10-23
1944-10-28
1944-10-29
1944-11-01
1944-11-02
1944-11-06
1944-11-27
1944-11-28
1944-11-29
1944-12-04
1944-12-06
1944-12-07
1944-12-17
1944-12-18
1944-12-23
1944-12-26
1944-12-27
1944-12-28
1944-12-29
1944-12-30
1945-01-02
1945-01-03
1945-01-22
1945-02-23
1945-01-28
1945-01-29
1945-02-01
1945-02-02
1945-02-03
1945-02-04
1945-02-13
1945-02-14
1945-02-15
1945-02-20
1945-02-21
1945-02-27
1945-03-01
1945-03-15
1945-03-20
1945-03-21
1945-03-24
1945-03-25
1945-04-03
1945-04-08
1945-04-09
1945-04-11
1945-04-14
1945-04-15
1945-04-08
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Atlantic Ocean--North Sea
Belgium
France
Germany
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Great Britain
Netherlands
Belgium--Beauvechain
Belgium--Saint-Vith
France--Abbeville Region
France--Auxi-le-Château
France--Caen
France--Calais
France--Creil
France--Falaise
France--L'Isle-Adam
France--Le Havre
Germany--Bayreuth
Germany--Bonn
Germany--Bottrop
Germany--Chemnitz
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Emden (Lower Saxony)
Germany--Essen
Germany--Freiburg im Breisgau
Germany--Gelsenkirchen
Germany--Gladbeck
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Heide (Schleswig-Holstein)
Germany--Helgoland
Germany--Kiel
Germany--Leuna
Germany--Mainz (Rhineland-Palatinate)
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Münster in Westfalen
Germany--Nordhausen (Thuringia)
Germany--Oberhausen (Düsseldorf)
Germany--Potsdam
Germany--Rheydt
Germany--Stuttgart
Germany--Ulm
Germany--Urft Dam
Germany--Wanne-Eickel
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Yorkshire
Netherlands--Walcheren
Netherlands--Westkapelle
Poland--Szczecin
France--Nieppe Forest
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Log book and record book
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One booklet
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
LEdmondonF[Ser#-DoB]v1
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
Lynn Corrigan
1652 HCU
1663 HCU
35 Squadron
77 Squadron
78 Squadron
aircrew
bomb aimer
bombing of Dresden (13 - 15 February 1945)
bombing of Helgoland (18 April 1945)
bombing of Luftwaffe night-fighter airfields (15 August 1944)
Bombing of Trossy St Maximin (3 August 1944)
flight engineer
Halifax
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Pathfinders
RAF Breighton
RAF Elvington
RAF Graveley
RAF Marston Moor
RAF Rufforth
RAF Upwood
tactical support for Normandy troops
training