3
25
369
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/997/10469/SMaddockLyonR2205669v10015.2.jpg
2c77b5f212abe72d5aa04b4525f421ef
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Maddock-Lyon, Roy. Scrap book
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Maddock-Lyon, R
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-03-21
Description
An account of the resource
20 pages. The scrap book contains items about Roy Maddock-Lyon's aircraft being shot down over Holbæk in Denmark 14 February 1945 and his subsequent evasion. It contains correspondence, photographs of the wreckage of his aircraft ZA-X, and what happened to his crew.<br />
<p>This collection also contains items concerning John Grayshan and Albert Berry. Additional information on <a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/211033/">John Grayshan</a> and <a href="https://internationalbcc.co.uk/losses/202051/">Albert Berry</a> is available via the IBCC Losses Database.</p>
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[underlined] EVADING CAPTURE IN DENMARK [/underlined]
The information contained in this report is to be treated as
[deleted word]
STATEMENT BY
2205669 Sgt. MADDOCK-LYON. Roy. 10 Sqn. Bomber Command, R.A.F.
Left : STOCKHOLM, 27 Feb 45. Arrived: U.K. , 28 Feb 45.
Date of Birth : 31 Aug 24. Peacetime Profession: Student.
R.A.F. Service : Since 3 Sep 43. Private Address: 18 Vicroria Road, RUNCORN, Cheshire.
Post in crew : Flight engineer.
[underlined] Other members of the Crew [/underlined]:
P/O. GRAYSHAN (pilot) (believed killed).
F/Sgt. BERRY (navigator) (believed K/W).
P/O. CHADERTON (bomb aimer) (fate unknown).
F/Sgt. ANDREWS (wireless operator) (fate unknown).
F/Sgt. MILLS (mid upper gunner) (safe in SWEDEN).
F/Sgt. PETRE (rear gunner) (safe in DENMARK).
14 Feb 45, Baled out near HOLBAEK.
We took off from MELBOURNE in a Halifax aircraft at 1745 hrs on 14 Feb 45. On the way to the target the aircraft was hit, possibly by cannon fire from a fighter, and set on fire. The pilot gave the order to abandon aircraft and while I was trying to open the forward escape hatch I heard a tearing, grinding noise. I began to fall through space and I pulled the ripcord of my parachute.
I landed in a field about 3 k. South of HOLBAEK (DENMARK 1:100,000, [underlined] Sheet 40 [/underlined]. Y 8177) at 2015 hrs. I lost my flying boots on the way down. I hid my parachute, harness and [indecipherable words] in the field where I landed. I then walked to a house, where I was given help. The remainder of my journey was arranged for me.
[underlinerd] INTERVIEWED BY: [underlined] I.S.9 (W) 1 hour 45.
Q.R.S. Bomber Command. R.A.F.
[underlined] Distribution of this report by [missing letter].S.9: [/underlined]
D.D.H.I.(P/W). N.I.9. I.S.9. I.S.9(E).
[missing letter].S.9(E). I.S.9([indecipherable letter].3.). I.S.9(D).
[missing letter].S.9(A.B.A.)(2 copies). E.I.19.
[missing letter]. I.5 (Lt.-Col. Seymor. M.O.1(S.P.)
Lt.-Col. Dittors). A.I.1([indecipherable letter]) F/V.
[missing letter]I.O. M.I.9. P.T. [indecipherable word] Dot.MIS.ETOUSA (2 copies).
[missing letters]-Col. H.B.A. de BRUIMS (3 copies).
[missing letter]I.O., H.Q. Bomber Command, R.A.F. (7copies).
Fighter Command, R.A.F.
Tactical Air Force, R.A.F.
38 Group R.A.F.
[indecipherable word] Section, Air Ministry (Mr. J.C. Noracy).
[missing number]2 Div. S.H.A.E.F.
[missing letter]I.O. Air Staff, S.H.A.E.F. Recr.
[underlined] APPENDIX C. [/underlined]
[underlined] Distribution: [/underlined]
D.D.H.I.(P.W). I.S.9.
I.S.9(X). M.I.5 (Lt.-Col. Seymor). I.D.9(D).
I.S.9([indecipherable letters] (2 copies).
I.S.9(A.B.). P.W. [indecipherable letters]
Dot.MIS.ETOUSA. (2 copies).
I.S.9([indecipherable letter]) (file).
[underlined] APPENDIX D. [/underlined]
[underlined] Distribution: [/underlined]
I.S.9. I.S.9([indecipherable letter]).
A.L.O., M.I.9.
I.S.9(indecipherable letters]) (2 copies).
P.F. [indecipherable letters] Dot.MIS.ETOUSA (2 copies). File.
Roy’s interrogation report from Stockholm.
[page break]
[Air Ministry letterhead]
Your Ref. P.425527/6/N.5.N. 23rd. February 1945.
[underlined] CONFIDENTIAL [/underlined]
Sir,
I am directed to convey to you the good news that your son, Sergeant Roy Maddock-Lyon previously reported missing, is now safe.
A report has been received from a reliable source through the Air Attache Stockholm which states that your son will be arriving in Sweden shortly.
In the interests of your son you are asked to keep this good news to yourself and not attempt to communicate with him in any way. This information should not be released to the press.
I am to assure you that any further news received will be passed to you immediately.
I am, Sir,
Your obedient servant,
[signature]
For Director of Personal Services.
D. Maddock-Lyon, Esq.,
15, Victoria Road,
Runcorn,
Cheshire.
[crest]
RAF Letter notifying Roy was in Sweden.
[Post Office Telegram letterhead]
[inserted] hop [/inserted]
No. IR1413 [date stamp]
[inserted] 9/31 TRA [/inserted]
597 8.16 LONDON TO 21
MRS S MADDOCKLYON 18 VICTORIA RD RUNCORN CHE[missing letters]
ARRIVED IN THIS COUNTRY SAFELY AND WELL HOPE TO SEE YOU SHORTLY WRITING ROY +
+18
Roy’s Telegram concerning his return to the UK.
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
Evaded Capture in Denmark and letter and telegram to Roy Maddock-Lyon's parents advising him he was safe
Description
An account of the resource
Item 1 is a statement by Roy Maddock-Lyon on the events leading to the loss of the aircraft and his evasion and return to the UK.
Item 2 is a letter from the Air Ministry advising his parents that he is safe in Sweden. It is captioned 'RAF Letter notifying Roy was in Sweden'.
Item 3 is a telegram to his mother advising that he has returned safely to the UK. It is captioned' Roy's Telegram concerning his return to the UK.'
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Roy Maddock-Lyon
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1945-02-27
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Two typewritten sheets and a printed telegram on an album page
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
SMaddockLyonR2205669v10015
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.
Denmark
Sweden
Denmark--Holbæk
Sweden--Stockholm
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1945-02-14
1945-02-28
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Steve Baldwin
10 Squadron
bale out
evading
Halifax
RAF Melbourne
shot down
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1473/43022/SCookeJRA1336866v10007.1.jpg
3fc0fdf090861acbd208e9081f238b93
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
Cooke, Bob
James Robert Alfred Cooke
J R A Cooke
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
2015-12-01
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
Cooke, JRA
Description
An account of the resource
11 items. The collection concerns Flight Sergeant John Robert Alfred "Bob" Cooke (1336866 Royal Air Force) and contains research about his crew. He flew operations as a pilot with 51 Squadron and was killed 30 June 1944. <br /><br />The collection was loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by James Seymour and catalogued by Barry Hunter. <br /><br />Additional information on John Robert Alfred Cooke is available via the <a href="https://losses.internationalbcc.co.uk/loss/205728/">IBCC Losses Database.</a>
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
Events at Villers Bocage
Description
An account of the resource
Details of the events leading to the loss of Bob Cooke and crew, 30 June 1944.
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-06-30
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
France
France--Normandy
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. Service material
Text. Personal research
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One printed sheet
Identifier
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SCookeJRA1336866v10007
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
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending text-based transcription
51 Squadron
aircrew
anti-aircraft fire
bale out
bomb aimer
bomb struck
bombing
Halifax
killed in action
Lancaster
Master Bomber
mid-air collision
missing in action
Mosquito
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
pilot
RAF Snaith
RAF Tangmere
tactical support for Normandy troops
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/501/22571/MCurnockRM1815605-171114-018.2.pdf
016c5b36e006bb2bf9b025c8d8d14b3a
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Curnock, Richard
Richard Murdock Curnock
R M Curnock
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Curnock, RM
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-04-18
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Description
An account of the resource
92 items. An oral history interview with Warrant Officer Richard Curnock (1924, 1915605 Royal Air Force), his log book, letters, photographs and prisoner of war magazines. He flew operations with 425 Squadron before being shot down and becoming a prisoner of war.
The collection has been licenced to the IBCC Digital Archive by Richard Curnock and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Ex-RCAF The Camp Jan 1990
Description
An account of the resource
News-sheet of the ex-Air Force POW Association. This edition covers POW's in Perpetuity, the Red Cross, a new memorial at Plymouth Hoe, Geoof Taylor -author, advance notice of a reunion in Vancouver, lost members, ex-POW histories, Obituaries, a message from the President, Gen from around the circuit and photographs from the 1989 Ottawa reunion.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
The RAF ex-POW Association
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1990-01
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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MCurnockRM1815605-171114-018
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 Canadian Air Force
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Plymouth
France--Dieppe
Canada
British Columbia--Vancouver
Ontario--Ottawa
Germany--Koblenz
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Luckenwalde
Ontario--Toronto
Alberta--Edmonton
Belgium
France--Fresnes (Val-de-Marne)
France--Saint-Nazaire
Alberta--Hinton
Germany--Berlin
England--Cambridge
England--Oxford
England--Southampton
Germany--Cologne
France--Le Havre
Germany--Hamburg
Germany--Lübeck
Manitoba--Brandon
Switzerland--Geneva
United States--Mason-Dixon Line
England--Skipton
France--Falaise
Manitoba--Winnipeg
Germany--Essen
Virginia--Norfolk
Italy--Sicily
Italy--Calabria
Italy--Naples
Italy--Florence
Austria--Spittal an der Drau
Poland--Toruń
Poland--Gdańsk
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Europe--Elbe River
Germany--Osnabrück
Germany--Bad Fallingbostel
France--Bordeaux (Nouvelle-Aquitaine)
Germany--Mühlberg (Bad Liebenwerda)
Italy
Poland
France
Virginia
Ontario
Alberta
Germany
Austria
Switzerland
United States
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Devon
England--Hampshire
England--Yorkshire
England--Oxfordshire
Manitoba
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 Squadron
214 Squadron
4 Group
40 Squadron
405 Squadron
408 Squadron
415 Squadron
419 Squadron
420 Squadron
424 Squadron
425 Squadron
426 Squadron
427 Squadron
428 Squadron
429 Squadron
431 Squadron
432 Squadron
433 Squadron
434 Squadron
6 Group
air gunner
aircrew
B-17
bale out
Beaufighter
Bennett, Donald Clifford Tyndall (1910-1986)
bomb aimer
Caterpillar Club
Conspicuous Gallantry Medal
crash
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Service Order
Dulag Luft
escaping
Goering, Hermann (1893-1946)
Halifax
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
Hurricane
Lancaster
Me 110
memorial
Military Cross
navigator
Operational Training Unit
P-51
Pathfinders
prisoner of war
RAF Alconbury
RAF Biggin Hill
RAF Digby
RAF Hendon
RAF St Eval
Red Cross
Spitfire
Stalag 3A
Stalag Luft 3
Stalag Luft 4
Stirling
strafing
training
Typhoon
Victoria Cross
Wellington
Whitley
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1801/32064/MStewartEC87436-170727-02.1.pdf
ba150c34c0e26764b6fb67ddd8726a08
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Stewart, Edward Colston
E C Stewart
Description
An account of the resource
272 items. The collection concerns Edward Colston Stewart DFC (b. 1916, 87436 Royal Air Force) and his wife, <span>Flight Officer </span>Ann Marie Stewart (nee Imming, b. 1922, 5215 Royal Air Force). It contains his log books, documents, bank notes and photographs. He flew 50 operations as a pilot with 1446 Ferry Flight and 104 Squadron. After the war they served in the Far East. <br /><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2013">Ann Marie Stewart collection</a><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2012">Bank notes</a><br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Paula Cooper and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-02-24
2022-06-21
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Stewart, EC
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[front cover]
[page break]
1/9.
F/LT L.C. PIPKIN
BOMBER COMMAND
[underlined] LONDON [/underlined]
[table]
[crest]
[page break]
NOT P/WAR LECTURE – NO NEED TO GO TO A CAMP.
A TALK ON MY EXPERIENCES WHICH MIGHT HELP YOU.
[inserted] IF YOU KEEP FIT [/inserted]
FEEL SURE YOU CAN ALL EVADE THESE COWARDLY STUPID PEOPLE.
LECTURES.
IMPRESSED UPON ME:- GETTING FAR AWAY FROM CHUTE OR AIRCRAFT ON FIRST NIGHT.
BEST IS SAFE HIDING PLACE FROM SEARCH LASTS 0600 – MIDDAY OVER VAST AREA.
[underlined] STARTING FROM BEGINNING. [/underlined]
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] FIRST NIGHT [/underlined]
FIGHTER ATTACK
LOSING BOOT AND SEARCH LIGHT
SEARCH POCKETS AND £5
ALL CLEAR
MEETING SENTRY – RETRACE STEPS –
CROSSING FIELD – FARMER SHOUTING.
RHUR WIRE DEFENCES – CUTS – TREATMENT.
CLOTHS [sic] WET DUE TO DEW
CYCLISTS ON ROAD 0530 GREETINGS
[underlined] FIRST DAY [/underlined]
MAKING FOR WOOD AND SEEING TROOPERS
TO COPPICE
SENTRIES AT 0600
COMMANDER SHOUTING ORDERS
TROOPS OVER HEAD
THE SEARCH
15 HOURS UNCOMFORTABLE WAIT
DURING DAY SINGING GERMANS
UNABLE TO RECCO [sic] DUE TO SENTRIES
KNEW VILLAGE NEAR BY CHILDREN.
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] SECOND NIGHT [/underlined]
FIRST ATTEMPT TO MOVE (TROOPERS)
GET AWAY
BUILT UP ROAD AND DITCHES
FIGHT WITH TROOPERS
GET AWAY
DRY MOUTH AND EXHAUSTION (ENDURANCE TABLETS)
CAMP UP OTHER SIDE OF ROAD AND CAMP
[underlined] THIRST [/underlined]
HORLICKS – CABBAGE – DEW
LIGHTS AND FARMERS GUARDING FIELDS
UNIFORMED CYCYLISTS [sic] ON ROAD AT 0400
[underlined] SECOND DAY [/underlined]
BLISTERS ON FEET VERY PAINFUL
SLEPT IN DITCH UNDER TREE BY RAILWAY AND WOOD
THIRST AND MILKING COW ATTEMPT
RECCO SAW SENTRIES ON RAILWAY LINE
INSECT PEST
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] THIRD NIGHT [/underlined]
WALKING DIFFICULT USED HANDKERCHIEF.
CABBAGE FIELDS AND THIRST
GETTING TIRED USED ENDURANCE TABLETS
MAIN ROAD RELIEF TO FEET AND SEEING TWO UNIFORM MEN ACCROSS [sic] FIELDS TO HAYSTACKS
ATTEMPT TO GET WATER DOG
WATER IN CABBAGE FIELD
RUBBER BAG AND CHLORINE TABLETS
[underlined] DAY [/underlined]
SLEPT IN UNDERGROWTH
GERMAN TROOPS SINGING
PEOPLE WORKING IN FIELDS
NOTHING EXCITING.
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] 4th NIGHT [/underlined]
UNDER THE WEATHER
DIFFICULT TO WALK
PASSED TROOPER AND GIRL IN LANE
RESTED AT BASE OF HAYSTACK (ENDURANCE TABLETS)
MUST GET TO BELGE OR WATER AND FOOD
MEASURED DISTANCE ON MAP IC FOR POSITION
[underlined] 4th MORNING [/underlined]
IN HOLE BY BUSHES IN SAND OUTSIDE FARM.
OLD FARMER STARTLED
WONDERFUL FAMILY
(POOR) FOOD THEY OFFERED BUT THEIR BEST (BREAD UGH!!)
BANDAGE AND WASHED FEET
PROPAGANDA [deleted word] LEAFLETS
WIRELESS UPSTAIRS
COUNTING CATTLE – EGGS ETC.
ADMIRED MY FLYING CLOTHS [sic]
[underlined] FIFTH NIGHT [/underlined]
[underlined] ENGLISH SPEAKING MAN AND SUGGESTION OF ROUTE TO FOLLOW [/underlined]
SLEEP IN BED
[page break]
[blank page]
5th MORNING
LOUNGE COAT OVER UNIFORM UNDER SHIRT
CROSSING MAAS AND CYCLES TO HOLLAND
MEETING DUTCH FAMILY
MORE PROPAGANDA PAPERS
DIEPPE RAID
GERMAN SOLDIERS STAND AT DOOR
[underlined] 6th NIGHT [/underlined]
WALK TO ANOTHER FARM NEAR BELGE FRONTIER
INTERVIEW WITH [deleted word] GOVERNOR AND TALKS OF VENLOW – COMMANDOES – OSNABROOK – ROTTERDAM – DUSSELDOLF
I LOVE HITLER TALE
[underlined] 6th DAY [/underlined]
SLEEP WITH GERMANS EATING
BELOW
MEETING FRENCH PRISONERS
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] 7th NIGHT [/underlined]
WALK TO COLLECT BYCYCLES [sic]
MEETING SENTRY ON ROAD
CROSSING FRONTIER ON BYCYCLES
[underlined] IN BELGIUM [/underlined]
CYCLING WITH GERMAN TROOPS ON BYCYLES
LEAVING CYCLES AND WALKING TO AN ORGANISATION
TORCH SHONE ON US BY TROOPERS
[underlined] SEVENTH MORNING [/underlined]
TRAVEL WITH WORKERS TO LIEGE
[underlined] LATER [/underlined]
TRAIN TO BRUSSELLS
WORKING IN ORCHARD AND GARDENS
SEEING THE TOWN
JOURNEY TO LILLE AND PARIS
CUSTOMS BARRIER
TROOPS PUSHED IN TRAIN AT LILLE
FOOD AND BEER AT LILLE
(OVER)
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] PARIS [/underlined]
PROPAGANDA POSTERS
METRO – PICTURES – SHOW – VISITING FRIENDS
CHURCHILL – ENGLAND DAGULLE [sic]
COLONIES AND PROPAGANDA BY GERMANS
WIRELESS MUSICAL BOX
[underlined] CROSSING TO SPAIN [/underlined]
GUARDS RIVER ON FRONTIER
SHEEP WITH BELLS
KEEP FIT FOR THE JOURNEY
LIGHTS AS GUIDE TO TOWNS
CIVIC[deleted letter] GUARDS – GRAY UNIFORM – GESTAPO
DANGER OF RAIL TRAVEL
COSTOME [sic] OF PEOPLE – COAT SHOULDER – ADIOUS
BANANAS AGAIN
[page break]
[blank page]
[underlined] SUMING [sic] UP [/underlined]
RAILWAYS: CAREFUL OF SENTRIES
ROADS:- CURFEW AND GUARDS
FIELDS:- FIELD GUARDS - GERMAN BAD
[underlined] OCCUPIED GOOD [/underlined] – MAYBE!!
POLICE IN TOWNS:- OLD GOOD – YOUNG DOUBTFUL
INSTANCE IN PARIS
ON TRAINS:- CONTROLLER GUARDS USUALLY GOOD IF NOBODY NEAR
HELP IN TOWNS:- PROSTITUTES – ELDERLY WOMEN – JEWS
IDENTY [sic] CARDS: DIFFERENT IN BELGE AND FRANCE
[inserted] GUNNER:- [/Inserted]
CONVERSATION WITH BELGE PILOT:- STOMAR B.B.B F.F.F
HEIL HITLER NOT USED
HORLICKS – CHLORINE – ENDURANCE TABLETS
MAPS AND COMPASS NEED FOR ALL CREW TO USE COMPASS
NEED FOR: MEDICAL EQUIPMENT IN PARACHUTE FOR SORE FEET – SCRATCHES – INSECTS.
[underlined] SOAP [/underlined]
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Flight Lieutenant LC Pipkin's Diary
Description
An account of the resource
A diary kept by LC Pipkin and subtitled Bomber Command, London. It records his time after baling out of aircraft after a fighter attack. He managed to evade capture and reached Spain.
Creator
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LC Pipkin
Format
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One handwritten diary
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Diary
Identifier
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MStewartEC87436-170727-02
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Netherlands
France--Dieppe
Belgium
Netherlands--Venlo
Germany--Osnabrück
Netherlands--Rotterdam
Belgium--Liège
France--Lille
France--Paris
Spain
Germany--Düsseldorf
France
Germany
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Sue Smith
bale out
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
evading
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
propaganda
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/774/30939/BWoolfASWoolfASv1.2.pdf
f62f9d2147ca2ccc8cd92af5c543242e
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
Woolf, Arthur Sidney
A S Woolf
Description
An account of the resource
23 items. An oral history interview with Flying Officer Arthur Woolf (1922 - 2021, 1579552, 157533 Royal Air Force) his log book, a memoir, correspondence, documents, a newspaper cutting and photographs. He flew operations as a wireless operator with 630 Squadron and became a member of the Guinea Pig Club.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Arthur Woolf and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-06-29
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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Woolf, AS
Transcribed document
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Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[Air Crew Association Badge]
ROYAL AIRFORCE [sic] CAREER & EXPERIENCES IN WORLD WAR TWO.
F/O ARTHUR S. WOOLF.
No. 630 Squadron, No. 5 Group.
BOMBER COMMAND.
[page break]
[photograph]
R.A.F. CAREER AND EXPERIENCES IN WW2.
F/O ARTHUR S. WOOLF.
630 SQUADRON. No.5 GROUP.
[page break]
[Bomber Command Crest]
[5 Group Headquarters Crest] [630 Squadron Crest]
[page break]
R.A.F. CAREER AND EXPERIENCES IN WW2.
F/O ARTHUR S. WOOLF.
As a youngster I was always thrilled by the thought of flying, so volunteered for aircrew and eventually in 1941 reported to Padgate R.A.F. Recruitment Centre at the age of 19. I was very much a home-loving boy from a close-knit family of just four, my older brother being already in the R.A.F. was serving in the Middle East.
I was first posted to Blackpool for 'square bashing', morse code training etc. Then on to Yatesbury in Wiltshire, No.2 Radio School, after which, due apparently to a 'log jam' of trainees (or a cock-up of some sort!) we were all individually posted out to various U.K. R.A.F. stations for "Radio experience". In my case this was to Martlesham Heath, an old pre-war airfield a few miles north of Ipswich on the east coast, where I became one of the station's Signal Section, though I still wore my white flash in my forage cap and was still untrained aircrew. It was here that I 'cadged' my very first and very unofficial flight, it was on one of my off duty days. Of all things it was in an old Walrus aircraft of the Air-Sea Rescue Squadron based there. I was crammed into the tiny space available and we chugged down the East coast just a few feet above the sea. I was thrilled to pieces!.
My second flight, this time semi-official, was in a Hampden on a practice bombing trip to Orford Ness bombing range just off the east coast, when I was supposed to try to fix a u/s radio. My, I was really progressing. From a Walrus to a Hampden! I must have been mad to go anyway near either of them, but where ignorance is bliss.......
After seven or eight months at Martlesham I was posted to the Aircrew Reception Centre at St. Johns Wood, London, much to my disgust. This seemed very much like a backward step in my R.A.F. career, just doing more 'square bashing' in the local streets, but it only lasted a couple of weeks or so, when I was then moved to I.T.W. at Bridgenorth. At the end of this course, at the Passing-Out Parade, it was announced that I had achieved the highest pass marks in all the various subjects ever attained since this course had commenced and I was presented with two hundred cigarettes to mark the occasion. Being a non-smoker at that time my colleagues benefited [sic]!
My next posting was to Yatesbury again, but this time on a more advanced signals course which included flying, officially this time, on air signals training, first in De Haviland Dominies, and later in Proctors. I continued obtaining high marks in virtually all subjects and just prior to the final tests and in the middle of lectures one morning I was told to
R.A.F. Career and Experiences in WW2. Page 1
[page break]
report to the Adjutant. Without being told why, I was questioned by him at length about my family background, my education and further studies, my interests etc., and then dismissed back to normal training with the rest of the squad. At the end of this course and before being posted to A.F.U. at Dumfries in Scotland, we were given our three stripes, although it was stressed that we were still under training and we were not to think that we could go throwing our weight around as "real sergeants"!
The A.F.U. course at Dumfries, where we flew in Ansons, lasted some two months or so and followed by O.T.U. at Upper Heyford, flying in Wellingtons, the faithful old "Wimpeys". It was here that we crewed up and it was done in the following manner. Each category of aircrew was told that they had so many days in which to find a crew, otherwise they would be "appointed" and teamed up with the "leftovers". We all felt that this would be a bit of a scourge and was to be avoided at all costs. In my own case, that evening I got talking to a Navigator type who said that he had just teamed up with the 'Yank' Pilot, Bill Adams who had crossed over from the U.S.A. into Canada to join the R.C.A.F. before the U.S. entered the war. Needless to say I agree to be their Wireless Operator and in no time at all we had a full crew, comprising a 'Yank' Pilot, and a 'Yank' Mid-Upper Gunner who had also crossed into Canada to join the R.C.A.F., a 'Canadian' Bomb Aimer (commissioned), a 'Canadian' Rear-Gunner, and three 'Brits'., one of whom was a 'Welshman' in fact.
Before we had even begun our 'Wimpey' circuits-and-bumps I was, for the second time in my R.A.F. training career, told to report to the Adjutant, where I was told, to my great astonishment, that I had been awarded my Commission. I was given a travel warrant, countless clothing coupons and a 48 hour pass to get home to Birmingham to buy all my Officer requirements, – a very extensive list was provided. For the next few weeks I almost felt like a Blackpool 'sprog' again, walking around in my brand new Pilot Officer uniform, especially in the Officer's Mess, but before too long I became Flying Officer, my uniform got to look more 'seasoned' and I became more used to the required "Officer and Gentleman" code.
After finishing our Upper Heyford O.T.U. course, during which as a crew we became quite 'bonded', possibly due as much to our off-duty time together (i.e. drinking sessions and such) as to our actual flying and training together, we were posted to Scampton.
Here, among much else, I attended courts martial, strictly under instruction I hasten to add!
Page 2
[page break]
Our next move, as a crew, was to Conversion Unit No. 1654 at Wigsley, flying four-engined aircraft for the first time, the dreaded Stirling. We duly experienced here the usual type of problem that seemed to be associated with this aircraft when all flying was cancelled for a few days because of undercarriage problems. This was whilst an Air Ministry modification requirement was incorporated into all the Stations' Aircraft. It was at this time that I learned how to "play the dice" (the game of crap) from my American and Canadian co-trainees and enjoyed quite a slice of beginners luck.
Finally our last posting in training was to No.5 Lancaster Flying School at Syerston for a surprisingly rather brief conversion on to Lanc's., consisting of only sixteen hours flying training in this beautiful aircraft, over a period of two weeks. During this time I did however, on one of our training flights out over the Wash, manage to wangle a "go" in the rear turret for the one and only time and to fire off the guns into the sea.
Then we waited with somewhat bated breath and some excitement to hear which Squadron in No.5 Group we were to go to. This was to be No.630 Squadron at East Kirkby in the fenlands of Lincolnshire, about 14 miles from Boston; we were driven off in a van with all our gear, joking and laughing but all of us I think, wondering what the immediate future held.
We were allocated to 'B' Flight and the first week was spent in settling in and on day and night checks and training flights, during which time Bill Adams, our Pilot, went as "second dickie" on an operational flight. Then came our first "trip", which was to Saumer in central France to bomb an important railway junction, a flight of about 6½ hours. Boy! did that aircrew breakfast in the Mess (with an egg!) taste good after debriefing. It was a good feeling with our first "op" safely under our belt, and our initial fears now faced up to and if not overcome, then at least dealt with.
So we settled into a[deleted]n[/deleted] very busy and very exciting life. We were involved just a few hours before the D-day landings, bombing a heavy coastal battery in a bid to help to weaken the enemy defences against our invading forces.
At the briefing we were given dire warnings not to stray from the unusually circuitous route and we guessed that this was "it", the long awaited invasion of Europe, which was confirmed on awakening the following day.
In our first three weeks of action we did nine operational flights and the last of these, which was to Wesseling, just south of Cologne, to bomb a synthetic oil plant, was the "hairiest". From the time we crossed the Dutch coast to the target and back again we continuously encountered German
Page 3
[page break]
night fighters, searchlights and/or heavy ack-ack, we saw many aircraft going down in flames in the darkness.
Of the thirty or so aircraft despatched from East Kirkby (Nos. 630 & 57 Squadrons) eleven were lost (77 men)!
Our ops. continued, to many varying types of targets. During one of these, on our return journey we were attacked from below by a Junkers 88 being used as a night fighter; although we immediately went into the conventional corkscrew avoiding action, his first gunburst caused some damage to the rear of the aircraft and the rear turret was put completely out of action. We were a sitting duck but either by complete luck or by brilliant shooting, Johnny Keisow, our U.S.A. Mid-Upper Gunner, scored "a Hit" although he was catching only occasional brief glimpses of the JU 88 due to the corkscrew action of our aircraft. The attack on us immediately ceased and the enemy aircraft started pulling away on a long sweep on to a reciprocal course away from us. We were able to resume normal flight and from the astrodome I was able to watch as the JU 88, now with flames coming from it, gradually lost height and after a while disappeared into the cloud-base below. We felt like giving three cheers over the intercom but it was strictly necessary to be particularly alert at this possible vulnerable time in case [inserted] any [/inserted] of the JU 88's "mates" were in the vicinity.
Our 13th op. was a daylight raid on vital bridges and German troop concentrations at Caen, where the Allied ground advance had been seriously held up. It was exciting being able for the first time to see "what was going on" in the lovely dawn sunrise, though again the ack-ack was extremely formidable and I saw a Lanc., flying in alongside us, across the French coast, receive a direct hit and just disintegrate into fragments, and any member of the crew possibly surviving was out of the question. It came as something of a shock, actually seeing the moment of destruction so close at hand, it was a case of "There [inserted] but [/inserted] for the grace of God go I".
The 14th trip was, surprisingly, also a daylight op., this time to an aircraft factory at Thiverney, a few miles north of Paris.
So on to the night of 24/25th July 1944, our 16th op., which was to Stuttgart. All went well until we were approximately over the French/German border when we were suddenly attacked by a night-fighter and suffered very considerable damage, which included the loss of our port inner engine and, not least of all, yours truly. I had been hit in the left hip and buttock and quite soon was losing blood at quite a rate. We were in some trouble and our Pilot quickly decided that we must abort the op., ditch the bombs, then head back, hoping to reach Allied Forces territory in northern France on
Page 4
[page break]
which to crash-land, or to bale out. Soon however, flames began licking from the damaged engine and within a very short time the flames grew and spread rapidly and we were told to bale out. I was by now, not in a very good condition and I remember wondering whether I was going to "make it". I remember virtually nothing of getting out of the aircraft or of my parachute descent but the next thing I knew was coming-to in a field in the dark, with my parachute all around me and in addition to earlier wounds, an absolutely agonising pain in my left thigh.
On hearing voices I shouted and it proved to be a French farming family out looking for survivors of the stricken aircraft. I was carried on a step-ladder which was used as a stretcher, to a barn and there laid on straw. The French lady was extremely caring, constantly bathing my forehead and also feeding me soup.
Sometime after daybreak a French gendarme arrived and after earnest conversation with my "hosts" departed and it was not too long after there was the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside, followed by the appearance of a German soldier in the doorway. My heart sank into my shoes! I was taken in a small truck to a P.O.W. hospital in Nancy, in eastern France, where, I learned much later, I was the first 'Brit' to arrive, the other existing patients being mainly French Colonial troops, many of them originally captured in North Africa.
My first week there is more than a little vague in my mind, during which I was, apparently, somewhat delirious, due to delayed treatment for my broken femur, and probably my other wounds. Later, though still painful, my leg was put in traction by means of weights suspended from cords on pulleys over the end of my bed from a 'pin' through my knee. The resulting agony if anyone as much as brushed by [inserted] the [/inserted] weights was intense! Eventually however, after some weeks, my leg was put into what should have been plaster but was actually more like concrete, and with no padding.
This cast covered my lower torso from the waist and then on down to the ball of my left foot and on drying out became extremely tight around my ankle, I was unable to get the staff even to examine it, so I had to put up with the agony I was in.
Food was very poor, consisting largely of black beans and some sort of macaroni just boiled in water. How I longed for the lovely breakfasts and meals we had in our mess in "Blighty". We did get some Red Cross parcels which were a Godsend.
Then, suddenly, after all sorts of rumours about how near the Allied Forces were, the Germans decided to evacuate the whole hospital to Germany, with the exception of four of us, who they considered were too ill to move. We four were moved down into a cellar below the hospital and a French
Page 5
[page break]
Army doctor and a French Colonial orderly were left to look after us.
One of the other three 'types' was Dickie Richardson, an R.A.F. Wireless Operator, who had been transferred from another hospital, and was very severely burned over much of his body, – he was blind, and had a hand amputated. In spite of all this and being bandaged literally from head to foot he was a wonderful character. He was a Midlander, from Worcester, knew Birmingham, and there was something of a natural affinity between us in the particular circumstances. We spent about 10 days in the cellar, fed by local nuns. Towards the end of that period shell-fire broke out on the town above (at our ceiling level), which was later followed by small-arms fire, and then we could hear tremendous cheering; the Yanks (General Patton's U.S. Third Army) had arrived!
Within a short time a U.S. infantry lieutenant had somehow been directed to us in the cellar. Cigarettes were the first order of the day. Soon after his departure U.S. 'medics' arrived to give us some basic and much needed medical attention.
Within an hour army ambulances had arrived and we were transported to a field hospital, all under canvas and a few miles from Nancy.
Subsequent transfers to other field hospitals again under canvas, took us further west during the next few days but to my dismay 'Dickie' and I became separated and I was quite upset because I somehow felt 'responsible' for him. During these moves, and much to my utter relief, my 'plaster' cast was removed by the U.S. medics, the old one was replaced by a much better quality padded cast, only to reveal two very large gangrenous-like wounds on the instep and heel of my foot, caused by the too-tight cast.
I was eventually flown back from Verdun to an airfield somewhere near Reading. I was the only 'Limey' in the hospital plane, a Dakota, the rest being all U.S. infantry stretcher cases, virtually straight from the front lines. In due course I arrived at R.A.F. Hospital, Wroughton, near Swindon, where I was treated for about two months before being transported to the Queen Victoria Hospital at East Grinstead in Sussex, the hospital base of the world famous plastic surgeon, Archibald McIndoe (later knighted), the most impressive and wonderful person I ever met and knew in my whole life. To my surprise and delight I was settled into a bed just next-but-one to 'Dickie' Richardson!
Although by comparison to most of the other patients here, who were all fliers, my medical problems seemed small, as they mostly had all been terribly burned. Even so, the gangrenous matter in my foot had eaten through three of the tendons and I came close to having the foot amputated, but in the end this was avoided and I underwent numerous skin-
Page 6
[page break]
grafting operations and duly qualified as one of Archie McIndoe's (the Boss) Guinea Pigs, a matter of which I am very proud.
My hospital treatment lasted some fifteen months in all. Following this I was medically discharged from the R.A.F. but my Guinea Pig friends have remained my dearest and closest over the ensuing years since 1944 and our Annual Reunions in East Grinstead, lasting for three or four days, are something special, though only about 25% of us still survive, of which some sixty or so are now fit and well enough to attend. 'Dickie' Richardson remained a very wonderful friend and character in spite of his blindness and all his other incapacities until he passed away three years ago in 1997.
Just a few years ago after the end of the war, having through the International Red Cross, traced the whereabouts of the French farming family Dupré, who had found me and looked after me that night in 1944, I wrote to them, sent them parcels, later motored across France with my wife, on route to an Italian holiday, to meet them again and to thank them. I was greeted with flags and bunting strung across from building to building in this so very rural and tiny hamlet of Tramont Lassus in eastern France and though there were some language problems, with the aid of books, paper, arms, hands, my whiskey and their home-made Mirabelle spirit, a great time was had by all! During the day I was taken to the barn in which I had lain and also some distance across the fields etc. was shown the site of our Lanc's final demise, there still, though a little overgrown were the five indentations in the earth of our aircraft's nose and four engines, with small pieces of metal still around, one of which I was able to bring home as a souvenir. I still have it.
Many years later in the mid-1980's I had the irresistible urge to trace my old surviving crew-mates again, our two Gunners, Ross Lough (Canada) and Johnny Keisow (U.S.A.) both having been killed when we were shot down.
What a task it turned out to be and in all took me over three years. My file just grew and grew as I corresponded with all sorts of organisations, associations, groups and individuals in the U.S.A., Canada and the U.K. and finally succeeded as follows:-
Pilot, Bill Adams (U.S.A.): Died in Boston U.S.A in 1979.
Flt/Eng. Trev. Tanner: Although Welsh, settled in Western Canada and just after the war and together with my wife, I visited him on two or three occasions prior to his death in 1998.
Page 7
[page break]
After our 'set-to' in 1944, shortly after bailing out, the above two teamed up and were taken under the wing of a French family, again farmers, and awaited the arrival of the Allied troops pushing east. They eventually reached the U.K. safely.
Bomb Aimer, Eddie Wood ("Woodie") (Canada): Lives in Hamilton, Ontario, and I am in regular touch, having also visited him, in the company of my wife.
Navigator, R.A. ("George") Toogood: lives in Radstock, near Bath, the nearest, yet was the most difficult to trace. We are now in regular touch and meet once or twice a year with our wives.
These two also got together after safely bailing out and undertook the very daunting and sometimes dangerous walk to neutral Switzerland, where they were interned, in reasonable conditions, until they were repatriated to the U.K.
So to the present and our autumn years. My wife and I live quietly and contentedly. I am Member (No. 1367) of the Aircrew Association, Solihull Branch, whose monthly meetings I attend as often as possible and at whose request I have put my memories on paper.
Page 8
[page break]
[photograph]
A/C Arthur Woolf age 19 years in 1941
[photograph]
Flying Officer A.S. Woolf recovering in an R.A.F. hospital in the West Country. November 1944.
[page break]
[photograph]
Photograph taken in the 1950's at Tramont Lassus, Eastern France with the French family Dupré, my 'saviours' on 24/25th July 1944.
From left to right
Rose, Myself, Charles, Henri with Mère in front.
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
Flying Officer Arthur S Woolf - RAF career and experiences in WW2
Description
An account of the resource
First page has head and shoulders portrait of Arthur Woolf wearing uniform tunic with half brevet, medal ribbons and peaked cap. Next page has badges for Bomber Command, 5 Group and 630 Squadron.
Covers joining the RAF at age 19 and training at Blackpool, Yatesbury as radio operator and subsequently at Martlesham and Bridgnorth. Crewing up at RAF Upper Heyford while on OTU flying Wellington. This was followed by four engine training on Stirling then Lancaster before posting to 630 Squadron at RAF East Kirkby. Describes operations mentioning types of target, losses, attack by Ju-88. Continues with account of daylight operation to Caen and later Paris. Describes operation to Stuttgart in July 1944 when they were attacked by night fighter and badly damaged as well as he being injured. After aborting the operation fire forced them to bale out. Continues with account of his injuries, capture, transfer to and experiences at POW hospital near Nancy. Describes liberation by American forces and being flown back to England and then to RAF Hospital. Concludes with account of 15 month hospital treatment, discharge from the RAF, membership of the Guinea Pig Club and trying to trace members of his crew in the mid 1980s. At the end photographs of Arthur Woolf, of him in hospital and of the French family who helped him after he was shot down and injured.
Creator
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A S Woolf
Format
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Thirteen page printed document with b/w and colour photographs
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Photograph
Text. Memoir
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
BWoolfASWoolfASv1
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
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Lancashire
England--Blackpool
England--Shropshire
England--Suffolk
Scotland--Dumfries and Galloway
England--Nottinghamshire
England--Lincolnshire
Germany
Germany--Cologne
France
France--Caen
France--Paris
Germany--Stuttgart
France
France--Nancy
France--Verdun
England--Berkshire
England--Reading
France--Meurthe-et-Moselle
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-07-24
1944-07-25
1941
1944-11
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
Babs Nichols
5 Group
630 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
aircrew
Anson
bale out
bombing
C-47
crewing up
Dominie
Guinea Pig Club
Hampden
Heavy Conversion Unit
Initial Training Wing
Ju 88
killed in action
Lancaster
Lancaster Finishing School
McIndoe, Archibald (1900-1960)
military discipline
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
Operational Training Unit
prisoner of war
Proctor
promotion
RAF Bridgnorth
RAF Dumfries
RAF East Kirkby
RAF Martlesham Heath
RAF Scampton
RAF Syerston
RAF Upper Heyford
RAF Wigsley
RAF Wroughton
RAF Yatesbury
shot down
Stirling
training
Walrus
Wellington
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/837/34511/NGoldbyJL200810-01.2.jpg
d3e92d5f985e2ccd435a9428b0a658cd
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
Goldby, John Louis
J L Goldby
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with John Goldby (1922 - 2020, 1387511, 139407 Royal Air Force). He was shot down and became a prisoner of war in December 1944.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by John Goldby 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
2017-10-25
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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Goldby, JL
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
FOR GALLANTRY.
F/Lt. J.L. Goldby, D.F.C.
[photograph]
Flight-Lieut. John Louis Goldby (139407), R.A.F.V.R., No. 640 Squadron, only son of Mr. and Mrs. E.L. Goldby, of 18, Hadlow-road, Sidcup, has just been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. Born in 1923 at Bexley, he was educated at Chislehurst and Sidcup County School for Boys. He served in the ranks and was commissioned in December, 1942. He is entitled to the 1939-45 Star.
The citation states:-
In September, 1944, whilst engaged on an attack on a synthetic oil plant, the aircraft in which Flight-Lieut. Goldby was flying was severely damaged by heavy anti-aircraft fire. One engine was hit and rendered useless, three petrol tanks were holed and a shell fragment, entering the bomb-aimer's compartment, damaged his equipment. Despite intense physical discomfort and shock, Flight Lieutenant Goldby continued calmly to direct his captain on to the target. This determination and skill resulted in a successful attack. This officer has participated in many operations over enemy territory, and among his targets have been such heavily defended areas as Essen and Duisburg. In his capacity as bombing leader he has been a source of inspiration to his section and has materially contributed to the high standard of efficiency attained.
Last February, after a period of anxiety, his parents received news from the Air Ministry, through the International Red Cross Committee, that he was wounded and a prisoner of war in German hands, after being posted as missing on December 6, 1944. Flight Lieutenant Goldby had a lucky escape, for he was forced to bale out from his burning plane.
He volunteered for service in May, 1941, at the age of 19, and reached the rank of squadron bombing leader, when he received his promotion to Flight Lieutenant.
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Title
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For Gallantry - John Goldby DFC
Description
An account of the resource
A newspaper cutting describing John's DFC.
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
Germany--Essen
Germany--Duisburg
Germany
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Kent
England--London
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
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One newspaper cutting
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NGoldbyJL200810-01
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
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Sue Smith
640 Squadron
aircrew
anti-aircraft fire
bale out
bomb aimer
Distinguished Flying Cross
prisoner of war
Red Cross
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1560/35604/MWestonF126909-161113-14.2.jpg
6b3ea939af0895a81a546272efff0530
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Title
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Weston, Fred
F Weston
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2016-11-13
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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. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
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Weston, F
Description
An account of the resource
20 items. The collection concerns Fred Weston DFC (1916 - 2012, 126909 Royal Air Force) and contains documents and photographs. He flew operations as an air gunner with 101 and 620 Squadrons.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Catherine Millington and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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Caterpillar Club
Certificate of Membership
[inserted] SGT. F. WESTON [/inserted]
is a member of the CATERPILLAR CLUB having saved his life by parachute
Signed [indecipherable signature] HON. SEC. EUROPEAN DIVISION
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Fred Weston's Caterpillar Club Card
Description
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A membership card awarded to Fred for safely parachuting from his aircraft.
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Caterpillar Club
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Royal Air Force
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eng
Type
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Text
Format
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One photocopied sheet
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MWestonF126909-161113-14
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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Sue Smith
aircrew
bale out
Caterpillar Club
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/774/30932/NWoolfAS170629-010001.2.jpg
f868fdba2239343f007cc12e7bc29576
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/774/30932/NWoolfAS170629-010002.2.jpg
923ba3f4d8ee6c345f9cdd43aa405364
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Title
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Woolf, Arthur Sidney
A S Woolf
Description
An account of the resource
23 items. An oral history interview with Flying Officer Arthur Woolf (1922 - 2021, 1579552, 157533 Royal Air Force) his log book, a memoir, correspondence, documents, a newspaper cutting and photographs. He flew operations as a wireless operator with 630 Squadron and became a member of the Guinea Pig Club.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Arthur Woolf and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-06-29
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
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Woolf, AS
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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FREED BY AMERICANS, FLOWN BACK HOME
FLYING OFFICER A.S. WOOLF, of Erdington, member of a bomber crew forced to bale out during a raid on Stuttgart, received leg injuries in landing and was taken prisoner. Later he was transferred to a German hospital near Nancy, where he remained for two months before being freed by American forces. He was flown to this country, and is now making good progress at an R.A.F. hospital in the West Country.
[picture]
[Page break]
Japan ceases to be Great Naval Power
THE extent of the damage inflicted on the Japanese Fleet by the American Navy in the triple battle of the Philippines was so great that it is considered impossible for Japanese shipyards to repair the damage in reasonable time ever again to challenge the now undisputed sea power of the U.S.
Not a single major ship got away undamaged, and if the Americans are able to bring the destructive power of their great air arm to bear on Japan’s [missing words] the Japanese Fleet will be out for good.
The entire Japanese carrier fleet is believed to have been destroyed, says Reuter.
Three carriers have been listed as sunk in the Japanese force which Admiral Halsey’s Third Fleet smashed between Formosa and Luzon, and there is no evidence any carriers escaped.
The Japanese are not believed to possess any other carriers ready for action although some are being built.
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Title
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Freed by Americans flown back home
Description
An account of the resource
Account of Flying Officer A S Woolf baling out of bomber after an attack on Stuttgart, injured and transferred to German hospital near Nancy he was liberated by American forces and flown home. On the reverse 'Japan ceases to be great naval power' article.
Format
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One newspaper cutting
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Identifier
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NWoolfAS170629-01
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
United States Army
Spatial Coverage
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France
France--Nancy
Germany
Germany--Stuttgart
Contributor
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David Bloomfield
Anne-Marie Watson
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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
bale out
prisoner of war
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1996/32071/MHoganPJ436464-171205-02.2.jpg
cd9d6a209cead5a2b857a27f19465a3e
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Title
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Hogan, P J
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2017-12-05
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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. 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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Hogan, PJ
Description
An account of the resource
Ninety-six items and a sub-collection with twenty two items..
The collection concerns Flight Sergeant Pat Hogan (436464 Royal Australian Air Force) and contains letters home to his family, his flying log book, accounts of his aircraft being shot down and him baling out, official documents, certificates and photographs.
He flew operations as a navigator with 466 Squadron.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Elizabeth Anne Lusby and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
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Description
An account of the resource
A certificate from G. Q. parachute company appointing Flight Sergeant P J Hogan RAAF to be a member of the G Q Club. At top colour artwork showing a man on parachute against blue sky with white clouds.
Date
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1945-04-23
Format
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Printed certificate with artwork
Language
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eng
Type
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Artwork
Text
Identifier
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MHoganPJ436464-171205-02
Coverage
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Civilian
Royal Australian Air Force
Spatial Coverage
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Great Britain
England--Surrey
England--Woking
Temporal Coverage
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1945-04-23
Title
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G. Q. Club certificate
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
bale out
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1742/34417/NHowellJ170423-01.1.jpg
75ce69a769c81db2a21779dc3537980c
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1742/34417/NHowellJ170423-02.1.jpg
41eaa05f7350212406c084e794cbadad
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Title
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Howell, Jack
J Howell
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-04-23
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Howell, J
Description
An account of the resource
Five items. The collection concerns sergeant Sergeant Jack Howell (55260 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, photographs ans newspaper clippings. He flew operations as a wireless operator with 144 Squadron and was killed 10 April 1941. <br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Jeff Howell and catalogued by Barry Hunter. <br /><br />Additional information on Jack Howell is available via the <a href="https://losses.internationalbcc.co.uk/loss/111358/">IBCC Losses Database.</a>
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
Faversham [indecipherable word] and East Kent Journal
21st NOVEMBER, 1941
[non-war unrelated articles and advertisements]
NOTABLE RECORDS OF FAMILY SERVICE
Four Sons and a Son-in-law
Mr. Frank Ward, of Water Lane, Ospringe, has four sons and a son-in-law serving in H.M. Forces. All are in the Army.
Eldest of the sons is William Ward (42) a Private in The Buffs, whose home is at 65 Upper Brents. He was serving in the last war in the King’s Royal Rifles and was in France for two years. Before joining up for the present war about two years ago he was working in Messrs. Burley’s brickfield at Sittingbourne.
Frederick Ward (37) is a Private in the Pioneer Corps in which he has been serving since last May. He is a single man and makes his home with his father. Before joining up he was working in Messrs. Cremer and Whiting’s brickfield.
Edgar Ward (36) is also a single man, residing with his father. He volunteered soon after the war broke out and is a Signaller, at present serving in the Middle East. He, too, was working in Messrs. Burley’s brickfield before he joined up.
The other son, Timothy Ward (30), is a regular soldier. He has been in the Army for nine years and is a Sergeant in The Buffs. For five years he was in India and in the early part of the present war he was in France. He is married and his home is at Canterbury.
The son-in-law is A. Robson, a Canterbury man, who was called up just recently.
Another son, Frank Ward, of 4 Flood Lane, is serving in the Home Guard.
–
Y.M.C.A. CENTRES
To the Editor [missing word] “News”
appeals now being made to the generosity of the people of Faversham, may I, as the mother of two daughters, address one on behalf of the Y.M.C.A., especially to the parents.
Many of the young women of Faversham have gone into the W.R.N.S., A.T.S., W.A.A.F., Land Army and Industrial work, and for their benefit the Y.M.C.A. provides in its Club Canteens places where friendly contact may be made with other young women, away from the atmosphere of barrack-dormitories or village billets.
Mrs. Churchill commends this appeal to you and uses these words:- “I know that after two years of war everyone is already working hard in their various spheres – but the need of the Y.M.C.A. is essentially one of the moment. It is not only the girls now being called up who ask for our help but their parents, who – seeing their daughters leave home for the first time – are anxious that they shall find the comfort and friendship of the Y.M.C.A. Centre in the unfamiliar lives on which they are entering. I feel confident that the “Men of Kent” and “Kentish Men” will be well to the fore in giving the fullest support to this appeal, which I commend to you all from the bottom of my heart.”
Donations – please make them generous! – should be sent to me at Newton House. All will be acknowledged.
P.K. JOHNSON,
Mayoress.
3, Briton Road,
Faversham.
–
(Continued from Column 2)
that occasion when he bales out, he landed in the middle of a wood at three o’clock in the morning.
Writing to his parents at the time he was reported missing an officer said: “A long series of flights had been carried out by your son with marked success and gallantry. This, in fact, was his 53rd raid and the pride which you must feel in him and what he has done is shared by us.”
–
Charles Lewis Dorman
In June last we recorded that Charles Lewis Dorman, of the Royal Navy, had been killed in action. He was then described as a 1st class Stoker. On Friday last, however, his wife (who is a daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Urbane Beach, of 5 Front Brents, Faversham) received the information that on April 24th. only about thr[missing letters] weeks before he was killed, he had been promoted to Acting Leading Stoker [missing letters]
–
[missing letters]LED BY ENEMY ACTION
[missing letters]mer Faversham Resident
During enemy action over south-east England on Tuesday, Mrs. Rosetta Castle, formally of Faversham, was killed, and [missing words] Mr. A.G. Castle was [missing words] injured.
Mr. Castle [missing words] many years with the firm of Messrs. Henry S. Tett and Co., Faversham [missing words] years he had been [missing words] house.
Mrs. Castle [missing words] daughter of the late Mr. and [missing word] William Broad, of the Bull Inn, [missing word], and a sister of Mrs. H. Chittenden, of Faversham.
–
SERVING THEIR KING AND COUNTRY
DOWNS, Terry Alfred, 2nd Engineer H.M.S. Dominence (M.V.) (79 Upper Brents).
DOWNS, Ronald Arthur, Ordinary Seaman, H.M.S. Glendower (79 Upper Brents).
MARSH, Monica Rosa, A.C.W./2. W.A.A.F. (28 Forbes Road).
PARNELL, P.E., A.C.W./2, W.A.A.F. (23 Willlow [sic] Avenue, Lower Road).
SMITH, Percy, Fitter, R.A.O.C. (35 Stone Street).
–
[boxed] News
YOUNG AIRMAN’S DEATH
STORY OF HOW HE WON D.F.M.
ALLEGED ASSAULT IN POULTRY MARKET
LOCAL POPPY DAY RESULTS
EX-POLICE OFFICER’S WEDDING
KILLED BY ENEMY ACTION
DEATH OF RESIDENTS
FAVERSHAM YOUTH’S THEFTS
ANOTHER FAMILY SERVICE RECORD
THE TOWNSWOMEN’S GUILD
COUNCIL WORKERS’ WAGES [/boxed]
–
GALLANT YOUNG FAVERSHAM AIRMAN
STORY OF HOW SERGT. JACK HOWELL GAINED THE D.F.M.
SERGT. JACK HOWELL, D.F.M., the gallant young Faversham Airman, who some months ago was reported missing, is now, alas, reported killed.
Only a few days before he met his death he had been decorated by the King with the Distinguished Flying Medal. The story of the circumstances in which he gained that award reveals the resource, the courage and the bravery of our lads of the air and excites our pride in them.
Sergt. Howell was the son of Mr. Albert Howell (who is himself now serving in the Air Force as a Sergt. Instructor) and Mrs. Howell, of 70 Abbey Street. He was only 19 and was one of the youngest airmen to gain the D.F.M.
[photograph]
It was in the middle of April last that news was received that he had been posted as missing since the 10th of that month.
His parents have now had a notification from the Air Ministry that Sergt. Howell "was killed in action when engaged in air operations over enemy country."
They have also received the following letter from H.M. the King: "The Queen and I offer you our heartfelt sympathy in your great sorrow. We pray that your country's gratitude for a life so nobly given in its service may bring you some measure of consolation."
This young man made no boast of his achievement in gaining a decoration, indeed he had not even told his parents, who first learned of it through the Press!
And it was only just recently that his father saw the official record of the award. In few words it tells a stirring story and recalls how, when it became to baling out, Sergt. Howell succeeded in getting an unconscious comrade out of the plane.
Here is the official record:-
February, 1941. While returning from operations over the enemy countries, the aircraft in which Sergt. Howell was wireless operator and air-gunner was badly damaged from A.A. fire, the starboard engine being put out of action and the aerial masts shot away. Later, while crossing the North Sea, the observer collapsed and it was found he was badly wounded in the chest. As the aircraft was losing height the pilot gave orders to throw all heavy equipment overboard. Sergt. Howell fixed up an improvised trailing aerial and was successful in getting contact with a coastal station which guided them back by keeping close contact. Shortly after reaching the coast of England the port engine caught fire and failed. The order came quickly for the crew to bale out. Sergt. Howell, dragging with him the unconscious observer, baled out and was successful in pulling the observer's rip-cord before releasing his own. To use the words of his pilot (stated in his report) Sergt. Howell's coolness, courage and devotion in the face of grave danger was an example of heroism and comradeship."
Sergt. Jack Howell was educated at Faversham District Schools and afterwards went into the grocery trade as an assistant. But it had been his ambition to be an airman and in 1938 he joined the Royal Air Force.
As already indicated, he was a very unassuming lad. When he was last home on leave – only a few weeks before he met his death – it was noticed that he was wearing the gold caterpillar, a badge presented to airmen who are forced to bale out from their planes while on duty. He had said nothing about it, but it was gathered that on
(Continued at foot of column 5)
–
Mr. THERM ON ACTIVE SERVICE
FUELLING OUR PLANES . . .
[photograph]
AS BRITAIN’S FIGHTER PLANES streak across the sky at 300 and 400 miles an hour, a gas by-product is helping them to attain these high speeds. Benzole – distilled at the gas works – is the “anti-knock” component of thousands of gallons of high-performance aviation fuel.
FAVERSHAM GAS COMPANY
88-90 WEST STREET FAVERSHAM
“THE BLUE OF HEAVEN IS LARGER THAN THE CLOUD”
[page break]
Two FAVERSHAM [missing words] JOURNAL Friday, November 21st, 1941
[non-war unrelated articles and advertisement]
REMEMBRANCE AT THE BRENTS
British Legion and Home Guard Attend Service
Members of the Faversham Branch of the British Legion and the Women’s Section paid their annual visit to The Brents Church for a service of remembrance last Sunday afternoon. this year a considerable contingent of members of the Home Guard also attended. Among the British Legion representatives were the Mayor, Councillor Phil Johnson (Chairman of the Branch), Coun. C.E. Ely (one of the Vice-presidents) and Mrs. Cooper (Chairman of the Women’s Section).
The service was conducted by the Vicar, Rev. J.A. Osbourne, the lessens being read by the Mayor.
Before proceeding with his address the Vicar welcomed the Mayor and expressed appreciation of his visit again, also of the fact that he had taken on his important office for the fifth year in these strenuous times when there was a state of continual emergency.
He welcome [sic] also the British Legion, an organisation which for many years had been caring for those who fell by the way in the last war and was now taking up the additional task of helping those in trouble through the present war, and was exhibiting that social spirit which was so valuable in a time like this. Good work had indeed been done, and was being done by the local branch of the Legion. He had had experience (said the Vicar) of two or three branches and he could in all sincerity compliment the Faversham Branch on being the best among them.
He welcomed, too, the members of the Home Guard. It was the first time they had attended this church and he was pleased indeed to see them and hoped it might not be the last occasion. They represented a new and vigorous force of free men who had taken on the job of helping the country in its hour of need and had put themselves in a position to defend the hearths and homes of England. They were the symbol of the free men of England in this critical hour.
The Christian Religion And The War
Speaking of the connection between the Christian religion and the war, the Vicar said it might be asked what connection there could possibly be between the figure of Christ and all the horrors of this ghastly business of war. By way of answer he [missing word] General Smuts – one of the most [missing word] [missing letters]arkable statement of our time [missing words] said: “We are fighting for [missing word] compared with which the betterment of our earthly lot means nothing. I look upon this war as one of the great religious wars of the world; it is once more the historic fight which has had to be fought out from age to age – the fight between light and darkness.” And another great statement, President Roosevelt, in his appeal to his people, based that appeal upon the Christian claims and interests of humanity in this world.
The preacher referred also to two other outstanding figures, namely the Emperor of Ethiopia, who, it was reported, marked his return to his country and people by the holding of a Christian service, and Chiang-Kai-Shek, the leader of China, who in his long struggle was holding on to the truths of the Christian faith.
Later he said we were determined that the world which God had given to us should not be turned into a great concentration camp, but that human personality was preserved – in the Lord. He stressed those last words, remarking that we could not and would not succeed if we relied upon our own strength.
The service concluded with the recital by the Mayor of the British Legion’s act of remembrance, the Last Post and Reveille and the singing of “O Valiant Hearts” and the National Anthem.
The collection was for Mrs. Churchill’s fund for Red Cross aid to Russia.
–
[unrelated article and photograph]
–
THE BRITISH LEGION
Armistice Night Supper
The Faversham of the British Legion held its usual Armistice Night supper on Tuesday, November 11th. at the Recreation Club, and was well supported. They had as guests a number of soldiers stationed in the district, including their Commanding Officer.
In welcoming the guests, His Worship the Mayor, who is also Chairman of the Branch, stated that the Branch affairs were really being carried on by a few loyal members some of whom had been on the Committee practically since its inception. It was their desire to hand over at the end of this war to the younger ex-service men a flourishing organisation in good financial condition, when the ex-service men of the last war could take a well-earned rest.
Replying on behalf of the military to a toast to the Forces, the Officer present stressed the importance of not making the mistakes that were made after the last war. This country, he remarked should not disarm again until all other nations had done so. The only guarantee of world peace was a strong British Empire.
Home Guard Recruiting
Mayor E.H. Wix, speaking for the Home Guard, pointed out the seriousness of the threat of invasion, which must still be expected. The terrible treatment meted out by the Huns to womenfolk in the conquered countries could certainly be expected here if they got control of any part of this country. If invasion came the main job would be to kill Huns and this must be left to the armed forces, i.e. the Regular Army and the Home Guard. He was perturbed at the thinning of the Home Guard ranks as the younger men were called to the Colours. There was far too much complacency about, possibly due to the recent immunity from heavy bombing and the gallant resistance of our Russian Allies. He made a strong appeal to all ex-service men to do their utmost to get recruits for the Home Guard.
Capt. R.A. Darney in proposing the toast of the Chairman pointed out that this Branch was very fortunate in having as Chairman a man who was also Chief Magistrate of [missing word] town.
Colonel Hooper, [missing letters]wledging a toast to himself, [missing words] reminiscences of service [missing words] back one and said that in [missing words] [missing letters]anaged, since wondered how they [missing words] wireless, [missing words] been a real Gentleman’s War!
The musical part of the proceedings comprised piano-accordeon [sic] solos by Miss Fettes, a humourous monologue by the Mayor, songs by Mr. A.J. Hurn and community singing by the whole company. Mr. Jack Knowler was at the piano.
–
ENGLISH SAGA
By DOROTHY DEVEREUX
(née Dorothy Keech)
These were the best of us,
These were the ones who died for England’s sake,
For love and honour – thus they sped with glorious feet out into war.
To have, to give, we take
And, worshipping, adore.
These were the rising youth,
These were the ones who grew in England’s soil.
Who scorned to slight the truth,
To fill the world with babbling tales of wrong.
They had no heart to spoil
The beauty of life’s song.
These are the changeless ones,
These are our past, our future and our all –
Our fathers, brothers, sons –
They fell beside us, even as we fell.
But England will not fall
And she will live to tell.
–
German Gun Scrapped
New Romney Town Council have decided not to dispose of two 17th Century guns but a German machine gun received after the 1914-18 war is to go for scrap.
[advertisements]
KEEP TAPPING THE V . . . – THE SIGN OF THE FREE.
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
Gallant Young Faversham Airman
Description
An account of the resource
A newspaper cutting with a description of how Jack was awarded a DFM. This was awarded because he assisted an unconscious colleague to bale out of their damaged aircraft.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Faversham News
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1941-11-21
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Great Britain
England--Faversham
England--Kent
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
Format
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One double sided newspaper cutting
Identifier
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NHowellJ170423-01, NHowellJ170423-02
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1941-02
1941-04-10
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Sue Smith
Steve Baldwin
aircrew
anti-aircraft fire
bale out
Distinguished Flying Medal
killed in action
wireless operator / air gunner
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/459/8034/BNorthGJNorthGJv1.1.pdf
e2ed89186df7c2effb65cb00cef77577
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
North, Geoffrey John
North, G J
North, Johnny
Description
An account of the resource
31 items. The collection concerns Flight Lieutenant Geoffrey John 'Johnny' North, DFC, (173836, Royal Air Force) who served as a rear gunner on 428, 76 and 35 Squadrons flying Wellington, Halifax and Lancaster. He was called up in 1940 from his job as a tailor in Saville Row where he returned after the war. He was shot down on an operation to Duisburg on 21 February 1945. The collection contains his logbook, an account of his shooting down, capture and time as a prisoner of war, including documentation, forced march to another camp in 1945, liberation and repatriation. The collection includes membership documents for Royal Air Force Association, Pathfinders Association and Caterpillar Club as well as personnel documentation, Pathfinder badge correspondence and photographs of crew and squadron as well as other memorabilia.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Carole Bishopp and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-05-20
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
North, G
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
PART I
I WANDERED
LONELY AS A
CLOUD !!
21/2/45. Baled out 23.05 landed
23.20. S/C 23.59 walked 12 miles.
22/2/45 Captured 10AM by Civil Police.
10/12 Police Station. 12/2 Jail, 2/6 Motorbike
to front line. Watch etc taken. Marched 8
miles via transit camp with 8 soldiers to
[undecipherable] village. Slept in stairs in
abandoned school.
23/2/45 First Food, Bread Marg. Tinned Meat
Tea. Marched 14 miles via Rhine Ferry to
Transit Camp. Lt Lindsey.
24/2/45 [undecipherable] Horse & Cart to Stalag
at Barchalt. 5 to a cell, radiator, [undecipherable]
& 1 blanket. Comfort!
[Page Break]
25/2/45 Barchalt. 26/2/45 Barchalt
27/2/45 Barchalt to Hansdorf Marched 8
miles through [cross out] Munster.
28/2/45 Left Hansdorf 1/3/45 Travelling
2/3/45 Travelling, Kassell, Legless Aussie
3/3/45 arrived Obereusel. 4/5/45 Obereusel.
5/3/45 Obereusel 6/3/45 Left Obereusel.
7/3/45 Arrived Dulay Luft. 1st Shower,
Food, Beds, Clothing. Soap, Hair Cut, etc.
8/3/45 Left Dulay,
9/3/45 Train Bombed at Niederhausen [inserted] By USA MARAUDERS [/inserted]
Walked 5 k’metre to Eppstein.
10/5/45 Eppstein. 11/5/45 Left Eppstein
at night. travell [crossed out]] 12/3/45 Travelling
13/3/45 Travelling 14/3/45 Travelling
15/3/45 Arrived Stunlayer Thank God!
[Page Break]
PARTII THE TREK
4/4/45 Left Kreigsgefangenenlager der Luft III
on the march. Slept in Pine Wood
5/4/45 Divebombed [inserted] BY USA THUNDER BOLTS [/inserted] Reached outskirts of
Neumarht @1500. Raining at 1800
[undecipherable] at 2300.
6/4/45 Fell in @ 02.00 marched in Rain
till 0600. Slept in pine wood in the
rain. S/C 10.00. Reached Barching Stadt
Ground Bread Honey Tinned Meat, Traded
for bottles & matches. Slept church.
7/4/45 Left column fort before [undecipherable]
Bathing Pond
8/4/45 Lift to top of hill. Walked on
alone caught up column, Frosty.
9/4/45, With column all day. Issued
[Page Break]
Parcel at Nieustadt. Bridge mined.
10/4/45 Stayed near Nieustadt all day with
sick. Wizard Farm, Lau Joe Darky Ben Eggs., all our aim.
11/4/45 French Parcel. Bullock Waggon
for 11 k’ometres. Break at midday, forts
bombing all round us.
12/4/45 Stayed in same village, Lau Green, Joe
Darley, Ben Chris & Me. Orchard.
13/4/54 Refined Mess Party on the
road Marched 5 K’metres
14/4/45 stayed put all day, old lady no trade
15/4/45 Stayed Put.
16/4/45 Marched 10 K’metres to Pfeffenhausen.
Kimi and myself. Large Spud issue
17/4/45 Marched 10 k’metres to Obermunchen
3 Eggs. 20 French Fags
18/4/45 Left Obermunchen 17.00 marched 7
K’metres to Naider Munchen
[Page Break]
PART II CONTD
19/4/45 Stayed Naider Munchen. Acquired
a new bottle.
20/4/45 Marched 8 k’metres. Arrived
Maasburg.
[Page Break]
PART III
KRIEGIE No MORE
29/4/45 Fighting heard @ 09.00. Stars
& Stripes raised in camp at 12.30. Tank
& Jeeps in compound @14.30.
1/5/45 Issue White Bread, Flour, Good
[undecipherable] Kiwi acquired Frying Pan.
Rhubarb
2/5/45 Rice + Rhubarb Pancakes.
3/5/45 Doughnuts
4/5/45[undecipherable] + Mirror Pictures Rhubarb
Potatoes, Killed Pig.
5/5/45 Wood from house. Celery Onions
& Parsnips acquired. Pork Chops & chips
for breakfast.
[deleted] 6/5/45 pork chop and chips [/deleted]
[Page Break]
6/5/45 Pork chops, Roast and Mashed spuds
Parsnips, Plum Pudding. Killed a
Rabbit. Announced 10,000 leaving
Tomorrow
7/5/45 Breakfast Pork chop and chips,
Deloused. Rabbit Stew. Corned Beef
Hash Prunes & Toothpaste blancmange
8/5/45 Kiwi & Tom left @ 05.30, Fried Eggs
Spam Spuds & bread, Cereal. Victory Fudge
Moved out @ 5minutes notice left camp at 13.15
Lorry to Landshut airfield. Back to Landshut &
in billet @1800. K Rations, Bouillon, corned
Pork Roll, Plum Pudding. German Beer!!!
9/5/45 Ham & Egg Toast & Marmalade. Airfield
All day, Landshut Bouillon, Canned Pork Loaf
& Spam and Tomatoes.
16/5/45 Shredded Wheat, Ham & Eggs, LT.
HARRINGTON DAKOTA B 09.35 2.25
[Page Break]
PART III Cont’d
To Rheim. Lorry to Camp. Meal Corned
Beef Peas and Potatoes Peaches Coffee, Lorry
To Juviencourt w/o BELIVEAU. Lancaster
18.25
W 01.35 to Westcolt.
11/5/45 00.30 Lorry to Leighton Buzzard. Train
to Cosford. Registration Telegram Bath [deleted] Bed [/deleted]
& Breakfast & bed. 14.00 – 17.00 Doc
Clothing etc.
12/5/45.
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
Geoffrey North account of being shot down and time as prisoner of war
Description
An account of the resource
A day by day account consisting of three parts. Part one covers his being shot down on 21 February 1945, his capture and journey to prisoner of war camp arriving 15 March 1945 including an mention that his train was bombed by Marauders. Part two covers forced march from prisoner of war camp 'Kreigsgefaninenlager der Luft 3' from 4 April 1945 to to Moosburg on 20 April 1945 and includes account of being strafed by Thunderbolts. Part three covers liberation by United States army on 29 April 1945 to his repatriation by C-47 and Lancaster on 10 May 1945. In part 3 he writes enthusiastically about the meals and food. The account is written on American red cross paper.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Geoffrey North
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Eight page handwritten 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
BNorthGJNorthGJv1
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
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Germany
Germany--Bocholt
Germany--Kassel
Germany--Oberursel
Germany--Eppstein im Taunus
Germany--Neustadt an der Weinstrasse
Germany--Moosburg an der Isar
Germany--Landshut
France
Great Britain
England--Buckinghamshire
England--Aylesbury
England--Bedfordshire
England--Leighton Buzzard
England--Shropshire
England--Telford
France--Reims
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1945-02-21
1945-02
1945-03
1945-04-04
1945-04
1945-04-29
1945-05
1945-05-10
1945-05-11
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Claire Monk
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
bale out
C-47
Dulag Luft
Lancaster
military living conditions
Operation Exodus (1945)
prisoner of war
RAF Cosford
shot down
the long march
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/459/8209/MNorthGJ173836-160523-10.2.jpg
5fd2a8d273371da198caca8e52f20cd0
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
North, Geoffrey John
North, G J
North, Johnny
Description
An account of the resource
31 items. The collection concerns Flight Lieutenant Geoffrey John 'Johnny' North, DFC, (173836, Royal Air Force) who served as a rear gunner on 428, 76 and 35 Squadrons flying Wellington, Halifax and Lancaster. He was called up in 1940 from his job as a tailor in Saville Row where he returned after the war. He was shot down on an operation to Duisburg on 21 February 1945. The collection contains his logbook, an account of his shooting down, capture and time as a prisoner of war, including documentation, forced march to another camp in 1945, liberation and repatriation. The collection includes membership documents for Royal Air Force Association, Pathfinders Association and Caterpillar Club as well as personnel documentation, Pathfinder badge correspondence and photographs of crew and squadron as well as other memorabilia.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Carole Bishopp and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-05-20
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
North, G
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[Caterpillar Club logo]
Caterpillar Club
Certificate of Membership
[Underlined] F/O G. J. NORTH [/underlined]
is a member of the CATERPILLAR CLUB,
having saved his life by parachute.
SIGNED [Signature]
HON. SEC. EUROPEAN DIVISON.
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
Geoffrey North Caterpillar club membership card
Description
An account of the resource
Catepillar clubcertificate of membership made out to 'F/O G J North'. Signed by hon sec European Division
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Printed card
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Civilian
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Irving Air Chute Company
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Anne-Marie Watson
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MNorthGJ173836-160523-10
bale out
Caterpillar Club
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/459/8035/BNorthGJNorthGJv2.2.pdf
e93160163154f39a8cee009159ed8663
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
North, Geoffrey John
North, G J
North, Johnny
Description
An account of the resource
31 items. The collection concerns Flight Lieutenant Geoffrey John 'Johnny' North, DFC, (173836, Royal Air Force) who served as a rear gunner on 428, 76 and 35 Squadrons flying Wellington, Halifax and Lancaster. He was called up in 1940 from his job as a tailor in Saville Row where he returned after the war. He was shot down on an operation to Duisburg on 21 February 1945. The collection contains his logbook, an account of his shooting down, capture and time as a prisoner of war, including documentation, forced march to another camp in 1945, liberation and repatriation. The collection includes membership documents for Royal Air Force Association, Pathfinders Association and Caterpillar Club as well as personnel documentation, Pathfinder badge correspondence and photographs of crew and squadron as well as other memorabilia.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Carole Bishopp and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-05-20
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
North, G
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
GEOFFREY JOHN NORTH. REAR GUNNER.
PART 1. “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud”.
21/2/45 20.05 [inserted] R [/inserted] LANCASTER F/LT TROPMAN D.F.C. REAR GUNNER. OP.DUISBERG.
21.02.45. Bailed out at 23.05, landed 23.20 S/C 23.59.
Walked 12 miles.
22.02.45 Captured 10 am by civil police. 10.12 police station. 12.02 jail. 14.06 motorbike to front line. Watch etc. taken. Marched 8 miles via transit camp with 8 soldiers to burning village. Slept on straw in abandoned school.
23.02.45. First food – bread, marg, tinned meat, tea. Marched 14 miles via Rhine Ferry to transit camp. Lt. Lindsey - ? one of “Geoff’s” crew.
24.02.45. Soup! Horse and cart to Stalag at Bocholt. Five to a cell, radiator, pallias[?] & 1 blanket. Comfort!
25.02.45 – 26.02.45 Bocholt Stalag (POW camp).
27.02.45 Bocholt to Hansderf(?) marched 8 miles Munster.
28.02.45 Left Hansderf.
1.03.45 Travelling.
2.03.45 Arrived Kassell, “Legless” Aussie – as in “no legs”.
3.03.45 Arrived Oberursel [left to right arrow] 6/03.45.
7.03.45 Arrived Dulag Luft. Hot shower, food, beds, clothing, soap, hair cut etc.
8.3.45 Left Dulag.
9.03.45 Train bombed at Neidernhausen by U.S.A. marauders, walked 5k to Eppstein.
10.03.45. Eppstein. 11.03.45 Left Eppstein at night.
12.03.45 – 14.03.45 Travelling.
15.03.45 Arrived at Stanlayer? [?] Staumlager? [?] THANK GOD.
PART 2 The Trek.
[deleted] Lasted until [/deleted]
[page break]
04/04/45. Left kreigsgefanginenlager [sic] der Luft 3 POW camp, on the march, slept in pine woods.
5.04.45 Dive-bombed by USA Thunderbolts. Reached outskirts of Neumarket at 15.00 hrs. Raining at 18.00, soup at 23.00.
6.04.45 Fall in at 02.00, marched in rain until 06.00, slept in pine wood in rain. S/C 10.00. Reached Berching Stadt. Issued bread, honey, tinned meat. Traded for bottles and matches. Slept church.
7.04.45. Left column just after Beilingries [Beilngries] bathing pool.
8.04.45. Lift to top of hill, walked on alone, caught up with column. Frosty.
9.04.45. With column all day. Issued parcels at Neustadt. Bridge mined.
10.04.45. Stayed near Neustadt all day with sick Lou, Joe, Darky/Darby Ben. Wizard farm, barn, eggs, all our own.
11.04.45. French parcel. Bullock wagon for 11km. break at midday, forts? fortress bombing all round us.
12.04.45 Stayed in same village. Lou Green, Joe, Darky/Darby, Ben, Chris & pal. Orchard.
13.04.45 Rejoined main party on the road, marched 5km.
14.04.45 – 15.04.45 Stayed put. Old lady “no trade”.
16.04.45 Marched 10km to Pfeffenhousen.[sic] Kiwi and myself. Large spud issue.
17.04.45 Marched 10km. to Obermunchen. 3 eggs. 20 french fags.
18.04.45. left Obermunchen 17.00, marched 7km. to Neider Munchen.
19.04.45. Stayed at Neider Munchen. Acquired a new bottle.
20.04.45. Marched 8km, arrived Moosburg Stalag.
PART 3.
KRIEGIE NO MORE.
[page break]
29.04.45. Fighting heard at 09.00. Stars and Stripes raised in camp at 12.30. Tanks and jeeps in compound at 14.30.
01.05.45. Issue white bread, flour, good soup. Kiwi acquired frying pan, rhubarb.
02.05.45. Rice and rhubarb pancakes.
03.05.45. Doughnuts.
04.05.45. Into town. Mirror, pictures, rhubarb, potatoes. Killed pig.
05.05.45. Wood from house. Celery onions and parsnips acquired. Pork shop and chips for breakfast.
06.05.45. Pork chops, roast and mashed spuds, parsnips. Plum pudding. Killed a rabbit. Announced 10,000 leaving tomorrow (Moosburg – 80,000 detained).
07.05.45 Breakfast pork chop & chips. Deloused. Rabbit stew. Corned beef hash, prunes, [underlined] tooth-paste blancmange. [/underlined]
08.05.45. Kiwi and Tom left at 05.30. Fried eggs, spam, spuds, bread, cereal. Victory fudge. Moved out at 5 minutes notice; left camp at 13.15. Convoy to Landshut [deleted one letter] airfield Back to Landshut, in billet 18.00. Krations, bouillon, corned[?] pork roll, plum pudding. GERMAN BEER!!!
09.05.45. Ham and eggs, toast & marmalade. Airfield all day Landshut. Bouillon, corned pork load, spam and tomatoes.
10.05.45. Shredded wheat, ham and eggs. LT. HARRINGTON DAKOTA.B09.35 2.25 to Rheims. Lorry to camp. Meal, corned beef peas potatoes, peaches, coffee. Lorry to Jurincourt. W/O BELIVEAU, Lancaster 18.25/01.35 hrs. to Westcott.
11.05.45. 00.30 lorry to Leighton Buzzard. Train to Cosford. Registration, telegram. Bath, breakfast, bed. 14.00 – 17.00 Doctor, clothing etc.
[page break]
Footnotes.
Kassell – HQ for WEHRKREIS IX, & local sub-camp of Dachau concentration camp; provided forced labour for Henschel facilities. SEVERELY BOMBED.
Oberursel – North West of [deleted] Franf [/deleted] Frankfurt, east of Kronberg. U.S. & G B Airmen passed through, interrogated & “processed” into P.O.W. system. “Transit camp of Luftwaffe”, in town. Name shortened to Dulag Luft, or Dulag.
Neidernhausen – Allies advance in ’44 due to strategic rail importance. Heavily bombed especially on 22.02.45.
14/4/45. Old lady no trade – Geoff told me they had tried to barter with her in exchange for food, but she refused. Maybe terrified of recriminations?
Moosburg – Stalag (POW camp). Originally planned to hold 10,000 prisoners, by end of war some 80,000 detained.
[deleted] Keirgie [/deleted] Kriegie – slang for Allied POW in WWII German POW (internment) camp.
Jurincourt – abandoned (now) military airfield, in Aisne region of France. Built by French air force before WWII, grass runways. Taken over and expanded to become one of the main Luftwaffe air bases during German occupation – fighter and bomber planes. Seized by Allies in ’44, became major USAF base for fighter, bomber, & transport units, for remainder of war.
[page break]
Hasderf / Hansdorf )
Stamlayer /Staumlager ) no trace on internet for these spellings.
11/4/45 “forts bombing - ? Fortress planes?
[page break]
Three months after repatriation Geoff was flying again, 35 Squadron 8 Group, Grarely. [?] He flew three missions in Lancasters, 2 with F/Lt. Ashwell, one with Sq/Ld[?] Baldwin DFC, DFM, DSO.
In September 45, he flew twice as a passenger from Graveley – Tibbenham – Berlin, with F/Lt. England and returning Berlin – Tibbenham – Graveley.
His total Daylight flying time shows 289.40
His total Nightime [sic] flying time was 381.15
Total flying hours 670.55
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Geoffrey North rewritten account of being shot down and time as prisoner of war
Description
An account of the resource
A day by day account consisting of three parts. Part one covers his being shot down on 21 February 1945, his capture and journey to prisoner of war camp arriving 15 March 1945 including an mention that his train was bombed by Marauders. Part two covers forced march from prisoner of war camp 'Kreigsgefaninenlager der Luft 3' from 4 April 1945 to to Moosburg on 20 April 1945 and includes account of being strafed by Thunderbolts. Part three covers liberation by United States army on 29 April 1945 to his repatriation by C-47 and Lancaster on 10 May 1945. In part 3 he writes enthusiastically about the meals and food. The account is written lined paper. At the end footnotes concerning Kassel, Oberursel, Neidenhausen, Moosburg, Kriegie and Juvincourt. Followed by some research notes and descriptions of Geoffrey North's flying after his repatriation.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Six page handwritten 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
BNorthGJNorthGJv2
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
Royal Canadian Air Force
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Germany
Germany--Bocholt
Germany--Kassel
Germany--Oberursel
Germany--Eppstein im Taunus
Germany--Neustadt an der Weinstrasse
Germany--Moosburg an der Isar
Germany--Landshut
France
Great Britain
England--Buckinghamshire
England--Bedfordshire
England--Shropshire
England--Cambridgeshire
France--Juvincourt-et-Damary
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1945-02-21
1945-02
1945-03
1945-04-04
1945-04
1945-05
1945-05-10
1945-05-11
1945-09
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Geoffrey North
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Sue Smith
David Bloomfield
Anne-Marie Watson
Emily Jennings
35 Squadron
bale out
C-47
Dulag Luft
Lancaster
military living conditions
Operation Exodus (1945)
prisoner of war
RAF Cosford
RAF Graveley
shot down
the long march
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/892/26017/LHuttonGR1586017v1.2.pdf
7424f2584be4289534e54d097dbb6ce8
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Hutton, George
G Hutton
Description
An account of the resource
35 items. An oral history interview with George Hutton (b. 1921, 1586014 Royal Air Force), his log book, photographs and documents. He flew operations as a mid upper gunner in 199 and 514 squadrons. The collection also contains an album of photographs of George Hutton's service and telegrams about his wedding.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by George Hutton and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-05-26
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
Hutton, GR
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
George Hutton’s navigator’s, air bomber’s and air gunner’s flying log book
Description
An account of the resource
G.R. Hutton’s Navigator’s, Air Bomber’s and Air Gunner’s Flying Log Book, from 19th May 1943 to 24th August 1945, detailing training, operations and instructional duties as an Air Gunner. He was stationed at RAF Pembrey (1 AGS), RAF Waterbeach (1651 HCU and 514 Squadron), RAF Lakenheath (199 Squadron), RAF Andreas (11 AGS), RAF Fersfield (2 Group Support Unit) and Melsbroek and Achmer air bases (180 squadron). Aircraft in which flown: Blenheim, Wellington III, Wellington X, Stirling, Lancaster II, Martinet, Anson, Mitchell II and Mitchell III.
He completed his first tour of duties with 199 and 514 squadrons, a total of 30 night operations (plus three ‘boomeranged’), on the following targets in Belgium, France, Italy and Germany: Aachen, Angers, Berlin, Bordeaux (mining), Brunswick, Cape Griz Nez, Cologne, Courtrai, Essen, Fougeres, Frankfurt, Friedrichshafen, Hanover, Kassel, Laon, Leipzig, Modane, Mont Lucon, Nantes, Nuremburg, Ouistrehan (near Caen), Paris, Rouen, Schweinfurt, Stuttgart, Trappes and Turin.
On 6 June 1944 he noted “PASSENGER - BRITISH WAR CORRESPONDANT”.
He completed a second tour of 10 daytime operations with 180 squadron on the following targets in France, Netherlands and Germany: Arnhem, Cloppenburg, Dunkirk, Lubeck, Oldenburg, Sogel, Soltau and Voorst. His pilots on operations were Flight Lieutenant Waterfield, Flight Sergeant Ashpitel, Pilot Officer Woods, Pilot Officer Crombie, Pilot Officer Duncliff, Warrant Officer McGowan and Flight Lieutenant Barlow.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
David Leitch
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
One booklet
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Log book and record book
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
LHuttonGR1586017v1
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.
Belgium
France
Germany
Great Britain
Italy
Netherlands
Atlantic Ocean--Bay of Biscay
Atlantic Ocean--English Channel
England--Cambridgeshire
England--Norfolk
England--Suffolk
Wales--Carmarthenshire
Germany--Lower Saxony
Great Britain Miscellaneous Island Dependencies--Isle of Man
Italy--Po River Valley
Belgium--Brussels
Belgium--Kortrijk
France--Angers
France--Bordeaux (Nouvelle-Aquitaine)
France--Caen
France--Opale Coast
France--Dunkerque
France--Fougères (Ille-et-Vilaine)
France--Laon
France--Modane
France--Montluçon
France--Nantes
France--Paris
France--Rouen
France--Yvelines
Germany--Aachen
Germany--Berlin
Germany--Braunschweig
Germany--Cloppenburg
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Essen
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Friedrichshafen
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Kassel
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Lübeck
Germany--Nuremberg
Germany--Oldenburg
Germany--Schweinfurt
Germany--Sögel
Germany--Soltau
Germany--Stuttgart
Italy--Turin
Netherlands--Arnhem
Netherlands--Voorst
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1943
1944
1945
1943-08-01
1943-08-02
1943-08-10
1943-08-11
1943-08-12
1943-08-13
1943-08-16
1943-08-17
1943-08-23
1943-08-24
1943-08-27
1943-08-28
1943-09-15
1943-09-16
1943-09-17
1943-09-27
1943-09-28
1943-10-03
1943-10-04
1943-10-05
1943-12-16
1943-12-17
1943-12-24
1943-12-25
1944-01-14
1944-02-19
1944-02-24
1944-02-25
1944-03-01
1944-03-02
1944-03-26
1944-03-27
1944-03-30
1944-03-31
1944-04-11
1944-04-12
1944-04-18
1944-04-19
1944-04-20
1944-04-21
1944-04-23
1944-04-24
1944-05-07
1944-05-08
1944-05-10
1944-05-11
1944-05-28
1944-05-29
1944-05-30
1944-06-04
1944-06-08
1944-06-09
1945-04-03
1945-04-08
1945-04-10
1945-04-11
1945-04-12
1945-04-17
1945-04-19
1945-04-21
1945-05-01
1945-06-04
1651 HCU
180 Squadron
199 Squadron
514 Squadron
air gunner
Air Gunnery School
aircrew
Anson
B-25
bale out
Blenheim
bombing
bombing of Nuremberg (30 / 31 March 1944)
bombing of the Normandy coastal batteries (5/6 June 1944)
Cook’s tour
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster
Lancaster Mk 2
Martinet
mine laying
Normandy campaign (6 June – 21 August 1944)
propaganda
RAF Andreas
RAF Lakenheath
RAF Pembrey
RAF Waterbeach
Stirling
training
Wellington
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2341/43830/LDennettGJ1195401v1.2.pdf
ab2b1da4bf4c20f05ab2fedcb85620e6
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
Dennett, Gordon John
Description
An account of the resource
Nine items. The collection concerns Gordon John Dennett (1195401 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book and photographs. He flew operations as an air gunner with 196 Squadron and 355 Squadron in the Far East.
The collection was loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Kate Smart and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018-04-17
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. 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
Dennett, GJ
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
Gordon Dennett's observer's and air gunner's flying log book
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
LDennettGJ1195401v1
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Great Britain. Royal Air Force
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
Conforms To
An established standard to which the described resource conforms.
Pending review
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
David Leitch
Description
An account of the resource
G. Dennett’s RAF Observer’s and Air Gunner’s Flying Log Book from 14/5/42 to 17/3/46, detailing training, operations and instructional duties as a Wireless Operator, Air Bomber, Air Gunner and Radar Operator. Based at: RAF Yatesbury (No. 2 Signals School), RAF Evanton (No. 8 Air Gunnery School), RAF Harwell and RAF Hamstead Norris (No. 15 OTU), RAF Leconfield (196 Squadron), RAF Driffield (No.1484 Bombing and Gunnery Flight), RAF Salbani (355 squadron), RAF Digri and RAF Raipur (1341 Special Duty Flight, 298 Squadron), RAF Baroda (1334 TSCU). Aircraft flown: Dominie, Proctor, Botha, Wellington, Anson, Oxford, Liberator, Halifax, Dakota.
Records a total of 25 night operations (plus one with Duties Not Carried Out) with 196 Squadron. Targets in Germany, France and the Netherlands are: Bochum, Brest (minelaying), Cologne, Dortmund, Duisberg, Dusseldorf, Essen, Frankfurt, Frisians (minelaying), Gelsenkirchen, Heligoland Bight (minelaying), Kiel, Krefeld, Lorient (minelaying), Manheim, Mulheim, St Nazaire, Wuppertal.
Pilots on operations with 196 Squadron were W/O Ritchie and Sgt Sneddon.
Also records 33 operations (23 Night, 10 day, 5 with Duties Not Carried Out) with 355 Squadron against Japanese forces during the Burma campaign 1944-5. Targets in Burma, Thailand and Vietnam include:
Akyab, Amarapura, Andaman Islands, Bangkok, Hanoi, Jumbhorn, Khorat, Kyaukse, Kyetsha, Madaya, Mahlaing, Mandalay, Martaban Point, Martaban, Maymyo, Mokpalin railway yards, Monywa, Myingyan, Myittha, Na Nien, Ramree Island, Rangoon, Tiddim-Impall Road, Yenangyaung, Ywataung.
Pilots on operations with 355 Squadron were Squadron Leader MacDougall, Flight Lieutenant Giles, Flight Lieutenant Jackson, Flight Lieutenant Scott, Squadron Leader Falconer, Pilot Officer Dean, Warrant Officer Campbell, Flight Sergeant Turner, Warrant Officer Long and Warrant Officer Painter.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Burma
France
Germany
Great Britain
India
Netherlands
Pakistan
Thailand
Vietnam
Atlantic Ocean--Bay of Biscay
Atlantic Ocean--North Sea
England--Berkshire
England--Wiltshire
England--Yorkshire
Scotland--Ross and Cromarty
Atlantic Ocean--Helgoland Bight
Burma--Akyab (District)
Burma--Amarapura
Burma--Kyaikto
Burma--Kyaukse (District)
Burma--Kyaukse (Township)
Burma--Magwe Division
Burma--Mandalay
Burma--Mandalay (Division)
Burma--Maymyo
Burma--Monywa
Burma--Moulmein
Burma--Myingyan (District)
Burma--Rakhine State
Burma--Rangoon
Burma--Tiddim
Burma--Yenangyaung
France--Brest
France--Lorient
France--Saint-Nazaire
Germany--Bochum
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Essen
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Gelsenkirchen
Germany--Kiel
Germany--Krefeld
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Mülheim an der Ruhr
Germany--Wuppertal
India--Andaman Islands
India--Imphāl
India--Raipur
India--Vadodara
Netherlands--Friesland
Pakistan--Digri
Thailand--Bangkok
Thailand--Chumphon
Thailand--Khorat Plateau
Vietnam--Hanoi
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943-02-25
1943-02-26
1943-03-01
1943-03-05
1943-03-06
1943-03-09
1943-03-12
1943-03-13
1943-03-26
1943-03-27
1943-03-28
1943-03-29
1943-03-30
1943-04-04
1943-04-05
1943-04-10
1943-04-11
1943-04-16
1943-04-17
1943-05-04
1943-05-05
1943-05-16
1943-05-17
1943-05-23
1943-05-24
1943-05-25
1943-05-26
1943-05-27
1943-05-28
1943-05-29
1943-05-30
1943-06-02
1943-06-03
1943-06-21
1943-06-22
1943-06-23
1943-06-24
1943-06-25
1943-06-26
1943-06-28
1943-06-29
1943-07-02
1943-07-03
1943-07-04
1944-03-29
1944-03-30
1944-04-08
1944-04-09
1944-04-23
1944-04-24
1944-05-01
1944-05-02
1944-05-07
1944-05-08
1944-05-29
1944-06-01
1944-06-07
1944-06-12
1944-06-30
1944-08-02
1944-08-03
1944-09-11
1944-09-16
1944-09-19
1944-10-29
1944-10-30
1944-11-08
1944-11-19
1945-01-21
1945-01-25
1945-01-31
1945-02-03
1945-02-05
1945-02-11
1945-02-15
1945-02-18
1945-02-21
1945-02-23
1945-02-24
1945-02-28
1945-03-04
1945-03-05
1945-03-07
1945-03-09
1945-03-19
1945-08-02
1946
15 OTU
196 Squadron
298 Squadron
air gunner
Air Gunnery School
aircrew
B-24
bale out
bomb aimer
Botha
C-47
Dominie
Halifax
Halifax Mk 3
Halifax Mk 7
mine laying
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
Proctor
RAF Driffield
RAF Evanton
RAF Hampstead Norris
RAF Harwell
RAF Leconfield
RAF Yatesbury
Sunderland
Tiger Moth
training
Wellington
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1400/27143/SJonesHB1866363v10046.1.pdf
f819a48ae9c636456c8e85f2b51cca9e
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
Jones, Hugh Brenton
H B Jones
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-01-11
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
Jones, HB
Description
An account of the resource
17 items. The collection concerns Flight Sergeant Hugh Brenton Jones (1925 - 1944, 1866363 Royal Air Force) and contains documents and photographs. He flew operations as an air gunner with 51 Squadron and was killed 18 December 1944. <br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Rea Camus and catalogued by Barry Hunter. <br /><br />Additional information on Hugh Brenton Jones is available via the <a href="https://losses.internationalbcc.co.uk/loss/214965/">IBCC Losses Database.</a>
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[inserted] EVIDENCE OF COLLISION [/inserted]
[underlined] HALIFAX 111 NP934 [/underlined]
[underlined] AIR27/493 [/underlined] No. 51 SQUADRON ORBs January-December 1944
Halifax 111 NP934MH-V (F/O D N Twilley) took off from Snaith at 02.58 to attack the primary target. Nothing has been heard of this aircraft since the time of taking off and it is reporteed [sic] missing.
F/O B M Twilley Reported missing from operations.
[underlined] NOTE:- [/underlined] Information received from 2nd TAF. via H.Q.B.C. the effect that this aircraft was found in a woods at position 0.5099 South of Charlerot (sic). Two persons identified (F/O Twilley and E/O Cassini). The crew of eight killed.
[underlined] CONCLUSION from the above information
4 GROUP [/underlined]
1. Halifax 111 LV818 F (F/L G W Body) 10 Squadron
This aircraft was not heard of since taking off. Is this the aircrew lost in the battle area by unknown cause?
2. Halifax 111 NP934 MH-V (F/O B M Twilley) 51 Squadron
This aircraft found in woods South of Charlerot (sic). This is therefore one of the aircraft lost in Belgium by unknown cause.
3. Halifax 111 NR248 is not recorded in 51 Squadron’s ORBs
Halifax 111 NA294 MH-A (W/O W A Bates) 51 Squadron
This aircraft was seen to dive at full throttle and blow up in mid air at position E8923 (east of Koblenz – what was it doing this far east?). Is this the aircraft outstanding?
4. Halifax 111 NR239 J (F/O W L Lynd) 158 Squadron
This aircraft made a crash landing near Brussels. This is therefore the unknown Halifax from 158 Squadron and the other aircraft lost Belgium by unknown cause.
One therefore needs to try and find out more information on the following aircraft:-
Halifax 111 LV818-F and Halifax 111 NA294 MH-A
Are these the aircraft that are recorded as outstanding and lost in the battle area?
Is the aircraft from 578 Squadron that crashed AOT the same as that wrecked in a taxying accident?
What has happened to the aircraft outstanding?
[page break]
[underlined] HALIFAX 11 NR118 U [/underlined]
[underlined] AIR27/1865 [/underlined] No. 434 Squadron ORBs with Appendices June 1943-June 1945
On return all aircraft were diverted due to weather conditions at base (Croft). All aircraft returned safely to base later on in the afternoon with the exception of aircraft “U” NR118 with pilot Can. J21853 F/L J M Parrott who became airborne at 02.50 hrs and has sin [sic] not been heard from.
Halifax “U” NR118 (F/L Parrott) took off from Croft at 02.50 since then nothing has been heard from it.
[underlined] AIR28/176 [/underlined] Stations: Croft ORBs August 1943-June 1945
“X” of 434 Squadron claim one ME 109 shot down and destroyed.
We regret to report the following aircraft missing “U” of 434 Squadron.
[underlined] AIR14/3470 [/underlined] Bomber Command Aircraft Losses K Reports No. 6 Group Nos 1-1[missing number] December 1944-March 1945
Report No. 6G/h Report on Aircrew landing on allied occupied Territory
Squadron: 434 Station: Croft
Aircraft: Halifax 111 (sic) NR 118 U
This report is based on the story of the sole survivor (P/O Herbert Browne (RCAF) No. J90827) of the crash who is still very shaken and nervous as a result of his experience. His recolloction [sic] of events, times and places is not very clear and there may be some inaccuracies.
Shortly after having set course and while flying down England at 8[missing numbers] feet the pilot (F/Lt J Parrott) remarked that he wasn’t feeling well but was well enough to carry on. The aircraft climbed over the channel to the briefed hight [sic] of 17,000 feet. The crew kept asking [missing word] pilot if he was alright. He claimed he was but the crew noticed the aircraft was weaving as though he was unable to hold it steady. The air bomber (F/S A Kurtzhals) left his position and set [sic] beside the pilot so he could help him if necessary.
The aircraft was still weaving but they carried on and according to the Navigator (F/O S Pearce) were only three minutes late.
Weather was clear, visibility good, no ground defences and no enemy fighters were seen.
The Wireless Operator (P/O H Browne) went off the intercom, in order to listern [sic] in on the Group Broadcast (6.30 hrs (by this time they should have been over Duisburg)). Suddenly the Navigator jumped to his feet and folded his seat back, the wireless operator immediately took off his helmet and reached for his parachute, and at almost the same time the aircraft noised [sic] straight up and then fell over on one wing. Browne does not know why Pearce left his seat or why the aircraft nosed vertically up. Browne remembers no more from this point until he recovered consciousness falling free through the air. After pulling the ripcord he lost consciousness again. He recovered consciousness hanging from his parachute in a tree. It was still dark. After walking some time he came to a quarry, and finding himself in Belgium he was taken to a small town. Browne was then taken to Charleroi which was a long drive from the small town.
[page break]
[underlined] REPORT ON AIRCREW LANDING IN ALLIED OCCUPIED TERRITORY. [/underlined]
Squadron – 434 Station – Croft (64 Base)
Letter – U A/C No. – NR118
Type – Halifax
Mark – III
Date – 17/18th December 1944
Target – Duisburg
Pilot – Parrott, J. F/Lt J.21253 4 Ops. Killed in crash.
Nav. – Pearce, S. F/O J.27503 4 Ops. Killed in crash.
W/Op. – Browne, H. P/O J.90827 10 Ops. Injured. Now in U.K.
F/Eng. – Janzen, L. Sgt R.98704 4 Ops. Killed in crash.
A/B. – Kurtzhals, A. F/S R.110453 4 Ops. Killed in crash.
M/U/G. – Divitcoff, A. F/S R.209473 4 Ops. Killed in crash.
R/G. – Olafson, G. F/S R.192540 4 Ops. Killed in crash.
[underlined] Interrogator’s Comments [/underlined]
This report is based on the story of the sole survivor of the crash who is still very shakon [sic] and nervous as a result of his experiences. His recolloction [sic] of events, times and places is not very clear and there may be some inaccuracies.
[underlined] Surname [/underlined] – Browne [underlined] Number [/underlined] – J.90827
[underlined] Christian Names [/underlined] – Herbert [underlined] Nationality [/underlined] – Canadian
R.A.F. (R.C.A.F.)
Shortly after having sot [sic] course and while flying down England at 8000 feet the Pilot remarked that he wasn’t feeling well, but was well enough to carry on.
The aircraft climbed over the channel to the briefed height of 17,000 foot [sic] and the crew kept asking the Pilot if he was alright. He claimed he was but the crew noticed the aircraft was weaving as though he was unable to hold it steady.
They thought he might be short of oxygon [sic] but a careful check of the oxygen system failed to support this theory. As an added check the Pilot used the oxygen bottles but no improvement could be noted so the A/B left his position and sat beside the Pilot so he could help him, if necessary.
Although the Pilot claimed he wasn’t feeling too badly, the Navigator suggested to him that they should turn back. This the Pilot refused to do and when the Navigator repeated his suggestion the Pilot refused again saying that if he did he would be sent to Sheffield.
The aircraft was still weaving but they carried on and according to the Navigator, were only three minutes late.
Weather was clear, visibility good, no ground defences and no enemy fighters were seen.
At this time the W/Op went off the intercom, in order to listen in on the Group Broadcast (0630 hrs). He was nervous and worried, so kept watching the Navigator who was naturally still on the intercom.
Suddenly the Navigator jumped to his feet and folded his seat back, the W/Op immediately took off his helmet and reached for his parachute, and at almost the same time the aircraft nosod [sic] straight up and then fell over on one wing (not definite whether to port or starboard.) The W/Op states he does not know why the Navigator left his seat or why the aircraft nosed vertically up. Not being on the intercom, he couldn’t hear anything that might have been said, and so, just reacted automatically when the Navigator moved.
The W/Op remembers no more from this point until he recovered consciousness falling free through the air. His head was cut and bleeding and his ‘chute was only clipped on one side. He completed hooking it up, pulled the ripcord and lost consciousness again.
He recovered consciousness again hanging from his parachute in a tree. He somehow got out of his harness and down the tree, losing consciousness again on the ground.
[page break]
[underlined] 2. [/underlined]
When he recovered consciousness this time, it was still dark, so waiting until it became light, he started to hunt for help. His head was covered with blood, trousers badly torn and both boots had evidently come off when his ‘chute opened.
After walking some time he came to a stone or sand quarry, and finding a workman, was able to ask for help, using his phrase card.
From here on things were very hazy, but he dimly recalls being taken into an office, finding out he was in Belgium, that the Belgian police arrived first and later a Doctor who took him into a small town and treated his injuries.
Later the American Military Police arrived and took him to Charleroi in an ambulance. He has no idea where this small town is except that it was a long drive from there to Charleroi.
The next morning an American Army Officer came in to see him. He stated they had found the crashed aircraft and there were six bodies in it. Five were identified by various means but they were unable to identify the sixth. The W/Op asked the names of those identified and then supplied the name of the sixth member of the crew, the M/U/G, F/Sgt. A. Divitcoff.
After a time in different hospitals, Charleroi (one week), Rheims (one week), 170th General Hospital, Le Mans (very doubtful as to the location of this hospital) he was sent to Paris (66 No. Rue du Fauberg, St. Honore) and finally back to England.
[signature]
(M.G. Elloker) Squadron Leader,
Base Intelligence Officer,
No. 64 (R.C.A.F.) Base,
[underlined] ROYAL AIR FORCE. [/underlined]
[page break]
[underlined] AN ENQUIRY INTO THE CRASH OF HALIFAX III NP934 OF 51 SQUADRON ON 18 DECEMBER 1944. [/underlined]
Squadron identification letters of 51 Sqdn. were MH and this particular aircraft’s letter was V, hence MH-V.
Crew – F/O B.M. Twilley (pilot)
Sgt. R. Holden (navigator)
F/O F.W. Cassini (bomb-aimer)
F/Sgt. R. Hall (wireless operator)
Sgt. R.C. Challinor (flight engineer)
F/Sgt. H.B. Jones (air gunner
W/O H.W.J. Hildebrand (air gunner)
This crew was on its 20th operation. On this occasion the aircraft was carrying F/O E.H. Baron, a new pilot on the squadron who was there for experience before operating with his own crew. The target was DUISBURG. Two aircraft from 51 Sqdn. were lost that night. I was the only survivor of the other aircraft, MH-A, and I undertook this enquiry on behalf of Mrs. R. CAMUS, the sister of F/Sgt. Jones, who was only 4 at the time of her brother’s death. My own aircraft was attacked and set on fire by a Junkers 88 flown by Leutnant [sic] Walcher soon after the bombs had been dropped on Duisburg.
MH-V took off from Snaith at 0258, and I see from my own diary that MH-A took off at 0300, so we were next off after F/O Twilley.
On an earlier raid on ESSEN the bomb-load consisted of one 2000 pound high-explosive bomb and 12 SBC’s (Small bomb Containers) each containing 90 4 pound incendiary bombs, and the load on this occasion was probably much the same.
The route to the target was Base-Reading-Brighton – across the Channel to France and Belgium – then NE. towards Duisburg. The Bombe [sic] – Command report of this operation states that 523 aircraft were despatched and 8 were lost. Amongst details given it states that “two collided and crashed over Charleroi.”
Information that I have gathered from various sources leads me to believe that the two aircraft were MH-V from Snaith
[page break]
and NR118 from 434 Squadron at Croft. There was one survivor from NR118, P/O H. Browne, the wireless operator, who came down by parachute into territory held by British forces. His de-briefing report should be studied, as it gives a good idea of what actually happened
The crash occurred at 0610 on 18 December, and as the time on target was about 0600 it would appear that both aircraft had bombed and were on their way home.
As you see from the report, the pilot of NR118, Flt. Lt. Parrett [sic] was in some distress, having complained early in the flight of feeling unwell, which caused much worry to the rest of the crew, and they were understandably nervous. It seems to me that either Flt. Lt. Parrett [sic] had a sudden attack of whatever was troubling him, possible appendicitis, or his nerve gave way under stress, and he was barely in control of the aircraft. Seeing another Halifax on a collision course, he pulled up [deleted] [indecipherable letter] [/deleted] sharply stalled, fell over onto one wing, and plunged down. A consideration of the facts that I have gathered leads me to say that this is the only likely explanation of the incident. I cannot see how the wireless-operator was the only one to get free – the navigator would have been the first to go (which is why I was the only one to get out of our aircraft), then the bomb-aimer then the wireless-operator third.
The details concerning F/O Twilley’s crew came to me by courtesy of Eddy Daivier, whose letter is enclosed, as the aircraft concerned crashed in the vicinity of where he lives.
Henry Wagner
[page break]
[underlined] FINDINGS FROM LOST AIRCRAFT ON THE DUISBURG TARGET ON 17/18 DECEMBER 1[missing numbers] [/underlined]
[underlined] AIR14/2791 BOMBER COMMAND and AIRCRAFT LOSSES K REPORTS MISSING AIRCRAFT RERISTER [sic] 1943-1945
Records 4 missing aircraft from 4 Group
5 missing aircraft from 6 Gtoup [sic]
Namely
4 GROUP
10 Sqn. Halifax 111 LV818
[inserted] X [/inserted] 51 Sqn. Halifax 111 NP934
51 Sqn. Halifax 111 NR248
158 Sqn. Halifax
6 GROUP
424 Sqn.
426 Sqn. Halifax V11 LW209
432 Sqn. Halifax V11 NP699 O
432 Sqn. Halifax V11 NP701 G
434 Sqn. Halifax 11 NR118 U
These are borne out in the following records:-
[underlined] AIR14/3457 [/underlined] BOMBER COMMAND REPORTS ON OPERATIONAL SORTIES
September-December 1944
4 Group (1/10, 2/51, 1/158)
6 Group (1/424, 1/426, 2/432, 1/434)
[underlined] AIR25/94 [/underlined] GROUPS: No. 4 BOMBER GROUP ORBs January-December 1944
8 aircraft failed to start
14 aircraft Abortive not over enemy territory
1/10, 1/51 Missing (A/P G)
1/51, 1/578 Crashed AOT (A/P H, A/P G)
1 aircraft Outstanding (A/P/H)
[underlined] AIR24/303 [/underlined] COMMANDS: BOMBER COMMAND INTELLIGENCE REPORTS ON OPERATIONS
APPENDICES December 1944
Records 9 losses and goes on to say 3 aircraft are missing.
[underlined] Aircraft Destroyed [/underlined] 3 were lost only 2 of these losses were observed. I was caused by fighter over the Ruhr and another by target flak. But 6 other aircraft were wrecked beyond repair. 2 collided and crashed over CHARLEROI. 2 crashed in Belgium and a third in the battle area, and one was wrecked in a taxying accident. This force was heavily engaged by fighters. They were intercepted over the target after the first 10 minutes of their rather prolonged attack and were effectively attacked on the NW leg out of the Rhur at least 5 Gruppen of fighters were up against them. However, only 9 aircraft were lost with another 1 wrecked beyond repair. No returning aircraft was seriously damaged by enemy action on this night.
[underlined] A Chart shows [/underlined]
4 Group missing 1 + 3”
6 Group Missing 1 + = 1 + 2
Key: “ = 1 a/c Battle area Unknown cause
2 a/c Belgium Unknown cause
= = 1 a/c near Rheims Collision
1 a/c Charleroi Collision
This is borne out by the following records:-
[page break]
[underlined] The crash of Halifax H C U ZK-EB 205 (Zulu king) 15th April 1944 [underlined]
S H J Pearce survives plane crash 15th April 1944, five aircrew killed plus three civilians. House demolished. (archive picture) and archive documents of the crash.
John Tynski (survivor) gives his fascinating account of the accident. See Letter. (Tynski now lives in Nova Scotia Canada. (archive pictures of John Tynski at Dishforth Yorkshire) +enlistment photos of the other crew members.
Tynski and Pearce taken to the military hospital North Allerton Yorkshire, (archive documents gives a full account of the injuries.)
Henry Powell (English) flight engineer taken to his home town of Balham/Streatham where he is now buried.
Canadian crew buried at the Stone fall cemetery Harrogate (archive photograph)
Civilians, Mr and Mrs Stone taken to Thirsk mortuary. (listed on website for civilians killed during the war).
Mr McNulty (Irish farm labourer) also killed when he happened to be passing after a night out down the local pub.
Engines from the bomber blocks LNER railway line, causing long delays.
[underlined] S H J Pearce killed 18th December, 1944 [/underlined]
After recovering from his injuries Harry Pearce reports for duty with the 434 Bluenose Squadron Croft, Yorkshire.
Pearce teams up with his new crew (archive photograph crew in front of Halifax, “Pubwash” Missions included [underlined] Julich [/underlined] 16/11/44 [underlined] Munster [/underlined] 18/11/44 [underlined] Castrop Rauxel [/underlined] 21/11/44 [underlined] Neuss [/underlined] 2711/44. [sic] (archive documents of those missions)
Final Mission, Duisberg 18th December 1944. Combined forces of 523 aircraft.
T/O Croft Yorkshire 02.50 crashed Pesche, Belgium at approx 6.15 am (one survivor Herbert Brown Wireless operator) See statement
American army denies any knowledge of other crashed aircraft (see Brown’s statement).
Bodies taken to “Les Fosses” buried at approx 4 pm the same day. (archive documents)
Bodies re-interred to Leopoldsburg Commonwealth cemetery Belgium 1947.
Herbert Brown survivor gives his statement of events. (archive document)
Air Ministry asked to supply information to the cause of the crash, by concerned relative (archive document)
Air Ministry responds with a watered down version of event’s [sic] (archive documents)
Air Ministry holds back vital information as to the cause of the crash.
Four aircraft of 434 432 10 & 51 squadrons have crashed in unexplained circumstances. 28 men killed.
One of those killed only 18 years old. [inserted] X [/inserted]
Of those bodies recovered, they were also re-interred to the Leopoldburg Commonwealth cemetery Belgium, where they all occupy a corner of the cemetery including Harry Pearce’s crew.
All aircraft crashed over allied territory, with no reports of engagement either from the ground or enemy aircraft.
Civilian, French, (old lady) blown out of bed by the explosion, suffers a heart attack and dies when she discovers the severed hand of an airman on the floor that was blown through the window (archive document)
Body of Douglas Mole, (10 sqdrn) Found 1948 after being discovered in woodland. His son David only one week old in when his father was killed. (archive Document)
David Mole now lives Darlington County Durham with his wife Ann.
Max Krakovsky pilot (432 sqdrn) survives. Changes his name to Carson after the war.
[page break]
Remains of airman found beside engine when dug-up 1953 (thought to be those of Zadorozny 432 sqdrn (archive photograph of zadorozny
Jean Bodart (witness) describes the scene of devastation at the crash site. Bombs strewn around, the body of one of the aircrew laying in road, engines almost buried. (letter written July 2003)
Engines, still lay buried at the crash site today.
All relatives of the crew traced,
Memorial took place 8th May 2003, in attendance relatives of the pilot and air gunners sister.
Pearce’s brother to visit crash site in 2004 with the possibility of Harry Pearce’s daughter (1 year old in 1944).
Wreckage of the aircraft collected 2003 from the crash site. Including live ammunition
Aircraft crashed three kilometres from the historic site of Adolf Hitlers headquarters at Bruly .de Pesche.
[underlined] interesting facts about 434 bluenose Squadron [/underlined]
434 Squadron bluenose was formed in Halifax Nova Scotia, many of its recruits came from a seafaring background.
Squadron was named after the famous “Bluenose schooner” as depicted on Canadian 10 cent coin. Its name originated a as a [sic] derogatory term used to describe Nova Scotian’s as Bluenose. for the colour of their noses, due to the cold Canadian winters.
Propellor spinners painted bright blue as a personal mark of the bluenose Squadron, this was to the annoyance of the Air Ministry who referred to them as those upstart colonials.
Lord Haw-Haw a German propagandists and traitor, said of the Bluenose Squadron, after a particularly successful raid:
“The RCAF had gathered together in this single squadron- the Bluenose- the worst pirates, thugs, murderers and brigands from the prisons of Canada
Lord Haw Haw was hanged for treason after the war.
The 434 Squadron suffered particularly heavy losses during the war, the numbers 13 seemed to play a part in their bad luck. 434, the 13th Squadron formed, when the first man reported for duty on the 13th day.
Harry Pearce and crew documented in Alan Todds book “Pilgrimages of grace” as the last Halifax loss from “Croft” of WW2.
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Title
A name given to the resource
Halifax III - Evidence of Collision
Description
An account of the resource
A report on what happened to Halifax NP934. Information collated from operational record books, RAF reports, Herbert Browne's report (sole survivor of NR118 crash), Henry Wagner's report, analysis of the losses on the night of 17/18 December and SHJ Pearce's accidents on 15 April 1944 and 18 December 1944.
Format
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Seven printed and two handwritten sheets
Language
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eng
Type
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Text
Text. Memoir
Text. Personal research
Identifier
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SJonesHB1866363v10046, SJonesHB1866363v10047, SJonesHB1866363v10048, SJonesHB1866363v10049, SJonesHB1866363v10050, SJonesHB1866363v10051, SJonesHB1866363v10052, SJonesHB1866363v10055, SJonesHB1866363v10056
Coverage
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Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Royal Canadian Air Force
Spatial Coverage
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Belgium--Charleroi
Germany--Koblenz
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Essen
Germany--Jülich
Germany--Castrop-Rauxel
Germany--Neuss
Belgium--Leopoldsburg
Germany--Münster in Westfalen
Germany
Belgium
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Temporal Coverage
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1944-12-18
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
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Tricia Marshall
10 Squadron
158 Squadron
4 Group
424 Squadron
426 Squadron
432 Squadron
434 Squadron
51 Squadron
578 Squadron
6 Group
aircrew
bale out
bomb aimer
crash
flight engineer
Halifax
Halifax Mk 3
Ju 88
killed in action
Me 109
mid-air collision
navigator
pilot
RAF Croft
RAF Snaith
wireless operator
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/167/2218/MAllenDJ1880966-150702-280001.1.jpg
16833c96c2e3ca82c5b795523780685e
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/167/2218/MAllenDJ1880966-150702-280002.1.jpg
0ced48610f6897514cd8f115f6406fe0
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Title
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Allen, Derrick
Derrick Allen
D J Allen
Description
An account of the resource
75 items. The collection covers the career of Flight Sergeant Derrick John Allen (1880966 Royal Air Force) who was a mid-upper gunner on 467 Royal Australian Air Force Squadron at RAF Waddington in 1944-45. Collection contains his logbook, Royal Air Force documentation, notes on air gunners course and photographs of various aircrew. Collection also contains maps and photographs covering the loss of his Lancaster near Spa in Belgium from which he successfully bailed out on 2 November 1944. There is also an oral history interview with his family.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Judy Hodgson and catalogued by Nigel Huckins.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2015-08-30
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. 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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Allen, DJ
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Permission granted for commercial projects
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Title
A name given to the resource
Hand drawn maps of crash site
Description
An account of the resource
The first map shows the area of Vieux-Pre near Spa in Belgium and shows the locations of the main crash site, victim bodies, debris and supposed area of parachuter [sic]. The second map shows profile of supposed area of fall.
Format
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Two hand drawn maps
Language
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eng
Type
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Map
Text. Personal research
Text
Identifier
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MAllenDJ1880966-150702-28
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 Australian Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
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Belgium
Belgium--Spa
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-11-02
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
bale out
crash
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/934/36457/BLovattPHastieRv2.1.pdf
295406378e70aa4d2aeb43baeaddc085
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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Lovatt, Peter
Dr Peter Lovatt
P Lovatt
Description
An account of the resource
117 items. An oral history interview with Peter Lovatt (b.1924, 1821369 Royal Air Force), his log book, documents, and photographs. The collection also contains two photograph albums. He flew 42 operations as an air gunner on 223 Squadron flying B-24s. <br /><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/1338">Album One</a><br /><a href="https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/show/2135">Album Two</a><br /><br />The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Nina and Peter Lovatt and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-09-27
2019-09-03
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.
Identifier
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Lovatt, P
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
Hastie DFC: The Life and Times of a Wartime Pilot
Description
An account of the resource
A biography of Roy Hastie.
Creator
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Peter Lovatt
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2003-10
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
United States
Rhode Island--Quonset Point Naval Air Station
Bahamas--Nassau
New York (State)--New York
Bahamas--New Providence Island
Great Britain
England--Harrogate
Scotland--Perth
Scotland--Glasgow
England--Warrington
England--Blackpool
Luxembourg
France
Belgium
Netherlands
France--Dunkerque
England--Dover
England--Grantham
England--Torquay
Wales--Aberystwyth
Iceland
Greenland
Sierra Leone
Russia (Federation)--Murmansk
Singapore
France--Saint-Malo
Denmark
Sweden
Germany--Lübeck
Netherlands--Ameland Island
England--Grimsby
Germany--Helgoland
Netherlands--Rotterdam
Atlantic Ocean--Bay of Biscay
England--Lundy Island
Germany--Cologne
North Carolina
North Carolina--Cape Hatteras
Aruba
Curaçao
Iceland--Reykjavík
Greenland--Narsarssuak
Canada
Québec--Montréal
Rhode Island
New York (State)--Buffalo
Gulf of Mexico
Caribbean Sea
Virginia
Florida--Miami
Cuba--Guantánamo Bay Naval Base
Puerto Rico--San Juan
Cuba
Florida--West Palm Beach
Cuba--Caimanera
India
Sierra Leone--Freetown
Jamaica
Jamaica--Kingston
Jamaica--Montego Bay
Virginia--Norfolk
Washington (D.C.)
Newfoundland and Labrador
Northern Ireland--Limavady
England--Chatham (Kent)
Newfoundland and Labrador--Gander
Gibraltar
England--Leicester
Massachusetts--Boston
Egypt--Alamayn
Algeria--Algiers
Algeria--Oran
Algeria--Bejaïa
Algeria--Annaba
Italy--Sicily
England--Milton Keynes
Germany--Essen
England--Dunwich
Europe--Scheldt River
England--Sizewell
Germany--Hamburg
England--Kent
Germany--Stuttgart
England--Crowborough
Netherlands--Hague
England--Peterborough
England--Bristol
Germany--Homburg (Saarland)
Belgium--Brussels
Germany--Bochum
Germany--Dortmund-Ems Canal
Germany--Wanne-Eickel
Belgium--Liège
Germany--Frankfurt am Main
Germany--Hannover
Germany--Aschaffenburg
Germany--Castrop-Rauxel
Germany--Mittelland Canal
Germany--Aachen
Germany--Karlsruhe
Germany--Neuss
Germany--Nuremberg
Germany--Duisburg
Germany--Hagen (Arnsberg)
Germany--Leuna
Germany--Osnabrück
Germany--Ludwigshafen am Rhein
Germany--Ulm
Germany--Munich
Poland--Szczecin
France--Ardennes
Germany--Bonn
Belgium--Houffalize
Germany--Mannheim
Germany--Grevenbroich
Germany--Dülmen
France--Metz
Germany--Magdeburg
Germany--Zeitz
Germany--Gelsenkirchen
England--Dungeness
Germany--Mainz (Rhineland-Palatinate)
Germany--Wiesbaden
Germany--Dresden
Germany--Leipzig
Germany--Koblenz
Germany--Chemnitz
Germany--Dortmund
Germany--Düsseldorf
Germany--Münster in Westfalen
Germany--Worms
Germany--Pforzheim
Germany--Darmstadt
Europe--Lake Constance
Germany--Bergkamen
Germany--Dessau (Dessau)
Germany--Wesel (North Rhine-Westphalia)
France--Aube
Germany--Augsburg
England--Feltwell
England--Croydon
Norway--Oslo
Sweden--Stockholm
Czech Republic--Prague
Italy--Florence
Portugal--Lisbon
Monaco--Monte-Carlo
France--Boulogne-sur-Mer
Netherlands--Venlo
Netherlands--Amsterdam
France--Paris
France--Lyon
France--Digne
France--Nevers
France--Lille
Norway--Ålesund
France--Saint-Omer (Pas-de-Calais)
France--Bailleul (Nord)
Belgium--Ieper
Belgium--Mesen
France--Cambrai
France--Somme
France--Arras
France--Lens
France--Calais
Germany--Emden (Lower Saxony)
Netherlands--Vlissingen
France--Brest
France--Lorient
France--La Pallice
Egypt--Suez
Germany--Berlin
Yemen (Republic)--Aden
Cyprus
Turkey--Gallipoli
Black Sea--Dardanelles Strait
Turkey--İmroz Island
Turkey--İzmir
Greece--Lesbos (Municipality)
Greece--Thasos Island
Greece--Chios (Municipality)
Greece--Thasos
Bulgaria
Turkey--Istanbul
Europe--Macedonia
Greece--Kavala
Kenya--Nairobi
Africa--Rhodesia and Nyasaland
Tanzania
Sudan
Eritrea
Ethiopia
Sudan--Kassalā
Eritrea--Asmara
Yemen (Republic)--Perim Island
Ethiopia--Addis Ababa
Sudan--Khartoum
Ghana--Takoradi
Libya--Cyrenaica
Libya--Tobruk
Egypt--Cairo
Iraq
Greece--Crete
Libya--Tripolitania
Tunisia--Mareth Line
Libya--Tripoli
Tunisia--Qaṣrayn
Tunisia--Medenine
Italy--Pantelleria Island
Malta
Italy--Licata
Italy--Brindisi
Italy--Foggia
Italy--Cassino
Italy--Sangro River
Italy--Termoli
Yugoslavia
Croatia--Split
Croatia--Vis Island
Italy--Loreto
Italy--Pescara
Trinidad and Tobago--Trinidad
North America--Saint Lawrence River
Newfoundland and Labrador--Happy Valley-Goose Bay
Bahamas
Florida
Italy
Poland
Massachusetts
New York (State)
Algeria
Tunisia
Libya
Egypt
North Africa
Ontario
Québec
Germany
Croatia
Czech Republic
Ghana
Greece
Kenya
Norway
Russia (Federation)
Turkey
Yemen (Republic)
Portugal
Trinidad and Tobago
North America--Niagara Falls
France--Reims
Europe--Frisian Islands
Germany--Monheim (North Rhine-Westphalia)
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
England--Norfolk
England--Suffolk
England--Gloucestershire
England--Lancashire
England--Leicestershire
England--Lincolnshire
Germany--Oberhausen (Düsseldorf)
Greece--Thessalonikē
Germany--Herne (Arnsberg)
Atlantic Ocean--Kattegat (Baltic Sea)
Libya--Banghāzī
Russia (Federation)--Arkhangelʹskai︠a︡ oblastʹ
Great Britain Miscellaneous Island Dependencies--Jersey
Virginia--Hampton Roads (Region)
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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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Royal Air Force
Language
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eng
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Text
Text. Memoir
Format
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142 printed sheets
Identifier
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BLovattPHastieRv2
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Pending text-based transcription
1 Group
100 Group
101 Squadron
157 Squadron
2 Group
214 Squadron
223 Squadron
3 Group
4 Group
6 Group
8 Group
85 Squadron
88 Squadron
air gunner
aircrew
anti-aircraft fire
B-17
B-24
B-25
bale out
Beaufighter
Bismarck
Botha
C-47
Chamberlain, Neville (1869-1940)
Churchill, Winston (1874-1965)
crash
crewing up
Distinguished Flying Cross
entertainment
evacuation
Flying Training School
Gee
Gneisenau
Goldfish Club
ground personnel
H2S
Halifax
Harris, Arthur Travers (1892-1984)
Harvard
He 111
Heavy Conversion Unit
Hitler, Adolf (1889-1945)
Hudson
Hurricane
Initial Training Wing
Ju 88
Lancaster
love and romance
Martinet
Me 109
Me 110
mine laying
Mosquito
Mussolini, Benito (1883-1945)
navigator
Nissen hut
Oboe
Operational Training Unit
Oxford
Pathfinders
pilot
Proctor
radar
RAF Banff
RAF Catfoss
RAF Catterick
RAF Chedburgh
RAF Cranwell
RAF Dishforth
RAF Farnborough
RAF Horsham St Faith
RAF Kinloss
RAF Leuchars
RAF Lichfield
RAF Lyneham
RAF Manston
RAF North Coates
RAF Oulton
RAF Padgate
RAF Prestwick
RAF Riccall
RAF Silloth
RAF South Cerney
RAF St Eval
RAF Thornaby
RAF Thorney Island
RAF Windrush
RAF Woodbridge
Roosevelt, Franklin Delano (1882-1945)
Scharnhorst
Spitfire
sport
Stirling
Swordfish
Tiger Moth
Tirpitz
training
V-1
V-2
V-weapon
Whitley
Window
wireless operator
Women’s Auxiliary Air Force
-
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659df08ea6250946e6d6482def35a4b5
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7db4a746ced2aa5156954c5ac72f5a5a
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Wagner, Henry Wolfe
H W Wagner
Description
An account of the resource
15 items. Two oral history interviews with Sergeant Henry Wolfe Wagner (1923 - 2020, 1604744 Royal Air Force), his memoirs, documents and photographs. He flew operations as a navigator with 51 Squadron from RAF Snaith and became a prisoner of war. He was demobbed in 1946 and returned to education where he remained until his retirement.
The collection was catalogued by Trevor Hardcastle.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
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2016-05-04
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
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Wagner, HW
Transcribed document
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Transcription
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[underlined] Item for inclusion in THE DIGGER [/underlined]
Early in 2010 it came to my notice that the National Lottery had a fund called “Heroes Return”, which would provide finance for any ex-service person to the revisit any part of the world in which they had served and had any particular reason to go back to. I applied to go back to the region of Holland where our aircraft crashed in 1944, and to visit the cemetery where the rest of my crew are buried, and was awarded a grant of £875.
The date of the crash was 18 December, and subsequent enquiries I have made revealed that we were shot down by a Junkers 88, by means of upward-firing cannon, flown by Lieutenant Walcher, at a height of some 15,000 feet. With our Halifax on fire, I bailed out, and before anyone else was able to get clear the aircraft exploded, so there were no more survivors. Being the navigator, and therefore knowing where we were, I realised that on a strong N W. wind I was probably going to drift on my parachute across the border and finish up inside Germany, which is in fact what occurred, and after six days on the run I was captured.
The aircraft itself crashed in the far S.E. Corner of Holland, a few miles from the river Maas and the German border, in an area which had only two weeks before been cleared of the retreating Germans and the situation there was far from being back to normal. The rest of my crew were buried temporarily close by the crash site and later
[page break]
re-interned at 185 British Brigade Cemetery at Venray, not far away. Contact had already been established with people in the nearby village of Brockhuizen via the services of Tom Clevis, who taught English at the school, so there were no language difficulties.
My friend Dick Drawbridge undertook to see to the travelling arrangements, and together with his wife we made the journey in his car – Harwich, Hook of Holland, and all the way across the south of Holland to where the crash occurred. The Lottery grant took care of all the travel expensed and three nights at a good hotel.
The day after we arrived, Tom Clevis took us to the home of Vries Peeters, who had set up a small museum of his own, containing some wreckage salvaged from our aircraft and from a Manchester which had crashed nearby earlier in the war. A reporter from the local paper interviewed me and later published a description of the event and all the details of it. I was supplied eventually with a translation into English. Mr Peeters gave me a section of panelling from a wing which I brought home with me, with the intention of having a framework made for it, surrounded by a description of events and relevant photographs. This is for display in our own aircraft museum. I think the panel came from the starboard wing, which became detached when the explosion happened and come to earth half a mile away.
[page break]
The next day we were taken to the cemetery where the rest of my crew are buried. It is in a peaceful spot, surrounded by trees, and beautifully maintained by the Imperial War Graves Commission. The tombstones are kept clean and in front of each one is a flowering plant.
For the opportunity to make this visit, I am greatly indebted to the National Lotter, to the people of Brockhuizen, and to Tom Clevis and Vries Peeters for their assistance.
Henry Wagner.
Bill Welbourne has a number of photographs, any of which you may have copied, to use as you see fit. Eric Cox is a craftsman in this particular art.
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
Henry Wagner visits the graves of his crew
Description
An account of the resource
This account was written by Henry for publication in 'The Digger'. Henry recounts that in 2010 he became aware that the National Lottery were awarding grants to veterans to visit places with special memories for them, he applied and was successful. This is the account of his visit to Broekheuzen, Holland, close to where his aircraft had crashed and to the Commonwealth War Graves Commission cemetery.
Creator
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Henry Wagner
Format
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Three hand written pages
Language
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eng
Type
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Text. Memoir
Text
Identifier
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MWagnerHW1604744-170719-160001, MWagnerHW1604744-170719-160002, MWagnerHW1604744-170719-160003
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Civilian
Spatial Coverage
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Netherlands
Netherlands--Swolgen
Contributor
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Jan Waller
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Date
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2010
Temporal Coverage
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2010
1944-12-18
51 Squadron
aircrew
bale out
evading
final resting place
Halifax
Halifax Mk 3
Ju 88
killed in action
Manchester
navigator
RAF Snaith
shot down
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1181/30735/BWagnerHWWagnerHWv1-01.1.pdf
e0571529641f83a364bcf25b44a796ff
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
Wagner, Henry Wolfe
H W Wagner
Description
An account of the resource
15 items. Two oral history interviews with Sergeant Henry Wolfe Wagner (1923 - 2020, 1604744 Royal Air Force), his memoirs, documents and photographs. He flew operations as a navigator with 51 Squadron from RAF Snaith and became a prisoner of war. He was demobbed in 1946 and returned to education where he remained until his retirement.
The collection was catalogued by Trevor Hardcastle.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-05-04
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
Wagner, HW
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[front cover]
“…. we need someone with integrity, distinction and honour …
We need someone like H W Wagner”
[/front cover]
[page break]
Extract from “Those Who Fall”, by John Muirhead, a Flying Fortress pilot. Published b Transworld Publishers Ltd., 61-63 Uxbridge Road, London W5 5SA.
“Everything happened that I have said happened, but it’s memory now, the shadow of things. The truth lives in its own time, recall is not the reality of the past. When friends depart, one remembers them but they are changed; we hold only the fragment of them that touched us and our idea of them, which is now a part of us. Their reality is gone, intact but irretrievable, in another place through which we passed and can never enter again. I cannot go back nor can I bring them to me; so I must pursue the shadows to some middle ground, for I am strangely bound to all that happened then.”
[page break]
2
[centred] Your life is waiting for you, H W Wagner. [/centred]
[centred and underlined] CARPE DIEM. [/centred and underlined]
The title is, of course, from the Latin poet Horace, of if you prefer his full name, Quintus Horatius Flacus [sic], in his book of Odes, and I will translate it for those of you who have not had the benefit of a classical education. It means “Catch hold of the day”, with the implication “and squeeze every drop of value you can out of it.” The quotation continues Quam minimum credula postero (trusting[?] the next day as little as possible) – because it might never come. While on the subject of Horace, another quotation of his seems to me to be suitable, although you may well not agree, except possibly insofar as it applies to your good self – Integer vitae scelerisque purus (a man of upright life and pure from guilt.)
Having been always interested in flying, it seems to me that life is like a take-off, circuit and landing, and I have divided this account accordingly.
[underlined] UPWIND LEG [/underlined]
The upwind leg has two parts – rolling along the runway to reach flying speed, then climbing to circuit height.
[underlined] Take-off. [/underlined]
[photograph of two young children with their mother]
I was born on 24 March 1923. In the photograph, I am the little chap in the middle. My mother on the left, of course, and my elder brother John on the right. There were destined to be two other
[page break]
3
brothers after me, Richard and Brian. Richard was only a year younger than me, and due mainly to the similarity in our ages he was the one who was always closest to me, although I never had anything against the others.
[newspaper cutting]
[centred and underlined] Henry Stanhope [centred and underlined]
[centred] Henry the Seventh hits the charts [/centred]
One of the more engaging trends last year was the elevation of “Henry” to the top ten of first names, as disclosed by Mrs Margaret Brown and Mr Thomas Brown in The Times last week. It now occupies seventh place, enjoying – without the benefit of royal patronage – its most significant renaissance since the early Tudors.
To the 47 boys whose parents proclaimed their choice in the columns of this newspaper, I say “Welcome” – before adding a short introduction to the life that lies ahead of them. They should not be deceived for instance by those dictionaries of surnames which one thumbs through in W. H. Smith’s but never actually buys. These will tell you that it means “head of the house” and no doubt to the Plantaganet kings it seemed peculiarly apposite.
“Henry!” to the modern cartoonist, however, is a little man with a toothbrush moustache and half-moon glasses, washing up in a frilly apron while his virago of a wife slumbers next door in their surburban sitting room. The best portrait to be hoped for is that of an elderly Tory in hairy tweeds unloading his Scotch in the gunroom while his equally hairy wife is bullying the vicar at the village fete. The image is rarely swinging.
Nor is it a name which lends itself to some comfortable sobriquet or short-form – which, of course, is one reason why mothers like it. At school they solved it by calling me Stanhope, at college by switching to “H”. During National Service, fellow gunners, nonplussed by having a Henry in their midst toyed with “Harry” but settled for “Stan”, which struck a more agreeably percussive note in the barrack room. My first editor, on being introduced, scratched his head doubtfully and said he had a cocker spaniel called Henry. “What should we actually call you?” he asked.
At school I would gladly have swopped the dynamo on my bike for a name like Bob, or Bill or – as it was in Wales, Glyn, Gwyn, Bryn or even Geraint. Boys see safety in numbers and being called Henry was only one up on being Christopher Robin. Survival had to be fought for.
It is however a name one grows into and, in middle age, can offer some interesting advantages. It is, for instance, not easily forgotten and one which acquires a life of its own. Who would think of referring to Irving, Cooper, Kelly, Jackson, Kissinger or the fictitious Higgins (“Just you wait, ‘enry ‘iggins”) without their given name (“Christian” now being considered ethnically discriminatory)? An invisible hyphen welds them together like bacon and eggs.
There are also, as yet anyway, not enough of us in the English-speaking world to cause confusion. Having said that, it is arguable that when two Henrys do appear in the same office, battalion or school, the mix-ups are almost embarrassing.
They can also at times be quite flattering. In the elitist circles of East Coast America in the 1970s, to be called Henry was almost a passport to any dinner party in town. “There’s no disputing that Henry has a really first-class mind”, I once heard a Harvard professor say, unaware of the warm glow of pleasure he was causing six feet behind during that brief moment of self-delusion. I have never been confused with Henry Cooper, but that is perhaps because he is really called ‘Enery – though I would never do so to his face.
My “hooray!” for the 1982 Henrys is not therefore unmuted. Our image needs polishing. When someone calls “Henry” I still want to turn round – not just carry on walking like the Toms, Dicks and Harrys (no doubt corruptions of the original) who can always assume that it’s not meant for them. Back to the sink ….
[/newspaper cutting]
My mother and father were both Irish, which of course makes me Irish by birth, although later in life I took out naturalisation papers to become a
[page break]
4
British citizen. Of my father’s family I know nothing, but my mother came from an upper-class county family, the Strongs. I still have a salver with their family crest in the centre. We lived in a big house on the shores of a bay at Strand Hill, in County Sligo. The only person I can remember there is my grandfather, a grand old man with a white spade-shaped beard, who smoked a pipe. There being no such things as pipe-cleaners in those days, Richard and I brought in feathers for him, saying: “A fedder for Pa’s pike.” Regrettably, I knew little of my father; it was obviously not a happy marriage, and my parents separated when I was above five. I do know, however, that he was a man of many parts – he had a degree in theology from Trinity College, Dublin, a qualification in dentistry, and he was a well-known sporting shot, contributing to a magazine called The Shooting Times and British Sportsman. For my mother’s part, she was a keen hockey player, and also an Irish county golfer.
When I was three or so, we moved to England, for reasons unknown to me, and our first home was in a village called Sonning Common, near Reading. We lived in quite a large house called The Laurels, with a large orchard (apples, pears, plums, greengages, damsons and cherries) and a one-acre field at the back. There being no refuse-collection in those days, there was a big hole at the far end of the orchard, known as the ashpit. When it was full, another one had to be dug. In the field, my father had a clay-pigeon trap, and used to gather cronies there from time to time for shooting parties. He had a gun-room in the house, with possibly about thirty guns of various calibres, and several hundred cartridges, and Richard and I used to go in there and play – what madness to let two little boys loose among so much lethal apparatus. An old chap used to come and cut the front lawn with a scythe, and one day we threw cartridges at him out of the window, which pleased him not at all. Another room was the dental surgery, which terrified us when we were called in for treatment, as dental surgery was in its infancy in those days, and equipment was primitive. You could be sure of a painful session there. I remember seeing in one of the magazines a picture of
[page break]
5
a set of false teeth, and I thought to myself: “They don't just take out the teeth, they take out the whole top of your mouth as well.”
Two years after arriving there, my father left, and I never saw him again. My mother was left to bring up four boys on her own, with occasional financial contributions from my father, and a hard time she had of it. Heating was by means of coal fires, cooking was done on an old-fashioned range, lighting was an Aladdin pressure lamp and candles, and there was no hot water. Monday was washing-day, using a coal-fired copper, so Monday dinner was always cold meat, the remnants of the Sunday joint. Other days, it might be stew, hash, or corned beef, with rice or macaroni pudding. Breakfasts were always porridge, and tea was bread and jam, with cake on Sundays. Shopping was done at Plumb’s stores, down the road, where there were no packed foods – everything was weighed up and served separately, and there were chairs for people to sit down and gossip to the shopkeeper while the order was being made up. Biscuits came out of big tins with glass tops, butter was cut off the block. A jug was left out for Mr. Saunders, the milkman, who came round with a horse and trap and carried a small pail of milk up to the door, replenished from a big churn in the trap. An old biddy, Mrs. McCallum used to deliver paraffin from cans hanging on the handlebars of her bicycle. Sweets were a rarity, but now and again we got a halfpenny to spend, with which we usually bought a Chicago Bar, a bar of evil-looking (and tasting) toffee, but which had the merit of being very long-lasting.
One Christmas, Richard and I got a small bicycle each, known as fairy-cycles, with hard tyres, and we could safely be released to ride round the village, there being hardly any traffic on the roads. Once a week, we used to go into Reading by Thames Valley bus, for bigger shopping, and used to finish up with tea and toast in the Lyons Corner Shop.
Such was the way of life in those days, and although my mother had plenty of worries, it was no hardship to us boys. We went to the village school, presided over by “Gaffer” Forder. I did two years
[page break]
6
there, the first year in Miss Cobb’s class, and the second year moved up with the dreaded Mrs. Clayton. While at Sonning Common school, I made the acquaintance of Geoffrey Dolphin, who remained a lifelong friend.
At the age of seven, then, we moved to Henley-on-Thames, to quite a nice house in a quiet road, St. Mark’s Road. This even had the benefit of gas-lighting downstairs, otherwise illumination was still by candle. There was a large walnut – tree in the back garden, which we were always climbing. John was sent off as a boarder to the Bluecoat School in Reading, and Richard and I started attending the National School, a grim fortress-like granite building very different from a village school and peopled by hard urban nuts of a type that we were not accustomed to, so we quite often had a rough time. The Avery’s, Blackall’s and the Fowler’s come to mind. Richard went into Mrs. Plumb’s class, I being a year older went into Mrs. Piper’s class, and she was much addicted to frequent use of the cane. In fact, I got it on my first day there. Lessons in those days tended to be of the repetitive rather than the interesting variety; this particular geography lesson consisted of repeating the names of mountains in Britain, from north to south. Of course, the names meant nothing to me, nor did they, I suppose, to anyone else in the class, but those who could not remember them were lined up in front and received a stroke of the cane. The most feared teacher in the school was Mr. Ackroyd, who was even more liberal than Mrs. Piper in his dispensation of correction; at the end of “playtime”, he blew a whistle, whereupon everyone stood stock-still. At a second blast, everyone moved to a place where their number of class was painted on the playground. Then he would shout “Classed, right and left turn”, and you turned in the direction of your classroom. One day, I turned in the wrong direction, and received a stroke of the cane for “disobedience”. Physical education consisted of what was known as “drill”, and this meant standing in lines on the playground and obeying order such as “touching the toes”, “clapping hands above the head”, and “running on the spot”. What strides have been made since, in the way of gymnastic exercises with proper equipment!
After two years at the National School, when I was nine, the
[page break]
7
educational system was reorganised, and Richard and I went to a junior school, called Trinity School, run under the auspices of Trinity Church, where I was married twenty-seven years later. This was presided over by Mrs. Billingham, known as Governess, and under whose instruction I first started taking a real interest in learning. At the age of eleven, there was an examination to determine who would go to Henley Grammar School and who would return to the dreaded National School, and I was relieved to be one of the successful 23%. By this time, we had moved to a council house in Western Avenue, the family circumstances having become even more [indecipherable word]. It must have been something of a strain for my mother, having to buy uniform, games kit and P.W. kit, but there was a small grant from the Grammar School foundation Trust to help those who found the going difficult. At Trinity School, I became friends with Jim Clark, who is still a good friend, and especially of Jim Davies, who lived just down the road from us. Jim Davies was a Fleet Air Arm fighter pilot, on Corsairs, during the war. Afterwards, he took a degree in law at Oxford, then worked in the Attorney-General’s office. He was killed in a Douglas DC 10 crash after taking off from Paris; a baggage-door had not been properly fastened, and it opened in flight. The ensuing decompression buckled the floor, which jammed the controls, and all aboard were killed.
This concludes the runway section, then. The aircraft is nicely on the move, has flying speed, and the way ahead, barring accidents, is clear, and there is plenty of room for manoeuvre. The next section of the circuit is the climb-out, gaining height, looking round and feeling the air.
[underlined] Climb-out. [/underlined]
The climb-out begins with the commencement of education proper at Henley Grammar School. I arrived there in September 1934, with Jim Clark. Education was undertaken seriously before the war – you had to work hard in order to qualify for a good job. I had no idea what sort of work I would eventually do, there being no careers guidance in those days. But part from
[page break]
8
the underlying seriousness, there was no worry attached to the whole business, and it was an enjoyable time. This is the little lad who started at the Grammar School at the age of eleven.
[photograph]
In the 1930’s, competitiveness was encouraged in both sport and games. Nowadays, it is actively discouraged – no sense of inferiority must be allowed to develop, even among those who know they are inferior. Any attempt to be better than the rest is frowned upon, because it would tend towards divisiveness and the creation of an elite, so everyone must conform to a lower level. But in those times, prizes were awarded for academic achievement and medals and cups given for sporting excellence – there was every encouragement to do better. So everyone worked to the best of their ability, and I do not think anyone suffered for that reason.
About the time that I started at the Grammar School, I took my first tentative steps in the world of golf. Richard was the moving spirit behind this, and we bought ourselves a putter each from
[page break]
9
Woolworths, price six denarii, and we used to take them up to a field about a mile away and just hack about. Jim Davies joined us too, and nearly all our spare time was spent in that pursuit. Balls were obtained by looking for them in hedges adjoining the gold course. Finding more than enough for our needs, we thought about how we might turn them to profit. We used to make the occasional cycle journey into Reading and sell them at a sports shop. A dozen would bring in three shillings or so (about 15 pence in modern money); later, we developed contacts among local golfers, notably Tom Luker and Bert Butler, which saved the trip to Reading. Most of the money was saved with the intention of buying a bag of clubs each, but 3d. a week was spent on the Saturday afternoon visit to the cinema and 1d. on sweets. When enough money was saved, we went into Reading and went round the Junk-shops, obtaining a bag each (and scruffy old things they were), and a motley selection of old rusty wooden-shafted clubs. And so we were in business. There was no way of joining Henley Gold Club, golf being the preserve of the upper crust, but there was a nine-hole course on a public common at Peppard, some four miles distant, where one could play for 10/6d. a year. We cycled there whenever time and weather permitted, clubs over the shoulder, sandwiches in saddle-bags. Jim Davis was with us in this venture, and you couldn’t have found a happier lot, day in, day out, through holidays. Through a good deal of my life, I have had enormous pleasure from golf, and met so many friends. Golf is a great leveller, and when a man is on the course, his wealth and social status matter not a scrap. What is important is his attitude to the game. A young American golfer of great promise, Tony Lema, who was regrettably killed in a light aeroplane crash on his way to a tournament, wrote in his book “Champagne Golf” – “Golf is the one game that really gives a man the opportunity to play the gentleman.” One does occasionally come across the other sort on a golf course, but they are not true golfers, and may
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be disregarded.
Another activity which took up some of our time, mainly in summer, was kite-flying. The materials were inexpensive, as we made our own. My mother would cut up old curtains into large octagons, about two feet across, hem them, and stitch a pocket in each corner. All that was needed was 3d ball of string and a fishing - net. Fishing net? Yes. The net itself was discarded, the bamboo split down the middle and used to make four struts. Many an afternoon we spent sitting on the grass gazing up at the kites and giving an occasional twitch on the string. Threepenny gliders, launched by catapult, also provided a lot of entertainment while the kite string was tied to a fence.
Next - door to Jim Davies lived a young lad with the reputation of being something of a crazy inventor. His name was Reggie Cripps. One scheme he thought up was that if old armchair springs were attached to the bottom of an orange-box, it would, if dropped from a few feet with him aboard, bounce ever higher and higher. Where he thought it would all end I don’t know. A preliminary trial resulted in a dull thud. He suggested attaching a multiplicity of springs and dropping him from the roof of his shed, but we declined to participate. Another idea was that he should jump out of his bedroom window, using his mother’s umbrellas as a parachute, but his mother enters a firm nolle prosequi.
Throughout my time at the Grammar School, staff wore academic gowns, which was a novelty for me. In my first year, I made the acquaintance of Mr. Clifford, who taught me my first words of French. Boys sat on one side of the classroom, girls on the other. Next to me sat Anthony Griffiths, son of the local Baptist minister. I met him again in May 1945, in Germany. Part of the camp I was in was being moved by train, and the train was in sidings at Luckenwalde station. Walking along beside the track, I saw an officer who looked familiar, and asked if his name was Griffiths. He had been a Spitfire pilot, and was shot down on a sweep over France. Also in the same class was Dougie Blows. We used to stay behind after school, until quite late, playing Fives, and indulging in practical jokes with bicycles in the sheds. One
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trick was to slacken off the nut, turn the saddle round and tighten the nut again. Another was to suspend bicycles up the trees, another to weave thin wire in and out of the links of the chain. A further member of the class was Nelson Swinney, who had the enviable reputation of being the only boy able to spit over the fives-court wall. In this class too I renewed the acquaintance of Geoff Dolphin, and we remained together throughout our Grammar School career.
Early on, I was given the nickname Otto, which remained with me while I was at school.
At the end of the first year, I was presented with the Form Prize, a copy of “Captains Courageous”, which I still have.
Physical education was in the hands of Mr. Clifford, and although in the gymnasium where there was some apparatus, it was not very imaginative. Sport was rugby football, which I considered a rough game and to be avoided if possible, if not possible, keep as far from the ball as you could - if caught in possession of the ball, you were likely to be done over. This attitude persisted for a couple of years, then I did get caught in possession of the ball and realised that the only thing to do was to make a run for it. Having got away with it unscathed once, I did not mind so much having a go a second time, and gradually began to enjoy the rough and tumble of the game. So much so that for my last three years at school I was a regular member of the First XV, and received rugby colours. This entitled one to wear a special cap, dark blue velvet with gold piping and tassel, when going to play in matches. I played rugby for many years thereafter, and derived as much enjoyment from it as I did from golf. I still enjoy seeing a good rugby match on television. Summer sports were cricket and tennis, but I never made much of these. I liked watching cricket, and found my niche when I was appointed first-team scorer.
In the second year, the study of Latin was introduced, taught by the somewhat austere Mr. “Fuzzy” Phillips, and I soon realised that the languages were my strong point, not the sciences. I found science interesting but did not excel at it. Mathematics I found
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very difficult, and spent many hours poring over problems on the nights when there was Maths homework. I used to retreat to the front room to do my two hours or so of homework in the evenings, illumination was provided by a guttering candle, as it was in all the bedrooms - there was only gaslight in the dining room, and that was none too brilliant. There was no temptation to skimp homework, as there was no television or any other distraction.
And so the years passed until I entered the Fifth Form, the year of the school certificate. To pass this, to get a certificate at all, one had to pass in a certain range of subjects - English language and maths were obligatory, also a language, then a choice of history or geography, then a practical subject, where I just scraped a pass in art, having minimal ability in that subject. If you did not get a School Certificate, you stayed in the Fifth Form for another year to have another rack at it. If you passed, you moved into the Sixth Form for a two-year course leading to the Higher School Certificate. The work was of a different dimension altogether, far more advanced. To get a certificate, you had to pass in two subjects at Main level and two at Subsidiary level. I took English and French at Main level, and Geography and Latin at Subsidiary level. At least, that was my intention, but the Headmaster, “Sammy” Barnes enquired why I was not also taking mathematics, having passed therein in School Certificate. “I’m no good at maths, sir”, I said. “Wagner, you’re taking maths,” he said. “Yes sir”, I replied, and I was unwillingly plunged into the calculus, co-ordinate geometry, the binomial theorem, and the like. English was in the hands of Miss Smith, a lively young thing; French was taught by the deputy head, Miss “Misery” Hunter, Latin by Mr. Darling, who also took P.E., maths by Mr. Potter, and Geography by Mr. Bryant, who was later killed in the war. I passed in all these subjects, which qualified me for University entrance.
At the beginning of the Lower Sixth year, I was made a prefect, and a year later captain of Periam House. Meanwhile, the
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golf had gone on pace. We played at Peppard until the end of 1937, with the occasional day on Henley golf course when we had 2:6d to spare (12 1/2 pence in modern parlance.) We knocked up the Henley professional, Bill Pedler, at 8 a.m. to pay the green fee (which pleased him not at all), played one round, then another half a round, had the sandwiches which we brought with us, finished that round, played another round, went home for tea, and played another round in the evening - 72 holes in one day - good value for 12 1/2 pence. At the beginning of 1938, we enquired about joining the junior section of the club, but this was beyond our means. However, they would admit us to the Artisan section for £1, which we gratefully accepted. A full 18-hole golf course and no more bike-rides over to Peppard. And we made good use of the course, being on it at every possible opportunity.
September 1939 and the war came. It was not unexpected, but to us boys it did not mean a great deal. We expected it to be over quite quickly, never dreaming that we would become embroiled in it ourselves in the fulness of time. Preparations had been going on for some time in the past - gas-masks had been issued, evacuees came from London (and to our horror stooped so low as to dig in the bunkers on the golf course as if they were on the beach.) This was the beginning of my second year in the Sixth Form, working for the Higher School Certificate. To pass this you had to get six units (two for a subject at Ordinary level, one for a subject at Subsidiary level, get them any way you liked.) I took an extra one, Mathematics, at the instigation of the Headmaster (I see I got this slightly wrong on the previous page, but now have the certificate for your kindly perusal.) Studies were somewhat interrupted by the fact that we had to share our school premises with a school evacuated from London, Archbishop Tennyson’s School. We worked in the mornings, they had the place in the afternoons, leaving me free in the afternoons to sneak off occasionally for a game of golf. Also, Richard and I bought a folding two-seater canoe, on instalments, paid for with money we earned finding golf-balls, and we often
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took it out on the Thames when weather permitted.
To go back to the day war was declared, Sunday 3 September. We listened to the sad announcement by the Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, on the radio (or wireless, as it was called then), at 11 a.m. Shortly afterwards, the air-raid sirens sounded, and gas-masks were brought to the ready - nobody knew what to expect. It was a false alarm though, and soon afterwards we settled down for our Sunday dinner. Then Richard and I set off over the golf-course. It was completely deserted except for us two. At one tee, adjoining the road, we were taken to task and heartily condemned by a passer-by for indulging in a frivolous pursuit at a time of national catastrophe, but it is difficult to see how we could have helped by staying at home. With the departure into the Services of most of the greenkeepers, labour was short, and Richard and I volunteered to go over on Fridays and mow a few of the greens for week-end play, as did other members of the Artisans. Big shots among the Artisans in those days were Bill Steptoe, Cyril Moss (handicap 1), Alf Smith, Percy Clayton, and George Piggott (“I can’t never ketch ‘old o them shots, I can’t, no, not them shots”, speaking of the lofted chip.) I understand his feelings, because I am not much of a dab at them either.
My elder brother, John, went into the Army, the rest of us were still at school. Rationing began to bite; breakfasts were usually scrambled dried egg, dinners either sausage-meat or fish, and tea was bread and jam. We each had our own pot of jam (1 lb. / month), and we would sit miserably at teatime wondering whether or not to have another slice and keeping an eye on the level in other people’s pots. There was also some very dubious meat or fish paste about.
And so we made our way into 1940 and the end of my school career. I had by this time made up my mind to go to University and subsequently into teaching. There was no careers guidance in those times - you had to make up your own mind what you would like to do. I was accepted for Reading University, travelling in each day by bicycle (7 miles), and home in the evening, in all
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weathers. At this time I made the acquaintance of Ken Ablewhite, who had gone to the University the year before, and we used to do the journey together.
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[university shielf]
UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE
LOCAL EXAMINATIONS SYNDICATE
HIGHER SCHOOL CERTIFICATE
This is to certify that HENRY W WAGNER of Henley Grammar School
Passed the Higher School Certificate Examination in July 1940 having satisfied the general requirements of the examination and having reached the standards shown (Advanced, Ordinary, or Subsidiary) in the following five subjects:
French Ordinary
Geography Ordinary
English Subsidiary
Latin Subsidiary
Mathematics Subsidiary
Index number 570
Place of examination Henley
Date of birth 24 March 1923
[signature]
Vice-Chancellor
THE BOARD OF EDUCATION accept the examination as reaching the approved standard.
Signed on behalf of the Board of Education
[signature]
Assistant Secretary
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We used to leave home at 8 a.m. in order to arrive for the 9 o’clock lecture, work till 12.30, have lunch in the Buttery, work again in the afternoon (usually in the library, as there were no afternoon lectures), have tea in St. David’s Hall (tea, toast and jam, and a lardy cake), then work in the evening until about 8 o’clock. It called for a good deal of self-discipline – you could waste an awful lot of time if you were so minded. Geoff Dolphin, whom I have mentioned before, also joined us at the University. In the first year, I had to study four subjects, two of which would be subsequently dropped. I took French (Professor Dessignet[sic], Dr. Bowen, Miss Paton, Miss Dale), Latin (Mr. Cormack), Geography (Professor Miller and Miss Campbell) and Logic (Professor Hodges). This first year course was called Intermediate Arts. In the sporting line, I played rugby, and even did a bit of rowing.
In the summer of 1940, before going to the University, I worked on a farm with Ken Ablewhite. Labour was scarce, and farmers were glad of anyone who could help them out. The days were long and tiring, but the work was very satisfying, especially as there were a couple of lively land-girls working there as well – Pat Pepper (as hot as her name suggests), and Mary Kew. We indulged in turnip-hoeing, sheep-dipping, silage-making, and harvesting until it got too dark to work any more. Dick Green, the farmer, used to lend me a 12-bore when the corn was being cut, and I supplemented the meat-ration at home with quite a few rabbits.
At the University, the men all enrolled in the Officers’ Training Corps with a view to joining the Army. This was not at all to my liking, but I did it because everybody else did. Wednesday afternoons were given over to training, wearing Army uniform, and consisted of drill, weapon-training, tactical exercises, etc., under the supervision of Captain Gillett and Sgt. Major Warwick. After a few months, an Air Training Corps was started, and I thankfully transferred to that. Flying had always been a great interest of mine, and the A.T.C. was much more to my liking. The Commanding
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Officer was Professor Miller, with the rank of Squadron Leader, but he knew little about the Air Force. All the administration was done by a regular R.A.F. Officer, Flt. Lt. Jordan. He had been shot down in a Hurricane and was badly burned about the face. He was assisted by Sgt. Linton, a W/Op Air Gunner, who had been shot down in the desert and had walked back to our own lines. He mounted a Vickers Gas-operated machine-gun in the grounds, and always manned it when the sirens went, hoping for a crack at a low-flying German aircraft.
As I said, flying had always interested me, and I had my first flight five years before the war began. It was just a matter of good luck, as paying for a flight was obviously not on. Sir Alan Cobham’s air circus was due to come to Henley in 1934, and by way of publicity coupons were printed in the Henley Standard, the first to be drawn out to be awarded a free flight. I went round all the hours in the neighbourhood asking if I could have their coupons, and sent in a whole batch. One of them brought home the bacon. The flight was in an Armstrong-Whitworth biplane which seated about 12 people, and lasted for some 20 minutes, over and around Henley. The next flights were undertaken when I was in the University Air Squadron; Flt. Lt. Jordan used to put up a list in the week of those wanting to fly on Sunday afternoon. He allocated the flights as equally as possible. We flew in various 2-seater Miles aircraft from Woodley aerodrome.
After working at Dick Green’s farm in the summer of 1940, Ken Ablewhite and I bought a motorcycle each. I got a 150c.c. Royal Enfield two-stroke for £15 and Ken got a 150c.c. Excelsior for £17.10.0d. Neither of us had ever ridden a motorcycle before, so the dealer that we got them from took us into an alley that ran behind his yard and explained the process and let us have a go for a few minutes, then he turned us loose to ride them back to Henley, without any tax, insurance or driving licence. Now and again we used them to go in to the University, but not often, as there was not much petrol allowed on the ration. Before long,
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I changed my Royal Enfield for a 250c.c. O.K. Supreme, a 4-stroke, which was a great improvement.
[photograph of Henry]
Photograph taken for identification purposes on joining Reading University Air Squadron.
[photograph of Geoff Dolphin]
Re the photo of me taken for Air Squadron purposes:- a pupil at the Queen’s Girls’ School, Wisbech, saw it and said: “Cor, I wish I’d ‘a knowed you in them days, Mr Wagner.” I said: “What’s the matter with me now, then?”, and she said “Well, it aint the same, is it.” I signed, and said: “No”.
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[photograph] Family photograph taken in 1940. Me in the blazer, next to my brother John. Brian on the right and Richard on the left. [/photograph]
And so we move on into 1941, in the summer of which I took, and passed, the Intermediate Examination of Arts. I started keeping diaries about this time, and some of them are still to hand, so I have many reminders of details which I would otherwise have forgotten. I note, for instance, that the air-raid siren was a frequent occurrence, even in the daytime, but there was never anything near Henley. The nearest bombs, and they were only small ones, fell at Doble’s farm, Shiplake, about three miles away. In this second year at the University, I took up cross-country running, and was a regular member of the team. Matches took place on Saturday afternoons, usually with two other teams from other universities taking part. The distance was 8-9 miles, and I noted, on one occasion “going was easy at first, but rather hard after halfway, mainly over soaking boggy ploughed fields and wet muddy lanes.” The 1941 diary is remarkable to me now for the amount that I managed to cram into each day. While actually at the University, every possible moment was spent working, often until 9 p.m. or later. And yet I seemed to go to the cinema at least twice a week and play golf at least twice, with swimming canoeing and a multitude of other activities
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thrown in, particularly at week-ends and in the vacations. In the summer, I worked again with Ken Ablewhite on Dick Green’s farm.
In September, having passed the Intermediate Arts examination, I returned to the university for one more academic year, to take First Year Finals in the summer of 1942 – call-up into the Air Force was deferred until after that examination.
On 8 December 1941, the Japanese attacked the American fleet at Pearl Harbour, and thereafter a state of war existed between Japan on the one hand and America and Britain on the other.
After the Christmas term ended, I worked in the Post Office at Henley, sorting letters and parcels. Extra staff were always taken on in the run-up to Christmas, and the pay was very welcome.
In June 1942 I took First Year finals and reached an acceptable standard, studying French with subsidiary Latin. This left one more year to complete the degree course, but there I had to leave it. For me, that completed the upwind leg. The circuit had been planned out reasonably well and everything seemed to be in working order. I knew where I was going, barring accidents, attacks by Gremlins, and that sort of thing, but there was the matter of the war to be dealt with first, and this constituted for me the
[underlined] CROSSWIND LEG. [/underlined]
Towards the end of August 1942 (the month in which I got the only hole-in-one I have ever had, playing a friendly game on Henley Golf Course with one David Mitchell), my call-up papers arrived and I duly reported to the Aircrew Reception Centre (ACRC, known as Arsy-tarsy) at St. Johns Wood in London. After a medical along with other members of the University Air Squadron, we were moved to a big block of what were before the war luxury flats (although there was not much luxurious about them then) called Viceroy Court, at Regents Park, to await events. It was the normal practice for prospective aircrew to be sent to an Initial Training Wing (there was one at Ilfracombe), but since we had done our initial training in the University Air Squadron, we were spared that, and went to a holding unit at Brighton, billeted in the Metropole Hotel, right on the front,
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which had been taken over by the Air Force for the duration. While there, I had this photograph taken. They must have done a brisk trade at Empire Studies because all the Air Force personnel seemed to patronise them.
[photograph]
People say to me sometimes: “Why did you join up? You were of Irish nationality and therefore not under any obligation.” But I felt that this was now my country, and that the obligation did exist. Then they say: “Well, why volunteer for aircrew then?” But the adventure of flying always enticed me; I felt that that was a job I could do as well as the next man, and that therefore there was no excuse for chickening out. Admittedly, there was not much chance of coming safely out at the other end, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles.
After a fortnight or so, postings came through to various Grading Schools. These were elementary flying training schools where prospective pilots or navigators were given a 12-hour course on Tiger Moths. Most were hoping to be pilots, of course, but instructors decided on suitability. I went to Brough, near Hull, and came under the instruction of Flying Officer Rothbone (later killed when a pupil landed a Tiger Moth on top of the one he
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was taking off in.) I went solo after 9¾ hours, about the average time, and was graded as a pupil pilot.
From Brough, I went on leave, and then back to Brighton again, this time billeted in the Grand Hotel. The time there was spent in drill, P.T., signals, aircraft recognition, navigation, armament, and clay-pigeon shooting. After some three weeks there, we were warned for posting, and one night, left Brighton on a special train which drew out at 2.30 a.m., arriving at Heaton Park, Manchester, at 11 a.m. Heaton Park was where those on overseas posting awaited their draft to a ship, and was a miserable hanging-about restless sort of place. Manchester is a rainy place anyway, and this was in January 1943. It was usually fog-bound and gloomy, and I was in a billet in Salford, some miles from the camp, a damp dingy tenement. Thankfully, I was not there long before my draft came through, and proceeded by train to Blackpool. All those on draft were dispersed round boarding-houses with typical seaside landladies. Tropical kit was issued, so we knew we were off somewhere warm. Three kit-bags had to have numbers and names put on in Indian ink – ordinary, flying, and tropical. That evening, Lee was one of the first away for the evening’s drinking; Bassingthwaite never got away at all. The time at Blackpool was spent just hanging about waiting – attending lectures, drill, route marches, going to the cinema, and that sort of thing. Finally, after about three weeks, towards the end of February, orders came to move. We went by train to Liverpool, marched to the docks, and embarked on a troopship, the S.S. Strathmore, 23,000 tons, and got organised on board, initiated into the process of slinging hammocks. These were slung from bars in the ceiling, and were difficult to get into because they were inclined to throw you out again. Also, the bars were too close together, with the result that you head was looking directly across at your feet. I soon gave up hammock-slinging, and laid mine out on the floor, but I was on the lowest deck of all, below the waterline; one of the propeller shafts ran just under the floor and thumped – thumped away all night, so sleeping was not the rest it should have been. The next day, the ship set sail from the Mersey and headed out round the north of Ireland.
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The sea was green and rough; almost everyone was seasick, and the evening meal was tripe and onions swimming in milk. There were not many takers. Life on board was pretty leisurely – there were a few lectures, frequent action-stations practice, but most of the time was spent reading and talking, and just sitting in the sun as the weather got progressively hotter. The ship was not in convoy, but sailing alone with one destroyer escort. It went far out into the Atlantic, then turned east, and ten days later land was sighted, and we entered harbour at Freetown, where the heat was stifling. There were many other ships in the harbour. The destroyer released depth-charges outside the harbour, having presumably detected a submarine. Three days later, the ship put to sea again, and in another fortnight arrived in Durban, South Africa. We then went by train to the Imperial Forces Transhipment Camp at Clairwood, just outside Durban. South Africa was a new world to all of us, far removed from the austerity of England. There was no black-out, and the shops were full of things unobtainable at home. The first things I bought were a big slab of chocolate and a tin of sweetened condensed milk, both of which I consumed as soon as I got back to camp. I used to go to the cinema every day in Durban with Peter Taylor and Maurice Gregson, and often we went swimming. Only one other thing stands out in my mind about that time, which was an organised visit to the Lever Brothers soap factory. I have always enjoyed visits to factories – Huntley and Palmers biscuit factory in Reading, Fry’s chocolate factory in Bristol, the Tusker Brewery in Nairobi.
After some ten days at Durban, we entrained for a two-day journey up through the Drakensberg mountains to the high veldt, to get another holding unit at Nigel. This was on an aerodrome, on Advanced Flying Training School where pupil pilots trained on Oxfords. A week later, postings came through, and we were dispersed to various Elementary Flying Training Schools to train on Tiger Moths. I came under the instruction of a South Africa officer, Lt. Goddard, not the easiest of men to get on with and somewhat anti-British. Circuits and landings was the first part of the programme, for which
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We flew about 20 miles to Rietgat, [sic] a small auxiliary aerodrome, just a part of the Veldt fenced in by barbed wire. Apart from circuits, the flying was done from the main aerodrome at Kroonstad, Orange Free State. Eventually, I had a solo test with Lt. Hooper, and did two solo circuits, going on later to solo steep turns, spins and loops. Three thousand feet was the statutory minimum for loops, but I always went up to four, being a great believer in plenty of height. They always say that the two most useless things in flying are height above you and runway behind you.
When I had done 10 1/2 hours solo, an incident occurred with Lt. Goddard which put paid to my aspirations to becoming a pilot. We flew to Rietgat [sic] and carried out various exercises, then Lt. Goddard said: “Just do one solo circuit, Wagner, then we'll go back to Kroonstad. Don't take long over it, because I'll have another pupil waiting.” He took out his control-column, secured the straps, and off I went. As I said, it was a very small field, and as I came in over the wire, I could see I was too high, so I opened up and went round again. This time also I could see I was too high, and opened up again. I saw Lt. Goddard standing in one corner of the field waving his control-column in the air and obviously in a rage. The third time, I was on the high side again, but I thought to myself that I had to get down at all costs. The Tiger Moth ran and ran – having no brakes, I could not arrest its progress, and it stopped about two yards from the wire, too close to turn it under power. So I undid my straps, got out, caught it by the tail-skid, pulled it back a few yards, turned it, got back in, and taxied back to where Lt. Goddard was waiting. “Right, Wagner,” he said, “fly me back to Kroonstad and make a good job of it because it is the last time you'll be at the controls.” And regretfully that was the end of my pilot training. I was “washed out”, as the saying went, and was, of course, very disappointed. Within three days, I was on my way to Roberts Heights, Pretoria, where I was re-graded as a Navigator. The three weeks I spent there were just time-wasting, doing odd jobs and often going into Pretoria to the cinema, waiting for a vacancy at a Navigational Training School. Eventually, a posting
[picture of Tiger Moth “I could fly one of these before I could drive a car”.]
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came through to 43 Air School, East London, which was quite a long way off. The train journey was through some spectacular scenery, down through the mountains to the coast. This was an Initial Training School where the rudiments of navigation were taught. I was, in fact starting again from scratch. Here, I met Graham Walker, who had been at the University Air Squadron with me, and who had been graded as a navigator from the start, and we kept together. For the first three weeks, nothing much happened, and Graham and I spent most of our time in town, going to the cinema, or swimming in the Indian Ocean from Orient Beach. We did quite a lot of P.T., had a few rugby games and had a lot of rifle and ordinary drill. While doing rifle-drill one day, the Station Warrant Officer, W/O Barnett came out to watch. He was a big fat man with piggy little eyes, a most unpleasant character. Observing the manoeuvre “Put down-arms”, when the rifle had to be laid on the ground, he remarked: “you bloody lot remind me of a lot of Waafs getting down on a jerry”, and I thought to myself: “What a common man, what a low lad.” Eventually, the course proper started, with lectures on DR navigation, plotting, meteorology, armament, signals, radio-navigation, aircraft recognition, compasses, and astro-navigation. This was all very concentrated stuff, and lasted for ten weeks, ending with an examination.
At the end of the course, postings came through, and I went with two friends, Graham Walker and Dave Wright, on an overnight train journey down the coast to Port Alfred, a small town miles from anywhere. This was where the practical navigation was done, interspersed with lectures. We were billeted in tents. There was a beautiful beach, almost deserted, where huge rollers came in from the Indian Ocean, picked you up and tumbled you along through the surf. There were sharks outside the line of breakers, so you had to be wary about going any further out.
the Flying Training was done in Ansons, with South African Air Force pilots. Their Ansons did not have hydraulics on the undercarriage, and it had to be wound up by hand, which was an awful chore. All right letting it down though. On alternate flights,
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one was either first or second navigator; the first navigator was responsible for plotting, wind-finding, working out courses, ground-speed and time of arrival, while the second navigator did photography and obtained fixes and bearings using the Astro Compass (which was not a magnetic compass but more of a bearing-plate) – all very well in the clear daylight skies of South Africa, but not likely to be much use in Europe where the ground was mostly obscured by cloud and everything was blacked-out at night. Also the second navigator took sights on stars, using a sextant, but astro fixes were far from reliable. Sights had to be taken on two stars and the readings converted into position-lines, using the Air Almanac. It took about 20 minutes to get a fix plotted, by which time you were about 40 miles further on.
And so the course went on until the middle of December. There were written examinations in all subjects. The last flight was a long navigational exercise, from the eastern side of the country to the western, and was by way of being a celebration. Base – Uitenhage – out to sea – George – Oudtshoorn, - Youngsfield (just outside Capetown). We stayed two days at a hotel in Capetown, and were disappointed not to be able to go up Table Mountain, as the weather closed in. We flew back to Port Alfred, and that was the end of the course.
[Picture of The Lagoon, Port Alfred]
On 23 December 1943, the passing-out parade took place, and brevets were pinned on with all due formality.
[Navigators Brevet]
Sergeant’s stripes were sewn on later onto best blue, battle-dress and greatcoat. That evening, there was a flight dinner at the Bathurst Hotel in Port Alfred. The traditional services Christmas dinner took place on the 25th, all serving being done by the officers.
[Air School logo on menu]
43 AIR SCHOOL
PORT ALFRED, South Africa
Christmas, 1943
DINNER
Fried Stock Fish and Butter Sauce
Roast Turkey and Boiled Ham
Roast Potatoes
Boiled Potatoes
Green peas
Cauliflower and White Sauce
Christmas Pudding and Brandy Sauce
Fruit, Nuts, Sweets, Mince pies,
Beer
Toast: Absent Friends
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We left Port Alfred on Boxing Day, for the 2½ - day journey back to Clairwood Camp, Durban. There was the usual splitting-up of friends on posting, but by this time I was in company with Leslie Shawcross. This Shawcross had crashed on a low-level map-reading exercise, when the pilot flew too low and the aircraft skated across the countryside, so he had had a narrow escape, very nearly being yet another of the many thousands killed in training.
[photograph] ‘No. 5 Air Navigators Course’ [/photograph]
And so we move on into 1944. At Clairwood, we were members of the Sergeants’ Mess, and this was quite a luxurious place, with very good food and a bar. There was plenty of free time and no harassment, as we were just waiting for a ship back to England. We were not waiting long – on 6 January we embarked in Durban Harbour on the S.S. Arundel Castle, 19,000 tons. We were on an upper deck this time, sleeping in bunks instead of hammocks. Unfortunately for me, mine was the top of a stack of four, right under an emergency light which had to be left on all night and shone directly onto my face. Furthermore, a card-school gathered below and played all night, with frequent calls of “Twist”, “Bust”, “I’ll see you,” so sleep was intermittent. Life aboard was generally very leisurely, with the
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occasional gun-crew, look-out or messing duties, and most of the time was spent reading, talking or seeing cinema shows.
On 7 January, we were tugged out of Durban Harbour, and steamed around waiting for the convoy to assemble. On 12 January, we entered Mombasa Harbour; little did I know I would be there again 23 years later. We left that same day, headed out to sea and then turned north. On 17 January we entered harbour at Aden, left the next day and steamed into the Red Sea, and thence to the Gulf of Suez, where we anchored. Aircrew destined for the Middle East disembarked here, mostly South Africans.
A pilot, Flt. Sgt. Fillmore, lent me a book of Tennyson’s poems, which I enjoyed reading over and over again. My favourite was The Song of the Lotos-Eaters, and the most poignant is Crossing the Bar, which you will find at the end of this book. I have always liked reading poetry (proper poetry, that is, not what passes for poetry these days), and am quite happy reading again through old friends in An Anthology of Modern Verse. Think of all the philosophy of life wrapped up in this one:-
[centred and underlined] IF [/centred and underlined]
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors[sic] just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
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Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling
Back to Port Suez – no, that wasn’t its name, it was Tewfik. Although the ship was anchored some two miles off-shore, an all pervading smell of burning tar and sulphur wafted out over us, its purpose being, so we were told, to counteract an outbreak of bubonic plague on shore. The ship steadily filled up with naval and R.A.F. personnel heading for home, and there was little room to move about. On 2 February, we entered the Suez Canal. About half-way along the Canal, it passes through the wide expanse of the Bitter Lakes, and it was the practice for north and south-bound convoys to pass each other at this point. There was a lot to be seen there – ex-Italian warships, submarines, flak-ships, army camps, gun-positions. All those aboard the troopship were able to indulge in the luxury of
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shouting abuse and obscenities at Military Police on guard at the gate of an army camp, about twenty yards away. The Canal is very narrow, and there was only about ten yards to spare on either side of the ship. At Port Said, after passage through the Canal, we took on oil and water from tankers, joined a convoy of four other troopships and three destroyers, and moved out into the Mediterranean. Torches and emergency rations were issued, as the northern coasts of the Med. were still in German hands and there was still enemy activity, although by this time the North African coast was in our hands. This coast was plainly visible to port, between Tobruk and Benghazi. Four days later, the coast of Sicily was sighted. The rest of the convoy went off to Italy, and the Arundel Castle was Stirling Castle entered harbour at Port Augusta. We left next day, joined a new convoy, and headed west, the next stop being at Algiers for one day. This was the last stop on the way home. We passed the lights of Tangier to port, went through the Straits of Gibraltar, round the north of Ireland and into the Mersey. Disembarked immediately, and proceeded by train to Harrogate. There was not much to be done there – kit inspection, medical, documentation – and at the end of February I went home to Henley on leave, for three weeks, returning to Harrogate thereafter.
After a few days at Harrogate, a posting came through to Whitley Bay, Northumberland. This was yet another holding unit. Aircrew were churned out from the training schools, then gradually moved up the line as vacancies occurred, heading inevitably for the squadrons – there was always an ample pool of trained men to draw upon. In Whitley Bay, we were billeted in ex seaside boarding houses, run by typical seaside landladies, and very sparsely furnished, food to match. There was much hanging about, parades, kit inspections, route marches, drill and lectures. On one occasion, even, I was detailed to dig the front garden of the boarding-house. I was not sorry to leave Whitley Bay.
The next posting was to an Advanced Flying Unit at West
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Freugh, near Stranraer, in Scotland. There was, of course, more waiting about while things got organised – lectures on the Browning gun, firing it on the range, dinghy drill, hydraulic systems of aircraft, flying control, night-vision, beacons and occults, radio procedures, astro, parachute drill, and “airmanship” (which covered just about everything). Here, I made the acquaintance of “Biff” Brewer, so-called because he was a keen golfer. Fortunately, the Sports Officer was also a keen golfer, and he often gathered together a few officionados and took us to Portpatrick Golf Club, where the professional had sets of clubs which he loaned out. It was a good course, along the cliff-tops, from where you could see Ireland across the water. There was a flying-boat base at Stranraer, and Sunderlands could be seen taking-off and alighting in the lough.
At West Freugh, these photographs were taken. They were intended to be handed to resistance groups in the event of being shot down, to aid in the preparation of false papers. These were known as [indecipherable word] photos.
[three facial photographs]
Flying training was done on Ansons on this course, an extension of the work done in South Africa, but under more difficult conditions. The weather was much worse, and on night-flying there were no lights to be seen, only the beacons and occults, and more use had to be made of radio bearings. The routes were generally N.W., over the Irish Sea, where there would be less traffic, a typical one being Base – Ayr - Rathlin Island (N. Ireland), - Dungannon – Peel (Isle of Man) – Base.
This course lasted six weeks or so, then the next posting was to an Operational Training Unit at Abingdon. There were talks
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on new aspects of navigation, such as navigating on the climb and descent, and on Gee, a radar device which enabled the navigator to get an instant and very accurate fix – no more need for getting position-lines and transferring them as necessary. There was much practice in plotting in the navigational trainer. There were also talks on the German Air Force, and other Intelligence matters, and on Escaping and Evasion.
At Abingdon, crewing-up took place. Twenty pilots, twenty navigators, twenty bomb-aimers, twenty wireless-operators and forty gunners were assembled in a hall and left to their own devices. It was up to each one to slot himself in, and in the end twenty crews emerged. My own crew consisted of :-
Warrant-officer Wilfred Bates – pilot (Newcastle)
Myself as navigator. (Henley-on -Thames)
Sgt. Leslie Roberts – bomb-aimer (Liverpool)
Sgt. Jack Jones – wireless-operator. (Lampeter, Wales)
Sgt. Thomas Worthington – mid-upper gunner. (Liverpool)
Sgt. Robert Thomas – rear-gunner. (Whitehaven)
There was no need for a Flight-engineer at this stage, as training was carried out on Armstrong – Whitworth Whitleys, which only had two engines. Later, on Heavy Conversion Unit, we were joined by Sgt. Eric Berry (Sale, Cheshire).
The Whitley was a heavy bomber in service at the beginning of the war, but since superseded. It was not a pleasant aircraft to fly in, being very cramped, cold, lumbering, and having no radar navigational equipment. Also it was very difficult to get out of in an emergency. The wing chord was very thick, the two wings being joined by a narrow tunnel across the fuselage, through which one had to crawl to reach the escape-hatch, encumbered by heavy flying-gear and a parachute-pack. It was engined by two Rolls-Royce Merlins. The Whitleys we trained on were tired and worn-out, and would not get above 12,000 feet.
As runways were being laid at Abingdon, we moved to Stanton Harcourt, a satellite for Abingdon, and flew from there.
[picture of Armstrong – Whitworth Whitley.]
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[photograph] Warrant-officer W.A. Bates. Pilot.
[photograph] Sgt. L.G. Roberts. Bomb-aimer.
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[photograph] Sgt. T.W. Worthington. Mid-upper gunner.
[photograph] Sgt. E. Berry. Flight-engineer.
The flights in the Whitley were, of course, longer than those in the Anson, a typical one being Stanton Harcourt, Newquay, Milford Haven, Stanton Harcourt, about 4 1/2 hours, including an hour or so on the bombing-range. One trip I have noted shows some of the difficulties that could be encountered : “Took off in fine weather 10.30, but ran into cloud half-way to Newquay. Started to descend, but the
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cloud got lower and thicker. Climbed to 12,000 feet, but icing started, so went down to 7,000 feet, still in cloud. Spotted a hole in the clouds, and went down through it to have a look. Identified position as Falmouth. Headed north, homed along the St. Eval beam, landed, and had dinner. Took off again 1500, and flew low along the coast, looking upwards at the cliffs of Hartland Point as we passed. Cut inland at Burnham and flew eastwards via Swindon through low cloud and bad weather, back to Stanton Harcourt.”
Apart from the long trips, there were many shorter ones, such as practice on the bombing-range and fighter affiliation, and quite a few navigational trips in Ansons while pilots were on familiarisation on the Whitleys.
The OTU course finished early in August; we returned to Abingdon, and a couple of days later went on leave. After leave, the next posting was to 4 Group Aircrew Training School, Acaster Malbis, near York. Being now in 4 Group meant that we would be operating on Halifaxes. Training School it might have been, but it was in fact yet another holding unit. Nevertheless, there were lectures on many diverse topics, such as broadcast wind velocities for bombing, pathfinder techniques, pyrotechnics, oscilloscopes, dinghy radios, hydraulic systems, German targets, flak, H2S, air-position indicator, homing on Gee, airborne lifeboat, - all good stuff.
The next move was to 1652 Heavy Conversion Unit, Marston Moor, near York. Here, we were introduced to the Handley Page Halifax, Mark III, on which we would be operating. Pilots had to learn the technique of flying a large four-engined aircraft, and the rest of the crew had to familiarise themselves with their positions in the aircraft and new equipment, as well as the general layout of the aircraft, such as flare-chutes, escape-hatches, oxygen equipment etc. The Halifax was engined with 4 Bristol Hercules sleeve-valve engines, and its all-up weight was some 30 tons. It did not quite match up to the Lancaster in performance and weight-lifting, but it was a good airman’s aircraft, solid, robust, and very dependable – it could take more knocking about than a Lancaster. It cruised at about 230 knots indicated airspeed when light, 210 when loaded. Fuel consumption was .9 air
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miles per gallon, and could carry about 5 tons of bombs, depending on the distance of the target. The bomb-load was usually mixed - perhaps one 2000 pounder, two thousand-pounders, four 500 pounders, and the rest made up of incendiaries, either 30-pounders or canisters of 4-pounders. The aim being to knock the target about and then set fire to it.
Here, we were joined by Sgt. Eri Berry, flight - engineer, and were now a complete crew of seven.
[photograph]
The first few Halifax flights were for W/O Bates to learn how to handle the Halifax and get used to doing so, including 3-engined flying, and for the bomb-aimer to drop practice-bombs on the range, so there was not much for me to do - just keep tabs on where we were. Even if lost, it was easy enough to get a Gee Fix and give a course for base. Air - to - air firing, for the benefit of the gunners, took place out to sea, beyond Flamborough Head. Flying was often cancelled through bad weather, or because of unserviceability of aircraft, since these were rather tired ex-operational aircraft, or ones
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which had been damaged by accidents. After about a fortnight of this sort of thing, the time came to venture further afield. The first attempt was a failure - Base S/C climbing to 16,00 feet - March - then the port inner engine packed up, so the propellor was feathered and we returned to base. It was another fortnight before we did a navigational trip again, the only flying in the meantime being night circuits. Much of the time in between was spent going into York to the pictures with one or more of the crew, or drinking in the Boot and Shoe or Spotted Ox at Tockwith, the nearest village.
A typical cross-country was Base - Darlington - Goole - Bury St. Edmunds - Market Harborough - Coventry - Nottingham - Base, but equipment of some sort often went wrong - one of the engines, Gee, H2S, DR compass - involving an early return. Sometimes we did not even get off the ground , as equipment proved unserviceable on being tested, or flying was cancelled at the last moment. If anything went wrong with the flying of the aircraft, there was a very efficient service known as Darkie (you couldn’t get away with that name nowadays.) The procedure was to call Darkie, and on enquiring the nature of the emergency , type of aircraft, whether heavy or light (i.e. bombs on or not), they would give a course to fly to the nearest aerodrome which could accept the aircraft, and monitor your progress to it. One such occasion reads “after 20 minutes, port inner packed up. Called Darkie, and landed 2125 at Bottesford, near Nottingham, a Lancaster Conversion Unit. Reported in at Flying Control, drew blankets, had supper, and turned in. Left 1340 the next day and flew back to base.”
At the end of the Heavy Conversion Unit course, the sausage-machine churned out the next, and final, posting, which was to 51 Squadron at Snaith, not far from Doncaster. We were now a fully trained crew, ready to be let loose on the Germans. All the crew were billeted together in a Nissen hut, which was shared with one other crew. Most of the daytime was spent in the Navigation Section or in the Bombing Section with Robbie, doing nothing in particular, playing draughts perhaps, or Chinese Checkers. The radio was always playing, a popular tune at that time being “Would you like to swing on a star, carry moonbeams home in a jar…..” I became heartily sick of that tune, and still dislike it even now. Another
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popular tune was “I hate to see that evening sun go down” (true enough), and, prophetically, “Don’t fence me in.”
The first few flights were familiarisation of various sorts - practice bombing, air-to-air firing, fighter affiliation. On the first flight, we did 3 circuits, then a tyre burst, so that was the end of that. On the first cross-country, which was up to Scotland, down to the Isle of Man and back to base, bad weather prevented us landing there, and we were diverted to Melbourne, returning to Snaith the next day. The next cross-country was Base - York - Belfast - Liverpool - Sheffield - Base, and was for practice in using the navigational aid H2S. If you will look back to the picture of the Halifax, you will see a bulge under the fuselage back towards the tail. This contained a rotating scanner. When radio waves were transmitted from it and hit something vertical, they were reflected back and showed as white patches on the appropriate receiver at the navigator’s position. Thus towns showed up extremely well and could be identified from a special map. Open ground showed up quite well; from water, there was no return. Controls on the set enabled the navigator to get his bearing and distance once the pinpoint was identified. Here is a photo of the H2S screen taken on a cross-country, while heading out over the Irish Sea. It says on the reverse “29.10.44 // 14,000 feet. 282˚ T. ISLE OF MAN. Range marker 10 miles. Sgt. Wagner.”
[photograph]
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The white patch towards the bottom is the northern tip of the Isle of Man. The white line going towards the left is the aircraft’s heading 282˚ True. The black line in the centre was over the northern tip of the Isle of Man when I took the bearing, which was shown on a rotating ring round the outside of the screen. The large circle was the range-marker, which I had set at 10 miles - 10 nautical miles, that is - we never worked in m.p.h. and statute miles, but knots and nautical miles.
Here is an example of a navigator’s log, and it gives some idea of how unremitting a navigator’s job was. An X means that the fix was obtained from H2S. The first fix is shown as X 173 YORK 13, which means that the aircraft was on a bearing of 173˚ from York, and 13 miles from the centre.
[missing photograph]
For the benefit of those of you who know nothing of the navigator’s craft, I will give a very brief description of the bare essentials. If you pointed a car at a destination on a limitless extent of tarmac, and proceeded at a set speed, you would arrive at that destination,
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and you would know how long the journey would take. Not so in an aircraft. The aircraft is suspended in a moving body of air, and where that air is going, the aircraft also goes, in the same direction and at the same speed, as when you have a goldfish in a bowl of water, so due allowance has to be made for wind speed and direction. “Well, once you know the wind speed and direction - - - - .” All very well, but first you have to find out what it is; then, it keeps changing, so you have to go on finding out what it is. Why does it keep changing? Imagine flying from A to B across an area of low pressure (see digram.) The wind-pattern in areas of low pressure is as shown by the arrows.
[diagram]
A comparison between where the aircraft actually is and where it would be if there was no wind gives the wind speed and direction, but it constantly needs updating.
Furthermore, the speed of the aircraft varied considerably through the air (and so over the ground), depending on height. Air becomes less dense the higher you, so there is less resistance to the aircraft flying through it. And density, of course, varies with the temperature - the warmer it is, the less dense, so temperature had to be taken into account as well. To complicate matters even further, aircraft on operations did not maintain a steady height for long; if they did, it would make matters easier for the Germans - they could inform their night-fighters of the height of the stream, and also fuse all their anti-aircraft shells for that height. So almost all navigating had
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to be done on the climb or descent. This meant that not only was the wind changing because of the particular weather pattern but was also different at different heights, as was the airspeed. So the navigator had to calculate and estimate what was likely to happen, without much hard information to go on.
Of course, on an operational sortie, the bomber-stream approached the target by a roundabout route, never heading towards it till the last few minutes, to keep the Germans guessing. Even then, it might divide say ten minutes before H-hour, and attack two different targets simultaneously, to divide the night-fighter force. There might be five or six different ‘legs’ to fly before reaching the target. Supposing the distance “out” was 600 miles, if you did not arrive within three minutes (early or late) of your allotted time, the Station Navigation Officer would want to know all about it. He would likewise be none too happy if at any time, “out” or “home”, you had strayed more than three miles off track. It was, of course, in your own interest to stay exactly on track – safety in numbers – night-fighters would prefer to catch solitary stragglers out of the main stream.
Pilots had a small route-map with the turning-points lettered, and I often got the query: “Pilot to navigator. Where are we, Wag?” and I would answer, for instance: “Leg[?] C to D, about 1/3 of the way along, on track, half a minute late.” It must have been monotonous for him sitting up there looking out into the darkness, turning as directed, but not having the faintest idea of how it was going or where we were. Although the bomber-stream contained several hundred aircraft, you never saw another one until in the vicinity of the target. You know all about navigation now, do you? Well done. As you appreciate, navigation was not on exact science, but more of an approximation. The art of the craft, if I may so put it, was to reduce the uncertainty and keep it within tolerable limits. Overleaf, you will find a letter taken from Picture Post, a popular magazine of the time, written by a member of a bomber crew, appreciating the navigator’s work.
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[newspaper cutting] The Key Man of a Bomber Crew
I am an American serving with the Royal Air Force, and have been serving since the outbreak of the war. Being a member of a bomber crew, and really knowing what goes on, I’m amazed at the way the British Press, including yourselves (“The Last Hour in a Lancaster,” May 15), refer to certain members of the crew as the “key man.” There is a “key man” in a bomber, but it isn’t the flight engineer, pilot, rear gunner, or wireless operator – it is the man whom Bomber Command refer to as the “key man”, namely, the navigator.
When we are flying over enemy territory, I often look at the other members of the crew (who, by comparison, are having an easy time), and then look at the navigator, who is working from take-off to landing. I realise then that it is from that map-strewn table that my destiny is controlled. The control column may be the nerve centre, but it is the navigation table that is the brain of an aircraft.
An Ally, R.A.F. Station, Somewhere in England. [/newspaper cutting]
To return to Smith, 16 November 1944. Woken 0740 by an airman and navigators were told to report to the Navigation Department for preliminary briefing for operations. This was so that navigators would know the target in advance (being warned to keep their mouths shut about it), and be able to get part of their work done beforehand. This consisted of marking turning-points, drawing in tracks on the charts, measuring the compass bearing of each and the distance, and seeing that everyone was in agreement. Then we had breakfast, at 0920, and went to the Briefing Room at 1000, with complete crews, for the main briefing, attended by the Commanding Officer (Wing-Commander Holford), Navigation Officer, Bombing Leader, Met. Officer, Intelligence Officer and Armament Officer. Afterwards everyone repaired[?] to the locker-room and put on flying gear. This consisted of inner quilted flying-suit, outer gaberdine suit, flying boots lined with lambswool, and parachute-harness. Contents of pockets were handed in, helmet, goggles and oxygen-mask picked up, as well as three pairs of gloves (woollen, silk, and leather gauntlets), microphone and intercomm[sic] lead. I carried the gloves only for use in emergency, in case of fire, and goggles for the same reason. If so desired, one could draw a revolver and six rounds, which I always did. You never knew when it might be needed; one of the great fears was coming down in the target area, where the natives would be vicious, and five rounds could be used on the Germans, the last one being kept for personal use. * So, with all this gear and parachute-pack and navigation bag containing all the necessary equipment (pencils, rubber, ruler, charts, Douglas protractor, dividers, Dalton computer), I repaired to the aircraft (C6A) together with the rest of the crew. We took off at 1250 and did a Radius
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Extract from “The Bomber Battle for Berlin”, by Air Commodore John Searby DSO DFC, published by Airlife Publishing Ltd, 101 Longden Road, Shrewsbury. [inserted in red] COPYRIGHT? [/inserted in red] [inserted] Applied for and granted. [/inserted]
Confidence in the skill of the navigator came only second to that placed in the captain: This aspect of the work of the crew has not always received the prominence it deserves, though somewhat earlier in this narrative I have made the statement that Bomber Command stood or fell by the quality of its navigators; and this is true. To be ‘lost’ over enemy territory was a frequent occurrence in the early days of the bomber offensive, as we have seen, but the consequences were nothing like so frightening as later on when the night sky was stiff with opposition. With a multiplicity of aids available after 1942 and in the context of a streamlined technique with Pathfinders to light the way there and back such incidents were few. However, on some occasions, when windspeed at altitude was unusually high, it could happen and could be damaging in the sense that security of the crew was impaired – seemingly – and those not in the know, such as the gunners, were entitled to feel anxious. We all took the navigator for granted – both captains and the remainder of the crew alike – he had the answers and was expected to produce them at the drop of a hat. A competent and confident navigator was a powerful factor for morale from first to last – courage, determination and the will to press on in the face of flak and fighters was one thing; but only the skill of the navigator could ensure that the effort was taken to the [indecipherable word] spot. The demands on his services were frequent, and we all heard with relief the familiar voice over the intercom on the way home: “Dead on track, Skipper – you should see the coastline in a few minutes – you can start letting down any time now.” A shaky navigator could be an uncomfortable thought in the minds of the rest of the crew – so much depended on him, and whatever the situation he must remain cool and capable of using his head quickly to calculate the new course to get us out of trouble. With punctured tanks, and the fuel running low, a single mistake on his
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part could result in a ‘ditching’ on a winter’s night with a rough sea below: likewise, he could run us over heavily massed defences such as the Ruhr perimeter by miscalculation. When the unexpected arose he was the first to be asked if we were still on the correct track and if not, then why not? Like the policeman – his lot was not a happy one.
And another reference later on:-
Navigators bore a heavy responsibility in getting aircraft to the target. Theirs was an unenviable task, subjected to a constant barrage of noise, working in the worst possible conditions, interrupted occasionally by enemy action and ‘nagged’ not infrequently by requests for information; they were expected to remain oblivious to all external alarms.[?]
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of action. This was necessary so that the whole squadron could set course over base at the same time. In order not to have a lot of aircraft milling about in the circuit at the same time, each navigator was given a track outward from base, towards the NW, each a few degrees different from one another so that aircraft coming back did not collide with any still outward bound. It was up to each navigator to determine his course to fly to maintain that track, and how long to fly it before turning to arrive over base at the appointed time of departure. In this case it was 1340, and the target was Julich, a small town not far from Aachen, only just inside Germany, being used as a supply and transit centre for the front-line forces, so we were not long over hostile territory. Bombing height was low, 10,000 feet. There was a little flak and no fighters. At the same time, a force of Lancasters was attacking Duren, a similar town a few miles to the south. It was an uneventful trip, but very effective, as this clipping from next day’s Daily Telegraph shows:-
[newspaper cutting] Two Rhine Towns Written Off
Photographs of Duren and Julich taken two days after they were attacked by very forces of R.A.F. bombers on November 16 show a close concentration of bomb craters almost without parallel in any previous attack by the R.A.F.
The centres of both these recently fortified towns, which were among the main defences of the Rhine, have been completely destroyed. [/newspaper cutting]
The following day, bombing photographs were on the board in the Intelligence Room. A camera was always operated a certain number of seconds after the bomb-release was pressed and took a photo of the point of impact. Our photo was in the centre, and enlarged, and showed the best strikes of the squadron, 200 yards from the centre of the town.
The second operation took place on 18 November, and was another daylight trip. The target was Munster. Navigators’ briefing was before breakfast, main briefing after. Took off 1245, radius of action, and set course 1325. Flak was light, no fighters were seen. Munster was covered by cloud. Concentration appeared poor on this attack. A word here about target-marking. There were two methods, Newhaven and Wanganui. Newhaven was used when the target was clear of cloud.
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Pathfinder “illuminators” would go in first and drop white flares, by whose light the second lot of pathfinders could identify the aiming-point. As near to this as possible they dropped the appropriate marker-flares. There were several different sorts – red shooting yellow stars, green shooting red stars etc. - and bomb-aimers knew which to look for. This did not give the Germans time to confuse the issue with their own flares some distance away. Most large German targets had decoy sites a few miles away where fires were often lit to simulate and attack, and these did a [sic] times attract a number of bombs. Wanganui marking was used when the target was obscured. Pathfinders dropped parachute flares upwind of the aiming-point, or rather upwind of the centre of the town. These burned for two minutes or so, and bomb-aimers aimed at them. This method was obviously not so precise as Newhaven, but it ensured a good spread of bombs, hopefully in the target area. Flares had to be continuously renewed throughout the attack. Always, some pathfinders were Wanganui-equipped, just in case the target could not be seen. So, after, at briefing, the instruction was: “Newhaven, with emergency Wanganui,” If all else failed, and nothing could be seen, bombs could be dropped by making use of the navigational device Gee. This was accurate to within 1/4 mile or so, and was therefore acceptable for this purpose. The bombsight was not used, and bombs were released on instructions from the navigator. Gee, however, could not be used on distant targets; it depended on signals sent out from England, and was susceptible to jamming. As one proceeded further away from the transmitting stations, the signals became weaker, and more difficult to identify, and on the cathode-ray tube gradually disappeared among all the clutter provided by the Germans. On some raids, a Master Bomber would orbit higher up, watching progress and giving instructions. There was a natural tendency for bomb-aimers to release the load a few seconds early, and this progression led to a “creep-back”, so that the Master Bomber had to advise a change of aiming-point. I heard once an instruction from
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him: “Apple Pie to main force. Bomb upwind edge of smoke.” And then later, when we were on our way home:” Well done, chaps. Now get off home and have your breakfast.”
On return from the Munster attack, Warrant Officer Bruce crashed in collision while waiting to land. After putting all the gear away, crews were de-briefed by specialist officers who took notes on how things had gone, and anything unusual that might have happened, and while this was going on, mugs of thick cocoa were provided, and tots of rum. I always took the rum neat, but there were some who tipped it into their cocoa, and almost unbelievably some who refused it altogether. After this second operation, we went on leave for ten days, during which Bob Thomas, our rear-gunner, got married.
Two days after return, operations were notified, the target being Essen, in the Ruhr. Navigators' briefing took place at 8 p.m., main briefing at 11. Took off 0226, radius of action, set course 0311. Usual route, base - Reading, - Beachy Head – over to France. Arrived over target 2 minutes late, bombed Wanganui flares 0539, arrived base 0823. De-briefing, breakfast, went to bed and slept till 5 o'clock. Heavy flak, some fighters in the target area, and this would be a suitable juncture to digress for a few words on flak. Intelligence knew where the heaviest concentrations of flak were, and aircraft were routed to avoid them, but there was no dodging it on the approach to, and over, the target. Bombing heights usually varied from 21,000 to 18,000 feet, different waves being allocated different heights. The Germans, knowing this, could only spread their shells about, barrage fashion, filling the sky with as much explosive as possible, in the hope of catching someone at random. The greatest concentrations were naturally north, west and south of the target, and it was not possible to avoid them. You could not go over the top because the aircraft, loaded, would not go high enough; you could not go round the outside because fighters lurked there, and anyway everybody would be coming in at different angles, causing collisions galore; you could not go underneath because of the risk of “friendly” bombs falling on you. So the only thing you could do was get your head down and run the gauntlet hell for leather through the middle, hoping that nothing
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had got your name on it. I only looked out twice over the target; it was like a fairground on Saturday night – target indicators, fires burning, photo flashes going off, anti-aircraft shells bursting, searchlights. After that, I just didn't want to know, preferring the scholarly calm of the “office.”
Here, I attach an account of the briefing for the Essen raid; you will see how much intricate organisation went into planning an attack. [account missing]
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Following the briefing and report on the operation, there are notes on some of the many devices used to outwit the Germans. References to “Window” may need some explanation. These were strips of metallised paper, cut to the wavelength on which German radar operated; each strip gave off briefly an echo on their cathode-ray tubes, the same as an aircraft did, with the result that their screens were hopelessly confused and it was impossible to pick out individual aircraft. It was first used in the fire-storm attacks on Hamburg, and vastly reduced flak casualties. There were two sorts, the broad and the narrow, the second working on night-fighter frequencies. Here is a strip of the narrow. [inserted]
The following night, there was an operation on Duisburg (docks and transport.) It was an uneventful trip. Took off 1640, radius of action, set course 1714. Base – Reading – Beachy Head – France – Duisburg. Surprisingly, flak negligible, no fighters. Bombed 2006 on Wanganui flares, arrived back at base 2340, supper, and into bed 0100.
The next operation was two nights later, on Hagen, in the Ruhr. Set course 1814. Over Reading, the port inner engine failed, so we went NE and jettisoned the bombs in the North Sea beyond Flamborough Head, and returned to base.
On Monday 4 December, there was a short local trip, down to Derby, followed by a blind bombing run on York, using H2S. A further word about H2S here. It was quite accurate on a fairly large target (provided it had been positively identified first – not much use though in a large conurbation such as the Ruhr.) The bombs were released on instructions from the navigator. I did not like using H2S for any purpose, and steered clear of it except in case of necessity. German fighters were known to home onto its transmissions, so I left it switched off as far as possible.
At this juncture, it would be appropriate to digress for a while (with your kind permission, of course), and describe briefly the modus operandi
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of the German night-fighter force. The ever-increasing activities of Bomber Command forced the Germans to withdraw large numbers of fighters from other fronts, so there were plenty of them about, mostly in Holland, northern France and western Germany. The single-engined types were Me 109’s and FW 190’s; the twin-engined were Me 110’s, Me 210’s, a small number of the later Me 410’s and most effective of all, Ju. 88’s which started out early in the war as bombers but were later converted largely to night-fighting. The single-engined aircraft operated on a system which the Germans called “Wild Boar”; they were vectored onto the bomber-stream and left to their own devices, to find and attack as best they could. The twin-engined operated on the “Tame Boar” system and came under close control from the ground; they were also equipped with radar, so that once they latched onto a target they were hard to shake off. The two standard methods of evasion were a violent “corkscrew” or a violent diving turn to port or starboard. Knowing that its presence had been detected, a fighter would often go and try its luck elsewhere, trying for a more unwary victim.
Now, if you had taken the trouble to read that list of various devices in the plastic envelope a couple of pages back, you would have noticed the one called Mandrel. Aircraft of 100 Group (Counter Measures), usually Stirlings (which were not fit for bomber operations because they could not get up very high), flew a “race-course” pattern out in the Channel, jamming the German Wurzburgs, which were long-range radar detectors. The Germans therefore knew that a raid was pending, but did not know where the main force would emerge from behind the screen. So they had two radio beacons a long way from each other, called Otto and Ida, and fighters orbited these beacons waiting for the main force to manifest itself, and when It did, half of them anyway were in the vicinity. It became the practice for the R.A.F. to insert a Mosquito among those orbiting these beacons, and he might be lucky enough to get a couple before they rumbled what was going on, and dispersed. At any rate, it made them nervous and threw them out of gear. This operation was known as a Mahmoud. There were many other operations designed to
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deceive and disrupt - a Mosquito would lurk near every fighter aerodrome, and catch fighters taking off or returning to refuel. “Spoof” raids would be taking place by smaller forces on widely-separated targets, or just several aircraft dropping target-indicators and then nothing else happened.
In the second half of 1944, the Germans hit upon the most effective way of dealing with a bomber once it was found and identified, so simple that it is amazing it was never thought of before, and it was a long time before anyone twigged what was happening. Early in the war, more aircraft, notably Wellingtons, had a turret underneath, but the fitting of these was discontinued, so there was no protection from below. Two tail-warning and downward-looking radars, Monica and Fishpond, were fitted, but these were removed when it was found that the Germans were homing onto them. Realising that they had a clear field from underneath, the German Fighter, invisible against the dark background below, would gradually increase its height until it was some 150 to 200 feet below the bomber, with the bomber silhouetted against the lighter sky above and its exhaust flames clearly visible. On the same course and at the same speed, the bomber was a sitting duck. German twin-engined fighters had a cannon sticking out through the roof, and the gunner could let rip with a no-deflection shot. They always aimed for the starboard wing-tanks, not the fuselage where there would be a risk of detonating explosives on board. Having thus set the aircraft on fire, they departed in reach of other prey. They carried no tracer among their ammunition, so that there was no give-away, and a bomber seemed to others round about just to catch fire for no apparent reason.
To return to Snaith. On Tuesday 5 December, the warning was given at 1130 for operations that night, the target being Soest, on the eastern edge of the Ruhr, which meant flying all the way round the industrial and heavily-defended complex. Main briefing 1415, out to aircraft, back for alterations to the flight plan, out to aircraft again, took off 1700 and set course 1800. Arrived over target 2 minutes late. Bombed on Gee, as the bombsight was unserviceable. Flak heavy over Hamm on the way in, light over the target. Arrived back at base 0200, a nine hour trip. Four
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aircraft went missing on this attack.
The following night, operations were laid on against Osnabruck. Took off 1600, set course 1625. Down to Reading at 2,000 feet, and saw Henley on the port side on the way. Passed over Reading bridge when workers were on their way home and the lights of vehicles were clearly visible. The sky was full of aircraft heading S.E. Climbed through icing cloud, proceeded on time over France and so to the target, one of the first aircraft in. Bombed on Gee. Out north over Holland, arriving back at base 2210, a six-hour trip. Flak very heavy over target. Eight aircraft missing from this attack.
The next day we did dinghy-drill in a reservoir, very cold, wet and muddy. On the 9th we did a practice flight, three simulated bombing runs of York, followed by practice-bombs on the range. On the 10th, roused at 0245 for operations, but cancellation came through after main briefing, the target being Bielefeld (presumably the viaduct.) This was laid on again next day, but cancelled again when everybody had got their flying-kit on. On the 12th, an operation was laid on against Essen. Flight-planning 1200, main briefing 1330. Took off 1600, set course 1620, bombed on Wanganui flares 1939, and arrived back at base 2200. Heavy flak in target area, as was to be expected over the Ruhr. Six aircraft failed to return. On the 15th, an operation was laid on against Dortmund, but later cancelled.
On the evening of the 17th December, briefing took place for an attack on Duisburg at 2230, then we had supper. Took off 0300 on the usual route via Reading and Beachy Head, and out over France. The weather deteriorated rapidly, wind velocity rose to over 100 knots, and the meteorological forecast was very wrong, so that the main force became widely scattered. Tried to make up a bit of time by cutting corners, but nevertheless arrived over the target seven minutes late. No marker flares were seen - with that wind velocity they would not have been much use, so we bombed using Gee. Soon after turning for home, we were set upon by a twin-engined fighter, which was driven off three times by our gunners. There followed a short interval when he seemed
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to have gone elsewhere, but such was not the case.
Here, I will digress once more (“what, again? Oh, all right then, if you must.”), and consider the possibility of surviving a tour of operations, I have already indicated that they were not very great. A tour consisted of 30 trips; average losses about 4%, therefore after 25 trips, a man was statistically dead, and therefore again the average man could expect to last 12 or 13. Some of course went on their first and some on their thirtieth, and obviously you needed a lot of luck on your side - it was not so much a matter of skill as of luck - a flak shell could catch any crew, no matter how skilful. As to the attitude of aircrews in general, there was a certain amount of fatalism involved, induced by the perithanatic situation in which they found themselves. I hope you will bear with me while I explain perithanatic for the benefit of lesser mortals than yourself. It comes, of course, from the Greek “peri” meaning ‘around’ (perimeter, peripatetic, periscope), and ‘thanatos’ meaning ‘death’ (euthanasia), and psychologists say that when in this situation there is an acceptance of what is going to happen and it ceases to worry. Personally, I never saw in others any evidence of fear - apprehension, yes, but not fear. When I say that the average man could expect to last 12 or 13 trips (i.e. rather less than half a tour,) this is borne out by the overall statistics of Bomber Command for the whole of the war - some 100,000 men flew with Bomber Command, and 57,000 were killed (i.e. rather more than half.) Today being Remembrance Sunday, I am reminded of a remark by Richard Dimbleby, commenting on the service at the Cenotaph: “Those that took the wings of the morning, or set their course by the stars into unimaginable dangers - - -.” The hazards were well enough known, though, “and their name was legion, for they were many.” - flak, fighters, mechanical malfunction, icing, cumulo - nimbus clouds and lightening, base fogged in on return, shortage of petrol, collision, fire, to name a few. In church the preacher, Canon [deleted] one indecipherable word [/deleted] [inserted] Hartley, [/inserted] an ex-prisoner of the Japanese, said: “I wonder how long Remembrance Day will go on. Until, I suppose, there is nobody left who remembers.”
To return to the situation in which we found ourselves. After
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three or four minutes there was a series of rapid thumps from the starboard wing, and almost immediately the Flight Engineer said: “Wilf, we’re on fire.” I looked back from my position down in the nose, and could see that there was a roaring mass of flame where the wing-root joined the fuselage and that the situation was obviously beyond control - burning petrol swilling in from the tanks, round the oxygen bottles, which would explode in due course. There was only one thing to do, which was to get out, and that right speedily, because one of two things was going to happen in a very short time - either the tanks would explode or the main-spar would melt and the wing would fall off. So even before the order came to abandon the aircraft, I was already buckling my parachute pack onto the harness. My seat, on springs, folded itself against the starboard wall when I stood up; I kicked away the legs of the navigation table, which folded itself down onto the port wall, leaving an open space on the floor with the escape-hatch in the middle. This was the way out for the three of us in the nose - myself, bomb-aimer and radio-operator. The mid-upper gunner would use the entrance - door half-way back down the fuselage, but the turret was difficult to get out of, and it took time. The rear-gunner would swivel his turret and drop out over the end, but again the turret was not easy to get out of, and furthermore his parachute pack was stored in the fuselage outside the turret. The pilot and flight-engineer would use whichever exit they could get at most quickly. I opened the hatch, raised it above the vertical, lifted it off its hinges, and dropped it through the hole. I then sat on the forward edge of the hatch and dropped through. A few words of explanation about how the parachute harness was designed. The pack was clipped onto two buckles on separate straps which came down from the shoulders and were attached to the main harness-straps by two pieces of string. The intention was that when the parachute opened, the string would snap, the pack would swing upwards, and you were left suspended from the shoulders. As I dropped through the hole, though, the pack
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caught on the rear edge, snapping the string, so that by the time I was in free fall, the pack was way up above my head, and to make matters worse the release-ring was facing backwards, so that I had to scrabble about to find the release-ring behind the back of my head. It was a relief, therefore, when there was a violent jerk as the parachute opened, and I was safely on the way down. The aircraft had been at a height of 14,000 feet, and the descent would take about 1/4 hour. After a few seconds, there was a whoomph as the tanks blew up, and I did not know whether anybody else had got clear. There were flashes of light and a rumbling in the distance, which I took to be thunder, but realised later were anti-aircraft fire, also, it was raining hard. As a factual observation, and with no intent to blow my own trumpet, there was no feeling of fear or panic in me - fear only comes when one has an alternative, and in this case there was not one, there was only one thing to do - rather a feeling of annoyance that when I got down I was going to be caught and stuck inside for the rest of the war. One of the advantages of being the navigator was that I had a pretty good idea of where we were; I knew we were over the British side of the lines, but knew also that there was a strong westerly wind which would probably carry me back inside Germany. If you take an average wind-speed on the way down of 80 m.p.h., I was going to drift some 20 miles. It was about 6.30 a.m., and still dark - perhaps just a hint of daylight - “dawn’s left hand was in the sky” (Omar Khayyam) - so I could not see where I was going to land, and in fact plunged down through branches of a tree and hit the ground. The advice was that when you landed, you were supposed to roll your parachute up and hide it. I realised that this was not on, as it was draped over the tree; furthermore, it was an apple - tree in the back garden of a house, and the curtains in one of the bedroom windows parted and a face peered out. So I took off my life - jacket, dumped it, and went down the side path and out of the front gate. Turning left, I heard the sound of marching feet approaching, so I turned right, and in a few minutes was out of the village and in open country. It was now getting light, and the thing to do was to find concealment wherein to [deleted] ly [/deleted] lie up for the day. Soon I found a wood of fir trees, and took
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refuge. First, judging by the sound of gunfire from the west, I knew I was in fact inside Germany. Then I examined the contents of my evasion-pack. This was a flattish plastic box, slightly curved to fit inside the thigh-pocket of a flying suit. It contained a map on silk, razor, rubber water-bottle with a packet of Halazone water-purifying tablets, energy tablets, Horlicks tablets, barley-sugar and chewing-gum, also a small compass of about 1” diameter. And there was a small slab of nut toffee.
My clothes were by this time wet through, and it was cold as well, so I did not have a comfortable day. Set off walking south, as soon as it was dark, keeping clear of the roads and going across country, over ditches full of water, through fences. The intention was to walk into France where I might make contact with the Resistance, and knowing the language would be a help. At daybreak, heavy rain came on again. Hid in a small fir plantation, after taking off wet flying-suit and boots, but could not sleep due to cold and general discomfort. Children with their mother and a couple of dogs passed within a few yards of me, but apparently did not see me. I ate three Horlicks tablets, one piece of toffee and a piece of barley-sugar, which I planned to be my ration for two weeks. It was a bad time of the year for evasion, there being nothing in the fields in the way of berries, fruit or vegetables. I drank from streams or troughs, using the water-bottle and purifying tablets. Set off again at dusk and walked till about 4 a.m., then came across a barn and stepped inside. As soon as it was properly light, I saw that there was a loft full of hay, with a ladder leading up to it, so I went up there, took off wet flying-suit and boots, stuffed them with hay, burrowed well down, and went to sleep. Not that stuffing them with hay did any good – they were still wet and cold when I put them on again. Pushed on again when it was dark, over the waterlogged fields. At daybreak I saw what appeared to be a dilapidated farmhouse, and I approached it with the intention of sleeping therein. It was occupied though; a middle-aged woman came out, and must have recognised me for
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what I was. Obviously, though, she was not in any position to cause trouble; I followed her inside and made sure there was nobody else in residence. She indicated I was to sit at the table, and gave me a few small apples, two slices of bread and two cups of coffee. It was by now broad daylight, so after leaving, there was not time to look for a good place of concealment[?]; the best I could do was a copse with wet brambles in it, so I hid up there for the day, although it was only half a mile or so from the farmhouse and one could expect the German woman to alert the authorities. There was not much sleep that day because I kept waking up with severe cramp, induced no doubt by wearing wet clothes for so long. I decided it was no use going on south, the distance being too great, so I turned back north towards Holland. The reasoning was this :-
[diagram]
There was no way of getting through the lines by going due west – anyway, the River Rhine was in the way, and that would be well-guarded. However, the British advance northwards into Holland had been very rapid, and looked like continuing, so I thought I would head NW round the corner in the lines and either hide up or maybe fall in with the Dutch resistance until the fighting moved on further north. An outside chance, but any chance is better than none.
That night, 21 December, it rained hard again. Towards dawn, I wandered about looking for somewhere dry to sleep. Stayed for a while in a shed beside the road, then it stopped raining so I carried on for another three miles. Found a stack of loose straw, so I dug some out and made a cubby-hole in the side, climbed in and went to
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sleep for the day. Got out at dark, put on flying suit and set out again. That night, it froze, and my flying-suit, being wet, froze stiff and the zips would not work so I could not get at my ration-pack. Suffered pains from cramp again. Walked all night, breaking ice on puddles to drink from. By this time, for various reasons all added together, I was getting light in the head and not thinking very clearly. I came to a railway embankment and climbed up. When I got onto the track, I thought: “This is stupid, all I have to do is walk along till I come to a station and get a train home.” So I turned left and walked along the track for about 20 minutes; seeing the lights of a station ahead, and hearing voices, brough me to my senses, so I got down off the track and pushed on. At daylight, bedded down in a partly-cut wood of fir trees. American bombers passed overhead. Pressed on again at night, and without thinking what I was doing, went through a village instead of skirting round it, as usual. At the far end, there was the click of a rifle-bolt, and a voice: “Halt, wer da?”, so I knew that was the end of my run. “Englische flieger,” I said, and the reply came: “Hande loch[?]”. I had run into a sentry-post. The soldier approached and indicated with his rifle that I should go into the post, which was a dug-out about ten feet square, entered by going down some steps. In it, there was a table, a chair, a bench, and it was heated by a wood-burning stove and lit by a pressure-lamp. The sentry was an oldish chap, well-meaning and obviously not one to make life difficult – he didn’t want any trouble, and I was in no state to give him any anyway. I patted the chest of my flying-suit and said: [five foreign words] and he indicated I should put it on the table, meanwhile keeping me closely covered with his rifle. He indicated also that anything else in my pockets should be put on the table. After that, the atmosphere became less strained, and he provided me with a bowl of soup. Then, seeing my clothes were wet, he told me to take them off and he hung them in front of the stove to dry, giving me his
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blanket to wrap round myself, and indicating that I should lie down on the bench and go to sleep. In the morning he permitted me to shave, using the razor from my evasion-pack, and then gave me a slice of bread and some of his meat-paste. As I said, not a bad old chap at all. By this time, his relief had arrived, and being apprised of the state of affairs, went to fetch another man. With this new man and the old original guard, I walked 8 km. to a fighter aerodrome at Alpen. This was on Christmas Eve. I was taken into the Officers Mess and subjected to all sorts of questions (but not of an operational nature) by those gathered therein. None, as it happened, could speak English, but one spoke French, and he translated for the rest. He asked how many times I had been over Germany, and when I said “eight”, he said that was nothing, he had been over London 66 times. They were interested in my flying gear, and also in the contents of my evasion pack. They gave me some of their dinner, which was a sort of spaghetti bolognese, but I was shunted aside into an alcove to eat it on my own. I was then handed over to their Service Police and made to sit on a stool in the middle of the room, watched over by a surly individual with a rifle. After several hours of this, my back ached, so I moved the stool against the wall, but an outburst and rifle-waving indicated I should stay where I was put. That night, I slept down in a warm cellar, locked in.
The next morning, that is on Christmas Day, I left Alpen with one guard; we walked five kilometres, then got a lift in a car to the nearest station and went by electric train to Dusseldorf. This was one of the R.A.F.’s main targets, and was much knocked about. On the platform I noticed a rat-faced little man going from person to person, talking to them and indicating me with a nod of the head. A few started drifting in my direction, and I didn’t like the look of things at all, but the guard saw what was happening as well and unshouldered his rifle, which caused them to lose interest. Bomber-crews were known throughout Germany as terrorflieger – (terror-flyers), which
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I used to think was unfair, as we were only going about our lawful business, and I don’t suppose German Airmen considered themselves as terrorflieger when they were bombing English towns. On the other hand, one can understand the attitude of civilians. The carpet-bombing of German towns was aimed at breaking the will of the nation as a whole to continue the war, by means of terror and destruction – any factories, military installations or transport facilities were a bonus unless they had been specially pinpointed for attack.
We waited for an hour in the waiting-room, then got a train to Frankfurt-am-Main, via Hagen and Giesen; Giesen had at one time been subject to attack, as the sidings were littered with smashed goods-wagons. It had started to snow by this time, and it was bitterly cold in the train. Civilians sitting opposite were much interested in the nature and qualify of my flying-gear, especially the boots. On detraining at Frankfurt, we walked a few km. to the Aircrew Interrogation Centre at Oberursel and I was handed in to official custody. My flying-gear was all taken away, except for the boots, and I was shoved into a cell in solitary confinement. The cell measured about eight feet by four; there was a bench along one wall with a blanket, a small barred window high up, and a light which never went out. There was a radiator below the window which came on at times during the day, but was off at night, so that it was hard to sleep because of the cold, and to make matters worse, footwear was taken away at night. There was a spyhole in the door, and beside the door, a handle. To go to the toilet, one pulled this handle, which caused a signal-arm to clang down in the corridor outside; this brough along a guard who escorted one back and forth. Outside each cell was a box containing sheets of toilet-paper; the first time, I took two sheets, but it was made very plain to me that the standard ration was just one. Hard luck on anyone who happened to be suffering from a common prisoner-of-war complaint known as the squitters or
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screamers. The daily allowance of food was four slices of bread, one plate of soup and two cups of warm weak coffee without sugar or milk. I presume the object of this solitary confinement, without seeing any one else and with absolutely nothing to do was a sort of weakening-up process, to make one more willing to talk when the time came for interrogation. It didn't bother me a lot, though, as I have always been somewhat solitary by nature.
After two days, I was taken out in the evening and up to a comfortably-furnished softly-lit room, smelling richly of cigar smoke, where an officer started off with general small-talk, then came to Air Force matters. The Geneva Convention states that all a prisoner is obliged to do is give his number, rank and name, which I did. He asked how long it was since I was shot down, and I saw no harm in answering that correctly, but when he said “That would be the night of an attack on Duisburg”, I thought I had said quite enough, and when he asked about squadron number and type of aircraft, I said: “You know I can't give details such as that, sir.” He persisted for a while with other questions, then gave up, and I was taken back to the cell for another couple of days, returning to the same interrogation room and interrogating-officer as before. This time, the approach was somewhat different. He began by remarking on the fact that I wore no identification discs. There were two of these, one round red one and one oblong green one with the corners clipped off. The were made of some sort of fibre, and the red one was fireproof. They were normally worn round the neck, but the string on mine had broken the day before the last flight, and I was intending to renew it when I got back. The dialogue went something like this:-
“There are two things that worry me about you, Sergeant Wagner. Here we have one single man in R.A.F. uniform who cannot, or will not identify himself, and who moreover claims a German name. How do I know you are who you say you are? Some details of your last flight might help to clear things up.”
(I could see what he was getting at – a veiled threat – but I
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explained the matter of the identity-discs, and said I could say no more.) He continued: -
“The second thing is that here we have an airman who has been wandering about in Germany for six days, claiming to have been shot down, but we have no others of the crew, and to crown it all, no wreckage of an aircraft that he came from. How do you explain this?”
“I jumped out over Holland and drifted back into Germany on the way down. Presumably the aircraft disintegrated over British-held territory.”
“Well, as it happens, Sgt. Wagner, I know more about you than you think. You come from 51 Squadron, Snaith, flying Halifaxes. The Commanding Officer is Wing-Commander Holford, and.....”(He went on to name the Navigation Leader, Bombing Leader and Signals Officer.) “You see, I have had other crews from 51 Squadron, and they have said more than you are saying. Now, what I would like to know are what operations you have been on, and what was your route and height to Duisburg. And what was the bomb-load.”
“The bomb-load was no concern of mine – I don’t know what it was. The height varied continually, and I can’t remember the exact routeing. Even if I could, the Geneva Convention only permits me to give Number, Rank and Name.”
At this stage, he desisted, and I was returned to my cell. I was roused at 2 a.m. and given a piece of bread and a cup of coffee. Departed 4 a.m., and walked with about fifty others, mostly Americans, to the station. Waited about for two hours in the cold, then went by train to Wetzlar, not a long journey, about two hours. Marched 4 km. to a camp, searched, given a P.O.W capture-parcel, and allocated a billet in a room of 3-tier bunks containing some 20 men. The Capture-parcel was a small fibre suitcase containing pyjamas, towel, socks, shaving-kit, soap, darning-holdall, toothbrush and toothpaste, comb, chocolate,
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and pipe and tobacco or cigarettes, and came by courtesy of the Red Cross. I dumped this on my bunk, stood up, and recognised the man in the bunk above. This was John Trumble, whom I had done some of my training with in South Africa, and we remained together through the hard times that lay ahead. His face lit up, and he said: ”Waggie!” and I said: “Hello John. A right old turn-up this isn’t it?” He had no other members of his crew with him either, so we teamed up. We spent six days altogether at Wetzlar, which was what would be called, I suppose, an Aircrew Disposal Centre, always cold and hungry, and that took us over into January 1945.
I stayed together with John through many difficulties for the rest of the time in Germany and returned to England with him. I stayed with him for a few days in the summer of 1945, then unfortunately we lost touch with each other, as so often happened in those days. It should not have happened, but it did. I often wondered what had become of him, and after writing the above, resolved to make a determined effort to find him. I knew his address was, in those times, Pottene Park Farm Devizes, but he had no connection with the farm, just lived in a rented cottage there. I thought of writing to the present occupier of the farm, asking him to send my letter on if John was still local, or perhaps he could look in the local telephone directory and see if he was listed. Then it dawned on me – “Phone directory, that’s it”, the library in Wisbech having directories for the whole country, about sixty of them. So I waded through some forty directories, and found several A. Trumble’s, but by a bit of good luck John always used the whole three Christian-name initials, A.H.J., and I located him in a village near Truro. If his name had been Smith or Jones, this method would not have been practical, of course.
There follow now some extracts from a diary I kept at the time, with some notes where further explanation is necessary.
5 Jan. 1945. Posting-lists up in the mess-hall. I am going tomorrow with John to Stalag Luft 7, Bankau, Silesia.
6 Jan. Marched down to station in the afternoon, after being searched and given
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a packet of chewing-gum each. Entrained in 2 cattle-trucks, 25 to a truck. One Red Cross parcel between 2 issued for journey. Half the truck occupied by guards.
7,8,9 January, on the train.
10 Jan. Detrained 0800 and walked up to the camp through deep snow. No greatcoats. Searched. Got a billet with John, & we got organised in a combine with 2 others for food-parcels and meals. Filled a paillasse with wood-shavings.
11 Jan. 1 Red cross parcel per man per fortnight promised, and reasonable German rations. First parade 0915 & the other at 1615. Quite a good library. Snow on the ground all the time, and very cold. Got greatcoat. Walked round perimeter track occasionally.
14 Jan. Went to church service in the evening. (The camp padre was an Army officer, Captain Collins. Air Force padres were, in the nature of things, unlikely to be captured. Captain Collins was a remarkable man, but more of him later. A very large proportion of prisoners attended church services, not I think because there was nothing else to do but because a belief gave a man something to hold onto in difficult times.)
One evening, there was a Russian Air-raid in the vicinity of the camp. I had just put margarine and honey on a slice of bread when the sirens went and the lights were put out, so I put it down on a stool and went to look out of the window. When the lights came on again, no bread. Accusations of theft, but everybody denied responsibility. Then I saw a mangled piece of bread stuck to the rear of another man’s trousers. I scraped it off and ate it.
18 Jan. Warned to be ready to evacuate the camp as the Russians were getting close. Packed case, packed as much food as we could, and wolfed the rest. I was ready to carry case, food parcel, and blanket wrapped round neck. Had to wear flying-boots as no ordinary ones were available. (These were lambswool lined, loose-fitting, and not designed for walking.) Very close Russian bombing. Sleepless night, as we had to be ready to move off any minute.
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(By this time, I had been issued with this identity-tag, and was officially “on the books.” In the event of death, the lower half was broken off and kept for records, the other half was buried with the body.)
[inserted]
19 Jan. Departed 0500 in bitter weather, after hanging about in the cold for a long time. Marched all day, 27 km. to Winterfeld. Had to eat snow as no water was available. spent the night wedged in a very small barn – hardly slept at all.
20 Jan. Wakened 5 a.m. and set off again. Marched all the morning, 12 km. to an abandoned brick-factory at Karlsruhe. Warm and dry. Had something to eat, a brew of coffee, then went to sleep. Feet very bad with blisters, so tied boots on with wire. Started dragging case inside the lid of another abandoned one, towing it along with a bootlace. Much kit jettisoned by the side of the road. Left 2000, as the Russians were getting close again. Marched without stopping all night.
21 Jan. Crossed the Oder 0500 – bridge mined, ready to blow up. Stopped in a village, but no accommodation was available, so pressed on another 5 km., making 41 km. in all (i.e. 25 miles). Many chaps dropped out during the night because of bad feet and exhaustion. Arrived Barrkwitz 1100. Got bed-space in a barn and had something to eat. A bull charged in scattering everybody. When it was ejected, went to sleep.
22 Jan. Roused 0300, as Russians were still pressing on Issued with a few carraway biscuits. The Germans had a bit of a job getting the chaps moving again, and there was some shooting. Pushed on 16 km. to Jenkwitz, arriving at noon. Moved some cattle out of a barn and got a bed-space organised. Warm, but very damp and smelling strongly of cattle. Ration 1 cup of coffee, 1/2 a biscuit and marge.
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(Coffee issued by the Germans was made of acorns roaster and ground up, and with milk and sugar from Red Cross parcels was not too bad at all.)
23 Jan. Left 0900. Marched 25 km. to Wassen[?]. Small bread issue and 1 cup of soup.
24 Jan. Spent the day at Wassen[?] trying to get some rest.
25 Jan. Left 0600 and marched 27 km. (17 miles) to Heidersdorf.
26 Jan. Stayed the day at Heidersdorf. Ration 2/5 of a loaf, and marge.
27 Jan. Left 1100 and marched 24 km. to Pfaffendorf, arriving at 1700. Small barn, wretched cramped bed-space, underneath a ladder – grain falling down from above all the time. Made up a double bed with John.
28 Jan. Left 0400; did 22 km. to Stansdort, in bitter weather, a fierce cold wind and driving snow. (You could rake your finger-nails down your face and not feel a thing, a real blizzard.) Arrived noon, dead-beat. Ration 4 biscuits and ½ cup of soup. (The German soup was watery in the extreme. There were two varieties – a) made from shredded dried turnip, and b) a less popular variety made from a very dark green cabbage of some sort, like spinach, known to the consumers as Whispering Grass, after a well-known song at the time.) Cold uncomfortable bed-space. Left 1830, still dragging case – nothing jettisoned. Collected 2 packets of hard biscuits (8 in all) outside a town after 3 km. Walked all night through a fierce blizzard – heavy snow, roads sometimes blocked, so had to clamber through drifts. Much transport abandoned. Many more chaps dropped out during this night.
29 Jan. Very heavy going. Slow halting freezing march. Arrived Peterwitz 0200 in an exhausted condition. Got a good warm ample bed-space; made a double bed with John and turned in, too tired even to wait for soup from the field-kitchen.
30 and 31 Jan. Spent at Peterwitz, resting.
1 Feb. Left 1000 and did 17 km. to Prausnitz.[?] Snow thawed half way, so had to start carrying case, and found it very heavy. Small dirty farmyard, absolutely crowded. However, got a good dry bed-space upstairs
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in a barn, by a water-cistern. Much brewing of coffee and porridge on fires in the farmyard. Soup twice a day from the field-kitchens.
[underlined] 2, 3, 4 Feb. [/underlined] At Prausnitz. On the evening of the 4th, issued with marching rations – 1/3 loaf, 1/3 tin of liver-paste, & some margarine. Although you could not style our progress as “marching” – we shambled along in a dejected shabby column, with German guards along the sides accompanied by Alsations.
[underlined] 5 Feb. [/underlined] Roused 0400; left 0700 and did 7 km. to Goldberg. Slight rain. Stole some sugar-beet along the way and gnawed at it. Packed into cattle trucks at the station, 55 men to a truck, and locked in. (These trucks, common on the continent, bore the legend 40 hommes, 8 chevaux, so we were well over the limit. There was not even enough room for everyone to sit down. There was a small barred window in each corner, also one large tin for toilet purposes. The vicinity of this tin was not rated very highly.) Travel slow, with many long halts of 7 to 8 hours.
[underlined] 6, 7, 8 Feb. [/underlined] On the train. Very hungry. Ate some spoonfuls of flour, barley and sugar mixed, from a cocoa tin. No water. Bought a crust of bread from Eddie, which he found beside the track, for tobacco.
9 Feb. Arrived at Luckenwalde, 23 miles S.W. of Berlin, 0800, feeling very weak. Marched 5 km. up to the camp, Stalag IIIA. Much hanging about. Brewed coffee. Queued up all the afternoon and had a hot shower. Got a billet with John – not too bad a position, on the floor on wood-straw, underneath a window. Warm and light anyhow, and room to stretch out. Porridge and potatoes from the Germans and a cup of soup from our own field kitchen.
10 Feb. Changed into pyjamas and washed dirty clothes. Had a shave.
11 Feb. German rations 1/6 loaf, 5 potatoes, 1/3 litre of soup, and German tea in the morning and evening. (This tea was a herbal mixture, and with milk and sugar made a reasonable drink. A count was held in the mornings early, to find who wanted their tea brewed and who wanted the mixture dry, to smoke – it was just like herbal tobacco. The potatoes were grown in a field near the camp, the crop being fertilised with the contents of the latrine (or “abort” in German), and were boiled in their skins.)
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[Newspaper cutting from “The Prisoner of War” dated May 1945, detailing the journey of prisoners to Stalag Luft VII and the conditions in Stalag IIIA, Luckenwalde]
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12 Feb. Wrote home. (This letter, however, did not arrive.) Bad attack of dysentery, which made me even weaker – nearly everybody had it. (This was brought on by eating raw or undercooked food, insufficient bulk, the freezing conditions of the march, and by general weakness and lack of resistance. For the first few days at Luckenwalde, everyone just lay on the floor, listless and apathetic, except for occasional dashes to the abort – not everyone made it in time!)
14 Feb. Usual day, weak with hunger and dysentery.
16 Feb. and thereafter, a succession of wretched days, very little food. Listened to BBC news brought round and read out daily in each barrack block, received on an illicit radio. This was known to the Germans, but they failed to unearth the set. Anyway, even if they did, there were others in reserve. Shaved and washed once a week. Two roll-call parades in the freezing cold every day, between 30 minutes and an hour each.
[photograph of the bunks]
Three-tier bunks of the type encountered at [indecipherable word] prison camps such as Bankau. At Luckenwalde we just lay on the floor.
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[photograph of ‘feeding quarters’]
Feeding-quarters for a “combine” of six.
[photograph] Luckenwalde. Bringing up one barrock-block’s daily ration of soup. The tub was known as a “keevil”. Blankets airing on the barbed-wire. [/photograph]
This was not the outer perimeter of the camp – there was the no-man’s land of some 50 yards, then the proper fence interspersed with towers (known as “goon boxes”) occupied by machine gunners. The term “goon” was used slightingly of all Germans, named after a comic-strip of the time – The Goons were a stupid shapeless lot of sub-humans. All
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Germans were treated with contempt by R.A.F. Prisoners.
[photograph of prisoners exercising}
Prisoners from the “cooler” at exercise. The usually got there for insulting the guards.
[photograph of soldiers in compound]
American compound. The Americans were late arrivals; all the huts were occupied, so they were accommodated in tents.
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[photograph of soldiers cooking]
Americans operating their cooking-stove, known as “blowers” or “Smokey Joes”, worked by means of a forced-draught propelled along a tunnel by a fan. All made from good-tins and pieces of wood. John's and my Smokey Joe stood on a base detached from over the doorway to the abort. The abort, by the way, was in a long hut, wooden box-like structures, perforated at suitable intervals, over a deep trench, and accommodating about 30 people. It was a social meeting-place and the centre for gathering and passing on rumours.
27 Feb. On fatigue. Slept last night fully dressed because it was so cold. Up 0600, in the dark, collected keevil and went down for tea. Parade. Breakfast. Another parade for blanket inspection. Had a wash and shave in cold water in a dirty wash-place. Afternoon roll-call 1700, then a Red Cross parcel issue, one between four, which greatly improved morale. Shared it out and had some real food. Then the sirens went and the lights went out, so turned in.
Parcel issue was not usually as convenient as this – it was often one between seven or one between nine, which made sharing difficult. Some people made nearly all the contents of their parcels into a sort of solid cake, known as “glop”, but we preferred to use one item at a time.
In 1982, I went to a Stalag Luft 7 reunion at Nottingham,
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and this is the menu and address to those present. Note the amounts stated in the menu, maintaining the tradition of difficult share-outs. How do you share six prunes between ten?
[menu missing]
Klim was dried powdered milk from American Red Cross parcels. The Limburg fish-cheese is worthy of note. It came in wooden
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boxes which, when opened, revealed about twenty oval flattish cakes covered with some sort of skin, and gave off an appalling stench. The only way of eating this delicacy was to strip off the skin, liberally douse the content with pepper and salt, hold your nose, and consume the cheese with the utmost despatch. There were not many takers, so there was plenty for those with stomachs strong enough to take it, but over-consumption could precipitate an attack of the squitters.
A few other items from this programme:-
Amongst the “sporting activities”, we find Louse Hunting. Lice thrived in the crowded insanitary conditions. If you have not had the privilege of encountering any, they were flat dirt-grey insects, hard-shelled – if you squeezed one between your fingers, it had no effect. The lurked in the seams of clothing, so had to be winkled out and crushed between thumb-nails, and there was a little spot of blood if they had recently fed. They carried, of course, the germs of typhus, and the Germans were always much perturbed to hear of increased infestation – any plague would have swept like wildfire through the camp, and while I don’t suppose the effect on prisoners would have worried them a great deal, it would eventually have affected the Germans themselves.
Dog-walking to Kreuzberg. Kreuzberg was the nearest town, and any prisoner requiring dental or medical treatment had to walk there, accompanied by a guard and the inevitable Alsatian.
Goon-baiting, which accounted for the majority of the inmates of the “cooler”, and was a popular sport aimed at making the Germans feel uncomfortable. I don’t think it took place much in Army camps, as soldiers were used to taking orders and doing as they were told, but aircrew were more rebellious independent spirits inclined to follow their own dictates. In a bomber-crew, for instance, the pilot was the captain, and any decision must ultimately be his, but he rarely had to give orders; in case of necessity, he took advice from the appropriate crew-member, a specialist who knew more than he did, weighed up the advice and then made his decision, but it was more a matter of consensus than orders. Goon-baiting usually consisted of telling the Germans that their country was finished, in ruins, that
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they had been misled, and that things were going to be tough for them. Ferreting came into the same category of making the Germans feel uncomfortable and inferior. A ferret was a member of the camp staff who prowled around looking for illegal activity, and was dealt with by the “duty pilot” system. The airman on duty, accompanied by a runner and a tail, would take up position at the entrance to the compound. When a ferret appeared, his name and time of arrival would be written down, making sure that he knew what was happening. The runner was sent off to go into each hut and call out : “Goon in the block”. The “tail” followed closely behind the ferret, making his presence felt. If the ferret turned round and remonstrated with him, he melted away into the crowd and a replacement took over. The object of all this was to inform the Germans that the compound was our preserve and that they only came in under sufferance.
And now a tribute to Captain John Collins, the Stalag Luft 7 padre. Read again the paragraph that describes him; every word is true, but words alone cannot do him justice. Where most of us were trudging along, heads down, concerned only for ourselves, he would appear at different parts of the column, sometimes speeding up, sometimes slowing down, so that everybody had a share of inspiration from his company. I can picture him now, face reddened by the blizzard, always cheerful, always optimistic, his arm round the shoulder of a man beginning to despair, carrying his gear for a little way as well as his own, then a pat on the back and off to find someone else. And the man he had just left thought: “If he can bloody well do it, so can I.” Truly a “man among men”, and I am sure his inspiration did save lives.
I kept some record of day-to-day events while at Luckenwalde, on odd scraps of paper: here is one such, written on the end-paper of a library-book, and making the best use of available space: -
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[pencilled notes indecipherable]
and on another scrap, a drawing of a Halifax; John, being a Lancaster man, asked me to do it so that we could see the differences between the two types:-
[pencil drawing]
MH were the identification letters of 51 Squadron.
16 March. Germans cut rations to potatoes every other day, 1/6 of a loaf a day, and half margarine and sugar rations.
21 March. Cold. High wind blowing dust all over the place. Difficult day for Smokey Joe – cut up a Klim[?] tin and made a windshield for him. Issue of 1 American Red Cross No. 10 per man – prunes, chocolate
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peanut butter, tuna, plum jam, Camel cigarettes. 3 wrapped chocolate for raisins. News good today – Worms, Ludwigshafen, Neustadt and Homburg taken. Germans in chaos all along the line.
24 March. Twenty-two today. They’ll probably be thinking of me at home and wondering what sort of birthday I’m having. (There had been no news for them from 19 Dec. to 6 March, so they had only heard less than three weeks before.) Shifted dirty straw from bedspace and burned it, in response to an anti-typhus purge by the Germans, so we lay on the bare boards thereafter.
27 March. Issue of the dreaded Limburg fish cheese. Got a bundle of wood from a Russian for 2 cigarettes. Diphtheria broke out in our barrack – block – enforced gargling the opening of windows.
30 March. Good Friday. Washed, shaved, & put on hair-grease. (This was an issue of an evil-looking black grease, much resembling axle-grease, which it may well have been. Goodness knows why they issued it.) Cleaned shoes. Parade by main gate 0920 for church – The Seven Words from the Cross, by Captain Collins.
2 April. Day dragged interminably. Made some prune jam, but it was cold and windy, a bad day for Smokey Joes.
5 April. Issue of 1 American Red Cross No. 10 per man. One more and they will all be finished – time to tighten belts again. Destruction of German rail-system and rolling-stock by the R.A.F. prevents supply of more parcels.
11 April. This evening, it was announced that a partial evacuation from Luckenwolde would begin tomorrow. All officers going, & N.C.O.’s from Barrack 3 and 33 from Barrack 7. John and I volunteered to be among the 33 because we thought the others might not get transport and would have to march. Packed kit and shared our food for carrying; we had a whole case full of tins of food stored up, a little from every parcel.
12 April. Called out to move off after soup 1100. Much checking and roll-calls. Search, just before which we had to get cracking in a hurry and puncture all our tins. Nothing taken, except they took one of John’s blankets. Marched down to Luckenwolde station. We had our
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blower[?] with us – John insisted on bringing it, and just outside the station we set it down and had a hot brew, which was very welcome although it was a hot day. Issue of 40 cigarettes per man. Entrained in cattle trucks, 40 per truck. Stole porage[sic] oats from a nearby train. (Looking up through the floorboards of a truck, we saw sacks inside. On being slit open with a knife, a steady stream of oats came through a wide crack, which was much appreciated by those in the vicinity.) Sleeping-space cramped, but I have been in worse. Very hot and stuffy – no ventilation.
13 April. Up 0600 & brewed up. Had bread, then stewed prunes. Talk by Wing Commander in charge of the party. Bombing of the line down at Treuenbrietzen means we can’t leave here for some time. BBC news read out during evening, also it was announced we go back to camp tomorrow.
14 April. Up 0600. Porridge, thin bread. Results of trading with German civvies – ½ loaf, 2 onions, 6 eggs, 30 saccharine tablets, and 4 lbs of potatoes for 65 cigarettes and 2 bars of soap. Marched back to camp and got organised in our same barrack. While we were away, 2 R.A.F. chaps shot trying to climb the wire – “stir-crazy”, I suppose.
17 April. Issue of 1 parcel between 2. That is the last now. Water turned off nearly all day.
18 April. News good today. Our advance appears to have slowed down, but the Russians have started a big push on the Berlin front, and are doing well. Organisation going ahead for running the camp ourselves when the Germans leave.
20 April. Bombing of Potsdam and Wriezenburg[sic] by U.S. heavies. Lovely fine day. Clouds of smoke over target. Made out a list of food in stock and rationed it to last 5 weeks. This evening there was a feeling in the air that something was going to happen, but there was no definite news. Russian artillery plainly heard, red glows in the sky.
21 April. Heard German staff moving out with lorries, tractors and cars during the night. Not called out on parade this morning. A few German guards still left, but not many. Russian tank crews brought in – short imprisonment for them. Looting of German staff quarters, but not much to be had. Prisoners record-cards from the camp offices were distributed – here
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is mine:-
[blank page]
Dull rainy day. Wing Commander Beamont[?] (who later became chief pilot for English Electric, and was in charge of test-flying Camberras and Lightnings), announced that the Germans had left, the camp was surrounded, and the Russians were fighting in Luckenwalde and Juterbog last night.
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22 April. Slept fully dressed last night in case we had to make a dash for the trenches. French and British flags flying at the gate, and a big red Russian one over the cookhouse. White flags at intervals round the perimeter barbed wire. At 1030 Russian tanks and lorries arrived in force. All the Russian prisoners were given rifles and moved out straight away, anxious to kill Germans. (Russia was not a signatory to the Geneva Convention for treatment of prisoners of war, and they had a terrible time of it in the camp, almost starved or worked to death. The same treatment was accorded to German prisoners held by the Russians.)
Artillery duel just outside the camp in the evening, between Germans hiding in a wood and a party of Russians.
[pencilled notes indecipherable]
The next few pages are photo-copies of the part of Wing Commander Beamont’s[?] book The War in the Air, which deals with the liberation of Luckenwalde.
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THE WAR IN THE AIR
then came the end in Europe. For some it was sudden: the nights suddenly quiet because no engines had to be tested for the dawn; the days suddenly long because they knew there would be a tomorrow. But for others, in the prisoner-of-war camps, it was a more drawn-out affair.
THE LONG LIBERATION
10th April. After weeks of better and better news, and of resigning ourselves to waiting for a few more weeks until final liberation, strated [sic] by our fighters, it will be an amazing stroke of fortune (and I know well enough what 20-mm can do to trains). However should this move come off, my policy will be to try and stay behind with the sick. This is the allied target area – not Munich.
Two days ago we saw a Mosquito release a cloud of leaflets overhead at about 20,000 feet. Intelligence reports that the contents are telling Russian prisoners-of-war that they will be liberated within ten to fifteen days.
The Russians have been literally starved by the goons and are dying in dozens of TB. The hospital is crammed with them. We had collections of food which we can hardly spare for them. Meanwhile great preparation of emergency food. Am fairly well off this time. One lives and learns. Over and above the Red Cross parcel I have acquired six chocolate bars, a tin of fish and three pounds of chocolate pemmican by judicious trading during the past weeks. So even without food from the Germans I should have nearly two weeks food at a bare living rate. In addition I have just traded a blue sweater and a pair of Jack Sharkies for two boxes of prunes, value 2s. 6d. But two days' food.
Midday. Germans announce officially that we move tomorrow. Have sent name in as unfit to travel – this is only partially true. But one risk is as good as another and I prefer this one as a fat better chance of liberation.
11th April. We have informed the Germans that this move is being carried out entirely without our co-operation. The only possible reason must be that we are intended to be held as hostages in the last stronghold in the mountainous area of Munich.
3 pm, Thursday, 12th April. After another night of tension, the camp was marched out to entrain for the incredible journey through the battle area to Munich this morning. As a notable change from the normal practice the move took place to the endless accompaniment of 'bitte,' absolutely no 'Raus! Raus!” at all.
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Even more amazing, my scheme has come off. I have been left behind with the sick bods against all the advice of the well-meaning older kriegies who were, I think, suffering from a surfeit of sour grapes. This was the best chance, and now, not three hours after the main party had gone, comes the news that the allies have cut the Magdeburg – Berlin autobahn. They could be here tomorrow.
The suspense is something of which I have never experienced the like. Waiting for a big low-attack show is a tea party in comparison! Atmosphere is electric.
The German officer on appel said, when I asked permission to remove a partition in a block for a new camp office: ‘One does not start a new building at five to twelve.’ At least they know the form.
The main party was still reported at the station, having spent the night in the trucks waiting for an engine which the Reichbahn [sic] people think is unlikely to materialise.
At 9.30 pm we received word that the boys were coming back as transport is impossible. Tank spearheads are reported at Brandenburg, Wittenberg – thirty miles from here – north of Halle and Leipzig. We are directly in front of the three-pronged thrust, and nothing short of fantastic ill-fortune can prevent our freedom in the next few days.
Saturday, 14th April. We worked late into last night trying to repair the damage in the blocks, caused by the departed kriegies themselves. In seven barracks there was hardly a serviceable bed. After appeals we received about fifteen per cent assistance in the big job of making sure that the returning boys would have at least a place to sleep. It is galling, the number of men who are not in the least concerned about the welfare of their friends and think only about themselves.
Still, somehow we arranged things and this morning the first party came in at 10 am, to the accompaniment of clapping and cheering from the Poles, and a loud chorus of ‘Hey, hey, the gang’s all here!’ from the Americans, accompanied by a trumpet, a violin and a mouth organ.
During yesterday’s appel we held a two minutes’ silence at attention in memory of Roosevelt who died yesterday. Particularly effective as the Americans were not on appel at the time, and remarkable
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because the company of German guards, who had paraded and were about to march off, remained at attention with us.
Reminder that the Germans are still in control came last night when two RAF NCOs attempted to climb the wire at the eleventh hour. One attacked a sentry with a bottle and was shot and killed. The other wounded. Bloody fools.
15th April. Terrific raid on Berlin suburb about twelve miles north of here last night. Made London show seem quite insignificant. Incredible din and display. Patton has a security blackout on the drive across the Elbe at Magdeburg. It is fifty miles away and is heading for us. Groups of kriegies stand in the compound all day staring south-west.
The atmosphere has more than expectancy, however, as the abort, always unsavoury, has sprung a leak.
Today’s big tragedy – I sat on my pipe and broke it.
Monday, 16th April. Tantalising news that the camp at Magdeburg to which the remainder of Luft 3 were sent from Sagen, has been liberated intact! When will our turn come?
Tuesday, 17th April. Another great Fortress raid passed over this morning. Mustangs and Thunderboirs [sic] are constantly in sight. Every thud and explosion, every flash of light in the sky is taken to be an indication of the advancing Americans.
Stalag II A consisting of some 4,000 Allied soldiers was evacuated into this area last week and, having arrived, had nowhere to go. They are living in the open, with no food supplies and no medical attention, and are in a tragic condition. The SBO sent our last reserve of Red Cross parcels to them yesterday together with two doctors and drugs.
Four hundred Russian sick were suddenly taken from our camp yesterday for destination unknown.
Wednesday, 18th April. Day after day, rumours add to the tension. The Russians are advancing fifty miles to the east, the Allies form miles to the west and south, but we are still here! The new optimisty [sic] has not borne fruit and now there is a new situation: no more Red Cross food.
Thursday, 19th April, night. The strain of boredom of the last few days was relieved at midnight when the Wing Commanders were routed out for a meeting with the SBO. His office was crammed with
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a circle of figures crouched round the table upon which lay a map of the area and two guttering lamps. He told us that the Russians had broken through south-east of us, were less than thirty miles away, and that the Germans proposed to march the whole camp unit of 4,000 prisoners-of-war in hostile country with no destination and no supplies of food or drugs, and most probably no shelter. The whole district is a battle area and such an action on the part of the goons cannot but have tragic results.
Friday, 20th April, morning. Still no further action by the Germans. We have our remaining food stocks packed and ready. Whether we go or stay, there will be no more food in a week’s time. With the possibility of freedom nearer than it has ever been, the chance of getting the chop is rather great. But to hell with the war! The only course is to relapse into one’s normal state of mental rigidity and sunbathe.
Saturday, 21st April. The most amazing day of my life. All night fires raged, guns thundered, and cannon shattered and at dawn a violent tank battle took place at Luckenwalde. Juterbog, twelve miles to the south, is in flames. FW 190s are ground-strafing within sight at all times. In short we are in the front line.
(By now most of the German guards had deserted, leaving the prisoners in charge of their own camp).
We are in the most critical of all stages now. Nearly free but without news of relieving forces, and in this country of brutality and horror anything might happen yet.
We know that the Russians are all round us. Perhaps they will be here tomorrow. I win £30 if they are. It is grand to have a job again. Quite a strange thing using a telephone!
Hell! An FW 190 has just strafed the whole length of the camp. I must go and see if there have been casualties.
Midnight, and no casualties. The organisation is almost complete. Amazingly enough the telephone network is operating and I have a set in my temporary office-cum-bedroom now. Very tired, have checked and arranged pickets on the of the NCOs’ compound.
Sunday, 22nd April, midday. Russians are here in force. Fighting all round. Local tank commander’s attitude is very brusque and dogmatic. I don’t think they like us very much. Tanks charging up and down have torn up our communications and in places the wire.
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The French are hysterical, the British a little less so, and the Norwegians are calm. The Americans are reported only a few miles away. I hope they get here before this comedy becomes a tragedy.
At long last the Red Air Force’s close support Aira-Cobras, Yaks, and Stormoviks fly above us. So do the Luftwaffe, putting up a brave show to the last. It was fascinating to watch a silver dart of a Messerschmitt delta jet dive straight down on to a formation of forty Fortresses, then Bang! bang! and a Fortress fell away while the Me 163 shot straight up into cloud.
In another scrap two Me 109’s shot down three out of twelve Aira-Cobras without loss. The Aira-Cobras were flying in formation under cloud. I caught a glimpse of the 109s as they dived straight astern, shot down two of the Cobras, and whipped up into cloud leaving the rest of the formation running round in circles wondering what had happened. Farther on the Me 109s came down again through another hole in the cloud and destroyed the third Aira-Cobra. They suffered no loss themselves.
1 pm. The Russians depart leaving us in temporary control. They have brought up a quantity of flak already, so it seems as if the area is nearly stabilised. However there are still plenty of bangs, and plenty of great unneighbourliness in this area.
The news announces tanks penetrating deep into Berlin.
Evening. Violent fighting in the woods to the north. Shells whistling and screaming overhead, and 109s dive-bombing the autobahn. The Russians have added heavy flak to their set-up here. The din is fantastic. More fierce fighting on the boundaries and cannon-strafing by Junkers 88s. Two Serbs and a number of Russians killed in the fighting round the camp. Violent action between a Russian tank and Germans as it left the main gate. The Russians seemed to win. They have taken General Ruge with them to fly him to Moscow. This leaves the SBO as the senior Allied CO.
(Undated.) Told officers and pickets to dissuade the men from going through the wire if possible, but if told to ‘b------- off’, to ‘b-------- off’ promptly and avoid incident. Then talked to the chaps in the blocks and reported to the SBO. Suggested that all compounds should be open, giving free circulation throughout the whole camp but within the wire. Bed at 2.30 am. Strafed by a Ju 88 at 4 am. Cannon shells all over the shop but fortunately no casualties.
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[typewritten script from The War in the Air]
1945
8 am. Another direct threat to officers. Three sections of the wire cut away and Army NCOs loose. The RAF hanging-fire though pretending to follow Army lead. Walked into each barrack and addressed the men. Think I put the position over and am more certain than ever the trouble is due to just one or two bad characters. At one point nearly used the SBO’s authority to throw the worst types into the cooler, but steered clear. Am sure freedom of circulation within the whole camp would ease the situation.
This is the worst couple of days in my experience without exception. The feeling of the possibility that we might lose control of a mass of desperate men, under condition of front-line war and artillery shells, machine-guns, rifles, aircraft cannon and bombs going off all round, is inclined to be unpleasant. I think we can hold our own, but it is not a comfortable position.
Russians killed off four German wounded hiding in the woods. Nice people!
Stormoviks and Yaks in great numbers today. They seem to operate well on their side of the front! Dog-fights between four Aira-Cobras and one Me 109 overhead this afternoon. The Russians seem to weave violently at all times. The Yak is a good little fighter in the Spitfire class.
Our pet Junkers 88 low-strafed us with front guns again in the moonlight. Plenty return 20-mm fire from the town. Very interesting to be at the other end for a change. I admire these Luftwaffe boys for carrying on to the grim end.
A Russian patrol found four French POWs in a house outside the camp with some women. Russians shot and killed the Frenchmen for refusing to obey an order. They probably wanted the women for themselves.
Our own trouble has died down for the moment. We have averted a riot I suppose, but in actual practise discipline as such is gone.
Wednesday. Still no Americans. This waiting is tricky. Plenty of food now when at odd moments I can find time to eat. Yesterday I had my first hot drink and a meal of bread and rhubarb at 3.30 pm. The Russians are giving us all they can. Very friendly now and much back slapping, but no respect.
Thursday. Situation tense again in my compound. NCOs are not the
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slightest bit prepared to meet the officers half-way, and are quite certain that we are there to make life unpleasant.
In all this turmoil the thought that we are no longer in fact prisoners-of-war and should be home soon is difficult to grasp and is not in the least exciting.
Saturday. So ends this demoralising week of passing on and handing out orders that one knows perfectly well will not be carried out. Held a roll parade to check ration strength this morning. The men took a lot of persuasion and diplomacy to turn out for that. Last night the news of a link-up between the Americans and Russians at Torgau cheered everyone immensely. The later report that a jeep bearing three American war correspondents had been seen on the way to Berlin should do much to settle the present unrest.
Watched a Mig shoot down a 190 in four short bursts. Very pretty.
Wednesday. Ten days since the Germans left. One of the biggest battles we have seen is now raging on the north-east and northern borders of the camp. Rifle and tommy-gun fire is incessant and mortar duel is in progress with us in no-man’s land. The radio has announced the release of all camps taken by the Americans and British, but has said nothing of us. Our people must be worried. So are we.
Thursday, 1800 hours. The first Yanks in the camp. Two war correspondents in a jeep from the lines at Magdeburg. They are taking taking Beatty, our press correspondent, back with them tomorrow and he will fly to Eisenhower’s headquarters with our records. Maybe things will start moving. All the boys want to push off west and are doing so in increasing numbers. I would be right with them if I hadn’t this damned responsibility. Wrote a brief note home and put it in the jeep. It might get through.
Friday. Sunshine. Many more people walking west. Two hundred of the men from this compound alone walked out yesterday. The position is intolerable. We can and should march the camp west to the Elbe with of course the Russian’s approval. The Americans are at Wittenberg. Only thirty miles away – one day or so on a bicycle.
1600 hours. American colonel from Davescourt headquarters here, said our evacuation starts at once! Trucks arriving tonight and we shall be flown home. Can it be true! Shall we, shall I be out of this country of death and home in England? It is almost too much to expect.
Wing Commander ROLAND BEAMONT’S dairy,[sic] quoted by EDWARD LANCHBERY
It was too much to expect. The Americans sent the trucks, the Russians sent them back. It was another two weeks before they got home.
[/typewritten script from The War in the Air]
[page break]
Enclosed below is an account of the last days at Luckenwalde from my own point of view, and the journey home.
[pencilled notes indecipherable]
On one of our private forging parties, John and I fell in with some Polish prisoners who had been employed at the factory making V1 flying bombs. None of us could speak the other side’s language, so everything was done by signs. We went back to their billet with them, and they produced enamel mugs and bottles of spirit, looking like lemon-barley water, which we gathered was fuel for the flying-bombs, and must have been almost pure alcohol. Some was poured on a table, a match applied, and it went “whoomph.” We imbibed a fair quantity of this, and were soon blotto. We staggered back to camp and sagged down to sleep it off; woke up with a raging thirst and had a drink of water. This had the effect of re-activating the spirit, setting the whole
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[pencilled notes indecipherable]
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business in motion again, so we were back in square one.
I see “Stinger” is referred to here and there. This was Staff Sergeant Nettell of the Glider Pilot Regiment, the senior N.C.O. in our hut, and something of a comedian. Rumours were rife towards the end, our prisoners were somewhat apprehensive about what the Germans might have in store for them. One day, Stinger came into the hut, called for silence, and announced: “Everyone in this hut – is to parade outside in five minutes time – to march down to the stores – to draw picks and shovels – to dig their own graves.” I thought: “So it’s come to that, has it?” There was a stunned silence for a moment, then laughter broke out – Stinger and his jokes again!
The Russians were very reluctant to let us go, and our impatience mounted. American army lorries arrived on 6 May to take us away, but the Russians sent them away empty. The next day, prisoners started off trickling away on their own, walking westwards, and John and I set off in a part of about a dozen. After walking about 7 miles, we met another convoy of American lorries heading for the camp. One of them picked us up, turned around, and set off towards the west, finishing up at a P.O.W. reception centre at Schonebeck, in what was a Junkers aircraft factory. So on 7 May we were once again in safe hands. The war officially ended the next day with unconditioned German surrender.
11 May.
Embarked in lorries and proceeded via Magdeburg and Brunswick to an ex-German fighter aerodrome at Hildesheim. Had a hot shower and a de-lousing. In the latter operation, an orderly put the nozzle of a large syringe down the front of one’s trousers and sent a blast of DDT round the interior. Assigned to an aircraft party. Got a Red Cross parcel containing soap (toilet, tooth and shaving), shaving-brush razor and blades, 2 handkerchiefs, tooth-brush, face-cloth, toilet-bag, 50 cigarettes and ½ lb of chocolate. Soup, bread, coffee and a K-ration for tea.
12 May. Called out to the aerodrome after breakfast. A steady stream
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of Dakotas was coming in, filling up and taking off again. Took off 1600, flew over the devastated areas of the Ruhr, and landed at Brussels 1800. Tea and biscuits from the Naafi waggon. Transported in lorries to 42 R.H.U. at Louvain, about 12 miles out. Deloused once again.
13 May. Taken back to Brussels Airport in the afternoon, got aboard a Dakota and flew back to England via Ostend and the Thames Estuary. Landed at Wing, near Aylesbury. Deloused yet again – they must have thought those lice were pretty hardy characters, to have survived two previous assaults. After more tea and biscuits, transported to Bicester aerodrome, where we stayed the night. Bacon and egg, bread and marmalade, for tea.
14 May. Train to Cosford, near Wolverhampton. Given new uniform and kit, went through documentation, give ration cards and leave passes, and pay. Medical exam.
15 May. Left late in the afternoon, travelled through the night, and arrived at Reading 0430. Two hours to wait for a train to Twyford, and another ½ hour for one to Henley. When I arrived home the rest of the family were still in bed and I had to knock them up.
The following letters are in order, as received by my mother. The original telegram has not survived, but it read: “Deeply regret to inform you your son Sgt. H. Wagner failed to return from an operational flight over enemy territory this morning. Pending receipt of written notification no information to be given to the Press.”
* Letters on page numbered 90 onwards.
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[newspaper cuttings relating the heroism of the aircrews of Bomber Command]
[page break]
[Three newspaper cuttings on Bomber Command – the third worded as follows:]
The campaign fought by Bomber Command was the longest and the most sustained in British military history. It lasted from September 1939 to May 1945. It cost the lives of 57,000 of its aircrew – Britons, Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders, South Africans – a total which represents well over half of all those who flew on operations. Nowhere else was the casualty rate so high, perhaps because nowhere else was battle joined with the enemy on such a continuous and relentless scale.
They were all young men, all highly-trained. They came to England from all over the Empire, to volunteer for and to create the last Imperial force there would ever be. In the darkest days they were a symbol that ultimately their world would triumph, whatever the cost. They were a special breed, on a special crusade, and possessed it seemed of a special courage. They did not ask to live, but only to win.
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51
in charge, rumours were rife, and prisoners were somewhat apprehensive about what the Germans might have in store for them. One day, Stinger came into the hut, called for silence
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89
of Dakotas was coming in, filling up and taking off again. Took off 1600, flew over the devastated areas of the Ruhr, marvelling at the damned good job we had made of it, and landed at Brussels 1800. Tea and biscuits from the Naafi waggon [sic]. Transported in lorries to 42 R.H.U. At Louvain, about 12 miles out. De-loused once again, tea, and turned in.
13 May. Taken back to Brussels Airport in the afternoon, got aboard a Dakota and flew back to England via Ostend and the Thames Estuary. Landed at Wing, near Aylesbury. De-loused yet again – they must have considered the lice pretty hardy characters to have survived two previous assaults. After more tea and biscuits, transported to Bicester aerodrome, where we stayed the night. Bacon and egg, bread and marmalade, and tea.
14 May. Train to Cosford, near Wolverhampton. Given new uniform and kit, went through documentation, given ration cards, leave passes, and pay. Medical exam.
15 May. Left late in the afternoon, travelled through the night, and arrived at Reading 0430. Two hours to wait for a train to Twyford, and another 1/2 hr. for one to Henley. When I arrived home, the rest of the family were still in bed, and I had to knock them up.
There followed several days of seeing old friends and places again, writing to parents of the rest of my crew, playing golf, servicing motorcycle and generally relaxing and feeling glad to be home again and to be able to wander as I pleased. The following letters are in order as received by my mother. The original telegram has not survived, but it read; “Deeply regret to inform you your son Sgt. H. Wagner failed to return from an operational flight over enemy territory this morning. Pending receipt of written notification no information to be given to the Press.”
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90
No. 51 Squadron,
R.A.F. Station,
Snaith,
Nr. Goole,
Yorkshire.
Reference:- 51S/801/251/P.1.
18th December, 1944.
Dear Mrs. Wagner
It is with the deepest regret that I have to confirm the news already conveyed to you by telegram to-day, that your Son, 1604744 Sergeant H.W. Wagner, failed to return from an operational flight over enemy territory this morning.
Your Son was acting in his capacity of Navigator in an aircraft which took-off during the early hours of this morning to deliver an attack on a target at Duisburg, and I regret that nothing was heard of the aircraft or its crew after the time of take-off.
The loss of this crew is a sad blow to all of us here, particularly so in the case of your Son, who was looked upon as one of our outstanding Navigators, and who commanded the respect of all. We cherish the hope that he and his companions may yet prove to be safe and well, though prisoners of war.
Your Son's personal belongings have been gathered together by the Station Effects Officer and forwarded to the R.A.F. Central Depository, who will send them on to you in due course.
I would like to add that the request in the telegram notifying you of the casualty to your Son was included with the object of avoiding his chance of escape being prejudiced in case he was still at large. This is not to say that any information is available, but it is a precaution which is adopted in the case of all missing personnel.
Please accept the deepest sympathy of myself and all the Officers and Men of the Squadron.
Yours Sincerely
H.A.R. Holford
Wing commander, Commanding,
[underlined] No. 51 Squadron, R.A.F. [/underlined]
…./Over.
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91
AIR MINISTRY,
(casualty Branch),
73-77 OXFORD STREET,
LONDON, W.1
22 December, 1944.
Madam,
I am commanded by the Air Council to express to you their great regret on learning that your son, Sergeant Henry Wolfe Wagner, Royal Air Force, is missing as the result of air operations on 18th December, 1944, when a Halifax aircraft in which he was flying as navigator set out for action over Duisberg [sic] and failed to return.
This does not necessarily mean that he is killed or wounded, and if he is a prisoner of war he should be able to communicate with you in due course. Meanwhile enquiries are being made through the International Red Cross committee, and as soon as any definite news is received you will be at once informed.
/If
Mrs. J. E. Wagner,
14, Western Avenue,
Henley-on-Thames,
Oxon.
[page break]
If any information regarding your son is received by you from any source you are requested to be kind enough to communicate it immediately to the Air Ministry.
The air Council desire me to convey to you their sympathy in your present anxiety.
I am, Madam,
Your obedient Servant,
Charles Evans
98
[photograph]
A photograph of the cemetery in Holland, sent to me a few months after the war by Mrs Worthington, mother of our mid-upper gunner.
[photograph]
A close-up of the crew's graves before proper head-stones were fitted.
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89
of Dakotas was coming in, filling up and taking off again. Took off 1600, flew over the devastated areas of the Ruhr, marvelling at the damned good job we had made of it, and landed at Brussels 1800. Tea and biscuits from the Naafi waggon [sic]. Transported in lorries to 42 R.H.U. At Louvain, about 12 miles out. De-loused once again, tea, and turned in.
13 May. Taken back to Brussels Airport in the afternoon, got aboard a Dakota and flew back to England via Ostend and the Thames Estuary. Landed at Wing, near Aylesbury. De-loused yet again – they must have considered the lice pretty hardy characters to have survived two previous assaults. After more tea and biscuits, transported to Bicester aerodrome, where we stayed the night. Bacon and egg, bread and marmalade, and tea.
14 May. Train to Cosford, near Wolverhampton. Given new uniform and kit, went through documentation, given ration cards, leave passes, and pay. Medical exam.
15 May. Left late in the afternoon, travelled through the night, and arrived at Reading 0430. Two hours to wait for a train to Twyford, and another 1/2 hr. for one to Henley. When I arrived home, the rest of the family were still in bed, and I had to knock them up.
There followed several days of seeing old friends and places again, writing to parents of the rest of my crew, playing golf, servicing motorcycle and generally relaxing and feeling glad to be home again and to be able to wander as I pleased. The following letters are in order as received by my mother. The original telegram has not survived, but it read; “Deeply regret to inform you your son Sgt. H. Wagner failed to return from an operational flight over enemy territory this morning. Pending receipt of written notification no information to be given to the Press.”
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90
No. 51 Squadron,
R.A.F. Station,
Snaith,
Nr. Goole,
Yorkshire.
Reference:- 51S/801/251/P.1.
18th December, 1944.
Dear Mrs. Wagner
It is with the deepest regret that I have to confirm the news already conveyed to you by telegram to-day, that your Son, 1604744 Sergeant H.W. Wagner, failed to return from an operational flight over enemy territory this morning.
Your Son was acting in his capacity of Navigator in an aircraft which took-off during the early hours of this morning to deliver an attack on a target at Duisburg, and I regret that nothing was heard of the aircraft or its crew after the time of take-off.
The loss of this crew is a sad blow to all of us here, particularly so in the case of your Son, who was looked upon as one of our outstanding Navigators, and who commanded the respect of all. We cherish the hope that he and his companions may yet prove to be safe and well, though prisoners of war.
Your Son's personal belongings have been gathered together by the Station Effects Officer and forwarded to the R.A.F. Central Depository, who will send them on to you in due course.
I would like to add that the request in the telegram notifying you of the casualty to your Son was included with the object of avoiding his chance of escape being prejudiced in case he was still at large. This is not to say that any information is available, but it is a precaution which is adopted in the case of all missing personnel.
Please accept the deepest sympathy of myself and all the Officers and Men of the Squadron.
Yours Sincerely
H.A.R. Holford
Wing commander, Commanding,
[underlined] No. 51 Squadron, R.A.F. [/underlined]
…./Over.
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91
AIR MINISTRY,
(casualty Branch),
73-77 OXFORD STREET,
LONDON, W.1
22 December, 1944.
Madam,
I am commanded by the Air Council to express to you their great regret on learning that your son, Sergeant Henry Wolfe Wagner, Royal Air Force, is missing as the result of air operations on 18th December, 1944, when a Halifax aircraft in which he was flying as navigator set out for action over Duisberg [sic] and failed to return.
This does not necessarily mean that he is killed or wounded, and if he is a prisoner of war he should be able to communicate with you in due course. Meanwhile enquiries are being made through the International Red Cross committee, and as soon as any definite news is received you will be at once informed.
/If
Mrs. J. E. Wagner,
14, Western Avenue,
Henley-on-Thames,
Oxon.
[page break]
If any information regarding your son is received by you from any source you are requested to be kind enough to communicate it immediately to the Air Ministry.
The air Council desire me to convey to you their sympathy in your present anxiety.
I am, Madam,
Your obedient Servant,
Charles Evans
98
[photograph]
A photograph of the cemetery in Holland, sent to me a few months after the war by Mrs Worthington, mother of our mid-upper gunner.
[photograph]
A close-up of the crew's graves before proper head-stones were fitted.
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99
[photograph] Some of the graves. This photo was taken about 1982 by Mrs. Worthington's daughter, Joan.
In 1989, I saw a notice in “Airmail” inserted by a man who had visited Venray and seen the graves of 12 R.A.F. Men. He named them, and offered to send photos to relatives. I told him the names of my crew and the circumstances that led to their being there, and he sent me the following photographs.
[photograph] Warrant Officer W.A. Bates, pilot.
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100
[photograph] Flight Sergeant L.G. Roberts, Bomb-aimer.
[photograph] Sgt. E. Berry, Flight engineer
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101
[Photograph] Sgt. T.W. Worthington, Mid-upper gunner.
[photograph] Sgt. R. Thomas, Rear-gunner.
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102
Shortly after the war, I applied to join the Caterpillar Club, membership of which is limited to those who have saved their lives by means of a parachute. The club was founded by Leslie Irvin, who invented the modern parachute.
[inserted] Membership card to the Caterpillar Club. [/inserted]
In the middle of June, I went to stay for a couple of days [inserted] with John [/inserted] and his long-time girl-friend (now his wife) Vilna. They lived in a cottage at Potterne Park Farm, Devizes, Wiltshire. A very pleasant visit it was, the last time but one that I saw them for 44 years. But more of that later. We lost touch; it shouldn't have happened, but this sort of thing often did.
My leave expired on 11 July 1945, and I returned to Cosford. This was only for a few days, for the purposes of medical examination, documentation and getting fitted out in full kit. It was a time of unease, restlessness and doubt. I knew only one other person there, Frankie Sedgewick, who had been with John and me at Barkau and Luckenwalde. He was a great virtuoso on the piano and the accordion; although he could not read music, he knew all the tunes, and had a wonderful sense of rhythm. Before we left Barkau for the march, he had become the possessor of a beautiful accordion, thanks to the Red Cross. On the point of departure from Barkau, he slashed it with a knife, tears streaming down his face, and said: “I can't carry it, and those bastards aren't having it.”
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and said: “I can’t carry it, and those bastards aren’t having it.” He had been a member of a Stirling crew, shot down dropping supplies at Arnhem. The aircraft belly-landed on a road, skated along it and ground to a halt. The crew evacuated – Frankie into a ditch on one side, the other six into a ditch on the opposite side, all under fire. The six were on the British side and got away; Frankie was on the German side and got pulled in.
By the 15th of July, I was back on leave again, until the end of August. I spent those six weeks working on harvesting at Dick Green’s farm, playing golf, going swimming, and generally having a relaxed and leisurely time among friends. The war with Japan ended after the dropping of the two atom-bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki on August 6th and 8th, as it was all over. On 29 August I reported to R.A.F. Wittering and remained there for nine days, but there was nothing much to do and no real reason for being there – the only purpose it served was to demonstrate to us that we were in fact still in the Air Force. Then there was a 48-hour pass, for which I went home, then back to Wittering again, then off on leave again.
In October, I went up to Liverpool to stay with Mr. Roberts, father of our bomb-aimer. While there, we went to visit the Worthingtons before returning home a few days later, but it was not long before I was back there again, for a fortnight this times, and the affair made good progress. It looked as if this might be it.
I applied for early release from the R.A.F. so as to continue my degree course at Reading University; this was granted, and I was demobilised shortly before Christmas, ready to start at the university again in January 1946.
This would seem to take us to the end of the crosswind leg, and it is now time to turn onto the downwind leg. This one is the longest of all the legs of a circuit, and the most peaceful. Everything should be organised and running smoothly; there is nothing of any urgency requiring to be done, and one may proceed with dignity and decorum towards
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the next turning-point, meanwhile watching the world go by.
[underlined] DOWNWIND LEG. [/underlined]
In January 1946 I returned to Reading University. When I left, I had one year to do for my degree, but now I had two extra terms, which were quite welcome as they gave me an opportunity to settle down again. I was only doing two subjects (as usual for an honours degree) – French and Latin. The French consisted not only of the language itself but also translation into French and from French, classical literature, modern literature, old French, the development of the language from Latin, essays and a considerable amount of reading. In term-time, and even during holidays, I worked very hard, often on into the night. During leisure times, I played a lot of golf, usually with my brother Richard, at Henley Golf Club. He was always a better player than me; where I would be hoping that my second shot finished somewhere on the green, he would be seen picking the spot on the green where he proposed to land his ball. During the summer, I worked on Dick Green’s farm, mainly on harvesting, and often borrowed a gun from him to go rabbiting. Tight rationing was still in force, so a rabbit was always welcome as an alternative to the dreary diet of sausage-meat or fish. Being a hot summer, I frequently went after work for a swim at Shiplake Swimming Baths, on the River Thames.
Joan came down from Liverpool for a week, and I went up to Liverpool and stayed with her family, and also spent a fortnight with them on holiday in North Wales, near Prestatyn. We became engaged during that summer, but early next year it was all over. Looking back, the affair was doomed to failure, because we could see so little of each other, living such a long way apart. There was neither the money nor the time for frequent visits, and the flame flickered and died.
1947 was the year of my final examinations, and I continued to work as hard as ever, reluctant even to give up time to play golf. I did join the University cross-country club, and used to run in
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team matches against other universities and athletics clubs on Saturday afternoons.
In June, I sat the final examinations for my degree, and when the results came out I found I had passed the B.A. with Honours in French, Class II Division 1. I did not expect a Class 1 degree, as these were rarely given. It must have been a close thing, though; some weeks afterwards, I met the Professor of French, Professor Pesseignet, and her said: “I would have liked to give you a First, but there were other considerations.” (He did not specify what they were.) However, Class II Division 1 was classified as a “good Honours degree”, so I was quite satisfied. Class II Division II was a run-of-the-mill degree, and Class III was for those who only just scraped through.
I acquired another motorcycle that summer. I disposed of the old 250 c.c. O.K. Supreme and took over a 500 c.c. high-camshaft MSS Velocette, a far superior machine in every respect. One evening, I went over to Maidenhead to help my friend Geoff Dolphin do some work on his 350 c.c. Royal Enfield. When the job was done, we repaired to the local for some refreshment and got talking at the bar to a Mr. Jupp. He ran a holiday-camp for London youth-clubs in the Isle of Wight, and asked if I would like a job helping in the cookhouse for a few weeks. Having nothing lined up in the way of holidays, I accepted, and went down there several days later. One evening, I was sitting at a table outside, reading, when a girl came and sat down and started reading too. After half an hour, I said: “That’s another book finished,” and stood up to leave. She said: “Would you like to read the paper?”, so I said: “Yes, please”, and she went and got her Daily Mirror. (Years afterwards, she said to me: “I didn’t know how near I was to losing you, offering you the Daily Mirror.”) When it got duck, I said: “It’s too dark to read any more. Shall we take a ride up to Culver Point?” and that is how it all started. Before leaving her that evening, I said: “Are you committed to anything tomorrow?” When she said no, I said: “I have to go up to Brading in the morning to get the cakes for the canteen. Then we could go along to the other end of the island, to the Needles and Alum Bay, and have
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something to eat on the way back. Would you come with me?” By the time that day was over, the friendship was pretty firmly established. Many years later, I said to her: “Why me?”, and she said: “I liked the look of you.” Honest to the nth degree.
She also said: “I threw myself at you, didn’t I?”. I said: “No, you didn’t throw yourself. All you did was open the door. What you were saying, in effect, was: “If you like what you see, do something about it.” The ball was always in my court, it was always up to me to make the next move, if I wanted to.”
The following day, as she was leaving for London again, I said: “Write to me”, and she said: “No, you write to me,” and I realised that of course it was not up to the girl to do the pushing, that was my job. This is the photograph she gave me as she left, with her address on the back. [photograph not included]
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[certificate]
UNIVERSITY OF READING.
It is hereby certified that HENRY W. WAGNER has been duly admitted to the Degree of Bachelor of Arts of this University. (Honours School of French Class II Division 1)
[signed] E. Smith [/signed] Registrar.
July 5, 1947. [/certificate]
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[photograph] [inserted] All my love, Darling, Joan xxxx [/inserted]
and this is one I acquired later, taken when she was a little girl.
[photograph]
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And so the affair progressed; we were very happy in each other’s company, and I quickly got to know her as a gentle, understanding, kind-hearted, undemanding and completely straightforward and honest, completely unselfish, and those characteristics remained with her, unchanged, for as long as she lived. There were never any words of anger, recrimination, accusation or petty temper between us. It did not take me long to realise I had got a good one.
Sometimes, I went up to London, to her home, for the week-end, sometimes she came to Henley, and we saw each other very frequently.
In the autumn of 1947, I went back to the University for one more year, to take a Diploma in Education, a necessary qualification for teaching in grammar schools. After finishing the course, I toyed with the idea of going into the R.A.F. Education Branch, but by the time the paper-work was all completed, I found out that the main requirements were for teachers of English, mathematics and physics. By that time, it was too late to apply for jobs in state-schools, but I got a job at Bodington College, Leatherhead, Surrey, a private boarding-school for boys 11 - 18, and started there in September 1948.
[photograph]
I taught mainly French and Latin, with some English, mathematics
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[missing photograph or document]
and geography. The classes were small, the fees high. The boys all came from upper-class families, and were easy to get on with. Masters were in contact with them a great deal in leisure-times. I used to run a model aircraft club, and we flew diesel-engined control-line models on the playing-filed when weather permitted, and built or repaired them on
[page break]
[University of Reading Diploma]
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dark evenings or in wet and windy weather. I was in charge of Rugby Football, and this led to many discussions on team selection and tactics. There were lessons in the evening instead of the afternoon, leaving afternoons free for games - I either played or refereed. There was always a match against another school or a club on Saturdays and sometimes on Wednesdays as well. In the summer I umpired cricket.
The headmaster, the Reverend J. G. Wilkie, was a man of liberal views on education, only hard on those who transgressed the boundaries of good conduct and gentlemanly behaviour. Prefects were allowed to smoke in their studies, and to brew coffee, and often when I was on duty and had seen all the boys into their dormitories and put the lights out, some of the prefects would say: “Come in and have a smoke and a cup of coffee, Mr. Wagner, and we’ll talk about Saturday’s team.”
On alternate week-ends, provided I was not on duty at the school, I used to go up to London and stay at Joan’s; the other week-ends, I went by motorcycle to Henley, and Joan came to Henley by bus, and the love-affair progressed well. One day she said to me: “Henry, are you going to marry me?” I had taken this for granted, it had never crossed my mind that it might be otherwise. I realised that a girl needs to have it put in so many words, and it was remiss of me not to have made the situation clear before. So it was settled, and the wedding was fixed for August 1949. The greatest worry was where we were going to live, as only four years after the war housing was desperately short, and we had no money to start buying a house. Talking the matter over with the Headmaster, he said that there was accommodation available in one of the blocks round the old stable-yard, which we could have at a low rent. So I spent all my available spare time redecorating this, and eventually it looked quite nice. Furniture and carpets were acquired on hire-purchase - you had to have “dockets” to get these, - and Joan
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made curtains and gradually accumulated the bare necessities. I had a radio of my own, but televisions and washing-machines were almost unheard-of, and we did not hanker after them. Nor did we have a refrigerator.
[photograph] Badingham College, from the playing-fields. [/photograph]
[photograph] My Velocette, in the stable-yard. [/photograph]
[photograph] Joan on the motorcycle, taken at Henley. [/photograph]
[photograph] Joan on holiday (right) with her friend Joan Rampton. [/photograph]
Joan made her own wedding-dress and the bridesmaids’ dresses. Joan Rampton was the chief bridesmaid, and her (Joan Rampton’s) little sister the second bridesmaid. For our honeymoon, we
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would be going to Bantry, in the far south-west corner of Ireland. These are the photos we had taken for our passports. [two photographs]
The wedding took place at 11 a.m. at Holy Trinity Church, Henley-on-Thames. Richard was my best man.
[photograph of the bride and groom]
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[photograph of the wedding party]
[photograph] Leaving the reception. [/photograph]
This was held at a hotel just
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across the street from Henley station, so we did not have far to go to the train. Train to Fishguard, overnight ferry to Cork, bus to Bantry.
On our return a fortnight later, we settled in to The Cottage, Badingham College, Leatherhead, Surrey. One of my first jobs was to go down to the bank to get out some money. I came out of the bank, and was handing over some of the money to Joan when the cashier came out. He said: “Did you know your account was overdrawn, Mr Wagner?” I must have miscalculated somehow, and I said: “No. I suppose you had better have this back, hadn’t you?”, and he said: “Yes, I suppose I had,” and took it. Joan said: “Right, I’ll see about a job then,” and immediately went and got herself a job in a grocery shop. What with her money, an advance on my salary, and a loan of £60 from my brother John, we were able to carry on until we got ourselves sorted out. But money was always scarce, as I suppose it is for nearly every newly-married couple, and there were no luxuries. We used to go to the cinema twice a week – no golf, no drinking, and holidays were in caravans or boarding-houses, travelling by motorbike. The furniture was being paid off at just over £9 a month. Food was still severely rationed. We did not ask for much – we had each other, and that was enough.
I enjoyed my work, Joan enjoyed working and being with other people. She always liked to have other people round her, and even later in life when money was not so important, preferred to be working than staying at home. We still went to London and to Henley on alternate week-ends.
The even tenor of life continued at Badingham for another three years. In the summer of 1952, on our return from holiday in Colwyn Bay, the headmaster said that, owing to expansion, he needed part of our house. That meant we would have to go. There was no chance of accomodation[sic] in the “Stockbroker Belt” of Leatherhead, so I gave in my notice for December 1952.
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and set about applying for jobs in the vicinity of Henley, as my mother was willing to put us up until we got sorted out. I got one at Earley, on the outskirts of Reading, at Woodley Hill Grammar School, a boys’ school. This meant a journey of seven miles by motorbike, but that was no hardship except on bitter winter days or in heavy rain. Richard did some auctioneering for a firm in Henley, and they had space to store our furniture above the auction-rooms, so that cost us nothing.
So in January 1953 I started work at Woodley Hill, and Joan got herself a job in a shop in Henley. Richard, being a partner in a firm of estate-agents, would keep an eye open for possible living accomodation[sic] for us, but this was still in extremely short supply. After a few months, nothing seemed to be coming up, so I began to apply for a job in South Africa, where the conditions of life would be better and we would find somewhere of our own to live. Joan was in agreement – she was always willing to try anything, and never raised any objections in major decisions of this sort. But no sooner had I started to apply than Richard came up with something that suited us absolutely. A golfing friend of his, Gerald Mundey, lived with his mother and his sister Joy on a big estate up in the woods at Harpsden, about 1½ miles out of Henley; the gardener’s cottage had become vacant, and we could have it at the modest rent of £10/month. So we moved our furniture up there and settled in. It was fairly isolated, but we got on well with the Mundeys and Joan was still out all day working. I started playing golf again and joined Marlow rugby club. Looking back, it was selfish of me to be out at rugby on Saturday afternoons and often well into the evening, and then go golfing on Sunday mornings, but Joan never complained, although she would have been perfectly right to do so. Once, playing rugby against Kodak, up in London, I broke my right ankle, and had to spend ten days in Henley hospital while it was mending. I had a few more days at home, then went back to work, riding the motorcycle with one leg encased in plaster, the leg which operated the gear-change lever.
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[photograph] Marlow Rugby Club First XV. [/photograph]
I played right-hand prop, and sometimes hooker when the need arose. The regular hooker was Budworth, on the right in the front row. He used to fly Beaufighters against terrorists in Malaya before he came to us. His wife usually accompanied us on coach-trips, and was one of the few women I ever knew who drank pints of bitter. Colin Gill, left in the front row, had a glass eye; in the course of one game, it dropped out into the mud and the game had to stop while we looked for it. The bath accomodation[sic] adjoining the changing-room was a deep recess about ten feet square sunk in the concrete, and we would settle down in the hot water after a game with pints of beer standing on the concrete behind us. After a particularly muddy game, the contents of the bath would be not so much hot water as thin liquid mud. Songs were sung. An invitation came once through the post
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for me to attend a stag-party. At the bottom of the card it said “Singing by our own choir.” Joan said: “That doesn’t sound very exciting, singing by our own choir,” and I said: “Oh, but you don’t know what our own choir will be singing.”
Many such memories of Marlow Rugby Club come back to me, such as the stag-party that got out of hand; the piano was adjudged not to be functioning correctly. Beer was poured into it without producing any improvement, so the instrument itself was dismantled, without finding the cause, and by that time nobody in a state to re-assemble it. After that, the committee put a stop to further stag-parties. Then there was the occasion when a large stag-party, complete with strippers, was held in one of the pavilions at Twickenham, attended by several clubs, and those in the know will recall that I made a libation to the gods of rugby-football on the centre spot of the pitch. The amount of pleasure I have had throughout my life from golf and rugby is really incalculable. Before I stopped playing rugby, I was made an honorary life-member, for services to the club. The club ran seven teams.
[Marlow Rugby Union Football Club card front]
[page break]
[Marlow Rugby Union Football Club card page 1]
[page break]
[Marlow Rugby Union Football Club card pages 2 and 3]
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for me to attend a stag-party. At the bottom of the card it said “Singing by our own choir.” John said: “That doesn't sound very exciting, singing by our own choir,” and I said: “Ah, but you don't know what our own choir will be singing.”
Many such memories of Marlow Rugby Club come back to me, such as the stag-party that got out of hand; the piano was adjudged not to be functioning correctly. Beer was poured into it without producing any improvement, so the instrument itself was dismantled, without finding the cause, and by that time nobody was in a state to re-assemble it. After that, the committee put a stop to further stag-parties. Then there was the occasion when a large stag-party, complete with strippers, was held in one of the pavilions at Twickenham, attended by several clubs, and those in the know will recall that I made a libation to the gods of rugby-football on the centre spot of the pitch. The amount of pleasure I have had throughout my life from golf and rugby is really incalculable. Before I stopped playing rugby, I was made an honorary life-member, for services to the club. The club ran seven teams.
Fixtures Sept. 1964 – April 1965
1st XV Captain: R.J. WELSFORD
“A” XV Captain: G.L. SPINKS
EX “A” XV Captain: P. TRUNKFIELD
“B” XV Captain: D.L.G. THOMAS
CYGNETS XV Captain: R.H. RAGG
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[Rugby fixtures Sept 1964 – April 1965]
[Rules of the ruby club]
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Eventually and inevitably there was an addition to the family. Helen was born at the maternity unit in Henley, and Joan was so proud of her, and she was certainly a lovely little girl. These photographs were taken while we were still living at Red Hatch Cottage, some in the garden, some on holiday.
[six photographs]
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[seven photographs]
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[six photographs]
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[two photographs]
We had been at Red Hatch Cottage about four years. Happy days though they were, money was still tight. I had the motorcycle fitted with a sidecar on Helen's arrival, so we could still get about. But we wanted a home of our own, and there did not seem to be much hope of getting one. I used to go to the bank on Saturday mornings to get out enough money for the week; the bank balance was often down to below £5, and I dreaded a month that had five Saturdays in it.
One day, I saw on the staff-room notice-board a circular from the National Union of Teachers asking anyone who had any salary queries to get in touch with them. For most of my time at Badingham the school was not recognised by the Ministry of Education and did not therefore count as reckonable services under the regulations. However, before I left, it was inspected and recognised. I put the point to the N.U.T. - was there any possibility of having this service all recognised for the purposes of stepping up the salary scale? They replied that it was up to the Local Education Authority. So I put the matter to the Berkshire Education Authority. I was called to the telephone one day at school – yes, they would recognise all that service, put me four steps up the ladder and give back-pay also for those four years. This amounted to some £270. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. When I got home, I said to Joan; “They rang me up from Shire Hall today. They won't recognise that service.” Terribly disappointed though she must have
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been, she put her arm round me and said; “Oh well, you tried.” All the time we were married, she never made me feel inadequate, not good enough for her, although I sometimes felt that was indeed the case – she deserved better than me. She never was sarcastic, never criticised me or made me feel small. All she had to know was that it was my best that I was doing; it may not have been a very good best sometimes, but as long as it was the best, that was sufficient. But even if things turned out well and I had not done my absolute best, I would be gently reminded. Her whole philosophy of life was based on love; she believed in being in love, she loved her husband, family and home. And in return, she always knew she was well loved. I was glad to be able to give her the happiness and security that she needed. Indeed, our marriage was secure in every respect - “Secure:- without care or anxiety, free from fear or danger, safe, confident, in safe keeping, of such strength as to ensure safety” (Chambers's Twentieth Century Dictionary.) I found this cutting many years later, tucked into Joan's writing -case; it obviously appealed to her, embodying as it does her whole philosophy.
[newspaper cutting – from the New Testament]
But I digress; I shall return to this theme later. Hiding her disappointment, and knowing I must have been disappointed too, she didn't complain but tried to console me with: “Oh well, you tried.” I let it ride for a few minutes, then told her the good news, and she was absolutely delighted. We would have enough money for the necessary 10% deposit on a house and to pay for the removal. There would be nothing to spare for the extras that would be needed, but these things would come in the fulness [sic] of time. So it was not long before we were looking around at new houses being built, and eventually settled for one on Ravensbourne Drive,
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Woodley, about three miles out of Reading and not far from the school where I worked. We used to go over on Sunday afternoons and see the progress being made, and as soon as it was ready we moved in. There was a great deal to be done getting the interior comfortable to live in, but Joan was a great home-maker. The garden was a wilderness containing a lot of builder's rubble, but I set to work to make it look nice and pleasant.
[two photographs]
Ravensbourne Drive, taken from outside our house, looking down the road (left) and up the road (right)
[two photographs]
The back garden. The back of the house.
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It was a big job getting the garden in order, but I was much indebted to John for a great amount of help – he used to come over and give a hand whenever he had the time. We mixed and laid concrete along the back of the house and at the side, and made the path running up the garden. I bought a concrete sectioned garage which we put up. I laid lawns, made a sand-pit for Helen, made the trellis and put climbing-roses on it to divide off the vegetable-garden, and planted the willow-tree. Made a coal-bunker too – there was no central-heating in those days. A whole range of kitchen cabinets as well – it was a matter of making things then rather than buying them. And always words of praise from Joan for what had been achieved.
Joan used to take Helen out to a nearby park in the afternoons, where there were swings, and it was there that she met Jean Hindley, who had her little girl with her. Joan was never backward in making friends (Think again how she got to know me), and Jean and Derek have been friends ever since. I always call into see them when I go down to Woodley, and there is always a warm welcome. We also made friends with Babs and Dave Read who lived a couple of doors along, and held lively parties
[eleven lines obscured by photograph]
had pints of mild and bitter, so it was quite obvious he had at least one redeeming feature. He used to be a Petty Officer in the Navy, on the engineering side. As I got to know him better, I
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was happy to consider him a good friend – straightforward, even-tempered, he took life very much as it came. Gradually, other inhabitants of Woodley joined us, and quite a large contingent from Woodley used to go over golfing at Henley – Jim Trevaskis, Bill Spelman, George Wall, Frank Way, Jeff Morgan and Alan Thorngate. I held the post of captain of the Henley Artisans Golfing Society at the time, and for a number of years thereafter. We played matches against the artisan sections of other clubs, and Joan and Anne used to make the sandwiches and come over and organise the teas for us. Good days they were, golfing at Henley in good company. Sunday mornings were the usual time, and after the game we would repair to the Bottle and Glass at Binfield Heath to take pre-prandial refreshment and play darts with the locals. On Friday evenings also we used to go out to one pub or another for beer and darts. And Joan put up with all this without a murmur of protest!
The school moved to new buildings at Winnersh, near Wokingham. In those days, and in such a school, teaching was a pleasant enough occupation and the boys were in general easy enough to get on with. There were exceptions, of course, but in the main they were a decent lot. On a journey from the front of the class to the back it might be necessary to give the odd boy a cuff, but the usual reaction seemed to be: “Fair enough, he caught me out,” and that was the end of it. Not so in these days, though. An action of that sort now would result in reports to the Head, parents up to the school, letters to the Education Department, and so forth. I remember writing on one boy’s report once: “Oafish stupidity is his outstanding characteristic.” At a parents’ evening his father said: “I take exception to this remark, Mr. Wagner. Can you justify it?” “Yes”, I said. “This very morning, when I had got the class settled down to work, he came in late, hurled the door open, which wrenched the door-stop out of the floor, slammed the door, and went to his place without a word of apology.” “Yes”, he said, “I see what you mean. I shall take the matter up with him.” On the other hand, on the last day of the summer term, one of my Sixth Form
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French students said: “Would you care to some out for a farewell drink, Mr. Wagner?”, so off we went. This would cause some raised eyebrows these days. I remember saying to him: “Two years ago, you were an inky little lad in the Fifth Form, now you’re a gentleman,” and that was the way with many of them.
While at The Forest Grammar School, my head of department was Keith Fletcher, an extremely able man and easy to get on with. He expected his staff to do their job competently and conscientiously, he consulted and advised, he did not lay down the law but what he said went, and he did not suffer fools gladly. He was a friend in those times, and has remained a friend every since. We see each other from time to time.
In the fulness of time, there was an addition to the family, and Philip made his appearance. In those days, it was the practice for only the first child to be born in hospital, so Philip was born at home. [Three photographs of Henry with his children]
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[Six photographs of the family]
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Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Henry Wagner's life story. Part one
Description
An account of the resource
Hand written by Henry, Part 1 covers his early life and time at university. It goes on to cover in some detail his time in the RAF, his time training in South Africa conversion to the Halifax and operations on 51 Squadron. It also covers his time as a prisoner of war and his post war career as a teacher in both England and Kenya. This part also covers his marriage, two children and their first house.
Creator
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Henry Wagner
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153 hand written pages with photographs
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eng
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Text. Memoir
Text
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BWagnerHWWagnerHWv1-01
Coverage
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Civilian
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
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Great Britain
South Africa
Germany
Kenya
Germany--Winterfeld
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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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David Bloomfield
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Henry was born Irish but later became a naturalised British Citizen. He talks of his early life in Ireland, going to school at Henley-on-Thames and went to Reading University. (Higher School Certificate p15). He joined the University Air Squadron. After passing his final year examinations he was called up and joined the RAF. (Photograph p 21).
He passed through the Aircrew Reception Centre in London, Brighton, and Liverpool, Henry found himself sailing to Durban, South Africa. He tried to become a pilot but failed a test in a Tiger Moth so was placed in the Navigational Training School. He met Graham Walker while there. On 23 December 1943 Henry became a Sergeant with a Navigator’s brevet. (Navigator brevet p27).
After moving through RAF West Freugh, Scotland, Henry was then posted to the OTU RAF Abingdon to learn more complex skills in addition to lectures about the Luftwaffe, Intelligence information and ‘Escape and Evasion’. Henry crewed up at Abingdon. (Photographs of crew p 34-5). The next move was to 4 Group Training School, and this confirmed for the crew that they would be flying Halifax Mark 3 aircraft. Here lectures were ‘all good stuff’.
The penultimate move was to 1952 HCU RAF Marston Moor to learn about the Halifax Mark 3 and meet Sergeant Eric Berry, flight engineer. (Photograph p37). Henry describes the duties of the navigator, the use of the ‘Master Bomber’, some of the anti-aircraft techniques that were used in the technological war. (Photograph using of the H2S p39, pieces of the ‘Window’ radar defence p50).
Finally, they moved to RAF Snaith. There Henry took part in raids on Julich near Essen x 2, Hagen (an aborted mission), Soest, in the Ruhr Valley, Duisburg x 2, Aachen, Munster, and Osnabruck. There was a degree of acceptance that they were statistically going to die during their duties.
Henry was returning from a raid when he appraised the pilot that there was a fire onboard. The pilot to decide to abandon the aeroplane, and Henry parachuted from his plane. He landed in the garden of a domestic house and explains the contents of his evasion-pack. He was captured, moved to the Aircrew Interrogation Centre was in Oberursel and then onto Stalag Luft 7 Bankau, Silesia. Here he rejoined John Trumble with whom Henry had undergone part of his training. There was an army padre at the camp and the influence Captain John Collins had on the POWs both at Stalag Luft 7 and when the men were marching to other camps is described. They arrived at Stalag 3A, Luckenwaldwe. Henry describes Red Cross parcel, daily life there, attacks of dysentery, and ‘Goon-baiting’.
When the ‘gen’ revealed the Russians were only 12 miles from the camp, the Germans abandoned them, and RAF Wing Commander Beamont assumed command of the camp. On 22 April 1945, the Russians arrived. They refused to release the POWs, so Henry and John walked 7 miles westwards where they were met by the Americans and taken to the Reception Centre, Schonebeck.
With VE declared and de-lousing completed they were returned to RAF Wing, Aylebury. He shows the graves of his crew (photographs p 99-101).
On demobbing Henry resumed his university studies and became a teacher. He married and had children. Henry went to a Stalag Luft 7 reunion in 1982.
Claire Campbell
1652 HCU
51 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
aerial photograph
air gunner
Air Observers School
aircrew
Anson
anti-aircraft fire
bale out
bomb aimer
briefing
C-47
Caterpillar Club
coping mechanism
crewing up
debriefing
Dulag Luft
evading
final resting place
flight engineer
Flying Training School
Gee
Halifax
Halifax Mk 3
Heavy Conversion Unit
incendiary device
killed in action
Master Bomber
military ethos
military living conditions
military service conditions
missing in action
navigator
Operational Training Unit
Pathfinders
perception of bombing war
pilot
prisoner of war
RAF Abingdon
RAF Acaster Malbis
RAF Heaton Park
RAF Marston Moor
RAF Snaith
RAF West Freugh
recruitment
Red Cross
shot down
Stalag 3A
Stalag Luft 7
target indicator
target photograph
the long march
Tiger Moth
training
Whitley
Window
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59d89a3a9449a6ce0c91505d0f2dda43
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
Cole, Ivor
Frederick Ivor Geoffrey Cole
F I G Cole
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2017-07-09
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Cole, FIG
Description
An account of the resource
42 items.
The collection concerns Sergeant Frederick Ivor Geoffrey "Ivor" Cole (1817994 Royal Air Force) his log book, documents and photographs, and a photograph album of his post war service in Singapore. He flew operations as a wireless operator with 103 Squadron.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Frederick Cole and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
HEROES OF THE AIR WAR (No. 39) CAPTAIN SWALES
[sketch]
Captain Edwin Swales, D.F.C., was South Africa's greatest bomber pilot of the Second World War. On the outbreak of war, Captain Swales joined the South African Army. Later, he transferred to the Air Force. He was the only South African to fly with the famous Pathfinders.
[sketch]
On February 22, 1945, he was awarded the DFC for "exceptional coolness" when his plane was attacked doing a raid on Cologne. The following night he took off on a mission to Phorzheim. The enemy defences were alerted and night fighters took off.
[sketch]
Captain Swales was the master bomber on this raid. It was his job to locate the target precisely, and give full aiming instructions to the bombers which followed. The success or failure of the raid depended on him to a great extent. Over the target, Swales' plane was intercepted by an enemy fighter and came under heavy, accurate fire.
[sketch]
The rear guns failed and the crippled bomber was a sitting duck. Calmly Swales concentrated on his job. Another engine was silenced. Almost defenceless, he stayed over the target issuing his instructions to the wave of bombers converging on Phorzheim.
[sketch]
The raid over, he turned for home. The plane was almost unmanageable. Captain Swales ordered his crew to bale out and they all parachuted to safety. Immediately, the plane plunged to earth in its death dive. Swales was found dead at the controls. His self-sacrifice won him the Victoria Cross.
[inserted] 7 HRS – 40 TRIP No 33 [/inserted]
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
Heroes of the Air War (No. 39) Captain Swales
Description
An account of the resource
A newspaper cutting with cartoons of Captain Swales, German fighters, Lancasters under attack and airmen baling out. It is annotated 7hs 40 Trip No 33.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Germany
Germany--Cologne
Germany--Pforzheim
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
South African Air Force
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Format
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One newspaper cutting
Identifier
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NColeFIG170709-020001, NColeFIG170709-020002
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Sue Smith
aircrew
bale out
Distinguished Flying Cross
killed in action
Master Bomber
Pathfinders
pilot
shot down
Victoria Cross
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2563/44399/MParryWE1172401-220531-05.2.pdf
9c27676d60f8395688b050b0f63a7ddd
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
Parry, William Edward
Parry, W E
Description
An account of the resource
34 items. The collection concerns Pilot Officer William Edward Parry DFC (1912 - 1996, 1177401 Royal Air Force) and contains his decorations, documents and photographs. He flew operations as a pilot with 9 Squadron.
The collection was loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Frances Lee and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2022-05-31
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
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Parry, WE
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[underlined] "HOLTEN IN OORLOGSTJD (1984)
HOLTEN IN WARTIME [/underlined]
[underlined] LANCASTER CRASHED IN HOLTERBROEK. [/underlined]
In the evening of Saturday Septenber [sic] 23rd 1944 244 Lancasters, nine Mosquitos and one Lightning of a number of squadrons of No. 5 Group of the British Royal Air Force took off from their basis [sic] in central England. In the surroundings of the town of Lincoln. Only a short time before their take off the flyers had come to know which for that night would be the objects of attack and details about the routes to fly and aims were given. Like with other attack flights, also this time not all planes should be able to execute their missions successfully and return safely to their bases. At the end of the attack it appeared that fifteen planes of No. 5 Group were missing. One of those Lancasters crashed that night near Holten. We'll trace the flight of this machine.
After they had occupied themselves with things like briefing, distribution of the flyers' outfits, the filling up the planes with some 5900 litres of fuel, the loading with bombs and ammunition and finally the tests and checks of the engines, at last the signal 'take off' was given that evening. One after another twelve Lancasters of No. 9 Squadron R.A.F. which were employed that night, flashed along the runway on Bardney base. At 19-02hrs exactly (British time) the Lancaster LL901 WS-V for Vic' took off. Snorting the engine went up with it's heavy load of bombs and joined the planes, which in the evening light formed a formation. For the crew of seven members it was to be the 26th operational flight they flew together. They flew for the seventeenth time in this old but reliable and safe 'box', which had already 368 flying hours. A very large number, which were flown during about 50 operational and many test flights. Among the members of the crew who knew each other already since the training, a great friendship had grown the course of months. In June 1944 they had been placed in this squadron and almost immediately used in the bomb attacks on the continent of Europe. In the night of 12 to 13 June 1944 they executed their first operational flight at the French town of Portierd. The following attacks were for the greater part also aimed at French territory to support of the marching allied forces and further at some German towns, while one time the Dutch airfield Gilze-Rijen was bombed. Their last flight was a remarkable one. They had taken part in the operation 'Paravane' at which the famous German man-of-war Tirpitz was attacked. The ship was lying heavily defended in the Norwegian Altenfjord, just beyond the radius of action of the Lancasters. A cute plan, however, was executed. In the evening of September 11th 1944 they had taken off from their base and after a stop in Scotland, where the fuel tanks were refilled, they flew non-stop to an airbase in north Russia near the town of Archangelsk. From that place the Lancasters of No. 9 and 617 Squadron R.A.F. with full tanks performed attacks on the 45,000 ton war-ship. Though at these attacks the Tirpitz was heavily damaged, they did not succeed in sinking the ship and the aircraft flew back to their bases in England.
For this night the attack was aimd [sic] at Dortmund-Ems canal, near the town of münster. The intention was to destroy hereby the enemy supply lines between the German industrial areas upon the Ruhr and the front near Arnhem where some days before large allied airborne units were dropped. The aircraft were equipped with 12 ton bomb with time ignition, a so-called 'Tall boy', which had to be dropped on the market target. In the beginning the flight went quietly. Flying eastward in fact they flew up to the darkness and when they passed the Belgian coast at a height of about five kilometers [sic] it had already grown completely dark. From this height the heavy battle near Arnhem was clearly to observe. Glowing bullets and grenades drew bowlines though [sic] the sky and there were fiercely burning fires. When they reached the German frontier shellfire on the formation was opened. The aircraft, however could manage to reach the target area undamaged. They flew in onto the target from about 7500 metres and the bomb was aimed at the place, which was indicated with red burning markers. After that they immediately left the area. Because of the time ignition of 30 minutes it was not visible for the crew of the WS-V whether their bomb had hit the target or not.
(1)
[page break]
F/Lt Charles Scott from Glasgow flew the Lancaster back home. The German flak was still very bad, but as soon as they had reached Holland, it soon diminished. Though it was quiet now, they kept on the alert. The gunners were behind their machine guns and peered into the dark night. Suddenly there was a loud crack. It was clear that the plane was hit, but nobody had seen or heard anything. Because they did not see any flak, the crew was convinced that it had been a German night-fighter, which had attacked them. The right inside engine proved to be hit and soon licking flames came out of it. Very quick the man came to action and tried to put out the flames, unfortunately without any result. Shortly after the second engine caught fire too at the starboard side. F/Lt Scott realised that now nothing could be done about it anymore. The plane could hardly be controlled and a quick decision had to be taken. He suggested to try to make a forced landing in the liberated area, soth [sic] of Arnhem. Suddenly the Lancaster lost much height and was not under control anymore, where upon Scott ordered the crew via the intercom to bail out. Probably at that moment the right wing burned through, whereafter the bomber swung round and tumbled down. The crew found their way to the escaping hatches. Only F/Sgt Leslie Langley succeeded in opening the hatch, leaving the plane and reaching the ground safely, he, however, sprained his ankle. "It was as if it took me two hours before i [sic] managed to open the hatch, which was underneath me, after which i [sic] jumped immediately", Mr. Langley told, when we visited him summer 1979 at his home in one of the suburs [sic] of London. He went on: "That i opened it at the very last moment, is clear from the fact that i came down in the meadow next to where the plane crashed. The parachute must have opened very shortly before i touched the ground. Of the jump i don't recall anything. Immediately i put off my parachute, hid it in a small trench and on my knees i drank some draughts of water from a ditch, to come to myself again. Fof [sic] a short time i looked around if i saw anyone of my comrades. Because of the extreme heat of the burning plane, I could not approach to it very close. I was aware of it that the Germans would appear and that i had to take my heels very soon. Limping i ran off, on course of my compass, in a southern direction.
As a matter of fact all this had not gone totally unnoted [sic] by the Holten population. The heavy sound of the formation flying over had enticed a few people to go outside even though time during which people had to stay in had already begun at 8-00p.m. It always was fascinating view. The eastern sky was lighted red, caused by fires in the Ruhrgebiet; searchlights scanned the sky for planes, while Very lights and flares, flakshells and tracer bullets flickered up against the nightly darkness. Not seldom planes crashed and this night too several of them were seen coming down in the surroundings. In the meantime it was around 23-30 hrs. when from the east a plane became visible which burned heavily and approached the village dangerously. The sound of the roaring engines pierced everybody to the very marrow, as if it were the last cry of a dying animal. Some people went into a panic. Sleeping children were waken up. A few people ran up to the falling plane, according to the advices of the Civil Defence. Fortunately the plane flew over the village, but crashed at the Populierendijk in Holterbroek. Far in the neighbourhood the shock could be felt and the surroundings were lighted up by the glow of the fire, so that see the cows in the pastures, while the trees cast their shadows on the sinister lighted land, that was frightened up so sudden in this autumn night.
Immediately after the group commander of the constabulary, Hallink, charged a number of his men with the garding [sic] of the plane. Mr. H.J. Holterman, deputy commander of the CD came to the spot personally and stated that a more [sic] engined English plane had crashed and was fully splintered and that several flyers were killed in the crash. An airman was lying at the way in to a meadow. (This was top-turret gunner F.A. Saunders.) Both apparently had bailed out too late and smacked the earth before their parachutes could open. Later one more dead airman was mentioned, found at the Evertjesweg. In the afternoon the latter was transported to the mortuary at the old cemetery by the nearest farmer, Aanstoot 'De Grieze', with his cart.
(2)
[page break]
On Tuesday morning September 26th the dead bodies in the burned out plane were collected and coffined by municipal workers. Then it became clear that in and under the wreckage were the mortal remains of four young men who were badly mutilated by the fire. So six victims were recovered in total.
The very morning at 11-20hrs they were buried on [sic] the cemetery.
Bomb aimer F/Sgt Leslie Langley had walked on in a wearisome way, in spite of his sprained ankle. When he arrived at the Schipbeek, he followed it in a western direction. Only when it was nearly morning he knocked at a house and presented himself with the words: "Ik bin English", one of the phrases which were on an information leaflet all allied flyers had, to make surviving and escaping in occupied area more easily. The people, however, didn't dare to let him come in and Langley continued on his way. Near Deventer, where the Schipbeek flows together with the Ijssel, he followed the Ijssel in a southern direction, in the supposition that somewhere in the neighbourhood of Zutphen he would meet the british army which would march on from Arnhem. He didn't know that the situation in Arnhem was very bad for the English at that moment. Leslie had walked on for three nights, sleeping in the daytime, when one early morning he knocked at the door of the family Gradus Visser in Gorssel. Only a few words were needed to make clear what had happened and what his plans were. They let him in and explained to him the bad situation of the English at Arnhem. There was no use going on. He however, could not stay at the Visser family. Too many Germans were arround [sic] Father Visser nevertheless arranged contacts with the underground movement and a safe shelter was found for Langley at the Koeslag family in Laren, a family extremely active in helping allied flyers. From Koeslag, Langley was conveyed by 'Kees' of the Holten underground group to the farm 'Buisweerd', from where he was taken by some persons in hiding there to Reterink in Zuidloo. This was about three weeks after the crash. Langley stayed here for nearly seven months, together with John Miller who, the same night, was shot down in the enviroment [sic] of Zelhem. The latter still wore his uniform and had his pistol with him. He wanted to defend himself and refer to the convention of Geneva in case he would be taken prisoner. After New Year they were joined by the Norwegian flyer Kare Herfjord of No. 332 Squadron R.A.F., who had made a forced landing on January 4th, 1945, in the Rijssenseveen behind the farm of the family Lindenberg. In an ingenious way shelters were made for the persons in hiding in a strawstack. In the daytime they mostly were in the farmhouse. Sometimes there were very dangerous situation when two German friendly policemen from Bathmen came to the farm's kitchen for coffee, while the flyers were playing Monopoly in another room. A game in which Langley clearly gave proof of his past as a bank employee when it came to counting money. That Monopoly game helped them through the long months they had to await the liberation.
When on April 6th 1945 an armoured car of the Canadian 8th Reconnaissance Regiment came near the farm, the three airman [sic] jumped in and were brought – without having time to say good-bye- behind the lines. For interrogation they went on to Breda. After their identity had been checked, they were flown to England and on April 10th Langley arrived already at his parents and fiancee in London. You can easily guess what a joy it was for everybody. The Langleys in London had lived in anxious suspence [sic] during all those months. Via the Red Cross organization they knew there was only one survivor. Who he was could not be determined, because not all victims could be identified.
After the war Leslie Langley, now working at an insurance firm in London more than once visited the Reterink family and also the spot where his plane crashed.
(3)
[page break]
In 1947 he was back for the first time and visited the family J. van Schooten, living about 200 metres from the place of crash.
Just at that moment a house painter worked there. Painter and ex-airman stood together and recognized each other without knowing at first who exactly the other war. Soon it became clear. Leslie Langley stood face to face with Arend Schipper, during the war commander of the resistance movement in Holten and it was him who had conveyed Langley from Koeslag in Laren to Buisweerd. Later on Langley was taken to the farm of H. Reterink in Zuidloo, where he was liberated at last.
[underlined] A flyer is missing. [/underlined]
A short time after the liberation there were some problems with regard to the identification of the fallen airmen. There has been some talk on the missing of the British F/O C.E.M. Graham, navigator of the Lancaster NF 923 of No. 617 Squadron R.A.F. (known as the Dambuster squadron which had the destroying of the German barrages to their credit) The plane had also taken part in the attack on the Dortmund-Ems canal near Münster, was, however, attacked by a German nightfighter and lost it's course and had flown high over Holten. It appeared that this airman was severely wounded in an airfight over Twento and had got a shock. Because the plane was heavily damaged and could not effect a normal landing anymore, Graham probably was thrown out of the plane on his parachute by his comrades to save his life. The other members of the crew could manage to leave the plane with the exception of the pilot F/Lt G.S. ('Geoff') Stout. He lost his life when the plane crashed at the Vordensebinnenweg in the municipality of Lochem.
An enquiry after the location of the F/O Graham's grave had no result. In Holten nobody knew about a flyer with this name and an extensive investigation by the municipality of Holten in which many places in the neighbourhood were summoned, didn't help to make this case clear. It was suspected that the flyer in question should be among those airmen buried in Holten of whom some had not yet been identified. It was most evident that it concerned the victim found at the Evertjesweg. The mortal remains were disinterred on November 6th 1945 and interred on [sic] the military cemetery at Oosterbeek in square IV, row C, grave 13; later a tombstone was placed with the indication C.E.M. Graham, Flying Officer, 159937.
In the opinion of a member of the Holten CD at that time, there was still no proof that it reaily [sic] concerned the flyer mentioned above. It reaily [sic] concerned the flyer mentioned above. It seemed as if they had passed off the matter to satisfy the victim's father, Major-General Sir M.W.A.P. Graham, KBE, CB, MC, – a high officer in the staff of Field-Marshal Montgomery – to appoint the exact place of his son's grave. It was the more peculiar, because now in Holten in fact they missed a dead man from the plane which had crashed the same night in Holterbroek. After it was accepted that the mortal remains of two different, severely mutilated flyers should be buried in one grave. They then thought that it concerned the flyers Hayward and Harding, resting in a joint grave, as to be seen to this day at the cemetery regarding the little space between the two tombstones.
Yet it is to accept that the identification was correct and that it really concerned the flyer who came down at the Evertjesweg. After inquiries in the surroundings we had a talk with Mr. H.J. Bosschers. He remembered having seen that night a plane approaching from eastern direction. Over Holten the plane, however, had turned to the south. Mr. Bosschers also rememberd [sic] that at some distance behind his house 'something' came down with a thud. Only the next morning he learned that it should have been an R.A.F. man who had fallen down at the Evertjesweg. It appeared to be dark, slightly built person with small hands.
(4)
[page break]
Mr. G.J. Huisman, inhabitant of Holten, at that time hidden for the Germans at the family Jansen 'Menum', also living in this area, also remembered the dead flyer who was found in the mornining: [sic]
"Evidently he had come down hard, because we could see an imprint of the body in the soil. On his collar he had a badge in yellow and red with sickle and hammer, while there was a ring on one of his hands with a picture of a red Indian's head. Blood ran from his mouth. I could see that i was not the first person on the spot, for the parachute had been cut off and was hidden under some brushes [sic] by the road side. I took it home with me. Later i saw that the parachute cloth had been shot through in different places. In my opinion that was the cause of the flyer's death."
At attempts to trace how it all came to pass why F/O Graham had come down in Holten and was found dead, we succeeded in contacting the, at that time F/O R.H. ('Reg') Petch, who belonged to the same crew and took part in the flight as tailgunner. In spite of that his information gave no useful clues. Because of his position in the tailpart, Mr. Petch said not to be well informed of what was going on in the cockpit. Probably F/O Petch bailed out first, when his gun-turret had been eliminated and the plane burned. He came down in the municipality of Hellendoorn and kept covered for two days, observing sharply the bustle around a farm. When nothing suspicious happened he went up to the farm. The farmer warned the resistance movement; they helped him with addresses where he could hide for the coming period.
F/O Petch was liberated on April 10th 1945 in Nijverdal.
Flight-engineer P/O A.W. Benting landed severely wounded in the municipality of Markelo, a few metres behind the farmhouse of the family Tempelman of the Borkeldweg, near the municipal frontier with Holten. With the firing of pistol-shots he drew the attention of the family. He, however, had a shot wound through his head and through his calf of a leg; they could not help him in the right way. They took him a short time afterwards to a hospital in Enschede, but there he died a few days later.
F/O Graham had also taken part in the attack on the Tirpitz and probably had gotten this badge in Russia.
The other members of the crew were more fortunate. F/Sgt F.L. ('Peter') Whittaker, top turret gunner, came down not far from P/O Benting behind the farmhouse of J.W. Ebbekink 'Peurtje' – very active in the resistance movement where he was helped further.
Bomb aimer F/O W.A. ('Bill') Rupert, a canadian, landed safely on the Markeloseberg, hurried away from there and also came in touch with the underground. Together with his fellow crewmember Peter Whittaker he too was an enthousiastic [sic] co-worker at the droppings of arms, etc. For the resistance. In chapter 9 about the resistance movement more will be told about.
About the wireless operator F/O R.J. Allen nothing is known, except that he survived the war. Just like Petch, Rupert and Whittaker he probably was liberated at last at a hiding address in Eastern Holland.
Many thanks to the author Martin Hols for the translation from Dutch to English from the book HOLTEN IN OORLOGSTJD (1984) from the Saunders family.
(5)
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
Holten in Oorlogstjd (1984) - Holten in Wartime
Lancaster Crashed in Holterbroek.
Description
An account of the resource
A detailed account of the night's events leading to the shooting down of a Lancaster over the Netherlands.
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Netherlands
Netherlands--Holten
Great Britain
England--Lincoln
France
Netherlands--Tilburg Metropolitan Area
Norway
Russia (Federation)
Russia (Federation)--Arkhangelʹskai︠a︡ oblastʹ
Germany
Germany--Dortmund-Ems Canal
Netherlands--Arnhem
Scotland--Glasgow
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Civilian
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
Five typewritten sheets
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MParryWE1172401-220531-05
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.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1984
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-09-23
1944-09-24
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Sue Smith
5 Group
617 Squadron
9 Squadron
air gunner
anti-aircraft fire
bale out
bomb aimer
bombing
crash
evading
final resting place
killed in action
Lancaster
Mosquito
navigator
P-38
RAF Bardney
Resistance
Tallboy
target indicator
Tirpitz
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2154/37407/B[Author]RidingRHv30001.jpg
c921d5e4d46059d6cceef4f9053f4cdd
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2154/37407/B[Author]RidingRHv30002.jpg
87f2766dd1a5ebd36eebaa552e29e369
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
Riding, Ronald Holford
Riding, RH
Description
An account of the resource
45 items and five photograph albums. The collection concerns Ronald Holford Riding (b. 1921, 1525125 Royal Air Force) and contains his log book, correspondence, documents, photographs, and service material. He flew operations as a navigator with 69 Squadron before he was shot down in France. He evaded and worked with the resistance before crossing the Allied lines in August 1944.
The collection has been donated to the IBCC Digital Archive by Lyn Elizabeth Jolliffe and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2021-09-23
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Riding, RH
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[underlined] I OWE MY LIFE TO YOU [/underlined]
At two o’clock in the morning of the 6th. June, 1944, a German shell shot down F/Lt. Ronald Riding’s Lancaster. He was twenty-two years old and his mission, on that night prior to the bombardment, was to locate the German 21st. Armoured Division. Three members of the crew were killed when the bomber was hit and four others survived by baling out of the aircraft.
Ronald found himself alone on the ground somewhere near Mailleraye and quite close to Caudebec. He lost his flying boots when his parachute opened so he was in his stockinged feet. Thus began his great adventure. “I walked in my bare feet, which wasn’t very easy, and then I saw a farm. The man did not want to let me in, but his wife standing behind him said “Yes, yes, we must give him something to eat’,”. At daybreak Ronald set out again but he decided to hide up during the day and walk during the night. The following evening he knocked at the door of Mme. Guegan. “She simply told me to come in and she gave me something to eat and drink.”
He stayed at Mme. Guegan’s home for a few days during which time the Maquis, of which Mme. Guegan’s son Jean was a member, were informed by London that Ronald was an English flyer and not a German spy. “In order to establish my identity I had to state where I lived in Manchester and I had to list the names of several London Underground stations.” His identity now verified, Ronald was now accepted by the Robert Leblanc Maquis near Port-Audemer. Infortunately [sic], one of the band was arrested and fearing that he might reveal the whereabouts of their hide-out, his comrades dispersed: Ronald remembers that this occurred on the 14th, July.
After staying for some time at the ‘Maison Blanche’ (a code name?), Ronald and another flyer, John, decided to leave to try to join the Allied lines. Then at the end of July they met M. and Mme. Jules Joigne at Brevedent.
“My father has spotted them late that evening. They were consulting a map printed on a piece of cloth. My father came back into the house and said to my mother, “They are English”. The next day he came across them again and brought them back to the house. I was four years old at the time and my sister was sixteen.” said Guy and Eliane, the children of M. and Mme. Joigne. It was at their house that Ronald and his friend John, were hidden for some time. Then they made contact with the escape network.
MM. Jean Dufay and Jean Breard came to fetch them in a horse-drawn carriage and brought them to Thiberville. “I rode ahead on my bicycle,” recalled M. Prévost. “We came across two German policeman [sic] and I can tell you I was dead scared.” But nothing more untoward happened before they arrived at the home of M. and Mme. Prévost who took it upon themselves to hide them. However, their house was very exposed so Ronald and John decided to continue on their way. They were taken into the convent in Thiberville for several days where their best hiding place was in a cupboard, but Ronald and John kept in good spirits in spite of their misfortunes.
[page break]
[underlined] 2 [/underlined]
They were then lodged at the home of Mme. Sénéchal, first of all at the butcher’s shop in town and then in a small, isolated house where they made the acquaintance of the Vandamme family and of André l’Hotelin: “the children were going to play football with them to pass the time” recalled one who remembered them. The liberation of Thiberville was now near and Ronald and John waited for the arrival of the Canadian troops on 24th. August, and shortly afterwards they returned to England. John was killed on another mission and Ronald continued his operations until the end of the war.
[underlined] MY DEAR FRENCH FRIENDS [/underlined].
On Tuesday, at the time of the ceremony organised in his honour at the Thiberville Town Hall, Ronald Riding could not conceal his emotion. “Thank you all. It has been wonderful to return to Normandy to take part in the ceremonies marking the 50th. Anniversary of the Liberation and to be re-united with my dear French friends. I received the same welcome as I did fifty years ago when I knocked on a door and you said to me, “Come in Monsieur.” I must express my gratitude to the French families who gave me food and concealed me at the risk of their own lives. I owe my life to you. Thank you and Long Live France.”
[underlined] REMEBRANCE AND FRIENDSHIP [/underlined]
In his speech, the Mayor of Thiberville, M. Bessirard, surrounded by his Council, representatives of the Police and Fire Brigade, emphasised the honour for the members of the community to receive a liberator on the day following the 50th. Anniversary of ‘the longest day’. And he added, “It was due to thousands and thousands of people like you M. Riding, and like your parents Mme. Guerin, and like you M. Prévost and you M. Dufay, that we reached this longest day whose success regained for us our honour and liberty and gave us our future.”
Then the Mayor presented the town medallion to M. Riding, M. Dufay, M. Prévost, M. Joinge and posthumously to M. Bréard: “that it shows to all of us a sign of gratitude, remembrance and friendship.
M. Bessirard then invited his guests to join him in a toast to the friendship that was so evident today. Ronald posed for photographs and answered the many questions that were put to him. Ronald’s feelings were a mixture of joy and sadness, but more than this understandable emotion, he was carried away by the joy of finding himself in France again among his dear friends.
May this day remain forever engraved on the hearts of all of us.
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
I Owe my Life to You
Description
An account of the resource
The events after Ronald was shot down on the morning of D-day.
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-06-06
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
France
Great Britain
England--Manchester
England--London
France--Caudebec-en-Caux
France--Eure
England--Lancashire
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
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eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Memoir
Format
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Two printed sheets
Identifier
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B[Author]RidingRHv30001, B[Author]RidingRHv30002
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
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1944-06-06
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Steve Baldwin
bale out
evading
killed in action
Lancaster
Resistance
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1058/18687/MPackhamG1214349-160825-010001.2.jpg
70ae6272be484de79be7a35b7e5b9f78
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/1058/18687/MPackhamG1214349-160825-010002.2.jpg
46e5a5625b10c060fba98c384dbd17f5
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
Packham, Geoff
G Packham
Description
An account of the resource
Nine items. An oral history interview with Pilot Officer Geoff Packham (b. 1922, 161076, 1214349 Royal Air Force), photographs and documents. He flew operations as a pilot with 550 Squadron from RAF North Killingholme and became a prisoner of war after being shot down in June 1944.
The collection has been loaned to the IBCC Digital Archive for digitisation by Geoff Packham and catalogued by Barry Hunter.
Publisher
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IBCC Digital Archive
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2016-08-25
Rights
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This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
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Packham, G
Transcribed document
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
[inserted] 21A [/inserted]
From:- R.A.F.Station, NORTH KILLINGHOLME.
[missing word] Headquarters, No. 1 Group.
Copy to:- HQ No. 13 Base.
O.C. 550 Squadron. [inserted] (file copy.) [/inserted]
Ref:- NK/S.2944/INT.
Date:- 22nd May, 1945.
[underlined] STATION NARRATIVE NO. 20. [/underlined]
530/P Pilot. P/O Packham.
IL 747 Flight Eng. Sgt. Pettit.
Air Bomber. Sgt. Jenkins.
Navigator. Sgt. Matthews.
Wireless Op. Sgt. Willson.
M/U/G. Sgt. Jackson.
R/G. Sgt. Morgan.
The following account is submitted after interrogation of P/O PACKHAM on his return to England after release from a P.O.W. Camp in Germany:-
“P” took off from North Killingholme at 2319 hours on the 16th June, 1944 on a bombing mission to the STERKRADE Synthetic Oil Plant at HOLTEN on the northwestern [sic] edge of the Ruhr. The mission was uneventful until approximately 0100 hours i.e. 20 minutes before H-hour, when in flying through a loose flak barrage “P” was hit affecting the port inner engine which was rendered completely unserviceable and also rendering the port outer partly unserviceable. In addition the perspex in the nose and the pitot head was blown away and the hydraulic system rendered unserviceable. The height flown at this time was 18,000ft. The mission was continued to the target, arriving there at approximately 15,000ft. Endeavours were made to release the bombs first manually then by other means, but all efforts were unavailing. In addition it was not found possible to open the bomb doors. “P” remained in the target area orbitting [sic] for approximately 5 minutes with an intense barrage of fla[deleted]c[/deleted]k and searchlights present while these endeavours to release the bombs were attempted. Finally “P” left [inserted] THE [/inserted] target area with all its bomb load (1 x 4,000 lb. H.C.; 6 x 500 lb. G.P. TD.0.025; 6 x 500 lb. G.F. N.I.; 4 x 500 lb. G.F.LD). It was found impossible to maintain height which was gradually lost to approximately 12,000 ft. About 15 minutes after leaving the target on the north bound homeward route a single ME 110 was seen 50 yards away on the starboard quarter level flying parallel. No exchange of fire was made, but evasive action was taken and the enemy aircraft lost to view. Some minutes later a similar enemy aircraft appeared again on the starboard quarter and again evasive action was taken and no attack developed. During these encounters height had been lost to 10,000 ft. “P” had now reached the eastern frontiers of Holland and the intention was to continue if possible to England. However, the port outer engine now became completely unserviceable and with the aircraft supported only by the two starboard motors it was realised that not even the Dutch coast could be reached, so course was set southward away from heavily built up areas and baling out orders issued by the Captain to the remainder of the crew. Height was then approximately 5,000 ft. All the crew baled out successfully, the pilot having considerable difficulty in keeping the aircraft on an even trim, while he baled out last. This was finally accomplished by shutting off the two remaining engines and gliding the aircraft for the last few moments. Even then the aircraft began to spin as the pilot left it. P/O Packham had no difficulty in pulling his [inserted] [symbol] NOT ME [/inserted] ripcord and landed uneventfully in a wheat field, although he had a severe wound [symbol] in his hand probably sustained during his leaving the aircraft. His aids box and map pack had fallen out of his pocket in descending. He landed approximately 1/4 mile from the small village of VLIJMEN (5142/0512E). He buried his parachute and made his way to a church adjoining the village after seeing “P” crash, in believed open country, several miles away. He spent the rest of the night sleeping in the churchyard. At daybreak he approached a cottager who in turn brought the vicar who spoke English. After explaining his position P/O Packham was enable [sic] to contact the Dutch underground movement who then organised his movements for some considerable time. During these movements he was joined by his mid-upper gunner Sgt. JACKSON.
/During…
[page break]
- 2 –
During the course of his assisted progress southward the Gestapo found [deleted] him [/deleted] inserted] THEM [/inserted] and after interrogation in which some threats but no actual pressure or physical violence was made, the two aircrew were incarcerated in the Wehrmacht jail in ANTWERP. From there [deleted] his [/deleted] [inserted] THEIR [/inserted] progress was via the Luftwaffe Centre at BRUSSELS, where [inserted] T [/inserted] he [inserted] Y [/inserted] [deleted] was [/deleted] [inserted] WERE [/inserted] again interrogated in a straightforward manner, then by rail to OBERURSAL (Dulag Luft) where further interrogation took place. They were only detained there for one afternoon, being transfered [sic] again by train to WETZLER (Dulag Luft) where they stayed for 3 or 4 days. Here they had their first good meal for 3 weeks from Red Cross parcels supplies.
[inserted] [symbol] THIS APPLIES SOLELY TO TO [sic] GHP – JACKSON WENT TO AN NCO’S POW CAMP [/inserted]
Finally they were transfered to their permanent P.O.W. Camp at BARTH-VOGELSANG (Stalag Luft I) on the Baltic Coast, which they arrived at on the 3rd August, 1944. The conditions in this camp were fairly good with the Commandant observing reasonable regulations and treatment; food by means of the Red Cross parcels was adequate although there was a period of several weeks when the supply of these failed and stocks became exhausted. The camp was finally released from the Germans by the Russian advance on the 1st May, 1945, when the first week of freedom was celebrated by assisting in de-mining the local airfield, enabling Fortresses to land and evacuate ex P.O.W. back to England. During his sojourn at Stalg Luft I P/O Packham was joined about October, 1944 by S/Ldr. MACALEAVY and F/O BENSON also from 550 Squadron who had been shot down while on operations on the 28th August, 1944. After returning to England P/O Packham was informed that the whole of the rest of his crew had been taken prisoner. [symbol]
[signature] S/Ldr.
for Group Captain Commanding,
R.A.F. STATION, NORTH KILLINGHOLME.
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
Interrogation of Pilot Officer Geoff Packham on his release from prisoner of war camp
Description
An account of the resource
On his return to Great Britain after his release from prisoner of war camp, Geoff Packham was interrogated by his commanding officer. His aircraft was damaged during an operation on Sterkrade by Holten. He baled out over the Netherlands. He was captured and transferred to a Dulag Luft camp then Stalag Luft 1. The camp was liberated by the Russians on 1st May 1945.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
RAF North Killingholme
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1945-05-22
Format
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Two typewritten sheets
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Text. Service material
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MPackhamG1214349-160825-010001,
MPackhamG1214349-160825-010002
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Royal Air Force
Royal Air Force. Bomber Command
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Germany
Great Britain
Netherlands
Belgium--Antwerp
Belgium--Brussels
England--Lincolnshire
Germany--Barth
Netherlands--Holten
Germany--Oberursel
Belgium
Germany--Ruhr (Region)
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1944-06-16
1945-05-01
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Roger Dunsford
550 Squadron
aircrew
anti-aircraft fire
B-17
bale out
bombing
Dulag Luft
prisoner of war
RAF North Killingholme
Red Cross
Stalag Luft 1
-
https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/files/original/2223/39869/ABuxtonAG220823.1.mp3
5d29db5ab6d80c540b94f6fe7e7beacc
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
Buxton, Alan George
A G Buxton
Description
An account of the resource
An oral history interview with Pilot Officer Alan Buxton (- 2023, Royal Australian Air Force). He flew operations as a navigator in 617 Squadron.
The collection was catalogued by IBCC Digital Archive staff.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2022-08-23
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
IBCC Digital Archive
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
Buxton, AG
Transcribed audio recording
A resource consisting primarily of recorded human voice.
Transcription
Text transcribed from audio recording or document
JH: Hello. This is John Horsburgh. I’m here today in Northern Sydney. It’s the 23rd of August 2022 and I have the pleasure of interviewing Alan Buxton here for the IBCC Archives. Good afternoon, Alan.
AB: Good afternoon, John.
JH: Thanks. Thanks for making the time and we’ve just had a brief chat and I think we’re in for an interesting interview here. Why don’t we start off Alan by telling me where you hail from, a bit about your childhood and maybe a bit about your parents?
AB: Yes.
JH: Let’s start. Let’s start there.
AB: I was born in Parramatta on the 4th of December 1920.
JH: You’re an Eels supporter then, are you? Parramatta Eels.
AB: Well, I should be but I —
JH: Yeah.
AB: I’m not all that, you know feisty about different teams you know.
JH: Yes.
AB: Having a favourite team and that sort of thing.
JH: Yes. So did you grow up in Parramatta?
AB: I grew up, yeah my, my, my grandfather owned the Royal Hotel on the corner of Church Street and the Great Western Highway and my father worked in the hotel when he left school. He went to King’s School at Parramatta and he worked for his dad and we lived in Campbell Street, Parramatta. That wasn’t that far away from the —
JH: Yeah.
AB: From the hotel. And my other grandfather, my mother’s father he was the, he was close by at the hotel and he was a produce merchant.
JH: Yes.
AB: His name was William Walter Webb. I, I attended when I was five years of age Parramatta Public School. A little primary school and when I did start there the custom was in those days you had to write with your right hand. If you didn’t write with your right, if you picked up the pen or your slate pencil thing with your left hand teachers would come along and rap you over your knuckles with a ruler. But my mother was a bit sharp and she got a doctor’s letter to stay that I was a left hander and I wasn’t to be made to write right handed. And she produced that to the headmaster and I never ever got a hit on the knuckles because of that letter that my mother submitted to the Head. Lived in Parramatta until I was about six years of age and my dad, we moved to central Concord when my dad got a job as a vacuum salesman. The Electrolux. And he used to go around to the various houses selling Electrolux machines to, you know the various housewives which was pretty good. He was doing very well. It was quite a, you know it was an innovation and he made, he was quite comfortable. He decided he would open up a [unclear] shop.
JH: What’s that?
AB: Well, it’s now they call them a delicatessen.
JH: Oh yes, okay.
AB: And that, this was in Concord West.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And —
JH: Which is now Homebush I think.
AB: Hmmn?
JH: Near Homebush.
AB: Yeah. That’s right.
JH: Yes. I know.
AB: We were going quite, it was going quite well until the depression started and when people then didn’t have the money to be able to buy delicacies from a [unclear] shop or to have afternoon tea or morning teas at the tables because money was so tight and he went broke. And that was when in 1930 and we had a tough time during the depression years. Dad didn’t have, have a job and eventually the war started and then my dad joined up as soon as war started. Joined up the Army again after having served in the First World War.
JH: In the First World War. Yes.
AB: And he put his age back. He was, in 1939 he was forty two.
JH: Yes.
AB: And he said he was thirty four because you had, in those days you had to be over eighteen and under thirty five to get into the Army. When my dad joined up I thought to myself well I’ll join up too. So I, I went and oh prior to that I had seen an advertisement in the paper that the RAF were requiring volunteers for aircrew and there was a five year training course. So I applied for that and I got interviewed. I did tests. English, maths and I managed to pass all those subjects but when I got to the medical they knocked me back. They said, ‘You’re not fit for flying duties.’ Which was the requirement in those days.
JH: Not because you were left handed I hope.
AB: It wasn’t because I was left-handed. They told me that I, my depth perception wasn’t good enough. I wouldn’t be able to land the aircraft safely. So that was before the war started. It was around about, around about the, towards the end of 1938, early ’39. And then when war started I got a call up by the RAAF and I went through the same rigmarole. Did the tests and the result was I wasn’t fit for flying duties.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Which was the requirement in those days. In the early days. So I said to them, they said, ‘Well, you can come in as ground crew and you might be able to remuster.’ And I said, ‘Oh no. I won’t do that.’ I said, ‘I’ll join the Army instead.’
JH: Yes.
AB: So I went in to the Army.
JH: So Alan what did your father say when he, he found out that you’d joined the Army? Did he know about it?
AB: Well, I I put my age up from nineteen to twenty one and of course you didn’t have to produce your father’s mother’s written permission to join you see. So —
JH: Yeah.
AB: So, he was a bit upset about that but he said, ‘Well, what am I going to do with you son?’ He said, ‘If they put you in the infantry I’m going to tell them how old you are.’ He’s remembering the infantry of the —
JH: First World War.
AB : First World War. How crook it was. Anyhow, when I was inducted into the Survey Regiment he thought well that’s a good idea.
JH: Yes.
AB: You’re not going to be stuck in the in the trenches. He was thinking that’s what it was going to be like. And I, I trained in various camps in Australia. Eventually we went to the Middle East.
JH: By ship I presume.
AB: Hmmn?
JH: By ship.
AB: Oh yes. We —
JH: Yes.
AB: I went [laughs] by yeah by, we went to the Middle East by the first trip that the Queen Elizabeth had done as a troop ship.
JH: Yes.
AB: And when we entered, when, as you enter the ship’s doorway on the side of the ship we were handed a card. Each person got a card and on the card was where you were to be quartered and I got a card which says A deck and then a cabin number.
JH: Yes.
AB: When we eventually found out where this was we went up and got in to, inside this cabin and we had this magnificent cabin my mate, Alan [Sear] and myself and it was a luxurious cabin. We had beds. We had our own toilets and showers, a bathroom in this lovely, this lovely cabin. Anyhow, we went in there and started to unload our our kitbags et cetera and a door opened and in comes Captain Reynolds. Our captain. He said, ‘Oh, you two chaps,’ he said, ‘Repack your goods.’ He said, ‘I’m taking over this cabin.’ So —
JH: It sounded too good to be true in other words.
AB: Hmmn?
JH: It sounded too good to be true.
AB: True. Yeah, he was going to take over.
JH: JH: Yeah.
AB: So we talked amongst ourselves and said, ‘We don’t like the idea of that.’ I said, ‘Why does he get to do that?’ So we went up and found the, the ship’s purser and we told the purser who [pause] what had happened and he, he got upset. He said, ‘I decide where you go. You were given that that cabin.’ He said, ‘You’re going to stay in that cabin.’ And he, he over the loudspeaker he called Captain Reynolds into his office and told Captain Reynolds off and Captain Reynolds he was called along with a lot of other officers down to the bowels of the ship and we were in this lovely cabin on A deck. We were a bit fortunate there on our trip to the Middle East.
JH: So did that involve going up through the Suez Canal?
AB: Yes. We went up —
JH: Yes.
AB: Went up through the Suez Canal and then we, when we got to Port Tewfik we got off the ship and transferred to, to rail and we went by train into Palestine and at a campsite called Hill 95 not very far away from Gaza.
JH: Yes.
AB: We did more training there which was tough because it was so hot during the daytime and we had to do all these route marches all over the place. You know all over the sand and hills.
JH: In the footsteps of the Light Horse.
AB: All that lot. Yes. Like that.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And it was tough going but we as I said we had to [fatten our [unclear] stick our legs up] et cetera and build ourselves up and and then when the, it was in July 1941 they started the problem of going in and fighting the Vichy French. Clearing them out of Lebanon and Syria.
JH: Yes.
AB: And we joined that push and we stayed there up around the top of Syria near near the Turkish border around Homs and Aleppo and those places. We stayed up there until we were, we had to come back to Australia because the Japanese came into the war.
JH: Yes.
AB: And we got we left the Middle East in February and we got back to Australia in April.
JH: Was that ’42?
AB: ’42.
JH: 1942. Or ’41.
AB: Yeah. ’42 that was.
JH: ’42. Yeah.
AB: Then we trained in, went up to Queensland and trained to go to the jungles area up to Papua New Guinea and at that particular time the Air Force was interviewing people from the returned soldiers from the Middle East to ask them whether they’d like to transfer to the Air Force into aircrew.
JH: From what you said before I think you jumped at that didn’t you?
AB: Anyhow, a couple of us were down in Brisbane on leave and we found out all about this so we, we went to one of those offices where there were recruiting the people like [unclear] airmen and we were, went in and did the exams and then again to see whether we were good enough to get into the Air Force as aircrew and they knocked me back. I passed all the exams but when it came to the medical then I was, it was the doctors were checking me over and they, he said, ‘Well, we can’t take you. You’ve got a hernia.’ I said, ‘What’s a hernia?’ He said, ‘Well, you see that lump down there.’ He pointed to a lump down in the groin area. He said, ‘That’s a hernia and we could not have you flying with a hernia.’ So I said, I said, ‘How the hell am I to get into the Air Force? I want to get in, get in there in the early days.’ And so the chap said to me there, he said, ‘Well, the best thing you could do is when you get back to camp you go to the RAP.’ That’s the Regimental Aid Post, ‘Bend yourself over, clutch your groin and tell them you’re in awful pain.’ So I did a bit of good acting. I did that and they whipped me straight in to the hospital. Ipswich. At Ipswich.
JH: Ipswich. Yeah.
AB: The place there. And they operated on me and fixed me up. And when I came out of hospital I was sent down to a convalescent hospital down in Brisbane. And then once I got myself fit fit again I went down to the Air Force people again in Brisbane and I said, ‘Here I am. I haven’t got a hernia anymore.’ So they inspected me. He said, ‘Right,’ he says, ‘We’ll drag you out of the Army.’ So I went out of the Army on the 24th of November ’42 and I went to the Air Force on the 25th of November ’42. I was happy as a larry then.
JH: I bet you were.
AB: I was happy to get into the Air Force and we trained at, at Bradfield Park. That’s where I went to.
JH: Yes.
AB: We were posted to Bradfield Park. We had to do a rookie’s course, you know doing marching around the parade ground and rifle drill, you know with shoulder arms and all this sort of business. Slow arms you know. Blokes roaring out at us. Of course, we were being an ex-soldier we didn’t like this at all you know. Pretty grim. Anyway, we had to put up with it and eventually we were posted to Bradfield Park. We were there, we were already there. We were transferred across to the aircrew section and we were straightaway did our exams there. Once we passed those we then went to, they sent us to Canada and we went to a town in Canada called Edmonton which was number 2 AOS. Air Observer’s School. We, we did our training there and we, when we passed out I was fortunate enough along with four other chaps to be given a commission off course and I became a pilot officer after finishing that course. Then we went. They sent us across to England.
JH: Yes.
AB: And then again there was more training. Sextant training at an AFU, Advanced Flying Unit at Wigtown.
JH: Wigtown in Scotland.
AB: In Scotland.
JH: Yeah.
AB: That was a funny old place because we didn’t understand the people in the town and they didn’t understand us.
JH: Yeah. So, Alan when, when did you arrive in in Scotland? This would be I’m guessing the end of —
AB: Let me think.
JH: During early ’43.
AB: Yeah. It was, it was in [pause] No. ’43. No, I was still training in Canada then.
JH: Okay.
AB: Til, til we got, we got to England early ’44.
JH: Early ’44.
AB: It would be January ’44.
JH: Yeah. Yeah. And you had to run the gauntlet of the U-boats.
AB: Oh yeah.
JH: From Canada.
AB: Yeah. Yeah.
JH: To Scotland. Yeah.
AB: Yeah. They were, you know luckily we were, got through okay.
JH: Yes.
AB: By the time we got to Southampton it was a great sigh of relief that we were still around and they sent us up to, over to Brighton where we stayed for a short while. We were given our vouchers to go to, up to London to get measured up for our officer’s uniforms. And then we got posted to AFU at Wigtown in Scotland.
JH: Yes.
AB: After that we came down and went to our Operational Training Unit at Lichfield and that is where we crewed up.
JH: Yes. I’m always interested in, on how the crewing up happened.
AB: It was very surprising. We were, the whole of the intake with all these trainees and we had to go down to to a big hangar. We went in there and there were all these blokes in there. All these fellas getting around. Sergeants and pilot officers and et cetera and other blokes you know. Flight lieutenants. And we were then, we were told we had to crew up and that was a bit of a sort of sort of a thing. How are we going to do that? You know. So anyhow, a fellow came out. A pilot came across to me. Saw me standing there and he said, ‘My name’s Howard Gavin.’ He said, ‘How would you like to be my navigator?’ I looked him over and I said, ‘I certainly would.’ It turned out that he had already done his first tour of operations in the Middle East on on an Australian squadron, you know. Flying Wellingtons. And I imagined we were going to train on Wellingtons I thought well, this is a good idea. I’ll say yes. So then we went around and he went up looking for his bomb aimer and then at each bloke you know. That’s how we crewed up. It was fine.
JH: So, tell me were you looking for the badge they wore?
AB: Oh yes. The pilot. We were looking for —
JH: Yeah.
AB: We were looking to see you know if you were a navigator or whether you were —
JH: Yeah.
AB: A wireless air gunner.
JH: Yes.
AB: Or a tail gunner. A gunner.
JH: Okay. So how long did this, this process take? This crewing up.
AB: Oh, about an hour.
JH: Okay. I had the impression it kind of lasted for half a day [laughs]
AB: Oh, it didn’t take that long.
JH: Okay. Yeah.
AB: Well, my, no.
JH: Yeah.
AB: It might have happened like that for some people.
JH: Yes. Yeah.
AB: We were just a bit, a bit lucky.
JH: Yeah. So once you’d crewed up, you got your crew you then left the hangar.
AB: That’s right.
JH: To go and get a cup of coffee or something.
AB: We went.
JH: And get to know each other. Yeah.
AB: Have afternoon tea.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And you went to the, went to the mess hall of course and had a beer.
JH: Yes.
AB: And the, for our bomb aimer he couldn’t come with us because we were where the officers were and he was, he was a sergeant. So he went, he went off to the sergeant’s mess.
JH: Yes.
AB: So it was a bit, you know. A bit cruel.
JH: Yes. So, then you, then you, so you had your crew and then you were waiting to see where you were going to be posted. To which squadron.
AB: No, not then. That would be at at that place at the OTU.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And you trained there and you did your training.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And then you, in Wellingtons. Then when you finished that training course you went to the Heavy Conversion Unit.
JH: Yeah.
AB: At Winthorpe. That’s where I had all the problem with the with the aircraft. One of our final trips under the instruction of an English flying instructor.
JH: Tell me what happened.
AB: And that’s where, well we went across, this was in 24th of September, forty⸻, ’44. We were doing our, we did many trips night flying, daylight flying in the, in the Stirling and we’d been over to the coast of Holland and we came, this was actually night time.
JH: In a Stirling.
AB: In a Stirling. And we had to fly this course and eventually we, as we came back towards base in England which was at, at Winthorpe.
JH: Winthorpe.
AB: The engine started to catch on fire. So they feathered one and then another one would go out.
JH: This was over the North Sea still.
AB: Over the North Sea. Yeah.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And we were proceeding along there and then the next one went. So we had one engine and the skipper, the instructor, he was a flight lieutenant he said, ‘We’re going to have to ditch.’ Well, we knew what ditching meant. It wasn’t too pleasant because the chances were pretty slim of you surviving. The North Sea’s pretty cold and you had to make sure you got out and your lifeboat pumped up. You know. They pumped them up.
JH: If you were going to ditch was the wireless operator able to give their position or were they not allowed to give your position if you were going to ditch?
AB: Well, I’d already told the skipper.
JH: Yeah.
AB: That where we were when he —
JH: Yeah.
AB: Gave the instruction and I said to him, ‘We’re not that far away from the coast of England.’
JH: Yes.
AB: ‘And I think we’ll be able to get there, be able to land, turn around and aim the plane out towards the sea.’
JH: Yes.
AB: And we were able to do it ourselves. I looked at where we were at the time. I took a fix and we were on the Gee box and you could get a very accurate fix.
JH: Yeah. Because you wouldn’t want to —
AB: He did.
JH: Want to land on a beach would you? Yeah.
AB: He took notice of what I said.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And we, he took it back over the coast. We made the coast of England. Went for a little while, a few minutes and then turned around a hundred and eighty degrees and gave the order to bale out.
JH: What height were you then?
AB: Two thousand feet.
JH: Yeah.
AB: That was where we had trouble deciding how to get out of the hatch [laughs] both the bomb aimer and myself and eventually I talked the bomb aimer into going first. Which he did do and he was unable to tumble out because of the hatch way and he went out feet first, dropped down and went facing, facing the front of the aircraft and the slipstream got him and smashed his head into the hatchway.
JH: He recovered enough to pull his rip cord.
AB: Yeah. Yeah.
JH: Yeah.
AB: He did do.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And then I decided because he went forward and split the front of his head open.
JH: Yeah. He went out feet first.
AB: He went out feet first.
JH: Yeah.
AB: So I decided I’m not going to get my head smashed like that when I bale. I’ll face the back of the plane to drop out.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Feet first. And of course, the slipstream got me as well and knocked me out in the back of the head. The back of my head was split open and I was unconscious until I heard a voice telling me to open the rip, pull the rip cord. The D ring. The D ring. Pull the D ring which I did do and I had the parachute opened up and I had two swings and I got laid down beautifully right into a potato patch.
JH: How high do you think you were when you, when you jumped out?
AB: About a thousand feet.
JH: Yeah, and but this voice you heard. Tell me about that.
AB: It’s, I heard this voice telling me to [pause] and later on I was, I was on leave down in Okehampton at a couple’s place, an elderly couple and she was a Medium. And we decided to be entertained by joining in the using you know the glass for the table.
JH: A séance. Yeah.
AB: A, yeah.
JH: Yeah.
AB: They were playing around with that glass on the table which was incredible. You could feel the electricity current there. It was a very strange feeling. Powerful it was. And we were sending messages and then we sent a message to ask my grandfather whether he was around. And eventually we had, a couple of days later we had a séance where she went into a trance and when she went into the trance she changed her position. She she spread her legs like that, put her hands on her knees like that and that’s how my grandfather always sat and I asked him to speak. I wanted to talk to him.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And he told me that he was with me a short while ago when I got out of the aircraft. Now, they didn’t know that. They had no knowledge of anything of that nature of what happened.
JH: Yeah. Was she speaking in his voice?
AB: She changed her voice. She changed her voice into a different tone tone altogether. Yeah.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Yeah, she she sort of changed her voice into a man’s voice.
JH: Yes. Yeah. So it, yeah so it was his voice you heard.
AB: Yeah. Yeah. It was amazing. It was absolutely amazing.
JH: Yeah.
AB: That was incredible.
JH: I bet you’ve thought about that a lot.
AB: I have.
JH: Yeah.
AB: I did. I’ve told a lot of people about it too.
JH: Yes.
AB: Whether it, whether they think I’m stupid or not I don’t know.
JH: Yeah.
AB: But I, I was I was impressed by it.
JH: I know my father he, he really believed in that. That kind of thing.
AB: Yeah.
JH: Wow. So let’s, let’s wind forward Alan. Tell me about your first operation. What was that like?
AB: The first operation. Yes. Well, we, when we finally finished with our Lancaster Finishing School we got posted to 617 Squadron.
JH: A famous squadron.
AB: That’s the one. Yeah. We were very lucky. We were the only ones posted there.
JH: Yes.
AB: And we managed to do very well in our flying. We all got high marks as I said so they sent us to this.
JH: The elite.
AB: Yeah. Sent us to this this squadron and at the time Willie Tait, JB Tait, they used to call him Willie. He was the CO.
JH: Yeah.
AB: A very famous man.
JH: Yes. Of course.
AB: He had four DSOs, two DFCs and a mention in despatches. That was his first award in, and that was when he was in a Fairey Battle. Who would want to be in one of those? Our first operation was very early in in November ’44.
JH: ’44. Yes. Got that.
AB: And it was to the, bomb the Urft Dam. The Urft, U R F T I think it was.
JH: Oh.
AB: U R F T. Urft.
JH: Yeah. Where was that located?
AB: That’s in Germany.
JH: Yeah.
AB: We were, when we got there it was ten tenths cloud. We couldn’t see the target. These, these were daylights and of course we couldn’t see the target. We weren’t allowed to drop our bomb. We had a Tallboy on board, the twelve thousand pound Tallboy and we had to bring that back to base.
JH: So you didn’t have a bouncing type bomb.
AB: No, it was a Tallboy.
JH: Yeah. Okay.
AB: A Tallboy was a terrific machine. It, it used to spin around and had tail fins on it. It would turn around and keep straight and keep keep at an angle you know when it left the aircraft and go, it was a concrete piercing bomb. It would go through the concrete and then explode as it got through. It was a brilliant bomb designed by Barnes Wallis.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And so then we went back and did the Urft Dam again. Again it was ten tenths cloud. So we weren’t too happy because we hadn’t had to drop that bomb. Had to bring it back again.
JH: So you —
AB: And no.
JH: Could you still log it as an operation even though —
AB: Oh yes. Yes.
JH: Yes. It did count. Yeah.
AB: It counted.
JH: Yeah. Yeah.
AB: Each time you took off and made the trip it would be counted. Yeah.
JH: And let me ask how many aircraft in that operation?
AB: We had about twenty two.
JH: Twenty two. Yeah. Any support?
AB: No.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Just on our own.
JH: Yeah.
AB: We never had any support.
JH: Yeah.
AB: 617 was, sometimes you’d fly with 9 Squadron.
JH: Yeah.
AB: That would have made a bigger target but a few times they went with a bit, we went after the Tirpitz. 9 going with 617 up there.
JH: Did they link up with the Pathfinders on that sort of raid?
AB: We never had Pathfinders.
JH: Yeah.
AB: We were we were our own Pathfinders.
JH: Yeah.
AB: We didn’t need, didn’t have them.
JH: Yeah.
AB: A Pathfinder.
JH: So did you go back a third time?
AB: No.
JH: Yeah.
AB: They decided that they wouldn’t waste our time.
JH: Okay. What about your next operation?
AB: Oh dear.
JH: Can you remember that?
AB: No. Oh.
JH: That would have been a bombing. Another bombing run.
AB: Yeah. Where yes ah that’s right. We went to Ijmuiden.
JH: Oh.
AB: In Holland.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Ijmuiden. And we, we attacked E-boat pens and submarine pens there.
JH: God. Successful?
AB: Yes. Very.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Yeah. Oh, the bombs were good.
JH: Yeah.
AB: They went through the concrete supports.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And blew up inside you know.
JH: Yeah.
AB: But then, then we went to another one in Holland the same sort of thing. Poortershaven.
JH: Poortershaven.
JH: Poortershaven.
AB: In Holland. Yeah.
AB: Another one.
JH: Another, another port. Yeah.
AB: The same sort of thing.
JH: Yeah.
AB: E-boat pens and submarine pens. Later on, many years later it was in the ‘90s I got a letter from an historian who was at, he was at Poortershaven and he he told us you know in the letter he said there had been intelligence that told them to get the Dutch out of out of the way and warned them. Get the Dutch out of the way as they were going to come over and bomb.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Yeah. And this bloke said, and he said, ‘We commend you. Not one Dutchman got killed.’
JH: That’s amazing.
AB: Yeah. Yeah.
JH: Yeah. That’s incredible attacking those pens because they were real fortresses weren’t they?
AB: Oh yeah. Yeah. They were.
JH: Yeah.
AB: We went up to Bergen as well. Before we went to Bergen they, a group of commandos, Englishmen, red beret blokes came out to our squadron and they were, they trained with us. We were going to drop them. Drop them in the fjord and they had these fabled boats and then they were supposed to be going ashore and attacking the heavy water plants. You know the heavy water plants they had built outside Bergen?
JH: Yes.
AB: The Germans had that.
JH: Yes.
AB: But they decided it was just too risky. They didn’t go ahead with that but we went up and bombed the E-boat submarine pens up there as well. The Germans had them up there as well.
JH: Was this daylight or at night time?
AB: No, we we always left at night time.
JH: Yes.
AB: To get there in the daytime.
JH: Okay.
AB: Because we had to visually sight our target.
JH: Well, you were flying up the fjords I guess towards the target.
AB: But, we, we went up to Lossiemouth to refuel up there.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And then we went off to, flew out to Bergen. We flew just above the deck low flying to get under the radar.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And we then when we got up near Bergen we made height and dropped our bombs on the E-boat —
JH: Yeah.
AB: And submarine pens up there.
JH: By then it was morning. You could see.
AB: Oh yeah.
JH: Yeah. Yeah.
AB: Yeah.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Yeah. You always, you were trying to get to your target in daylight.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Yeah, because you had to sight your target and take your photographs.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And if you, if you, if you didn’t drop your bombs where you should do you when you, it meant that when you the next day or when you got back you’d be up doing practice bombing in the Wash.
JH: Yeah. Good incentive.
AB: Hmmn?
JH: Good incentive to be on target.
AB: Yeah, oh yes.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Good. They were very [pause] and we we we did another one which was quite interesting.
JH: Yes.
AB: Berchtesgaden.
JH: I know that place. I’ve been there.
AB: Been there. Yeah. I know, I’ve been there too. I’ve been there on the ground as well. The, that was on ANZAC Day ’45 and our target was the the big shaft. The air shaft.
JH: Yes. Where the lift is going up.
AB: There wasn’t any lift then. That’s where they put it. And we would put our bomb down that shaft. Well, we flew around that for about twenty five minutes and could not find the shaft. And later on, years later when I went to Berchtesgaden.
JH: Yeah.
AB: I walked up beyond the, out to go up in the lift.
JH: You go up in the lift.
AB: Yeah.
JH: And then you can walk.
AB: And then I walked —
JH: Yeah.
AB: Up the hill a bit. Up the mountain.
JH: Yes.
AB: Looked back on where it was all snowy. All snow. And I said no wonder we couldn’t see it because they had, they had camouflage nets and a cover over the top of the shaft. That’s why we couldn’t find it. So we had to bring our bomb back to England again.
JH: Yeah.
AB: On that occasion.
JH: Yes.
AB: That was the last operation that that was done by 617 in Europe.
JH: That was the last. I believe that was the last Bomber Command operation in the second world war. I’m not too quite sure but that may be so. I read that somewhere.
AB: We led, we led, 617 Squadron led a big main force group. Main force. And about four hundred planes came after us. We had the honour of being the first there to⸻
JH: To Berchtesgaden. Yeah.
AB: Different crews had different targets and they were all targeting where these Nazis had their, a resource they used to go down on.
JH: Yeah.
AB: To spend leave in. Yeah. And then main force followed after we we got there and dropped a few more bombs.
JH: Yeah.
AB: On Berchtesgaden. It’s a beautiful town. But later on when I went and saw it.
JH: Yes.
AB: In 1980 it was, you wouldn’t have known it had been, it had been bombed at all.
JH: Yes.
AB: That was happening all around you. I went back to different places where we, where the place had been bombed heavily and they’d reconstructed it so good.
JH: Yes.
AB: Amazing. They did did a remarkable job of reconstructing.
JH: I was there maybe four years ago and I noticed there was absolutely no Nazi insignia anywhere. Even when they were carved in stone. It’s all been removed.
AB: it’s been removed.
JH: Yes.
AB: Yeah.
JH: Yeah. Okay. Well, last operation. So what happened then? You stayed on in the UK.
AB: What they were doing then the Australian, the RAAF people over there decided they would send a squadron out to Okinawa to bomb Japan. So myself and a couple of other members of our crew volunteered to go, to go out to to Okinawa and the squadron was 467 Squadron and that was, that was located in in Metheringham. And that was an enormous contrast to our location in Woodhall Spa while we were on 617 Squadron. The officer’s mess was the magnificent Petwood Hotel.
JH: I’ve been there. The Guy Gibson Bar.
AB: Yeah. That’s right.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Yeah, that was, we were upstairs. Our quarters were upstairs and they had a not not far from the bar was a billiard room. Is that still there?
JH: I’m not quite sure.
AB: They had a billiard room and my wireless operator and myself we were we didn’t drink but we played snooker in there in our spare time between when we went flying.
JH: Yes.
AB: The rest of the crew would get on at the grog but we, being teetotallers we we played snooker all the time and we got quite good at it actually.
JH: And you cleaned them up.
AB: You see when we got there we got good. Yeah. I took to it quite well.
JH: What a lovely place that is.
AB: It’s a beautiful spot isn’t it?
JH: Yeah.
AB: Yeah. They were I’ve got pictures of it on the computer.
JH: I’d like to go back there.
AB: When I went back to England in ’91 and did did a tour of England. Hired a car and drove all over England and Scotland and Wales. I did not go back to Woodhall Spa. I don’t know why I didn’t go back to show Marie, my wife.
JH: You didn’t want to go back or —
AB: I just for some reason or other it didn’t occur to me.
JH: Yeah.
AB: To go back and have a look at it. I can remember it quite clearly. I remember where we slept and who was in the room with us. We had, there were six of us. Six of us in a very big big room. It had a big balcony and there was a couple of blokes slept out on the balcony. It had a roof over it of course. And there were my pilot and myself and there were four English. Well, English men there.
JH: So, so in your crew in 617 how many Australians in the crew?
AB: Six.
JH: Six. One English.
AB: And one English.
JH: Yeah.
AB: An English flight engineer.
JH: Now, Alan so did you get to Japan in the end?
AB: Ah now.
JH: Yes, sorry.
AB: We we we again trained heavily.
JH: Yeah.
AB: On 467 Squadron and incidentally we were quartered in Nissen huts which was quite a contrast [laughs] to the Petwood Hotel. We didn’t have any, didn’t have any priority about good quarters whether you were an officer or not. We were and we had our final embarkation leave and they dropped the atom bomb on Hiroshima. Then they dropped the next one on Nagasaki. We were, then we were stood down and that was, that’s what was in, that was in —
JH: That was a shock for you.
AB: That was in August I think.
JH: Just as well you weren’t over in that area.
AB: Well, in a way yes because probably might not have been here to tell the tale. It was, it was quite in a way we were a little bit sad but then also overjoyed.
JH: Yes.
AB: You know, we were sort of really keen to go and do something to those Japs.
JH: Yeah.
AB: We’d been reading and hearing a lot about what the Japs were doing.
JH: But that meant starting about going home.
AB: Yeah. Well, we left. We came home on the Athlone Castle and we got home around about February ’46. During the war when I came out of the Middle East I got married. I married my sweetheart and, and while I was away in Canada she gave birth to a son. [unclear] it was quite a, I didn’t realise at the time that when I got married that I was going to have a son.
JH: Yes.
AB: While the war was still on.
JH: When you were in [pause] when you were in Canada.
AB: I was in Canada. Yeah.
JH: Yes.
AB: Edmonton. That was on the 3rd of November ’43.
JH: So you hadn’t seen much of him at all.
AB: Hadn’t seen him at all until he was, until February ’46.
JH: Yes.
AB: He didn’t know who I was.
JH: Gosh. Yeah.
AB: I was a stranger. Took a while to get for him to know who I was, you know.
JH: Yes.
AB: Took a long long while.
JH: Yes.
AB: It was a real bad period really.
JH: Yeah.
AB: I I used to get quite annoyed about it, you know.
JH: Yes.
AB: He’d go to his grandfather all the time.
JH: Yes. Yeah.
AB: He wouldn’t come near me.
JH: Yes.
AB: Yeah. But anyhow after the war the war ended we ended up having another three children. Another son in 1948. Then a daughter in ’49.
JH: Yes.
AB: And then another daughter in ’52. So we had —
JH: Four in the family.
AB: Four in the family.
JH: Yeah.
AB: Two boys and two girls and one of the boys is, both boys, the eldest boy when he was about nineteen he joined the the Army.
JH: Yeah.
AB: And he did twenty one years in the Army. He was in Malaya, Borneo and Vietnam and he was, the youngest boy when he turned, I don’t know what it was he had his name pulled out the barrel to go to Vietnam. They had a —
JH: Yes, I know.
AB: Birthday barrel.
JH: Yes.
AB: Yeah. He went to Vietnam and unfortunately he he passed away when he was sixty three. He had cancer.
JH: Oh.
AB: Caused by his term in Vietnam. The Agent Orange. The Yanks dropped all this.
JH: Yes, I know.
AB: You know, Agent Orange and he he eventually he got this cancer and passed away in 2011. And the other boy and he was actually in the infantry. A young fella.
JH: Yes.
AB: The eldest boy had been in there for twenty one years. He was in the signals. So quite a bit of difference. He was mainly around the base area.
JH: Yes. So he wasn’t exposed.
AB: He wasn’t exposed.
JH: To the Agent Orange. Yeah.
AB: He wasn’t exposed as much as his brother was.
JH: Yeah. Well, that’s amazing that this you’ve got three generations in your family in the Army.
AB: Yes. Dad. Dad in both wars. The two boys. My sisters. Both sisters in the Women’s Army. Both my sisters.
JH: The Buxton’s have done their bit. More than done their bit, Alan.
AB: We’ve had a lot of experience in the Services. Yeah.
JH: You must be very proud of them all. Yeah.
AB: Very much so.
JH: Yeah. Yes. And you were telling me before eventually you found your feet career wise and joined Shell.
AB: That’s right and I worked there.
JH: And was that in Sydney or did you have to go —
AB: No. Sydney.
JH: To Melbourne.
AB: I was in the head, in the Sydney office. And then when they decided to build, or enlarge the refinery that John Fell owned in the Clyde. Clyde Refinery —
JH: Yes.
AB: I was transferred out to Clyde Refinery in ‘19⸻ I moved up. I was living at Narrabeen at the time.
JH: Yes.
AB: And I moved up to Eastwick and I got a transfer, a company transfer which was good.
JH: Were you with Shell all your, all your working career.
AB: No, before, before the war I was with Australian [Soaps] for a living.
JH: Yes. Okay.
AB: We can still see it’s Alexandria.
JH: Alexandria. Yes. You see, I know Alexandria well. Yeah.
AB: Well, I was with them until [laughs] and I was I was actually had the honour of being the first bloke to join the Services and when, when I was going out the gate the managing director Mr Harrison, a lovely old Scotsman he came out to me and he handed me an envelope. He said and wished me good luck and when I opened that envelope up he’d given me a ten pound note. I mean I was only getting one pound seventeen and sixpence a week and I ended up with a ten pound note. I thought I was made [laughs] Ten pound.
AB: It would have seemed like the lottery. Yeah.
JH: At the time because when, you know.
AB: Yeah.
JH: My pay was six pence a week.
AB: What a gesture.
JH: Hmmn?
AB: What a gesture.
JH: Oh, I thought it was wonderful. Yeah.
AB: Yeah. Have you still got the ten pound note?
JH: No.
AB: Okay [laughs]
JH: I spent that.
AB: Of course.
JH: I needed it. I didn’t have any —
JH: Yeah.
AB: Any money. Any money much in those days.
JH: Yeah. Well, Alan I can’t get over this interview. It’s really amazing. It’s quite a story. I need to have a lie down, a cup of tea and digest it all.
AB: Do you want a cup of tea now?
JH: Oh, now that sounds a great idea. I didn’t say that [laughs]
AB: Oh, I’ll see what I can.
JH: But yeah, I wouldn’t mind a cup.
AB: I’ll see if I can —
JH: So shall we, shall we wind it up and —
AB: Okay. Go on.
JH: So, I really would like to thank you for, for doing the interview. So, this is for the IBCC.
AB: Yeah.
JH: Veterans Interview Project and I think that that so that interview your your family can, can go in and listen to it or if anyone visits Lincolnshire they can go and listen to it.
AB: Oh right.
JH: The Bomber Command Centre there is quite something. I was there at the opening. And so Alan thanks very much.
AB: I get the information. You know these lads that found the plane, Stuart [McRory] and his brother Bruce on the work that has been done to restoring the Lancaster Just Jane.
JH: Yes.
AB: You know.
JH: Yes. Yeah.
JH: I’ve seen it.
AB: You’ve seen it.
JH: Yeah.
AB: They’re doing that restoration. It’s going on. It’s been going for years with this restoration.
JH: Yeah. Yeah.
AB: They use it. Normally it’s only used for taxi runs.
JH: Yes.
AB: Stuart, Stuart and his brother Bruce they’ve done the taxi ride. They charge fifty pounds to do the taxi ride up and down the runway.
JH: Fantastic. Yeah.
AB: Yeah. And —
JH: Well, on that note Alan I’m going to wind up here. Thanks very much.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Interview with Alan George Buxton
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
John Horsburgh
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2022-08-23
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Sound
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
01:06:36 Audio Recording
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
ABuxtonAG220823
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1942
1943-11-03
1944-01
1944-09-24
1944-11
1945-04-25
1946-02
Spatial Coverage
Spatial characteristics of the resource.
Australia
Canada
Germany
Great Britain
Netherlands
Norway
Queensland
Alberta--Edmonton
England--Lincolnshire
England--Nottinghamshire
Germany--Berchtesgaden
Norway--Bergen
Queensland--Brisbane
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 Australian Air Force
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Description
An account of the resource
Alan was born in Parramatta, Sydney, in Australia. After going to the Middle East with the army, he returned to Australia, when Japan entered the war, and transferred to the RAF in November 1942.
Alan was posted to Bradfield Park for training and then to No. 2 Air Observers’ School in Edmonton, Canada. He was given a commission as a pilot officer and went to the Advanced Flying Unit at RAF Wigtown in Scotland, followed by the Operational Training Unit at RAF Lichfield. Alan describes the process of crewing up. He trained on Wellingtons and then went to the Heavy Conversion Unit at RAF Winthorpe. Alan describes the night they had to parachute from their Stirling after a trip to the coast of Holland.
After Lancaster Finishing School, Alan was posted to 617 Squadron where the Commanding Officer was J B “Willie” Tait. His first operation in November 1944 was to bomb the Urft Dam in Germany but it was too cloudy to release the 12,000 lb Tallboy bomb on board. A second attempt was also unsuccessful. Alan then refers to two operations in the Netherlands where U-boat pens were bombed. Bergen was another operation. On 25 April 1945, their target was Berchtesgaden, their last operation leading a Main Force Group of 400 aircraft.
Alan then went to 467 Squadron at RAF Metheringham. After the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, they were no longer required to go to Okanawa. Alan returned to Australia in February 1946 and joined Shell company in Sidney.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Sally Coulter
Julie Williams
Carolyn Emery
467 Squadron
617 Squadron
Advanced Flying Unit
Air Observers School
aircrew
bale out
bombing
crewing up
Gee
Heavy Conversion Unit
Lancaster Finishing School
love and romance
mess
military living conditions
navigator
observer
Operational Training Unit
RAF Lichfield
RAF Metheringham
RAF Wigtown
RAF Winthorpe
RAF Woodhall Spa
Stirling
submarine
superstition
Tallboy
training
Wellington