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Lyneham Lad
17th Jun 2016, 12:41
Drearyham - aka East Dereham (as was).

PS - having spent over four very happy years at Valley - I can vouch for Holyhead's delights :0

Danny42C
19th Jun 2016, 16:35
MPN11 (your #8719 13th June),
...(I really should start a Thread about "Gaining an ATCO's Certificate of Competency post-WW2" )...
It was a good idea then - and it's a good idea now. Might I suggest: "...A RAF ATCO's..." What do you say, chaps and chapesses ? Nem Con ? All right, the Ayes have it ! All together now:
♫...Why are we wait-ing...♫

Danny.

MPN11
19th Jun 2016, 19:18
Noted, Danny42C ... I humbly await other encouragement before venturing forth.

It would, however, stop me cluttering this significant thread with my ATC meanderings about days gone by.

Wander00
19th Jun 2016, 19:36
I should be interested to hear the view from the other side of the microphone, not least because the fact I am here is largely due to a talk-down controller at St Mawgan in 67/68. We are six T17s on task between Ballykelly and St M when someone listening on HF hears that Shacks are being diverted as far as Gib due to UK going out rapidly in fog. In our lot I am the only "white" card, (which makes it 67) and I get put at the top of the stack. There is NO diversion. My break-off about 860 ft, and the base is being called as 3-500'. Plan is we make one, perhaps 2 attempts with a BO of 300' on the radalt. If unsuccessful, fly over the airfield at 1000' and bang the guys out of the back and then I take the aeroplane out to sea and throw Aunty Betty's aeroplane away. First attempt perfect talkdown, straight down the slot, lights at 300' and land. Could hardly see the "Follow Me". Taxied in, open the door and flt cdr's (ED) first words are "What's your f'ing break off?" Took me on one side told me to consider myself bollocked, and he would buy me the first beer! Sticks in my mind almost 50 years later, and I can still visualise the approach. Did go and thank the controller though.

Danny42C
19th Jun 2016, 20:36
MPN11,
...It would, however, stop me cluttering this significant thread with my ATC meanderings about days gone by...
No such thought entered my mind, Sir ! It is entirely your choice whether you Post, and if so, where and how you choose to do so. And:
...cluttering .......... with my ATC meanderings about days gone by...
Pilots and ATC have been in "double harness", as it were, since the days when a "Duty Pilot" provided "Flying Control". There is a natural affinity between our trades. In any case, as I've often said of this Prince of Threads: "All's grist that comes to this mill".
...about days gone by...
What else is our title about ? WWII ended 71 years ago. You put in an appearance around then !
...I humbly await other encouragement before venturing forth...
Well, you "others", the ball's in your court now. Should he go or should he stay ? (funny, seem's there's a lot of hoo-ha about another question of that sort just at the moment).

Danny.

Warmtoast
20th Jun 2016, 11:49
ATCO Assistant Under Training (on the job training)

http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/RAF%20Thornhill/ThornhillATC2_zpsfe7ac14b.jpg
Warmtoast at 5 FTS (RAF Thornhill, S. Rhodesia) 1951)

Danny42C
20th Jun 2016, 16:22
Warmtoast,

A fine figure of a man ! The ideal ATC(A), poised for action ! Spotless KD, eyes fixed in thousand-yard stare, finger on button, ready to save his Controller from self-inflicted aircraft disaster and a Fate Worse than Death (posting to Area Radar ?)

Then reality (His Master's Voice) breaks in: "Hoskins, stop gawking through that window, get off your @rse, find my chinagraph, empty the ashtray - and make me a bloody cuppa !"

Ah well.....One day....

Danny.

MPN11
20th Jun 2016, 18:42
How many Map Pins with callsigns written on them can one man cope with?

I need a deconstruction of WTF all that desk is full of, please, Warmtoast.

Fareastdriver
20th Jun 2016, 18:52
If any of the lights flash he has to push the switch that he has got his finger on.

Danny42C
20th Jun 2016, 20:31
You can't keep a bad story down !

An old Thread has come back to life:
...PPRuNe Forums > Misc. Forums > Aviation History and Nostalgia
........Spitfires found in Burma...
Didn't believe it then and don't believe it now. But there's always one...... (Posted by "maliyahsdad" Page 15 #286 on Thread above):
...Hunt for legendary Spitfires buried in Burma is back on - Birmingham Mail...
Watch this space and enjoy !

Danny.

Warmtoast
20th Jun 2016, 22:33
MPN11
How many Map Pins with callsigns written on them can one man cope with?
I need a deconstruction of WTF all that desk is full of, please, Warmtoast.

The board was designed locally to try and keep tabs on the station's various aircraft as they started, taxied, took-off and either did circuits and bumps or left the local area and vice-versa as they returned - ISTR it never did what it was designed to do with any degree of success, but as Thornhill had 27 Chipmunks, 60 Harvards and a variety of Ansons on strength it was not surprising!
In the absence of an ATCO who knew(?) how it worked and when tasked to man it in his absence I found it fiendishly complicated to use.

I never was an ATCO, but filled in my early days at RAF Thornhill (5 FTS), S. Rhodesia as an Air Traffic Control Assistant, probably the lowest form of life in the control tower apart from the tea lady.

http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/RAF%20Thornhill/ThornhillATC_zps8cdbf15a.jpg

...the Thornhill ATC with someone shining an Aldis lamp at me as I took the photo.

esa-aardvark
21st Jun 2016, 09:47
My late Father told me of burying stuff, including Merlin engines at an
airfield in Scotland. The airfield was to be handed over to the Navy and
lots of stuff had to be got rid off. Before you go looking he also told me the locals
were looking at what they were doing and he did'nt think it stayed in the ground
very long.

Perhaps the Spitfires really existed and the locals dug them and made them
into something usefull.
John

Stanwell
21st Jun 2016, 09:59
Of course, John.
The rear-view mirror housings make really good soup ladles.
Now, I've just gotta work out what I can do with this Merlin block. :E

Danny42C
21st Jun 2016, 11:06
Warmtoast,
...The board was designed locally to try and keep tabs on the station's various aircraft as they started, taxied, took-off and either did circuits and bumps or left the local area and vice-versa as they returned...
Now I call that overkill ! No wonder it didn't work.
...apart from the tea lady...
TEA LADY ? TEA LADY ? Tea Lady ? ....... Who ever heard of such a thing ?... What did we pay you for ? Do you think you're a Civil Servant, perhaps ?
...the Thornhill ATC with someone shining an Aldis lamp at me as I took the photo...
Jammy ! What a Des Res !....Lucky it was just an Aldis - not a Verey pistol.
...I never was an ATCO...
Very wise. But went on to higher things, I'm sure.

Danny.

MPN11
21st Jun 2016, 11:17
Tengah Tower in the late 60s also had a Locally Employed Person in the shape of young Frank Goh, a Chinese in his early 20s. Frank would make the brews, pop down to the Coke machine in the entrance lobby [20c bottle, IIRC] for you, and did the general cleaning. Fond memories of Frank - jolly good chap all round.

In a normal Tower, it was of course the lot of the AATCs to make the brews, as the ATCOs were usually chained to their consoles by a headset cable. However, in a 'nice' Tower, you did occasionally find that a slack/spare ATCO will do the job, especially if the AATCs are particularly busy. And as SATCO Waddington, one of my self-appointed "War Roles" on callouts was to fill and switch on the water boiler, so that the crew could have a brew once they'd done all the essential tasks [at whatever ghastly hour the sirens had gone off!]. ;)

Danny42C
21st Jun 2016, 11:41
esa aardvark and Stanwell,

At the war's end, there were dark stories in India/Burma about unwanted Merlin engines being used for road-fill. No idea if it was true.

Danny.

Fantome
21st Jun 2016, 13:07
Danny haven't heard HMV for years. It was my nick-name for the owner/chief pilot of a little seaplane scenic business at Port Arthur in SE Tasmania.
Should not speak ill of the dead but he was far and away the worst case ever of raving on with an authority he did not possess. He never spoke with you . . . he intoned at you . . he subjected you to a parade ground barrage of this-I-believe. Still the subject of bad dreams (wife has no sympathy "oh you poor little hot house flower". . . gotta love a woman with balls even if she can rarely put herself in the picture . . or even care to try.)

The only story of his I can bear relating concerned his time as a fitter in the RAAF at the Catalina base Rathmines on Lake Macquarie near Newcastle where the base was in the throes of closing . . so around 1955. On friday evenings as men were getting ready to go into town they'd flog some juice to put in sundry bikes or cars . The way this went was fix bayonets stand on roof of car under wing of Cat with bucket. Thrust bayonet into wing tank . Try to catch the spoils without any spillage or slop to spoil your evening's chances.

thinking of lady's of a certain disposition there was one who flew the aircraft of a leading multi national company round Australia. She was a lovely person with quite a deep voice especially on the radio. Uncouth men in the ranks of GA referred to her as 'Bonny with balls'.

Danny42C
21st Jun 2016, 13:53
Fantome,

Makes sense (so long as the Cat never to be used again !). Have just had to part with faithful old Seat Toledo. Seventeen years young, looked and ran like new - except that top gear in autobox had just gone AWOL. Even to have a look at it would cost more than car was worth.

Went for scrap a fortnight ago (broken up for parts, I suppose, before hulk crushed). Nearly new tyres and a tank full of petrol. Now who would get that, do you suppose ?

Time to hang up our driving gloves for good (Mrs D, and I). 77 years clean licence (62 for her). Ah well (daughter has retired from NHS, bought house three doors away, will ferry us around).

End of an era !

Danny.

Fantome
21st Jun 2016, 14:46
Danny how good you can go to your keyboard and give us a poignant whiff of the loss of mobility and what a wrench it must be to have to swallow this virtual grounding. Age and loss of privilege . . . every case is different and most cases have a common thread.
The fact that your mind is very much alive has been shown here right from the first day you tripped onto the PP stage ready for anything the crowd . . including the silent majority . . might dish up in response.

From an antipodean angle . . for every one of your anecdotes there are a similar number told and sadly not told lodged in men and womens' grey stuff all round Australia . A sense of history. . .a sense of belonging to a culture an ethos and at root the human race . . that is the cement that holds the mosaic in place. You have carried a brilliant torch and continue to do so. Tend that flame, Sir. .
..and "always look on the bright side of life .. "

Fareastdriver
21st Jun 2016, 15:02
There was a Constellation freighter that made a spectacular arrival at Belize Airport. No 1 prop o/speed and the engine caught fire, the prop went into No2 which stopped suddenly, broke the top engine mounting and descended into and jammed the port undercarriage. It landed on the nosewheel and starboard mainwheel before slewing into the grass. Nobody hurt and there was no further danger.

This was during the stand off between Guatemala and Belize and there were considerable British armed forces there in including Harriers and Pumas. There was an anti-aircraft presence and the airport was secured by the Army and the RAF Regiment.

Despite that the aircraft evaporated until there was just two engines and their propellers left.

Danny42C
21st Jun 2016, 15:47
Fantome,
...and "always look on the bright side of life ... "
Agreed - and the Title above expresses the spirit of the Dunkirk Generation. "Mrs Mopp" was probably well before your time, but Wiki knows all about it.

This Thread has been my hobby ever since the day six years ago, when my daughter brought her laptop home and showed me how to play with it.

It is encouraging to see our "Crewroom in Cyberspace" going full blast again. One day it will fade away (as all old soldiers must) but not yet, I hope.

Danny.

Fantome
21st Jun 2016, 18:42
now that was A Connie in Belize that would not give in easily.

Somewhere in James Sinclair's marvellous history of aviation in PNG 1920 -1939 WINGS OF GOLD there is an account of one of Guinea Airways Junkers
throwing a prop blade on take-off down the steep grass strip at Bulolo or Wau.
The engine parted company as the pilot hauling on the anchors kept pace with this independently minded power plant till they came to a stop at the far end of the strip.

If I had not lent my copy I'd copy out the account as it is much more colourful and dramatic than the above.

MPN11
21st Jun 2016, 18:58
It is encouraging to see our "Crewroom in Cyberspace" going full blast again. One day it will fade away (as all old soldiers must) but not yet, I hope.Never forget that the Old Farts will be replaced by Middle-Aged Farts, and Young Farts, and so on ad infinitum ;)

On 5 Jun 08, cliffnemo in his 93rd year laid a foundation stone by starting this Thread of Threads. As some depart to the Great Blue Yonder, others will meander into the Cyber Crew Room for a coffee and a chat.

WIWOLs will thrust, of course, as will many others. Hopefully a decade or three from now they will be deriding the Tucano/Hawk regime, and saying how easy it was to go straight onto the F-35 from Cranwell and a Simulator!

Fantome
22nd Jun 2016, 01:50
could the character with the aldis at Thornhill be flashing -

THREE DITS . .. FOUR DITS . .. TWO DITS. .. .DAH ?

Danny42C
22nd Jun 2016, 09:51
Fantome,

Recalls my ITW days at Newquay. One party at top of cliff with their Aldis. Second party on sands with theirs.

Exchange of signals: "FOCUS"......."WOT - ALL OF US" ?

Danny.

Danny42C
22nd Jun 2016, 12:21
Chugalug,

We are so deep in the mire on this now, that I thought it would help if I appended a copy of the consecutive messages (some failed) exchanged between us so far. First thank you for the detailed instruction on the Vital Actions to be taken when my PM Inbox is nearing 100%. You had explained all this me this years ago, and I've been doing it ever since on my PM Inbox. Getting cheesed off with the trouble involved, and heartened by Wee Jeem's gmail to me recently, and seeing how easy it was, and that there is no limit to worry about, I decided to try it out on a message to you. It doesn't seem to have worked too well !)

If you are "on frequency" here, you may recall your p.117 #2338 of four years ago.
...Danny, you have the devastating authority of an Antiques Roadshow expert disillusioning the proud owner of an objet d'art! So other than the T&S and Altimeter my prized fully instrumented panel is basically a fake? Oh, the embarrassment and the shame of it all! I suppose to be fair to Mr Daniel, he did say that all the Flight Instruments are genuinely of WWII vintage, rather than genuinely out of PT-17's. Sort of a "They're all the right instruments, Sunshine, though not necessarily in the right place!". At least if it appears on ebay we will be forewarned...
I then put in (#8778):

Here is the genuine article (pity the lower half is obscured by the modern 'gubbins', but you get the idea !)

Source:
From megan,
PPRuNe Forums > Non-Airline Forums > Private Flying>Tracey Curtis-Taylor (Merged threads)>Page 17. #323> link.

Does even the shape agree with your "specimen" ?

Cheers, Danny.

http://www.abc.net.au/news/image/7064402-3x2-940x627.jpg

EDIT: I should have included the caption to the picture above:
...Cockpit of 1940s era biplane, with modern addition of satellite navigation...
I assumed from the context that it was a Stearman. But the panel shown incorporates a manifold pressure gauge as well as an RPM indicator. If the prop was either fixed or two-position, you would not need a manifold pressure. So it's a constant-speed prop. AFAIK, no Stearman (or any other "1940s era biplane" would have a CSU). So it's a Stearman (or whatever) with modern instruments and a Constant-Speed Prop.

Should've noticed that before !

D.

RECORD OF MESSAGES EXCHANGED BY CHUGALUG2 and DANNY42C

[email protected] ([email protected]) 23.6.16 09.56

#####,

Salutations to my revered Mentor !
This is just to let you know that I've stumbled on a pic of pukka 1942 Stearman instrument panel and Posted it yesterday on "Pilot's Brevet" Thread, which has recently sprung to life again after some time in the doldrums.
Of course, in my rear cockpit the ASI would have been taken out. Can't remember any blank holes, though. Perhaps they put something else in - a clock, perhaps ?
I am doing this as a PPRuNe email as my PM bunged up (although I use the method you told me - copy to a Desktop file and then delete). You do not need to answer it in any way - it's just a pointer.
Regards,******
............................................

To; [email protected] 23rd Jun 2016 15.14

######,
Your PPRuNemail came in at 0942 (?) but inbox says "Error - cannot read". No idea what to do. Suggest you just acknowledge briefly on open Post on "Pilot's Brevet" as easiest way, but only if you wish.
Cheers, ******
............................................................ .
To: [email protected] 23.6.16. 1707

######,
Yours of 1451 came in - same again ! There's a jinx on this. Never mind, give up on this. Just look in on "Pilot's Brevet" if you wish.
******.
............................................................ ..

Private Message: Re: Stearman Instrument Panel.
24th Jun 2016, 23:34
Chugalug2

Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: West Sussex
Age: 74
Posts: 3,232
Re: Stearman Instrument Panel.
Hello *******,
Sorry to hear that you are having trouble with disappearing entries in your inbox. Not sure if you mean emails or PPRuNe PMs, as you say you can fall back on PM's anyway. If emails, I'd need to know which email system that you use, ie Internet Explorer, gmail, virginmail, etc. Whichever system it is, I suspect that your missing emails are somewhere, and can be recovered. If it is PM's and you haven't deleted them, then again they should be there somewhere, though there is a limit to PMs (150 I think), and then the system won't accept anymore into your inbox. If that is the case you won't see this one, so if you can then that isn't the case either.
I'll await an answer to this and then we can take it from there.
Very best wishes,
#####

Quote:
Originally Posted by Danny42C
#####,
This is no good ! Trouble may well be at my end, as now all entries in my inbox after 17 June have disappeared (and I certainly haven't deleted them).
A week or two ago a PPRuNemail from Wee Jeem came in all right, so the system has worked.
Never mind, fall back on PMs. It was just a pointer to the pic I'd found and put in on "Pilot's Brevet" anyway. No need to answer this, Robin.
Cheers, ******.
--------------------------------------
Quick reply to this message
Old 25th Jun 2016, 10:22
#8795 (permalink)
Chugalug2

Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: West Sussex
Age: 74
Posts: 3,232
Apologies to all for an intrusion of a purely administrative nature. Hopefully I can keep it brief!
Danny, you sent me a PM saying that you are missing messages from your inbox that you haven't deleted. If I have this right then the only explanation that I can think of is that your PMs (sent, received, saved) have topped out at 150 (the max allowed). The total should show when you go to inbox.
If that is the case I suggest that you open a new file in My Docs called "PPRuNe PMs" or some such (Right click to create a new file).
Then go to your inbox where there is a section called "Older Messages" with a total (let's say 100) and a tick box next to it.
If you tick that box and then scroll to the bottom of the page you will find a menu for "Selected Messages".
I suggest "Download as text", then "Go", and the 100 messages will produce a text document of them all which you can select under "file" as "Save As".
Put a number like 001 at the end of the title you give it, and navigate the box above to My Docs, PPRuNe PMs (etc), and click Save.
Your older messages are now stored in that folder and can then be deleted en-bloc from your PMs with the same drop down menu at the bottom of the page but this time selecting Delete, thus reducing your content to 50 in our example. You should then receive new PMs.
Apologies if I misunderstood your PM, but I replied to no effect, hence my assumption that your inbox is full.
Hope all that helps. Apologies again to one and all.
"Bugler, sound the Carry-On!

Fantome
22nd Jun 2016, 15:31
Danny

The vast topic of signals . . one of which I know SFA. . . . is riddled with anecdotes. The speed at which a signaller could work his lamp or make his morse key dance stuns the imagination. How warships could semaphore crucial messages in the heat of battle with the speed of summer lightning !
Those wartime B & W J Arthur Rank movies with battleships moving into position as the signallers winked to each other at speed.!

About ten years ago an Australian TV channel organised a speed test between a Second World War RAAF vet sigs man and a sixteen year old who was incredibly fast on the keyboard. Each had the same two hundred word simple message to send for the exercise. The old hand on the morse key finished ten seconds in front of the youngster .

There were stories current once of POWs locked in cells with a common masonry wall. By tapping on the wall with a boot heel or anything else to hand for the purpose . .. if the two prisoners were skilled morse men they could communicate.

It was also said that if you had the touch and the ear you could get the 'accent' of the man transmitting and hence twig to his identity.

Fantome
22nd Jun 2016, 16:02
Danny yours back at #2331 -

They issued each of us with a little, amusing booklet of helpful tips and advice
for our flying training (oh, why didn't I hang on to mine - and also to the wonderfully funny "Tee Emms" - RAF training magazines - we had during the War?) * Many an octo/nonagenarian would love to read once more of the misdeeds of Pilot Officer Prune, navigator Flying Officer Fix, signaller Sgt Backtune, disreputable dog "Binder", Air Commodore Byplane-Ffixpitch and all the rest of that glorious crew - surely stationed at Much-Binding-in-the-Marsh or somewhere very like it.


There was a booklet of clever cartoons issued to Mossie pilots during the war. It probably ran to several printings or editions in England Canada and Australia. I was shown a copy a long time ago by the late Merv Waghorn who came out from Hatfield to Bankstown in Sydney to de Havillands to assist with the Australian production of the Mossie.
The idea was to try to instil some of the key advices towards ensuing not too many losses in training. There were some thirty sketches by a well known cartoonist. Certainly not Chris Wren whom no one could ever forget who was half familiar with his work. (I met him one memorable day. He sat in the front R/H pilot's seat from Alice Springs to Victoria River Downs in a Beechcraft Queenair of Connair . . formerly Connellan Airways .. . . and if you want to see Eddie Connellan in a movie watch the last ten minutes of A TOWN LIKE ALICE where Eddie in a Rapide meets the TAA DC-3. carrying the Peter Finch character. If only I had kept notes . Chris chatted on for a good two hours running forward and back over a wide field of endeavour. His stories were as brilliant as his illustrative work.)

So this booklet was illustrated by an artist with a pen name like WEG or WEP
There's a Mossie in flight coming head on with both props stopped . .the caption - NEVER FEATHER BOTH TOGETHER

(unless your name is Bob Hoover)

Fareastdriver
22nd Jun 2016, 16:07
if you had the ear you could get the 'accent' of the man transmitting and hence twig to his identity

In a past life I was a signaller in the Rhodesian Army and Fantome is right. Accomplished morse signallers could be recognised by their 'hand' and if you worked with one, say, at Battalion level his rhythm would be such that you could write down words without assessing each letter.

I had difficulty in reading Pundits because they were too slow, the same with Consol and NDB.

Fantome
22nd Jun 2016, 17:09
In Lesley Hazleton's THE FIRST MUSLIM she ponders the task and the dilemmas of the serious biographer; in the context of Muhammad's life.

Danny might modestly refute this out of hand but what he has done in terms of writing pieces of his life into this forum accords closely with what Lesley Hazleton means when she refers to the essential task of the biographer -

"To answer such questions requires exerting the biographer’s privilege and real purpose, which is not merely to follow what happened but to uncover the meaning and relevance within the welter of events."

And incidentally, should this reference to the life of Muhammad excite anyone's interest, it is a brilliant book. "How did the man hounded out of Mecca turn exile into a new and victorious beginning, to be welcomed back just eight years later as a national hero? How did he succeed against such odds? To answer such questions requires exerting the biographer’s privilege and real purpose, which is not merely to follow what happened but to uncover the meaning and relevance within the welter of events. It means weaving together the complex elements of Muhammad’s life, creating a three-dimensional portrait not so much at odds with the “authorised” version as expanding it."

Fantome
22nd Jun 2016, 18:21
Danny Two more grist for the mill . .. . seeing you do use the goad now and then.

. . . . . while I'm looking way back and finding much of the nostalgia I was once told was all I had to look forward to .. . This one was from 1965-66 during days of wine and roses in WA with Caratti Bulldozing. Ah . . the Ironclad Hotel at Marble Bar .. . seems like yesterday. Or Freddie Ashleford seriously hung over (as I later found out) at 6 am bringing his MMA DC-3 down the main street of Hedland. I saw him. I leaped out of bed the moment I heard his approach. I swear as I leaned over the rail he was level with the upstairs verandah of the Esplanade Hotel. He was flying from my right to left . His side window was open and I also swear as he went by he turned his face left momentarily and gave a huge wink.

There was another MMA skipper called Mike Gent. The story goes Mike was taxying Fitzroy Crossing where he had overnighted.
He called Broome to pass his details. He also was a little worse for wear as he could not remember the call sign. He knew it was MIKE MIKE something as that was how the airline's fleet were all registered. So Mike Gent says in a ponderous way -

AH BROOME THIS IS MIKE MIKE . . .. . MIKE MIKE . .
AH BUGGER IT MIKE MIKE GENT

They knew the call sign they knew their man all along of course.

Danny42C
22nd Jun 2016, 18:52
Fantome,
...to be welcomed back just eight years later as a national hero?...
There was another man in more recent times, a failed politician of 58, widely distrusted as he had "crossed the floor of the House of Commons twice" (changed political allegiance twice), and derided as a "warmonger" because he had repeatedly warned of the growing Nazi threat. His political career was finished, it seemed.

Eight years later he would take over the reins of power - and (by the sheer power of his oratory) save this country from its greatest danger in a thousand years.

Winston Churchill.

Danny.

Danny42C
22nd Jun 2016, 19:18
Fantome,
..... . seeing you do use the goad now and then...
Well, like all large enterprises (and "Pilot's Brevet" is pretty big now), a prod from time to time does a power of good.

Nothing surprises me from the heartlands of our "Wild Colonial Boys !"

Danny.

PS:
...There were stories current once of POWs locked in cells with a common masonry wall. By tapping on the wall with a boot heel or anything else to hand for the purpose . .. if the two prisoners were skilled morse men they could communicate...
Before I went into the RAF, an office colleague who'd been in Signals speeded-up my Morse with a school ruler balanced over a pencil. Made an excellent double-acting Morse key.

D.

Warmtoast
22nd Jun 2016, 20:40
Fantome

Colleagues in the tower were relatively polite to each other, more likely he was flashing:


.--. .. ... ... --- ..-. ..-.

Fantome
22nd Jun 2016, 21:04
Danny

well all we have to do is keep stirring the pot and if Oliver asks for more
dish up the best we can a lad will not put on any condition on thin gruel .

While thinking of the DC-3 hey days of MacRobertson Miller Airways
(whose co-founder Horrie Miller, a veteran of the RFC and assistant from before the first war to Harry Hawker and Tommy Sopwith, told a marvellous story of a full life in EARLY BIRDS.) I was reminded of a few trivial little incidents relating to the Daks. The late Les Jaycock was one of those skippers who came over from 'the East' to take up an instant command. Such imports as Les usually encountered a sense of being an alien so askance did your average sand-groper regard Eastern Staters . One blazing hot day at the airstrip at Marble Bar I was killing time waiting for my boss to turn up, sitting in the shade on the main wheel of our Cessna 182, when the Perth flight came into the circuit. MMAs aircraft were always polished to a high natural finish. . no point in adding to your empty weight with a hundred pounds of paint.

The sun flashing off the gleaming Doug was a sight to behold. After landing taxying in and disgorging a few passengers the pilots came off. The skipper was in no hurry as he strolled over for a yarn. That was my first encounter in the flesh with Les. I say in the flesh because four years prior to that when he was flying Bristol Frighteners on freight runs to Tasmania he had happened to overhear me asking any aircraft for an actual on the NSW south coast.
So brief as that exchange was it was memorable in that the skipper of the Bristol was so affable and so helpful. I found out his name later and stored that bit of info away in my once reasonable memory bank. So that warm morning at Marble Bar it was almost like encountering an old friend.

The airline also operated the Fokker Friendship. A senior pilot was Jack Murray. One day I was going with MMA Kalgourlie- Albany-Perth. I wandered over before boarding to say good-day to the F27 skipper (Jack Murray) of that flight and hint that if he offered the jump seat I'd well jump at that. And so it transpired.
He told me a story once airborne of an F/O who went light on deodorants in the pits. He was balling the young man out in a raised voice to the extent that the hostie came up and asked Jack what was the trouble. "I'm telling this stinking young animal I'm cooped up with here to stop waving his hands over my head when he reaches up to the overhead panel .. Can you spray him with a bit if your eau de cologne?" (or words to that effect).

The place I had rented when living in Perth was close to the threshold of the main runway. It was not uncommon to hear the first flight in of a morning from MMA's northern services. So just after daybreak on a dead still morning you could be lying in bed listening . You'd hear the distinct sound of the mains touching down. You could then count to five and within a second of that count hear the tiny squeak of the tailwheel. (It was around that time I heard someone in the airport bar say "Before I die . . I want to fly . . . a Douglas Dee Cee Three." My turn did come later back East with two outfits based in Sydney . . the CSIRO cloud-physics research aircraft VH-RRA. . . and then Rebel Air's VH-MIN '.)

As a final aside Donald Campbell came in one day to Perth in a rented Aero Commander. He was after the world water speed record on Lake Dumbleyung. I was working at the time for the firm that had the avgas agency on Perth Airport so it was a treat and an honour to fuel his plane. Just before he was ready to start engines I'd asked him if I could take a picture. It is of him smiling through the little side window with his stuffed toy mascot propped up in front of him on the dash. I must look for it and post it here.

Danny42C
23rd Jun 2016, 12:04
Fantome (your #8780),
...So this booklet was illustrated by an artist with a pen name like WEG or WEP
There's a Mossie in flight coming head on with both props stopped . .the caption - NEVER FEATHER BOTH TOGETHER...
I suppose it must be a QFI's worst nightmare (never having been one): in a twin he pulls No.1 back just after takeoff, Bloggs in a panic, feathers No.2 :eek::eek:

Happened many times during the war, and in training since; so they were taught: "Dead leg- Dead engine" (for the benefit of our backseat friends and others, this can never fail, as in the case above the aircraft would yaw savagely to the left, Bloggs instinctively boots right rudder hard on to hold it straight, this leaves his left leg unemployed - ie "Dead": He must feather the left [No.1) engine [and a lot more besides later], but that is life or death in those first few vital seconds).

There are exceptional to the "NEVER TOGETHER" rule. An "Anson" had its u/c well and truly stuck up; pilot would have to land it like that (actually, Anson wheels protrude down slightly when in "up" position - same with DC-3 "Dakotas" - to avoid belly-landing damage as far as possible).

He set up final approach a bit high for a glide landing, shut down both, then cranked the (2-blade) props horizontal with the starter motors. Touched down on runway, no damage at all, they jacked it up, freed the u/c, bird was good as new !...............Smart Lad !:D

Can't happen today ? Don't you believe it ! Sad case that comes to mind is the Kegwoth disaster in 1989. Now it ill becomes me (or any other pilot) to criticise one of our fellows (for have we all (at times) not thought: "There but for the grace of God..." ? But in this case their actions do seem inexplicable. Reliant on my memory of the reports at the time (although Wiki has a full description), the sequence of events was something like this:

At cruising Flight Level en route to Belfast in a BMI B-737, they felt engine vibration. There were vibration meters on the panel, indicating that the left engine was at fault. But the meters were distrusted (later there was a suggestion that the wirings had been crossed, there had been prior instances of this very thing); rightly or wrongly (and, as it proved, wrongly), they concluded that the right engine was to blame, and shut it down.

But passengers on the left of the cabin had seen flames coming from the left engine. Alarmed, they had called the FAs to see. They saw - but did not tell the pilots (believe that, if you can).

Meanwhile the crew had called an emergency, requesting immediate diversion and landing. By a happy coincidence, they were abeam East Midlands airport (the Company base). Of course, the left engine would have been pulled back to idle for the descent, so seemed normal. At the final stage of their approach to the airfield, they had to open it up; it failed; desperately they tried to restart the right engine - but ran out of time ! Wiki has a pic showing how close they got - and has the casualty list.

They were at 30,000+ ft, for pity's sake. They had all the time in the world. Why not leave the airway, throttle both back, vibration would stop, then open each in turn and see what happened ? But it's easy to be wise after the event, isn't it ?

Danny.

Stanwell
23rd Jun 2016, 13:21
Fantome's mention of Chris Wren brought back some memories.
I was a great fan of his "Wrenderings" and particular favourites of mine were his "Oddentifications".

I wonder if any of our contributors have, and are able to post, some examples of his work.
They'd be much appreciated by all, I'm sure.

Fantome
23rd Jun 2016, 13:35
Danny - - - they were taught: "Dead leg- Dead engine" - - - - another way to do it and get it right every time is FEATHER THE FREE FOOT . One of the drills in place went -

PRESSURE LEFT - FAILURE RIGHT
CONFIRM (place hand on feather button till confirmation)
FEATHER RIGHT

CALL FOR SECONDARY ACTIONS

Fantome
23rd Jun 2016, 13:51
There are five of Chris's here. To open the file
put the usual http:// in your browser . . . .then follow that with -

thetartanterror6.********.com.au/2013/10/chris-wren-aviation-caricatures.html

were there are eight asterisks replace with the letters of this word without and dashes or gaps

b - l - o - g - s - p - o - t

(it is a word that is somehow blocked when you put it in precisely. And we all like to see and feel it put in precisely. at least there's no code encrypting big brother enforcing itself when it encounters the odd blokey aside)


Click in the image of the Wren caricature for an enlarged version. Then get hold of your magnifying glass.

Fareastdriver
23rd Jun 2016, 14:27
Feather the engine that the nose is pointing at.

MPN11
23rd Jun 2016, 14:47
But when both engines point forwards???


I jest, I know what you mean.

Fantome
23rd Jun 2016, 19:00
SEEING AS HOW . .. . .there is pretty wide-ranging discourse on here and that I did not think it worth starting or going to a Gallipoli thread to tell a little story here goes.

Wife is off today to visit the Dardanelles for a couple of days.
I emailed her to wish safe passage etc and repeated this story that I think she has heard before. But I doubt any habitués of this thread have and hence think it might be worth the telling.

When Australia's deputy PM Tim Fischer was there in 1990 for the 75 th memorials he stripped off on the beach early one morning and plunged into the water swimming out a fair way. Geoff Pryor, cartoonist for the Canberra Times, was on the beach too that morning with a couple of Canberra reporters . . .. . one of whom (Cranston) had a fair larrikin streak . Tim turned to swim back and as he reached the shallows stood up calling to his audience as he strode through the water " this is too easy. . . imagine having 150 pounds of kit on your back plus your rifle" . Cranston who had picked up two handfuls of small rocks passed some to Geoff saying "c'mon mate give the old bugger a bit of a barrage .. . . if he wants to pretend he knows what it was like in 1915."

(Tim Fischer was Deputy PM from '96 to '99 . . . think he might have been Minister of Trade in 1990)

Chugalug2
25th Jun 2016, 09:22
Apologies to all for an intrusion of a purely administrative nature. Hopefully I can keep it brief!

Danny, you sent me a PM saying that you are missing messages from your inbox that you haven't deleted. If I have this right then the only explanation that I can think of is that your PMs (sent, received, saved) have topped out at 150 (the max allowed). The total should show when you go to inbox.

If that is the case I suggest that you open a new file in My Docs called "PPRuNe PMs" or some such (Right click to create a new file).

Then go to your inbox where there is a section called "Older Messages" with a total (let's say 100) and a tick box next to it.

If you tick that box and then scroll to the bottom of the page you will find a menu for "Selected Messages".

I suggest "Download as text", then "Go", and the 100 messages will produce a text document of them all which you can select under "file" as "Save As".

Put a number like 001 at the end of the title you give it, and navigate the box above to My Docs, PPRuNe PMs (etc), and click Save.

Your older messages are now stored in that folder and can then be deleted en-bloc from your PMs with the same drop down menu at the bottom of the page but this time selecting Delete, thus reducing your content to 50 in our example. You should then receive new PMs.

Apologies if I misunderstood your PM, but I replied to no effect, hence my assumption that your inbox is full.

Hope all that helps. Apologies again to one and all.

"Bugler, sound the Carry-On!"

India Four Two
25th Jun 2016, 11:37
Fantome,

Great Chris Wren cartoons. Here's a TinyURL link:

Miscellaneous Memorabilia: Chris Wren - Aviation Caricatures (http://tinyurl.com/hd9up6f)

Danny42C
25th Jun 2016, 14:24
Chugalug

Please check my edited #8778 (back a bit !)

Danny.

Chugalug2
25th Jun 2016, 15:19
OK Danny, have just read that rather expanded post and my initial thought is that it is Deja Vu all over again! I seem to remember the exchanges about the instrument panel in question, leading to the conclusion that it was, in effect, a complete fake. Somehow a lot of those exchanges have become regurgitated as very recent ones (looking at the date/time groups), together with earlier problems of PM capacity. Why that should be so I have no idea. As you say, "There be gremlins in these parts".

As to the most recent candidate, I'm sure that your diagnosis is correct (it usually is! ;-). Whatever aircraft the panel is in, its layout is most probably updated for modern requirements.

I once had the privilege of sitting briefly in the LHS, behind the ship's wheel (for that is what it most closely resembled!), of the then recently restored to flying condition Lufthansa JU52/3M. I doubt if a third of the instruments were original, but the layout served modern regulatory requirements. Interestingly none of them were fuel gauges, as the original float sticks still served that purpose. Thus the outside was 100% authenticate, with the interior adapted to modern requirements. I imagine that the same effects are found on many vintage aircraft still flying.

http://goodmeetings.com/2016/03/junkers-ju-52d-aqui-only-ju/

Danny42C
25th Jun 2016, 17:05
Chugalug,

Thanks for the steer to the link to "Tante Ju", as it was affectionately known to the many thousands of German troops, to whom it was as familiar as the "Dak" was to us. But what caught my eye was this:
...The makers of this film also managed to capture a former test pilot, now at the grand age of 103. "This makes my day" is how the 103-year-old Berliner puts sitting in the cockpit while, as ever, not being able to leave the controls alone...
So there's hope for us yet ! And the size of the control wheels reminds us of the physical strengh needed to fly things like that (no power assistance) in those days.

Danny.

Walter603
26th Jun 2016, 07:19
Well here we are blokes, back in the Old Dart after a few weeks in cold, wet Blighty. With my No. 2 grandson Joel as my carer, we stayed in London, Norfolk and Yorkshire. At Kirk Ella near Hull, my young step-brother Clive (only 78) provided food and drink galore and introduced us to many of his friends, warm-hearted lovely people who also wined and dined us. We visited York and Beverley Minsters, went to the seaside at Filey one overwhelmingly cold day in “flaming June” where it was 12C and it felt like 8C. When I messaged my daughter at home in Australia she said it was also 12c.

Canary Wharf on West India dock was also a place to admire. Built in 1802 to store rum, tobacco and sugar under the eagle eyes of Customs officers, some of it has been turned into flats or apartments for residents or for visitors. Lovely restaurants line the front for the delight of tourists, and a new (to me) Docklands Light Railway runs nearby as a supplement to the London Underground.

Norfolk was also a delight, and we stayed for 3 nights at a 15th century farmhouse that was full of charm. Two more nights in the same area close to Cromer to see lifelong old friends and we were off to York. What a wonderful old City!

I thank my son John for his back-up whilst I was away, and I’m about to plunge into another excerpt from my WW2 story.

Walter603
26th Jun 2016, 08:10
All through the night I kept starting up from a fitful doze, looking for signal flares. I felt sure we would be rescued by some magical allied submarine which would pop up nearby. This had actually happened to one of our mates only three weeks before, in similar circumstances, to an Aussie naned Hopkins and his Navigator. Although I thought I saw coloured flares several times in the distance, the miracle didn't happen for us. Daybreak was a relief from the very cold night.

Heartened by the light, and by some of our emergency rations, (mainly Horlicks tablets and chewing gum) we started to paddle eastward, in the direction of Turkey (it was only 60 miles away - a mere bagatelle). We kept up the paddling for a long time, and were doing quite well, I seem to remember, when, at about 0900 hours on 11th November, a most appropriate day, two Arados hove into view. Our Air-Sea Rescue Service. These blokes did something else other than act as fighter escort to supply ships. I felt distinctly disappointed that we were about to be saved, after all. I had begun to place high hopes on surrendering to a neutral country, and tasting some Turkish delights.

Both kites landed, and taxied slowly to our dinghy. The observer of one climbed out on to the float, and threw us a rope. "How long you shvim?" he called. "Since yesterday", I replied. "Since yesterday, hah!" he said, (as if he didn't know!) "For you, ze Var iss over". I have since learned that Jerry said this to almost every captured airman I have ever heard about. I was astounded to find that it was certainly said to all the captured aircrew in the book of collective stories put out by the RAAF aircrew of Lamsdorf POW camp (Stalag VIIIB/344).

It was a bit of a relief, after all, to sit in a dry aircraft, and be flown, courtesy of the Luftwaffe, to the western end of Crete. I didn't like the smell - all German aircraft had a typical smell that was quite unlike the exciting, familiar smell of Allied aircraft.

Stiff and sore from our overnight experience in the Aegean Sea, we were each given a blanket to wrap around ourselves, taken to a small building under guard, and fed a plateful of pasta each, with a mug of water to wash it down. After a few hours of fitful sleep, we were flown off the next morning at 0300 hours to Greece, in a Junkers JU52, the big troop transport aircraft that we had been hunting.

Now I knew the reason we were usually unable to find the troop carriers in these waters. We often did sweeps, hoping to pick up a JU52 or two (this happened earlier, when they were flying to and from Corfu, and we had several successes in this area).

We flew first to Athens, to offload some of the military passengers who were also travelling on the aeroplane. Bob Pritchard and I were closely guarded the whole time by two escorting soldiers, and we were accommodated in a large drill hall, filled with other German soldiers, where we stayed for two nights, sleeping on a couple of blankets on the floor. One of the soldiers who tried to converse with us made it fairly plain that many Germans did not approve of Hitler, who he hastened to tell us was not really German at all, but Austrian! Our first inkling that the great Leader was not the cat's whiskers with all of his people.

On the third day we were again loaded into a JU52, and taken to Salonika. I spent 10 days in a cooler there, being interrogated and pining for the Squadron.

Our prison was a suburban house, single storey, and it must have held about six prisoners. We could not see each other, being locked up in separate rooms, with guards in a section at the front of the house. I caught occasional glimpses of the other prisoners, but the only one I saw regularly was my observer, Bob, as we were taken out once daily to walk around the barbed wire compound which had been the front of the property. We were separated by at least 50 yards, to stop us communicating, and each of us was watched by an armed guard. However, by sign language and native cunning we were able to distract the attention of our guards in order to retrieve cigarettes that had been hidden behind clumps of grass or small bushes by friendly locals, who stood some way off and also made suitable signs to point out where they had hidden the little treasures.

Union Jack
26th Jun 2016, 10:18
Welcome back Walter! Delighted that you have had such a good visit and that you have eventually put us out of our suspense - it seems like you have been in the drink for a very long time....:ok:

Jack

Danny42C
26th Jun 2016, 11:30
Walter,

You're as welcome back as the showers in Spring ! (and summer and autumn and winter here).

Another slice of your saga for us to enjoy (although it cannot have been fun for you at the time). We've all been holding our breath to see how you escaped a watery grave (although we knew you must have done) and look forward to more, much more !

One tiny cavil, surely the stock phrase was: "For you,Tommy ze war ees over" ?

Must have been glad to get home. Yes, York's a lovely old place isn't it ? Yorkshire is God's own county (or so they say around here). Not sold on the idea myself (although I married a Yorkshire lass). Red rose of Lancashire for me ! (Liverpool Irishman, actually).

Danny.

Fareastdriver
26th Jun 2016, 17:59
Having flown a hot formation with a JU 52 I can confirm with a conversation with the pilot that it was a heavy old bird to push around.

Chugalug mentioned the JU53/3M. The 3M was not the bodge tape it was held together with but the designation for three motors as the first ones were built with just one engine. The Fokker DVII/3M that Kingsford Smith flew across the Pacific was of a similar description, the aircraft being available with two (DVII/2M) or three engines.

Danny42C
26th Jun 2016, 18:23
Now Hear This ! Have a look at:
...PPRuNe Forums > PPRuNe Social > Jet Blast>If you had to be in WWII, which bit would you choose?>Page 4>#80>(Sallyann1234>Quote: UK based Chain Home radar mechanic You might find this site interesting...Ventnor Radar: Home Page & Index. RAF Domestic & technical sites)..

MPN11 would be interested, I'm sure, for it reflects the Fighter Control part of Area Radar. I found it fascinating; for it fully explains the technical background of the work of the 3608 (Auxiliary) Fighter Control Unit (of which I was purely the "admin" Adjutant).

And it is beautifully written; The term: "The Hole" was in general use, and not just for our particular "Hole" (RAF Seaton Snook). Our CH Towers rose 360 ft above the N.York Moors at Danby Beacon. The little bungalow on top was the same. Did not know that the SPs in it took the F1250s off the privileged few, and exchanged them for brass tokens (same idea and same reason as the mines).

As I've related before, the SPs would have turned me away without brass tag, for I (or the Station Commander for that matter) didn't have a Special Security Clearance (on a Need to Know basis).

Looking forward to the rest of the "series",

Danny.

MPN11
26th Jun 2016, 19:06
I hope Danny42C is watching Channel 4 now ... filmic memories of The War in Burma.

Chugalug2
26th Jun 2016, 19:19
A forgotten film of a forgotten army...very appropriate.

Danny42C
26th Jun 2016, 21:31
MPN11, Yes he was !.....Chugalug, What a remarkable find ! Of course, most of the shots were in back areas, as is only to be expected (never saw a trace of this Film Unit in the whole of my time in Burma, and never even knew it existed). No mention of the RAF, but caught a glimpse of a F/O at one point. And NigG will have seen the "Chinthe" badge , the emblem of the 'Chindits' with which his father, Wg Cdr Arthur Gill of 84 Sqn, closely cooperated.

But it was good to see the maps. Perhaps some people now know for the first time where the Arakan was (and Kohima and Imphal in Assam). There, with a roof over our heads, a bed to sleep on, and grub to eat, we had it good, and pitied the PBI, who squelched about in the monsoon mud as seen.

Strange, but they missed two worthwhile points. I would have thought they would at least have quoted the well known Kohima Epitath. And, of course, the 'Forgotten Army' derives from General Bill Slim's address to his troops:
... "You men call yourselves the Forgotten Army. You've not been forgotten. It's just that no one's ever heard of you !"...

But then, you can't expect a BBC producer to know things like that, can you ?

Danny.

MPN11
27th Jun 2016, 09:51
Morning, Danny42C ... glad you saw the programme, even if it was 'Pongo-orientated' ;)

And thanks for the link at #8805 ... I have just finished reading that. Very informative. My only encounter with that subterranean world, and the T80 radar, was at RAF Sopley on the Area Radar course in 1970 ... a very Cold War underground environment, and a marked transition for those used to sitting in Local gazing out at an airfield. The sensation of passing the Police post in the 'bungalow' entrance, and then descending those long sloping corridors, with huge blast doors and 90º bends, was really quite spooky and a clear reminder of the nuclear risks we faced in those days.

Much of RAF Sopley still seems to be standing, in all its Seco-hutted glory, according to Google Earth. However, the only remaining evidence of the Ops site [3/4 miles to the West] is the 'bungalow' entrance to the underground installation and a stub or two of roadway where the car park used to be.

As an aside, I was led to believe that the turning gear bearings on the T80 were actually based on wartime cruiser gun turrets ... which of course were never intended to rotate continuously at 4 rpm. Apparently they leaked lubricating oil permanently!

Danny42C
27th Jun 2016, 11:05
Someone well-known to us on "Military Aviation" this morning led me on a trail to a link which gave me a You Tube vocal rendering of this heartrending ballad. (My apologies to him for not noting his name or what Thread). So I appeal to him, if he reads this, please make himself known to us again, so that I can thank him for a good chortle, and please put in the link again, as I heartily recommend clicking on to it.

Don't know how many crimes I've committed, lifting this from You Tube without permission, but will throw myself on mercy of the court and hope for the best. (And I do still have my dollar-silver wings of an old Army Air Corps Pilot which should entitle me to some clemency !)

Here we go:

Danny42C

*************

Oscar Brand - "Save a fighter pilot's ass" Published on Sep 22, 2013

"Oh, Halleliua, Halleliua
Throw a nickel on the grass--Save a fighter pilot's ass.
Oh, Halleliua, Oh, Halleliua
Throw a nickel on the grass and you'll be saved.

I was cruising down the Yalu, doing six and twenty per
When a call came from the Major, Oh won 't you save me sir?
Got three flak holes in my wing tips, and my tanks ain't got no gas.
Mayday, mayday, mayday, I got six MIGS on my ass.

I shot my traffic pattern, and to me it looked all right,
The airspeed read one-thirty, I really racked it tight!
Then the airframe gave a shudder, the engine gave a wheeze,
Mayday, mayday, mayday, spin instructions please.

It was split S on my Bomb run, and I got too God Damn low
But I pressed that bloody button, and I let those babies go
Sucked the stick back fast as blazes, when I hit a hight speed stall
I won't see my mother when the work all done next fall.

They sent me down to Pyongyang, the brief said "no ack ack"
by the time that I arrived there, my wings was mostly flak.
Then my engine coughed and sputtered, it was too cut up to fly
Mayday, mayday, mayday, I'm too young to die.

I bailed out from the Sabre, and the landing came out fine
With my E and E equipment, I made for our front line.
When I opened up ration, to see what was in it,
The God damn quartermaster why he filled the tin with grit.


***********

EDIT:

Found it! (Fareastdriver, of course !)

Jet Blast>If you had to be in WWII, which bit would you choose?>Page 5>#86

D.

FantomZorbin
27th Jun 2016, 11:32
MPN11
FZjr reports that RAF Sopley has now been levelled totally and a housing estate is being erected. The Ops site is now one of those sites that have copious chain-link fencing, padlocks and no names!

topgas
27th Jun 2016, 12:32
There was a booklet of clever cartoons issued to Mossie pilots during the war.
Was this "Mosquito Mutterings, with sketches by Koz"? It's listed as being printed in 1944, possibly reprinted in the 1990's

http://www.mossie.org/images/book_covers/mosquito_mutterings.jpg

Danny42C
27th Jun 2016, 12:41
MPN11,

And the Type 13 "Height Finders" ! Remember they had one at RAF Fazackerley (Liverpool) when the "Volunteer Reserve" restarted after WWII, and I rejoined as a Flying Officer.

On the other side of the nearby wire fence, a knot of spectators would gather from time to time to gawp at the "Nodding Donkey". We would give the operator a buzz, he would swing it round pointing at them, then nod up and down menacingly. Cleared the crowd in moments !

How we laughed!...... Danny.

MPN11
27th Jun 2016, 13:20
FantomZorbin... thanks for your #8811. I did notice, driving by in Street View, there was a large "Land Acquired by .." board by the old Guardroom. Oh well, that's an inevitable fate for a large collection of Seco Huts, and another bit of my past disappeared under a bulldozer blade [along with Strubby, Eastern Radar, Locking, Bracknell, Bentley Priory [well, parts of it], Uxbridge, West Drayton].

Danny42C ... I don't think we got to use data from the Nodding height finders on the Course, but obviously the Southern Radar people on the main Ops Floor did. We did our training in Cabins on the upper level, overlooking their 'reality', with a mix of real radar data and simulator input returns, IIRC. Of course, the T82 at Watton et al didn't need supplementary devices, with it's in-built stacked beam array providing height information [although we were limited to 5000 ft vertical separation when using height-finder data].

Fareastdriver
27th Jun 2016, 13:23
We had a 'nodding horror at our helicopter base in the nineties at Shenzhen. It was probably a Chinese copy of a Russian copy of a American radar. It had an enormous valve somewhere in the cabinets which would take ages to warm up and we would watch a miniature lightening bolt working its way across a small dial until it crossed and then it was working.

The operator would swing it around until it was pointing along out departure track and the nodding bit would paint pictures of all the cus and cunimbs defining the base and the tops.

At the turn of the century is was scrapped and we just had Hong Kong weather on the internet which gave us a full radar picture of cloud for a sixty miles radius of Chep Lap Kok.

Danny42C
27th Jun 2016, 13:47
MPN11 to Fantom Zorbin,
...I did notice, driving by in Street View, there was a large "Land Acquired by .." board by the old Guardroom...
What would they do with the Hole ?

Danny.

Chugalug2
27th Jun 2016, 14:12
Walter 603, good to see you posting again, albeit as a POW. Talking of which, the kindness of strangers, be they Greeks bearing gifts or simply disaffected members of the Wehrmacht, reminds us all of the importance of common humanity as against that of various "isms".

A lesson perhaps that we in good old Blighty need to bear in mind in the next two years or so....

Danny42C
27th Jun 2016, 17:11
Stanwell (your wish is my command !),

The Griffon engine had the power to rotate a Spit round its own prop at low airspeed. On take-off, you fed the power in very slowly. With wheels on the ground it did its best by not merely swinging right (if you let it), but by a most peculiar "right close march" motion. It literally "hopped" to the right across the runway while the nose remained pointing straight down it.

How you managed on a formation take-off I don't know. If you slapped the power on in the air, it would perform a sort of three-dimensional version of a knight's move in chess (leapt 50ft up and 50ft out to the side at the same time).

Of course, all this is on the basis of less than 20 hrs on the things. Our more experienced
colleagues took all this in their stride and were quite happy with them.

Still prefer the Merlins, though.

Danny.

MPN11
27th Jun 2016, 18:59
Danny42C ... "What would they do with the Hole?"

I have a vague* recollection that one was/is being used as a secure computer data storage facility. Don't ask me what that means in technical terms, but it would certainly be physically secure.



* most of my recollections are vague, of course.

Danny42C
27th Jun 2016, 19:22
MPN11,

I was worrying about how the "bearing strength" of the former open land around the former "hole" would be affected by wholesale building on top. There have been cases up here in the past where alarming chasms have suddenly opened over long closed mine workings below. The data and its keeepers stored in a former 'hole' might be secure - for all eternity !

Retrieving it might be a problem though !

Danny.

MPN11
27th Jun 2016, 19:42
I think the R1/R3 bunkers, with concrete walls several feet thick, aren't going to collapse and create 'sink holes' any time soon. :)

FantomZorbin
28th Jun 2016, 07:48
The Ops site at Sopley is some way from the camp and, at present, has no building activity on it.


By the way, did you ever hear about the incident re: the tramp down the 'hole'?

Danny42C
28th Jun 2016, 08:12
FantomZorbin,
...By the way, did you ever hear about the incident re: the tramp down the 'hole'?...
No. Do tell, please !

D.

MPN11
28th Jun 2016, 08:43
FZ Given what's underneath the Ops Site entrance, I would be surprised if much building work would be possible. The 'retained' bit is only just big enough for one solitary house anyway.

Anyway, you do the Tramp tale, and I'll follow with the scandal that had preceded my arrival there.

FantomZorbin
28th Jun 2016, 13:48
Well,apparently it was like this …


As has already been mentioned, the ‘bungalow’ was a RAFP manned security post where we all had to receive a security tag in exchange for our ID cards, only then were we permitted through the turnstile and proceed to the nether regions.


One quiet night the duty supervisor was disturbed from his duties by the airman doing the security rounds to be told that he, the airman, had found a tramp curled up asleep in the generator room and what should he do about it!


It transpired that the said tramp had been in the habit of seeking warmth and shelter in this, little visited, hide away whenever his travels brought him to the area.
The Gentleman of the Road was unceremoniously escorted to the great outdoors and warned, in no uncertain terms, to never do it again.


I don’t know what the result of the ensuing fallout was …any ideas MPN11?

Danny42C
28th Jun 2016, 14:03
I've found all sorts of things in Towers in my time - but never a tramp ! - FZ, I would think the Corporal Plod on duty would have some awkward questions to answer next morning !

Danny.

MPN11
28th Jun 2016, 14:20
Sorry, FZ, nothing to add on the tramp. Never heard the story either, so may have been after my brief visit in 1970.

And before I went to Sopley, there was of course the infamous episode of the Call-Girl operation ... ;)

Danny42C
28th Jun 2016, 19:39
MPN11, don't leave us all agog like that - Give !!

pzu
28th Jun 2016, 22:45
Spotted this 'book' on a FBook group I occaisionally follow

I have no interest in this item and the asking price appears to be ludicrously high, but the content may interest some on here

Bristol T.C.69 Aircraft Division Class A- Lectures, Notes, Drawings, Diagrams, Etc By M.A Bannister - Used Books - Hardcover - 1941. - from Heldfond Book Gallery, ABAA-ILAB and Biblio.com (http://www.biblio.com/ebooks/bristol-tc69-aircraft-division-class-lectures/d/49429246?aid=vialibri&t=1)

PZU - Out of Africa (Retired)

Walter603
29th Jun 2016, 07:00
I was interrogated twice by an officer who threatened to have me shot if I didn’t disclose information, but I reminded him of my obligation to give him only my name rank and RAF number, and he replied by telling me all about 603 Squadron with names to match. His knowledge surprised me, but I kept my mouth shut. and gave away nothing.

One R.A.F. prisoner in the house managed to whisper hurriedly to me one day, that he had managed to loosen the window fastenings in his room next door, that he was being taken away, and that I should continue to work on the fastenings if I was moved into that room.

Only a couple of hours later I was transferred from the kitchen to the room in question. Fixed timber shuttering was outside the window, that could be opened inwards. The metal window sash had been prised away from its seating by the previous occupant but could be replaced to look as though it was fixed. He had then used the sash through the venetian-style shuttering, to force away the horizontal wooden bar forming a temporary lock on the shutters. A little more work, and the bar would fall away from the shutters which could then be opened.

I waited anxiously for the night. I listened carefully for the sound of the patrolling guard, who walked right around the outside of the house very regularly. I felt very unwell, and guessed I was suffering another bout of malaria, which had happened to me a couple of times since my illness in the Sudan. About midnight I began to work on the shutter, and had got it partly open, when the guard made a very hurried exit from the front of the house and dashed around the back, where my room was. He rushed back to the front and I heard him speaking excitedly to the Corporal in charge. I closed the shutter and window carefully, and was thankful to sink into bed, feeling very shaky.

Nothing happened until two days later, when a senior N.C.O (Feldwebel) came into my room suddenly, walked straight to the window and tested it. By that time I had shut it quite firmly. He muttered something to me in German that I took to mean that he was told the window had been opened, and then left after I played dumb. All very strange, I thought, and I wasn’t very happy about the outcome.

The next day during my exercise period under supervision, I managed to get to the side of the house and was able to look directly across some vacant land behind my prison room. There was another house facing the back of ours, with a large verandah facing towards us. On it, apparently pointing at my window, was a machine gun mounted on a tripod!

After ten days Bob and I were two of six prisoners taken to the local railway station. I then found that as well as we two, there had been two Greek airmen and two Americans in the house. One Yank was incapable of moving, having a broken leg. He was kept on a stretcher throughout our journey to Germany. The other, a Lieutenant pilot,introduced himself to me with a Southern drawl, saying, “Ah come from Chattanooga”. “Well blimey,” I said in my best London accent, “I always thought Chattanooga was a mythical place in a song.”

MPN11
29th Jun 2016, 09:59
OK. Southern Radar, RAF Sopley, mid- to late-60s. The Unit was staffed with a large number of Local Service WRAF, including ATC Assistants. It appears that a telephone call to the Allocator [or was it the Supervisor?] would result in another call to the WRAF Block, from where one of the WRAF would hop into a car and head into Bournemouth for a 'lucrative assignation'.

The fallout apparently included a new CO, several other postings [and I assume disciplinary action] ... and a rumour that only ugly WRAF would be posted there. By the time I attended the Course at the beginning of 1970, normality had been restored.

FantomZorbin
29th Jun 2016, 10:16
When I visited sometime later there was a nasty malicious rumour that some of those involved, including clientele, were in the retirement home up the road!

Chugalug2
29th Jun 2016, 11:11
Walter, it appears that your alertness probably saved your life! If it was thought that you were working to escape via your window, why wasn't it checked for two days? Unless of course they were waiting for you to make that bid and to react accordingly....

No doubt you have since pondered the reliability of the whispered information about the window in the first place and the convenient transfer to the room that followed. Such are the muddied waters of war, when often the only thing to rely on is your own common sense.

Danny42C
29th Jun 2016, 14:30
MPN11 (#8831),

We had a case at Leeming - but ours was "in house". Details are sketchy as it was supposed to have taken place before I arrived in '67.

IIRC, two airwomen had banded together to provide a service to all comers. When this came to light, they were promptly booted out of the WRAF. Nothing daunted, the (now civilian) pair put a caravan on RAF Leeming's Caravan Site and set up a profitable business there. Apparently this ran for some time before we managed to evict them.

There were legitimate enterprises carried on there too, notably by an Ex-Cpl Stapley (MT Fitter). He was very good (and cheap) and had plenty of custom. He looked after, and gave me £50 for my rotted-out old Peugeot when I retired - and flogged it to some Far East studes for £120, so I heard.

"Stappers" was a byword among the AFS student body (and far and wide).

Danny.

Danny42C
29th Jun 2016, 16:14
To ALL OUR CANADIAN FRIENDS.

Better early than late - and better late than never !

I hope I speak for all PPRuNers in wishing you a HAPPY CANADA DAY on Friday !

Those old enough to remember the exciting days 70 years ago will recall that Canada supported Britain, among many other ways, by training thousands of aircrew for the RAF under the Empire Air Training Scheme, and by sending us thousands of their own RCAF young men to stand (and in many cases to die) beside us.

In "my" air war in Burma (it may have been different elsewhere), they were the most numerous of the Dominion contingents (followed by the Australians, then the New Zealanders, and a smattering of South Africans).

Those of us who were trained in Canada (or who had passed through on our way to training in the States), will fondly remember the extent of your marvellous hospitality (and the mountains of wonderful food which amazed us, coming as we were from severely rationed Britain).

Thank you !

Danny42C.

Danny42C
29th Jun 2016, 16:34
Chugalug (#8833),

It does sound fishy, doesn't it. And strange, too. As a general rule, I believe they wanted to keep their aircrew prisoners alive for their potential value as Intelligence sources.

Perhaps they had a sadistic Commandant, Walter, who wanted to amuse himself by setting up a "shot while trying to escape" scenario (which would give a veneer of legality over the murder), Or it was a set-up "pour encourager les autres" !

Danny.

Lyneham Lad
29th Jun 2016, 16:50
"pour encourager les autres" Apparently the phrase du jour in Brussels... :0

And now we return you to the normal programme...

MPN11
29th Jun 2016, 18:17
Danny42C .. the Leeming Not-A-Runway-Caravan tale rings a distant bell here. There are some professions older than ATC/Flying Prevention, of course ;)

Yerp ... The way Tante Angela is acting, I could see a quick Blitzkreig against either Poland or Belgium [both historically popular destinations] to ensure European Unity. Please avoid occupying the Channel Islands next time. :)

... And now we return you to the normal programme as well ...

PingDit
29th Jun 2016, 19:05
Danny42C/MPN11

Strange that you mentioned 'The Hole'! My first posting was to an R3 at RAF Bawdsey (Suffolk) in 1971 working on the height finders and T80!

Warmtoast
30th Jun 2016, 09:08
With all the talk about "holes in the ground" I've today added my illustrated contribution with a new thread on this forum:

"RAF Fighter Command VHF/DF Fixer Net Early 1950's"

WT

MPN11
30th Jun 2016, 09:29
Nice job, WT >>> http://www.pprune.org/military-aviation/580986-raf-fighter-command-vhf-df-fixer-net-early-1950-s.html

Danny42C
30th Jun 2016, 21:15
Can I join MPN11 and recommend Warmtoast's new Thread:

RAF Fighter Command VHF/DF Fixer Net Early 1950's to all who have not clicked onto it yet.

D.

Danny42C
4th Jul 2016, 09:14
Walter (#8829),
...“Well blimey,” I said in my best London accent, “I always thought Chattanooga was a mythical place in a song.”...
Not so ! Coincidentally, the Chattanooga (Tennessee) of "Choo-Choo" fame, was one of the turning points of a training x-country I flew from Gunter Field (Ala) at Basic School.

Danny.

JAVELINBOY
4th Jul 2016, 19:53
Had a very good visit with my sports car club to East Kirkby to see their Lancaster Just Jane fire up and do some taxi runs. Tremendous to watch from close quarters, well done all the staff there. Icing on the cake was meeting Sergeant Len Manning rear gunner from 57 Squadron who operated from there. Had the opportunity to hear of his bailing out on his third op and evasion from capture in France all at the age of 19, Len is 92 now but you would never guess that looking at him. A Google search using his name will bring up more details of his escapade. Nice display in the Hangar about him which includes the MIA telegram his Mother received.

Walter603
6th Jul 2016, 04:38
Chugalug and Danny.
Re sitting ducks, escape plans and Chatanooga. I must say I was highly suspicious of the apparent lack of action by the Huns in failing to repair the loose window in my mini-prison. It seemed obvious that they wanted to see me climbing out of the place! As for you knowing that musically named city Danny, well..... it's amazing how our paths crossed, starting with No. 8 ITW.

Walter.

Walter603
6th Jul 2016, 05:52
We were twelve days in an unheated train, with wooden seats, two guards per prisoner, travelling up through all the lower European countries. What a dreadful journey. Black bread, occasional soup, a little German sausage, little sleep and hopeless conversation. The Grand Tour, indeed! Eventually we arrived at Frankfurt, the infamous interrogation centre known as Dulag Luft. In the streets of the city, where it was already very cold and snowing, I remember my first shock at seeing a large squad of Russian prisoners, mainly women, who were being marched through the streets, clad literally in rags and old bits of blankets, without shoes, but with rags and newspapers wrapped and tied around their feet. These people were treated as slave labour, and I was to learn a lot more about such treatment in the next 15 months.

At the interrogation centre, I was strip-searched and placed in a single narrow cell, containing an iron bed, and given two thin blankets and a hard pillow. My shoes and personal possessions were taken from me. Small meals were given, consisting of dark, rye bread and thin jam for breakfast, with "ersatz' coffee made from roasted acorns; thin vegetable soup and another piece of bread for the midday and evening meal.

I stayed in this cell for four days, relieved only by being allowed to go to the lavatory by summoning the guard when necessary, and by my interrogation. At the latter, I was told by my interrogator that I could be "shot as a spy" if I did not answer all the questions put to me. I insisted that I was required by international law to give only my name, rank and number. As in Greece, it was obvious that much was already known about my squadron, where I had flown from, etc. I gave the minimum information that I thought would satisfy the officer, and was allowed back to my cell.

On one of my visits to the toilet, I managed to whisper a few words to another prisoner there. We were, of course, forbidden to communicate, and each of us had his own sentry overlooking our activities. The other prisoner was George Lloyd, a navigator from a bomber squadron, with whom I became close friends.

After four days at Dulag Luft I was sent to Stalag IVB, at Muhlberg, central Germany, and from here my P.O.W. adventures really began. Incidentally, the rest of my Squadron mates finished their tour of operations, and were back in England in time for Christmas 1943. I often think I was unlucky. I could have been with them. However, I would undoubtedly have gone on to another tour, probably on Mosquitoes for flying operations, over Norway and Europe, and who knows? I might have "bought" it. Instead, it was my dear mother who was the victim. Killed by a V2 rocket on our outer London home, before I arrived back. More about that later.

Chugalug2
6th Jul 2016, 07:58
Walter, your observation that, despite the privations of being a POW, your chances of your survival had you not been captured would probably have been much reduced are surely correct. Life is a gamble anyway, but in war the odds can swing violently either way. Your last sentences are sad confirmation of that.

Unlike WW1 for the UK, WW2 was truly a peoples war, when it could come suddenly and devastatingly to anyone anywhere. The few exceptions in WW1 merely confirm that general observation I would suggest.

ian16th
6th Jul 2016, 11:09
in war the odds can swing violently either way

A former Lancaster pilot of my acquaintance, says he survived WWII because of a car accident that put him in hospital for several months. Most of his peers 'bought it' while he was in hospital.

Danny42C
6th Jul 2016, 12:23
Walter,

Three observations on your #8844/45:
... it's amazing how our paths crossed, starting with No. 8 ITW...
You've probably told me this before, (but I plead "Short Term Memory Loss"!): what dates ? And were you by any chance a resident of the Trebarwith Annexe ?
... the infamous interrogation centre known as Dulag Luft...
The reference here is to the notorious "Doolally Tap": Deolali was a transit camp near Bombay, often troops immured there were said to go bonkers from a mixture of heat, boredom and sunstroke, the word went into general use out there as "going Doolally".
... Incidentally, the rest of my Squadron mates finished their tour of operations, and were back in England in time for Christmas 1943...
Here I am one with Chugalug and ian16th in their following Posts: the war still has 18 months to go, plenty of chances to get KIA. Whereas, if you behaved yourself in captivity, it would really be a case of "for you, Walter, ze war eez over". But I suspect that that may be a large 'if' !

Danny.

Chugalug2
8th Jul 2016, 09:11
Danny, your little aside about Deolali Camp is at the root of all that is wonderful about this thread. The expression of going "Doolally" is familiar to us all. It's explanation was not, I suspect.

If you put that location into Google Maps you are whisked instantly to a part of India NE of Bombay, with pictures of local scenes there as well. The ones showing an aerial view of Barnes School look suspiciously like old Barrack Blocks surrounding a central padang (or whatever the Indian equivalent is). Could that be the place where our troops did indeed go Doolally, Danny?

BBadanov
8th Jul 2016, 09:46
Danny: The reference here is to the notorious "Doolally Tap": Deolali was a transit camp near Bombay, often troops immured there were said to go bonkers from a mixture of heat, boredom and sunstroke, the word went into general use out there as "going Doolally".

Yes familiar with that. We had a wee Scottish fellow on our Bucc squadron who would always say "going Doolally", and had explained "Doolally tap" as going troppo up at the garrison outside of Bombay.

Imagine my surprise years later, when I was in a 'fast black' (actually a cream Ambassador/Oxford) on my way from Bombay to the MiG factory at Nasik when just prior to ETA, there I was at "Doolally". I guess that explains a lot about my subsequent behaviour...

Danny42C
8th Jul 2016, 12:46
Chugalug (#8849),
...Could that be the place where our troops did indeed go Doolally, Danny?...
Forget what we called it (didn't go in for parades much), but could not improve on the late lamented Benny Hill: "Squarebashingerplatz !"


BBadanov (#8850),
... the MiG factory at Nasik...
Wild guess: Ex-RAF Mauripur (or whatever they call it now). But they would have the Mig21 /29 (?) assembly manuals, whereas we had to assemble the first batch of Vengeance as a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. Then we flew 'em !

Couple of years ago I zoomed-in on Google Maps on the new military complex at Cannanore (my final old stamping ground in India 70 years ago). Somewhere or other they'd found a barrel of bright blue paint. Among the odd items standing out like dog's balls painted with this, was a strange dagger-like thing. Concluded: Mig-21 instructional fuselage (??) Why paint it bright blue ? Who can fathom the inscrutable Oriental mind ?

Danny.

Danny42C
8th Jul 2016, 17:52
BBadanvo,

Sorry - wrong place ! ("Senior Moment !")

Of course, Bombay, not Karachi. "Nasik" is "Nashik", Gandinagar Airport, 100 miles by road from Bombay. (Wiki) Does not seem to have a RAF connection.

Danny.

Danny42C
9th Jul 2016, 16:52
Head up, Chaps !

Quiet on this front, but recommend a similar Thead, where "the joint is jumpin'"

Wg Cdr Arthur Gill, OBE, DFC

Danny.

esa-aardvark
9th Jul 2016, 19:12
Hello Danny, somewhere in the photo's I got from my father there is one of
the Chatanooga Choo-Choo. He took it on the way to Nashville. I believe that
he did some Vengeance course there & possibly a Stromberg carburetter
course, perhaps also a Pratt & Whitney course. He mentiond to me how nice
the sets of Pratt & Whitney spanners were (I still have one spanner) and also the problems of setting up
Stromberg carburetters without a flow bench. He spent some time assembling
VV's in India. I have his service records, but back in NZ, I am in Spain now.
Hard to tell from the records where he actually was as they are difficult to
reconcile with my recollection of his anecdotes.
John

Danny42C
9th Jul 2016, 19:58
John,
...my recollection of his anecdotes...
Did he ever mention the apocryphal story of the first batch of Vengeance being assembled "by guess and by God" at Mauripur as the assembly manuals had been lost in transit ?

Danny.

esa-aardvark
9th Jul 2016, 20:59
Danny,
he was certainly at Drigh road. He bemoaned the lack of the flow bench
for carburetter setup which would certainly fit with the lack of manuals.
He did tell me they were assembled and then test flown by an American
test pilot. Did not mention any difficulties with the assembly. Incidentally
he was Halton trained.
John
.

Danny42C
9th Jul 2016, 21:08
John,

The four RAF Squadrons started to get their Vengeances around November 1942. The first assemblies would have been in the few months before. Would this tie in with his records of his time at Drigh Road ?

Danny.

Danny42C
10th Jul 2016, 11:19
John (#8854),
...He mentioned to me how nice the sets of Pratt & Whitney spanners were (I still have one spanner)...
In my garage I treasure the set of Peugeot spanners which came with my dear old 403 (1960). The jaws have convex surfaces (there is probably a technical name for this design, but I don't know it).

The beauty of it is that the load falls on the flat of the nut, not the corners. So it doesn't matter if these have been badly chewed, the grip is still firm (and you can't chew any corners yourself). Works like a charm. Never seen anything like it anywhere since. Except:

Google:
"The Most Used Tool in the Tool Box: Open End Wrenches - Apex Tool ...
www.apexinds.com › Home › Knowledge Base
Specifically I am going to focus on the open end side. ... Peugeot open wrench ... Its revolutionary design of different spaced teeth made slipping off the bolt/n"

Danny.

esa-aardvark
10th Jul 2016, 14:45
Hello Danny, searching in my memory I know my father travelled
on the SS Pasteur, and the Grace lines Santa Paula. I still have his crossing
the line certificate. , and I know that that he was posted to Canada SFTS (??) and spent 5 days on a
train to Saskatoon (??). The records show that 4 SFTS had Ansons whilst his
photo's show Oxfords, so a bit of doubt there. Then eventually to Nashville,
I assume by surface transportation as I have some photo's taken in New York.
Then to India. I know he went to Durban, and I know that the Santa Paula
sailed from Durban (Winston Special convoy) to Karachi on July 21st 1942.
I don't yet know how he got to Durban,ie from the UK or direct from USA.
This would get him to Drigh road in good time to assemble a Vengeance for you
After that I know he went to Burma, and did not get to the UK until
1946,when I met him for the 1st time.
When I am re-united with all my stuff I must try to assemble his wartime
travels.
John

ian16th
10th Jul 2016, 14:54
Ex-RAF Mauripur (or whatever they call it now).It was PAF Base Mauripur as recently as 1963, 214 used it as a base for Valiant Tankers when we were doing the non-stop flights to Singapore and Sydney. We also staged through with Javelins.

I even did a week there in December 63 with 73 Sqdn from Akrotiri. I was attached from the Electronics Centre for a CENTO exercise, I looked like a real Mooney, but it turned out I was the only guy on the detachment who had been there before.

But it is now named PAF Base Masroor, dunno when that happened.

sycamore
10th Jul 2016, 16:06
esa-a, maybe your father should have done the `Wright` course,as the VV had a Cyclone R-2600....!

Danny42C
10th Jul 2016, 17:11
John (#8859),

Looks like he was in the right place at the right time, then. Anything further you can dig up about the Vengeance connection would be welcome.

Danny.

Danny42C
10th Jul 2016, 17:29
ian16th (#8860),
...But it is now named PAF Base Masroor, dunno when that happened...
Or why ? Can understand why all the British names were Indianised after 1947, but what is wrong with "Mauripur" ? (Perhaps that was too "Hindi" so had to go into "Urdu" ?)

Just a wild guess.

Danny.

esa-aardvark
10th Jul 2016, 18:38
Hello Sycamore,
I did know that the Vengence had a Wright, and I'm sure my father also
knew that. Still I now recall him, when I mentioned harmonic balancer
problems, telling me about the Pratt & Whitney system. Two bronze (?) balls
in a circular arced container presumeably opposite the master con rod.
They could move about so as to conteract the unbalance inherent in the
Master/slave conrod setup. No idea how that works in a 2/3 row engine.
Maybe he did the Wright course as well.
I think like Danny he went where he was sent & fought the war they gave him.
Regards, John

esa-aardvark
10th Jul 2016, 18:45
Danny, I'll keep thinking and trying to remember, possibly good for the brain.
He did tell me about getting a shave in bed, cut-throat raser, and tea brought
in the morning by the very people demanding independence. I know he was
still in India/Pakistan the day partition took place, and found it very frightening.
John.

Danny42C
11th Jul 2016, 10:51
John (#8865),
...trying to remember, possibly good for the brain...
Yes - but it gets harder as the years roll by !
... getting a shave in bed, cut-throat razor...
One chap in Chakrata was supposed to be able to do this without waking you up ! :eek:
...tea brought in the morning by the very people demanding independence...
No, they weren't ! The only difference Independence would make to him was that his new (Indian) Sahib would pay him a half (if he was very lucky) of what he was getting from us !
...and found it very frightening...
Yes, I was glad to get away home 18 months before, because we could see what was going to happen. As I've said somewhere: "When the hated colonial master went away, Pax Britannica went with him !" Death roll: two million (figure accepted at the time), or a million (revisionist historians who weren't there 70 years ago). Know which figure I prefer.

Danny.

Walter603
12th Jul 2016, 08:11
http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7670-2/STALAG+IVB+record.jpg

I remember that awful, first train journey from Greece to Germany. I remember many other train journeys taken in Germany, and especially the first one, that took us from Frankfurt to Muhlberg. 60 of us were crammed into a wooden, windowless railway truck, labelled in French "40 hommes, 8 cheveux" (40 men or 8 horses). I don't remember how long the journey took. I think it may have three days. We were exceedingly uncomfortable, underfed and underwater. Of course, we were the lowest priority in railway traffic - everything else came first.

When we arrived at the Muhlberg rail head, (about 120, I think, or two carriage loads) we were offloaded and marched a long way to the prison camp, escorted by yelling guards making passes at us with their bayonets if we strayed out of line or dawdled. It was then snowing, and very, very cold. I think it was about 16th December 1943.

We arrived at the camp just as dusk was falling, and were put into a long barracks hut, all timber, with 3-tier wooden bunks, rows and rows of them, along the right-hand side. There were 240 beds altogether, and we filled the lot. We were all Air Force air crew, gathered up from different battle zones, but mainly those shot down over Germany during bombing raids from England.

I don't remember if there were prisoners already occupying the hut, or if it filled up later, but the place was certainly full by Christmas. I had a top bunk, very deficient in bed boards, and not far under the ceiling, which was of a compressed material rather like a mixture of cardboard and wood chips. The huts were built as double-ended accommodation with a central washing area, all concrete, with several cold water taps for personal use, and for washing clothes. The latter was a most difficult task, using "ersatz" (artificial) soap occasionally doled out grudgingly by our captors. This soap was heavy, making the water a bluish colour, and produced very little lather.

The other end of our building, also accommodating about 240, was occupied by soldiers, mainly from the British Isles, but there were also some Cypriots and Greeks among them.

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7671-1/mugshot.jpg

From time to time, new inmates arrived on the camp, after their days of interrogation at Dulag Luft, Frankfurt. Having been recently shot down while taking part in the air raids over Germany, we eagerly sought news from them; how the war was going, what conditions were like in England, which Squadrons they were members of, etc.

Becoming acclimatised to our new way of life was very depressing. There was little to eat, of course. The Germans were not about to waste good food on useless prisoners. We received basic rations of soup (we called it "skilly") made from turnips, mangels, potatoes, etc., none of them too clean, and not too plentiful. Boiled potatoes were dished up two or three time a week, but they also were not plentiful, and they had to be shared among groups of men called "syndicates". For convenience, we would band together on these occasions with, for example, five men in each syndicate. A measure of potatoes would be doled out to us - always an odd number , by some peculiar quirk. Think of nine - for instance - different sized spuds, to be divided up between five hungry men! Eagle eyes watched the share-out, as they were cut up and distributed.

The same system operated with the horrible German rye bread. A couple of times weekly, we would receive a portion cut from one of these heavy, indigestible loaves, and an instruction as to how many men it was to feed. Then the portion had to be cut very, very carefully so as to provide each man with a similar part. Even the crumbs were carefully doled out! Very rarely, we received portions of cooked meat, which we thought was horseflesh, but it was always in the smallest quantities. Also available every morning was a huge tub of rusty coloured warm water. This came in at about 10am, and those who had to shave (I was not one, fortunately) would collect a mugful, to take to the wash-house for their daily scrape, usually with an extremely blunt razor. I think I had been in the prison camp about two months, when the discovery was made that the rusty "hot water" was actually a ration of morning coffee! Made with roasted and ground acorns, it was never any good, even when made in strength. The men continued to use it as shaving water - it was a little better than the stone-cold variety that came from the taps.

Every morning at 6am we had "appel", the roll-call to ensure that no prisoners had escaped. This duty was carried out inefficiently and with some sadism by the guards. We were forced to stand near our huts for very long periods in the most bitter weather, while the stupid soldiery counted slowly and very inaccurately, up and down the lines. Finally, satisfied that all was correct, we were allowed back into our huts, where we tried to get warm with an early brew of tea or coffee.

These drinks were made from the supplies in our Red Cross parcels and, without the food contained in them, we would undoubtedly have starved. The precious parcels were issued in the good times at the rate of one per prisoner, each week. In bad times, they were shared, sometimes between two, and often between four or more. The mixed tins of stew, meat, margarine or butter, and the packets of biscuits, dried fruit, and sometimes of chocolate, made up a parcel weighing about 2 pounds (a little under 1kg) and were eaten very carefully to make them last through the week.

There were two stoves in each hut - that is, at each end and some distance in from the doorways, there was an enclosed brick fire, with flat iron plates on top, that served as our cooking range. Both fires led to a central chimney, so that there was a degree of warmth to be gained from the flues. On the plates, 240 of us had to boil our water for drinks, and do what little cooking we were able to manage with the limited food in our parcels. We had self-appointed fire sentries, who would stand all day at the stoves, call out numbers from the tags placed on the tea-billies to identify the owners, and move them to one side to make way for the next billy or dixy in line.

Among other shortages, we hadn't much in the way of fuel. We had to use artificially made coal blocks very carefully, as they were doled out to us from the central store. A "coal fatigue" from our hut went for its rations one day, with me as one of the party. With the German sentries standing guard as the coal was taken from the shed, we managed to create a series of diversions, meanwhile kicking along extra coal blocks furtively from man to man, until finally the stolen extra blocks were hastily thrown into a sack and spirited away to our hut. By this time, our unsuspecting sentries were in a furious state at our distracting diversions, and very close to bayonetting any prisoner close enough to reach.

Life under these conditions was very tedious, of course. Various ways were employed to lighten our lot, by our own comrades. There was a system of voluntary classes formed by teachers of one kind or another. I enrolled in a Forestry class, and in Bridge. I think I took one or two lessons in the former, but none in Bridge, before I was off from the camp in my bid to escape. With hindsight, I equate those classes to our current system of U3A (University of the Third Age) that provides education, information and diversion for our retirees.

Stanwell
12th Jul 2016, 09:18
An excellent post and much appreciated.
Thank you, Walter.

Danny42C
12th Jul 2016, 11:40
Walter,

Another absorbing chapter in your via dolorsa as a POW in Germany; those of who escaped that fate think: "there but for the grace of God....". And at that, they were better off than the Japanese captives. (Pilots were sometimes beheaded with the sword, the Japs seem to have had a particular dislike to us - but in any case the victims might find this preferable to being starved and worked to death).

Congratulations on keeping your Identity card all this time. How meticulous they were !

Strange to see your height given as "5.9", but the weight in Kg. But then, I recall going into a hardware shop once with careful measurements in mm for a tap adaptor. Chap in brown dust coat looked at this scornfully. "Drei vertel zoll " ("3/4 in"), he said, and reached down the bit I wanted fom the shelf. Seems imperial measures alive and well there in 1960, perhaps the same held good in your case.

And they recorded the shape of your skull and nose. You were pale faced (no wonder). And was the wound on your right leg from your ditching ?
...those who had to shave (I was not one, fortunately)...
That stopped me in my tracks ! A battle-hardened Beaufighter pilot - and he doesn't have to shave yet ! People today just wouldn't believe it. (of course, it only meant you'd decided to grow a beard).

Might not need to shave, but could do with haircut ! (mugshot). Fredghh (RIP) said that they "sheared him to the bone" and then billed him for it !
...I had a top bunk, very deficient in bed boards...
Might've been for fuel, more probably the shoring-up of a tunnel (seen too many POW films !)
...and for washing clothes. The latter was a most difficult task, using "ersatz" (artificial) soap...
Probably the same as the sea-water soap they gave me on the troopship. Useless.
...artificially made coal blocks...
We had the same sort of things at home (slack and coal dust compressed in to small blocks - "Coalite" ?
...before I was off from the camp in my bid to escape...
Now don't wait too long before telling us all about it". Fred told us that he'd "been on the run from the Gestapo for six weeks" - then, sadly, left us before he could tell the story.

Keep the ball rolling, Walter !

Danny.

Walter603
13th Jul 2016, 04:39
Danny.
I didn't shave until I was back in Blighty and getting on to be 23! No, I didn't grow a beard. As you noticed I kept most of my hair on top of my head. Still got lots of it, now white!

Yes, the minor wound on my leg was caused during the ditching.
I'm surprised you examined the PoW record so thoroughly. It came into my hands quite a long time after the war. A "brave" Jewish air-gunner (title bestowed by Germans because of his religion daring to fly over their country) raided the Stalag orderly room after his release and took several sets of records including mine. Then he tracked me down from the adjoining London suburb where he lived and gave me the souvenir. His name was Mark Cohen.

Walter.

Chugalug2
13th Jul 2016, 10:03
Walter, like Danny you have the enviable ability to recall seemingly mundane detail about your experiences of over 70 years ago. Of course, the detail is anything but mundane as it puts us at your side on that interminable journey, and in the POW camp. Coffee that was no such thing, but at least hot enough to shave with! Crumbs that had to be shared out equally, similarly with Red Cross parcels (that at least were delivered even in the bad times!).

The comradeship of shared privation is best exemplified by your tale of Mark Cohen's raid on the camp orderly room and then tracking you down after the war (and presumably as many others as he was able to) to unite you with your "Dulag Luft Kreigsgefangenenkartel". As Danny comments, the living might have been hard, but it was at least scrupulously and meticulously recorded!

That Mark Cohen was Jewish reminds us of another member of that faith, Reg Lewin, who described his war to us and of the sub-war that they fought, even in defiance of their own side, to ensure the future of their new homeland for the survivors of the Holocaust.

Brian 48nav
13th Jul 2016, 11:22
I found your description of the POW camp very poignant, as my late father was incarcerated from late '42 to the end of the war. He was a private in the East Surrey regiment.

He never spoke of his time as a prisoner, all I can remember being told was that he took part in the landings in Algeria in November '42 ( Operation Torch? ), was captured by the Germans in Tunisia and flown in a JU52 to a POW camp in Italy. I guess he was lucky not to have been shot down by the RAF or RN based in Malta!

After the Italians capitulated, they all did a runner but were soon recaptured by the Germans and he ended up having to work in a coal mine near Zwickau.

I only discovered after his early death in 1970, aged 51, that he had picked up a kidney infection in the Italian camp and was subsequently discharged from the army in early '46 as medically unfit. He collected his demob' suit and tried to get on with the rest of his life. I guess he may have been entitled to some sort of pension, but he never claimed one. He had hated every minute of the 6 plus years he had spent as a soldier and just wanted to put it all behind him.

Danny42C
13th Jul 2016, 11:39
Chugalug,

Reg Lewen ? (couldn't have confused him with Reg Levy, Sir ?) He (RIP) told us here of the amazing story of his war, an interlude postwar running round in a van flogging cut priced toilet rolls to seedy hotels in Bayswater - and then a wonderful career, culminating as a Captain with Sabena, including the gripping account of his hi-jacking at Tel Aviv and the outwitting of the hi-jackers which made him world-famous.

Incorporated it into a book ("Night Flak to Hi-Jack"). Have the Kindle, can recommend.

Walter,
...As you noticed I kept most of my hair on top of my head. Still got lots of it, now white!
...
Couldn't spare any of it for me, by any chance ?

All honour to Mark Cohen for quick thinking as a POW, and then the assiduity with which he tracked down his former comrades in adversity.
...A "brave" Jewish air-gunner..
As was my Auxiliary C.O. at Thornaby, Wing Commander David Brown DSO (61 ops).
We stand humbly before such men.

Danny.

Chugalug2
13th Jul 2016, 12:59
Danny:-
Reg Lewen ? (couldn't have confused him with Reg Levy, Sir ?)

Indeed I could, Danny. Mea Culpa, I remembered his PPRuNe ID, Regle, but misremembered that it stood for Reg Levy and not Lewin as I posted. I recently bought a shirt made by a firm with the latter name, so perhaps I got confused with that. Typically, you had no such senior moment!

Danny42C
13th Jul 2016, 16:18
Chugalug,

On the contrary, dear sir - my life is now one long Senior Moment "

Danny.

kghjfg
13th Jul 2016, 23:32
Walter,

thankyou for another riveting instalment. I was saying to someone recently that it's strange to be able to converse with somebody who was actually there.

My generation have read the books, and we've watched the films, somehow it's more real in this format. Sometimes it's hard to comprehend that the experiences on this thread aren't 3rd hand or 2nd hand, you were actually there.

Sometimes you've done things we can only dream about, and sometimes you've done things that we only dream about in nightmares. Once again I take my hat off to all who post on this thread.

ian16th
14th Jul 2016, 08:25
Danny42
But then, I recall going into a hardware shop once with careful measurements in mm for a tap adaptor. Chap in brown dust coat looked at this scornfully. "Drei vertel zoll " ("3/4 in"), he said, and reached down the bit I wanted fom the shelf. Seems imperial measures alive and well there in 1960,Still alive and well in the 21st century.

British_Standard_Pipe (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Standard_Pipe)

Danny42C
14th Jul 2016, 08:56
ian16th,

Wiki says they (pipe sizes) are "international". But surely not. How about China, (say) ?

Danny.

ian16th
14th Jul 2016, 09:58
Danny,

I am not that well travelled, but I am very aware that here in this southern colony that 'went metric' in a very vindictive anti-British way, still uses BSP plumbing bits.

I also have a pet hate for thing that are 'metrified', they are things that are manufactures/built to imperial sizes/standards but are expressed in metric units.

Fitted carpeting that is made on Imperial machines, comes in 6', 9' and 12' widths and is priced by the square metre is a prime example.

A double bed is 4'6" wide and a King Size is 6'! But they are expressed in metric units.

My local h/w shop sells timber that is cut to 183cm lengths! The daft staff don't realise that they mean 6'.

I'll calm down now and have a cup of Ceylon tea. I like the fact they don't call it Sri Lankan tea.

Danny42C
14th Jul 2016, 10:39
ian16th,

Assam much more fragrant !

Danny.

Fareastdriver
14th Jul 2016, 15:12
Wiki says they (pipe sizes) are "international". But surely not. How about China, (say) ?

Imperial used in China like everywhere else.

Imperial is used for thread sizes all over the world because Great Britain invented modern plumbing. Once upon a time pipe was either threaded or joined with lead solder wiped with moleskin. The advent of pre-soldered joints, a British invention by the Yorkshire Copper works in 1934 led to copper tubes in Imperial sizes replacing iron and lead pipes.
When the UK succumbed to metrification, our USA cousins didn't, the pipe sizes changed from 3/8 to 15mm. and 1/2 to 22mm. etc. However, the Europeans couldn't fiddle the thread sizes as it would cause chaos so they have been left alone.

ian16th
14th Jul 2016, 17:03
The advent of pre-soldered joints, a British invention by the Yorkshire Copper works in 1934 led to copper tubes in Imperial sizes replacing iron and lead pipes.Ah! The much missed Yorkshire Fitting, unheard of in this southern colony.

A rub with steel wool, a smear of flux and then wave a blowlamp at it. Fixed.

Danny42C
14th Jul 2016, 18:34
Walter,

Don't want to pre-empt your gripping tale, but (supposing your escape attempt to have failed), did you go on the Long March at the very end ? I had a fellow ATC instructor at Shawbury, an ex-nav who did, and he told a harrowing tale.

Seems the Germans wanted to hold on to their prisoners as bargaining counters or hostages, when it would have been much easier for them to leave them behind to be liberated by the advancing Allies. In my friend's case, a squadron of Russian tanks reached them first, the Camp guards had already fled in terror, the tank commander detached a tank which drove round the barbed wire perimeter two or three times to smash all the fence posts and grind the wire into the ground.

Then the Russian tank crew said (in Russian barrack-room language, I imagine), "Off you go, if you don't mind, chaps !", left them to it, and roared off in headlong pursuit to the West.

Danny.

John Eacott
15th Jul 2016, 11:34
Walter,

Don't want to pre-empt your gripping tale, but (supposing your escape attempt to have failed), did you go on the Long March at the very end ?

Danny, you are jumping way too far ahead!

I'll ask Dad to update the story but you may have to be patient ;)

Danny42C
15th Jul 2016, 12:27
John,

"Mea maxima culpa" Duly chastened ! Will possess soul in patience.

Danny.

Danny42C
15th Jul 2016, 14:58
FOR WHAT IT IS WORTH

Today is St. Swithin's Day. It is belting down here ! :mad:

Danny.

Walter603
17th Jul 2016, 09:24
There were one or two concert parties formed, which were allowed to tour around and visit the huts until "lights out", which was about 8pm each night. There was also a clever system of play-reading, called Radio Plays, that were put on by erecting a hessian screen "box" in the middle of a hut, behind which the readers would recite their parts, providing much the same effect as we would have had with a real radio play.

A camp "Wall Newspaper" was produced at regular intervals by some inspired colleagues from another part of the Stalag. Using Red Cross wrapping paper, and any other material they could scrounge, the newspaper was laboriously and beautifully handwritten, and illustrated with great talent. It was pinned or pasted onto plywood boards - again from the Red Cross packing cases in which our parcels were delivered - and taken round in sequence to the huts of the English speaking prisoners. It would remain for a day or two in each hut, before being carried on to the next. Of course, the "news" was carefully prepared, to avoid any wrathful censoring by the Germans. Much of it was very innocuous, consisting of information concerning various prisoners, usually just arrived, their home towns, how they had been shot down, etc. Care was also exercised not to give away any military secrets or information that could be useful to the enemy.

Shortly after arrival at Muhlberg, I struck up a close friendship with George Lloyd, previously mentioned, who had been a navigator in Bomber Command. Shot down over Holland in about August 1943, he had been hidden away by Dutch patriots for 3 months. On the very eve of the day he was to be smuggled across the Channel back to England, his hosts had been betrayed, and were no doubt later executed. George went through the usual routine of being threatened with death as a spy, before being sent to the interrogation centre where we first met. George's home was 23 Aquinas Street, Waterloo - an inner suburb of London. Recently married, his wife was expecting their first child when he was shot down. He had much to think about during his captivity.

Early on he proposed that we two escape as soon as possible. He made a jacket from an old, grey blanket he had acquired, I think, from an Italian prisoner by swapping some of his Red Cross food for it. This, together with a few tins of food we were able to save from our parcels and a rudimentary map, were stored through a hole in the ceiling just above our bunks.

Air Force prisoners were rather more stringently guarded than others. The Germans rightly reckoned that we were more likely to escape, or to cause trouble, than other prisoners - and this was correct! Although our hut full of Air Force personnel of various categories was well mixed with the Army, and not far from the Russian prisoners. This was mainly because the camp had become so full. Most of the Air Force, and particularly the Australian Air Crew, were billeted in a "camp within a camp". Their compound was well inside the main camp, and was itself surrounded by additional barbed wire fencing.

The Air Force boys were regularly harassed by the German guards. At short notice, they were often turned out of their huts, which were thoroughly searched and often vandalised by the spiteful "goons" as we called the guards. One or two gifted lads made a radio, most ingeniously, from scrounged parts and various bits of scrap. We had news regularly from the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation). The news broadcasts were listened to very stealthily and carefully, for a few minutes every evening at 9pm, and the set returned to its hiding place - a hole in the ground in front of the main door of one of the huts. Attempts were made by the Goons to find the radio. They knew darned well that it existed, and on one occasion they came very close to finding it, but their attempts always ended in failure.

Captured soldiers below officer rank were made to work and working parties were always being formed within the camp, to be sent out at regular intervals wherever the Germans required some slave labour. For obvious reasons, as stated, the airmen aircrew were never allowed out of the main camp. From time to time, a few airmen managed to swap places with the soldiers detailed to be sent out. It was easier to escape from a small working party, with working commitments during the day, than to get out of the main prison camp, surrounded as it was by elaborate barbed wire fences, patrolled by guards and illuminated at night with roving searchlights.

In March 1944, George and I made contact with a British Army Warrant Officer, given the task of forming up the working parties from the names of soldiers selected by the Germans. We were introduced to two soldiers who felt they would rather stagnate in Stalag IVB than be made to work for the rest of the war. During the day, we briefed each other on our personal histories, names, ranks and numbers, etc. Before "lights out", George and I went to the soldiers' huts, having assumed their identities, and they went to ours.

George Lloyd became Gunner Sydney Oliver, and I became Fusilier James Leslie, an Irish soldier, of 74 Great William O'Brien Street, Cork, in the Irish Free State!

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7681-2/Eingang_StaLag_IVB_001.JPG

Walter603
17th Jul 2016, 10:53
Brian48nay.
That's sad Brian. Your Dad certainly was entitled to a war injury pension for his suffering. What a pity that he wasn't counselled to make the claim.

Chugalug.
Sorry but I've made other arrangements for my hair. A couple of elderly ladies have decided they will share it!
Walter.

Danny42C
17th Jul 2016, 12:06
Walter,

Yet another feast of details, each one begging for comment ! First out of the trap:
...providing much the same effect as we would have had with a real radio play..
Truly: "Necessity is the mother of Invention !"
...One or two gifted lads made a radio, most ingeniously, from scrounged parts and various bits of scrap...
As one whose technical knowledge here begins and ends with the on-off knob (remember them ?), this fills me with wonder and admiration.
...he proposed that we two escape as soon as possible. He made a jacket from an old, grey blanket he had acquired...
What a range of skills there seems to have been in the camps ! (tailors, skilled forgers and many other trades used them to assist the escapees).

Never having been in the position, it seems to me that escaping from the camp would be the easy part. The hard bit would be the getting out of Germany to a neutral border, or to an occupied country, where there were brave people willing to risk their lives to help you.
...I became Fusilier James Leslie, an Irish soldier, of 74 Great William O'Brien Street, Cork...
Congratulations on your change of nationality ! :ok: My ancestral home: the O'###### come from County Cork.
...in the Irish Free State!...
I believe is is a matter of record (although I cannot quote one) that in WWII there were more volunteers per head from the Republic than from Northern Ireland (although there were naturally far more conscipts per head from there).

They did not receive a hero's welcome when they came home after the war was won....:suspect:

Cannot resist retelling this little story (from Readers Digest) which explains the paradox: The ferries ran Holyhead-Dublin throughout the war. In late 1940, R.D. correspondent chats over taffrail with an athletic young man in tweed jacket and grey flannels: "Why don't you Irish give the British the use of your Channel ports ?"......"We hate the British !"...."So do you want Hitler to win this war ?"...."Of course not !"....."So what are you doing about it ?"......"I fly a Hurricane !"

"Collapse of stout Party" as Victorian "Punch" used to say.

More, more !

Danny.

Danny42C
17th Jul 2016, 12:19
Walter (#8888),

Me first ! (#8873). Chugalug, might be a bit left for you (sorry, old man).

D.

Buster11
18th Jul 2016, 10:40
My father, who flew DH 6s, RE 8s and DH 9As in WW1, was a codes and ciphers officer in WW2 and ended up in Stalag Luft III after being captured in Crete. I have some of his notes on the Cretan invasion and on the ‘Long March’ in early 1945. Would these, and an account of his activities, be appropriate on this thread, though he wasn’t WW2 aircrew?

Fareastdriver
18th Jul 2016, 13:56
Would these, and an account of his activities, be appropriate on this thread, though he wasn’t WW2 aircrew?

Of course they would! My old squadron was involved in Crete. Go ahead.

Danny42C
18th Jul 2016, 14:30
Buster11,

By all means they would ! And welcome ! As we old boys are dying out, many of their sons (and grandsons) are telling their stories posthumously from old notes and logbooks (cf "Wg Cdr Arthur Gill, OBE, DFC" on this Forum at present).

Danny42C.

Fantome
18th Jul 2016, 14:38
whenever the subject of Crete's role in the Second World War comes up I immediately think of this great poem by Kenneth Slessor. He was an Australian war correspondent reporting in Greece and reporting from Crete before going to North Africa to cover Tobruk and El Alamein. In this poem he describes the washed up casualties of a torpedoed war ship.. 'Purple ' refers to the indelible pencil used to inscribe the hastily tacked together crosses making each grave.

Beach Burial – Kenneth Slessor

Softly and humbly to the Gulf of Arabs
The convoys of dead sailors come;
At night they sway and wander in the waters far under,
But morning rolls them in the foam.

Between the sob and clubbing of the gunfire
Someone, it seems, has time for this,
To pluck them from the shallows and bury them in burrows
And tread the sand upon their nakedness;

And each cross, the driven stake of tidewood,
Bears the last signature of men,
Written with such perplexity, with such bewildered pity,
The words choke as they begin –

"Unknown seaman" –the ghostly pencil
Wavers and fades, the purple drips,
The breath of the wet season has washed their inscriptions
As blue as drowned men's lips,

Dead seamen, gone in search of the same landfall,
Whether as enemies they fought,
Or fought with us, or neither; the sand joins them together,
Enlisted on the other front.

El Alamein

(if this resonates then make sure to read his equally moving 'Five Bells' about his friend Joe Lynch who disappeared one night from a ferry in Sydney Harbour, during the war. . the pockets of his overcoat weighed down with a couple of long-necks. Obviously Beach Burial was finished after he got to El Alamein.)

Chugalug2
18th Jul 2016, 19:44
Walter, many thanks for yet another detailed and revealing post. What a grand edifice was the Gate House of M.Stammlager IVB. Was the Camp Commandant a Berliner perhaps? If you replaced the Watchtower with 4 Gee-Gees, a Go-Cart, and a woman driver, it would be a dead ringer for the Brandenburg Gate. Perhaps he should have spent more time counting them all out through said gate, counting them all in, and checking on who exactly them was rather than building his matchstick marvel!

Good to know that the RAF and the RAAF boys were a constant irritant, for that was surely their purpose, to constantly stretch the internal security resources of the Reich so that none could be released to the front, indeed the very opposite was required at times. Similarly with the Bomber Offensive from which many of them had come. Fighters, Anti Aircraft Guns, their supporting Radar and Searchlight Units, Control Centres, and a Million Men all held within the Reich rather than fighting for it on the many foreign fronts. I rather suspect yet another irritant is about to be added to their other many worries, but like Danny I must be patient!

Danny, thank you for your kind offer but I must defer to you as Senior Officer present to get first dibs at any excess follicles divvied out by Walter. Just don't do a Boris or a Trump with it, please!

Warmtoast
18th Jul 2016, 22:26
Walter603

Your post #8887 above.
George went through the usual routine of being threatened with death as a spy, before being sent to the interrogation centre where we first met. George's home was 23 Aquinas Street, Waterloo - an inner suburb of London. Recently married, his wife was expecting their first child when he was shot down.

Here's how 23 Aquinas Street, adjacent to Waterloo Station, looked last year when photographed by Google (the right of the two black doors opposite). Probably in the 1940's a very working class area, nowadays relatively upmarket being very near to the centre of London.


http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Google%20View_zpskyghbiga.jpg

Danny42C
19th Jul 2016, 08:20
Fantome,

Thank you for the very moving verses (Slessor was a poet, for sure). One way and another, the Mediterranean must have been awash with corpses during the war. Mercifully they would sink to the bottom after a few days hovering between night and day. Few, I imagine, would be beached to receive even a hurried burial. "Davy Jones' Locker" for he rest.

Warmtoast,
...nowadays relatively upmarket being very near to the centre of London...
Ah, hindsight, hindsight ! If only you'd had a bit of spare capital at the time of the blitz, I suppose you could have bought these places for a song and made a killing after the war.

Nearly as good as buying up war-surplus new Spitfires for £25 a throw and storing them in an old barn for 70 years !

Chugalug,

Yes, it was rather an Arc de Triomphe, wasn't it ? "Stammlager" puzzled me a bit; omniscient Wiki tells me it is "Stalag" written out in full. You live and learn.

Irritants: note that all the prisoners are out of step with the guard !

Flowing Locks: there won't be much left after I've been re-thatched !

Cheers, both, Danny.

Fareastdriver
19th Jul 2016, 12:35
Nearly as good as buying up war-surplus new Spitfires for £25 a throw

I lived on the airfield at Aldergrove in 1948-50. The MU there was frantically disposing of aircraft left, right and centre. The father told me that the first thing the did before the scrappies came along was to saw through the main spars so they wouldn't find their way to other air forces.

Stanwell
19th Jul 2016, 13:33
I had mentioned, in passing, on the 'Wg Cdr Gill' thread, a silly old fart at my local airport who, back then, was considered by the 'Cessna Crowd'
to be a bit of an eccentric junk collector.

Amongst his collection of 'junk' was a complete and original Me109G as well as a similarly original Nakajima Ki-43 'Oscar', a brace of Spitfire Mk.VIIIs,
two DC2s, a Lockheed 10A, a couple Ansons and, so the list went on.
He was continually being hassled to move his junk and make room for more useful stuff.
Both Spits (for example) are currently flying (one in UK and the other in Oz) and the Messerschmitt and Oscar are in our national museum, considered too valuable
to be let out from under cover, let alone fly.

As is so often the case, he died close to penniless but, thankfully, solely due to that 'silly old fart', those machines are still with us today.
.

SMOKEON
19th Jul 2016, 15:54
Sorry,Danny, re.#8889,but I think you will find that Conscription was not introduced in N. Ireland during WW2. Thus, all were volunteers, and not Conscripts from the province of Northern Ireland.
Of course, I stand to be corrected, but that is my understanding of the situation.

Danny42C
19th Jul 2016, 18:46
SMOKEON (your #8900),

Checked with Google/Wiki - seems you're right. Mea Culpa !

Turned up:
Ireland Republic Population [from] 1841.PNG
Eire population ca 3m in 1939 (interpolation from graph)

Demography of Northern Ireland - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demography_of_Northern_Ireland
N. Ireland Population 1939 1.295m.

Now:

Voluntary enlistment
In Northern Ireland, approximately 38,000 people volunteered for service in the British armed forces between 1939 and 1945 - including 7,000 women. There were in fact more volunteers from neutral Éire with approximately 43,000 men and women enlisting in the British armed forces during the war.[5] Some evidence suggests that the numbers of volunteers from Northern Ireland in the Second World War was considered disappointing by contemporary standards. [Wiki]

But pro capita, the numbers from N. Ireland appear as 3.4%, from Eire 1.4%. - so you're still right ! :ugh:

Danny 42C.

Buster11
19th Jul 2016, 21:24
My father was born in 1899. He joined the Royal Naval Air Service in the First World War in May 1918, initially training at Greenwich, was transferred briefly to the Royal Flying Corps and then to the newly-formed RAF. His training on DH 6s was at Fowlmere. He was later posted to East Fortune, where I recall he spoke of having flown in the R34 airship, presumably as talking ballast. He then flew De Havilland 9As in 22 Group and RE-8s on 155 Sqn; luckily the War ended before he flew operationally. In 1919 he studied art at Goldsmiths College in London, at the same time as Rowland Hilder and Eric Frazer; he worked as an illustrator and produced travel posters, book illustrations and numerous ads, mainly at the Clement Dane studio. In 1939 he joined the RAFVR and was called up on the outbreak of War, doing his training as a codes and ciphers officer at RAF Uxbridge. I was four at the time and my main recollection is that we were staying near Oxford at the time, where lardy cake and Walls choc ices featured (proper plain chocolate covering and contents made from milk rather than seaweed extracts and palm oil, and wrapped in silver paper with a blue zig-zag pattern on it); 2d each from a stop-me-and-buy-one trike.
In late 1939 he was posted to HQ 202 Group in Cairo, travelling there by sea; he was there for about a year. It surprises me now that he managed to send home a splendid silver-plated copper circular coffee table about four feet diameter, with an intricate incised design on it, all this at a time of war. During that time his rather sparse service records mention a carbuncle on his arm, resulting in transfer to hospital in Heliopolis; he told me that this was in a Bristol Bombay. He then moved to RAF HQ at Heraklion in Crete, flying there in a Sunderland. He sent home large numbers of photographs of Egypt and Crete, all with copious details on the back. He was most enthusiastic about the Cretan scenery and he did numerous sketches while he was there.
When the German parachute and glider-borne landings on Crete took place in May 1941 he was operating from a cave in hills above the airfield and saw the strafing and landings on the airfield from a slightly safer spot than some. I have some notes he made of his activities on May 20th, the day the German glider and parachute assault began.
That’s probably enough for the moment; more follows.

Walter603
20th Jul 2016, 05:55
Hello Warmtoast. Yes I can see that the street is updated. It weemed like a huge block of flats when I last visied in about 1947. My wartime pal George emigrated to Canada some time before I came to Australia. When I posted that photo I had a feeling that someone would recognise the address.
Walter

Walter603
20th Jul 2016, 06:11
Chugalug. Yes you ar right with your impression that we made fun of the Goons whenever possible. It became almost a hobby to annoy them, and certainly a necessity when obtaining illicit coal blocks, for example.

Chugalug2
20th Jul 2016, 07:40
Buster, a great start indeed! I don't know how much material you have to hand, but could I earnestly beg you not to précis it down at all? It is the seemingly irrelevant, the "by the ways" (like your detailed description of a Walls Ice Cream Choc Ice!) that sets the scene so well. I realise that they may well be your BTWs rather than your father's but they are all equally valid.

In short, stretch it out as much as you are able to. It gives we avid readers of your posts the opportunity to go wandering down the deserted byways of bygone themes; rationing, mail, uniforms, vehicles, etc, and of course aircraft. Danny has led us down many such cul-de-sacs in the past. Every one was a delight!

Walter603
20th Jul 2016, 08:15
Early next morning, with some trepidation, we were sent out of Muhlberg. There were 40 of us Army personnel and we were paraded and inspected very carefully by the Feldwebel (the NCO in charge). Fortunately, he didn't have the time nor the intelligence(?) to check us all against our records and photographs, all held in the central office block. We were marched down to Muhlberg railway station and again loaded into horse wagons. Without the faintest knowledge of where we were going, or what lay ahead of us, we spent a trying three days crammed in the wagon. Each day, we were given a ration of bread and thin soup. One toilet pan was on board with us. At night we slept on a thin layer of hay, on the floor of the wagon.
(NOTE: I was astounded today when preparing this portion for posting, that I thought of checking “Google” on my computer to find that the distance between these 2 townships is only 50.2 kms, or 31 miles.)_

On the third day, we were unloaded at Annaburg, a small township in what later became Eastern Germany. We were marched to a small, wooden barracks not far out of the town and this was to be our home for several months. We were now in Stalag IVD. Clean, and furnished with double-tiered bunk beds, it was partly occupied by other British soldiers working for civilian contractors building a branch railway line. We forty men were housed in one small dormitory, with very little room for eating or leisure. Right next door was the cookhouse, fortunately placed for our escape when it came. The ablutions (wash room and laundry) were down the other end of the small compound and the toilets were outside, against the farthest barbed wire fence. We were allowed the arrival day in which to settle in. Next morning early, we were marched out under the watchful eyes of our guards. After about 35 minutes, we came to our workplace. We found that we were to be maintenance labourers on the main railway line which ran through Annaburg.

In charge of us was a spiteful German railway official whom we dubbed "Alf". Through an interpreter, a South African soldier named Craythorne whose German was never verygood, Alf gave orders and instructions and worked us very hard. Life became extremely miserable. The weather was still very cold and wet, and we had to do heavy manual labour, carrying sleepers, lengths of steel rail lines etc. Shovelling loads of "blue metal" chips (the familiar basalt or granite stones) on to the bed of the track and hammering the pieces under the sleepers to cushion the track, became a grinding, boring, exhausting job. All the time we were guarded by the goon sentries, who would scold us, goad us and make passes at us with their bayonets if they thought we were not working hard enough.

This work went on for some weeks, and all the time the weather was improving as we approached late spring. George and I became friendly with an intelligent young soldier named Fred Grinham, who wanted to join with us in any escape bid. Between us, we saved portions from our Red Cross parcels - a small tin of sardines here, a couple of Canadian dry biscuits, a tin of meat. This had to be done very carefully to ensure that we had enough food for our daily requirements, which meant sharing our parcels as much as possible. The hoard was carefully hidden from view of any suspicious guards. We enlisted the help of the two men who were put on kitchen duties, next door to our bunk room. During the days before our escape, they carefully prised away the barbed wire from around one of the windows outside by opening the frame as far as it would go and inserting a knife under the nails, gradually forcing it over a period until the fastenings were loosened. Any tampering was not obvious to inspecting eyes and we waited for the appropriate time to make our bid.

In May 1944 late one Saturday evening, after the usual day's hard work, we lay awake on our bunks. Everything was ready, and we were fully clothed, waiting with our stored food in a couple of "Eyetie" (Italian army) rucksacks and I with an R.A.F. escape compass hidden between the toes on my right foot. The next day being Sunday and a day off work, we anticipated a fairly slack check from the Goons, which would give us extra time before our disappearance was noticed. About midnight, we crept from the bunkhouse with its heavily sleeping men, and quietly entered the next-door kitchen. The window opened easily and we completed the job of removing the wire from the window frame outside. Each of us slipped over the edge of the window-sill, which had to be done head first and we achieved it with commendable quietness. Right next door was the German guardroom and as we made our exit from the hut we could hear that the radio was tuned in to an illicit station! It was well known that it was an offence for any German national to listen to foreign radio stations, yet it was obvious that the Goons were listening-in that night. Over the air came unmistakably the strains of "It's a Long Way to Tipperary", followed by another well-known British song which eludes me now, but I think it may have been "Where is my Wandering Boy Tonight?"

Buster11
20th Jul 2016, 08:47
Chug, I only have my father's personal notes covering a couple of periods, but the rest is my recollection of what he told us on his return. Some of it appeared a few years ago on the BBC2 Peoples' War archive.

There's quite a lot on my own time growing up near RAF Hartford Bridge, with plenty of the 'by the way' stuff in the same archive here:
BBC - WW2 People's War - THE WAR FROM AN AIR-MINDED BOY?S VIEWPOINT (http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ww2peopleswar/stories/21/a5282921.shtml)
but to include it all here would not be even remotely connected with this prince of thread's title, though it may explain my lifelong fascination with aviation in all its forms.

Danny42C
20th Jul 2016, 09:47
Buster11,

Welcome aboard, on this the Best of Threads, where (as I have previously said ad nauseam, "never is heard a discouraging word") - and certainly not an acrimonious one !

Chugalug2 has beaten me to it, well do I remember those Walls Choc Ices, particularly on a day like yesterday (thought I was back in Calcutta). Only snag was: it was all over in five minutes after you'd licked the stick and the foil to make sure you'd got every last bit ! Whereas you could make a 2d Cadburys Dairy Milk (say) last half an hour if you eked it out. On a bob a week pocket money, you had to budget carefully.

And (again, as Chugalug points out), you've hit the right note from the start. The "funny things that happened on your way to the theatre" are often far funnier than the show itself. And you know how to leave you audience "hanging". It's a gift.

Thank you for telling us your d/birth. Simple arithmetic shows you to be 14 years my junior (nobbut a lad, then), so you're 80. Have always thought PPRuNe should make declaration of age mandatory on registration, it enables the rest of us to put you in the right time frame. We're not shrinking violets, are we ? Not on this Thread !

Standing by for Next Gripping Instalment,

Danny.

Danny42C
20th Jul 2016, 15:47
Walter (#8906)
...Through an interpreter, a South African soldier named Craythorne whose German was never very good...
Probably using Africaans (Cape Dutch), which would bear enough resemblance to German to enable him to make a good stab at the meanings. Don't know how well it would work the other way, though.
...and as we made our exit from the hut we could hear that the radio was tuned in to an illicit station!...
As we used to listen in the UK to "Lord Haw-Haw's" broadcasts from Germany. His name was Joyce and we hanged him for treason after the war.

But you're surely not going to tell us what were your plans after you got out ? You must have had some idea of what to do first ! Did you have any forged identity papers ? Speaking no German, what nationality were you going to pretend to be ?

As I've said, getting out may have been the relatively easy bit - but now what ?

But am I "jumping the gun" again ?

In a ferment of anticipation, Danny.

Chugalug2
20th Jul 2016, 16:33
Buster 11, you may be nobbut a lad in Danny's eyes but you are nothing of the sort in mine. I was the snotty little 4 year old, always hanging around you older boys and always being told to clear off! So your recollections of being a 9/10 year old in the war are of great interest to me at least. I vaguely recall guns, tanks, and trucks magically appearing one morning, nose to tail, on the main road to Poole at the end of our road in West Bournemouth. I was then probably ushered back into our home, I usually was when anything exciting was going on (D-Day?)!

So I for one would be greatly intrigued by recollections of your boyhood in WWII. Perhaps a sequel to the story of your father's? I'll leave it to Danny to adjudicate. We have long since stretched the thread title to breaking point, so Danny as primus inter pares usually acts as unofficial thread moderator, though always ready to defer to the official ones of course.

You tell us that your father was a codes and cypher officer in the RAF and captured at the fall of Crete. Although trained by the RAF at Uxbridge could it be that he was actually attached to GCSS (Government Code and Cypher School) Bletchley Park, or the associated Y Service? Having just read Colossus: Bletchley Park's Last Secret by Paul Gannon, the breaking of the Geheimschreiber German High Command non-morse system started of course by intercepting the associated radio links. These were made as low powered and directional as possible, so that networks in the Mediterranean theatre would have required local monitoring Y service stations to capture the content and get it to BP for Colossus and the ancillary machines and operations required to decode. If that were the case I would suspect he would need a cover story to imply a far more mundane job that would not interest the nice people at Dulag Luft for example. Indeed whatever the codes and cyphers he dealt in the same would apply.

Perhaps I too am jumping the gun. Note to self, patience is a virtue!

Danny42C
20th Jul 2016, 18:15
Chugalug (#8910),
...I'll leave it to Danny to adjudicate. We have long since stretched the thread title to breaking point, so Danny as primus inter pares usually acts as unofficial thread moderator, though always ready to defer to the official ones of course...
You do me too much honour, Sir ! I have always disowned any attempt to picture me as the "primus" of anything. It was merely my good fortune to have found a welcome (first from you yourself, IIRC) home on this Thread four years ago, when the original stalwarts had gone to their rewards and things had grown quiet. There is nothing remarkable about my own story: it was just that of one of many thousands who "fought the war which they had been given" to the best of their ability.

Almost from the outset, Thread-drift set in, but our wise and infinitely patient Moderators allowed us endless leeway, content in the knowledge that old men ramble, but always ramble back home sooner or later. And they reckoned that the Grim Reaper (and we have one already in the ranks of PPruNe members) would solve the problem for them in the next few years. Alas, it was not so, the old boys (and the younger boys who took their cue from us) rambled ever more outrageously from the Thread title. I am reminded of a critic's description of the much loved "Last of the summer wine" as: "Just William" - with Pension Books !

Breaking Point (I don't think there is one). Our Moderators gave us up for lost, but yet stayed their hand. And then a wonderful thing happened. The "out of control" Thread gained an enormous following. At a current 2,151,429 "hits" (growing even now at 1,000 per day on average) it exceeds any other Thread on this Forum except "Caption Competition" (which of its very nature attracts everybody's interest). Truly a "Prince of Threads" indeed !

"Danny....usually acts as unofficial thread moderator". One of the most attractive features of this Thread is the good nature of its exchanges. Harsh words and argument 'ad hominem' have no place here and it is true that, on one or two occasions, I have taken it upon myself to utter a mild reproach in the form of: "Gentlemen, Gentlemen, we are all friends here" (or words to that effect).

"Adjudicate" ? Not I !.....:ok:

Danny.

Danny42C
20th Jul 2016, 21:40
Chugalug (afterthought to your #8910 and my #8911),
....Although trained by the RAF at Uxbridge could it be that he was actually attached to GCSS (Government Code and Cypher School) Bletchley Park, or the associated Y Service?...
Am not sure about this, but seem to remember something to the effect that those who were party to the "Ultra" secret were never sent where there was any possibility of their capture by the enemy - so vital was it that that secret be kept. However, if all he knew was that he was simply required to monitor and record enemy radio transmissions, but had no idea how they were being decoded, he could only tell (under extrene torture, say) what he knew, and that was quite unremarkable in itself.

I believe that, right to the bitter end, the German High Command refused to accept that their Enigma Machine code system could be broken - and indeed anyone of normal intelligence, having had the machine and its modus operandi explained to him, would agree that it is completely unbreakable. Based on the childishly simple idea of letter substitution, the mechanism was of such fiendish complexity that no one without another machine with the right Code settings (which were changed each day) could hope to decode the traffic. Possession of a machine without the Codes was of itself no value - although it was essental to formulate a means of attack on the system. Nevertheless, it was vital to secure examples of the machine, and many acts of heroism were performed for that purpose.

We were truly lucky to have had mathematical genii of the calibre of Alan Turing and his associates to devise a method of "cracking" the Codes, but even after a success, the manual calculations involved might have taken hours or days to perform, and the decoded data was out of date. Turing (assisted by some very clever GPO engineers) devised and built "Colossus" - the world's first electronic computer - which could perform in minutes computations which might have taken days to complete by hand.

Now we were "home and dry", to the extent that sometimes Churchill had on his desk transcripts of Hitler's orders to a General before the intended recipient had read them ! It was estimated that the advantage given to us certainly "turned the tide" of the U-boat campaign, and probably shortened the War by years, but that is unquantifiable.

Danny.

FantomZorbin
21st Jul 2016, 07:48
Danny

... but a 'primus' can always be relied upon to get a good 'brew' going and keep the pot 'on the boil', as do you Sir!

Buster11
21st Jul 2016, 08:07
Chug and Danny, I think it's pretty unlikely my father was ever at Bletchley Park, if only because of the dates. I think his duties would have been pretty routine. He was posted to the Air Ministry Codes & Ciphers School on Oct. 19th 1939 and by Dec. 2nd was at HQ Middle East. Added to this he didn't really have a devious mind and was usually pretty flummoxed by the Telegraph crossword.

Chug, you mention living at Poole; just after the War we stayed near Branksome Chine and I recall watching Boeing 314 Clippers doing circuits from Poole harbour, an impressive sight.

Regarding the memories of a nine year old during the War, I did post quite a lot of this on the BBC Peoples' War archive some years ago; not sure what the protocol is on using material en bloc that's appeared elsewhere, but I can presumably copy it to PPRuNe and it may need some additions anyway.

Chugalug2
21st Jul 2016, 09:03
Buster, the link that you gave to the People's War site helpfully confirms at the end of your entry that copyright rests with the author. It would appear that it is you who has to give yourself permission to reproduce it here. Hopefully you will be minded to grant that. :)

It seems we were briefly living nearby to one another. We were then in Robert Louis Stevenson Avenue, leading to Alum Chine. Thus I could be easily taken to the beach, but could not paddle in the water because of the continuous barbed wire defences in the way. Instead I became expert in the use of bucket and spade to construct endless sand-castles. We later moved to the north of Bournemouth and such expertise thus soon dwindled.

As to your Dad's job, Danny is quite right. If he had anything to do with BP, it would have been more likely as a part of the entirely separate Y Service, who garnered the raw intercepted product and would have no idea of its significance, other than it was deemed important enough to so gather. More likely though he was doing the same job as those on the other side, ie trying to ensure the security of our own comms.

BTW Danny, Colossus was used to break "Fish", the various forms of the none morse high speed machine generated product used by the German High Command, rather than the morse traffic generated by Enigma. Turing's Bombes were used to break the latter, Tommy Flowers of the Post Office Research Station at Dollis Hill designed Colossus in its various forms to help break the former. The Soviets later used the captured none morse technology for their own purposes which was then read at GCHQ Cheltenham, using much the same techniques used to read the German Geheimschreiber traffic. Thus the need to insinuate that Colossus was used to read Ultra rather than for instance the Lorenz SZ generated product Tunny. It was not.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turingery

Danny42C
21st Jul 2016, 09:11
Buster,
...not sure what the protocol is on using material en bloc that's appeared elsewhere...
Publish and be damned ! would be my advice. They wouldn't put a poor old man like me in jail, now would they ? (not sure about you !)

Danny.

Buster11
21st Jul 2016, 09:19
These are the notes my father made of his activities in Crete on May 20th 1941. Some of the writing, always small, makes some words hard to read.


“Left cave at 8 a.m. with Trumble, F/Lt Howlett. Joined near Heraklion by pilots without aircraft (and therefore off duty), Bennett …….. in car for Hissaria (Messara?) area. Had been all night at . (cave?) with Steele and other cy. offs. (who slept there for safety). Though warned that attack might come had no reason to suppose imminent tho’ bombing fairly heavy during night.


Heard later from cy. off. of Black Watch at Warburg that they (in their HQ cave 50 yards from ours) knew attack expected May 20th. F/Lt Babcock (of Maleme area) also
knew of impending attack expected May 20th – why had not Cania notified us?

Maleme appears to have been unaware since Groom (?) at Athens reported to have shown cyphers etc. captured there to Lewis Daly (?)

Other ranks from ‘drome allowed into Heraklion during afternoon of 20th (with arms), so it appears no-one there expecting anything. No messages rec’d up to say 2.00 p.m. F/Lt Cooper assumed duties station etc. in Trumble’s absence. Yet Deakin en route for Cania stopped before reaching Rethimno & told that place in Goon hands, returning to Herak. Found it under fire.

At Aja Dekka (?) found Argyle & Suth. in evident state of readiness and anticipation. On way there we stopped to inspect possible landing strip sites. At A.D. inspected several though later on arrival of Deak. and Martin (?) Trumble refused to show them selected (?) site, giving me the impression that they had already been given particulars of it.

After lunch at A.D. we went 4 or 5 miles west still looking for sites. About 2.30 we began return to Herak., but had not gone far when we were suddenly attacked by e. aircraft (at about 800 ft.). Proceeded on way after their passing, having stopped and left car to take cover ‘neath trees, but in hills NE of A.D. were again attacked and had to take cover. A mile or 2 further on, hurriedly pulling in under cover of trees by roadside to take cover again car stopped in swampy patch. On trying to re-start wheel slip etc. Took us an age to get her out (during which we were again visited by e. aircraft). Proceeded across hilly ridge and down towards Herak. Stopped by roadside under cover for rest at about 4.30 for hour. To us came RAF lorry (with petrol tins cargo) towing another, reporting that they’d been bombed just outside Herak. by Goons and that parachutists had landed and retreat cut off All returned to Aya Dekka ….. HQ in olive grove just W. of village near St. Titus church ruins.”


He was eventually captured and flown to Athens in a Junkers 52. From there he went by rail in a cattle truck across Jugoslavia and Austria to the Dulag Luft transit and interrogation camp near Frankfurt-am-Main. I think it was immediately after that that he was moved briefly to Marlag und Milag Nord, which was strange as it was believed to be a camp for Navy and Merchant Navy personnel.

Danny42C
21st Jul 2016, 10:01
Chugalug (#8916),
...Thus the need to insinuate that Colossus was used to read Ultra rather than the Lorenz SZ generated product Fish. It was not...
Once again, I must stand in the corner wearing my Dunce's Cap ! Ah, well. (Homer sometimes nods). Think we should resurrect YLSNED - You Learn Something New Every Day (or as the Good Book tells us: "There is no new thing under the Sun".

Retires grumpily into armchair.

Danny.

Danny42C
21st Jul 2016, 10:24
Buster (#8918),

"The Fog of War". What a perfect example of it ! (wandering around with no clear idea of what was going on next door, intelligence not shared, no notion of enemy intentions ....but that is what happens on the day. War is a messy business.

Twenty years later, in a quiet Staff College, it is all perfectly clear.
...Dulag Luft transit and interrogation camp near Frankfurt-am-Main. I think it was immediately after that that he was moved briefly to Marlag und Milag Nord, which was strange as it was believed to be a camp for Navy and Merchant Navy personnel.
Surely, as a commissioned officer, should have been an Oflag ?

Danny.

Chugalug2
21st Jul 2016, 10:29
Buster, your Dad's notes are both intriguing and revealing. In particular this:-

they (in their HQ cave 50 yards from ours) knew attack expected May 20th
Crete was a classic example of the quandary of Ultra. If we became aware of significant imminent Axis initiatives and took appropriate action, then it could reveal our ability to break the enemy codes. Thus aircraft had to be launched from Malta to "discover" an enemy convoy that we already knew about before we could attack it. In the case of Crete it was felt that to reinforce and prepare properly to repel the attack that was coming would again reveal that we were reading the German codes. So we didn't and it fell. Perhaps that is what your Dad is referring to?

Danny I fervently hope that the comfort of the armchair will quickly dissipate your grumpiness. I merely passed on the information gleaned from Paul Gannon's book, thus giving me the status of a right clever clogs. Don't worry, I'll just remain standing, you enjoy the armchair!

PS I see that you quoted my post before I edited it. Sorry, that is an annoying habit of mine. Just to explain, Fish was the overall code for all the "Secretwriter" traffic. Different type of machines and different networks utilised variations of Fish, hence Tunny, etc.

Danny42C
21st Jul 2016, 19:00
Buster (#8907),

A bit late now, but thank you for the link ! Five thousand miles away and preoccupied with "our" war, we had no idea about the details of civilian life back home at that stage of the conflict. The description of the primitive facilities in your cottage struck a chord in my memory. My grandfather's house in Southport, when I first knew it as a very small boy in the twenties, having been built around 1850, originally had only cold water (pumped from a well) in the kitchen; the only source of heat and hot water was the kitchen range in the living room; the galvanised bath was kept in the "wash house" outside with its "poss-tub" (coal fired) until "Friday night was Bath Night !" when it was brought into the living room and fed by kettles heated on the range. Light was by paraffin lamps and candles. At the bottom of the back yard was an earth closet.

By the time I came on the scene, gas provided lighting and cooking, but they only went onto electric light in WWII, the "back" bedroom was converted into a bathroom (and indoor plumbing put in, with a hot water supply of some sort).

In that house my grandparents brought up 10 children (6 boys and 4 girls), starting about 1870.

Danny.

Fareastdriver
21st Jul 2016, 20:02
they only went onto electric light in WWII,

Coor. We only had electric when we moved into a quarter at Aldergrove in 1949. I was nine and used to get my ears boxed for switching the lights on and off. The only electric socket in the kitchen had to have the plug in all the time in case the electricity leaked out.

Stanwell
21st Jul 2016, 23:01
Yes chaps, those posts brought back some memories.

For example, being sent down to the local Greengrocer's to get some pine-wood fruit packing cases to fuel the chip-heater to run a bath

It's funny how some old foibles still hang with my generation, though.
An old school-friend of mine, now interstate, who I visit from time to time (and now a multi-millionaire), has a thing about wasting electricity.
He would INSIST that a 15W globe illuminating the main stairway late at night be extinguished because it was 'wasting electricity'.
At the same time, he has a three-phase, 3000W pool heating and filtering system running out the back.

He's one of those people that feels the need to have a hot shower twice a day - but keeps them short because he doesn't want to waste water and electricity.

Hello?

He got his come-uppance one night a while back, though.
The poor chap came a cropper down that darkened stairway which laid him up for the better part of twelve months - during which time he had the opportunity to reflect on the wisdom of unthinking 1940s-style parsimony.
.

Walter603
22nd Jul 2016, 08:25
We three couldn't help chuckling to ourselves as we stole away into the darkness. We had plans to proceed southwards as fast as possible, maybe hitching a ride on a train if such were available. We hoped to reach Czecho-Slovakia, where we knew there would be partisans, as that was the shortest route to any country where we thought help would be available.

In retrospect, we were badly prepared. We had made-up civilian clothing of a fashion, no decent maps, and only a strong sense of direction to assist us. We quickly found that we had made a very bad omission. Our filled water-bottles, lying on the bunks next to us, had been left behind! We had nothing to drink, and after a few hours of marching in the pitch dark, we were very thirsty. An added problem for me was that I found myself limping very badly. My right foot hurt, and the pain was between my toes where I had stored the escape compass. As soon as possible I pulled off my boot and sock. There was the little metal housing of the compass, and there was the little compass needle sticking into my skin. There also was a nice collection of glass fragments from the compass casing, clinging to the sides of my toes! What a relief to get rid of them. We found that the compass worked fine without its top, but we had to be careful not to lose the needle.

We holed up shortly before dawn in a thicket well away from the roads, and spent a little time eating a meagre breakfast from our escape rations. Then we slept, passably well. When we awoke it had been raining. We were fortunate that our hidey-hole was quite well-protected and we were not very wet.

As night fell we moved off again, and were very relieved on finding the nearest road that it was tarmac and that puddles had formed on the uneven surface. We were able to slake our thirst by lying prone and sucking up water from the road. Very sweet it tasted, too!

We continued to make our way south, and found some old bottles in which we could store water, that we took from the side of a country house with an outside tap. However, we set the inmate's dog barking fiercely, and we hurriedly retreated before an alarm was raised. Soon we were crossing open country with water courses running through it. They were man-made, and appeared to be irrigation ditches which were quite wide. It was a dark night, and what we could see of the landscape was forbidding. The pockets of pine trees loomed through the darkness, and we were unable to find a bridge or any likely crossing point over the channel, which was about 7 or 8 feet wide.

We knew we would have to jump or wade across the channel, and we weren't sure how deep was the water. George examined the bank carefully on our side, and measured the distance by eye as well as he could in the darkness. He walked back some distance, while Fred and I watched keenly. Then George took a fast run at the bank and launched himself.

For a moment I thought he would make the opposite side, but one foot touched the water, and in a moment he was lying in three or four feet of water. Fred and I were most unkind, and collapsed with laughter. George waded, spluttering and swearing, to the far side. I decided discretion was in order, and having seen the depth of the water I waded in up to my middle, followed by Fred. We were now wet, but poor George was the wettest, having gone in full length.

It was now necessary to dry out somewhere, although brisk walking got rid of some of the excess moisture! We broke into a barn the following morning, just as the eastern sky was lightening, and buried ourselves in the plentiful hay we found, after having another frugal breakfast. Wet or not, I slept like a top.

Chugalug2
22nd Jul 2016, 09:08
Walter, well you've done it now! Other than leaving the water bottles behind (which was a bit careless!) you've made the break and are well on your way. Your only escape aid is the tiny compass, now minus its glass face, but you have done the right thing, move by night and lay up by day.

All this rather suggests a certain amount of training. Aircrew now (well, certainly in my day) do a certain amount of escape and evasion while in training. I too have been wet through while trying to evade capture by those pursuing us, in the Cairngorms in my case. The need to get dry again ASAP is paramount.

So what instruction had you? Do you think that was unique to Air Force personnel? You imply that the Army at least was in the main content to see the war out behind barbed wire. The great escape stories seem mainly to involve the air forces, though Colditz of course was a mixed bag. Was it just a question of numbers, or is there a cultural difference here?

Anyone with thoughts on the above? The aviators of course were operating over enemy territory, which meant they were on the run immediately they came down to it, as against those who were captured at sea or on the field of battle. Thanks to very brave people in occupied countries, some of those aviators were never captured and succeeded in getting back home to carry on the fight. Their escapes though tended to be "managed" by those who organised the various escape routes. The escapes that I query are following capture and mainly self managed. Why were the vast majority Air Force, or were they?

Wander00
22nd Jul 2016, 11:48
Brought up in the leafy suburbs of Eastcote (Middlesex) I was astonished when frequenting a b&b in Lincoln(not far from a well known teacher training college) in the 60s to find the only loo was a privy at the bottom of the garden

Danny42C
22nd Jul 2016, 12:33
Chugalug (#8925)
... The escapes that I query are following capture and mainly self managed. Why were the vast majority Air Force, or were they ?...
I believe they were. I think that aircrew (having survived a rigorous selection process) were more "adventurous" (not to blow my own trumpet, you understand) and readier to "think on their feet" for themselves.

Whereas your average "squaddie" had drilled into him that his basic duty was to obey orders. So now he simply carried on doing so - but from enemy officers and NCOs. It was for this reason that the Germans were careful to separate our officers from their troops - usually in different camps. That allowed them to concentrate their anti-escape measures on the officers, who were far more likely to give them trouble in that way.

All that is "off the top of my head", backed up by no experience, and open to be shot down ! I well remember incurring "Fredghh's" (RIP) censure by saying that "life in a Transit Camp must have been like being a POW - except that you could escape !" (he swiftly put me right).

Danny.

ian16th
22nd Jul 2016, 12:39
Do you think that was unique to Air Force personnel? You imply that the Army at least was in the main content to see the war out behind barbed wire. The great escape stories seem mainly to involve the air forces,I have memories of reading that to a soldier, the threat of being taken prisoner was a constant threat and if it happened it was mentally accepted.

With aircrew, in particular the Bomber Command crews, after every successful sortie they were 'at home', in their Mess and possibly down the local pub, even with the wife or girlfriend.

The enormous and sudden change from 'home life' to being a prisoner was so great that their brains didn't accept POW life as easily as the Army guys did.

In the case of RN POW's, they had often been 'rescued' by the ships crews that had sunk them, so they unconsciously felt grateful to the enemy.

Danny42C
22nd Jul 2016, 14:59
ian16th (#8927)
...In the case of RN POW's, they had often been 'rescued' by the ships crews that had sunk them, so they unconsciously felt grateful to the enemy....

The "Stockholm Syndrome ?"

D.

ian16th
22nd Jul 2016, 19:52
Danny

It was just a memory from something I read, a long time ago. It seemed relevant to the question of why aircrew made more escape attempts than others.

I can't even make a guess at what the source was.

Danny42C
22nd Jul 2016, 19:53
Walter (#8927),
...where I had stored the escape compass...
ISTR that another idea was to have a trouser (braces) button, metal exactly like all the rest on your uniform slacks, but magnetised and with a tiny luminous spot (on the back ?) to show N.

Perhaps the Germans had rumbled this trick by the time you fell into their hands, and so the RAF had a compass issue. Can think of other places to hide it - but we won't go into that ! :*

Can't remember what I had to go on ops with.

Danny.

Fareastdriver
22nd Jul 2016, 20:28
to a soldier, the threat of being taken prisoner was a constant threat and if it happened it was mentally accepted


You have to remember a soldier sees death at close hand. He may well look into the eyes of somebody and then kills him. He sees his friends or relatives torn apart by grenades or bombs.

Does he really want to escape and return to that?

Buster11
22nd Jul 2016, 20:48
After my mother received the initial printed card from Germany, on which new PoWs simply filled in their name, rank and service number, we started to get letters and letter cards from my father. All were, of course, censored both by the Germans and by the British before they arrived on our doormat. My father wrote all his letters from prison camp in pencil in a very neat upper-case script about 1.5mm high, and occasionally words or lines had been very thoroughly blocked out by a censor. A few months after he was captured we received a small bundle of his letters, accompanied by a note from the British censor saying that it was believed that my father was sending coded information, and asking if my mother could help. My godmother was staying with us at the time and the two of them puzzled over the letters for some time. She noticed that several of his letters mentioned that he was trying to change his writing and asked if we had noticed any change; eventually they found that if they sighted along each line of script an occasional letter was fractionally higher than the others and these larger letters formed the messages. I’m not aware that RAF officers at this period of the War had had any advice on simple codes to use in the event of capture, but I suspect that this was a personal initiative.
My father was in Oflag Xc, near Lübeck, then Oflag VIB at Warburg and Oflag XXIB at Schubin. From October 1942 until almost the end of the War he was in Stalag Luft III at Sagan, between Berlin and Wrocław, or Breslau as it then was known, before the post-War moving of the frontier put it out of Germany and into Poland. After a while some of his letters, all of which I still have, had references to the activities of “Mr. Delvet and his friends”; one told us that “50 of D.D’s students had failed their exams”. My parents were very keen on the countryside and wildlife and I was brought up on Beatrix Potter books among many others. My mother soon realised that these references were to a character in one of the Potter books, Diggory Delvet, who was a mole, and that my father was telling us of tunneling attempts, most of which were unsuccessful. In early 1943 he told us that “..some of Rainey’s old friends” had arrived, though segregated from the RAF compound and that a voluntary collection had been organised for them. “Rainey” was a friend of my parents who had communist leanings, and this told us that Soviet prisoners had arrived. He also wrote that it was true that they had snow on their boots; after the War we learned that those first Soviet prisoners had no shelter that winter and that the RAF prisoners had thrown food and clothing into their compound to try to keep them alive.
For a while after the unsuccessful Dieppe landing British PoWs were handcuffed, apparently in retaliation for the use of handcuffs on German prisoners by the Canadian troops bringing them back to the UK. They soon discovered that a simple modification to a sardine can key snapped them open.
One of his letters told us that he was doing five days solitary confinement in “the cooler” for being late on one of the morning parades at Oflag XX1B; so many had been late that it was not till he was in Stalag Luft 3 that he served his sentence, for there had been a long queue of ‘offenders’. He wrote that his mistake was to give his right name (“but don’t tell Buster11”); most of the others gave names like Crippen and M. Mouse and were never found when there became space for them to start their sentence.
My father organised art classes for prisoners and made a ‘samizdat’-type manual for students; he did posters for the many plays put on in the camp theatre, some of which the German staff attended, little suspecting the activities that took place under the stage. One of his letters mentioned that he’d been making papier maché masks for one of the plays and “for some of D.D’s activities”. Dummies were sometimes taken on the morning parades to hide the fact that there were fewer prisoners in camp than were counted the previous evening. Forging passes and documents and making fake German rubber stamps from shoe soles or sometimes as potato prints was another of his activities. He developed a technique of glazing the faked photos on passes by using repeated layers of saliva.
Throughout his time in prison camp he sketched and painted and he brought home numerous sketchbooks covering all sorts of camp activities. One wonders how he managed to take them with him on the winter forced march in early 1945, but they survived that; he also did a number of watercolour portraits of fellow PoWs, around A4 size and mounted, though this must have been done post-War. He made the mistake of lending some crayon and watercolour sketches of the camp to the makers of the film The Wooden Horse, based on the famous escape from Stalag Luft 3; none were ever returned. I leant some others to the authors of a book on another escape, Flak and Ferrets, to help their research, and unfortunately the thatched cottage where one of them lived burnt down before the book was finished and most of the remainder of the sketchbooks were lost. Luckily I had previously lent some to Charles Rollings, author of Wire and Worse, which deals with RAF PoWs till 1942, and he had photocopied some watercolours, which I have.

Danny42C
23rd Jul 2016, 10:06
Fareastdriver (your #8932),
...He may well look into the eyes of somebody and then kills him...
As Kipling put it: "Where is the sense of 'ating those / 'Oom you are paid to kill ?" (Notice how Kipling's rough soldier uses correct English grammar. To the day of his death, my father, educated to the age of 12 (?) in some Victorian Army Cantonment, wrote beautiful copperplate script which put my handwriting to shame).
...Does he really want to escape and return to that?...
ISTR that was irrelevant - it was your duty to escape if you could.

Danny.

Fareastdriver
23rd Jul 2016, 10:53
it was your duty to escape if you could.

Way back in 1944 Fritz, we used to call him, complete with grey clothes and Luftwaffe forage cap, would heave me on to the back of the farm horse and lead it around the field where I would watch him pitchforking hay into the cart. He lived in a room partitioned off in the barn with a tap and privy outside. Meals were taken with the rest of my Uncle's family.

He was there from 1943 to when they took him back in 1945. He wasn't the only one. There is a substantial number of Italian names in North East Scotland now as a result of Italian prisoners working the farms.

The Berlin Zoo had British POWs looking after the animals and there were many other examples of Allied POWs working in the agricultural sector.

Presumably all of them had undertaken(?) not to escape but how many saw this as a way to escape the dangers of war and the drudgery of a prisoner of war camp.

Danny42C
23rd Jul 2016, 11:47
Buster11 (#8933),
...censored both by the Germans and by the British...
Have mentioned this distasteful (but necessary) chore somewhere. The lads knew all about it, and kept their letters bland, but that didn't make it any more pleasant. Who censored my mail? Quis custodiet..? Don't know.
...upper-case script about 1.5mm high...
He would not normally do so. Presumably required by his captors as being easier to read. Same thing on Telegrams at home.
...but I suspect that this was a personal initiative...
And a good one too ! But he was pushing his luck in the questions about "noticing a change" in his handwriting" ! That should have alerted the German Censor, as it did the British. It is no credit to them that they had to enlist the aid of the two ladies to notice what should've been obvious to even a half-witted cryptographer.
...My father was in Oflag Xc, near Lübeck, then Oflag VIB at Warburg and Oflag XXIB at Schubin. From October 1942 until almost the end of the War he was in Stalag Luft III at Sagan,..
You've got me now ! Were there Oflags inside Stalags, as it were, or had all the RAF people been bundled together irrespective of rank ?
...the sketchbooks were lost. Luckily I had previously lent some to Charles Rollings, author of Wire and Worse, which deals with RAF PoWs till 1942, and he had photocopied some watercolours, which I have...
The film producers who did not return the material loaned to them in all good faith should be damned well ashamed of themselves ! All that, and the material you have, should be on permanent loan to the IWM, or the RAF Museum.

Your Father was "a man of many parts", and his war experiences would make a fascinating book in themselves.(Reflect: if you hadn't found us at this late stage, your story (and his) might have died with you (as has Fred's "six weeks dodging the Gestapo" died with him.

Rather an abrupt end - hope there's a lot more to come ! This is exactly what this Thread is "all about".

Danny.

Wander00
23rd Jul 2016, 13:04
Mention of Stalag Luft III reminds me that some years ago at a Yacht Club dinner the lady to my left told me in the course of conversation that her first husband had been one of the fifty officers murdered after the Great Escape. A year or so later a retired RAF chaplain, Ray Hubble, and I organised the wake of a naval aviator (and former Queen's Sailing Master) Lt Cdr Alastair Easton, who had also been incarcerated in Stalag Luft III. In the room were three other former occupants of Stalag Luft III. Talk about the hair standing up on the back of one's neck.

esa-aardvark
23rd Jul 2016, 13:11
Fareastdriver,
your #8935 reminded me that my Grandmother had several Italian POW's
billeted with her.
This was in Perthshire. They lived in a Bothy in the woods.
According to her they ate everything that moved, birds, rabbits...
I have no idea what their real rations would have been. Apparently escape
was not worried about.
Why they were placed with a civilian I have no idea.

Danny42C
23rd Jul 2016, 14:56
esa-aardvark,

Don't think they would just be "billeted on her" (in the same sense as the refugee families from the bombing in the towns). More likely working on the land nearby (did she have a farm ? as previous Posts describe).

Danny.

Buster11
23rd Jul 2016, 18:20
Danny. Your #8936.
As far as I know there was no German (or British for that matter) requirement to write in uppercase; certainly my mother's letters to him were in her normal handwriting as were mine, at the age of seven onwards, though a good deal less legible (and far less legible if I did the same now).

A spot of light Googling tells me that Stalag Luft III was initially for officers only ( not aircrew only, or my father wouldn't have been there), but later an NCOs compound was added.

Re-reading my post (again) my mention of his portraits of fellow PoWs was confusing; the portraits were done in the camps, but must sureoy have been mounted later, as I can't imagine he'd have taken several of them A4 board-mounted on the so-called Long March.

There's a bit more to come yet, but I'll be abroad till mid-August.

Danny42C
23rd Jul 2016, 18:25
Buster11 (#8936 again),

Suddenly reminded me of Sabena Captain Reg Levy DFC (RIP), in his gripping account of his high-jacking at Tel Aviv. The highjackers (two men and two women) were not fluent in English, which "regle" (as we knew him here) was using with the Tower. So every time he used the syllable "for" (eg "before", "information", etc), he stressed it, to advise that there were four attackers to be dealt with. Israeli Intelligence picked it up at once, and it was instrumental in the final success when the aircraft was stormed by an Israeli SAS group, which incidentally included two future Prime Ministers of Israel !

They shot the two men and a woman, captured the other woman, the passengers (which included Reg's wife) were released unharmed apart from one woman wounded.

Reg captained the 707 back to Brussels, a hero in Belgium and Israel, and acclaimed throughout the world.

I hesitated to put in this summary, but Reg's book: "Night Flak to High Jack" has been in the book shops for several months now - and in any event. PPRuNe readers in general (and members of this Forum in particular) are only a minuscule part of the book reading public. I have the Kindle version, well worth a read !

Nevertheless, if any of you (or the Moderators) think this infringes his copyright (which must lie with his Estate), tell me, and I will take it down at once !

Danny.

Buster11
24th Jul 2016, 19:28
Danny, you may be able to help me with something that's mystified me. I mentioned in an earlier post that my father sent home from Cairo in 1940 a silver-plated coffee table; it's about four feet diameter and came with folding legs. Later from Crete came a brilliantly patterned woven wool shepherd's shoulder bag, which I also still have. Was it usual for people serving overseas in the middle of a war to send quite bulky non-essential items like these back to the UK, at a time when I'd imagine space was needed for more important stuff?

On the other hand, I suppose most of the freight space was needed outwards from the UK, so maybe ships were returning largely empty.

Danny42C
24th Jul 2016, 20:57
Buster11,

Can't help much, Buster. When I set forth for 'furrin' parts in October 1942, I would think it impossible from India. Don't think Cairo either, but don't know the place.

Now in 1940, they may have still been in peacetime mode in Cairo, and (like most of the world at the time) expecting us to capitulate after Dunkirk. So, it may well have been "business as usual" there, (and always ready to earn an honest "akker" or two).

Hope the silver didn't come off the table at first polish, and they didn't find "Made in Birmingham" on the back !

Danny.

jeffb
25th Jul 2016, 03:30
It was common to have both Air Force and Army POW,s in the same camp, but they were segregated in different compounds. The Germans did regard the Air Force as most troublesome, so were separated where they could, with additional guards, keep a close eye on them. The AF used to do whatever they could to annoy the Germans, in a pastime called Goon baiting. Dad's favourite was to transfer the use of the guards rifle to Ashtray, Mobile, POW, For The Use Of. Every opportunity was taken advantage of; once the Germans did some drill to try to impress the prisoners. Instead the POW,s went behind them and dropped butts down the rifles. One guard in particular took exception to this practice, while naturally singled him out for addition attention. This did backfire once; they would distract him, then someone else would drop the butt in, but he wasn't distracted enough and noticed Dad doing his thing. The guard went to cock his rifle, but in his haste or anger slipped the bolt right out. By the time he got the bolt back in, everyone had wisely scattered.
In Luft 6 the army was very impressed by the Man of Confidence, F Sgt Dixie Deans, who often went toe to toe with the Commandant, more often that not making his point and getting the Germans to reconsider, much to the utter amazement of the Army types.
In the waning stages of the War, PoW were incarcerated wherever room could be found. An example was the camp at Falling Bostle; originally designed to house around 20,000 prisoners, it expanded, partially with hastily constructed compounds and partially with overcrowding, to in excess of 130,000 prisoners under appalling conditions at it's peak.
Jeff

Chugalug2
25th Jul 2016, 09:00
jeffb, many thanks for your informative post. As with everything these days, a brief search online reveals a site dedicated to the history of the Fallingbostel POW camps.

Stalag XIB / 357 - Fallingbostel Military Museum (http://fallingbostelmilitarymuseum.jimdo.com/stalag-xib-357/)

Interesting is this excerpt which underlines the different attitudes between British Army and RAF POWs to the duty of escape that Danny refers to. I suspect that this duty was instilled in RAF aircrew in their training, and certainly actively encouraged by the varied and imaginative escape aids with which they were equipped either prior to going on Ops or following capture. The latter had to be even more imaginative given that they had to be smuggled in Red Cross parcels disguised as everyday objects such as records or shaving brushes:-

Stalag 357 was a well run camp-although some tension existed between the British army pows and the RAF pows, as to the nature of activities within the camp. The RAF had an escape and intelligence committee that helped pows attempt to escape. It also supplied information to the allies on certain German activities. The army however was much more concerned with causing as little trouble as possible so arguments did ensure. Eventually a vote was held to decide on an overall policy and an overall head of operations, spokesman. The vote was carried overwhelmingly in favour of a RAF ;WARRANT OFFICER ;WO “JAMES “ DIXIE” DEANS who was to become 357s answer to RSM LORD.

OffshoreSLF
25th Jul 2016, 09:29
Found this in today's Dundee Courier. Thought you chaps might like to know.

DREVER - Deaths - Dundee Courier Announcements - Dundee Courier (http://dct.myfamilyannouncements.co.uk/dundee/view/4150824/drever)

Danny42C
25th Jul 2016, 09:32
Jeff,

This is interesting, as it begs a number of questions. First, overcrowded as they were, the Germans never seem to have "billeted them out" on local civilian families, as we seem to have done with the Italians in Perth (cf esa-aardvark's #8938).

Then it underlines Hitler's dilemma in the 1940 Blitzkrieg. With his armour driving hard to the Channel ports, he could not be bothered with the potential 300,000 POWs, whom he would have to guard, feed and house when they fell into his hands in a few day's time.

No problem: order Guderian to halt his Panzers for a day or so to enable this lot to get back across the Channel. There they would be Britain's headache - not his. Britain would now have to sue for terms, anyway. She was utterly defeated, everybody thought so (including the Chamberlain/Halifax Cabinet and the American ambassador - the patriarch of the Kennedy clan). There was one dissenter - but his voice counted - Churchill. The rest we all know.

"Dixie" Dean was a hero of my Liverpool youth (played for Everton - remembered there to this day). Couldn't possibly be the same man ?

The Wehrmacht seem to have got a bad bargain when that chap took the Führer's Reichmark. Tries to get an (imaginary, I hope) round up the spout, and pulls the ruddy bolt out of the rifle! I would not entrust him with a popgun, would you ? (hope they hadn't got live rounds - or bayonets !)

They gave me a pick-helve (handle), and told me to do my best with it.

Danny.

Stanwell
25th Jul 2016, 12:39
I loved jeffb's post where it made mention of the 'goon-baiting' that went on.
In particular, slipping 'bumpers' down their rifle muzzles.
The scriptwriters of 'Hogan's Heroes' couldn't have done better.

Stanwell
25th Jul 2016, 14:36
With the accommodation of the Mods, this might be a good time to draw 'Brevet' followers' attention to a current exhibition of aviation artworks
on show in London
The Guild of Aviation Artists are the people responsible and their website features images of hundreds of outstanding works of art, particularly RAF
historical depictions, many of which, I understand, are for sale.

Definitely worth a look.
I did spend a while on there without realising that I was drooling over my keypad.
I stress that I have no connection to that, commercial or otherwise.

Chugalug2
25th Jul 2016, 14:53
I'm not sure that Danny will be so enthralled by the GAVA site, Stanwell. I did a search for "Vengeance" which produced the only painting on offer, of a Mark IV! Good title though, "Vengeance is Mine"!

GAVA Gallery Search Results - Gallery Search (http://www.gava.org.uk/index.php?option=com_phocagallery&view=category&id=12&Itemid=534&picsearch=simple&searchterm=Vengeance&=Go)

Stanwell
25th Jul 2016, 15:17
Goodness me .. "No .. Not the Mk.IV!"
Personally, I thought that was one of the more striking images on the Gallery.

Danny42C
25th Jul 2016, 18:27
Stanwell and Chugalug,

Striking Image it may have been, and what I know about aircraft "portraiture" could be written with a whitewash brush on the back of a postage stamp, but I'm more attracted to realism (is there anyone who hasn't sighed in nostalgia over the "Lone Spitfire" ?)

Thanks, Chugalug, but have examined your kind offering with magnifying glass; it is rather an impressionist effort, and, frankly, I would not cough up a fiver for it (Philistine that I am), never mind £225 !

There is not a scrap of realism, there is almost no detail of the underside of the VV, the wing 250lb bombs are not shown yellow (although the 500 lbs in the bay are), there is little colour, scaling from the size of the fields below, it is far too low for a vertical dive, the fields themselves resemble a pleasant pastoral scene in the shires, not a jungle, and at no stage of the wing-over did we go beyond 90° of bank. It is of no merit, IMHO.

(Takes a draught of the 'Dark Waters of the Liffey' to regain equilibrium),

Danny.

Danny42C
25th Jul 2016, 19:00
It seems there are more than one pictures of the same title, this is the one I've got, and mine has the No.2 cropped out, and is on a copper sheet.


https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/57/dc/fd/57dcfd2417c836de245580bd167e1fee.jpg



Danny.

Stanwell
25th Jul 2016, 19:25
That's an all-time classic, that one, Danny.
I'm reminded of one time at school when I showed my art teacher a graphite pencil close-up rendering I'd done of a Mk.IX Spitfire.
It was rivet-accurate and even showed the strained expression on the pilot's face.
She said to me .. 'That's very nice, Stan - but where are the birds and the clouds?'

What do you say to that?
The answer .. Nothing really. I just walked away, muttering to myself, "Philistine".


Allow me to go on and bore you a bit further..
I'm presently completing a diorama, in 1/72 scale, of a busy WWII bush airstrip scene featuring a C-47 being loaded for a supply airdrop.
Hopefully, it'll be good enough to present to our local Air Force Club.

This particular aircraft was lost while airdropping urgently needed supplies to commandos in the mountains of New Guinea.
While I'm feeling fairly satisfied that I'd managed the camouflage, mud and dust aspects of it fairly well, the lady-friend came past and observed ..
"That's lovely, but it looks just a bit plain, Stan .. don't they have lots of tropical flowers in New Guinea?"
It was time to go open my bottle of Bundaberg Red Spot.
.

esa-aardvark
25th Jul 2016, 20:17
Danny (your #8947),
perhaps I should have mentioned that my Grandmother, and the rest of the family
lived on a large estate with lots of Bothy's woodlands, farmland etc.
So undoubtedly the POW's would have been working.
John

Danny42C
25th Jul 2016, 20:38
Stan (if I may be so bold),

'Tis true, 'tis true -you just can't help some people !

esa-aardvark,

Yup, that makes more sense. The authorities would give your grandmother an allowance for feeding them (I hope !)

Cheers, both,

Danny.

Chugalug2
25th Jul 2016, 21:39
Stanwell, like you I have looked long and hard through this collection. As Danny says it is a bit of a Curate's Egg, but if one ignores artistic merit somewhat (which I am not qualified to judge anyway) and simply goes for ones that capture a feat of memorable wartime aviation accomplishment, then numbers two and five take some beating in my view:-

GAVA Gallery Search Results - Gallery Search (http://www.gava.org.uk/index.php?option=com_phocagallery&view=category&id=12&Itemid=534&picsearch=simple&searchterm=Gliders&=Go)

outstanding airmanship I'd suggest.

Stanwell
25th Jul 2016, 22:52
Chugalug,
As that famous saying goes .. "I don't know much about art - but I know what I like".
By numbers 2 & 5, I assume you mean of the Horsa ones that you linked to.
The second of your choices, "Spot landing par excellence", frightens me.
I look at that and think .. "Oh no, .. This one's going to end up in tears..".

In quite a different category, one that caught my eye is titled .. "Close call".
Just as the returned Spit pilot is doing, it causes one to pause and reflect.

So many categories, so many subjects, styles and mediums .. How do you choose?
.

mmitch
26th Jul 2016, 07:13
As an aside to the posts referring to the Pegasus bridge attack and dioramas.
In the Parachute Regiment museum room at IWM Duxford there are the original planning models for most of the airborne assaults in Europe in WW2.
The Pegasus model has every hedge etc and now has the position of each of the gliders. One is several fields away, but then you realise that it is right near a smaller bridge on the same road.....
mmitch.

MPN11
26th Jul 2016, 07:48
Escape Kit ... my father showed me a couple of metal uniform buttons [of the plain persuasion, such as 'braces, for the attaching of', he had had in WW2. When one was placed on top of the other, there was a small dimple in the centre of the lower one that provided the pivot for the top [magnetised] button to stagger its way to pointing north. I'm not sure, but I think the 'needle' button also had a small dot of luminous paint at "N".

mmitch
26th Jul 2016, 08:55
Nice Forces TV report on a Czech pilot flying in a Spitfire at Biggin Hill.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UhxFoH4JQ7w
mmitch.

jeffb
26th Jul 2016, 15:32
Danny:
I cannot speak as to what training the Army types may have gotten for evasion or possible capture, I am sure they must have received some.
In Bomber Command, Dad did receive many lectures on evasion. Their superiors did not hide the horrific casualty rate ( one third of all crews would be captured) although they did 'massage' the aircraft losses a bit, as has been covered earlier.
Subsequently, they were given detailed instructions on how to blend in with the locals, modify their battledress to some degree to not be as conspicuous ( at least at night), and were issued a rudimentary evasion kit. This often consisted of a basic map of Europe printed on rice paper ( so could be eaten to hide it) and crude compass, and a few emergency rations. Some squadrons ran drills where crews were dropped off in civvies, no ID or money, 20 or so miles from base and told to find anyway they could back without being caught. I am not aware that Dad ever did that.
Lectures were given on a frequent basis, as were, naturally well attended and well received-they all knew the risks they were facing.
Jeff

Danny42C
26th Jul 2016, 15:43
This noble Thread can be likened to a volcano, which interrupts periods of relative quiet (when the stove in our cybercrewroom is "banked-down" and "exeunt omnes"), with periods of furious activity (rather like a war, in fact), in which your patient scribe is fair swept away in a flood of Posts, all of which are worthy of remark (and is this "craic" not what a Forum is for ?)

This is complicated by the fact that it has a stablemate Thread now, running very close, which has very strong connections to your Scribe, who has to share his time with this and others. I refer, of course, to "Wing Commander Gill OBE DFC". He (RIP) gained his RAF Pilot's Brevet even before WWII, and his gripping story is being told admirably to us by his son (NigG), as many of us know already.

I do not suggest that the Threads be merged - it is not for me to suggest it in any case - but I have to be careful to reply in strict chrononlgical order and Not Get Mixed Up (which has happened at times), and have devised a Wizard Scheme to that end.

Cut the cackle, Scribe, and get on with it !

.................................


Stanwell (#8949),

Thanks for introducing the subject of the GAVA site (and setting the Thread off on another of its wandering byways). But (as Chugalug reminds us): " We know nothing about Painting - but we know what we like !"
...I did spend a while on there without realising that I was drooling over my keypad...
Drool on, friend, it happens increasingly as the years mount up !

..................


Chugalug (#8950 and #8951),

As for the VV is concerned, I've given my opinion already !

Now the others:

1. "Thermal Hunters" - Gliders: I'm sure Stanwell would agree with me that this is a case where a soaring Eagle (or even a Vulture) would not be out of place in the picture !

2. "D-Day - Pegasus Bridge" reflects the extra hazards of glider ops - multiple pile-ups in the landing area ! Note the "bent" tree in the background - no guesses needed about what happened here. There was a TV of an anniversary celebration there some years ago, still remember the affecting picture of an old Paratroop Major (the leader ?) being pushed across the bridge in a wheelchair by his old driver on the day !

3. "High in the sunlit silence" - smooth gliders. At first glance, thought I was seeing the fabled "sky hooks" on the far glider - but they were just angled wingtips !

4. "Looking for Lift": Hard to tell altitude without scale - but if I were in the lower glider, I would be seriously worried - unless I was sure of "orographic lift" (wasn't it) pretty soon !

5. "Spot Landings par excellence". Again, the first glider couldn't have got closer - but the others were piling in behind. And there's no: "Give it the gun and go around !" now, Agree with Stanwell (#8958) - this is going to be a bit "hairy" soon (hope Hoskins gets the "round-up" right this time).
Rather liked it - till I saw the price !

Danny.

Warmtoast
26th Jul 2016, 16:22
jeffb

Re escape and evasion bits. Imperial War Museum shop sells cuff-links with a compass in them. Doubt whether they are the type used in WW2, as they are too obvious, but interesting nevertheless . See here: Compass cufflinks : Welcome to the Imperial War Museum Online Shop (http://www.iwmshop.org.uk/product/24964/Compass_cufflinks)

Meanwhile over on eBay there are a quantity of scarves etc on sale including a "Escape Map Silk Scarf WW2 World War 2 Official IWM military memorabilia". See here: http://www.ebay.co.uk/bhp/silk-map

DHfan
26th Jul 2016, 16:49
Danny, the September issue of Flypast arrived in the post today. It contains a 7 page article on Vengeances in India with a dozen or so photographs.
No idea if it directly covers your squadron or service of course, without going back and scouring vast chunks of this thread.

As you were at least there-ish it may be worth despatching a minion, or more likely, asking your daughter nicely, to acquire a copy.

Danny42C
26th Jul 2016, 17:46
DHFan,

Thank you for the steer ! (never heard of Fly Past)

Think the Monthly Digital Subscription might suit me. Will rattle piggy-bank.

Thought Vultee Vengeance long since dead and buried !

Danny.

Chugalug2
26th Jul 2016, 19:50
From the start of the war one organisation was responsible for instruction and supplying equipment for all UK Service Units likely to come into close contact with the enemy and hence face the possibility of capture, MI9. It was later also responsible for the interrogation of captured enemy personnel and for the dissemination of intelligence derived from both those and our own POWs.

The most prolific customer was the RAF, for reasons already discussed, to the extent that the basic MI9 training course for Instructors (Intelligence Officers in the RAF case) was known as the RAF Intelligence Course B. Early RN and Army resistance (mainly based on the supposed adverse effects on morale of stressing the possibility of capture) dissipated as the war went on, though RN D-Day personnel were excluded as it was assumed that the beaches to which they operated would be in Allied hands permanently!!

Allied Naval Commander Expeditionary Force in February 1944 directed that pre-capture training should NOT be given in general to Naval personnel training for operation "Overlord". His reason was that the time was limited and that, as R.N. and R.M. personnel would be operating off beaches already in our hands or to be occupied by our forces as a result of the operation, the possibility of their capture was a remote one. In actual fact, through the cooperation of G.O.C. Royal Marines, a large number of R.M. crews of minor landing craft were covered by M.I.9(d) before joining their vessels.

MI9 Historical Report - Arcre (http://www.arcre.com/archive/mi9/mi9history#mi9_09)

Fantome
26th Jul 2016, 20:00
Hornet's Nest
Hornet's Nest
(2016)
John Dimond GAvA
46 x 36 cm - Oil
£300.00

sorry I cannot seem to any longer be able to copy and paste the actual image,
like beforehand. I liked this one of a DH Hornet Moth in flight because the artist has depicted his subject so simply, so unadorned by superfluous effects.

when the dear old(?) Stanwell (well he did offer me a beer and a durry recently !)
says -
As that famous (trite ) saying goes .. "I don't know much about art - but I know what I like" I get ever so mildly riled . Because it is no great feat of imagination or application regarding this subject to work towards a greater understanding of artistic merit (as is the case with the serious study of poetry too) A book that opened my eyes I like to think to art appreciation was by the Hungarian emigre to Australia in 1939 Desiderius Orban . Dad years ago opened and ran a little art gallery in Canberra. Orban put on an exhibition and stayed with us for two weeks. He was a true character , quite unforgettable. He used to have a study and small art school in Sydney . Orban wrote a few books on art appreciation including 'What is art all about?'

Early on in the Second World War the highly esteemed official wartime artist Frank Wootton , painted a picture looking down on a Spitfire in flight over the Firth of Forth Bridge . That painting was used to make a colour plate in the early war publication for youngsters called OUR AIR FORCE. As with so many of Wooten's works it was a beautifully composed work of art. ( I treasued that book for many years.)

Chugalug2
26th Jul 2016, 20:23
mmitch, neither your link nor any UK media explained why and how the Brig. General in question attained such an august rank. It certainly wasn't in HM Forces where all such personnel scarcely made it to SO (the highest rank I recall was of a Polish Wing Commander). It transpires that he returned to Czechoslovakia in August 1945, in a Spitfire! Thus his last flight in one that he mentions, in December 1945, could have been there.

This piece speaks of shameful persecution after 1948. One can only imagine what that entailed, and was the very reason that most BoB pilots from Eastern Europe preferred to end their Service careers as JOs in the RAF. This is an amazing and brave man, though presumably he spent most of his career as a VSO within the Warsaw Pact. A pity that it wasn't thought appropriate to pad out the spiel in these sound bite pieces and tell us rather more!
Prague pays tribute to Czechoslovak RAF airmen | Ministry of Defence (http://www.army.cz/en/ministry-of-defence/newsroom/news/prague-pays-tribute-to-czechoslovak-raf-airmen-113338/)

Stanwell
26th Jul 2016, 22:25
Danny, - your #8963..
Eagles and Vultures .. We don't have Vultures down this way but, in their place, we do have plenty of Pelicans.
Eagles are generally fairly aware of what's going on around them, but, Pelicans ...

Seems that those silly birds get so 'high' on the rarified atmosphere on a good day that they don't feel the need to periodically 'check their six'.
I mean, what do they think they're doing? .. Hoping to catch a flying-fish or something?
Sharing the upper air with those clowns can be expensive - or worse.
But, once again, we digress ..
.

Danny42C
27th Jul 2016, 09:28
Stanwell,

Never realised that pelicans can fly for any distance ! (but then there'a lot I still don't know and it's a bit too late to start now !). They seem to be able to shuffle around slowly (like me), but they're wizard underwater (where the grub is). Makes no sense to fly high, where I would suppose them to be at risk from big raptors.

Such as a jumbo jet ! One of those into an intake, and it would do the engine no good at all ! What you chaps have to contend with - now it's a drone with my fortnight's groceries from Tesco as well !

Danny.

Danny42C
27th Jul 2016, 10:19
Anyone in earshot ?

Request help with two probs: can't get anything on Google Chrome, but Internet Explorer fine (I'm on it now). Is it Google Chrome - or me ?

How do I open a New Thread ? (done it once before, got onto FAQs, clicked "Open New Thread" button - damn' all happens. ???

Would be grateful, Danny.

1157 hrs. EDIT: Got Google Chrome back - 'twas me after all ! Second question still open. D.

1253 hrs. EDIT: All solved ! Stand down. D.

ScouseFlyer
27th Jul 2016, 11:11
Hi Danny
Go back a page to military aviation page ie one showing all threads and button top left or bottom left for "new thread"
SF

Chugalug2
27th Jul 2016, 11:15
Danny if you:-
clicked "Open New Thread" button - damn' all happens. ???

Were you still checked in? PPRuNe automatically logs you out if you haven't been active on site for some time, or indeed have restarted your browser. Just check in again and then press the button...

motohakone
27th Jul 2016, 11:30
Warmtoast, your photos of approaching Hong Kong are really impressing. We are a couple of enthusiasts who collect memories of old Hong Kong, mainly photos on the website Gwulo: Old Hong Kong | (http://gwulo.com/). I would like to upload some of yours to the website. If you agree files with higher resolution would be helpful. Also other photos in conncetion with Hong Kong would be welcome.
Regards, motohakone

Danny42C
27th Jul 2016, 11:47
ScouseFlyer,

Adopted your first suggestion, worked. Ta, wack !

Ex-Scouse.

.................

Chugalug,

Thank you for (as ever) guiding my faltering footsteps, but Scouse was easier, and I always was a lazy devil !

Cheers, both, Danny.

ScouseFlyer
27th Jul 2016, 13:36
Glad to help but you are never an ex spouse your always a scouse-that from one who has lived in "enemy territory" for almost 30 yrs!!
SF

Danny42C
27th Jul 2016, 15:16
'Scouse me, but am not an ex-spouse (yet) - ♫......We've been together now for 61 years, an' it don't seem a day too long......♫

Left Ullet Road (Seffie Park, L23) to come back to the Mob in '49, retired '72, Mrs D. Yorkshire lass, we live in what the Post Office says is Cleveland, but Mrs D. will have none of it: says we are in North Yorkshire, better not to argue !

Last saw Liverpool in about '73, couldn't find way about, will never see it again now.

Danny.

Warmtoast
27th Jul 2016, 20:48
motohakone
Warmtoast, your photos of approaching Hong Kong are really impressing. We are a couple of enthusiasts who collect memories of old Hong Kong, mainly photos on the website Gwulo: Old Hong Kong | (http://gwulo.com/). I would like to upload some of yours to the website. If you agree files with higher resolution would be helpful. Also other photos in connection with Hong Kong would be welcome.


Please send me your email address (by private message if necessary - box on top right of page), and I'll see what I can do.


WT

ian16th
27th Jul 2016, 22:19
Mrs D. Yorkshire lass, we live in what the Post Office says is Cleveland, but Mrs D. will have none of it: says we are in North Yorkshire, better not to argue !But you have a TS post code, and my birth certificate says North Riding :ok:

Stanwell
28th Jul 2016, 04:01
Danny,
Re the earlier mention of Eagles and Pelicans...
The pelican we nearly hit was at a tad over 10,000ft - gave us a bit of a fright, it did..

Being about the same size as our largest raptor, the Wedge-Tailed Eagle, which, incidentally, features on our RAAF badge (in place of the RAF '****e-hawk'),
they're not an item of prey.
Our Sea Eagles, a bit smaller but quite territorial, do give them a hard time, though.
I've watched some amazing dog-fights between them off our coast, here.

Having a wingspan of about 10 feet, they're excellent soarers and gliders but aren't really capable of sustained flapping flight - even though they can travel
1000 miles between feeding areas.
Being a bit like lazy old men, (as our women-folk would have it) they're into 'energy conservation' and travel by using one thermal after another.

As 'Dive Bombers', they're superb and I'd noticed that they'll use the same technique as you'd so well described earlier in this thread with the Vultee Vengeance.
That is, in a vertical dive, rotating about their longitudinal axis to achieve the required accuracy.
They don't often miss.

Next time, I'll tell you a couple of things about our RAAF icon, the Wedge-Tailed Eagle.

Walter603
28th Jul 2016, 05:57
As night fell on that second evening, we started to cross the open country once more. By sound from the railways and direction from the night sky, we made our way southwards again. We made good progress in the circumstances, and we stopped at regular intervals to check the compass bearing as well as we could in the darkness. Once we bumped into a couple of German railway workers who were inquisitive enough to question us. George told them that we were Frenchmen, but they tried to detain us, and we finally swung out wildly at them with our full rucksacks, and beat it as fast as we could.

Walking again throughout the night, we were feeling very tired by morning, and wanting to hole up somewhere. We approached the railway lines once more, and not far from a station we found some air raid shelters. They were well-built, with separate "wings" leading off the main corridor, each containing four or six bunk beds, without bedding. We crept along about halfway, and were very pleased to rest our weary legs. We slept very well, in fact. When I awoke at about 6.30 in the evening, I roused the other two and suggested it was about time we prepared to move. George felt very sluggish, and wanted to sleep some more. Although I was impatient, I waited for him to recover for some time. Eventually, I told him that we had to go - it was getting late for us to start our night trek.

We had just about got ourselves into order with all our clothes on, when we heard approaching footsteps along the dark concrete passageway, and before we could leave our little cell, we were confronted by two railwaymen, obviously supervisors, both with flashlights and both armed with revolvers. We tried to convince them we were French workers who had missed their train to their lodgings, but without success. We were made to go with them at the point of their guns, and were soon in the hands of the German Army again. We were locked up for the night in a small building used as a temporary prison, with plenty of guards outside. Every time we made some movement, there was a huge commotion, and the guard commander came in two or three times to threaten us that we would be shot if we dared to attempt any further escape!

Eventually, we were returned to our working camp, where the NCO in charge ("Unterfeldwebel") was in dire trouble for allowing us to escape. We were bullied, threatened, pushed around and generally manhandled, but not with any serious injury. The guards demanded to know how we had escaped, and who had helped us. We misled them very well with our prepared story, and they did not get any useful information.

The first direct result of our escapade was that all Red Cross parcels from that time were opened in front of all prisoners, before being issued, and every can of food was punctured with a bayonet, so that it could not be stored or hoarded for escape purposes. Tin cans in those days were not safe, and food contained in them would cause Ptomaine poisoning if left inside for more than a few days,

Danny42C
28th Jul 2016, 10:44
ian16th (your #8980),
...But you have a TS post code, and my birth certificate says North Riding...
It would - it was issued long before "Cleveland" was dreamed of, and things were simple. Everything North of the Tees was County Durham, and everything South was North Riding of York.

So when I was in Thornaby I was in Yorkshire, and when I had a five-minute ride over the bridge into Stockton, I was in Durham.

Caused some difficulty once, when one of our 608 (Auxiliary) Squadron, on Summer Camp at El Adem (?) was killed in a Vampire. The body was flown home to Thornaby, and taken to a hospital in Stockton. Fall-out: two Coroners in bitter demarkation dispute, with us as "Piggies-in-The-Middle".
...You have a TS post code...
True. But why won't bureaucrats leave us alone ? In my first years as a VATman up here, all the North York moors nearly down to Whitby were in our baileywick. In the summers it was a lovely job. My "clients" were mostly farmers, and they were straight out of "All Creatures Great and Small". (Incidentally, "James Herriot", was Alf Wight: on occasion, I took our little doggie to his surgery in Churchgate when we lived in Thirsk).

Farmers are normally "Repayment Traders" (ie they don't pay us - we pay them ! - except for the ones who'd specialised in the most lucrative and least laborious crop of all - renting space for overwintering "townie's" caravans). Consequently, we were made welcome, there would always be a strong cup of tea and home-baked scones with freshly made butter waiting on the farmhouse kitchen table for us.

Of course, we "knew the form": wear your oldest suit and old rugger stockings and always have a shovel and a pair of gumboots in the boot. When farm in sight, stop and put gumboots on - for you might have to go through fields, open and close gates, (curious cows spend a lot of time "marking time" at them), then park in farmyard and tread through an inch or two of liquid something to reach the door. Then gumboots off, and go padding on the cool stone floors like everybody else. Effusive greeting from muddy collie (once reassured that you are not an enemy).

Get file out of bag and start work.

What about the Bureaucrats ? Next time !

Danny.

FantomZorbin
28th Jul 2016, 11:34
RAF Watton (as was) has an Ipswich post code :ugh:

ian16th
28th Jul 2016, 12:52
It would - it was issued long before "Cleveland" was dreamed of, and things were simple. Part of the confusion is that Cleveland already existed!

It went from Redcar almost to Whitby on the coast, and of course inland to include the Cleveland Hills.

It was a parliamentary constituency for donkey's years.

Looking at this map (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-3711040/How-British-Genetic-study-reveals-Yorkshire-Anglo-Saxon-UK-East-Midlands-Scandinavian.html) the whole of Yorkshire has slipped a way down south since I went to school.

Danny42C
28th Jul 2016, 13:30
ian,

...It was a parliamentary constituency for donkey's years...

Never knew that ! Thought it was just a vague area - "The Cleveland Hills", for example. We have a "Redcar and Cleveland" constituency next door now (the other side of the railway line).

Plus ça change.........

Danny.

ian16th
28th Jul 2016, 15:27
1885–1974

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cleveland_(UK_Parliament_constituency)

Walter603
29th Jul 2016, 09:49
Life became more and more desperate and unhappy. We were made to work very long hours. Although natural inclination was not to put too much into the job anyway, the fact that we were on minimum rations and away from our barracks for twelve hours and more every day made us weak and tired. We all did our best I believe, to skimp the work as much as possible, but still we were made to do more than we ever wanted.

The work of railway maintenance continued around Annaburg and district. We hauled heavy rail lines, sleepers and other equipment, punched blue metal under the sleepers for many hours daily, and generally had a mean time working for the Third Reich!

The summer of 1944 in Germany was rather good as far as weather was concerned. We were kept abreast of the war news by friendly French workers who supplied us with information gleaned from illicit listening to the BBC and other foreign sources. I well remember working on a line quite close to a big town somewhere, when after an excited whispered conversation with a Frenchman, George announced to us all that the Allied invasion had started. It was 6th June of course, and we knew of the event within hours of its commencement.

The next day, I was suddenly grabbed by a guard as we were about to leave our barracks, and carted off to the local lock-up. Without trial or confrontation I had been given seven days bread and water for my escape attempt. I was the first of our trio to be punished. In truth, it was quite a rest for me. I was in the village jail, with a hard wooden platform for a bed, one blanket, bread and water for food and the company of one book which I had smuggled into my small pack of clothing. The book was a Red Cross issue, Charles Dickens’ “Great Expectations”, and it is still one of my favourite stories. In return for cutting up a great pile of firewood logs for the jail-keeper one day, I was given a bowl of hot soup.

On 12th July 1944, there was an assassination attempt on Hitler. At a high level military gathering, a bomb was planted under the planning table where maps and tactics were being studied. Hitler escaped with minor injuries, and a remorseless hunt started for the plotters. Several high ranking officers were involved, and a terrible vengeance was exacted on those arrested. General Erwin Rommel, the “Desert Fox” was implicated, but because he was such a popular public figure he was persuaded to commit suicide. (This story is well documented, and I won’t expand upon it).

As a “thanksgiving” for the Fuehrer’s escape from death it was decreed that all workers would increase their output to 12 hours daily. This included poor bloody prisoners, of course, and by that time we had been moved to new accommodation in a village about 10 miles from our original prison compound. We were billetted in an old dance hall attached to a public house, of all places! Strange though it sounds, that hall became our home for the next several months. It was thoroughly secured and guarded. We didn’t see much of it, however. The new decree meant that we were “roused” about 5a.m., and after a quick wash and a frugal breakfast we were marched to work, arriving at 6a.m. to start our 12- hour stint. A brief break for a midday meal was allowed, but there was very little for us yo eat.We were always extremely grateful for the Red Cross parcels, for without them we would have starved.

During our stay in the new billets in August 1944, I had a letter from home (purportedly sent to me by my mother as a “nephew” because of my changed identity) telling me that “my cousin” (that was me) had been commissioned in the Royal Air Force on 27.10.43 as a Pilot Officer, and that he had been promoted to Flying Officer on 27.4.44. Well, that was good news and helped to make the day’s task much lighter, for a change. I was even able to celebrate, because the inn-keeper was not averse to selling us a glass of the local brew, through a hatchway in the wall, on the rare occasions after we had received a meagre PoW payment of German money from the railway contractors.

In due course we returned to our old camp at Annaburg. George, Fred and I were put onto "coaling". This entailed unloading coal briquettes from laden railway wagons in a siding. We were given long handled shovels, large clumsy tools to my eye, and we spent many hours shovelling out of the truck on to the ground in the siding. It was unpleasant work. We were smothered in coal dust; it was in our eyes and ears, up our noses and in our mouths. All the time we were under the watchful eye of either the “postern” (the soldier set to guard us) or of the civilian railway employee in charge.

From time to time, we were called out on emergency work to some distant town or city that had been bombed, to fill in craters in the railway yards, repair the lines, and generally help the German war effort to keep on the move. It annoyed us profoundly that we were made to do such work, but apart from protesting there was little we could do about it. Several of us tried to be more positive on one occasion, when we stood around a half-repaired line at a scene of dereliction caused by Allied bombing and refused to pick up our tools and work. Soldiers were quickly called to surround us. The officer in charge told us in no uncertain terms that we would be shot if we did not obey. We didn’t move. He gave orders to the soldiers, they levelled their rifles at us, and he began to count loudly. We quickly got on with the job!

Danny42C
29th Jul 2016, 13:08
ian16th (as promised - I'm trying the Moderators' infinite patience - this is the end of this !)

Those were the halcyon days. Going out on a sunny morning in plenty of time for my appointment (for "Punctuality is the Politeness of Princes"), I would often stop on a moorland road, get out and enjoy the solitude for a few moments. There would be absolute silence, broken only by birdsong and the gentle bleating of sheep. Not another human being in sight from horizon to horizon. From a village in the valleys wisps of smoke might drift up from a farm or cottage chimney. Far to the East were occasional glimpses of the sea. ("Where every prospect pleases, and only man is vile" - have I got it right?)

It was just possible to be out of sight of Fylingdales, and Danby Beacon (the "Chain Home" towers) had been there so long that they were part of the landscape. Then on to find my farm. No easy matter, sometimes. Of course I'd done my best to get full instructions over the phone, but they were of the nature of "Go on through village, turn right by church, go down t'lane till Black Bull, turn left and go up hill. Tha can't miss us lad".

Oh yes, lad could. But I always found the farm in good time and was welcomed as before. (Noted position of "Black Bull", as would probably be "doing" that next month). Then I could often put a smile on the weatherbeaten old face before me. Farmer often has to buy expensive machinery (say £36,000 Combine). Yorkshiremen hold on to t'brass. It would be on finance.

But the "supply" had taken place: he was the owner in law, and entitled to treat as "Input Tax" (and recover from us) all the VAT on the whole price (£6,000 at current rates), notwithstanding that it formed only a small element in his monthly repayments. (At the same time we would "do" the supplier for the whole £6,000, so it balanced). What arrangements supplier, farmer and moneylender had made between themselves was none of our business. (If the Revenue had to wait till money changed hands before it got its share, it might have to wait a very long time ! So we don't do it). I would get strawberry jam on my scone that day.

I always recorded on file the exact 6-figure Grid reference of the farmhouse, and told the farmer's wife to put away a note of it carefully. Who knows ? One future winter, the place is nine feet deep in snow, nothing can get to it by road, there is a medical emergency at that farm. But the phones are still working....The rescue helicopter is on its way, but where is the farm ? "Black Bull" is just a hillock in the snow. But farmer's wife remembers, little scrap of paper is fished out, the vital six figures passed to the chopper, the day is saved ! VATman/BATman hero of the day, appears on BBC "Look North" (well I can dream, can't I ?) Of course, the reference was for our own use. One day I, or somebody like me, would need to go back up there.

Two or three years later, all turned to ashes. Some busybody in Whitehall, with not enough to do, noted that all the N.Yorks farms were on YO post codes. But Middlesbrough VAT Office was on TS. Shock, horror. They should be in York's purview. York had a VAT sub-office at Scarborough. Transfer all the files to Scarborough. I would be up on the moors no more. No matter that Middlesbrough had better and quicker access to the area from the North than Scarborough had from the South, and we could service the North York moors far more efficiently. Whitehall had spoken - tremble and obey.

I hope the Scarborough VATmen/women found my Grid Refs useful.

Danny.

Danny42C
29th Jul 2016, 14:34
ian, (#8987),

Thanks for useful link:
...DNA testing has also revealed how the people of Yorkshire are officially the most British people in the land, with their genetic makeup containing an average 41 per cent Anglo-Saxon stock...
Much input from the Vikings (as you know, York was a Viking settlement). They were over here a thousand years ago, sacking, burning, pillaging and raping (did the local blood stock no end of good). All place names ending "-by" are witness to their spread.
...while the people of Wales have the highest proportion of ancestry from Spain and Portugal...
We have the Spanish Armada to thank for this !
...the Armada was disrupted during severe storms in the North Atlantic and a large number of the vessels were wrecked on the coasts of Scotland and Ireland...Wiki]
With a West-facing coastline, I would think Wales got its share. The survivors struggled ashore, same long term result as before!

Danny.

Danny42C
29th Jul 2016, 15:10
Walter,
...(that was me) had been commissioned in the Royal Air Force on 27.10.43 as a Pilot Officer, and that he had been promoted to Flying Officer on 27.4.44...
and
...It annoyed us profoundly that we were made to do such work, but apart from protesting there was little we could do about it...
Bit confused now - were you still in your Irish persona, or had they rumbled you and knew who you really were ? And if so, was there any way in which the Germans could be officially advised of your changed status (say by Red Cross ?).

ISTR that officers cannot be made to work, and should be transferred to an Oflag - but how did that work in practice ? And in any case, you would not want to be parted from your friends. But think of the nice little nest-egg piling up for you in some British bank !

Danny.

Danny42C
29th Jul 2016, 17:56
Walter (further to my last),
...after we had received a meagre PoW payment of German money from the railway contractor...
Fredghh (RIP) had to pay for being "shorn to the bone" when they captured him. Did you have to pay for your haircuts ?

Did POWs receive any "pocket money" (which supposedly was charged back to the British Government after the war, and offset against accumulated pay ? You heard strange stories when the POWs came home after "V" Day.
... scene of dereliction caused by Allied bombing...
Even though it made more work for you, it must have been a morale-booster for the POWs !

Danny.

ScouseFlyer
29th Jul 2016, 19:04
Hi Danny

Oh dear hadn't noticed the spouse for scouse error!
I'm an Aigburth lad myself so know Seffie Park very well. My better half hails from Manchester so for the past 40yrs quite literally I've been sleeping with the enemy plus having two sons supporting Liverpool and two supporting Man Utd-very complicated!
SF

Danny42C
29th Jul 2016, 20:44
Scouse Flyer,

Luckily Mrs D. doesn't read PPRuNe ! (think nothing of it).

Liverpool was never the same since they got rid of the trams ("Green Goddesses" - four wheelers in the old days), and cleaned the Liver Building !
... having two sons supporting Liverpool and two supporting Man Utd-very complicated!... :uhoh:
Take to the hills on big match days ! :ok:

Danny.

Walter603
30th Jul 2016, 06:28
Danny42C
Your 8991-92. I had no intention to let the Goons know that I had a false ID.
As to "pay" and "pocket money", to the best of my knowledge there was none for all those insiders of Stalags and Offlags. My 3 or 4 months when in IVB I don't remember any payments whatever. As working PoWs, we were paid small amounts at irregular intervals, never more that 10 to 15 Marks and I don't know how much it was worth in shillings and pence.
Haircuts were few and far apart. In our "working lager" there was an obliging barber who obliged and was paid with cigarettes, either from home parcels or from dreadful Polish fags that came to us from Red Cross.
I was certainly pleased with my RAF pay sitting in a bank account when I got home.
Walter.

Danny42C
30th Jul 2016, 08:18
Walter603,
...10 to 15 Marks and I don't know how much it was worth in shillings and pence...
As these would be Reichmarks, I don't suppose they were convertible currency during the war ! (I understand the Germans had managed to print millions of very good forgeries of the old white £5 and £10 notes; these they hoped to put into circulation in neutral countries, with a view to ruining the Bank of England). There is supposed to be a giant cache of these notes in sealed containers at the bottom of some Austrian lake to this day.

Danny.

Fareastdriver
30th Jul 2016, 08:29
My grandfather used to get those at his grocery shop after the war. In those days they were so rare that recipients would insist that one would write their name and sign it before handing it over.

There were loads signed by Hitler, Goering, Himmler etc.al.

Chugalug2
30th Jul 2016, 08:50
Walter:-
I had no intention to let the Goons know that I had a false ID.

Like Danny, it struck me that in assuming the role of a soldier, and so able to take advantage of the opportunities to escape in the outside world of work-parties (as against the caged inside world of an RAF officer), you had condemned yourself to a life of gruelling physical toil. Your alter ego meanwhile led a life of ease and comfort (well, perhaps not so much of the latter). Just as your new friends didn't betray you to the Germans, so presumably neither did his. Which leads me to wonder how widespread a phenomena was this? It certainly seems to have been picked up quickly back home, making the pair of you "cousins"! I certainly can't recall any such ID swapping in the multitude of POW stories that I soaked up in the '50s. Of course, it needed the brief and exceptional opportunity that you so readily seized when it presented itself, and it certainly seems to have been an excellent means of subverting the German bureaucracy that concentrated on securing RAF aircrew to the utmost whilst also exploiting to the full the labour of British ORs. Let's hope that you soon see another chance to exploit it further...

Fareastdriver
30th Jul 2016, 09:27
Your other half did very well, being promoted from a common soldier to Flying Officer in a couple of months.

Wander00
30th Jul 2016, 09:49
Those fake notes at the bottom of the lake - no Spitfires with them then...................

MPN11
30th Jul 2016, 09:54
Ah, the white Fiver. Now that was real money, not like that technicolour European 'Monopoly' stuff :)