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View Full Version : Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II


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henry crun
1st Aug 2009, 08:47
Goosequill; Posting pics, follow the instructions here http://www.pprune.org/spectators-balcony-spotters-corner/203481-image-posting-pprune-guide.html

regle
1st Aug 2009, 09:25
I am pretty sure that I wrote a lot about Blenheims in my much earlier threads . I went to 17 OTU Upwood and have already described the days there where I flew Blenheim IV's with ,for no known reason, night flying on the shortnosed Blenheim 1. I was then posted to 105 Squadron at Horsham St. Faith who had Blenheims and I , once again, briefly, flew the Bisley which was probably the ugliest and worst aircraft I ever flew...I never flew the Botha ! The Bisley was a Blenheim IV with the turret removed but with no attempt to streamline the resulting gap ...just a [___] with the vertical line at each end rejoining the fuselage. If you could get into the cockpit of the Blenheim without breaking a limb you were lucky. You had to climb from the wing....Don't ask me how you got on the wing...to a hatch on the top of the fuselage and lower yourself, complete with seat parachute in to the Cockpit. Once there your troubles really began as there was no attempt at instrument coordination and the placing of the instruments varied from machine to machine. Even operating the U/C lever could gash your hand if you weren't careful.
The two pitch propellors had their control levers positioned in a niche behind the pilot's left so that, after takeoff, to change the pitch you had to reach blindly behind with your left hand and pull the pitch control lever. As the two fuel tank shut off levers were just underneath the pitch controls and identical in feel and shape you can imagine the frequent results .
I can't remember getting much over 200 m.p.h. in a Blenheim but ,Thank God, we were just getting delivery of the first Mosquito Mk IV and I never operated on Blenheims and I know that i would not be writing this now if I had. My cap goes off to all the brave men that flew the Blenheim on the suicidal daylight, low level, shipping strikes and such.. Bill Edrich, the England Cricketer was one of the men that I met and a Blenheim pilot who survived. Does that answer you Goose Quill ? As you might have guessed, I have no fond memories of that aircraft. Regle.

Fubaar
2nd Aug 2009, 04:39
Isn't some group currently doing a re-build of a Blenheim? From what regele has said in his last post, it will be an interesting first flight for them if they get it to an airworthy state. Reading regel's description of what was involved in just flying such a machine (forget actually operating one in a combat environment!) gives a whole new understanding of what a steep learning curve it must have been for the (mostly very low time) crews of that had to operate those aeroplanes in a totally unforgiving environment, and why the RAF lost more crews to training accidents during WW2 than they did to enemy action.

green granite
2nd Aug 2009, 07:03
Isn't some group currently doing a re-build of a Blenheim?

I believe there's one being rebuilt at Duxford photo at: blenheim rebuild pkdscf0091 pictures from aviation photos on webshots (http://rides.webshots.com/photo/2248532850035970728bcjSVJ)

regle
2nd Aug 2009, 09:46
The Blenheim Society a few years ago patiently and expensively rebuilt a genuine Blenheim Mk IV (I think )and then entrusted the machine to an unfortunate and nameless Airline Pilot to Air Test and who wrote it off immediately. I saw something fairly recently in an Aeroplane Magazine to the effect that they are trying again. Do not jump to hasty conclusions. I wouldn't go near a Blenheim if I could help it. Regle

aw ditor
2nd Aug 2009, 10:24
For info. on the current Blenheim restoration, see the Aircraft Restoration Company (Duxford) website.

Icare9
2nd Aug 2009, 10:27
Regle (or regele or regel.. try again Fubaar!!!) You are quite correct about the rebuilt Blenheim, didn't last long before it was in pieces again. Heart breaking for those involved in the restoration, but ll credit, they went and started all over again....
I'd always thought the Blenheim had been lauded as superior to any fighter (like the Mossie, but 1933 performance nothing like 1940 capabilities, I suppose. I'm just astonished that it went into full scale production with such poor control layout. No wonder a lot of BC veterans volunteered for front line service rather than risk their lives in HCU training!!!! The enemy you know is trying to kill you, rather than "green" crews who might succeed!
Also, it's now reached over a 1,000 postings, really remarkable tribute to Cliff and others who have made this thread come alive. :ok:

regle
2nd Aug 2009, 18:33
The Blenheim was a pre war private venture from Bristols,known as "Britain First" and the prototype had a much better performance than the production version after the various departments had added turret, guns, higher bomb loads etc.
The understanding for the need of standardisation of the placing of instruments had not yet arisen as the demands for skill in night flying were virtually non existent and it would be a long time before it came into being. The idea of the daylight flying ,medium bomber was still that formation and gun turrets would be the answer to the fighter menace and it took disatrous casualties before the higher ups reacted to the practical advice that was coming from the people that were actually trying to do the job and paying dearly for the mistakes made in strategy. The Mosquito was a revelation and must be one of the top contestants for one of the finest and most versatile aircraft of the war. Once again it was the designers and makers of this aircraft that took all the risks and went ahead against the refusals of Government to back the project...just as it had taken the backing of a Lady to enable Britain to go ahead and win the Schneider Trophy and pave the way for the Spitfire to play such a part in the destiny of this country. Note that I say "play a part " as the Hurricane shot down more enemy fighters than the Spitfire and was the preferred mount of the majority of it's pilots just as the Halifax was the workhorse of Bomber Command and the Lancaster had to have a terrible start as an underpowered Manchester before emerging as the aircraft that it became. Those pilots who flew both, knew which one gave the crew the best chance of survival and it wasn't the Lancaster.

I think that it is our destiny to have the finest men doing the fighting despite the terrible mistakes of the ones sitting at the top.... The First World War criticism of the British by one of their powerful enemies ( I can't remember who but it might have been Bismarck ) "Lions led by Donkeys". It was ever thus. Regle,..... but I don't mind Reg !

kevmusic
2nd Aug 2009, 21:07
Regle, that post was as beautifully a succicnt summation of WW2 British air defence and offence as ever I have seen.

As regards the survivability of Lancaster crews: one American historian, in "Courage and Air Warfare" (Mark Wells) described the designer of the Lanc's escape provision as "criminally responsible".

Blacksheep
3rd Aug 2009, 07:27
I used to land on an Island in the Gulf called Masirah Pronounced "Misery".

A chap on our squadron once got into a punch-up with a corporal clerk from Gen Office who had workied at PMC Innsworth and still had mates there. Within a week he was on PWRs and the following week received his posting - 18 months in Misery.

mustpost
3rd Aug 2009, 08:29
There is also a Bolingbroke being restored (display)at the Museum of Flight East Fortune,Scotland. I will try and post a pic or two

regle
3rd Aug 2009, 14:17
Apropos the Blenheim losses; A squadron of 12 Blenheims based in England but probably operating from France , May 17th.1940, lost 11 of the 12 to German Fighters. I do not remember any of the details but I am sure that it can be easily found. Regle

Goosequill
3rd Aug 2009, 22:21
Thank you, Henry, I shall study and have a go!

Cheers,

Dave

Goosequill
3rd Aug 2009, 22:25
Hi Reg,

Thanks for that nice summary - I must have come along after you first posted on the Blenheim, so thanks very much - and I think I'll also back track a bit and see if I can pick up your earlier posts.

It was the bees knees pre-war - amazing how real hostilities sort out the myths from reality...

Thanks again.

Cheers,

Dave

Blacksheep
4th Aug 2009, 08:34
The Winjeel...

http://www.sabc.org.au/All/Photos/Aircraft/Winjeel.jpg


and the Wirraway...


http://www.diggerhistory.info/images/ww2-pacific/2wirraway.jpg
The image is Crown Copyright and is found at the Digger History (http://www.diggerhistory.info/pages-air-support/ww2-allied/wirraway.htm) website.

I was doubtful about the claim of its use in combat but it really is true!

The one on the left is flown by Pilot Officer (PO) J. S. Archer who leapt out and claimed a Zero. The claim was confirmed when the wreckage was found and Archer was later awarded the DFC for his exploit.

regle
4th Aug 2009, 09:40
Start around page 13 onwards if you have the patience, Reg

Goosequill
5th Aug 2009, 05:18
Hi Reg,

Thanks very much for taking the time to find the pointer - I'll take a peep!

Cheers,

Dave

Goosequill
5th Aug 2009, 05:45
Hi Henry, and other Winjeel admirers,

Here goes:

http://www.cairdpublications.com/scrap/Trainers/images/Winjeel.jpg

Yippee!

That nice pic from Blacksheep shows how good it looked with the panels on. (Did the blonde get included as standard fit?)

Cheers,

Dave

Goosequill
5th Aug 2009, 07:39
Hi Cliff, Reg,

An odd question for you - if it has stuck in the mind after all these years...

I stumbled across a bit of detail on runway lighting, and discovered that the Mark II runway light was only powered by a 15 watt pygmy bulb. There were two of these inside the 'turtle', one for each direction so pilots would not land the wrong way at night, and shining out through a rather small aperture. Made me wonder, were these puny lamps visible when overhead or downwind, or did they only get revealed in their full glory at funnels?

Ta!

Cheers,

Dave

cliffnemo
5th Aug 2009, 16:47
STOP PRESS !! .BROADBAND CHANGEOVER DATE NOW AUGUST THE TWELFTH . (PHEW)


GOOSEQUILL, Follow Henry’s advice but If you check post 931 you will find a scan of a photo bucket page, it may help. Sorry , I can’t answer your question on fifteen watt pygmy bulbs, probably passing too quickly at the time. Can remember the Drem system, with quite bright blue lights. I thought the system was O.K.


I have just found my release book, so thought I would scan a few of the pages before I lose it again. It may be of interest to some historians. I note that my final pay was nineteen and three pence per day on demob, as a war substantive rank warrant officer , but demobbed as sergeant (A.C 1), The A.C 1 refers to my rank as an equipment assistant. When the war finished , and awaiting demob, most of us had to take a trade course, we were not very enthusiastic, hence the A.C 1 ,rather than the L.A.C rank I would have achieved if I had been enthusiastic.` I was posted to R.A.F Catterick for psychological tests, to decide what trade I should take, this included tests to see if I could put round pegs into round holes and square pegs into square holes, etc. It was decided I was more suited to a clerical job rather than a mechanical job. This was despite the fact that prior to enlisting I was an apprentice plant fitter working on building and civil engineering plant, and vehicles.
REG will note I was demobbed at Kirkham, a place he will know well as it is not far from Blackpool, Remember the Astra cinema Reg on the Blackpool/ Kirkham road., and the regular showing of ’The Thirty Nine Steps’ in glorious black and white. With Robert Donat starring ? Think \I saw it at virtually every station I was on.
http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/RELEASEBOOK1247.jpg
http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/RB5251.jpg
http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/RB2248.jpg
http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/RB4250.jpg
http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/RB3249.jpg




After completing. training at Bottesford , our crew were posted to 150 Sqdn Hemswell. The rest of the crew traveled by train, but as I still had my trusty Norton with me, I entrusted my kit bags to the crew and travelled by road. We were pleasantly surprised by the comfortable quarters , bathrooms and showers being in the same building as our rooms. This was due to the fact that it was a pre-war station with all quarters permanent brick built buildings. The mess was first class, food was good, and surprise surprise large bowls of vitamin tablets on all the mess tables.
The first thing we learnt was that there was a compound behind the guardroom full of old bikes, mainly ‘sit up and beg’ types. . Some were scrap R.A.F bikes but some were ‘civvy’ bikes, and we were told by the old hands ,that we should collect a bike and spares and build a bike for our personal use.
The usual hole in the compound fence was at the rear of the guard room and somehow no one in the guard room ever seemed to notice the frequent visits made by future cyclists Rumour had it that the ‘civny’ bikes had been borrowed from nearby Gainsboro.. Evidently it was the habit of certain airman having missed the liberty bus, to borrow a bike and on return ,leave it outside the guard room. The following morning any bikes left outside were returned to the Gainsboro police, who returned them to their owners. Bikes not claimed were returned to the compound . If you have seen the video Night Bomber , you will have noticed the large number of bikes at Hemswell.

The first month we practiced high level bombing and cross country flights one was by day, and another by night of over four hours duration. Numerous other flights and one ‘Air to sea firing’ which was carried out at Alkborough, near Cleethorpes. The target was a float offshore in the North Sea. With the Lanc at about fifty feet the Bomb Aimer, Mid upper, and Rear Gunner, firied at the target as we passed the float.

'Ecky thump' better post this before it disappears

regle
5th Aug 2009, 18:31
Cliff, I too was demobbed at Kirkham and could (almost) walk home to Blackpool but I don't remember the Astra on the way...were'nt they all called "Astra" ? For me the film that I never saw the ending of was "Night train to Munich" showing when I was cleaning the bogs in the Sgts Mess at Bicester as an AC2 GD in November 1940 when nearby Coventry was being clobbered. The Sirens would go and in the end we all gave up in disgust. Goosequill, Re your light problem ; have a look at your PM's, Reg.

cliffnemo
6th Aug 2009, 10:11
Yes Reg , there were a few Astra Cinemas in various counties, and these were operated by the R.A.F. The cinema near Blackpool, was on the left hand side on the Kirkham/Blackpool road. A white concrete building near the entrance to Wharton airfield. The words Wharton always reminds me of the Flying Fortress trying to land at Wharton but crash landing on Freckleton school, killing some children and staff. I think the Americans had the school rebuilt and provided a memorial garden. ?

Although my release book is stamped Kirkham . I think I was billeted at Wharton

regle
6th Aug 2009, 10:26
Yes Cliff, I remember it well and was going to ask you if you remembered. It was a terrible accident and hit the little commmunity very hard. The Americans were magnificent in their behaviour and Wharton will never forget. Reg

regle
6th Aug 2009, 10:38
Thank you for the kind remarks.. I just do not remember anything about the Turtle light but I cannot remember anyone landing the wrong way either...I suppose that you might call it "Turning Turtle". ! All the best , Reg

Fareastdriver
6th Aug 2009, 18:29
Sometime in the fifties some bright spark used the principle and design of the runway/taxiway light to design and patent the now universal cats-eyes. The big difference being, and this is where the bright spark bit comes in, was that the cats-eye had a collapsible rubber centre.

Goosequill
6th Aug 2009, 19:50
You can get the full story of Percy Shaw (1935) if you google him, or indeed 'cat's eyes'. The brilliant bit was the fact that the rubber top deformed when run over, and any rainwater in the cavity was squeezed out past the glass beads, thus making them self-cleaning. When I was kid, we used to try to get unwary friends to stamp on the rubber pad after rain just to see the water shoot up their legs - 10 point bonus for girls...

These modern replacements are no fun...

Molemot
11th Aug 2009, 18:07
Just to get this magnificent tour de force back on the front page where it belongs....

Goosequill
12th Aug 2009, 05:47
Hi Cliff and Reg,

I wondered if I could ask your opinion of the oxygen systems you experienced in the Lancaster. I understand it was pretty basic - just a bunch of cylinders under the rest station, and no clever processing of the gas - how did it feel to actually breathe it? Was it cold, dry, etc? Did you find it any effort to take a breath or was the system pretty well balanced?

I'd be most interested to hear about anything that comes to mind.

Thanks,

Dave

Molemot: we had sunshine at the weekend - I was just as stunned as the other respondents...

regle
12th Aug 2009, 10:14
Or fill the walls etc... Around March 1952 an advertisement appeared in the aviation magazines "Aeroplane" and "Flight" that roused the somnulent world of British aviation. Sabena, the Belgian Airline, wanted Pilots. practically everybody at Shorts applied but I did not. I was quite happy at Rochester. We had our little house and garden, the children were happy at school and had rapidly made friends. The working hours were reasonable and left me free to enjoy family life and free lance at weekends. I learned ,later that Sabena had over 1200 applications .
A week or so went by and one day I came in to work about a quarter to ten to find my Flight Commander, Peter Harrison, in a bad mood. "What time do you think this is ?" he said "I'm not lecturing this morning, Peter " I said, reasonably " It doesn't matter; everyone is supposed to be here at nine whether they're lecturing or not " he replied. I lost my temper "Why don't you install a bloody time clock then we can clock in and out!" was my reply. I stormed out and sat straight down and sent off a letter to Sabena applying for one of the vacancies.
I quickly forgot about it but got a letter from Sabena's London Airport Office asking me to come for an interview on a weekday the following week. I wrote off an answer saying that I was working during the week and, in all fairness to my present employer, could not ask for time off to apply for another job. I told them that if they could not fit me in on a Saturday then they could forget about my application. I sent this off and forgot all about Airline flying about which I knew nothing. A few days later our neighbour, Mrs. Foreman, told me that there was a phone call for me. It was a lady from Sabena who told me that she was the London Manager's secretary and that they would intervoew me the next Saturday morning. Even then I was in two minds whether to go or not but, eventually, we all went up to London where we stayed with our old friends Chris and Jim Smith who were neighbours from our block of flats during our Clapham days.

The interview turned out to be more like a questionnaire conducted by me as it seemed that an expanding Sabena were desperate for pilots and were trying to sell the idea of coming to Sabena and the many benefits of living in Belgium. The big obstacle in getting the job was the huge number of applicants. Evidently Sabena were expanding rapidly. They were one of the oldest companies in the world and pioneered flying to Africa between the two World Wars. The Belgian Pilots' Association was agreeable to the \company recruiting foreign pilots but had insisted
that they must be British, preferably with RAF backgrounds. This was because the hard core of Captains was all ex RAF and most of them with distinguished Fighter Pilot careers and still with a high regard for the UK. Many of them were married to British girls, several of them ex WAAFs .
The very high number of applications was due to the fact that Sabena wanted pilots of varying experience, some of them with very few hours for future training but some with enough experience to fill the present gaps. They had not asked for current licences so ex-RAF pilots who were in sedentary jobs and had long given up the thought of a future in civil aviation had applied. The fact that they wanted a few experienced pilots was where I was lucky.

The interview board consisted of Mr Stocke, The London Manager. Mr. Stainier, The Sabena General Manager and one of the handful of British Pilots who had joined Sabena directly after the war, Dougie Owen.
I was told that, if chosen, I would be given four years of seniority to compensate for my high number of flying hours ( three thousand...a lot of hours in 1952 ) and would be paid around twice as much as a Captain in the UK was earning at that time but that I would have to start as a Senior First officer and was promised a Captaincy within two years. In BOAC, now British Airways, First Officers were waiting up to twelve years and ,sometimes, never attaining Captain's rank. There would be a probation period of three months and then the Company would pay for the passage of Dora and the three children to join me in Brussels. During this period I would be lodged in a first class hotel and all meals would be paid for by the Company. There would be a ground course followed by examinations on general aviation subjects such as Meteo, Radio procedure, Air Traffic and even Aviation Law. I did not anticipate any trouble from this as I already held a Commercial Licence which 97% of the applicants did not. All this was dependent on passing Sabena's medical examination.
A heartsearching discussion now took place between Dora and myself. It must be remembered that this was 1952...long before the Common Market had ever been thought about. Very little was known about Belgium by the average British citizen and what there was was not very heartening. The country was going through a very critical constitutional stage. The King, Leopold the second,had been spurned by the country after the war and had been forced to abdicate. There were many calls for Belgium to become a Republic and the British press reported fighting between the Flemish and the French speaking Wallons with many student protestations mainly from the Flemish speaking "Vlaams" groups.
In the end we decided to accept the three months probation period as that would give us a chance to see for ourselves what conditions were like. Dora and the children would stay with her parents in St. Helens but Sabena had promised free tickets at weekends and they had a DC3 service to Manchester so "wi out further talking or chatter, that were decided upon" To be continued ...if you so desire, Reg

Union Jack
12th Aug 2009, 10:22
To be continued ...if you so desire, Reg

We do, Reg, we certainly do!:ok:

Salaams

Jack

S'land
12th Aug 2009, 10:33
To be continued ...if you so desire

Sorry Reg, that ranks as a silly question. Of course we want to hear the rest. This is still one of the best and most enjoyable threads on the board.

Tabby Badger
13th Aug 2009, 02:25
This is actually one of the best and most enjoyable threads on the Internet and has been permanently open on my PC since its inception as I wait as patiently as I can for updates. Thank you. It's the stuff of legend; the legends that are directly responsible for my own 25 year career in the RAF, and I am sure, the careers of many, many others. To have such human faces put upon them and see them recounted in the first person is priceless. Please keep up the good work gentlemen, and never doubt that many of us are hanging on your every word. TB

Caractacus
13th Aug 2009, 05:05
The interesting aspect about your Sabena selection is that, given there was no shortage of applicants, how gentlemanly they seemed to be. What a contrast with today's 'call centre culture' which seems to have come with the low cost airlines.

cliffnemo
13th Aug 2009, 15:16
GOOSEQUILL. With regard to your question about oxygen, I started to scan my notes on oxygen and then realised I may have done this before. I then tried to use the search facility in PPRuNE, to find the relevant page but this only brought up all the pages containing the word oxygen.. I then remembered some one on this thread had told us there was an easier way, use Google. I entered ‘oxygen pprune cliffnemo’ and amazingly it said page 32 on this thread. So refer to page 32 and it may answer some of your questions. As I remember it basic it might have been, but it worked well, no different to breathing pure air.. I am not sure , but I think the oxygen flowed all the time it was switched on which would be rather wasteful . It was unlike the modern diving demand valve fitted to compressed air bottles which only deliver air when a diver breaths in. Oxygen itself has no taste or smell and I cannot recall any. I experienced no problems breathing oxygen, no problems in taking a breath, and think the system, for that period comfortable and perfect. The only problem I had as previously mentioned was when my portable bottle failed on my return from the Elsan, and I collapsed at the main spar.



I think at this stage the matter of aircrew punishment and ’The Glass House’ should be brought up. Shortly after arrival at Hemswell we heard that an? a? N.C.O aircrew member had either sworn at, or hit an officer , and had been sent to ‘The Glasshouse‘ for twenty eight days. Evidently this was in the original Sheffield prison, and was mainly, if not solely, for aircrew, and run by the R.A.F (not sure)
On return from Sheffield the N.C.O was questioned by every one about his treatment. He told us that after breakfast every morning he went into the prison yard, given a wheel barrow, brush , shovel, white wash, and brush. First he had to go to the far side of the yard , brush it clean, and whitewash the floor , return to the far side and fill the wheelbarrow with coal, wheel to the other side and tip the coal on the white washed floor, return to the opposite side , brush up, white wash , and repeat the whole procedure all day long. He also told us the food was terrible, and the treatment horrible, no wonder his last remark was ‘never again‘.

Evidently the treatment was much the same for the army offenders. I was telling a friend of mine who had been in the army, ex Dunkirk, and ex D Day, He told me something similar happened to him . He returned to camp drunk and was ridiculed by a superior so he ‘lashed out’ finishing up in the Glasgow army glasshouse for twenty eight days ( Blairllnie prison ?) On arrival he called a sergeant sarge, The sergeant replied I am sergeant, not serge, and that webbing belt is filthy (although it had just been cleaned) told him to ,blanco the belt and polish the brass and return for inspection. On return the sergeant told him to take it off ,and throw it on the ground , then told him to stamp on it. He then told him to pick it up , and as he was picking up the belt kneed him under the chin , knocking him over.

HAPPY DAYS.

P.S Think I am now using Sky broadband, but not sure . One page says "No connection" I Click a few buttons and I am connected. Sky + is brilliant, and phone is working on
Sky, I think.

Arclite01
13th Aug 2009, 15:26
This is a great thread. I'm enjoying the Sabena stuff as much as cliffnemos WW2 stuff - both fascinating................

keep on going :-)


Arc

regle
13th Aug 2009, 16:41
As soon as you mentioned the word demand , Cliff, I remember that the system used by us on Halifaxes was just that and gave you oxygen as you breathed in. It was quite odourless and one very quickly became adapted to it without even having to think about it. One of it's useful things was the ability to switch to 100% so that the flow became constant and was useful to regain your shattered nerves when a burst of flak under the tail had turned you on your back (but did nothing for the smell ).. It was also used extensively when on an Air test the morning after a night out in Pontefract or other such delightful Watering Hole.
Apropos the distasteful Glasshouse stories did you ever come up across any episodes of the punishment for LMF( Lack of Moral Fibre ) ? I never did and put most of this
squarely amongst the shameful behaviour of the treatment of "Cowardice" during the WW1 and applaud it's subsequent apologies by the Government. Many thanks, everyone, for the kind words to us 'old uns. By the way, Cliff, I hadn't heard 'ecky thump for centuries and it took me right back to a glass of Ale in Yates Wine Lodge, now defunct, in Blackpool.

Union Jack
13th Aug 2009, 16:58
Blairllnie prison

Cliff - I'm actually quite glad that you are unfamiliar with the name of HMP Barlinnie, known to the cognescenti as the Bar-L or, in more recent times as Smack City - and we're not talking corporal punishment here!:eek:

Jack

PS I trust that the Moderati will ensure that these enthralling and truly historical accounts of the intriguing progression from life as an aviator in WWII to life Post-war to Sabena and beyond all remain firmly in one place .....:ok:

regle
13th Aug 2009, 20:30
I would defend it this way. Drift in the Navigational sense is caused by the wind and I would argue that the Post War, and this would more than encompass Air travel, was a product of the winds of change that were brewed in the cauldron of World War 2. Gaining a brevet in WW2 was one of the keys to the door of the classroom to enable us to participate in this period and thus gain a greater knowledge of how to navigate this later period more safely and therefore bestows a right to make this knowlege and experience available to others, eager to put it to the best of uses. The Defence rests.! Regle.

Wiley
13th Aug 2009, 23:14
Cliff, are you able to give us any information on the (possibly mythical?) horror camp in Scotland where aircrew accused of LMF were sent?

I think John Beede mentioned it in his excellent, if very bitter, recounting of his time as an Air Gunner on light bombers, "They Hosed Them Out".

Wherever it was I read about it, the author mentioned that the "LMF" aircrew were treated abominably by RAF SP prison guards, almost all of whom had never seen a moment's combat and had no idea what the prisoners had been through.

Spartacan
14th Aug 2009, 05:52
>>Gaining a brevet in WW2 was one of the keys to the door of the classroom to enable us to participate in this period and thus gain a greater knowledge of how to navigate this later period more safely and therefore bestows a right to make this knowlege and experience available to others, eager to put it to the best of uses.<<

Keep it going please! The transition to post war Britain is just as interesting. We can all learn a lot from how blokes settled back into civvy street and re established their lives. This period needs to be remembered to. People had to start from scratch by all accounts. My late Dad (RNVR), for example, returned to Univerisity in 1946 to finish the degree he started in 1938!

What is interesting about Cliff and Regle is that, 60 plus years on they are now prepared to to talk about their experiences. My parents and relatives were a lot older in WW2 and, in their later lives, it was still all a bit too close to home to talk about. As children in the 1960's and 70's we heard snippets but no more. Now with this thread we are seeing a different side of things - and learning a lot!

I find it fascinating hearing about austerity Britain.

Union Jack
14th Aug 2009, 10:11
I would defend it this way. Drift in the Navigational sense is caused by the wind and I would argue that the Post War, and this would more than encompass Air travel, was a product of the winds of change that were brewed in the cauldron of World War 2. Gaining a brevet in WW2 was one of the keys to the door of the classroom to enable us to participate in this period and thus gain a greater knowledge of how to navigate this later period more safely and therefore bestows a right to make this knowlege and experience available to others, eager to put it to the best of uses. The Defence rests!

I am delighted to have unintentionally provoked such a masterly and truly Churchillian response, and a great defence indeed although - as I suspect you already know from our PMs! - none is needed since my specific hope was precisely to ensure that all your, and Cliff's et al, wonderful stories are indeed kept in the one place.

Out of respect for you, and "for the avoidance of doubt", as you lawyers would say, I have therefore amended the PS in my original post to make it less nautical and more historical.:ok:

With very best wishes

Jack

cliffnemo
14th Aug 2009, 15:57
Cliff, are you able to give us any information on the (possibly mythical?) horror camp in Scotland where aircrew accused of LMF were sent?

Sorry WILEY I can't give you any info on the 'horror camp in Scotland' , but don't think aircrew were punished by beeing sent to a 'horror camp' Think they must have committed some other offense to be punished that way. however REG, could you correct this statement if I am wrong, bearing in mind , I welcome constructive criticism when I offer 'duff gen'. I think the rules were . All air crew were volunteers. They could at any time refuse to fly. The punishment was to be labelled L.M.F and reduced to the ranks. Usually they were given some menial task, but one of the worst results was that brevets , stripes etc when removed always left signs on their uniforms of their removal. I remember, immediately post war, visiting our concrete works, to decide what parts were required for the maintenance at the weekend. I was surprised to see a man shovelling sand and cement into a large concrete mixer, R.A.F mustache, R.A.F battle dress devoid of all insignia, but still showing the imprint of his pilots brevet, D.F.C and D.F,M and squadron leaders rings. Incidently, from then on we became best friends, and I may give further info about Cedric later.

I don't think every one despised these men, I think a lot of us said 'There but for the grace of God go I'

Must stress Cedric hadn't 'gone' L.M.F, just removed the brevet etc so that he didn't have to dirty his demob suit. And would add he didn't stay long on the 'banjo' (shovel)

REG COMMENTS PLEASE

regle
14th Aug 2009, 16:33
Cliff, I have never seen any hard and fast written rules on the subject. I am quite sure that you are right that all air crew were volunteers. From the age of 18 until the first "conscription" age you could volunteer for the Service as well as the job which was the carrot in front of the donkey for the would be Pilots especially as about from 20 onwards you became liable for conscription and had no escape from being sent down the mines if they so desired.
As to the LMF factor, once again I never ever came upon anyone who had been labelled with that "Shame". I cannot ever even remember hearing of anyone in a crew being removed from "Ops" with the stigma of "LMF" so cannot comment on the punishment factor. There were, of course, loads of stories flying around about places such as Brighton , in particular, and also dreadful tales of the treatment handed out. I am sure that there were such nasty scenes of parades with the hapless man being stripped of all insignia but I never met anyone , or wanted to, who had ever seen such a happening. I would say that the vast majority of Squadron Commanders were exactly what one would expect and were compassionate in their treatment of the borderline cases that must have come up . We were fortunate in the immediate leaders of our Forces which speaks volumes for the quality of all the "volunteers". Reg.

Goosequill
15th Aug 2009, 20:55
Hi Cliff, Reg,

Clearly, I have no personal experience to offer on this subject, but I have read the reports on the psychological disorders of RAF flying personnel that the RAF psychologists produced in 1947. Most of the research (from flight and squadron commanders, as well as the squadron medics) actually tacitly acknowledged that it was largely a selection failure if someone displayed 'LMF' on ops. Instructors, medics, and even the padres were instructed to be on the lookout for the signs of someone not cut out for the job before their training ended, so they could be extracted while there was still time. However, the LMF sword of Damocles was kept, even if used as little as possible, to keep temporary waverers on the straight and narrow.

The psychologists' report based on the 1943 interviews may be at odds with the empirical reports that came later. The 1943 reports reckoned that it was easier to get the first half of a tour out of a man than the second, whereas other sources say vice versa. But both sources agree that it would be after the first six ops that people were confirmed as good to carry on, or have to be extracted. Then there was the dozen ops point where a worried man might have to be buoyed up by his fellow airmen to convince him he could carry on - he usually did. Then there was the final few ops of the tour when many wondered if they would make that final few.

So, that was the shrinks' view, and I regret I will have to wait two weeks for any comment - I'm off on hols in a few hours, so will catch up then.

Cheers,

Dave

cliffnemo
21st Aug 2009, 13:27
Ah REG, Yates’s Wine Lodge , Uncle Tom’s Cabin, The war won, train from Kirkham to Blackpool for a night out. Last train back to Kirkham, Reminds me how two and a half tons of fifty six pound test weights and some ‘red’ paraffin lamps mysteriously disappeared from Blackpool Central? Station and reappeared at Kirkham station. I might stick my neck out and tell the tale later., but back to Hemswell.

One advantage I had over some of the others was the freedom my motorbike gave me.. It was great to be able to nip into Gainsborough for a night out, to explore the local area, but most of all I could travel home whenever off duty. The ferry across the Humber was only twenty miles away with very little traffic, the journey most times would only take half an hour. This reminds me of one night when we were ‘stood down’, the crew decided to travel into Gainsboro, I went on my motorbike , one crew member on a push bike and four others on the crew bus. The W.O.P. Jock, who didn’t drink smoke, and obviously a sensible chap, remained in the billets. We gave him the telephone number of the hostelry we intended to visit , in case we were required. Unfortunately we were recalled, and then had the problem how to transport the extra four back to Hemswell quickly.. We eventually decided the only way was to tow the bike, using a piece of a shot up drogue rope that I always carried on the motorbike. Fortunately the push bike had a backstep so with three on the motorbike and three on the push bike we cruised back to camp at a steady twenty knots., with no repercussions. `

We next carried out a diversion raid, no doubt dropping loads of Window, a total of six and a half hours flying. This was the trip when there was a ‘clamp on’ at Hemswell as previously described. ~We landed at Dishforth with what seemed like the rest of the R.A.F. Returning to base after a good sleep. More h igh level bombing, fighter affiliation, and air to sea firing, and self tow.


And now the tale of I Q Jig. ( Reg your observations on this would be much appreciated. What do you think went wrong?). I Q Jig was known as a jinx aircraft on the squadron, having been forced to land in France, repaired using cannibalised parts and returned to 150 Sqdn and was usually allocated to sprog aircrews. After fitting with a new starboard inner we were the lucky ones to be chosen to air test it, with instructions to climb to ten thousand feet, and stop the starboard engine ,feather the prop, for ten minutes, then restart. We duly climbed to ten thousand feet and feathered as per instructions, and we trimmed the rudder to compensate for the dead engine. Shortly after this , we flew into thick cloud. I was instructed to unfeather and start the engine. I believe the trim was not removed , so we then had the starboard engine and the trim pulling the aircraft to port at which point I glanced at the turn and bank indicator and noticed it showed a rate four turn to port, In other words the needle was ‘up against the stop’ think the gyro had toppled and the airspeed was increasing . This was followed by load bangs creaking, and shuddering with the Lanc rapidly descending in a spiral. Still in thick cloud, the skipper shouted emergency, emergency, jump, jump. As my chute was stowed under the ’navs’ table there was no time for me to reach and fit it, so I stowed my seat and lent against the Starboard side of the aircraft to make room for the ’nav’ to pass me on his way to the escape hatch. However as the turn tightened I was pinned against the starboard side facing the skipper, and could not move and suspect non of the crew could move. more loud noises, popping , and banging and the altimeter merrily whizzing round. The only thing I remember is that my eyes were alternately fixed on the skipper ,and the altimeter, until we broke cloud at about a thousand feet, and saw the ground rapidly approaching. The skipper was hauling back the stick with all his might. And the Lanc seemed to level out just above the trees. The intercom suddenly came alive with the crew making silly remarks, and someone singing ‘I am safe in the arms of Jesus, . I don’t care if it rains or freezes etc’ However the mid upper was surprisingly quiet. We decided to land and keep quiet about the whole episode . Hoping no one would notice a few panels missing from the top of the wings, ( yes , I know , some chance. But it seemed a good idea at the time ,sir. ). After ‘Funnels’ the airfield , which appeared to be quiet , suddenly became a hive of activity, the fire engine, and ‘blood wagon’ being the first to appear. Followed by numerous bods on bicycles who headed for our dispersal. On arrival at the dispersal we were amazed to see people staring up at the Lanc with open mouths. We were soon to find out why when we climbed out of the aircraft to find numerous panels missing, but worst of all the mid upper turret at disappeared , We found out later, all external aerials had disappeared, every radio valve in the aircraft was shattered ,etc, etc. When we finally found the mid upper gunner, he was completed dazed and with difficulty explained parts of the turret had hit the back of his head. He was immediately sent to the station hospital for tests. One of the tests was something like. walk four paces forward, three to the right, t hen three to the left He could not complete this task , and was immediately moved to a specialist hospital.

An enquiry followed, each crew member questioned individually, after which, nothing further was heard, I would imagine from then on I.Q Jig was avoided ,whenever possible by crews ,and possibly gven another call sign.

REG. Discuss?.
Gyros toppling. ‘Flying by the seat of your pants’. Trim ? What do you think the panel of enquiry would say in private after the enquiry? How many times crews were ordered to jump. Jump and could not move ? Did we exceed Mach 1 ? (Don’t remember an order to reduce revs and boost)

I attach below a scan of ‘Pilot’s Notes, General 1943 ,contents page, and if any one would like me to print any particular page, I would be happy to do so. (+Time and energy permitting)
http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/PILOTSNOTES258.jpg

regle
21st Aug 2009, 22:01
Certainly that old black magic got you out of that one, Cliff. I'm pretty sure that you got into a flat spin in cloud and the negative G would certainly topple all the gyro instruments and probaly that's where you lost your turret and the mid upper. As I used to demonstrate but not to the limits that you went to , if you left the Lanc alone it would sort itself out but you had lost an engine and had the trim to contend with and all I can say is that you were bl...y lucky to get away with your lives. Yes you would, indeed , be pinned to the sides and would never have got out with the G forces against you, especially in a Lanc with that main spar to get over. I imagine that the Board of Inquiry were at as much of a loss to find out what went wrong as you were and were glad not to have to take it any further. Pilot Error ......but it wasn't really that. Lack of training in Instrument Flying, poor Instruments and poor positioning of safety exits ... you name it...but in the end it came down to a combination of all those things that caused it and sheer good luck and then sufficient skill to take it on from there played it's part together with the inherent good flying characteristics of the aircraft when it was left to itself, to get you all out from a horrific situation. Thanks for telling it so vividly. It gave me the shakes just reading it, Reg.

kookabat
22nd Aug 2009, 04:54
Cliff made mention of the motorbike and the freedom that came from it. I've encountered a few stories of airmen with various forms of motorised transport (and not so motorised, like a pushbike...). The pilot of the crew I'm researching shared a car with his deputy flight commander (a guy called Dan Conway), the vehicle being affectionately known as "Gearless Gertie". I'm assuming that Dan took over full ownership when Phil was posted missing over Lille, there being no further mention of it in any of his letters after returning to the UK (though he does write about claiming his wireless back).

Was the MUG thrown out with his turret or did you find him elsewhere in the aeroplane?

cliffnemo
22nd Aug 2009, 11:01
KOOKABAT. The 'midupper' was still in the aircraft, on the rest bed I think. He did not attend the celebrations that evening at a pub at Caenby Corner on the A15, unfortunately.
By 2000 HRS we were all fully recuperated, and I would imagine singing away around the piano as usual. We're leaving Khartoum by the light of the moon./When this blinking war is over/Bless em all. Silly men.

I think Gearless Gerty would possibly be a Lanchester, which had a fluid flywheel instead of a clutch . Although it may have been that it was stuck in one gear. This sort of thing was the norm during the war as spares were almost impossible to obtain for civilian vehicles.For instance tyres were run untill the the tread disappeared and the tubes popped out. Oh happy days

regle
22nd Aug 2009, 14:14
Trolley Ack tyres were always as good as new ( not much mileage on a trolley ack ) and fitted most cars of that era. A word with the Chiefy was usually enough. I had a Lanchester later on and it was a lovely car... I always thought that it was an offshoot of Daimlers but could be mistaken. (BSA ?) The fluid flywheel was way before it's time and was great to use. Regle

S'land
22nd Aug 2009, 14:59
Regle:
Lanchester was an independent company founded, I believe, around 1899. They merged with Daimler in 1931. I nearly bought second hand one in the mid seventies. I wish I had. It had the Wilson pre-selector gearbox.

cockney steve
23rd Aug 2009, 16:56
In 1975 or thereabouts, I owned a Lanchester "10" of 1947 vintage.

Although a quality car of it's time, such things as a heater were not standard!
the opening windscreen was useful on frosty mornings, peering , watery-eyed thriugh the resulting "gun slit" to make progress.

a party-trick with the Preselector, was to drive into a filling-station, stop, reverse, all without taking a hand off the steering-wheel :)

Daimler buses of the era were also fitted with the Wilson 'box - any attempt to move the selector -lever whilst the gear- change pedal (clutch -equivelent ) was depressed, was rewarded with a mule-kick from said pedal....the selector would need to be moved and the engagement-mechanism reset with a stout push on the pedal.....fine on the cars, but commercial drivers who survived this, without their upper-leg being broken on the underside of the steering -wheel, usually had to stand with both feet on the pedal and use the steering-wheel for a purchase to get the beggar re-latched.

A fascinating system, and though the fluid flywheel was not a torque-multiplier, it did enable slippage so engine-revs would come up on the power-band. the 3-speed and reverse Epicyclic gearbox design is a clear relative of the modern auto-transmission.

Daimler, Lanchester and BSA cars (among others) all used the Wilson transmission and a thriving owners' club serves those three makes.

Frederick Lanchester was a brilliant engineer.

Thanks, Gents for these reminiscences which bring the past so alive.

I still chuckle at the thought of all those rotting poisoned birds! :}

kookabat
24th Aug 2009, 00:52
From spinning Lancasters to dodgy car transmissions in five easy posts. What a fantastic thread!!

regle
24th Aug 2009, 09:07
Put that into Auto Route and see what you get...The Wars of the Roses ? Not a bad guess with the BSA and the Daimler. As you say, Kookabat...fantastic thread and now the Ashes as well to rub it in ! RRRegle.

cliffnemo
24th Aug 2009, 10:05
From Lanchester to Lancaster via Halifax


Would some one put me out of my misery and stop my mind wandering when I read these posts.
This time it was-

From Hull, Hell, and Halifax, Good Lord deliver us.

What did Wordsworth say?
And oft when on my couch I lie, in vacant or in pensive mood. they flash upon that inward eye , which is the bliss of solitude.???

thegypsy
24th Aug 2009, 10:44
I have just been sent a photo by my sister of my Uncle's course during WW11

He was in A Flight Ninth Course No 1 Squadron RAF Aberystwyth dated 25th Feb 1941. All the names were shown of all 48 men. In the front row two corporals ,a P/O R.O Whitaker and in the middle ( the boss I guess as he has wings unlike the rest Flt Lt C.Wyatt-Hughes)

Clearly my uncle got a move on gaining his Pilots Brevet as in Jan 1942 as a P/O Wellington Pilot in No 40 Squadron from Alconbury he crashed into the North sea and was a POW for the rest of the war. Sadly two of the crew of 6 were killed

I wonder how many passed the course and survived the war?

andyl999
24th Aug 2009, 14:05
Your Father's course I think must have been in the UK, as the first USA designated cadets were Class 42A on the Arnold Scheme, they actually (as 42A Suggests) were planned to graduate with wings in January 1942 (although I think Reg you graduated in December 1941?). So the first cadets would be coming back from the USA when your Father crashed.

When I counted how many survived in some of the courses in 1942 it was somewhere between 40 to 50% had died. However as the war went on the rate changed with the prevailing battles. i.e in 1940 we needed fighter pilots as the UK was being attacked, however later in the war when we went on the offensive we needed more Bomber and Ground Attack pilots.

Icare9
24th Aug 2009, 15:14
thegypsy: You can always use the CWGC website to look up the names of those on that course to see who didn't make it. To shorten the search, put in Second World War (obviously!) and then you can search just for Air Force casualties.
You'd need at least one initial unless a very unusual name, and sometimes the names they were known by had little in common with their true initials! But it could be a useful exercise. Isn't that so Reg?!!

S'land
24th Aug 2009, 15:30
.... and sometimes the names they were known by had little in common with their true initials!

This is true. A couple of years ago I wanted to look up the details of an uncle who was killed in the run up to Operation Torch. I put his name into the CWGC search engine and got no results. It was only when I put his surname only into the system and spent ages sifting through all of the names, and those of the next of kin, that I found him. I had not realised that, like me, everyone used his middle name when referring to him. He was listed under his true first name.

andyl999
24th Aug 2009, 15:48
I too tried to use CWWG for finding my Uncle who was a Spitfire pilot in North Africa (operation Torch) who died on March 30th 1943.

I put his name in that we all knew him by and got nothing, eventually I just tried the surname and got three pages on the last page Bingo he was, using his second name in normal life!

Regards Andy

PS it's a long and arduous task though!

thegypsy
24th Aug 2009, 16:25
Blimey, wish I hadn't mentioned that now but here goes. Will come back next week sometime!

Oh dear just looked up the first one at the start of the back row one P/O H Waugh killed 4/4/42 guess it was him. Think I will stop at that.

Icare9
26th Aug 2009, 07:34
OOps! Sorry, guys, didn't want to make this an unhappy task!
I was trying to say that the CWGC site is very useful, but you only get back results for what you put in.... surnames can be a good start point if you don't find the result first time, although spelling variations or phonetic options need to be explored. After all, Pat doesn't always mean "Patrick" but could be a "nickname" for someone with Irish connections, Fred could be Frederick or ALfred, Bert might be Bertram, ALbert or Herbert; similarly for Bill and Bob, or as you have found, names they were known by aren't always the same as their initials.
Don't forget that you can amend the search parameters, I usually start with everything blanked apart from the War and then narrow it down. it is limited to 1,001 names (67 pages) so if you need a RAF chap from United Kingdom, that strips out all the Navy and Army bods..... simples..... And you may not realise that the HEADINGS are searchable, so if you know their serial number, Regiment etc, you can arrange them numerically or alphabetically, although sometimes you need to go to the end of the 9xxx numbers to pick up the prefix series, which you don't always know about in advance!!!
I've just been updating a Roll of Honour for Acton WW1 and have traced over 700 with a few more still refusing to come out of the woodwork!!

andyl999
26th Aug 2009, 13:57
You may all recall both Nemo and Regle Talking about their respective trips to the USA for pilot training.

I stumbled across this webpage in my research, this pilot actually travelled on the same ship to and from the USA as Reg. I sent the return story to Reg and he realises that he is even luckier than he thought! He does remember seeing one of the destroyers blow up, it's hard to understand that the press announce the shipping details of new pilots back to the UK?

Hope it's OK to show parts of another website?

Wickenby Lancaster PD201 (http://www.fredshorney.com/index-2.php)

Journey Out

After final exams he became one of the first British airmen of the war to learn to fly in the United States under the secret Arnold Scheme, away from ration books, blackouts and bombs. All the group of 550 was told at this stage was they were going to Canada and at Greenock they boarded the twin-funnelled Britannic, flanked by the battleship Rodney and destroyers Eskimo, Mashona, Somali and Tartar. All this for one troopship? They soon found out why after the convoy set out on May 22. Some airmen broke the monotony of the voyage by reading the escorting warships' Aldis lamp signals and were alarmed to discover the Bismarck was not only on the high seas but had their position and course. It did not improve their peace of mind to see the Rodney and three of the four destroyers peel off and disappear below the horizon to hunt down the pride of the German navy. The Admiralty had signalled to the Rodney: "If Britannic cannot keep up, leave her behind with one destroyer." The Rodney in turn signalled to Britannic to head at top speed for her destination. The liner, now accompanied by only the Eskimo, changed course and increased speed but arrived safely in Halifax, by which time the Bismarck had been sunk, the Rodney having played a key part in the denouement. A relieved cargo of trainees spent that night on board, gazing in wonder at Halifax dock's lights undimmed by blackouts.


Journey Back

At Halifax on January 30, 1942, they boarded the 15,000-ton Dutch liner Volendam for the 2,800-mile return journey, accompanied by another troopship and two Royal Navy destroyers. The fact that the enemy could easily have read in the American press full details of their training in the United States and its conclusion date only imperilled them more.

The several thousand British and Canadian aircrew aboard wrestled with hammocks below decks on the first night as the Volendam set off on her treacherous voyage. They would know nothing of the hideous disaster to take place in the heavy seas around them. German U-boat U-82 intercepted the fast-moving convoy, and her captain prepared to fire torpedoes. One of the destroyers, HMS Belmont, went full speed ahead to block the line of fire to the Volendam. Within seconds a torpedo hit the Belmont, which was rocked by two violent explosions, and she sank with all 138 hands in the bitter cold winter night. Her brave crew had sacrificed themselves because the safety of the Volendam passengers was considered paramount.

The Volendam sped away, believing that as they were only 300 miles out of Halifax a rescue ship would soon arrive to look for any survivors. A frantic chase then took place as U-82 tracked its quarry for three days, keen to use two remaining torpedoes. She was joined by three other U-boats, two of which fired their torpedoes, but the fleeing convoy's 14-knot (16mph) speed was too great for the pursuers.

Trying to sleep as best they could in their hammocks the airmen had come within seconds of death without knowing it, and neither were they told of the drama when they woke on the second day. But alarm soon spread when, on deck, they could spot only one destroyer. The second troopship, USS George Washington, was also nowhere to be seen, fuelling incorrect speculation that both ships had been lost in the night.

Fred said: "When we got up the next morning the second troopship and the second destroyer were not there. We didn't know about any attacks overnight. When you go to sleep all you can hear are the motors of your own ship. There was no information offered to us at all about it. There were a lot of RAF cadets who were very nervous indeed. Rumours went around that the other ship or ships had been sunk."

The airmen were not told of the furious race to escape the enemy as it took place over the next three days. All they saw was the remaining destroyer, HMS Firedrake, doing double duty for the rest of the trip, moving at high speed over a distance normally covered by two ships. Fred said: "It was listening for subs to sort them out, going out to the skyline in one direction, out to the skyline in the other direction. I remember being in the barber's shop and there was a great big bang and the ship shook. It was so close I thought it was the ship, but it was just our escort Firedrake dropping depth charges."

Andy

Just found this:-


1 9 4 2


January Newfoundland Escort Force service in continuation.
31st During escort of return troop convoy NA2 hit by torpedo from U82 off Halifax.
Sank with the loss of entire ship's company in position 42.02N 57-18W.

Icare9
27th Aug 2009, 09:43
Andy, I think HMS Belmont was one of the destroyers Churchill arranged on Lend Lease. HMS Belmont (H46) was a British Navy Town Class Destroyer. She was built as the USS Satterlee (DD190) in Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Co, Virginia, USA. On the 31st January 1942 in the North Atlantic SE of Halifax, Nova Scotia whilst escorting a Canadian Troop Convoy NA2 to the UK she was torpedoed and sunk by German submarine U-82. All the crew perished.
As you say, a remarkable story, and I'll raise a glass tonight in memory of that brave crew.

cliffnemo
31st Aug 2009, 10:28
RAMBLING ON IN MY OWN INIMITABLE STYLE.
We carried on with our training, a trip to Fredericia, to test German radar, and another to Flensburg, Delivery of a Lancaster to Elsham Wold, a couple of trips to Tours in France. (but can’t remember why) .. Various diversion raids, three of these counted as ops, but were very uneventful. The the rumour still persisted that we were being trained to eventually go with the squadron to the Far East, as it was considered the war in Europe would soon be over, and the Australians and New Zealanders were, quite rightly, feeling a bit neglected. It was felt that sending a large number of aircraft would help to rectify this situation.

During this period, we took off with the rest of the squadron just before dusk , and sometime after crossing the coast I noticed a Lancaster not too far below us, flying back to base. Whether I could see that he had one prop feathered, or not, I can’t remember, but if I didn’t I certainly found out the next day We heard that a Lancaster had crashed on the top of a hangar, all killed except the rear gunner who was unharmed and on parade in the morning, and the flight engineer was our flight engineer leader.

Evidently on landing with one engine dead , the aircraft had ‘undershot’ . The skipper ordered ‘full power’ and pulled the stick back with the result that it possibly stalled ,and then span round landing on top of the hangar. I think trim again reared it’s ugly head, plus giving full power to only three engines, or maybe pushing the throttles ‘through the gate’ (emergency power) would cause the aircraft to turn. Perhaps Reg would be good enough to explain to us what happens when you apply full power on three engines when nearly stalled out.

This was followed by instructions that all crews should practice three engine landings and we were told it was better to overshoot, than undershoot, that is, it was better to hit something at the end of the runway when the aircraft was travelling at a lower speed Hmmm. It provided a bit ot entertainment over the next few days, watching the antics of some of the pilots as they tended to come in too fast., trying to force the aircraft down while still flying., resulting in a few spectacular bounces and then applying full braking. Luckily Lancasters were fitted with an early form of A.B.S think it was called something like Dunlop Retardex? At times it seemed as if some of the pilots were intent on hitting something at the end of the runway.

Below is a picture of the Lancaster that crashed on the hangar. I did post it to this thread sometime ago, but it may have been removed by Photobucket, you may remember remove a pic from Photobucket and message appears on the post ‘picture removed by Photobucket’. I have also enhanced it slightly, but should point out it was taken with a five bob ( 5/-_or five shillings) Brownie box camera just peeping out of my battledress. (until V.J day it was an offence to be found with a radio or camera)
http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/CRASHHANGAR3265.jpg




If you remember some time ago I removed photographs from Photobucket which were then replaced with a notice ’ Removed by Photo bucket’ . I intended to replace them, but not in chronological order. So experimented with the photo below. I then thought possibly I could insert this in it’s original position. I inserted the photo below in it’s original position using edit See post # 64..
http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/HARDIECLIFF267.jpg



Any of you academics could advise . Should we say ’an R.A.F, or a R.A.F ?’ Vowel A before and acronym ?

Fareastdriver
31st Aug 2009, 12:47
what happens when you apply full power on three engines when nearly stalled out.


The only time I have seen that was with a Halifax at Aldergrove around 1949.
You go through the main dispersal, removing various Lancaster wing tips en route, through the firing range, through more assorted scenery and end up in the coal dump.

Being a Halifax you walk away from it.

regle
31st Aug 2009, 20:47
A very poorly taught and little known factor in assymetrical engine flying is "Safety Speed " If, with your wheels down and full flap, you open up full power on the good side be it one or two engines and assuming a complete loss of power on the other then there is a speed at which you can no longer keep the aircraft straight. That, very simply put, is your Safety Speed and if you let the aircraft get below that speed you will start turning towards the lost engines, you will start losing height in the turn due to the added lift required and you will stall and lose control of the aircraft. It was, probably , the cause of most of the accidents at OTU's and HCU's during assymetrical flying because frankly, the Instructors themselves were not sufficiently trained to know this and therefore very little, if any, instruction was given until much later when Bomber Command Instructors School came into being and , very quickly, taught recognition of Safety Speed as being of vital importance to the people who were going to be Instructors. When I had my crash in a Mosquito , returning from a raid on a German Airfield in Holland on one engine I am now sure that it was because I let the speed drop too low and below the Safety speed and was unable to stop it from turning and crashing into the trees that saved our lives by lowering us more gently to the ground. I had never had the words "Safety Speed" given to me in any of the instruction that I had been given. Hope that this helps. It goes without saying that you had a different safety speed for each configuration of the aircraft i:e Wheels down 30 Flap etc. Two good engines on one side, one good engine outboard , differing from inboard and even the direction of rotation of the propellors played a part because of the Gyroscopic effect acting 90 degrees in the direction of rotation. (The cause of many a swing on take-off in tail wheel aircraft when pushing the stick forward to raise the tail thus exerting a forward force at the top of the circle of the prop rotation which is transmitted to a sideways force of 90 degrees in the direction of rotation.) Reg.
I found this in a copy of pilots notes for a Halifax 3 (Hercules engines)
Engine failute on take-off. The aircraft can be kept straight on any three engines at take-off at full load provided a safety speed of 155 kts, has been attained.
In the event of an outer engine failure below safety speed, control will be lost unless the opposite outer engine is immediately throttled back, at least partially. Feather the propellor of the failed engine, retrim and re-open the throttle of the live outer engine.
After control has been regained as described above, it will be possilble to climb with flaps in the takeoff position and U/C up on three engines at take-off power at 140 kts. IAS at light loads.
At heavy loads or if the engine failure has occurred at a low height immediately after take-off it will be necessary to land straight ahead using the two inner engines to control the rate of descent.... And the best of British luck ! I hope that this clears things up. For Kts. read MPH....Sorry, but that's how accidents happen ! Reg.

kookabat
1st Sep 2009, 02:04
That was exactly my thoughts when I read Cliff's post. Safety speed being 'blue line' on today's multi-engine pistons - the speed below which there is not enough rudder authority to keep the aircraft going straight, and (secondary effects of rudder being roll and all that) rolling onto its back. The cause of a sadly fatal accident at Bankstown a few years ago.

Fareastdriver
1st Sep 2009, 09:17
It didn't stop with pistons. Fast forward to the Meteor, a few people killed in those trying to overshoot below safety speed.
Amazingly the Vulcan 2, believed to have no problems with that owing to its close set engines, was found to go out of control in a certain configuration. That was after a friend of mine was killed in one.

kookabat
1st Sep 2009, 23:58
It didn't stop with pistons.
...so my experience is somewhat limited compared with others on this thread.... :}

cliffnemo
7th Sep 2009, 11:01
One thing that really impressed me at Hemswell, was the ‘Esprit de corps’ (Consistently in pursuit of a common purpose.) . I don’t think I have ever experienced such dedication before, or since. Every one from the A.C 2s up to the C.O had only one goal, Unlike in industry where often people are pulling in different directions, and criticizing the ‘boss’ who doesn’t know what he is doing. In fact the upper ranks , who had already ‘done their bit’ were eventually forbidden to go on voluntary opps, as too many experienced officers were being lost..

With the end of the war approaching fast , it was decided to bomb Hitler’s retreat at Berchesgarten as it was suspected he was in residence. 150 SQDN was to take part. I hoped and prayed that our crew would be chosen, but it was not to be. Consequently I visited the engineer leader and asked if I could stand by in case he was short of an F.E. , but was told ‘join the queue’ .Frustrated again, a feeling I had throughout the war.

When it was officially announced that the war in Europe was over we decided to celebrate on the parade ground, with an evening bonfire, and fireworks ( using any Vary pistols and pyrotechnics we could acquire) The bonfire was built that afternoon using any combustible material that was not screwed down. The evening started off well with the airmen still ’ ‘pursuing a common cause‘ but the cause had altered slightly. Tables and chairs were brought out of the various messes and offices, and also a grand piano. An accomplished pianist, soon began to play all the usual ribald songs, and I must say, I had never seen so many happy people on an R.A.F station before, the atmosphere was electric , and the noise from singing airmen was deafening. Dancing on the tarmac square was rather difficult, but the W.A.A.F s did not complain. One thing that marred the evening somewhat was when some clot started to fire a Vary pistol almost horizontally just above the heads of the revellers. However he was quickly subdued and normal chaos resumed. When the fuel for the bonfire ran out, empty beer barrels were collected from the mess and burnt. However one thing annoyed me somewhat, was when the fire beginning to die out, some bods threw the grand piano on also. There were no repercussions, fights or fizzers ,everything brushed under the carpet, and the hole in the tarmac quickly repaired.

The following morning a church parade was organized. Crew buses and three tonners were used to transport us to the outskirts of Gainsboro from there we marched to the church in the centre of the town, preceded by a military band. Military bands are supposed to invigorate the marchers, but I’m afraid it didn’t work for this sorry looking bunch of stragglers, all suffering from the effects of the night before.
Shortly after V.E day it was decided to empty all the bomb dumps, and to this end we loaded the Lancasters with Incendiary and H.E bombs and took them almost to the middle of the North Sea. I say almost, because we did not have bacon and eggs the following morning. More likely porridge, cheese on toast, or other tasteless food. After this task was completed, we flew on ‘Cook’s Tours’ which consisted of taking ground staff on a tour of the Rheine valley, and the Ruhr , and showing them the effects of the bombing. I was surprised, when it was a bit ‘bumpy’ how many were airsick.

I reproduce this scan as it was removed by Photobucket on page 10 #187
http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/REPLACEBEAMAPPROACH271.jpg

Goosequill
7th Sep 2009, 17:31
Hi Cliff,

Thanks for that bit of navigational wizardry - took me a while to figure out, but; another gem...

Cheers,

Dave

regle
7th Sep 2009, 21:51
Sabena confirmed their acceptance of my application , subject to my passing their Medical examination and enclosed a return ticket London-Brussels. I went there on March 14th. 1952 in a Convair 240 OO-AWT and the Captain was British. He was called Len Thorne and was one of the Pilots that I had checked with the Check Flight at Aldermaston and had been made redundant from BEA in 1948 with me and about 80 others. He had gone to Sabena immediately and was already a Captain and spoke glowingly of the Company. About six of the passengers were obviously prospective Sabena pilots and we were met in Brussels by two very nice Sabena girls who showed us around the small complex at Melsbroek. One of us, David Cable, was so impressed by one of them , Lillian Goossens, that he stayed in Brussels that night, instead of going back to Brussels with the rest of us, and took her out to dinner. Nearly thirty years later, Dora and I were on a Sabena flight as passengers from Jo'burg to Brussels and we instantly recognised the Stewardess to be David and Lillian's daughter. As far as I know they are still in Brussels with their Grandchildren and the rest of their family.
The medical was a very thorough one and included blood tests, electro- cardiograph, X-Rays.etc. I was instructed by a little nurse to "deshabille" so when she left the room I undressed and lay on the couch. She came back in, burst out laughing, and went out again. One of the Doctors came in and explained that it was only necessary to undress "a la ceinture" to the belt.! After the Medical we were given a very good lunch in the Staff Canteen which was a lot better than most of the English Restaurants of that era and then, with the exception of Dave , caught the same plane and with the same Captain. back to London.
I, very quickly, received a letter from Sabena telling me that I had passed my medical and that I was to report to them at Brussels on May 1st.1952. They enclosed a ticket to fly on their service from Manchester.. This time the aircraft was a DC3 (21 passengers full load) and the Captain was a very nice Belgian called Captain Lieutenant. This caused a problem or two as we had never come upon that name as a surname before, or since for that matter. This time I was the only "would be" British Pilot on board but when we arrived at Melsbroek I was met by yet another nice Sabena girl who explained that May 1st. was a Public Holiday in Belgium and no one was working that day so she put me on a tram that was waiting ouside the Airport and told me to go to the Terminus where I would find the Palace Hotel and to book in there as that would be my home for the next three months.
The tramride was quite an experience as it swayed and vibrated for the many miles, or so it seemed before we arrived right outside the Palace Hotel. The Hotel seemd very nice so I had a bit of a wander round but everything was closed for the holiday so I went back to the Hotel where I met up with some of the other British Pilots who had arrived from London and we arranged to meet up later on and have dinner together. There were about six of us including Dougie Wilson, Jimmy Rice, Les Beech, Jack Veys and Denzyl Gaughan. We were all very pleased with our rooms, all en suite and very comfortable and we all met for drinks before being ushered in to the lovely Restaurant.
It is hard to relate, now, how we appreciated the menu that was put before us. In 1952 England was still under very strict rationing and Restaurants were very limited in what they could offer. The Head Waiter was most attentive and plied us with wine and we had Lobster, Oysters, Snails, Steak.... you name it. We had it.! When we had effectively , gone through the Menu, the Head Waiter presented us with the Bill. We airily waved it away and told him that Sabena would be paying. You could see that he was most unhappy about this but after a lot of consultations we went off to bed , very happy and full with the best meal that we had eaten for a very long time.

Next morning we caught the nearby tram to Melsbroek. We had been told to report at 0800 so we caught the 0700 tram. This was the first time that we had to try and get used to the very early start that the Continent made to their working day. We later found out it was so that they could make a very enjoyable and long luncheon break. We were also introduced to the habit of the "Handshake", The trip was around forty minutes with numerous stops and at each stop, as each new round of passengers got on , they would solemnly do the round of the tram and shake hands with the sitting passemgers, obviously fellow Sabena colleagues.. Each and every passenger carried a very smart briefcase and we wondered what was carried in them. We were met at the Terminus by the three young ladies who were to be our guides for the next few weeks and were told that the Operations Manager. Mr. Stainier, wished to meet with us. We had been warned that he had somewhat of a fearsome reputation and we thought " Ah. He is going to give us a welcome to Sabena. " We were ushered into his Office and there, in central position , upon his Desk and very evident was the Bill from the Restaurant. It was not even 0830 so the Hotel had not wasted any time. The Head Waiter must have beeen one of the handshaking passengers on the tram and now we knew what was contained in the briefcase which each and every passenger carried.


Mr Stainier began " When we said that we would pay for your food we did not mean that you could have the equivalent of an a la carte Wedding Banquet each day" Then he began to smile which, we were told later, was unheard of "I know what it must have seemed to you and I hope that you enjoyed it. so, this time, just this once, we will pay. In future you will have your lunch in the canteen and you will pay 14 B.Frs. for it and your daily allowance is 40 B.Frs. Now off to your classes and good luck to you all."
More later.. There were about 140 B.Frs. to the £ at this time but the daily allowance was ample for the Canteen, which was heavily subsidised by the Company.

pulse1
11th Sep 2009, 14:44
This excellent thread has been lurking on Page 3 so I thought I would bring it to the top by telling you about a chat I've just had with a near neighbour who I have actually known slightly for years. A nicer more self effacing man you would not meet.

He started out as a poor Durham miner and joined the RAF in 1939 to become Observer on a Bleinheim bomber. He didn't think much of that so he grabbed an opportunity to retrain as a W/Op/Gunner on a Beaufighter. Posted to North Africa he sank a few ships around Malta before getting shot down to become a PoW in Italy.

When Italy surrendered he escaped into the mountains, trying to get to Switzerland, until captured again by the Germans and remained in a prison camp near the Elbe until the Germans abandoned them as the Russians advanced. While they were wondering what to do, the camp was invaded by women and children trying to escape the Russians. When the Russians eventually arrived he witnessed the rape of several of them. It was this, more than anything which turned him against war.

This man must have so many stories from each phase of his War and I would love to get some of them out of him before it is too late. I did suggest that he came on here but he is stumped by anything "beyond Morse Code" he says. He is a very active 91 so I hope that I have some time yet.

GordonPDavis
11th Sep 2009, 18:23
I got my Pilot's brevet at 3 BFTS Oklahoma (course 16). Returned to England expecting great things but then came Harrogate. Suffered courses on aircraft recognition, ship recognition, unarmed combat, Link Trainer and now and again three weeks flying Tiger Moths. Then came three weeks at Melbourne, Yorkshire trying to be an Aerodrome Control Pilot and three weeks trying to be a soldier at Whitely Bay. Back to boring Harrogate and we were offered a posting to a railway station near our home if we volunteered to serve on the footplate! Then came a better offer - transfer to the Fleet Air Arm. I volunteered and in a short time did my first solo in a Miles Master and then a Spitfire and was transferred to the RNVR with the rank of Sub Lieutenant.

Next an intensive course at Henstridge, dummy deck landings, low-level photographic reconaissance and army cooperation. A long train journey to Ayr, allocated a Seafire and search for an Escort Carrier. Six real desk landings and then a few days leave.

Now, in contrast to the boredom of Harrogate, life got interesting. Flown out from Lyneham to Ceylon (as it was then) and joined 879 Squadron on HMS Attacker. Sailed as part of a Fleet led by HMS Nelson to the far east. During our journey to Malaya the Atom Bombs were dropped and the Japanese surrendered. HMS Attacker carried on alone to Singapore and after three days minesweeping of Singapore harbour we ceremoniously entered Singapore with all flags flying. Finally returned to Belfast and demobbed a few months later.

Dave Davis

S'land
11th Sep 2009, 20:33
In the last year and a quarter this thread has been one of the most interesting, informative and enjoyable that I have ever read. Not only the two main posters, but also the newer posters giving their memories have made it so.We can now add GordonPDavies to this list. It really would be great pulse1 if you could get your neighbour's memories added to this thread. His age should not preclude him from contributing. As far as I can see the older they are the more able to use a computer they are. We need more memories permanently recorded. One of my biggest regrets is that my late father, regular army not RAF, would only talk about the 'good times' and not the hard work that went into his career.

Icare9
12th Sep 2009, 00:31
Well said S'land, especially since I believe it was your tales on flying boats that got me into this! I too have the same regrets that I didn't get my parents to open up about their wartime training and service. All I ever got were the silly things, falling asleep in the desert and 3 weeks in hospital with sunstroke, learning to drive and hitting the only tree for miles, getting promoted, having a drink to celebrate and getting busted back down for drunk and disorderly. That's not what I want as memories, but that's what I have! Better that than nothing!
So come on, please don't let these memories die before they are recorded in whatever way possible.
PS a big welcome David, you'll not be allowed to just put up 3 paragraphs to encapsulate all your service. I'm sure stories of life aboard an aircraft carrier will be as rivetting and refreshing as those already posted. We expect you to maintain that standard, we're a demanding public and haven't been disappointed!

Wiley
12th Sep 2009, 01:30
... especially operating *** Seafires from a carrier! Some first hand accounts of landing on with that oh so narrow undercarriage should make for some interesting reading for all of us David.

-------

I have a second uncle twice removed who has eighty pages of hand written reminiscences from his time as a WOP on Sunderlands with the RAAF, including being shot down in the Bay of Biscay.

I just have to convince him to pass them on to me. His own kids aren't particularly interested.

regle
12th Sep 2009, 16:24
I think that the reluctance to tell your tales of "How Daddy won the War" comes from the "Oh No, not that again " look that seems to appear on the faces of the family around you and, especially, when they are in the horrible 'teen years and then, later on, when it becomes a "Pavlov response" to whatever sentence you begin with. I know that when my beloved Wife's father started to talk about Gallipoli, there was always a resigned look on the faces of the Grandchildren around but how I bitterly regret not having some of those stories on some kind of permanent record. So I beg of you, Gordon, please let us have plenty of choice morsels for the Pavlov dogs to chew on. Start right away ! Reg.

S'land
12th Sep 2009, 22:22
Icare9, thank you for the compliment, but I think that you will find that it was OldHairy who told us about his experiences with the Sunderland. Personally I wish that he was also contributing to this thread as he flew quite a few other aircraft as well as the Boats.

GordonPDavis
13th Sep 2009, 11:14
Hello Wiley,
Yes, landing and taking off a Seafire from an Escort Carrier could be very fraught.
HMS Attacker had a flight deck just less than 500 feet long and a beam of 100 feet, rather short and narrow! Because of the restricted forward vision of the Seafire the approach had to be a continual curve and with an airspeed only five knots above stalling speed. The approach and landing was controlled by the Batsman who not only controlled the landing but also had to adjust the approach in rough weather so that the plane caught an arrestor wire as the deck was rising. The Attacker had a top speed of some 20 knots so on a good day with a wind speed of say 20 knots the Seafire hooked up at a speed of 25 knots relative to the flight deck – not too bad!

Take off also had its troubles. As Regle mentioned in permalink 1068 the gyroscopic effect pulled an aircraft one way or the other. Not too much trouble on a wide runway but on an Escort Carrier the sea wasn’t all that far away! Secondly the flight deck was rather short. When the aircraft reached the end of the flight deck it was still not really airborne and for a few seconds the aircraft was still dropping towards the sea – rather scary!

All this talk of landing recalled the A25 Song –

They say in the Air Force a landing’s OK,
If the pilot can get out and still walk away,
But in the Fleet Air Arm the prospects are grim,
If he lands in the ‘oggin’ and can’t ****** swim.

Dave

kevmusic
13th Sep 2009, 15:47
Reg, I rather liked the 'Pavlova' response! :D

Dave - keep it coming! Approaching at 5 knots above the stall must have been "interesting" on a gusty day. How did the Seafire cope near the stall? Did she behave herself or did she drop a wing? Was there any turbulence or windshear from the flight deck?

And what was the tune to that song? So many questions!

GordonPDavis
13th Sep 2009, 16:37
Hello Wiley,
Yes, landing and taking off a Seafire from an Escort Carrier could be very fraught.
HMS Attacker had a flight deck just less than 500 feet long and a beam of 100 feet, rather short and narrow! Because of the restricted forward vision of the Seafire the approach had to be a continual curve and with an airspeed only five knots above stalling speed. The approach and landing was controlled by the Batsman who not only controlled the landing but also had to adjust the approach in rough weather so that the plane caught an arrestor wire as the deck was rising. The Attacker had a top speed of some 20 knots so on a good day with a wind speed of say 20 knots the Seafire hooked up at a speed of 25 knots relative to the flight deck – not too bad!

Take off also had its troubles. As Regle mentioned in permalink 1068 the gyroscopic effect pulled an aircraft one way or the other. Not too much trouble on a wide runway but on an Escort Carrier the sea wasn’t all that far away! Secondly the flight deck was rather short. When the aircraft reached the end of the flight deck it was still not really airborne and for a few seconds the aircraft was still dropping towards the sea – rather scary!
In World War Two he Germans also had trouble with gyroscopic effects – more ME109s were lost taking off than in combat!

All this talk of landing recalled the A25 Song –

They say in the Air Force a landing’s OK,
If the pilot an get out and still walk away,
But in the Fleet Air Arm the prospects are grim,
If he lands in the ‘oggin’ and can’t ****** swim.

Dave

Al R
13th Sep 2009, 16:49
Cliff said: With the end of the war approaching fast , it was decided to bomb Hitler’s retreat at Berchesgarten as it was suspected he was in residence. 150 SQDN was to take part. I hoped and prayed that our crew would be chosen, but it was not to be.

Apparantly, although the place was flattened, only one person was killed.

Blacksheep
14th Sep 2009, 06:56
And what was the tune to that song? So many questions!Try the tune for the RAF Classic, "Chocks Away!"

...with a tooral-aye-torral-aye-tooral-ayeyay!

Union Jack
14th Sep 2009, 09:30
Try the tune for the RAF Classic, "Chocks Away!"

Excuse me, Blacksheep, the tune is actually that of the early Victorian song "Villikins and his Dinah", to which, to quote the Fleet Air Arm Songbook, the original 13 verse A25 song was written by David Wright and Derek Stevenson in "Cabin 75 in the Arab Quarter of HMS FORMIDABLE in 1942/43", before evolving into the later 25 verse edition, as well as a five verse (at least) rotary wing version.

Well done Dave!

Jack

PS And, to be fair to Blacksheep "With a too-ra-li-oo-ra-li-oo-ra-li-a" is indeed the chorus of Villikins! :ok:

GordonPDavis
14th Sep 2009, 16:59
WILEY

You must think I’m going round the bend – sending you the same reply twice! Playing around with the Forum this morning I realised that there was more than one page, 55 in fact.

When I first found this site I read about someone who had sailed on the Queen Mary when Winston Churchill was going to New York. I was also on the Queen and soon after leaving Gourock we learned that Winston was aboard. One day when we were eating in the Dining Hall we were amazed to see some hundred or more German prisoners of war marched in for breakfast! Several weeks later I started flying training at 3 BFTS, Miami, Oklahoma. After flying Fairchild PT 19s we progressed to Harvard AT6s.

Once we had done a solo in the Harvard a RAF Officer told us that there was a German prisoner of war camp in Kansa, some miles north of Miami. On no account were we to fly over the camp and drop empty Coca Cola bottles as they made a whistling noise like a bomb and some of the prisoners were suffering from shell shock. To ensure that we did not ‘accidentally stray’ over the camp we were given its exact map reference!!!

In our crew room there was a machine dispensing refrigerated bottled Coca Cola and next to the machine a large box to contain the empty bottles. Surprisingly there was never an empty bottle to be seen!!! Why the Americans wanted German POWs I can't imagine

Coming back to your question about landing a Seafire I was lucky. My landings were in good weather. I can't remember any turbulence or wind shear from the carrier I was always too busy watching the Batman. A week or two before joining 879 Squadron the guys had been practising deck landings in terrible gusty weather a few miles north of Ceylon. Three Seafires were written off and at least one pilot died.

Dave

JAVELINBOY
14th Sep 2009, 20:33
'Why the Americans wanted German POWs I can't imagine'

Step Father was in the Wehrmacht, Gunsmith based around Brest and shipped off to the States via Liverpool and Canada after being kept in a field in France for about a year.
Once in the States was taken to Virginia and worked in the tobacco fields as a POW later transferred to Fort Knox and used as a lorry driver.
Shipped back to UK and worked at RAF Matlask, Norfolk again driving lorries.
Ended up staying in the UK, his mother wrote and advised him not to return, they lived just outside Dresden and things were not good under the Russians.

GordonPDavis
15th Sep 2009, 16:21
Further browsing revealed that rather than 100, some 5000 German prisoner of war were aboard the Queen Mary together with Winston Churchill and the War Cabinet and ‘yours truly’. Just as well they didn't manage to take over.

Some years after my Coca Cola bombing exploits my feelings about the Germans changed dramatically. I married Doreen Reuter whose grandfather, Heinrich Reuter was born in Heidelberg. More years later, on holiday in Majorca, we became very friendly with a German couple, Herbert and Herta Rickmann who lived in Hamburg. A year later we spent two weeks with them in Hamburg and the following year they stayed with us in England. This carried on for a number of years until Herbert died.

Herbert served in the German navy, a gunner stationed ashore in Bremen. He told me the story of a Bristol Blenheim which regularly circled over Bremen. The Blenheim was probably on reconnaissance and never dropped bombs. In turn, the Germans never fired at the Blenheim and almost looked on it as a welcome visitor!

How times change!

Dave

Mike Read
16th Sep 2009, 08:58
In the 70's BEA had a crew bus driver in Berlin who had been in the German army in N. Africa. He helped a wounded British soldier and took a set of his dogtags. Long after the war his wife found these tags and through the Red Cross established contact with the British chap who was also, coincidentally, a driver. The two families became friends and visited one another.

GordonPDavis
16th Sep 2009, 18:32
From The Concise Oxford Dictionary.

an the form of the indefinite article used before words beginning with a vowel sound (an egg, an hour an MP). I guess therefore an RAF Officer is correct.

Blacksheep
17th Sep 2009, 07:08
An RAF Officer or a Royal Air Force Officer.

...or in more common parlance in my time a Zobbit. ;)

Goosequill
18th Sep 2009, 14:07
Hi All,

Would anyone (but best bet might be Cliff or Reg) be able to tell me a bit about the use of Window during a bombing operation? I understand that the Flight Engineer often had the task of chucking out the bundles (but did anyone else, like the wireless op, ever take a hand?) but I have not really got an understanding of when during the op it was used. I can understand it being dropped at a prescribed rate (four bundles/minute, two bundles/minute has come to my attention) over particular hot flak areas with radar-predicted guns, but was it restricted to these areas? Did any parts of the main force stream take it in turns to chuck it out along the whole route?

Any clues gratefully received...

Cheers,

Dave

regle
18th Sep 2009, 22:23
On July 24th.1943 I made my first operational trip in a Halifax of 51 Sqdn. as "Second Dicky " to F/Lt Irwin. The target was Hamburg and it was the first raid that Window was ever used operationally. It was extremely unusual to make a trip as a second pilot but was occasionally done and , in my case was used because of the difference in operating procedures to my previous low level daylight trips on the first Mosquito sqdn, 105.
We had known of Window for a long time previously to this date but had been stopped from using it until we had gathered enough strength to make it more useful to us than to let the Germans have the use of it. Our Bomber losses had been so great that it was decided to use Window and July 24th. was the first night of what became the terrible firestorm destruction of Hamburg with Bomber Command going by night followed by the American "Mighty Eighth Air Force by day. The effect of Window was devastating to the Defences. The German Radio was assiduously monitored by us and there were arguments springing up between Controllers and the Night Fighters as they were being directed to sectors where there were supposed to be hundreds of bombers and were reporting that they could not find them. There were even accusations recorded of "Cowardice" and German Pilots being told to report immediately to their Commanding Officers on landing. Several reports of the swamped Controllers used foul language just prior to switching off and the equivalent of "What a F...... night this has been " coming over the air from the bewildered Controllers was monitored many times back in England.
The Window was in bundles and we put them down the Flare chute at predetermined locations given to the various Groups at Briefing. I was chucking them down just as we approached the target which was already burning fiercely from the Pathfinder's marking and was visible from over 100 miles away already. Other groups had been putting it down all along the route and the Germans were really caught and were reporting that there were hundreds and hundreds of bombers in the stream.
It was a great success but the counter reaction was swift and cost us very nearly the same as when we had not been using it. They brought the "Wild Sow " scheme in to use and threw up every fighter they had including their Day fighters and concentrated on illuminating the target with masses of searchlights concentrating to make a blanket of light around 15,000 feet. The bombers were silhouetted against the light and the Fighters were up around 25,000 feet and were diving down as they picked up the stream coming over the target.
One of the most effective uses of Window was on the eve of the assault on the beaches on D-Day a few Pathfinder Lancasters gave the Germans the effect of a huge fleet approaching by a beautifully worked out pattern of dropping Window and doubling back to give the impression that this fleet was approaching a different point to the landing at around twenty knots.
It usually fell to the W/Op to chuck the Window out and the Flare Chute was the means of dropping it. The bundles were tied so that the slipstream broke them open as they came out of the aircraft and gave the impression of countless aircraft to the radar. The timing and the position was usually very well planned and each group was given a sector where they were responsible for the Window coverage with the Target being covered by the maximum. For any of you who are old enough to remember making your own paper chains at Xmas, a strip of "Window" was just about the size of one of the links that we used to use for decoration.

I hope that this helps you out as to what it was like. It certainly made the continuation of the Bombing of Germany possible.

Union Jack
18th Sep 2009, 23:01
Any clues gratefully received....

John 16:24 .... and what do you get? Regle comes up trumps yet again, complete with a George Formby-esque title too!

Jack

Buster11
19th Sep 2009, 11:15
As one who lived in a small village on the Hampshire/Surrey border and was, indeed, making Christmas chains from window in 1943 or '44 I recall occasionally finding un-cut rolls maybe a couple of inches in diameter. Would there have been any on-board system for cutting the foil to the optimum quarter-wave lengths according to the radar frequency to be jammed?

I also remember sometimes finding foil strips that were matte black and thus useless for Christmas decorations. Any ideas where these might have originated?

Buster11

regle
19th Sep 2009, 18:06
I think that the mere idea of cutting up Window to measure in a weaving aircraft at night with the flak and searchlights all around ! ... No way and possibly the following detailed description that I found from my Squadron's (51) Official Biographer's excellent book "Snaith Days" will bring out a very good description of "Window" and how it was used.

During the third week of July 1943 a large consignment of brown paper parcels size 12 x 2.5 x 2.5 inches was under very secure storage at Snaith
These parcels each contained 2,000 Window strips size 30cm x 1.5cm made of very thin aluminium foil bonded to black paper. Later production of Window was 27cm long with a brown paper backing. Foil was already available for the production of paper capacitators used in radios etc. The length of these strips was such that they acted as half wave dipoles resonating and re-radiating a signal at the frequency of 450 to 500 MHz as employed by "Wurzburg" ground and "Lichenstein" airborne radar. One bundle when dropped from a Squadron aircraft would produce the same radar response as a Halifax Bomber.
At around teatime on the 23rd July 1943 the aircrew went in for briefing for the raid on Hamburg. At this session the briefing was given by the Squadron Commander W/Cdr. Franks and gave information that had never been given before at a Command briefing. He explained that this new RDF countermeasure ,"Window" had such a devastating effect on the enemy's ground defences that the RAF had witheld from using it until they , the RAF , had devised a defence for it. ( We were never told what that "Defence" was !).
At their briefing, the Navigators were given two points on their track at which Window dropping had to start and stop. This night the points were Long. 8 degrees East on the route in and Long 8.5 degrees East on the way back. ( A chart of the route in the book gave the Northerly routes in and out and were roughly over the North Sea stretch that led into the Delta of the River Elbe leading up to Hamburg and avoiding the defences of the Friesian Islands.) The W/Ops had the unpopular task of timing and dropping the bundles down the flare chutes at the rate of one bundle per minute. Each aircraft dropped 100,000 strips, falling at the rate of about 300 ft.per minute. It was not a popular task because the strips were often blown back into the aircraft and also there was the chance of the stub aerial of the IFF being damaged by the bundle before it had opened.
When the bundles were delivered to the aircraft by the groundcrew they were given the story that they were a new type of "Nickel", the code name for the propaganda leaflets dropped when the bomb doors were opened over the target.
The convergence point for the different Groups of Aircraft taking part in the raid marked the spot where the dropping of Window commenced and the complete bomber stream for this raid was about 200 miles long.
The effect of the strips became apparent straight away as the searchlights seemed to be aimlessly probing the sky looking for targets, different from the normal situation when Wurzburg controlled searchlights could help the uncontrolled searchlights find the target (The "dreaded" blue beam ! Reg). The now uncontrolled Flak batteries became very inaccurate in their shooting. In order to assess the effect of Window on this initial raid the Wops were told not to carry out "Tinsel" jamming operations so that the "Y" listening service in the UK could monitor the reactions of the German GCI controllers. Window did not affect "Freya" E W Radar but it jammed Wurzburg which was used with the "Lichenstein " in the Fighters to guide them on to the trapped Bombers. Their reports indicated that a state of complete panic had reigned with Pilots calling the Controllers Imbeciles when they were directed on to hundreds of Bombers and found none. There were even cases of Aircraft crews ordered to report to their Commanders immediately upon landing ; The word "Cowardice" was reputed to be heard floating around
the air waves and one weary Controller when switching off his set was heard to say the German equivalent for "What a F****** night this has been.!
The report goes on to explain that the use of "Window" was to produce a considerable reduction in casualties from about 6% average for the Command before the use of Window to about 2.5% for the Hamburg raids. The Germans attempted to limit the effects of Window by getting the GCI controllers to give running commentaries to night fighters and to start using "Thame Sau" ( Tame Sow dayfighters) to take part in freelance operations alongside the existing "Wilde Sau" aircraft. These tactics caused the Luftwaffe to alter their defence tactics with increased flexibility and , very quickly, it was considered that these changes would be to the detriment of the RAF. However it was used very successfully on the important destruction of the Peenemunde raid , on which I took part and the SQdn's route out was Flamborough Head;55.20N 80.29E;54.24N13.40E; Island of Rugen; Peenemunde; Mando; Snaith. Bomber Command had carried out a very successful diversionary operation by sending eight Mosquitos to Berlin with "Window", capitalising on it's successful raid on Hamburg. This "Spoof" raid attracted the attention of over 200 nightfighters ,conseqently only a few arrived at Peenemunde to catch the last wave of bombers. Nevertheless 29 aircraft were shot down in the bright moonlit sky of the last wave out of a total of 40 aircraft lost. As 51 Sqdn. was in the first wave it suffered no losses and I see that I put in my Log Book the words.."Very Quiet trip". The raid was considered a succcess and the "V" weapon programme was put back for about two months.

I hope that some of the Questions that you asked were answered and the use of "Window" understood more readily. Reg

Warmtoast
20th Sep 2009, 22:38
Reg

Thanks for your explanation of Window.

I have a copy of a paper written by Prof RV Jones recording his views on the development and introduction of Window between 1942 and 1943.

Useful background knowledge perhaps so possibly worth posting here, or will it dilute the discussion?

Any thoughts?

Tyres O'Flaherty
20th Sep 2009, 23:22
Reg

Thanks for that.

Just an appreciation of what both my grandfathers did, much appreciated. That's why I enjoy you and Cliff's stories, but also your stories about after with Sabena, very much.

Brilliant, please carry on!.

But I hope we'll also have other contributors like Gordon P Davis. (Carrier landings !?)

Goosequill
21st Sep 2009, 06:40
Hi Reg,

A slightly belated (away the last two days) thanks for your very full and highly informative posts on the use of Window. Window is mentioned briefly in so many places; books, web, etc. but I had never found an answer to the obvious questions the use of it raised - so thanks very much for answering these, and much more - very much appreciated!

I assume that there had to be an oxygen point by the flare chute if some (temporarily) spare bod was going to be bunging the bundles down for long periods at a time. When moving around a Lanc at operational height, perhaps from the w/op point to the chute, did people always use one of the small oxygen bottles in case they encountered a short delay? (Getting over the wings spars in full kit might qualify as being that...) And did the bottles just dangle or had some thoughtful equipment designer found a way of hanging them on the user?!

Cheers,

Dave

regle
21st Sep 2009, 10:53
Just a quick answer to your question, Goosequill. I don't think that the use of oxygen poihts was extended to the flare chute position but the DI's and the pre-flight checks by the various trades included the topping up ,by the Instrument section, of the in-situ bottles of Oxygen and Nitrogen (if installed. A 'milk run' wpould deliver a fresh stock of portable Oxygen bottles, often accompanied by the 'daily deliveries' of propaganda leaflets and Window strips. As an interesting 'aside', the Electrical section would check that the accumulators were fully charged abd sometimes stored the connecting leads in their workshop so that they could not be used without permission. If a short to earth was spotted on any of the ancillary equipment,e.g. Radar sets, they would notify the approprate tradesman who would rectify the fault. With regard to the Radar at the appropriate time the detonators would be installed so that the equipment could be destroyed if likely to fall into enemy hands. More Sabena soon, Regle

cliffnemo
22nd Sep 2009, 15:19
I have just returned from the Republic of the East Riding, after spending a few very pleasant days there. Talk about the return of the ‘Prodigal Son’ Well that’s my excuse for not replying to Gordon P Davis, so a belated reply.

An excellent post Gordon, It seems we had similar experiences, but I am sure you will be able to fill in a lot of blanks. So. Please, let us have more posts. For instance I had forgotten about the dropping of Coke bottles, only remembered toilet rolls. Landing a Seafire on an aircraft carrier very interesting. Do you know anything about the Hurricane pilots who were catapulted of merchant ships during the Russian convoy voyages and how when they finally ditched survival time in the freezing water was only seconds ? What did we do whilst wasting our time at Harrogate etc ? More please. Whilst on the subject. Pulse1 I think we would all like to have some info from your friend the WOP/AG, Perhaps you would be good enough to ask him questions and publish here. And Trevor, perhaps you could carry on with the Peter Brett story which so far has been very interesting. Which reminds me Trevor, the attachment you sent me , the pic of 5 I.T.W, downloaded as a word document ( .word) and not as a pic. If you would like me to post it, then could you try again ?

I think Reg has covered the Windows subject a lot better than I could , but was mystified by the statement that the W.O.P dropped the Window. However I soon realised he was talking about the Halifax. In the Lancaster the Window Shute was to the right of the flight engineers right foot, and to a certain degree the silver paper was sucked out of the Shute. In fact this suction effect was present when a cockpit window was opened also, as I learnt when I was map reading and the map suddenly on it’s own accord ,shot out ot the open window. And GOOSEQUILL again in the Lancaster as the F.E sat in his own (primitive) seat he remained plugged in to his usual oxygen supply point. We did all have portable oxy bottles, which I have mentioned before, see my post re visit to the Elsan. Think they did clip to our chute harness , but as usual, not sure. Whilst visiting over the Pennines I visited John ,he of the Halifax rebuild, and he said the windows shute was half way down the fuselage on the Stbd side, this would account for it being the job of the WOP on a Halifax. Incidentally he said it was the last thing he fitted on the Elvington Halifax.
Corny wartime joke. Did you hear about the airman who heard his wife was having an affair. He obtained compassionate leave . Went home by helicopter.

Goosequill
22nd Sep 2009, 16:52
Hi Cliff,

Aha! I think you have just solved a mystery, probably brought about by loose descriptions in the biographies etc. There was a honking great flare chute in the rear of the Lanc, or at least some of them (seen the pics) and I think that some authors have concluded this was also used for window. But your mention of the mini chute next to the FE is not the first time I had heard of this. So, unless there was some huge difference between the marks of Lanc, with some not having the FE chute, then I think that solves the issue.

Reg, I have just dug out a reference to the Lanc oxy system - apparently there was a point by the 'flare station' but from what you say, no-one ever wanted to be there!

Cheers,

Dave

Icare9
23rd Sep 2009, 12:00
Hi, Reg, nice to hear from you, and a question (or two): Many of the Heavy Bomber raids were assisted by Mosquitos dropping Window to give the impression of the Main Force stream heading to another target to distract fighters away from the intended target.

I always thought that the Mossie cockpit was a snug fit, so do you know how they managed to drop their bundles of Window at the required set intervals? I visualise the bundles as being a bit bulky so moving around without "irritating" the pilot must have been extremely difficult. Was it possible just to toss them out of the window (no pun intended:O) rather than feed them down a flare chute?

There must also have been occasions when following bombers trying to shake off fighters or flak flew through the window strips. Can you recall any such incidents, as I assume they wouldn't cause intakes to clog, just catch on any protusions. I'm just wondering if in that case the radar signal would be enhanced, giving night fighters a better signal to home in on.

I also see your old girlfriend Vera made it into the charts, pity she's not getting royalties as it's so long out of copyright!!

Look forward (as do we all) to hearing more of Sabena shortly, too
All the best, chin up lad!!

GordonPDavis
23rd Sep 2009, 12:16
No, afraid I know nothing about the Hurricane pilots during Russian convoy voyages but when you mentioned survival time of a few seconds in the freezing water it reminded me of an incident when I doing my first deck landings. One of our group was Johnny Wright. Johnny was making a good approach but was still some hundred yards behind the carrier. Despite the Batman’s frantic signals to increase power and gain some height Johnny ignored the Batman and landed in the sea. It was reckoned that a Seafire would only stay afloat some six or seven seconds – Johnny was out in three seconds! After a medical and a Court of Enquiry, the Powers that Be decided Johnny (with a bit more practice) didn’t need a Batman and he was posted to Malta to help trainee Batmen learn the job.

Going back to those boring days in Harrogate I remember being posted to Brough, E. Yorkshire for another three weeks in Tiger Moths. Now Brough was where I did my first solo and a Flight Sergeant there had us all on parade and told us to remove our cap badges to see if we had polished the back of the badges. Most of them were a delicate shade of green! Arriving at Brough for the second time we were greeted by the same Flight Sergeant. That night I told everyone about the cap badges and we all assiduously polished the back of our badges. Sure enough the Flight Sergeant had us on parade the next morning and told us to remove our badges. He just couldn’t understand it when the back of ever badge glittered in the sun.

Another posting from Harrogate was to RAF Melbourne, Yorkshire. Three weeks sitting in a caravan near the start of the runway. RAF Melbourne was a bomber station flying Halifaxes and was one of a few airfields equipped with FIDO, a fog dispersal system. FIDO was a system of pipes along the side of the runway filled with petrol which when lit cleared the runway to a height of some three hundred feet. Once an aircraft had landed it was guided to a dispersal point by a tractor with a large sign on the back –FOLLOW ME. One day I was cycling around the airfield and there in a ditch was our tractor. All that could be seen was the sign – FOLLOW ME!

When full the FIDO system contained 500,000 gallons of petrol! Petrol was ordered on a form that asked for the required quantity of petrol to be entered in units of 1000 gallons. It must have been a new lad in the office – instead of asking for 500 units of petrol he entered the full amount 500,000 units (500,000000 gallons). I believe someone must have realised the error before a vast fleet of petrol tankers descended upon us!!!

Yes Harrogate was boring but some of the postings had amusing moments.

Dave

regle
23rd Sep 2009, 13:28
I can't help you there, Icare9. I only flew the Mosquito on low level daylight raids and couldn'' tell you whether a flare chute was included in the later versions. There must have been , however, as they played such a big part , later, in the PFF and had to drop all sorts of various pyrotechnical gadgets. I am sure that someone will know for certain how the window was dropped. One thing, discount opening windows in any aircraft....You just don't do it if you can help it.. We once jammed the sodden skirt of one of the Stewardesses who had spilt coffee all over it, into the slipstream of the D.C.3 and gravely handed her the remaining waistband a few minutes later. Another time we had the task of scattering the ashes of a fallen colleague from the chute of a Wimpy and were combing them out of our hair for a long time afterwards.
Apropos the position of the flare chute in the Halifax I learned from my "Bible", " Snaith Days" that the Flare Chute was displaced later in the Halifax 3's by a V shaped chute expressly designed for Window and placed around the starboard at the side of the W/Op. It was also , very quickly , found that it could be used as a quick relief chute for liquids until the W/Op's began to get "Blowbacks" of Window that had become soaked by the previous use and a deterrent was devised. (A sort of minor rabbit trap ?).
As to the effect of flying through Window , I never experienced it and I never heard of any incidents even of strips being found in or around engines but I am sure that it must have happened.

Blacksheep
24th Sep 2009, 11:25
Later, as technology advanced in the fifties and sixties, window was carried in dispensers we called "Window Boxes" with each containing window that jammed a particular frequency band. We'd station a chap outside, equipped with a dustbin lid borrowed from the flight hut, to catch them before they burst open. I once dropped two packets of window on OC Eng Wing who, being typically nosy, was attracted by the noise and wanted to see what it was. He ended up completely covered in a mass of very finely-cut X-band window and would have made a fabulous Xmas decoration for the Officers' Mess.

regle
24th Sep 2009, 12:02
We soon found that dining at the canteen was no hardship. A great steak and chips was fourteen francs (Our daily allowance was 40B.Frs and there were about 140 B.Frs. to the £ at that time.) We quickly learned to dip the magnificent Belgian chips in mayonnaise instead of ketchup... As long as you kept a small piece of meat on your plate to show that you had bought a main course you could go back for as many chips as you liked . This practice, "Frites a volonte", existed in most of the many good cheap restaurants to be found in the Brussel's department stores such as Innovation, Galeries Anspach and Au Bon Marche. Half a dozen Oysters with a glass of wine, bread and butter would cost fifteen francs at any of those places. We were staying at the very comfortable Palace Hotel but could not afford to repeat our first meal experience there so were lucky to find a Cafe, just opposite, run by an Englishman, Ken Hancock,who had stayed on after the war and married a Belgian,Adele, who was now his partner in running what became our home from home. For 30 B.Frs. each evening, most of us would sit down to a giant meal of soup, steak, mushrooms and chips with all the rolls and best farm butter that we could eat. Later, when Dora and the family came to join me the, biggest treat for the children would be to go to Hancocks for a meal where they would be treated like Royalty and we would safely leave them there whilst we went shopping. They would play happily on the football machine and it was always the first choice for birthday treats for many years. When our fourth child, Susan, but always known as Feeka was born in 1956 we would leave her, quite contentedly in her cot on one of the benches under the care of Adele and Ken. Sadly, the cafe was pulled down to make way for a giant car park next to the "Bon Marche". Ken became the Chef at the very popular English tea rooms in the English shop W.H.Smiths. Once ,Dora and I were having tea there and I went to the very old fashioned toilet upstairs. It was an "Unisex" one with a small half size urinal on the wall and a closet to which I hied myself. When I came out, to my amazement there was a woman perched precariously on the urinal with her knickers around her ankles. I could only mutter "Bon Jour" and hurry out.
We had been joined by other British Pilots and were about seventeen on the course together with some Belgian trainees , mostly ex-Belgian Air Force. One of the British pilots had arrived at Melsbroek dressed in a pinstripe morning suit, bowler hat and tightly rolled umbrella. A porter said to him in English "Are these your bags Sir ? " and our pilot pointed his umbrella at him and said in pure Oxford tones "How did you know I was English ?"
More soon. My Finger is tired. Regle

regle
24th Sep 2009, 16:26
I never realised that Window went on until the 50's and 60's, Blacksheep, or had it now become "Chaff". I also thought that the bundles opened in the slipstream so did not understand how you could catch them ?

On with Sabena; We soon made many friends and everyone spoke and was happy to speak English. Virtually every Belgian pilot who had escaped to England had become a Fighter pilot and the "Esprit du Corps" and comradeship was very much in evidence. Throughout my long career ...thirty years.. with Sabena, I, and all the other British pilots ,were treated exactly the same as the Belgian pilots. Promotion to bigger and better aircraft came on Seniority, irrespective of Nationality, and this was meny years before the European Union came into being. We were issued with Work permits and these, by Belgian Law, could not be repealed on any grounds except the obvious ones of grave misdemeanour etc. We were never asked to change our Nationality nor was language ever a problem. Every Belgian seemed to speak at least four languages and loved the opportunity to speak English, so that our efforts to speak French---Flemish was beyond most of us with one notable exception....went unheeded. Despite this our ground course was conducted entirely in French which led to some very lively sessions but our Belgian co-students would always come to the rescue if the Instructor struggled and it was surprising how much French that we had learned by the end of our surprisingly interesting and well presented six weeks course.
To celebrate the successful completion, by all of us, of our course the Chief Pilot for Europe, Peter Dils, a Fighter Pilot D.F.C. invited us to join him in a night out at the "Maison des Ailes", the Headqurters of the Belgian Airline Pilots Association. It began with a noisy, beery session around the piano where we sang all the old songs such as "Bless em all" etc. most of which were well known to the Belgians. "Craven A" was, surprisingly, not and was encored several times. We were very surprised to learn that, in Belgium anyway, the obvious "White Cliffs of Dover " was not regarded as being typically English and "My Bonnie Lies OVer The Ocean" was virtually regarded as the National Anthem and was sung at the least excuse. Even when having a quiet drink in a pub, if you were heard speaking English, immediately the strains of "bring back, bring back..." etc. would waft over the air. and free drinks would follow .
The "Maison des Ailes" was a stone's throw from the Night Club and Entertainment quarter around the Porte de Louise. We moved on to one of the smaller bars where we were having a quieter drink with Peter Dils and another Chief Pilot , Paul Leva, who with his English Wife, Pat, was to become amongst our greatest friends. Paul had been a Spitfire pilot and one of his achievements was to down a V1 (Hitler's robot flying bomb) by formating on it and then tipping it over with his wingtip as he had used all his ammunition. We were standing at the bar when the street door burst open and in rushed a short, well padded little man who put his fingers to his lips and dived around and hid under the bar. Immediately afterwards, two big Gendarmes came in, looked us all over carefully and then departed. The rotund figure emerged "Now that they've gone " he said "The drinks are on me ". This was our introduction to Freddy Moreau. He and Jeff, his brother, had escaped to join the RAF and had both married English girls. The two Brothers were now Sabena Captains. Evidently Freddy had been "spending a penny (or centime?)" on a corner of the Ave.Louise when the Gendarmes had seen him. We wondered what Freddy had done to deserve being chased for this was a common sight in Belgium in those days. Perhaps it was because the Ave. Louise was not the sort of place to do that sort of thing as it was, and is, the most distinguished street in Brussels.
Freddy was one of the characters of Sabena. Only a couple of years later, Freddy was driving up the Rue Neuve, which was one of the main shopping streets, and was stopped by a Gendarme who pointed out that he was driving the wrong way up a very narrow one way street. " I always do something stupid when I am pi...d " said Freddy. Even up to 1967 there was no such thing as a driving licence in Belgium. Anyone could buy a car of any horsepower and take it straight out of the showroom. This, coupled with the absolute "Priorite de droit " which gave traffic on the right absolute priority irrespective of the importance of the road on which you were driving, led to the mayhem that ruled the roads at that time. To make it worse, the ubiquitous Tram had absolute priority over all other vehicles. Descending the Rue da la Loi which had double tramlines in the middle and was the busiest road in the Capital, was like the Chariot race in "Ben Hur where there was no quarter asked or given and came down to survival of the fittest.
Freddy was hauled into Court and , as there was no licence, was forbidden to "exercise the right to control petrol driven machines for six months" This embraced motor cars, even lawn mowers and, alas, aeroplanes. Sabena gave him six months leave so he decided to visit his Wife's parents in England. His Father in Law was doing the "Pools" one day. "Come on, Freddy, he said. "Give me eight numbers " Freddy did and they were all draws (They did'nt have to be Score Draws in those days) and he won a huge amount of money. One of the first things that he did was to seek out the Gendarme that had arrested him and take him for a night out that nearly got them both in prison.

I had been fortunate in finding a very nice little unfurnished house to rent in a district called Evere, quite near to the aerodrome. It was small but had three bedrooms and was near to schools, shops and the trams into town. Buying a car was a long way off as we had to furnish the house from top to bottom. The Westminster Bank had long been established in Brussels and I made an appointment to see the Manager, Mr. Lowe. He turned out to be a Fellow Lancastrian of the old breed of Bank managers. When I told him that I needed a loan of Two Hundred Pounds to furnish the house , he took me to a nearby Bar called the "Bodega" and there, over a few beers, we discussed everything except the loan. After about half an hour one of the bank employees came in and handed him an envelope which Mr. Lowe gave me to me and said "Theers your money, Lad and Good Luck." I always had a good rapport with the Bank. When Mr. Lowe retired he was replaced with a Mr. Oxley . Many, many times I would receive statements sent to me erroneously by the Bank which were those of other customers sometimes showing overdrafts of huge amounts. I would ring Mr. Oxley and say "Your people have made a b...'s of it again and that would be good enough for a slap up lunch where I would discreetly return the statements.


All this talk of drinking .... I am going for a cup of tea. I hope that you are enjoying my recalling of those wonderful nostalgic days as much as I enjoy relating them Regle.

Molemot
24th Sep 2009, 16:40
Fascinating stuff, Regle...keep up the good work!! I, too, have fond memories of "real" bank managers...a certain Mr. Humby who, during a little local financial difficulty, told me "We certainly won't force you to sell your aeroplane"...for which we were VERY grateful!! These days it's all computers and rules and nothing about judgement at all.

GordonPDavis
25th Sep 2009, 18:30
Without doubt the Spitfire and its sea borne counterpart the Seafire were great aircraft but they had their faults. Forward visibility was poor, the wheelbase was very narrow, they were not suitable for night flying and they were unhappy when not air borne. Great care had to be taken when taxiing to the take off point. Cooling was non-existent on the ground and after a couple of minutes taxiing the engine coolant boiled and the flight had to be aborted. Although the Seafire was strengthened it wasn’t really up to the thumps of a heavy deck landing. Naturally, the taxiing problem didn’t apply on a carrier but for some time our squadron was stationed ashore in Ceylon (as it was then) and the heat of Ceylon made things difficult: -

With thanks to Dave McIntosh

John Robertson of North Bend, B.C (British Columbia), recounts that in 1944 one jungle airstrip in Ceylon was so hot that naval aircraft overheated as they taxied to the runway for takeoff. So they were towed to the takeoff point.
Admiral Lord Louis Mountbatten arrived one day for a squadron inspection
" What is your operational strength?" he asked.
"Twelve Seafires and one elephant, sir" said the C.O.
This was a new one to Mountbatten.
"How fast does an elephant go?" he asked
"About 3 knots, sir" said the C.O. and pointed to the runway. Sarah was just ambling up to the takeoff point with a Seafire on tow.

Dan Winterroll
26th Sep 2009, 20:01
Guys please keep posting, your posts are great fun and most informative.

Dan :)

cliffnemo
27th Sep 2009, 11:21
Look forward (as do we all) to hearing more of Sabena shortly

HEAR, HEAR OR SHOULD i SAY "AMEN TO THAT" ?
.
REGLE I am sure we are all enjoying th Sabena story so please keep it going, and more from Gordon please. Just wondering, does any one belong to the Aircew Association , if any one does , or has a friend, how about recruiting some other ‘trades’ Navs, Wops Gunners etc ? I ,certainly, would be pleased to hear of their experiences, and respectfully suggest that if they are not computer nerds, then you could do the posting for them.

Thanks for the comments DAN (winter roll) this thread would not have carried on for so long, if it wasn’t for the contributions like yours.

With regards to the Window subject, we also referred to it as Chaf, and remember it measured about 12” x2.5” as previously mentioned. Possibly 3” thick and held together by a brown paper band. Not sure but would imagine the Nav stored it under his chart table, and as he sat just behind me, would pass each bundle to me. I would then tear of the wrapping and drop the whole bundle into the Window chute. I never heard of the strips clogging up air intakes in following aircraft.

My question to Gordon about catapult/Hurricanes on the Russian convoys was prompted by his reference to ship borne aircraft. Seemed to remember some reports about the pilots having to ditch in the sea. Evidently they were dead when picked up from the freezing water. To overcome this problem I think it was decided to launch the rescue boat before the aircraft ditched, but not sure if this was successful .

Back to Hemswell.
I think we were awaiting posting to the Far East, when it was announced that we would be would be flying to Italy on Operation Python Leave . This consisted of flying to Pomigliano near Naples, a day of R & R then return to Glatton near Peterboro with twenty soldiers, who would be on leave for one week, after which we would take off from Hemswell, land at Glatton, collect the twenty soldiers , and return them to Pomigliano.
No parachutes would be carried or worn to give the soldiers confidence?
After this we would have a week off then repeat the operation . The day arrived with every one in high spirits at the thought of sight seeing, Naples, Ruins of Pompeii . Salerno, and Sorrento.. The whole squadron took off heading for TouloN, then set course, passing over Corsica for Naples. We all landed , with aircraft from other squadrons, and were then transported in three tonners to the Hotel Belle Vista at Torre Anunziata. . .Belle Vista , yes, but Hotel ? No internal toilets, walls cracked, and plaster missing, odd windows boarded up, but we didn’t care it was very sunny, clear skies, a good view of Vesuvius, the Bay of Naples, swimming in the Med, and plenty of places to be explored. The Italians explained the toilets didn’t work because we had destroyed all the sewers. Some of the less responsible airmen, however were disappointed ( the black marketeers ) as the only items available were ,wine, cameo broaches, grapes, peaches and oranges. On every street corner were youngsters, calling ‘hey Johnny any pounds’ , but it was decided to use the ‘pounds to purchase the cameos, wine, and fruit, as these were in very short supply or none existent in the U.K. The purchases were hidden in the aircraft, hoping the customs officers wouldn’t find them on arrival at Glatton. However, on arrival at Glatton it was pandemonium , with a heavy bomber landing, or taking off every minute., A frantic customs officer whizzing along on a bike shouting up to an open cockpit window “anything to declare” making a note in a book, then pedalling furiously to the next aircraft before it got away That evening back at Hemswell , in the mess the sole topic of conversation was the setting up an import export business.
http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/POMIGLIANO169-1.jpg
Gothard Fox (IQ FOX) GOTHARD ***** was the call sign for Hemswell. 150 Sqd, i.e Gothard Fox Funnels.
A picture of our Lancaster with crew and soldiers, note it is parked on hard sun baked soil, a thing never seen in the U.K as they would immediately ‘bog down’,

I have just noticed on Face book that Puala K. Denson , who wrote the book ‘The R.A.F in Oklahoma’ is at the moment visiting Lincoln. Paula who is a ‘Friend of 6 B.F.T.S ‘ is also a reader of PPrUNE. Welcome to England Paula, and I hope you have a pleasant visit.
--------------------------------------------------------------FACE BOOK---------------------------
Paula K. Denson
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Paula K. Denson Had a great day in Lincoln, England. The walk was invigorating, the castle interesting, and one of the first places where there was Christianity in England! Lots of interesting Roman ruins here too!
Thu at 5:02pm · Comment · Like
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For any one who like me , who is 'Dim as a Toc H lamp. He came home by HELL he copt her.

regle
28th Sep 2009, 15:17
Q. What is a Forum ? Ans. Quote ...Oxford Dictionary...Forum. A place of or meeting for discussion.....etc. Q. What is Discussion ? A. A Conversation on different subjects. and what is needed for any Conversation ? More than two people !!!


Forgive me for blowing my top !! I just wanted to address myself to those of you who are ...may I say it ? Intelligent, reasonable, interested and extremely knowledgeable people of all ages and interests who would make very welcome contributions to this great Forum and either say, "Great, keep it up " but probably more often , say to themselves "Yes, that takes me back to.." and does absolutely Sweet Fanny Adams about it. I stress that I am not addressing this to the numerous splendid originators and commentators on such good subjects and discoveries that have been aired here....Just a polite thought to the hundreds of you who have always wanted to put your thoughts and experiences to others but have been too timid or self deprecating or too uncertain of your own ability (as I was) or just too darn lazy ?
There are people recently, such as GordonPDavis who have started to make outstanding and such interesting contributions and they are to be highly commended and encouraged by showing your interest and that can only be done by telling them and asking questions or offering comments.
There, I've got it off my chest so like Delia Smith at Carrow Rd. after a rather liquid consuming half-time said over T.V. "Let's be 'aving yer!" Regle

thegypsy
28th Sep 2009, 15:24
regle check your PM's

Have you ever heard of German fighters shooting at bombers wings and giving time for the crew to parachute out before finishing the aircraft off as has been suggested to me by a german researcher talking to some nightfighter pilots from WW11?

cliffnemo
28th Sep 2009, 16:52
that have been aired here....Just a polite thought to the hundreds of you who have always wanted to put your thoughts and experiences to others but have been too timid or self deprecating or too uncertain of your own ability (as I was) or just too darn lazy ?

Well said REG, I couldn't have put it so eloquently, I was initially very uncertain, only having had a technical education, and certainly not known for my journalistic ability However I was encouraged by people who had fathers , uncles etc, who had been in aircrew during the War, and wanted to know about the minutiae, not to mention the encouraging P.Ms I received.
Also , as I have given all my memorabilia to my grandson (thirteen), and noting the high price on Ebay of memorabilia when supported by information on the original owner, I decided a print out, of my contribution, would enhance the value of the memorabilia. If he keeps it for a few more years it should appreciate in value.

Finally I thought, I don't care any more, publish and be damned .

So as Reg and Delia said " Lets be avin yer"

regle
28th Sep 2009, 18:45
I ,personally, only encountered the chivalry of the German Pilot who formated below my port wingtip (carefully ahead putting the wing between himself and the midupper gunner) when completing my bombing run over a blazing German city and, shrugging his shoulders, pointed to his guns and shook his head, stuck his thumb up and half rolled and dived away. ( I have related this in more detail in a previous post). I haven't heard of the act that you described but the chivalry between the respective Air forces during the African Campaign was legendary as was that between the Eighth Army and the Afrika Corps.

Us Liverpudlians have to stick together, Cliff. I have also furnished my family with my memoirs but never realised that it might even help them financially. I suppose,like most of us, we just don't want to be forgotten so what better way than to dive in here and share those experiences with all of us and we can join in. The water's luvly and warm, Regle

Union Jack
28th Sep 2009, 20:11
..... we just don't want to be forgotten - Regle

And thankfully, there's absolutely no chance of that that thanks to your, Cliff's, and now GordonPDavis's, marvellous contributions - living history.

My very best wishes to you all, Gentlemen - may you and those whom we hope will respond to your exhortations keep them coming for a very long time to come.

Jack

Icare9
29th Sep 2009, 07:38
Standing ovation, Reg: Absolutely spot on.
This must be one of the most read threads currently on the Forum.
I come from a generation whose parents had obviously lived through and served in the Second World War. Would they talk about it? No, only on the very rare occasions when an old mate came by, and a few beers had flowed. Even then it was mostly self deprecating stuff, too much to drink, fell asleep in the sun, badly sunburnt when woke up, learning to drive in the desert and hitting the only tree.

Now they are gone and trying to build a picture of them, these memories aren't sufficient.

What Cliff and Reg provide is the full colour version of what went on in wartime, how people tried to cope and what they had to endure. That they came through is a testament to their ability to take the knocks of life intensified a hundredfold, and makes todays "Nanny State" appear totally lacking in understanding that every day you live actually gets you one day closer to death, whatever you do, so you may as well make the most of it.

So, please, as Reg says, if you know of anyone who served and has a good recollection of their time, PLEASE put it on paper. I could pass Reg or Cliff in the street and never know what they did, but having shared some of their experiences I can only admire the RAF for its wonderful training that produced such excellent people. It makes me more determined to ensure that those that didn't make it should be always remembered, there but for Fate, would be Cliff or Reg.

I'm sure that post war training was just as rigorous, but also there was the "Work hard, play hard" aspect that sadly seems to be in decline now. People can't be seen to be having fun, must be some misery guts just wanting to make one criticism and everybody stops what was perfectly harmless high spirits.

I respect and admire our Armed Forces and the job they do with always the piece of kit that was vitally needed for the last "problem" but is b*ggerall use now. It's the self serving politicians that turn my stomach.

So, let's have the clean air of wonderful memories wafting through this thread. Please, do try. Cliff and Reg may have set the standard high, but ALL are welcome.

I'd be very interested in what training a gunner had to go through and how they managed on the bombing missions in all kinds of weather. It wasn't just the pilot and Flight Engineer, on board, so where the h*ll are the rest of the crew??? Come on lads, share the load and let us know what life was like for you..

thegypsy
29th Sep 2009, 08:57
Regle

I have just noticed that a large group of Mosquito Pilots and Navigators are going to be at the De Havilland Centre 4th October. If you go to Mosquito Aircraft Museum - de Havilland Aircraft Heritage Centre (http://www.dehavillandmuseum.co.uk) you will see who is attending. Your name is missing!!! " Let's be 'aving yer"

BEagle
29th Sep 2009, 18:15
I only flew the Mosquito on low level daylight raids

Only? ONLY??

Such modesty is rare in this day and age, regrettably.

Icare9
29th Sep 2009, 18:31
These are the likely attendees.
Flt Lt Ken Tempest DFC 139 Sqn. P
Flt Lt Mike Randles 540 PRU N
Flt Lt Reg Davy 139, 627 Sqns N
Sgt Geoff Hewes 264 Sqn P
Sgt Ted Barff AFM P
Flt Lt Terry Clarke DFM 219 Sqn, N
Flt Lt Ken Hillings 613, 109 Sqn's N
Flt Lt Julian Alderton 45Sqdn, P
Flt Lt Geoffrey Goodman 544 PRU, P
Flt Lt Doug Gregory DFC 141 Sqn. P
Flt Lt Doug Chapman 487 Sqn. RNZAF N
Flt Lt George Mahony 82 Sqn P.
Flt Lt George Cash DFC 139 Sqn, 1409 Met N
Flying Off Charles Parker DFM 128, 163 Sqn's N
WO Dick Maywood 608, 692 Sqn's N
Flt Lt Ted Dunford DFC 608 Sqn P
Flt Lt Des Curtis DFC 248 Sqn P
Flt Lt Brian Harris DFC 627 Sqn N
Sqn Ldr Ian Linney OBE, DL 107 Sqn N
Flying Off Ron Green 305 Sqn, P
Cpt Eric M. Brown CBE, DSC, AFC, RN P
Sqn Ldr John Brown DFC 23 Sqn P
Air Cdre Ted Sismore DSO DFC 2 Bars AFC 110,105, 139, 21 Sqn's (subject to health). N
Sqn Ldr Tom Bennett DFM 49, 617 Sqns N
Flt Lt Ed Boulter DFC 128, 163 Sqns P
Flt Lt Doug Hadland 162, 692 Sqns N
Flt Lt Benjamin Bent Battle of Britain DFC 25 Sqn P
Flt Lt Eric Atkins DFC(Bar), KW(Bar) 305, 139, 114, 464 Sqns P
Sqn Ldr Joe Patient DFC 139 Sqn, 1409 Met Flt P
Flt Lt John Bulmer 613 Sqn N
Flt Lt Walter Midwood 418 Sqn RCAF N
Flt Off Reg Negus 305 Sqn N
Air Cdre John Ellacombe DFC(Bar) 151, 487 Sqn's P
Flt Lt George Burns 29 Sqn N
Flt Lt Trevor Lawman 211 Sqn P

Sorry about the length but I note that there is a 105 Sqdn potential attendee, Air Cdre Ted Sismore, as well as the renowned Captain Eric Brown.
Of course, Reg, knowing your career, you may know more than these!! (Probably you taught Ted a thing or two, and he owes his high rank to your instructions!!)

Cheers, Kevin

regle
29th Sep 2009, 22:07
Thank you all for your interest. I am very touched by it, and I am tentatively thinking of going on Sunday if my very dodgy legs are up to it. I have been in contact with them and they were very nice and are being very cooperative. . I knew Ted Sismore very well. He was the Navigator to another old friend of mine from 105, Sqdn. Ldr. Reggie Reynolds when they made the famous first daylight raid on Berlin as Goering was about to speak on the Radio to the Nation and made him the laughing stock of Germany afterwards. He ,Ted Sismore , also planned the famous raid on the Prison at Amiens to release condemned prisoners ,where F for Freddy Pickard, an old C.O. of my other Sqdn. 51, was killed. The F for Freddy nickname came from the propaganda film of the forties "One of our Aircraft is missing" where he was the Commander of the Wimpy "F for Freddy." What a Squadron 105 was ! The C.O. was enough for any Boys Own Paper Wing Commander; The great Australian, "Hughie " Edwards V.C. and every other Decoration at least once and even twice. Sqdn. Ldr. Roy Ralston and Blackpool Navigator, Sid Clayton who bombed a train as it went into a tunnel and then went round and sealed the other end before the train had come out. They did over 100 ops together and then Sid went over to Canada, trained as a pilot and came back on ops with ...105 Sqdn. of course.
Anyway we shall see about Sunday. Watch this space . Regle

GordonPDavis
1st Oct 2009, 16:55
The photo of the Lancaster was great. Landing a Spitfire on soft ground could be more disastrous. The small wheels stuck and the aircraft finished up with its nose in the ground!

I would like to include several photos which I have scanned but have no idea how to include them in a reply. Can any one explain in layman’s terms please?

johnfairr
1st Oct 2009, 19:33
Gentlemen (and Ladies),

The extract below is from memoirs dictated by my father 25-odd years ago, which I transcribed last year. I've posted the odd clip here and there, but as requested by Cliff, I thought I'd add this to the mix. My father died in 1999, not ever knowing PPRuNe. I think he may have enjoyed it . . . . .

An Eventful Christmas – 2 Spitfires damaged . . .

At that time there had been some trouble with bolts on the aircraft and they had to be sent back to either Brize Norton or South Cerney for checking, so on Christmas Eve 1941, with another Canadian chap, I flew to South Cerney to have the aircraft checked over. I landed, no bunts, quite smooth, all going when all of a sudden I saw my port leg disappear behind me and the aircraft came to a grinding halt, fortunately not damaging the prop and very little damage to the port wing. I felt a right idiot sitting there, wondering what I had done. I eventually got back to the control tower, phoned Gravesend, spoke to the flight commander. The first thing he asked me was had I damaged the prop and I said no, so he said, well you’d better come back. So I hiked the parachute out of the aircraft, was given a parachute bag and a pass, and told to get back to Gravesend, which was great on Christmas Eve!

Anyway, I got to the station and eventually got back to Gravesend quite late at night. I wasn’t at all happy about explaining everything to the Flight Commander the following day. He seemed to think I was a bit of an idiot and I couldn’t think what I had done wrong. Anyway, the next day being Christmas Day, they decided I’d do the whole trip again. So the following day I got in another aircraft that had to be checked and flew it into Brize Norton. I got the aircraft checked over and came back to Gravesend.

Now Gravesend was a funny sort of aerodrome. It’s all grass and it ran down towards the river and there was large patch in the middle which we didn’t use. It was roped off because the ground was so bad. Anyway, I landed alright, all the wheels were down, the tail-wheel was down, shut the throttle, pulled back on the stick, put the brake on and nothing happened. I worked furiously at the foot-pedals to waggle the tail to and fro in the hope of making at least some impression on the brakes and nothing happened at all and it trundled very gently to the end of the grass, over the perimeter track and then there was a bit of building going on on the other side, got to the rough bit of ground, then tipped gently onto its nose.

It didn’t do a lot of damage, but I felt a bit of an idiot, especially when the CO and half the squadron came galloping round the perimeter track to look at me and help me get out of the aircraft, which was on end. I wasn’t particularly popular with everybody at the time and I must admit I felt a bit miserable. I still couldn’t see what I had done wrong and for two or three days after that, I lay in bed wondering what the hell was the matter. At any rate I couldn’t understand why the leg had come off, because all the lights had shown the legs were securely fastened. The two little tabs that come up on either side of the cockpit by the edge of the wing, to show the wheels were locked and down and that should have been alright.

Now so far as the Gravesend effort was concerned, I knew I’d pulled the brake handle as tight as I could and I went and checked one of the aircraft and the answer came in a flash. I rushed to a phone and got hold of the engineering officer, explained what I thought had happened, and he was quite a decent chap. He came up, had a look at the aircraft and I was proved right, I was glad to say.

What had happened was, you probably know on a Spit, you have a control column with a large ring at the top on which you have the gun-button on the top left, a camera gun-button just to the right of it and a brake handle comes down the centre of the middle of the ring, so when you hold it with your right hand, you stretch your fingers across, grab the brake handle and pull. Now, what had happened was that they’d run the wire from the camera gun button, instead of round the rim of the top of the handle, they’d brought it straight down. Consequently, when you heaved on the brake handle, the base of the brake handle, instead of going right across to the far side of the ring, caught onto the wire, was held tight and whilst you were putting on full pressure and thinking you were holding the brakes full on, they were scarcely on at all. So they checked all the other aircraft and found two or three other cases. It could have happened at any time at all, to anybody, so I was absolved of all blame there and patted on the head.

S'land
1st Oct 2009, 23:47
Gordon Davis:

Have a look at the attached sticky to see how to post photographs.

http://www.pprune.org/spectators-balcony-spotters-corner/203481-image-posting-pprune-guide.html

regle
2nd Oct 2009, 10:46
Gordon, if like me, you took one look at the instructions, shuddered and said some rude words, then do as I did... You must have a friend or acquaintance who is "genned up"on PC's. Get him round and he will take pictures with a camera of all the pictures that you want shown. When you want a picture shown, tell him and he will post it for you in your thread , just like my good friend Andy. Thanks again, Andy for everything. Regle

cliffnemo
2nd Oct 2009, 10:48
I would like to include several photos which I have scanned but have no idea how to include them in a reply. Can any one explain in layman’s terms please?

Hi Gordon.

Dunno about layman's terms , but.

Herewith a scan of print out I made when trying to fathom the mysteries of Photobucket. S'lands's instructions are perfect , and should be followed. The following may help (or hinder).
One thing that baffled me was when finally copying to the equivalent of this page, I was confronted with a row of characters (URL ?) ,and no pic. Took me some time to find 'preview post' (below). Clicking on this shows pic. Also I found out the hard way, that when I removed the pic from Photobucket it disappeared permanently from PPrUNE. So after posting do not delete pic in Photobucket.

Are you using Skype ? Phoning Skype to Skype computer user any where in the world is free. Skype to non Skype landline user about 1P per minute. I use Skype think my name on Skype is again cliffnemo. You could ring me for as long as it takes, and I could talk you through Photobucket Otherwise I could ring your landline phone.
Gordon if any of these ideas are of interest me P.M me



http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/PBUCKETINSTRUCT2230.jpg

http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/PBUCKETINSTRUCT229.jpg

regle
2nd Oct 2009, 10:58
More from your Father's memoirs, please. He would be chuffed to know that people are avidly interested in the sort of incidents that he so graphically describes especially as he has written "As I am sure you all know " and then describes the appendages on the top of the "stick" of a Spitfire. I felt that he was talking to me and I am sure..that he was right as far as this Forum is concerned. So , please, let us hear more and we are very grateful. Regle

Icare9
2nd Oct 2009, 12:22
johnfairr: Brilliant and thank you for posting your fathers memoirs. I hope that seeing them on the page(s!!) here, helps bring back many happy memories of him.

I had no idea that there were tabs on the wing surface to indicate the wheels were down and locked!! Similarly, the detail about the control column. Absolutely enjoyable stuff, but I don't quite get what the connection was with the port u/c leg coming of at South Cerney.... was that related to the brakes or separate?

Gordon: try posting the pics, we won't mind a couple of weird postings while you learn, if it gets them on here eventually. Take up Cliffs offer if you need to, he's been there and done it and I'm sure you'll get the hang of it and then we won't be able to stop you!!

mustpost
2nd Oct 2009, 12:53
Just thought I'd give a bit of advance warning - my late father served in Africa from Rhodesia to the Middle East and back again, and I was going through some of his old letters the other day. By a strange turn of events I came across a very good website devoted to one particular Lancaster crew; some people here may be aware of it. The upshot was that the author of the site had details of his father's wartime record which seemed to have similarities to my Dad's. After making contact, I now have sight of flying records which indicate they flew together in Rhodesia...so, armed with some details, I am now scouring attics and the records for further info which I hope to post here. So - a request - I'm trying to find names of people who passed through or worked at Thornhill, Moffat, Mount Hamilton, Norton and Guinea Fowl from around '43 - 45. Also looking for names who might have served with 462 Squadron till the end of '43 (ie in the Middle East)
Feel free to PM if you would like to.. Cheers
m

johnfairr
2nd Oct 2009, 13:36
Chaps,

Thanks for the kind words. An explanation would probably help to understand the context in which this was produced.

I grew up as a young lad knowing there was something wrong with my father - he only looked out of one eye. The other one came out at night and was placed in a glass of water in the bathroom. In the shed next to our house there was a canvas parachute bag, with the initails "RJR" on it and inside was a leather flying helmet complete with oxygen mask and a mangled piece of metal where it clipped on the nose. I used to play with it, as all young kids of my age were want to do. In the hall was a solid wood carving of an RAF squadron crest and a framed picture of HRH King George VI shaking hands with my father (both of which now reside in my dining room).

In the house were many books about flying, which my elder brother and I devoured - "Reach for the Sky", "Fly for your Life", "Nine Lives", "King of Air Fighters", "Samurai", Official Histories, Log books, scrap books, medals etc.

It was no surprise then when my brother headed off for RAF Hornchurch to go through the Officer & Aircrew Selection Board. At 18 he left school, had a brief summer holiday, and in September 1963 started his flying career at RAF Cranwell. For obvious reasons my mother was not too excited about this turn of events but she bore it stoically. I was 6 years younger than my brother and green with jealousy. I knew every aircraft in the inventory, had built Airfix kits in record time, all hanging from my bedroon ceiling, and read any and every thing I could about the two world wars and the RAF.

In those days there was still a crash a week, aeroplanes were relatively cheap and there was no shortage of young men to fill the training slots. To say my mother was worried would be an understatement. When I left school I took the easy option and went into the City. By this time my brother had completed a first tour on Hunters in the Persian Gulf and was now on the first Phantom FGR2 Squadron (6) at Coningsby.

Eventually, I bit the bullet and walked into the RAF Recruiting Office in Kingsway and went off to Biggin Hill for the OASC. My mother, by this time, was a bag of nerves, having nearly lost a husband (her fiancee at the time) and seeing her two surviving boys (another brother between the two of us had died at 10 months after my mother caught polio during the pregnancy) go into exactly the same dangerous occupation.

So, that's how things started off and the rest of our stories diverge at this point. However, in about 1984, after our first son was born, I asked my old man if he wouldn't mind just putting something down for the benefit of his first grandson. A few months later he gave me four cassettes and told me to have a listen. I played the first one for about 10 minutes - something happened in the kitchen/garden, probably a nappy change, and I forgot all about the tapes.

A couple of years ago I came across them again, and, telling no one, started to transcribe them. Now my father had died in December 1999 and it was very strange to hear his voice again after all those years. I have to admit to the odd tear as I typed, but it was a very cathartic experience. I had just finished and told my mother, who corrected a few things (she had never heard them herself), when she died suddenly in July 2007.

I am now left with 70-odd pages of A4 which I am unsure what to do with. The Imperial War Museum would seem an obvious place, but here on PPRuNe there is a captive audience who would not normally seek out such things, but take great pleasure in accessing them through the web. So that's what I'm going to do.

Again, to put this in context, the old man (he was always that to us boys!) had sat in the lounge at his home in Frinton, loaded up his pipe, filled his tankard with an ale or two, and just talked into his microphone for hours on end - using his logbook and scrapbook for dates and places. It is spoken to me as if I was there, so it is essentially in the second person.

I'll post the first page or two later on if that is OK with you guys.

regle
2nd Oct 2009, 13:56
Bravo ! I feel like the discoverer of Tutenkhamen's tomb must have felt when asked what he saw when he first peered through the chink in the darkened tomb and replied "Wonderful things". We all look forward immensely to your Father's memoirs and I have no doubt that you will be contacted as to the future resting place for them. All the very best wishes, Regle. ( Someone who has never regretted finding this Forum )

johnfairr
2nd Oct 2009, 14:13
Verbatim transcription of tape-recordings by Flight Lieutenant RJH R*******n RAFVR DFC, made in 1984, just after the birth of his first grandson, James. Transcribed by John R*******n, April 2007. In order to make the text more understandable, I have included notes, in italics, to clarify places, characters and timings.


Munich 1938 – March 1940



Hello John, this is about the longest letter or dictation that I shall make to you or to young James. It’s something we’ve discussed on various occasions, and it’s not supposed to be a line-shoot, but merely to give you and young James, in future years, some idea of what it was like in the early part of the war. This won’t be full of exciting doings, there were long periods of complete boredom and you may find it boring to listen to half the time, but for what it’s worth, here goes.

After the Munich crisis in 1938 it was becoming more and more apparent that war was going to break out sooner or later, and whereas companies hadn’t been too keen on staff joining the TA (Territorial Army) or RNVR (Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve) or RAFVR (Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve), it became patriotic to suggest that no objection be raised if all the keen types joined something or other. So far as the RAFVR was concerned, by joining it meant that we’d attend evening lectures and be away one weekend in two or three and have a fortnights camp. This was on top of the normal holiday to which one was entitled. Previously companies hadn’t been overjoyed at the prospect of losing most of their young men for long periods and also to have to continue paying them. As you probably know, my one ambition was to join the RAF. In those days to get to Cranwell it was necessary to be brighter than I claimed to be and to have at least a small private income. Other than that there was a short term commission normally four years. As was pointed out to me, “What would happen after four years, what sort of a job would I be likely to get, if any” It was a time when money was short and jobs scarce, hence the pressure to remain where I was in insurance, poorly paid, but safe.

Obviously this new look at the situation was a heaven-sent opportunity for me to apply to join the RAFVR. So in April 1939 I went down to the nearest recruiting base at the Palmera Towers, Westcliffe. We were a large number of chaps of similar age and qualifications, in my case practically nil apart from an ambition to fly. We were given various tests, maths, map-reading and a selection board consisting of three officers. I was fortunate enough to pass these without a great deal of trouble and then came the question of a medical. It certainly didn’t worry me, but unfortunately there was no means of getting that done at Westcliffe, there was no doctor in attendance, which seemed quite odd at the time. It often makes me wonder how anyone joined anything in those days. In fact in the very early days it was said that you had to have influence to join any of the Services, apart from the army. We all returned to our peacetime activities and I spent the next few months writing to Westcliffe asking when I could have a medical. Eventually I received a formal letter from Westcliffe, saying that due to various factors medicals were being delayed, and a hand-written PS on the bottom, saying “Personally I think it may be anything up to two years!” And this was in August 39!

Finally, after much binding, I received a letter in duplicate saying I had been accepted into the RAFVR and was only awaiting a medical. If I was called up under my age-group before the RAFVR pulled their finger out I was supposed to present this letter to the draft board and I’ll be whisked into the RAF without further bother.

On 3rd September 1939 it all happened and recruiting offices sprang up all over the place. There was an RAFVR place in the Strand, to which several chaps from The Ocean presented themselves and having passed the various tests mental and physical were immediately made sergeants, given uniforms, and told to return to their place of work until called! I was told that as I was already on the books, there was no way they could entertain my application but I was just to go away until I was called up for a medical. I must admit I was pretty livid, but could do nothing about it. My one consolation, albeit somewhat half-hearted was the fact that two chaps who’d worked with me sat in The Ocean, (The Ocean Accident & Guarantee Company, where RJHR worked from 1935 -1975. It eventually became the Commercial Union and was subsequently taken over by Norwich Union, now part of Aviva) complete in uniforms, working like slaves, me in civvies; both failed their flying tests and were turfed out.

airborne_artist
2nd Oct 2009, 14:14
JF - if you've got this far it might not take much more to turn them into an E-book (as a PDF) and then find a site that will host/sell the finished article. You could then direct all proceeds to RAFA, RBL or similar.

johnfairr
2nd Oct 2009, 14:21
That's a new one on me AA, WTF is an E-Book? Is it summat that the dastardly Hun used to read on their E-Boats?

cliffnemo
2nd Oct 2009, 15:03
GREAT STUFF JOHNFAIRR. We are always pleased to welcome 'New blood'. You can rest assured that fellow Pruners will appreciate your hard work, and will tell you so. Wouldn't it be great if we could also welcome a lady A.T.A (Air Transport Auxiliary pilot) , they must have a host of amusing or frightening stories to tell. Regle , did any of them ever deliver four enginE planes ? Was Amy Johnson and A.T.A ?

regle
2nd Oct 2009, 15:34
Why me, Cliff, with the association of the very much to be lauded A.T.A. ? Yes, Amy Mollison nee Johnson was certainly a member of those dauntless girls who were so trusted and reliable when they finally broke through all the resistance of the Colonel Blimps who could never envisage a "mere slip of a Gel" flying such a difficult machine as an aeroplane. She eventually payed for it with her life when she bailed out of an Oxford over the Thames in thick fog and was never found. When they did finally break through all the hide bound anti-feminists they were not given any Radio Aid training and flew by map reading, and at low levels through valleys, along roads and by the seats of their "pants ?". They certainly did eventually fly four engined aircraft and were of invaluable aid to the war effort and released many R.A.F.Pilots for sterner duties. There is a terrific book which details their struggle graphically,written by one of the earliest entrants which is both illuminating and hysterically funny at times and I am having a completely "Senior Moment" in not remembering the name of it. If anyone, Andy as usual, can , I should be indebted to them as I would read it again. My Forage Cap is eternally doffed to those intrepid Ladies, Regle

forget
2nd Oct 2009, 15:45
ATA Book - Spitfire Girls? Is this it -

base.com: FICTION SAGA/ HISTORICAL - Spitfire Girls (http://www.base.com/Books/Spitfire-Girls/0099534673/product.htm)

kevmusic
2nd Oct 2009, 20:10
JF - wonderful stuff! Any photographs with your Dad's memoirs?

regle
2nd Oct 2009, 20:53
Yes that's it . Have ordered, many thanks, Regle

Icare9
2nd Oct 2009, 22:10
johnfairr: As your spelling indicates you did not live there, here is a link
Seaside architecture - Palmeira Court and the Arches cafes at Westcliff on Sea, Essex on Flickr - Photo Sharing! (http://www.flickr.com/photos/louisahennessy/3494633164/)
to Palmeira Towers Westcliff, about half a mile from where I lived most of my life. It's right on the seafront, and would have wonderful views, especially of the Southend Air Displays.
And if Reg wants to look at a Halifax restoration (NA337) have a look here
Photo Gallery (http://www.bombercrew.com/Trenton%20Visit%202/default.htm)
and see if it's as you remember!!

cliffnemo
3rd Oct 2009, 10:56
The Daily Mail has a clolum entitled ' Missing and Found' . I put this forward to you and Mr Moderator for your various opinions. Would it be ethical . crazy, or unprofessional to Email the person responsible and say we are searching for Navs, gunners etc on the grounds that they are friends ? That we want them to contribute to PPRuNe ?
Don't shoot me down. I only asked.

JOHNFAIRR. OR GORDON ?
. Another way to publish your pics, which we are all waiting to see, would be to have them scanned at a local office services place , post the copies to me and I will scan and post. Have a word with ANDY . He has done this I think, very successfully with REgLE'S PICS.
These copies are practically as good as the originals.

johnfairr
3rd Oct 2009, 11:22
Called up under The Conscription Act, March 1940 – August 1940


In March 1940 I was called up under The Conscription Act and dutifully presented myself for a medical. Most chaps there were herded into the army, very few Navy and a sprinkling of RAF. I explained that I should go into the RAF and told them of my many attempts to get in since April 1939. This cut no ice with the idiot who was interviewing me, he said they had no RAF recruiting office in Westcliffe, whereupon I produced my letter in duplicate, which merely made him a little more anti-me than before. I was then sent for a medical, which proved OK apart from details on eyes.

“What colour are your eyes?” I was asked.

I wasn’t too sure of the exact colour, so I said “Sort of bluey-grey”

“We’ve got blue or brown. I’ll put down as blue.” So that’s what’s been on my personal record card ever since.

I returned home happy in the knowledge that at least I had my foot in the door and if the war lasted 20 years I might get in for the victory celebration. Somewhere about June 1940 I was told to report to Uxbridge for a further board. I met one or two chaps who’d had somewhat similar experiences to mine and we all sat in an ante-room and were called in one at a time for interview. Naturally as soon as one came out he was bombarded with questions as to what he’d been asked. There wasn’t any sort of time to get the answers because we whipped in one after the other. Anyway, one chap came out just before I went in and said he been asked “What are thirteen thirteens?”

So I went in and sat down and the officer immediately said “What are thirteen thirteens?”

Quick as a flash, I said “169”.

He seemed quite staggered, “That’s very good, did you just work it out?”

“No” I said, “I just asked the last chap”.

Anyway it seemed to amuse him and the rest of the interview went quite well. Could I drive a car? Yes, only just. Could I handle a yacht? Yes, Arthur went out on the ocean on weekends at Leigh, I didn’t actually have a yacht of my own. Could I ride a horse? Yes, haven’t done it for ages. I doubt if they believed all they heard but it seemed to go down OK. If I couldn’t be a pilot would I take any other jobs like air-gunner? Yes, I was dead keen, anything I’d take, keep my fingers crossed.

GordonPDavis
3rd Oct 2009, 11:52
Thanks to everone who had helped with putting pics on PPRuNe. Now scanning my pics to get them on Photobucket. Unfortunately most photographs have faded with time like me but doing my best.

Thank you all,

Dave Davis

regle
3rd Oct 2009, 12:07
Johnfairr, your Father will be smiling away somewhere. In the account so far I have been taken back 69 years as "plus ca change " etc, It was the same then as it is now. I think that he was very lucky to eventually get enlisted as aircrew under the Conscription Act as they could have sent him anywhere, even down the mines. It is why most people ,like myself volunteered as soon as they were able, on attaining 18 , in order to get the Service that you wanted. You had a slight advantage over the Interviewing Officer because you could say "No" and walk out if you were not offered the Service and trade that you wanted. From the age of 20 that "edge" disappeared. My Interviewing Officer did his utmost to persuade me that being a Navigator was the equivalent of the Islamic promise of a First Class ticket to an eventual Paradise of Houris and such delights but I , and this was not typical of me at the age of eighteen, stood my ground and said "I want to be a Pilot or I shall walk out ,Sir" (He was a fiery Group Captain!). Eventually he gave in and wished me luck and added "You are the only Jew that I have met that persecutes Christians. God Help us ! " and then started laughing. He would probably have been prosecuted in this Nanny State ,but I was cock a hoop . Your Father and I must have been around at the same time, as I enlisted around August 1940 but was not called up until October and then had to perform "Ground Duties" .....Euphemism for cleaning Sgts. Mess Bogs" until ITW Jan. 1941... Pages 13 onwards in pprune. It really is a fine thing that you are doing . All the very best,Regle.

johnfairr
3rd Oct 2009, 20:13
This one is a bit lengthy, sorry about that. Next instalments will be later in the week, I am away for a bit without email - apologies

Initial Training Wing (ITW), Babbacombe, Torquay, August 1940 – February 1941


Once more, back home to wait. At last a letter arrived with a warrant for Babbacombe in August 1940. Away I went, complete with gas mask, civilian, in a cardboard box, with a great feeling of relief at finally being on the way to becoming, I’d hoped, a fighter pilot.

We only spent a fortnight in Babbacombe, doing fairly easy tests in maths, geometry, aircraft recognition and being kitted out. We weren’t kitted out all in one go, but bit by bit. We’d get caps and boots one day, webbing equipment another and so on. We were supposed to wear whatever we were given and consequently there were some strange sights; we had a couple of chaps who wore plus fours, who put on their caps and boots and paraded with them. Turned out like a musical hall turn, so the corporal relented and said we were excused the odd bits until completely kitted out. Actually it was quite fun at Babbacombe, the weather was good and we were a decent bunch of chaps and everyone seemed to think, you know, that we were getting somewhere at last. We did bags of PT and drill, marched miles round the Devon countryside.

During one of these marches a Ju88 flew over us at about 100’, smoke coming out of its starboard engine. Naturally, being semi-civilians, discipline went for a Burton and we all came to a grinding halt and stood and watched the Ju88, despite the corporals’ blasphemous tirade. “What did we think we were doing? Suppose the aircraft started firing? We’d be massacred”, and so on. In those days it hardly seemed real, but later in the war you wouldn’t have seen us for dust if a similar situation had arisen.

A couple of Hurricanes flew over a minute or so later, so I doubt very much if the 88 got home.

We had a few air-raid warnings whilst we were at Babbacombe and we were told not to be on the streets whilst the warning was in progress, take cover at once. That was great if you happened to be in the town and in a pub and some of us had a couple of pints. Otherwise it meant sitting in some air-raid shelter until the All Clear went, then going back to the hotel. During one air-raid warning some bombs fell not too far from us, so at the next free period we decided we’d go and have a look. They’d fallen in a field and when we got there the field was already crowded with people, just staring at the holes in the ground. No damage had been done to any property or anything else and it seems a bit strange now to look back and wonder what the fascination was with these holes.

I met some smashing chaps when I was in training and one of them you’ve probably heard me mention before, Dickie Hughband (?) Mum and I kept in touch with him for years and I’ll probably mention again later on. Whilst at Babbacombe we were given various injections, some of which caused enormous lumps to come up on our arms. In some cases chaps completely passed out, but we all managed to survive.

At the end of a fortnight we were all marched smartly, in uniform, to No 5 ITW at Torquay for what was supposed to be ten weeks of intensive ground studies, drill and PT. This was later reduced to eight weeks and it became a bit more intense, but at least we seemed to be getting somewhere. We’d start lectures at 8am and probably finish at 7pm and then do revision until quite late. We still managed to find our way into the town for the odd beer and game of darts, but at 2/- (10p) a day we could hardly go mad! We also had guard duty to carry out. On one occasion I was made guard commander which meant you didn’t actually mount guard outside, but had to keep awake to see the changing of the guard every two hours, a right bind. The following morning we were doing maths and I just fell asleep at the desk, to be woken by the Flt Lt trying to box at me! So I tried to explain that I hadn’t slept all night, he wasn’t impressed and I became Rip Van Winkle to him for the rest of my stay in Torquay.

As usual there were more medicals. They seemed to give us medicals every time we had five minutes spare. I presented myself to the dentist and after he’d checked the number of teeth I had and prodded round, he said,

“You haven’t got enough teeth!”

He was right, I had no teeth at the back. Anyway, I made some bright remark about not biting the Germans to death, but he wasn’t particularly impressed and said I must have the requisite number of teeth, so he would fit me with a plate, which he did. I said,

“Well I probably won’t wear them.”

“It doesn’t matter” he said, “You’ve got them.”

Anyway they duly pitched up and I brought them home and put them in a tobacco tin and screwed the lid on. The tin got stuck away with the rest of my junk and it wasn’t until years later that Mum and I were going through some of my stuff, sorting out this and that, Mum came across this tin, took the lid off and jumped a mile. I wondered what the hell had happened and there were these teeth staring at her! So we dumped them.

We kept having tests on the ground work, they seemed to come every five minutes. I can’t remember anyone actually failing although there were one or two who were put back a course. The instructors were about average, some good, some not so good and some useless, but we had one particularly good navigation officer who was quite a character, great drinker, great dart-player and general bon viveur. One day we got down to Torquay Town Hall, where we used to have our lectures and he marched in, threw his gas-mask on top of the cupboard, turned round and said “Lock the door”. Of course we had visions of some earth-shattering announcement for our attention. One of our lads came from Yorkshire and had an accent you could cut with a blunt knife. He was called to the front and handed some sheets of paper. “Read that”, said the officer and in a broad Yorkshire accent came the tale of Eskimo Nell. We were absolutely rolling in the aisles, I can picture the scene to this day, but we still managed to do well in Nav.

I must admit that with all the drill and marching and PT I became about as fit as I’d ever been or ever likely to be. We had a Norwegian corporal XXX in charge of PT. According to him, he’d been in the Olympic Games, flown seaplanes in Norway and was just a couple of minutes away from being taken into the Air Force as a pilot. A bigger load of rubbish we’d never heard.

I’d played a lot of water-polo before the war and the corporal in charge of swimming was an ex-member of Penguin, which you may or may not know is a well known swimming club. He asked, or rather commanded, that I should play for our ITW. We had a very good team and slaughtered the other ITWs and any other team we met. I was enjoying myself no end until the time came in October for our posting to EFTS. We were due to be posted on the Saturday and on the previous Tuesday we were playing polo in a competition. My opposing centre hit me in the left eye, a bit painful. I suffered a fair amount of damage, but apart from the blood vessels bursting, I’d damaged the eye muscles and I couldn’t open my eye. Anyway an ambulance took me to Torquay Hospital where I lay on my back for two days, until I was allowed to sit up for a while. The only good thing was I had a room to myself and was allowed to smoke, which was some small compensation after losing my chance of posting. Anyway, after a fortnight and various tests, I was given a two weeks sick leave and sent home.

Now I know leave is pleasant when you’re A1, but it’s a right bind when you wander around in dark glasses being unable to move one eye more than halfway. I came back to Torquay for more tests and more sick leave. The snag was that the muscles were so badly damaged that the eye couldn’t move properly and I had double vision, which was most uncomfortable.

Eventually in January 1941 I was declared fit, but by this time all my chums had been posted and all I heard was how great it was to fly and how well they were doing. There were a few compensations, however. There were five of us who had been held up for some reason or another and as we’d completed the course, no one really wanted to take five misfits on each day. So when the flights assembled we used to attach ourselves to the rear rank, march smartly off to the Town Hall in Torquay, where we were supposed to have lectures. We’d follow the flight in, march straight through and out the other side and go into town. We spent the day looking round, going on the front, visiting all the cinemas and generally pottering about. Never once did we get caught by anyone in authority and life became fairly passable.

ElectroVlasic
4th Oct 2009, 01:58
I am truly enjoying these great true-life stories!

Reggie, Cliff, Dave, John, and any others I am neglecting to mention, please keep them coming!

The experiences you are sharing are priceless!

GordonPDavis
6th Oct 2009, 09:53
Have logged on to Photobucket and uploaded a trial photo. Copied URL of pic and then logged on to 'Prune'.

Copied URL into reply text area, wrapped URL with quotes but can get no further!

Looking at buttons above text area I cannot see an IMG button, have tried a button 'insert image' but nothing happens. Getting desperate!!

Dave

cliffnemo
6th Oct 2009, 10:49
Gordon. If you have reached this stage (I have inserted spaces in this U.R.L so that it will not show photo.)

[IMG]http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach /pic2a-1.jpg[ /IMG] (BUT NO QOUTES)

Look for box at bottom right entitled 'prievew post' hopefully your pic will appear, and show you what will be seen on PPrUNE
Did you click box at top of photo then tick IMAGE CODE at bottom, then copy and paste. This is what I do, but there may be a better way.
If this is not the answer let me know how you transfer from photobucket to PPRUNE

green granite
6th Oct 2009, 11:55
the image button is the 4th from the right with the picture of a mountain on it, just click on it and paste the URL into the box that opens.

regle
6th Oct 2009, 17:18
Here I am recovering from what was quite a tiring but enjoyable day with the other old Fogeys that gathered with about five hundred eager Autograph Hunters at the very home of the fabulous Mosquito at Salisbury Hall near St. Albans and, of course , Hatfield.
I had never attended one of these signing sessions before and was amazed at the enthusiastic numbers that attended. We were about thirty "Veterans" all looking about the same and most of us in Regulation blazer with a loud jangling that accompanied every step from the rows of medals that were hanging from various points on the body. It was well organised but I was not prepared for the queues that were everlasting. I must say that the vast majority of people that were presenting us with everything from pieces of paper to toilet roll paper that had come from the seat where some famous name had sat; unused, I hasten to add ! , were very polite, enthusiastic and very, very grateful to us for coming and most of them would add "And thank you for what you did.", or words to that effect. One chap had brought a piece of the engine that his Father had kept after he had crashed in a Mosquito amd also a special pen that would write on the metal. There were however some wonderful paintings and drawings that I had never seen before. There was one book that I thumbed through and was quite emotionally touched when I came across the picture,, in a group, of the Navigator,Sgt. les Hogan, from Southport, who had been my Navigator on the "Ops" that I had done at Marham in 1942.. He had stayed on Mossies when I went on to heavies and had been killed very soon afterwards. The owner of the book "Mosquito Thunder" ,kindly e-mailed the details and I ordered it from Amazon yesterday.. I was amazed to get a confirmation from them that it was ordered ,with a personal note saying that the Amazon employee that had handled the order was a certain Lady with a Polish surname whose Father had been a member of 105 Sqdn. and she would very much like to know my connection, They enclosed an address and I have replied furnishing what details I could and , genuinely, praising the many Polish airmen that I had met and had only the greatest admiration for their bravery in combat which surpassed anything that we had known but then we had never been invaded and occupied since 1066. There had been at least one incident where a Pole had rammed a German bomber when his ammunition had been exhausted rather than let it escape.
To go back to the signing; we were taken by coach to a very lovely nearby Pub and given a very good meal with one of the best red wines I have tasted for a long time. It was a shame that a few of us who were driving had to ration ourselves to one glass. Then it was back to the grindstone and ,at a rough guess, I reckon that I finished by signing my name about 400 times... Yes, there were one or two obvious dealers who had about five or six identical prints and the same spiel "..for some friends"but I was agreeably surprised by the amount of really young people
in their twenties and thirties who were present. A surprising amount of children too and, wonderfully, very, very polite and grateful. There is hope for us yet. I felt humble when I heard the chap next to me telling one of them that he had been over Berlin 27 times during his tour with Mossies laying Target indicators for the main stream to aim upon. 27 times ! I had been three times and once was already enough. I think that his name was F.Lt.Durnford.DFC. Sandy Sandeson, Ex BOAC and fellow trainee in 1941, if you are reading this, Ken Tempest D.F.C. sent you his best regards. He was also British Airways, (BOAC) he said,and remembers you well. So it was a good day but as the little Lancashire lad who had been sitting on his cold doorstep said when he came indoors , "Eeh by Goom,Moom, Me Boombs Noomb," Regle

thegypsy
6th Oct 2009, 19:09
Regle

Yes I saw your name included in the list. I arrived at 1015 15 minutes before it was officially opened and was amazed to see a long queue at least of 100 people clutching things to sign. Needless to say I did not join it as I had nothing to sign! I managed to sneak around the side and have a quick chat with a Navigator from XV Squadron sitting at the very end of the table who was on Stirlings and went on many of the same raids as my father before he ended up on Mossies. I was back on the road home by 11am! Sorry to have missed you regle.

airborne_artist
6th Oct 2009, 21:03
Reg - an aside about Salisbury Hall. A friend has home video shot of the Rolls Royce Mosquito (RIP her crew) "displaying" at SH on the 40th anniversary of the first flight of the Mosquito. He shot it close to the M25, and all you can hear at some points in the sound track are the squeals of cars braking as drivers look up at the aircraft filling their windscreen and think "where the **ck did that come from?"!

Glad you had a great day out there - the father of a friend has time on Mosquitoes, but post-war I think. He spent D-Day above the Normandy beaches in a Spitfire - what a sight he must have taken in.

Icare9
6th Oct 2009, 22:28
Glad you had a good day, even at the expense of writers cramp.
There are photos of the queues on the Museum website Mosquito Aircraft Museum - de Havilland Aircraft Heritage Centre.
I heard rumours that de Havilland Aircraft have gone bust, but no actual confirmation yet. What a pity, another great name bites the dust, if true.... I know Hawker rose from the ruins of Sopwith, but I don't see anything likely to take their place!

pulse1
7th Oct 2009, 11:01
I am afraid that my Beaufighting neighbour is stranded in Spain with an injured hip so I have been unable to follow up his story. Hopefully, when he is back he will be up to sharing his story with us.

cliffnemo
7th Oct 2009, 15:44
Why pick on me ?
Why me, Cliff, Cos I thought you might know

Oh well the ‘mad idea’ (contact Daily Mail) fell on stony ground so I will forget the idea.
Prior to our second trip to Naples the matter of paying for items we wished to purchase in Italy was discussed at great length, the majority view was that cigarettes would be the best form of currency, but one member of the crew , who shall be nameless, as usual had a mad idea, bicycles, particularly, as plenty were available behind the guard room. The rest of the crew eventually decided to take cigarettes, leaving the odd member of the crew to experiment with one bike. A bike and spares were ‘acquired’ from the compound behind the guard room , and rebuilt. Our chiefy was promised a bottle of vino rosso if he would winch up the bike into the bomb bay, the deal was made, and the bike disappeared during the night into the bomb bay.
We then took off on our second trip to Naples from Hemswell but landed shortly after at Glatton to pick up our twenty soldiers. On arrival at Pomigliano, the bike was unloaded and put in the back of our transport bound for the Hotel Bella Vista. The bike was quickly sold for a large number of Liras, with which items such as peaches, grapes , cameo jewellery, wine were purchased. Four gallon discarded petrol tins were used to pack the grapes, and peaches in. These tins were a throw away items, being rectangular, and made of thin tin. The top was cut off, two holes punched in opposite sides to take a piece of thick wire which formed a handle. It was quite amusing to see nearly all the crews returning to their aircraft with one of these tins hanging from each hand. Why peaches and grapes ? These had been unobtainable in the U.K for the past four years, and were only beginning to appear in the shops. After my first trip, on my return I had taken a few peaches home, when my sister who had been to York races the previous day told me they had been for sale at 7/6 each, Two equalled one days pay, or fifteen pints of beer ?. We were later to find out that any bike parts, tyres, wheels etc were in short supply in Naples, and fetched a good price. They were a lot worse off than we were in the U.K. In fact on one trip I saw a car approaching making a very loud noise , it had what looked like a Spitfire wheel on one front side and a rim with no tyre on the other front side.

On our day off we decided to visit Pompeii. This was easily accomplished , as it was virtually impossible to walk very far before an army vehicle stopped and the driver would ask ‘where do you want to go ?.’ I have never seen such a happy bunch of people , before or since. They forever seemed to be smiling whistling or singing, with Hear my song Violetta being the most popular song. And no wonder, they had fought their way up from North Africa, suffering great losses and now ready to return home after years away, at last. On arrival at the village of Pompeii, as distinct from the ruins, we were approached by a nice ‘charrio’ driver who offered to take us to the gates of the ruins, which he said was a long way away. for a few hundred Lira. It was a good job that it was a very pleasant drive, for after our guided tour , we followed the way out signs, and found ourselves not far from where we set off in the ‘charrio‘. During our tour, the guide whispered he had Zubricks ( ask your grandfather, wonder if it will be in Wikepedia ?)for sale ,all sizes, which we duly purchased. He also offered , for a small fee, to show us some of the mosaics and pictures, which were too risqué to show to the public, won’t say any more other than one was entitled ‘Worth it’s weight in gold’ Don’t want to upset our nice Mr Moderator.

The return journey was uneventful , but amusing to see the overworked ‘His Majesties customs’ man speeding along the perry track on his bike. And also amusing, on landing at Hemswell , to see all the crews leaving the aircraft carrying large tins, and some wearing straw hats emblazoned with the word Capri.

Gordon, I think I have misled you, that is if you were to some extent guide by my scan of the photobucket page ( see post 1129_) . It shows three pages, when in fact the centre page should not have been included, as it shows how to highlight a quote. This may be why you see <quote1qoute?, only the top and bottom page are relavent. Why not P.M me with your phone number, and Iwill ring you using Skype ?

GordonPDavis
7th Oct 2009, 16:57
Hope I've succeeded! Clicking 'insert images' does nothing but I noticed on one of your help replies the photo URL starts with square bracket IMG square bracket and ends similarly. Tried this and then 'preview post' and lo and behold the picture appeared. Let's try it.

Hopefully this is a photo of HMS Attacker entering Singapore Harbour a few days after the Japanese surrender.

http://i883.photobucket.com/albums/ac31/gordonpdavis/singapore0001.jpg

As far as I know only three of us went ashore. We were each issued with webbing and a revolver. We decided to walk up to the Raffles Hotel and imbibe in liquid refreshment. Very intimidating, as we walked along there were Japanese soldiers walking around apparently unsupervised. Across the road two Japanese were digging with pick axes. One soldier kneeled down and the other drove his pick axe through his mates back. WE BEAT A HASTY RETREAT BACK TO THE ATTACKER!!

Now I will try preview post, hope and reply

.Dave Davis

Jimmy Macintosh
7th Oct 2009, 20:35
Gents,

Can I just say how much I am enjoying this thread, the stories are incredible, it feels like I'm living each and every one of them. Hopefully more will join with their stories and the rest continue with their tales.

Thank you all for your past and the current effort, it's very much appreciated.

johnfairr
8th Oct 2009, 19:54
Brough, Flying Training, February 1941 – First solo in March – May 1941


Finally, at the end of Feb 1941 my posting came through and in company with some forty others we collected all our gear and a train for Brough. It was like entering another world, apart from actually being on an airfield and seeing planes, in our case Tiger Moths, the whole atmosphere was that of a holiday camp. Brough used to be a private flying club base, and the mess and sleeping accommodation were absolutely first class. The food was excellent and we relaxed in comfortable surroundings. Compared with what we’d had at Torquay, discipline was very, very lax. We had a flight sergeant, a sergeant and a corporal and their one idea was to sit the war out without upsetting anybody or getting caught out doing anything. The idea was don’t worry us and we won’t worry you. One good thing was that we were allowed to wear shoes instead of boots and consequently there was terrific rush into Hull to the shoe shops and denude them of shoes. But it made such a difference to the feel of life in general to walk about in shoes, as opposed to clod-hopping round in boots.

Once we’d started the actual course there was a certain amount of tightening up. We’d begin the ground work at 8am usually finishing about 6pm with lunch and tea-breaks in between, trying to fathom the intricacies of Nav and maps while listening to the senior flight spending most of their time airborne. We had a civilian instructor for Nav, he wasn’t a particularly good teacher. He was miserable to boot. For some reason or other, he seemed very anti-pilot, I think he wanted everyone to be a navigator. I found it very hard to get on with him, but at least I managed to get reasonable pass marks so I was not too worried. We had the usual intermediate tests to see if it was worthwhile continuing to push theory into us while our minds were out on the aerodrome. One test produced some classic failures. A chum of mine, Dickie Charman, ex-Bedford College lad who knew Brian Kingcome, was completely hopeless at some things and navigation was one of them. He made a complete cobblers of one of the tests and the navigation officer was fed up with him and sent him off to the CFI (Chief Flying Instructor) for a final farewell before being shoved off into the army or some backwater in the RAF. Anyway, Dickie was told by the CFI that he wasn’t up to standard and was being taken off the course. Now Dickie was an LAC (Leading Aircraftsman) at the time, so he stood in front of the CFI, argued at some length and he finally said,

“You can’t do that, I’m a keen type!”

Anyway, believe it or not, we were more than surprised when he came back to us in the mess having convinced the CFI that he might be a decent bloke after all.

In actual fact he finished up in Hurricanes in North Africa. I met him in Gibraltar and he was just the same slap-happy character I knew in 1941. He was shot down whilst on a recce and he managed to talk some a-rabs into getting him back by waving his revolver at them. He got a DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross) later on.

It was quite funny, really, because the CFI Squadron Leader had just been given the AFC (Air Force Cross) for the good work he’d done at Brough, but he rather spoiled his record by having a couple of bad crashes, one of which involved one of our chaps colliding with the CFI in mid-air. The CFI managed to bring his aircraft down, but got a beautiful black eye. The student spun in and was killed.

Half way through the course we became the senior flight and did more flying than groundwork, which suited us to a tee. The snag was, the weather was grim and there’d be gaps of four or five days between flights, which didn’t help when you were just beginning to get the hang of things. On the other hand, on good days you could fly four or five times, so it straightened itself out. Five pupils were allocated to one instructor and we were more than fortunate with ours. He was Sergeant Tommy Ellis ex-92 Sqn. He took a tremendous interest in each of us and became more of a chum than an instructor. He lived out with his wife and used to invite us out to his house where his wife would do food and beer, and spend the evening listening to tales of squadron life and reading his logbook. He’d got two confirmed and some damaged in the B of B (The Battle of Britain, June 1940 – October 1940) then got taken off for a rest.

Of our five pupils under him, two were to be allocated to fighters and the others to bombers, and as well all wanted fighters the competition became a bit fierce. We were all anxious to go solo in as short a time as possible and, bless our instructor, he was a cautious chap, and what with the weather often not good enough for pupils to go aloft on their own, I took eight hours and fifty minutes before he sent me off on my own. That, I must admit, was probably one of the greatest moments in my life. I see from my log book that the great day March 23rd 1941, nearly 44 years ago and yet it almost seems like yesterday.

I took off with Sgt Ellis, we just did one circuit, landed, taxied back and he said,

“Stay there”.

He got out and tied his straps together, then just said,

“Take her up, do a circuit and come in and land.”

Now up till that time, with an instructor flying with you, your main interest is handling the aircraft when it’s in the air, you’re not madly worried about taking it off the ground and that you take it your instructor knows what he is doing. He can see all the aircraft coming in and taking off and there is no panic. But suddenly, when you are sitting in a cockpit on your own, you suddenly realise what there is to do.

So I turned round, at right angles to the take-off path, scoured the sky for other aircraft … appreciate there must have been dozens, hopping in and hopping out, going round and round. Having made sure that all was well I turned into the wind, opened up the throttle, and shot off to the other side of the aerodrome. Now fortunately, everything went absolutely beautifully. I sailed over the railway track, which bordered one side of the aerodrome, climbed up to 1000’, turned left, came down the downwind side, keeping an eye open for other aircraft all the time, turned across wind, still looking everywhere, throttled back, trimmed the aircraft and hoped that all was going to be well. I floated into the aerodrome and I must admit, it was probably the best landing I’ve ever made in my life. It absolutely curtsied itself onto the grass and I trundled to the far end of the aerodrome, feeling absolutely marvellous and very relieved. I turned round at the end and taxied back and thought “Thank God for that!” I’d soloed, all is well and now I can get out! As I stopped, Sergeant Ellis came round the wing, hung on to the side of the cockpit and said

“Very good, now go and do it again.”

Well, feeling a little more confident than I had been the first time, I took off, made another circuit, came in and made another, touch wood, very good landing, much to my delight. This time Sergeant Ellis patted me on the back, said “Congratulations” and I was allowed to get out. That was the end of my flying for the day. After that we did almost as much solo flying as we did dual and I must say the Moth is a beautiful aircraft. If you get enough altitude, you can do almost any kind of aerobatic apart from an upward roll, because you could never get enough speed up for it. We practised loops, spins and slow rolls and eventually we became fairly proficient, or so we thought.

regle
8th Oct 2009, 22:20
John I have to keep reminding myself that this is your Father talking and what a great chap he must have been ! He writes as though he were talking to you and takes me back to the days that I was doing the same thing. I soloed on the 28th. of June 1941, just three months after him, after 9 hours of dual and experienced exactly the same feelings as he did ,only now it is 68 years on and I had just had my nineteenth Birthday the Month before. Do you know what age he would have been then ? I have found it amazing how many pilots I have met throughout my career whose birthday was in May and so had Taurus for their sign. There were even two in Sabena who had the same date as mine, the 8th. (VE Day !).
The huge difference that struck me was the strict and ridiculous discipline that we had to undergo under the American system . Although the training was magnificent, the atmosphere out of the air was wretched and I envy the conditions that your Father described so well. Meals with your Instructor and Wife! There was absolutely no after flight liaising until we reached the dizzy heights of Advanced when they relaxed a bit and even allowed that you might be human after all. I look forward so much to hearing more and would appreciate your own comments about what you, yourself, feel when you see all of this in black and white. That , of course, is a very private matter and I understand perfectly. Reg

johnfairr
9th Oct 2009, 07:10
Thanks for your thoughts and kind words. As I said at the beginning of these excerpts, the Old Man just sat down and spoke into a tape-recorder, as you point out, talking to me as if I were present. When, as a family, we stayed at Frinton, he and I would wander off to the Red Lion pub in Kirby-le-Soken at about midday on a Sunday and have a couple of pints. The place wasn't crowded and we could just stand at the bar and chat, he with his pint and pipe, me with my ears at attention so as not to miss a thing!

On the question of age, he was 23 when he went solo, being born on September 18 1917. This ageism thing appears later in an interesting encounter.

I'll post some more later today.

andyl999
9th Oct 2009, 14:40
Reg has just sent me 12 pictures that I have scanned and put into his photobucket account. Lesson 2 will be to teach him to be able to link the picture to PPRUNE!

I will however get into trouble as there is a great picture of him in a Harvard near the end of his Advanced training, so with apoligies to Reg

http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss278/regle999/RAF/cr.jpg

regle
9th Oct 2009, 17:18
Thanks a million , Andy. It was the great idea of the U.S. Army Air Corps., as it was then, to relax their discipline a bit just before you got those coveted silver wings and let you go up and they would formate on you and the chap in the back would take photographs. That way they would have a record of their pupils and you would have a picture which I think is one of the finest I have ever seen... That is me piloting the plane and my besr friend ,'Wally' Herbert in the back seat. I met him after the war so we were both very lucky as he was in Bomber Command as well. I think that speaks a lot for the tuition and I am eternally grateful for it. Reg.
The picture was taken on the 29th. Dec. 1941 and I have put in my Log Book . W.R. Herbert in back , my 200th. hour. photo by Lt.Rimmer U.S.A.A.C. (My Instructor).

johnfairr
9th Oct 2009, 19:07
When we did solo aerobatics we were told to get as far away from the aerodrome as possible, go up to about 5000’ and then sort of more or less do what you like. I used to love doing slow rolls, but on one occasion I got the aircraft to the top of the slow roll and for some reason or another it would neither go up nor down, it sort of floated half on its back and half on its side and no matter what I did, nothing seemed to happen. So I took my hands and feet off, which is the normal thing, I’m told, if you’re in trouble in a Moth and you’ve got sufficient height. The thing eventually righted itself and I came home.

What with one thing and another life was really beautiful at Brough. The weather was becoming reasonable, we got a fair amount of flying in, the only snag being Hull was being bombed fairly regularly and consequently we’d spend one night in the aerodrome and one night away at some church hall where they’d fixed up umpteen camp beds. The church hall was at Beverley, a few miles from Brough and we used to get taken there by coaches and picked up again in the morning. Now one or two of the chaps had cars and consequently we used to pile into the cars, go and spend an evening in Hull, then, instead of going back to Beverley, we’d go back to the aerodrome and creep into our rooms. Of course by this time several of us had rooms on our own. This was OK until one morning the coach driver arrived at Beverely about half past seven in the morning, sat there waiting for the coach to be filled up, nothing happened. Went into the church hall to find not a soul had stayed there overnight. Consequently he came back, raised Cain and things got a bit naughty after that. Anyway, it was no great hassle, there was quite a nice little pub, near the church hall so we used to spend most of our time in there, creeping back just in time for the coach to pick us up in the morning.

I only had one fairly unfortunate experience at Brough but it turned out all right in the end. As I mentioned previously, one boundary, the northern end of the aerodrome, had the railway running along and the southern boundary was the River Humber and we’d always been told, whatever we do, don’t land in the Humber, ‘cos it flows like the clappers and there’s little chance of getting you out, which isn’t much help if you happen to finish up in the Humber. Anyway on this particular occasion I was taking off from the railway end towards the Humber and I’d just got up and the engine cut. So I shoved the aircraft down and landed, finished up pretty near the fence at the far end and as the engine was stone dead, I just sat there. Up came a Flying Officer, who was one of the other instructors, asking me what had happened. I explained to him and he said

“Ah, well, we’ll try again”

So they got some lads, swung the prop, engine started and back I went. Got to the far end, turned round, took off again. I’d only got about 100’ when the engine cut again, so once more I pushed it down and when I’d finished my landing run I must have been within about 3’ of the perimeter fence. They then decided that maybe there was something wrong with the aircraft so they had it pushed back to the hangars and the blokes worked on it. I never found out what happened and what caused it, but at least I was alright, so I couldn’t care less.

We’d now got to the end of the course and all that mattered was where were we going to be posted. I went down to the mess for dinner with some of my chums and there was a notice-board with lists of who was going where and I was delighted to find that I’d been put down for day fighters. I was more than chuffed. Sergeant Ellis, who happened to be wandering around there, came up and patted me on the back and said,

“Right, Robbie, the next time I see you, I want to see that top button undone.”

As you know, the hallmark of Fighter Command pilots was the top button of their uniform undone. It was a bit of a line-shoot, but it made for a feeling of pride and that extra bit of confidence, which is always useful.

johnfairr
9th Oct 2009, 20:34
I've given some thought to your comments regarding the relationship between instructors and pupils. This is purely supposition on my part, but I think the differences you mentioned come down to a very simple conclusion.

My father was trained in the UK, during bombing raids, albeit at night, by instructors who had already been in combat and knew why and what they were fighting for. I have no knowledge of the Arnold scheme, but it seems that you had US civilian instructors, America not being at war at that time, and thus they had no knowledge of what they were training their pupils for. The shared dangers of RAF instructors/pupils probably lead to a mutual feeling of "being in this together" and if they could train their charges to their own level of experience, then that was a huge bonus.

The RAF had a system where combat-proven pilots were given a rest period, time off ops, to instruct tyros, that would permeate down. The Luftwaffe did no thave this luxury. It's been noted before that if an RAF pilot who had scored combat victoires, say 3 or 4, then taught 5 other trainees to shoot down say 2 or 3, that was a far better return than keeping the war-weary pilots on operations, where they could not pass on their knowledge and experience to the next batch of first-tourists.

Just a thought, and I'd be interested to learn of the ratios of your colleagues who went to Fighter Command or, like you, went to Bomber Command.

More from the Old Man later, first I've got to run around and referee a few chaps in shorts with odd shaped balls tomorrow! :):)

cliffnemo
10th Oct 2009, 15:46
With Reg's permission I have posted his picture of the A.T 6 on the thread ' Sticky: Photos of everybody' .

It's a bit difficult to find it (for me any how) . But I think I first entered Sticky: photos of everybody in the search box above, and it appeared a few entries down. Think I also Googled PPRuNE Sticky: photos of every body and found it. It also can be found by going to the bottom of this page , click on 'forum jump', bottom of list is Jet Blast so again click and you will see it in the list (I hope). HELP , there must be an easier way, anyone, what is it.

ANDY periodically an alphabetic list appears on this thread so that a picture of any contributor can quickly be found , but as I posted the pic of the A.T.6, unfortunately it will appear under my name. Your idea , scanning picture to Regle's Photobucket was a brilliant idea, and if you think fit could be used to publish a picture under Regle's name. How about it ?

andyl999
11th Oct 2009, 12:53
John Fairr

The ratio of fighters to bomber cadets (not forgetting coastal command?) was brought about by the current phase of the war. i.e. during the Battle of Britain we needed fighter pilots as we were under attack and defending the UK. When Reg was a cadet July 41 to Jan 42 the UK started to want to go on the offensive, hence they needed more bomber pilots. I can also guess that when the convoys were attacked by U boats that we needed Coastal Command pilots?
My Uncle who was on the same course as Reg 42A, got "washed out" of Reg's class after Primary training and swapped to BFTS 1 course 3, when I tracked down all the output from the BFTS in that class approx 100, there were only 6 fighter pilots including my Uncle, that would be Jan 42.
I've spoken to Reg and other cadets many times to see how they were selected for single or multi-engined careers, but I have not managed to find out exactly how the selection was made,I do know that Reg was in the first 3 to solo on his course and was good at acrobatics so you would have thought he would have been selected as a fighter pilot? However also knowing Reg he would be quite communicative to the instructors that he saw his future as a multi engine pilot and maybe they listen to the cadets? I also think they tended to select the rebellious individualists as fighter pilots?

andyl999
11th Oct 2009, 12:56
http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss278/regle999/RAF/1-091009.jpg

regle
11th Oct 2009, 17:08
The rather embarrassing picture was taken at No.6 IT.W.,Aberystwyth after finishing our Ground Courses, for a recruiting campaign......Thankfully was not used or I would never have lived it down although, like Denis Compton ..."Who's he ?" say a lot of you, I did use Brylcreem. I had hair then. The promotion meant that we got six shillings and sixpence per day which instead of two shillings and sixpence , 'arf a crown to you Londoners, meant that we were filthy rich as all our board and meals were paid for and it represented quite a lot money when egg and chips at a nice Caff cost us less than one shilling. A lot of people even sent home a goodly portion of it to their Mothers or Wives. Thanks Andy for the acrobatics of which I had no knowledge. I wasn't bad at aerobatics but wasn't keen." There was I, upside down with nothing on the clock," The original "Line shoot", I have been told. I am persevering with the posting pictures exercises with no success. Nil Desperandum. Reg.

regle
11th Oct 2009, 17:12
Fighters or Bombers ? The powers that be asked you your preference and sent you where they wanted you in most cases, unless you went by the axiom that "the noisy wheel gets the oil." Reg.

thegypsy
11th Oct 2009, 17:46
regle

re No 6 ITW Aberystwyth When were you there?

My uncle ( my mothers only sibling) was in A Flight Ninth course No 1 Squadron at RAF Aberystwyth and I have a photo of the whole course dated 25th Feb 1941. How long did those courses last as in Jan 1942 as a Pilot Officer from No 40 Squadron his aircraft ( Wellington) ditched in the North Sea on a bombing raid to/from Wilhelmshaven. He ended up a POW in camps 6B/21B/L3 but two of the crew were killed.

On the front row of the photo are Flt Lt C.Wyatt-Hughes ( with Wings) Cpl A Clarke and Cpl J J Forester and P/O R O Whitaker who I guess were the Instructors.

Wonder if they were around when you were there??

regle
11th Oct 2009, 21:21
I have told of my days in N0.6 ITU Aber.in much earlier threads (They strted around page 13 onwards ). I was there from Jan. 1941 until May 1941 although the course only lasted six weeks . the trouble was that the bad winter had caused the flying schools to be virtually closed down and we were just sent on many weeks leave or we reported for roll call early and then were free for the rest of the day.. If you look at some of the pictures of Aberystwith that Andy posted for me , you will see me and the rest of B Flight. The coincidence there is that the Flight Sergeant pictured was also the same as the one that was in charge of Cliff Nemo, later on , I think.. The Corporal was not the same one as you mention. I think that his name was on the picture as we were presenting him with a small memento of his good work for us all. All the best , Reg. P.S. Aberystwyth is mentioned in Thread 270 but Photo Bucket have removed the pictures . I can think of a phrase that rhymes with Bucket.

andyl999
12th Oct 2009, 08:56
Reg do you mean "Nantucket" or "Muffet"? :0)

Here is picture No2 to comment on:-
http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss278/regle999/RAF/2-091009.jpg

andyl999
12th Oct 2009, 08:59
What's sergeants strips doing on a cadet?

regle
12th Oct 2009, 09:19
The Sgt.'s stripes were worn by me because I was given the Cadet rank as I was the Cadet Band Leader and one of the buglers at Albany and Macon GA. in Class 42A of the Arnold scheme. It made no difference to the pay, but gave us certain privileges such as being allowed to go off the camp some weekdays as well as the normal time which was from noon Saturday until 1900 Sunday. We were just fooling around with the tractor and never dared to get it going . We were also allowed to try the Fire engine but amazed the Americans when they discovered that all of us, at that time, could solo on an aeroplane but, only about one in fifty had ever driven a car. Signs of the times....1941 Reg.

cliffnemo
12th Oct 2009, 11:04
Not to be outdone by Messrs Regle and Andy.
http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj248/cliffordleach/PONCATROLLEY2281.jpg
Cliffnemo on far right (with Brylcreem) with Hardy Albrecht.
Brings back memories of Clarke Truck Tractors, Clarke fork lifts, Ross Fork Lifts . No fork lifts were manufactured , or very rarely seen in the U.K in those days/
Sorry just got carried away.

regle
12th Oct 2009, 16:43
The photos of Aberystwyth No.6 ITW are on page22 Thread 425 . Every single one of us in B Flight went to Albany GA. for training and we got our wings in Jan 1942. Probably your Uncle was in another flight, I think you said 'A' Flight. I remember you said that your Uncle was killed in Jan 42 so I think that he must have gone on a much shorter Flying course, probably in England as it was September or October before I was starting my Ops with 105 Sqdn. It was a great pity that the training in England was so dependent on the weather. South Africa, Canada, Rhodesia and the USA were far far, flung but we owe them so much for the training of our chaps that enabled us to hold out . The Empire Training scheme together with the Arnold, particularly and then the Tower's British Training schemes got around the weather and the capacity of our little island to pour out the thousands of pilots that we so desperately needed. Unfortunately the less fortunate ones who had the fog, wind, rain and peculiarities of the English climate to add to their difficulties in mastering a new and challenging element , paid the ultimate price. Reg

GordonPDavis
12th Oct 2009, 16:54
Hello Cliff,

Hope I've got the hang of publishing pics at last.
Landing a Seafire on the Attacker was always somewhat scary. The two photos show that things could go wrong but nevertheless in the words of the A25 song it was an 'OK Landing' - the pilot could still walk away!
http://i883.photobucket.com/albums/ac31/gordonpdavis/th_crash10001.jpg


Must not forget the Batman. When a Seafire hit the deck (literally), the Batman was standing only 20 feet or so from the wing tip. If the ship rolled, the aircraft came in in off centre or the wind direction changed the Batman was in a precarious position! Slung over the side of the carrier was a small net. As a last resort the Batman made a hasty run and jump and hopefully finished up in the net.

http://i883.photobucket.com/albums/ac31/gordonpdavis/th_crash20001.jpg

Only trouble now is these pics look like postage stamps, 4 times bigger wold be better

Gordon

green granite
12th Oct 2009, 16:59
I think that somehow you've posted the link to the thumbnails not the image, in photobucket, click on IMG CODE then copy the highlighted bit to the right and paste it directly into your post.

GordonPDavis
12th Oct 2009, 18:40
You were right. I had got URL of thumbnails, not whole photo. Thanks a lot

Gordon

thegypsy
12th Oct 2009, 19:24
regle

Yes I had read those pages ages ago and only recently discovered that my uncle was there in 1941 but had forgotten that you had mentioned your time there. He was not killed in Jan 42 when his Wellington ditched in the North sea but was a POW.Two of the crew of six were killed in the ditching.

It was my father who was killed in 1943 when his Stirling was shot down over Belgium by a nightfighter.It has been brought to my attention by airborne_artist that there is a memorial to four different sets of bomber crews including my father that were shot down in that area at Houthalen cemetry opened in 2006 which is a nice gesture by the local people.

Regle I have just had a look at P22 425. Was that all that was on your course as the more formal one of my Uncle in A Flight had about 40 people in it?.

johnfairr
12th Oct 2009, 20:31
Kidlington, Multi-Engine Training May 1941 – July 1941


We were sent off on a weeks leave and told we’d be posted to Kidlington in Oxfordshire. So we dutifully packed our bags, got on the train and trundled back to London. It was on that train that I had my first taste of spinach, I’d never eaten it before. In those days you could still get a meal on the train and to pass the time four of us decided we’d have lunch and they produced this spinach, but never having had it, I tried it, thought it was smashing and I’ve liked it ever since.

Leave was much like any other in the early days. You’d spend some time rushing around seeing relations you hadn’t seen for some time, taking out the odd girlfriend (including your mother!) and waiting for the day when you could bomb off and do a little more flying. I went from Paddington to Oxford, changed for Kidlington, got out, met one or two chaps I’d known on the course. There was no transport to take us to the aerodrome, which wasn’t all that far, so we wandered up to the gates, having previously met one of two of the chaps who’d been on the senior course at Brough. We naturally assumed, going on fighters, we’d be flying Masters next and were shaken to the core when the ex-senior flight told us we’d be flying Oxfords! The idea being that we were all going on night-fighters. Our hearts sank into our boots, or rather our shoes, as we were all wearing the shoes we’d bought in Hull. Thereby hangs another tale.

We reported to the guardroom and met the Station Warrant Officer, who was definitely a member of the Old School, and would have done well in the Brigade of Guards. He immediately spotted that we were all wearing shoes and in dulcet tones that could have stripped paint, he advised us to,

“Change them so-and-so shoes into so-and-so boots, and don’t let me catch you with shoes agin!”

What with that and having to fly Oxfords, we were delighted! Anyway, we got to our billets, unpacked and in the afternoon we were told to report to one of the hangars for lectures. As we marched along one of the roads to the hangar, we had to pass the remnants of a burnt-out Oxford, which gave us food for thought. Anyway, we got to this hangar-type lecture room and up came the CFI. Now at this time all that we knew about Oxfords was the fact that they had two engines and we had no knowledge whatsoever of their capabilities. Anyway, the CFI’s first words were,

“You don’t want to believe what you’ve heard about Oxfords, they’re really very nice aircraft, if they’re treated properly!”

Now to say that to a bunch of people who have never sat in an Oxford and knew nothing about them, didn’t exactly inspire confidence. There were several thoughtful faces as we filed out. Anyway, knowing the RAF, things change every two minutes, and at least we were flying an aircraft, so most of us were happy.

I had quite a decent instructor who happened to live in Seven Kings. My first experience in an Oxford was 15 minutes as a passenger and the 2nd Pilot or pupil was Johnny Lee, a chap I met later in Gibraltar when he became a pilot in 111 Sqn. Apart from a few days, when it rained like the clappers and turned everything into a quagmire, the weather, whilst we were at Kidlington, was very, very good indeed. To get through the mud, we were all issued with Wellington boots, which Big Gag (father of RJHR) appropriated when I took them home when I had one quick weekend leave. The weather was so good we never wore helmets or flying clothes, most of the time we were in shirtsleeves, with no jackets or anything. Sitting in an Oxford, under all the perspex, most of us finished up as brown as little berries.

There was still a lot more bull than we’d had at Brough, but that’s something that you cope with without too much trouble. We worked pretty hard, we normally started at about half past seven and there were lectures. I can’t remember doing any drill, I suppose we might have done, but nothing comes to mind; it was mainly ground subjects and as much flying as possible, in fact we flew nearly every day and in our spare time tried to find a pub with beer. In those days beer was on short supply, you could often walk to a pub and find a sign outside saying

“No beer this week.”

It was heart-rending, I can tell you.


I had three particular chums at Kidlington. There was Jack Ranger, who was an ex-member of Highgate Diving Club; Derek Olver, who was the proud possessor of a motorbike and sidecar, and his wife lived close by in one of the villages, and Brian Talbot, who happened to be the cousin of our flight commander, a certain Flight Lieutenant Gaynor. Now Gaynor had been a member of one of the Auxiliary Squadrons, I can’t remember which one, but his RAF tunic had red silk lining, so maybe you’ll know which one it was. He was an excitable character and one of his favourite words was,

“Aaamaaaazing!”.

He’d rattle on about something or other and Jack Ranger and I would stand there, look at each other and say

“It’s aaaaamaaazing!”

I think he was too dim to catch on, but other people were amused. When we’d finished flying for the day, or on an odd day off, of which there weren’t many, Derek would get his motorbike, with his wife Kay, and little Brian Talbot in the sidecar, and then Derek would drive by sitting on the tank, I would sit on the saddle and Jack would sit on the pillion seat of the bike and all five of us would trundle down to the villages, looking for pubs that were open or rivers we could swim in and generally have a pretty good time. We used to go down to the Parsons’ Pleasure in Oxford. It was a part of the river near one of the colleges and there was a nice little backwater you were allowed to swim in, so Jack and I would change, swim from the backwater into the main part of the river where, by this time, Derek and Kay, and Brian and his newly arrived wife, Kitty, would be sitting on the bank with sandwiches. We’d just swim up and down the river, occasionally getting out, lolling on the bank and quietly enjoying ourselves.

Jack would often climb out, go up to one of the bridges over the river, climb over the side and dive in. As I said before, he was a member of Highgate Diving Club and he was absolutely terrific and life really wasn’t much better.

We used to go down to The Trout at Godstow and have a few beers there. There was a little hut you could change in, in the garden, and we’d come down, get into the river, and just swim up and down. Beautiful! The river was quite fast at The Trout, actually. You could come under a bridge, shoot off down the other side and the idea was that you would buy a pint of beer, swim out with it to the middle of the river and drink the pint of beer whilst paddling water. It was stupid, but it was fun!

Other times we’d go to The Bear at Woodstock, where I learned to play Cardinal Puff after several attempts and from there you’d go through the village, down past Blenheim Palace, through a field, where there was another nice little river, where all sorts of trout used to congregate on one side of the bridge and the other side of the bridge we used to use for swimming and general poodling about. It wasn’t a bad life.

I soloed after five hours dual on the Oxford and eventually we came to quite like it. It was hardly an aerobatic aircraft, but with a great deal of oomph, you could get it to do a slow roll. That was a bit shattering, because when you looked out the window, you found that the wings, from the engines outwards, flapped a bit. So some of us did one slow roll and that was it. We never tried it again and it was all illegal anyway. We started to have ground tests which weren’t too bad. One in particular was a bit of a farce. We had a navigation test and one of the questions that came up, which carried quite a few marks, hadn’t been covered in our syllabus. So the instructor, who used to be on Hudsons in Coastal Command, strolled up and down the aisles, talking to himself, and explaining to himself, how the question would be answered if he were taking the test. All this with a very straight face and needless to say we all passed the navigation test.

regle
12th Oct 2009, 21:53
There might have been one or two bods missing but that was the complete flight with the Corporal and F/Sgt Choular, of Egyptian descent, a disciplarian with a heart of gold who , by coincidence was also Cliff's F/Sgt. at his ITW a bit later. We were possibly about thirty but I know that everyone on that Photo went to Albany Ga. There were, of course, other schools in the South East Training Center ( American spelling ) that had British Cadets joining them and were also given the 42A classification (First Class to graduate in 1942..) American College system and a very good one as you could tell straight away the year that a person took the course and when he finished and tell whether he was earlier or later than you.. It is still widely in use. The course at Primary had about fifty of
whom around 50% got their wings in the States..A lot of those people were washed out for purely "disciplinary reasons" and were posted up to Canada where they were often trained up to Wings standard and many of them were dead before we got back to England. Quite a few of these unfortunates were re-mustered Sergeants and Corporals who had been stationed at places like Biggin Hill and had felt the full fury of the Luftwaffe during the Battle of Britain. To be told by some young American College Boy to "be an aeroplane, Mister, and fly out of my sight " and then be expected to put his arms out, make a whirring sound and run off , was too much and the result of telling the "Upper Classman " what to do with his aeroplane , beside being physically impossible , would result in the immediate shipping back to Canada of the probably, relieved unfortunate. All the best Reg

regle
12th Oct 2009, 22:20
I couldn't help putting my oar in after reading Johnfairr's excellent story.
The relaxed after flying activities and the shirt sleeves even when up in the air contrast completely with the ,still prevalent, US system of making you think that and tell you, by literally screaming, are just pieces of dirt and whilst you are beginners at anything and know nothing, are completely hopeless and will never succeed. I did a lot of teaching experienced pilots how to be good Instructors at Bomber Command Instructors School, at Finningley and then at The Empire Flying school at Hullavington and the use of a little praise and encouragement, now and then was what we used to din in to the sometimes very high ranking students. We never called them "pupils" and we were "Tutors "! There are still so called Teachers in all walks of life who believe that the louder you shout the better the result. I am afraid that this is still very prevalent in American Forces training. Just look back at your own schooldays and ask yourself "Do I hate Maths because I never got the hang of it, or was it because I hated that Teacher's guts ?". I hated Maths for that reason . He was a bully and I loved English and Languages because the Masters were decent and understanding and persevered . Cliff, I would love to hear some of the German views on their training. Heidelberg, duelling and sword scars ? Or is that just fiction ? Very interesting. Reg.

andyl999
13th Oct 2009, 08:30
This should be the AT-6 but I've already posted that one!
http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss278/regle999/RAF/4-091009.jpg

regle
13th Oct 2009, 10:27
Oh, I do like to be beside the Sea. There are lots of Girls beside, that I'd like to be beside. Beside the Seaside. Beside the Sea." Reginald Dixon, all in white , rising majestically, seated at the MIghty Wurlitzer Organ from the caves below the wonderful Tower Ballroom, Blackpool to the acclaim of hundreds of couples massed there, eagerly awaiting the feast of lovely melodies that accompanied their glide across that beautiful setting.
The picture that Andy has so kindly posted above was taken on my first leave after finishing my "OPs" and the Flying Instructors' course at Lulsgate Bottom. It was taken on the Promenade at Blackpool and I was a "Sprog" F.O. in June 1944. I had over 850 hours in my Log Book; My lovely Wife was with me, my first born, Peter , was five months old, I had just celebrated my 22nd. Birthday and for the first time could reasonably look forward to a life without the dreaded "Chop", hanging over me, which was what we used to use as an euphemism for "Getting the Chop" which ,as you can see, is another one for the first. I can honestly say that the feeling of being "screened" from Operations in the dark days of Bomber Command's worst losses of 1942/3/4 must have been like the feelings of a condemned man being told that he had been reprieved.
Those thoughts were probably in my head that sunny day in Blackpool , sixty five years ago. Sometimes "Nostalgia" is a nice place to wallow in, Reg

andyl999
13th Oct 2009, 11:27
You said:-

"My uncle ( my mothers only sibling) was in A Flight Ninth course No 1 Squadron at RAF Aberystwyth and I have a photo of the whole course dated 25th Feb 1941. How long did those courses last as in Jan 1942 as a Pilot Officer from No 40 Squadron his aircraft ( Wellington) ditched in the North Sea on a bombing raid to/from Wilhelmshaven. He ended up a POW in camps 6B/21B/L3 but two of the crew were killed."

I've been talking to Reg, as you can see from his posting he was there (ITW) at the same time as your uncle.
However what we can't understand is how quickly he got from an ITW to operations. Reg as you may recall was on the first course sent to America 42A, this started in July 41 and ended in Jan 42, Reg would have waited ages in Bournemouth for allocating to a squadron, then there was squadron based training.
So we can only assume that your Uncle was trained in the UK?

Please let us know?

thegypsy
13th Oct 2009, 11:49
andy1999

Yes I assume my uncle must have trained in the UK. Reg says the course was 6 weeks long so perhaps the photo dated 25th FEb 1941 was at the end of his course but even so to be on line and checked out on Wellingtons by Jan 1942 in time to have ditched showed that his training was fairly quick. Unfortunately he has since died and I wish that I had talked to him more about his RAF service.

I have just counted the number in the photo and not including the four Instructors there were 45 in total and looking a lot smarter than Reg's photo of his course!! It was of course an official photo unlike Reg's


Here are the names

Back row

H.Waugh,J.Lancaster,M,Silverstone,R.Tebbutt,A.Scott,A.F.O'Do nnell,H.S.Wagner,E.V.Vowles,G.B.Morrison,G.S.Thomson,H.A.Tay lor,A.C.Poore,H.L.Walmsley,G.A.Rowe.

Centre Row

R.E.Leeson,W.C.Robertson,C.G.Shoebridge,J.J.Wallace,C.R.Macn ab,J.Mulholland,G.Wilkinson,P.S.Sanders ( my uncle),R.A.Wright,N.C.Lerwill,F.I.Thompson,W.M.Taylor,A.E.Yo ude,W.M.Sloane,B.Travers,W.Laing

Front Row

J.F.McLaren,F.Pearson,H.K.Thompson,C.P.Wilcock,H.L.Shepherd, J.Sheffield,S.W.Butler,Cpl J.J.Forester,P/O R.O.Whitaker,Flt Lt C Wyatt-Hughes,Cpl A.Clarke,E.J.Stevens,D.B.Searle,G.K.Woollard,D.W.Marshall,C. L.Skin,C.H.Stone

I wonder how many got their " Wings " and how many survived the war.

cliffnemo
13th Oct 2009, 15:17
Reg and I are both surprised we have not had any contributions from Germany, but plenty from America. Australia, Canada . in fact from all over the world , but not from Germany. We we would more than welcome any contributions from any ex German aircrew, or any information on training , etc.We admit it is a 'long shot' as numbers are rapidly dwindling, and there is also a language problem. So please contribute if possible , after all we are 'kindred spirits' and this is a very friendly thread with virtually no critics.

With regard to dwindling numbers in today's Daily Mail , an article on the A.T.A ( Atta Girls) only 15 girls are still alive out out of 164.

is there a German aircrew association ? Does any one have an email address.


Aufwieder horen., (can't find an umlaut on this keyboard }

brakedwell
13th Oct 2009, 15:37
There was a very interesting obituary for Generalleutnant Gunther Rall in yesterday's Daily Telegraph.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/military-obituaries/air-force-obituaries/6299837/Generalleutnant-Gnther-Rall.html

Günther Rall - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Günther_Rall)

regle
13th Oct 2009, 16:07
Just as a matter of interest the stretch behind the railings, where I am standing ,in the photograph on Blackpool promenade in 1944 is the beginning of the causeway down to the beach where the famous Goalkeeper Brothers of Frank Swift, Manchester City and England and his brother, Fred of Bolton Wanderers kept their fishing boats in the summer to eke out the £7 or £8 per week that they only got in the Winter and used to take the trippers out for a couple of shillings a head and were always surrounded with small boys, like me, begging autographs. Frank died in the tragic Munich disaster when he was aboard the Ambassador that crashed, as a Sports Reporter. I wonder what they would think of the unbelievable sums "earned" (but not in my book ) today !! I just thought that someone, perhaps a German speaker who remembers Frank and Nat Lofthouse in the "Lions of Austria " match.

GordonPDavis
13th Oct 2009, 19:02
Hi Cliff,

The ATA girls certainly did a wonderful job. In 1943 I was stationed at RNAS Henstridge flying Spitfires and Seafires. I hurt my right hand operating a clay pigeon machine and as I could not use the handbrake lever of a Spitfire I spent a couple of weeks attached to the station flight, flying a Stinson Reliant.

One of our pilots was doing a high altitude test in a Spitfire, his engine cut out and he made a forced landing a few miles from an airfield where they were learning to fly Horsas. I flew the Stinson Reliant to this aerodrome to pick up the pilot but when I reported to the control tower I was told that he was being kept in hospital for a day or two. Standing in the control tower was a young woman in civilian clothes powdering her nose and applying lipstick. I wondered what she was doing there. When she had finished applying her make up she picked up a parachute, walked out to a runway, boarded a Halifax, sat in the pilot's seat and took off.

A few weeks later I was back on Seafires and twelve new Seafires were delivered by ATA pilots. A couple of the ATA pilots were young women. They certainly knew there stuff!

Gordon

Warmtoast
13th Oct 2009, 22:16
Cliffnemo

Aufwieder horen., (can't find an umlaut on this keyboard }

1. Press numbers lock to on
2. While pressing the ALT key type 0246 on the numbers keys on the right of the keyboard - and Bob's your mother's brother. Like this - ö.
3. Numbers for umlauts:
0228 = ä
0235 = ë
0246 = ö
0252 = ü

For Capitals:
0196 = Ä
0203 = Ë
0214 = Ö
0220 = Ü

Wiley
14th Oct 2009, 04:32
Last weekend, I had an interesting couple of hours with my wife’s uncle, Peter Jensen, who’d been a WOP/Gunner on Sunderlands with the RAAF’s 461 Squadron based in the UK during WW2. (461 Squadron, formed in April 1942, (No. 461 Squadron RAAF - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No._461_Squadron_RAAF) ) was an offshoot of No 10 Squadron, RAAF, which had been in the UK at the outbreak of the war picking up its Sunderlands. The Australian PM, seeing Britain’s immediate need as being a little more pressing than Australia’s in late 1939, offered the squadron to the UK for service there rather than return to Australia as originally planned.)

He’d brought along a few photographs – and many memories (oh, how I kicked myself for not having a tape recorder on hand). However, the good news is, we’ve arranged to meet again in a couple of weeks when he’ll loan me his rather copious notes, which I hope I can transcribe over time and share here.

Some of the things he mentioned are worth repeating. For example, 10 Squadron has the dubious distinction of being the first Australian unit to lose men in combat in WW2. This is why 10 Squadron always leads the Sydney Anzac Day march.

How they came to do so might interest some. As France was collapsing, two 10 Sqn aircrew were tasked to rescue Madame de Gaulle and her children from France. They set out in a Walrus to the pre-arranged place on the French coast. (General de Gaulle had already reached England.) Unfortunately, they arrived at the coastal port at virtually the same moment as the invading Germans – and forty or so fighters – and were promptly shot down. (After some adventures, including just missing a ferry that was sunk soon after leaving France, Madame de Gaulle eventually reached England by boat.)

Peter spoke, if all too briefly, of three incidents during his time with the RAAF in England. A crash landing in a Wellington, (“a week in hospital, a week in a convalescent home and week’s sick leave and then back to the squadron”), with a brief aside about one of their crew who’s already survived a landing while still in the extended ‘dustbin’ turret of a Whitley. Apparently, this rather weird cylindrical apparatus, similar, (but looking nothing like) the B17 dorsal turret, was extended hydraulically under the Whitley’s belly once airborne and retracted before landing. For some reason, the landing was made – with the gunner still in the turret – while it was still extended, and the turret, along with the hapless gunner, was (thankfully) rather forcefully detached from the aircraft on touchdown and sent rolling across the airfield at almost 100 knots. The gunner survived to go on to be in the crash landing Wimpy.

The second incident he spoke of was perhaps more dramatic. On July 30th 1943, (his) Sunderland ‘U’ for Uncle of 461 Squadron (i.e., ‘U 461’ as marked on the aircraft side), was among a number of Allied aircraft that came upon three surfaced U boats in the Bay of Biscay – at a time when German U Boat tactics were to stay on the surface and fight it out with attacking aircraft, (and thus they were very well equipped with anti-aircraft guns to do so). Details of the engagement can be read here: Caught on the Surface - AUD$495.00 : Aviation Art, The Art of E-commerce (http://www.aviationart.com.au/index.php?main_page=product_paint_info&cPath=1&products_id=34) and here U-boat Archive - U-461 - Interrogation Report (http://www.uboatarchive.net/U-461INT.htm)

As can be seen from the links above, Sunderland U 461 of the RAAF went on to sink U-461 of the Kriegsmarine – and saved the lives of 15 of the U Boat’s crew by dropping a life raft to the survivors. Photographs of the engagement appear below, as does a photograph taken in 1988 when Peter Jensen and the Sunderland’s captain, Dudley Marrows, met the U Boat’s captain, Wolf Stiebler, at the Australian War Memorial in Canberra.

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj318/seewhy49/E461RAAF1.jpg
Sunderland E 461 over the Bay of Biscay, 1943. Taken from a USAAF B24.

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj318/seewhy49/AttackonU4611.jpg
Sunderland U 461 attacking U-461, 30 July 1943. (Note the height the attack was made from! See links above to explain why.)

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj318/seewhy49/U461sinking3.jpg
Depth charges exploding on U-461.

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj318/seewhy49/U461sinking4.jpg
U-461 survivors in the water after its sinking.

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj318/seewhy49/AWM19882.jpg
Dudley Marrows, Wolf Stiebler and Peter Jensen with Sunderland model, Australian War Memorial 1988.

--------------------

His third tale, when he and his crew on Sunderland E-461 were shot down in the Bay of Biscay by six Ju88s, is all the more extraordinary thanks to the photographs he has of the engagement – most of them taken by the CO of the German Ju88 fighter squadron. Although his duty station as WOP usually had him in the centre section of the Sunderland, Peter happened to be relieving the tail gunner when E-461 was attacked by the six Ju88s. Thus he was in the tail turret for the whole engagement, running back to his crash station with only moments to spare before the Sunderland, down to only one engine, alighted on the very rough water. The engagement went on for almost two hours and before running out of ammunition, the Sunderland gunners managed to shoot down one of the attacking Ju88s. However, with only one of its four engines still operating, the aircraft was forced to ditch into the sea, in less than ideal conditions.

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj318/seewhy49/E461shootdown4.jpg
Sunderland E 461, with only # 3 (or ‘starboard inner’ in the RAF/RAAF parlance of the day) still operating, on very short finals just prior to alighting on the sea. Cannon shell splashes from the attacking Ju88s can be seen just forward of the # 3 engine. It being patently obvious that the aircraft was going down, the RAAF crew could not understand why the Germans kept firing at them right up to the point where the aircraft alighted onto the sea. The answer did not come until after the war, when they learned that under the system the Germans used to award kills, the kill went to the last man to hit the aircraft prior to its crashing. Hence every one of the Ju88 crews, (apart from the photographer CO, who was circling above directing the attacks), was attempting to be the one who could claim the kill.

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj318/seewhy49/E461shootdown11.jpg
Sunderland E 461 immediately after alighting on the sea. The 11 man crew hastily inflated their three life rafts, only to find two to be riddled with bullet holes, (one of the two that can be seen inflated here quite quickly deflated), so all 11, with two of them wounded, had to fit into and around the one remaining six man raft.

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj318/seewhy49/E461shootdown9.jpg
Sunderland E 461 sinking, the much-holed port wing first. The crew, still struggling to launch their life raft, can still be seen on the top of the fuselage. When the captain, Dudley Marrows, saw the Ju88 that took these photographs approach, he expected it to fire upon the survivors. He apologised to his crew for getting them into the predicament they found themselves in and instructed them to make ready to jump into the water if the Junkers commenced firing. The 11 men spent 17 hours in the water in the six man raft before being rescued the next day by HMS Starling.

Like many others who’d excelled in operations in the UK and Europe, Marrows, awarded a DSO and DFC for his service there, was treated shamefully by the RAAF upon his return to Australia late in the war. But that’s another story... that might come out in Peter’s notes.

Edited to add that what was most interesting (to me at least) was that Peter's daughter, who was with us when he showed me the photographs and told me the stories, had quite obviously not been aware of most if any of the details he related that day. I suspect there would be many families out there like that. Many if not most of that generation, so many of whom did the most extraordinary things in the war, were not given to talking much about it when they came home. I hope we can convince many more families to redress that, hopefully here, before it's too late.

thegypsy
14th Oct 2009, 10:17
Question for regle/cliffnemo or anyone else

Who decided when you move up a rank in the RAF during the war?

I have just been looking at my father's service record which I got for £30 from Cranwell.

It says 12.12.37 Authorised to wear flying badge RAFVR as Sgt Pilot

24.8.40 P/O

12.11.40 Acting F/O

22.8.41 F/O

3.7.41 Act Flt Lt

28.8.42 Flt Lt

It seems that going from P/O to F/O to Flt Lt was on a yearly interval based on surviving still. What was the point of the Acting rank in between?

Was there a set time for going from Sgt Pilot to P/O? Did everyone apart from Cranwell types start as Sgt Pilots?

cliffnemo
14th Oct 2009, 10:39
Wizzo WARMTOAST,
Like this ?
ö HÖREN

Takes me back to D.O.S , A.S.KI and I.B.M 286s with 20 M.B hard disks. Many thanks. but will say 'Aufweider sehen' in future, that's if we receive any replies from Germany.

WILEY , FANTASTIC. Can't wait for your next post . A Wop Ag at last. Wish him 'Welcome, and all the best' from all of us. We only need a bomb aimer, and Nav, now

cliffnemo
14th Oct 2009, 10:55
GYPSY.
During MY period . At the end of the first year as sergeant pilot promoted to flight sergeant automatically, after the end of the second year promoted to W/O automatically . With regard to Cranwell, as far as I know Cranwell was solely for officer cadets, and we did not have any Cranwell officer cadets on our course, only university air squadron types. But please if any one can enlarge on, or correct this, do so.

green granite
14th Oct 2009, 12:51
cliffnemo the other way of getting characters is to type charmap into the run box and hit return, that will show all the characters in a chart and you just click and copy then paste.

I have it as a short cut on my desktop, done by going to (in explorer) windows, system32, charmap.exe, right clicking on it and left click on send to desktop.

andyl999
14th Oct 2009, 14:32
http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss278/regle999/RAF/5-091009.jpg

cliffnemo
14th Oct 2009, 15:48
Thanks green granite but who needs a character like this ῳ ?

regle
14th Oct 2009, 16:02
I think that this was taken when I was Instructing at the Empire Flying School, Hullavington and had finished my "Ops". The receding hair line and the Grey streak were tokens of the stress. I would be about twenty three years old. Reg

johnfairr
14th Oct 2009, 18:32
We had three fairly long cross-countries to do as tests before the Wings Test and also night-flying, which was interesting. The first cross-country was to Shawbury and back, which was a piece of cake. The second one was to Newport Pagnall, then Bourne, Devizes and back to Kidlington. That one was a bit longer, it took two hours and ten minutes, but I managed to find all the aerodromes, land and get marked in and marked out and get back again. It was the third cross-country that proved the most traumatic to most of us. We had to go to Stratford-on-Avon, Bromyard, Trowbridge, then back home. On the last leg, the weather closed in and there was a most colossal thunderstorm, you couldn’t see much at all, the rain was belting down and it wasn’t at all comfortable. Anyway, I had a quick prayer and hoping that my map-reading was as good as I hoped it was and thought it was, I managed to get through the storm and find my way back to Kidlington.

I think the storm must have had some effect on me because I did a beautiful circuit all around Kidlington and then, coming in to land over the hedge, I was somewhere about 600’ up, so unless I dive-bombed the aerodrome, I couldn’t get in and I realised this about halfway across. So I opened up, got into a circuit again, a proper circuit, and came in and landed. I felt quite pleased, actually. I’d managed to do the cross-country, I’d flown through some stinking weather, and I’d got the aircraft back without smashing everything up. When I got back to the dispersal, I found that several chaps had been put off, here, there and everywhere and landed in various spots because of the weather, so I felt quite chuffed with myself. But one of my chums came up to me and said,

“It’s a pity you couldn’t have watched yourself land, Robbie. Old Gaynor was watching you come in and was literally jumping up and down and shouting, saying “Look at bloody R********, he does the cross-country, comes through all the weather, and lands a 1000’ up!””

He was shrieking his head off apparently, but by the time I got there, I think he must have realised that I hadn’t done too badly so he didn’t say anything to me. He was a strange lad, though.

He must have thought I was a reasonable pilot after all that, though, because a couple of weeks later he called for me to get in a certain aircraft. He was coming with me and there were two other Flt Lts with him and I couldn’t understand what it was all about. Anyway he told me which way to fly and I flew and I finished up, as I gather now, on the Newmarket racecourse. The racecourse was on one side and the landing field was on the other side of the track. So we landed there, the officers got out and Gaynor turned round to me and said,

“Alright, Robbie, now fly it back!”

It wasn’t until I got back that I found out they were running The Derby from Newmarket on June 18th 1941. All he wanted to do was to use me as a taxi!

Our night-flying took place at Weston, which was a satellite, not too far from Kidlington and we used to fly over there late afternoon or early evening, wait until dusk, and then start our night landings. The lucky chaps were those who went off first, before it was actually pitch dark. They had at least a tiny bit of light to see where you were going. I’d never been very keen on night-flying, but I managed to do my requisite number of landings alright, except on one occasion when I got lost for about a quarter of an hour. It wasn’t very funny, although they had a fail-safe method, whereby if you got lost, you just flew round and round in circles flashing your identification lights and then the nearest searchlight would lay its beam down and point to the nearest aerodrome and you flew along the beam and hopefully saw the aerodrome. Fortunately I never had to use that method, after being lost for about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, I managed to find my way home and landed with a great sigh of relief.

I managed to get two weekend leaves whilst I was at Kidlington. On the first one, two or there of us hitch-hiked into London, which wasn’t too difficult as any lorry-driver or any sort of vehicle would stop and give you a lift to where you were going, provided it was near where they were going. Coming back you had to pay your own fare, but it was easier to get in to London than it was out. On the other occasion, as I said, Shadforth, my instructor, lived at Seven Kings and he had a car and happened to be going home at the same time as I was and so he dropped me almost outside the door and picked me up on the way back, which was very pleasant.

One thing I haven’t mentioned was that each Sunday there was a compulsory church parade in the morning. All polished and shiny, we’d line up and march behind the band about three quarters of a mile to where the hangar was that they had the church parade in. We never knew what the tune was, but they played it every Sunday, week after week after week, and eventually towards the end of the course, we learnt it was The Air Force March.

kookabat
14th Oct 2009, 22:20
Wowee, we almost have an entire bomber crew... and a fighter escort. This thread continues to amaze. I know I've said it before, but it's the little details about the every-day life that makes the history real. Don't stop, please!

Reg the last photo posted by Andy reminds me a little of a few studio portraits I've seen of Phil Smith, the pilot of my great uncle's crew. One was taken shortly after he arrived in England (from Australia) and shows a strikingly young, very fresh-faced Phil. Photos taken just a couple of years later - after a tour on Wellingtons then a second on Lancasters, and a four-month long evasion in occupied France - show a much older and wiser man.

There was a lot of growing up to be done, very quickly. And we are forever thankful that you all did.

-Adam

johnfairr
15th Oct 2009, 11:56
For late-joiners . . . . .


Verbatim transcription of tape-recordings by Flight Lieutenant RJH R******** RAFVR DFC, made in 1984, just after the birth of his first grandson, James. Transcribed by John R********, April 2007. In order to make the text more understandable, I have included notes, in italics, to clarify places, characters and timings.


We were now coming to the end of the course and so far had only one casualty. That was a Swiss chap who had some trouble and decided to make a forced landing and unfortunately picked a field where the width was only half as long as the length but the prevailing wind was across the width. Now if he’d had any sense he’d have done a cross-wind landing and taken the longer strip of field. As it was, he tried to get in on the short end, finished up in a hedge, wrote himself and the aircraft off.

Before the postings came up, we each had an interview with the Flight Commander and I presented myself to Flt Lt Gaynor who said,

“What do you want to fly?”

I naturally said “Day fighters!”

He said, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three”, I said.

“TWENTY THREE?? That’s far too old to fly fighters, I‘ll put you down for instructor”

We had quite an argument and he eventually agreed to arrange for an interview with the Wing Commander OC Flying, so I duly presented myself to the Wingco’s office and I’d scarcely got in the door before he started on me. The gist of his speech was, he was amazed and disgusted that I should question his authority. Did I presume to know better than he did what the RAF required? Never, according to him, had anyone been audacious enough to say they didn’t want to be an instructor. I should consider it an honour to be chosen as an instructor at my age. I thanked him for his time and said I’d take it up at the next station. Anyway, a couple of days later, Gaynor came rushing down to see me.

“Robbie, would you like to be a night-fighter pilot?”

I said “Yes, too true, I’ll do anything rather than be an instructor.”

Apparently one chap had been put down as night-fighter pilot and wasn’t at all keen and wanted to be an instructor and so happily got switched.

The Wings ceremony was something I shall never forget, maybe due to the fact that we didn’t have one! My friend the Wing Commander gave us a short talk after we’d finished our course, congratulating us on becoming pilots and then told us we’d collect our wings from the stores, which we did, and got them sown on, together with our Sergeant stripes. Frankly I couldn’t have cared less who gave me my wings, just so long as I got them, they were on my uniform and I was a Sergeant Pilot!

cliffnemo
15th Oct 2009, 15:13
In contrast, could I remind you of the way it was handled in America ? American relatives friends, and girl friends, came from far away . Group Captain Cunningham flew in , in a Mustang, seconds before the presentation, and presented the wings personally to each cadet.

But, I agree with F/L R.J.H , to us it didn't really matter how we received them.

andyl999
15th Oct 2009, 16:01
The Arnold scheme was sort of mass production of wings as there were 100 on each course (each month?) and eventually most passed, so a G/C could work in batches?

andyl999
15th Oct 2009, 16:07
you said:-

"Reg the last photo posted by Andy reminds me a little of a few studio portraits I've seen of Phil Smith, the pilot of my great uncle's crew. One was taken shortly after he arrived in England (from Australia) and shows a strikingly young, very fresh-faced Phil. Photos taken just a couple of years later - after a tour on Wellingtons then a second on Lancasters, and a four-month long evasion in occupied France - show a much older and wiser man. "

Yes I have to agree, most pilots seemed to have aged 10 yrs after their tour, I have mentioned this to Reg many times that the stress shows in their faces.

Much like our dear Prime Ministers, after a term in office seem to also age 10yrs!

johnfairr
15th Oct 2009, 17:08
I'm sitting here looking at a picture of my own graduation, shaking hands with an AVM, commissioning scroll in left hand, velcro-fastened 'N' brevet dangling off my No1!!

When I got back to my room in the mess, my batwoman, unbeknownst to me, had already sewn another brevet onto my No2. Girlfriend re-sewed the No1 with a silver coin behind it a day later . . . . :ok:

regle
15th Oct 2009, 17:33
The Arnold scheme certainly produced a lot of desperately needed Pilots but was far from being a "Mass Production". Of the 500 "Arnold cadets who formed the first (42A) class about 230 got their silver wings which were tough to get and, in the majority of cases, deeply cherished. Our Wings presentation was also a ceremony that I shall always remember with virtually the whole little town of Albany present to witness the solemn presentation of those solid silver wings , together with a beautifully inscribed Diploma which reads , " United States Army, (Underneath which is a drawing of the Wings) Southeast Air Corps Training Center... Be it known that (In my case ) L.A.C. Reginald Levy, Royal Air Force, has satisfactorily completed the course for Pilots in the Southeast Air Corps Training Center. In testimony whereof and by virtue of vested authority I do confer upon him this DIPLOMA Given at Turner Field, Ga. this 3rd. day of January in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and Forty-Two WALTER R. WEAVER, Major General, U.S. Army. Commanding, Southeast Air Corps Training Center. " This, framed , hangs behind me at the moment and is one of my most cherished posessions. Regrettably the wings that were pinned on my chest by said General Weaver were stolen when I returned to England but were replaced by my best friend who shall remain nameless but I think that you will know who it is.

The terrific "Ball"... that followed in the lush Georgia evening with the First Class Army Air Corps band swinging away with "Amapola", "Elmer's tune"," You are my Sunshine", Chatanooga Coo Choo" .... You name it they played it , will live in my memory forever. Never have girls been so beautiful and never has life been so wonderful. I was nineteen and some months old and I was the happiest adolescent in the world.
This Forum is all about "Gaining the pilot's brevet and I maintain that the achievement of so doing should be marked with something for you to remember all your life.

jimgriff
15th Oct 2009, 18:13
I have followed this thread with much interest and all of a sudden see reference to ABERYSTWYTH! Just happens to be where I live.
Recent events in one of the seafront hotels (Belle View Royal) have uncovered a load of wartime drawings under layers of wall paper which were discovered during renovations. Loads of pictures of aircraft and the sillouettes of "enemy" aircraft. It is thought that airmen billeted there during the war drew on the walls as a way of revising for tests!
The article was covered by the local paper and quite a bit put on the web before the rooms were redecorated.
Keep this thread going as it is really very interesting!:ok:
BBC NEWS | UK | Wales | Mid Wales | RAF war drawings found at hotel (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/wales/mid/6549573.stm)

Inspector Clueless
15th Oct 2009, 18:58
This is bloody marvellous stuff gents.

Thanks and keep it coming please.

IC:ok:

footpad6
15th Oct 2009, 19:35
Hi Guys,

Been reading this thread for a while, but can't remember if this film has been mentioned before. Apologies if it has, but probably worth a repost anyway. It runs for about an hour and the blurb below pretty much covers it.

Keep up the good work - this thread is a highlight of Pprune!

Link here;- Night Bombers (http://www.factualtv.com/documentary/Nightbombers)

Regards,

Footpad6




A unique record of the nightly air raids made on Germany during World War II. There are no actors – this is the real thing as it happened. Contains rare archive colour footage from No. 1 Group, Royal Air Force, in action, winter 1943. In the winter of 1943, RAF Bomber Command was sending massive raids almost every night into the heart of Germany. This is the story of one of them, an attack on Berlin, probably the most heavily defended target of them all and one which made terrible demands on the courage of the aircrew. On the long, cold and desperately dangerous missions over Northern Germany and back to a difficult landing in wintry England, thousands of men died or suffered ghastly injuries. One must imagine that they were terrified much of the time, but there is very little sign of doubt or anxiety on the brave faces in Iliffe Cozens’ film. Although certain scenes had to be re-created for technical reasons, make no mistake, the raid is a real one and there are no actors.

regle
15th Oct 2009, 22:47
If you look up my thread No.270 on page 14 you will see that I was actually billeted, with the rest of 'B' Flight, in the Marine hotel . In a beautiful position, right on the Sea front, turn right out, after coming down the steps and keep right on at a brisk pace for the morning trot up Constitution Hill which was an euphemism for Heart Attack Mountain. ! We had a long stay in lovely Aber which is described in that previous thread. I vaguely remember some of us drawing on the walls as there was a very good artist amongst us but, unfortunately, I don't recall his name but he did draw aircraft to help with the "Aircraft Recognition course" which consisted of silhouettes of British and German aircraft of that period being flashed for a split second on a screen and we had to quickly jot down it's name . It would certainly be whilst iIwas there as the aircraft you have shown were of that period i;e A Stirling and what looks like a "Wimpy" that has well and truly partaken of the hamburger loving character, in the "Daily Mirror", J.Wellington Wimpy, that it was fondly nicknamed after.
I have often thought of going back there for "Auld Lang Syne" but have not done so. I think that the axiom "Never go back" is fairly correct. Anyway, "Thanks for the memories." Reg

johnfairr
16th Oct 2009, 10:11
Hawarden, 57 Spitfire OTU – July 1941


We were given a weeks leave and went home to await the telegram, sending us off to the OTU. At that time Derek and Kay had a flat at 45 Gunterstone Road, West Kensington, which is, as you probably know, just behind the block of flats where you stayed when you were with IBM. We spent most of the time popping up and down to Town. Jack Ranger and I would meet Derek and Kay, do a round of the pubs, and either stay at Dereks’ or wander back home. Eventually, my telegram arrived, so I phoned them up to find out whether they had received telegrams. Derek was going to be an instructor anyway, but we thought we’d more or less go at the same time. But when I spoke to Jack Ranger and told him I was going to Hawarden, he said

“They were flying Spitfires up there, my brother was up there.”

I said they can’t be because we were supposed to be going on night-fighters, and they were Day. Anyway, I got my gear together and Mum (Connie R********, nee F*****) came and saw me off at Kings Cross and I said cheerio and away I went.

When I got to Hawarden I found that there was only about half a dozen of us who had come off Oxfords and the remainder had all been flying Masters, so they naturally had quite an advantage over us. We had to do a transfer course so that we could get some idea of a single-engined aircraft and the three instructors we had were Flying Officer Mitchell, Flight Lieutenant Freeborn and Flight Lieutenant Watkins. Freeborne was an ex-74 Sqn pilot, had a DFC and bar. Watkins was known as Derby Watkins and he was a great character, and he was the one who sent me off on solo. I did three hours and ten minutes dual on the Master and four hours and ten minutes solo and then on August 1st 1941 I was put in a Spitfire.

In those days there was no dual instruction on a Spitfire, it was all theory until we were told to get in and fly the thing. We had a Spitfire jacked up in a hangar, and this was wired-up in such a way that you could operate the flaps, the undercarriage and naturally, the ailerons and tail. We also did hours under the trainer which was used at BFTS (Basic Flying Training School) and SFTS (Spitfire Flying Training School). It’s difficult to explain what it was like to have my first flight in the Spitfire, because in all the other aircraft we’d flown, we’d always had an instructor with us to begin with until we were fully competent or near enough so. He would then get out and leave you to fly the aircraft yourself. With a Spitfire, you had all the theoretical knowledge, then you climbed in and the Flight Commander would lean over the cockpit and just give you a few last minute instructions, wish you good luck, and send you on your way. Now as you know, when a Spitfire is taxiing, you can’t see a thing over the front, because the engine is sticking up, so you had to taxi from side to side, waggling the tail, going along in a corkscrew sort of motion. While you’re doing this, and making sure you don’t hit anything, all sorts of things run through your mind. Like, having got so far, can you manage the Spitfire? And will you eventually come out at the end of the course alright?

Anyway, I managed to get to the end of the runway without hitting anything and having spied out the land and made sure no one was going to land on top of me, turned into wind, opened up and away I went. Now that is really some sensation. To begin with, in the old type Spitfire, you had a pump undercart, which meant that you selected “UP” when the wings lifted and you had sufficient flying speed, you then pushed the throttle fully forward, take your hand off the throttle and put it on the stick and with your right hand you’d pump like mad on the lever…….


End of tape 1.


Now on all the other aircraft I’ve flown, by the time you’d got the wheels up and were trundling along, you looked over your left shoulder and there was the aerodrome tucked in behind you. By the time I’d got the wheels up and got the rest of the cockpit check done and trimmed the aircraft, I looked round to find out where I was, I was half way to Rhyll! I made a very gentle turn and came back to the circuit, did the usual checks, undercarriage, mixture, flaps, brought it along to the upwind position and came in to land. I wouldn’t say it was the best landing I’ve ever done, but apart from a couple of bumps, I managed to bring the aircraft down and taxi back to the dispersal.

Having got the initial solo over it was merely a matter of getting as many hours in as you possibly could. We flew once or twice a day, for an hour, hour and a half each time, and began to find that the Spitfire was probably the most beautiful aircraft in the world.
It was a delight to fly, when you got to know it. It was very easy to fly and very quick on the controls. We’d do cine-gun firing, air-to-air, air-to-ground. The last bit was comical. We had a ground target not far from Rhyll, on the coast. Most of us missed the target and scared the living daylights out of the people in Rhyll, I think.

At this time we had another instructor posted to us, a Czech sergeant by the name of Sukor who I found out afterwards came from 72 Sqn., which didn’t mean a lot to me at the time. Anyway, Sukor would take us up and do formation flying and tail-chasing and so on, and we’d do our best to hang on to him, which was more than difficult, but whatever happened, we had to stay with him. And always, after whatever exercise he’d taken us on, he’d come down over the aerodrome at nought feet and belt along the perimeter track, climb up and do a roll off the top and we were supposed to try and follow him. One day he came in so low he nearly took the paint off the Group Captains’ aircraft, so that was all stopped.

After we’d done about ten or fifteen hours on Spits, we all felt as though we were budding aces, but I was brought down to earth with a bump in more ways than one. I’d been up doing formation flying earlier in the morning, came back and landed and the aircraft started to wander off to the right, as I landed. Now having got used to the Spit, where you scarcely touch anything and it whips around all over the place, I didn’t realise at the time that you could kick it about on the ground when you were taxiing and you could scarcely do any damage to it at all. Anyway, it drifted off to the right and I was using gentle left pedal to bring it back again, when nothing happened, it swung off the runway and finished up on its nose.

The Wingco Flying at this time was Wing Commander Billy Brown, DFC and bar. He’d been a pilot with 1 Sqn in France, and was a very nice chap. He listened to what I had to say about my crash and then explained that you could be a lot rougher on the ground with a Spitfire than you need to be in the air. He was quite nice about it, but my log book was endorsed with the note “Inexperience” against my entry for that day.

angels
16th Oct 2009, 12:53
Can't believe it has taken me this long to discover this thread. Incredible stuff.

My dad died a year and half ago. In my formative years all I knew of his history was that he'd been ground crew in the RAF during the war and had served in Burma amongst other places.

I grew up with a fascination about history and was especially interested in WW2. I started to ask dad about his experiences. He initially didn't talk too much about them.

This certainly wasn't because of bad memories -- indeed, despite a few hairy moments and not being demobbed until 1947 he loved his time in the RAF. I think it was just that he thought no-one would really be interested in the tales of an erk.

But I was. For years I pestered him to write his memoirs arguing that people were fascinated by stories of the ordinary man during this tragic and dramatic time.

In his later years he came around to my way of thinking and started on his memoirs. He wrote them longhand and had reached his demob in 1947 and that was the end of Part one of his life. He was about to start on Part two but, sadly, died suddenly.

Would you be interested in seeing relevent bits of his memoirs?

johnfairr
16th Oct 2009, 13:38
Angels, obviously a slow day on the cable et al if you can get through the whole thread this morning . . . . . . :E

As you can see from the eclectic posts, anything from your father and his time in the RAF would add to the understanding of all those interested in such things. This thread and its ilk are committing to paper and disk memories that might otherwise never see the light of day. You've mentioned afew of his escapades elsewhere, but I feel that this thread is probably their rightful place.

If it's anything like my father's contribution, I wish you luck with the transcribing - took me bloody ages, but a labour of love it certainly was.

All the best, chum!

angels
16th Oct 2009, 14:18
Actually been well busy on cable, but it's not my direct job now so took some time off to read from page 55 of this thread onwards. Will have to fit in the first 54 pages another time!

I'm rather hoping that my brother may already have already transcribed the memoirs, if not, I'll be well up for it. :ok:

There are various piccies as well, including one of him standing by a (USAAF) Dak in a jungle airstrip that managed to land right on top of another one! The two planes look like they're trying to make baby planes!

cliffnemo
16th Oct 2009, 16:05
ANGELS.

Your are more than welcome. Only an erk ? If it was't for the erks the 'job would have stopped'. Our PPrUNE friends want to know what it was like from the 'horses mouth' and historians rely on information like yours.

regle
16th Oct 2009, 22:16
Angels. Our lives were in the hands of our ground crews and they never , knowingly ,failed us. As proof, there were always "passengers" on our Air Tests and, I know for a fact, that there had been more than two or three cases of "stowaways" on actual "Ops". They must , of course, been stark, staring, ruddy mad ! But they trusted us and we trusted them.
The Forum is healthy and I heartily endorse Cliff's acclaim and welcome. The water's lovely. Come on in. Reg. More Sabena , if you so desire , when you want. I want to give our new and so welcome 'bods a chance.

Caractacus
17th Oct 2009, 06:16
Hi Guys,

Been reading this thread for a while, but can't remember if this film has been mentioned before. Apologies if it has, but probably worth a repost anyway. It runs for about an hour and the blurb below pretty much covers it.

Keep up the good work - this thread is a highlight of PPRuNe!

Link here;- Night Bombers Documentary - FactualTV (http://www.factualtv.com/documentary/Nightbombers)

Regards,

Footpad6

My wife and I (both in our forties with two young children) watched this film last night. I vaguely remember seeing an abridged version narrated by William Woolard of Tomorrow's World many years ago.

It really was a very moving film. Typically British, calm and understated. To think that all those young men, volunteers to a man, went through all that for our country makes me feel very proud. The whole Bomber Command organisation seems very impressive and it was all sorted using pen, paper and the telephone. Are we really that better organised with our computer technology?

I went to sleep thinking about the diverted Lancaster, with just enough petrol for one landing, on short finals to a dodgy FIDO lit flarepath. I know what it feels like to be below final reserve to a foggy airfield. But that's in a modern jet. That they sorted that out after a night bombing mission in such a basic aircraft really brings home to what they were up against.

The 22 year old Lancaster Captain featured in the film became an accountant and never flew again. Can't blame him!

More please, and do let's hear from the ground crew.

thegypsy
17th Oct 2009, 08:07
Talking of Lancasters and fog.

On 16/17th Dec 1943 21 Lancs set off from 97 Squadron RAF Bourn to bomb Berlin. One was lost without trace over the target but after one of the longest and I guess most dangerous of all targets EIGHT Lancasters crashed in the vicinity of RAF Bourn because of FOG on their return.

I wonder what kind of fuel reserves they usually had? No doubt this was one of their longest range of targets so probably none was available.

How tragic to survive getting to Berlin and back only to crash because of fog.

Caractacus
17th Oct 2009, 11:18
I was brought up near RAF Wattisham. An old man who had been in the Home Guard told me about the night that a Lancaster force landed in a field after running out of fuel in the 'stack'. He told me how the aircraft landed intact but that the fuselage snapped in two as it crossed a ditch. The Home Guard ran to the rescue. I can still remember his incredulous comment in a broad Suffolk accent:

"Eight of they buggers we found in there bor !"

They all survived apparently.

GordonPDavis
17th Oct 2009, 15:29
In contrast to your 'Wings' presentation?? ours was a wonderful affair. I was at 3BFTS Miami Oklahoma and the Commanding Officer, Wing Commander Roxburgh sent invitations to attend the Wings presentation far and wide. Some 18 Americans and 80 RAF lads had their Wings pinned on by an American Army General in the afternoon followed by a grand dance in the evening.

http://i883.photobucket.com/albums/ac31/gordonpdavis/200pp10001.jpg?t=1255717521

One of my proudest moments.

Several of us had made friends with an American family who lived some 200 miles from Miami. These friends received an invitation to attend the presentation and drove all the way from Independence, Missouri to Miami. They watched us receive our wings and enjoyed the dance in the evening. They overnighted in Miami and drove back to Missouri the next day.

The evening dance was attended by us pilots, friends, 3BFTS staff, our flying instructors and girls from the local High School. It was customary to present each of our instructors with a parting gift to show appreciation of their work. Most instructors were friendly guys but my instructor was not quite so friendly! His favourite expression was "Davis, my ******* grandmother can fly this ******* aircraft better than you". Nevertheless we decided to give him a box of his favourite cigars. We gave him his present and tears came to his eyes. He exclaimed that it was the first present he had been given. He shook our hands, told us to be careful when we returned to England and to shoot down one of the b******s for him!

Gordon Davis

cliffnemo
17th Oct 2009, 16:34
Sorry Gordon, think my post about wings presentation was intended for Johnfairr.(See post 1206 Johnfairr) I get muxed ip easily these days.
Keep up the good work, it brings back many memories to me. Reminds me of when I devised a new method of flying 'under the hood' (previously mentioned), and decided to use it the following day. The idea was to use the rate of climb indicator to fly straight and level, not knowing that there was a delay of about four seconds before the needle moved. This resulted in a large up and down movement of the aircraft which didn't cease until my not very patient instructor shouted "Sh one dot T son, I have a lil ol sister who can fly better than you" He never tried to find out the cause, which I think a good instructor would have done. I am sure I would have done so if our positions had been reversed.

kookabat
18th Oct 2009, 03:26
While people are talking about wings presentations, may I add a photo from the Australian perspective?

http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee27/kookabat/Bomber%20Command/A05-015-001.jpg

The airman receiving his wings in this photo is P/O DPS (Phil) Smith, the date is 28 May 1941 and the location is No 3 Service Flying Training School at Amberley, Queensland. Phil's parents were invited to the ceremony, as evidenced by a small card from the Commanding Officer.

Phil would go on to become a Squadron Leader and complete two tours, one on Wellingtons then one on Lancasters. He survived at least two crash landings in Wellingtons and was shot down on his 51st operation over Lille in France, 10 May 1944. He was the only survivor of 12 aircraft shot down that night, evaded capture and returned to the UK in September 1944. My great uncle was his navigator which is where my connection lies.

Thank you all. Carry on!

regle
18th Oct 2009, 10:17
I think that the very interesting spate of wings memories makes my previous point that the achievement of "wings" should always be made a moment that would stay with you for all your life.
I have often wondered what, apart from the obvious effect of wartime flying, has been the impact of those hard won wings on one's life ?
I can answer that, in my case, having spent nearly three years of my life in the air , that it gave me, literally, a completely new dimension and made me realise that, when faced with hard decisions or even smaller problems, you were not "earthbound" and could look at a problem from other angles....possibly I am now discussing "lateral" thinking ?

I just thought that I would throw this thought into the Arena. What difference, if any, have those wings made to you ? Reg.
For Cricketers. I have just noticed "Post"222. A Double Nelson. Where did that come from, Horatio ?

cliffnemo
18th Oct 2009, 10:56
congratulating us on becoming pilots and then told us we’d collect our wings from the stores,
Nuff said.
Vide JOHNNFAIRR post 1206

GordonPDavis
18th Oct 2009, 11:42
My pal, Harry Cowdrey, at 3 BFTS had a good instructor named Ted Yachachak, a Miami Indian. One day Harry asked his instructor what yachachak meant. He replied "Big Indian chief who fly in sky". My instructor was a right S oh D.

One day I was landing an AT6. Things were going all wrong, all I could do was fly with rudder full left and control column hard right to maintain a straight course. My instructor yelled out "Davis you are flying this ******* aircraft cross controlled. I ignored him and landed successfuly. On the ground we noticed that the right flap was up but the left flap down. I waited for congratulations on making a good landing with one flap up, the other down, but not a word!

Gordon

johnfairr
18th Oct 2009, 17:31
It wasn’t all hard work at Hawarden, we managed to get the odd afternoon off and used to go into Chester, go to Blossoms and have a meal, visit the pubs. It was all quite pleasant. And the people were nice, even though we used to scare the daylights out of them, I think, sometimes, with our flying.

We had a few Australian pilots on the course with us and they were a nice bunch, and I kept in touch with one of them, Roy (?) for quite some time during the war. An invitation to join him for a few quiet drinks was not to be taken lightly. They always seemed to be the same sort of round whoever the bar-tender used to be.

We still had the odd ground lecture and on one occasion we were told that we’d have a talk on how to bale out of an aircraft and that was given by a Flying Officer Jim Bill Oliver, who became a flight commander with 111 Sqn in North Africa. He was a nice chap, but although he’d been in the B of B, he wasn’t operational, so he hadn’t done anything, and neither, as he pointed out, had he ever baled out of an aircraft. Consequently, we were as much in the dark after the lecture had finished, as we had been before it started.

We got to the end of the course and the postings came up and we found out that none of us were being posted to 11 Group, but four of us were being kept back to go with the next flight and be used as sort of semi-instructors, to get more time in. Now of the top four in our course, I’m pleased to say that each one had trained on Oxfords not Masters, so we felt quite chuffed over that. The best pilot we had was an Irishman by the name of Pat Lust and he was absolutely terrific in a Spitfire. Even the instructors were quite staggered when he went up and dog-fought them. After we left Hawarden I never saw Lust again, but when I went up to have an interview for my commission in 1942, I was speaking to one of the chaps in the squadron he’d joined, 222, and heard that a wing had come off a Spit when he was diving and the thing had gone straight into the ground and he had been killed, which seemed a great pity. Had he managed to get out I’m sure he would have made quite a score.

Whilst on the extended part of the course at Hawarden, we did a lot more aerobatics and formation flying and on one occasion I was teaching one of the Australians formation flying. We’d been going round for some time, the weather wasn’t too good, but he wasn’t awfully good himself. If I asked him to come in close, he’d either come tearing up behind me or slide in and put his wing through my cockpit. On one occasion were doing a turn in formation and he came in far too close, so I pulled up to get away from him and disappeared into cloud. Not wishing to come back and collide with him, I carried on up and out the other side and all I could see was 10/10ths cloud all over the place. So I came down rather gingerly, got through the cloud, or most of it and I couldn’t see very much. Suddenly it seemed as though the grass was running vertically from top to bottom instead of alongside, so I gave the stick a hell of a yank and there was a crunch and I continued on. I wasn’t very happy about it, but eventually the cloud cleared and the engine still ran smoothly, the aircraft seemed to be alright, so I trundled on down and found myself off the coast. So I just turned right and followed the coast at nought feet all the way round, got up to the Dee, came along the canal, which was a good pointer and the visibility by this time had become a lot better, so I climbed up to about 10,000’, slowed down and tried the wheels and flaps. Everything seemed to work alright, so I took the wheels and flaps up, flew back to Hawarden, still very high, and called up dispersal and told them I’d hit a hill, and I’d tried everything and everything seemed to work and what should I do? Come in with the wheels down and hope for the best or come in on a belly-landing?

There was some deliberation down below and eventually xxxx, who was one of the instructors there at the time, said, well if everything works, come in and try a normal landing. So I came down lower and by this time they’d got an ambulance out and a fire-engine and they were all sitting on the runway as I came in very gingerly. Of course there were quite a number of people standing around watching, because they’d all heard what had happened. Anyway, I landed alright and taxied back to the dispersal and got out very relieved. When we inspected the aircraft, we found that the radiator had been smashed and flattened into the underside of the starboard wing, although the prop wasn’t damaged and there was no other damage to the aircraft at all. Everyone reckoned I’d been fairly lucky and I had to agree, but nothing more was said.

Ginger Lacey was the Flight Commander at the time and he thought it was quite a joke, but a number of people didn’t believe that I’d hit the top of a hill, but the evidence was there and I was all in one piece and so again, I was quite happy.

kevmusic
18th Oct 2009, 22:56
Bl**dy Hell!! :eek::eek:

regle
19th Oct 2009, 09:03
John, son of "Fairrly " lucky.I, literally, gasped when I read your Father's typical understatement. Fairly lucky,,, words fail me ! Talk about "smelling of violets' ! Keep them coming but I fail to see how you can top that. Reg

johnfairr
19th Oct 2009, 09:38
First operational posting – 111 Sqn, North Weald – October 1941

The postings came through and I found that I’d been posted to 111 Sqn at North Weald, which was absolutely ideal for me, being not far from Woodford, where Mum was living.

During the leave we did our usual trip or two up to London and on one occasion we went up to the Queen’s Brasserie with several Australian chaps who were in the flight I had just left at Hawarden and had a very pleasant evening. A few beers here and there and tipping the waiter each time he brought a round and finally, when we were just going, one of the Australians tipped the waiter who, for some reason or another, turned round and said,

“Do you think that is sufficient, sir?”

Now as we had been tipping him all evening, the Australians took a pretty dim view of this, so one of the chaps said to the waiter,

“Well how much did we give you?”

So the waiter held his hand out with the money in it, so the Australian took the money back, picked him up and shook him and mentioned quietly that he was very lucky to be in one piece, and with that we left.

At the end of the leave, I got my gear together and said goodbye to Mum, as I didn’t know how long it would be before I would see her again, and went off to North Weald. Now when I arrived there, they were a nice bunch and flying had finished for the day so they took me into the Mess, had a nice meal and a couple of beers and chatted for a while and then as I wasn’t operational, they said, well you don’t have to stay the night if you don’t want to. So I said, right, jumped out of North Weald aerodrome, hitch-hiked back to Woodford, spent the night with Mum, got up at crack of dawn, walked up to the top of the road, by the church in the High Road (All Saints Church, Woodford Green, where my mother and father eventually married in June 1943)and hitch-hiked a lift with a builders lorry, which took me as far as Epping and I hitch-hiked again to North Weald, got there about half past eight and all was well. No one worried whether I was there or not.

I was taken down to the dispersal that morning and met the CO, a Squadron Leader Brotches, a little tiny man, but very, very pleasant; he’d been in the B of B and a very good leader, so I’d heard. We chatted, he asked me what I’d done on Spits and said,

“Ah, we’ve got a funeral tomorrow morning, you can be part of the funerals escort.”

Apparently some chap had been shot up, landed badly, and killed himself at North Weald, so he was being buried not too far from North Weald, but quite where I don’t know and that was my first experience of being on an operational station.

I was put in an aircraft and told to fully acquaint myself with the local area. Now I would have thought that someone would have come with me on the first trip and showed me the various points, but no, they just said take the aircraft up, have a look round and find out where you are, which I did. I flew all round Essex, up and down, looked at the coast, saw the Blackwater, tootled round, came back and then sat!

My first operational trip with 111 was a convoy patrol just off the East Coast. Before that I’d done about ten hours flying, a couple of cannon tests and formation flying and on this convoy patrol, I felt quite big, sitting in the aircraft, knowing that the guns were fully loaded and I was in charge. But in fact nothing happened at all, I just followed my No.1, ambled up and down the convoy, thinking any minute now we were going to be attacked by hundreds of 109s, and swivelling round and round and looking everywhere. In fact nothing happened at all, so for an hour and a quarter we stooged up and down the North Sea and then got called back. But a least I felt I was getting somewhere and it was quite a nice sensation.

Now the first time I went across to France it was October 20th and I’d been with 111 a fortnight then. We had to do a sweep to Dunkirk, which I see took and hour and fifty minutes, which seems an awful lot. There were a number of Czech pilots on 111 and I was flying behind one, whose name I must admit I’ve forgotten and I was on this sweep. I was told to just stick with him and to do everything he did and to keep an eye out for enemy aircraft. Well they could have flown up and down and across me for all I knew, I had my work cut out trying to hang on to this Czech pilot, but I just hoped that he knew more about it than I did, and if anything came up he’d look after me. But I must admit I felt somewhat vulnerable being the other side of Dunkirk and actually being over France. It’s not so bad when you’re over the Channel, because you think, well, if you’re shot down you‘ve got a very fair chance of being picked up and brought back, but over France it wasn’t so funny. Now as it happens, I’ve got a note in my log book, which says “No flak, no 109s.” It doesn’t alter the fact that your stomach still turns over and your nerves are still twitching just flying over there.

Out of circulation for a few days, more excerpts at the end of the week. JF

regle
19th Oct 2009, 17:38
My appointment as a Senior First Officer was confirmed and Dora, with the three children, flew out to join me in August 1952. She was very happy with the house and furniture. The children loved their separate rooms and were very impressed by the downstairs toilet ,next to the front door.

In 1952 Sabena were operating with D.C.3's and Convair 240's on the European routes and with D.C.4's and '6's on the African and N.American lines (Long Courier as they called it ). The Belgian Congo was the absolute "bread and butter" for the Company and Sabena also operated all the internal Congo lines. The pilots employed in the Congo were on totally different contracts and had no place on the Parent Company's seniority list.

As a Senior First officer I was placed straight away on the "long courier sector". In addition to our basic salary we were paid on number of flying hours flown and long courier was definitely the highest paid of the sectors. At that time we flew as crews and my Captain was a charming man called Serge Tabutaut and I was made very welcome by the whole crew. The only snag was that, contrary to modern practice, the First Officer never touched the controls for take-off and landings and was the general factotum, making out the flight plans, checking the load sheet, meteorology and taking the controls whilst the Captain socialised with the passengers during the long and arduous flights. A typical D.C.4 flight between Brussels and Leopoldville (Leo) ,as Kinshasa was then called, would take at least eighteen hours.

We were settling down in Belgium very well. We threw the children straight in at the deep end and sent them straight to a French speaking school in Evere where they were made very welcome.
The first day ,Anthony aged three, came home and said "They're all mad. They can speak but they don't know what they are saying". Soon after he told us "We had "lait" today; tasted just like milk ". In a very short time, well under three months ,they were all chattering happily away with their newly made friends and arguing furiously in fluent French. In fact it became mandatory that they spoke English at home as, very soon , French took over and they preferred to speak it as that was where they were obtaining their vocabulary. The speed at which the children picked up French was exemplified ,one day ,when I was sitting in the toilet which was next to the front door. The doorbell rang and little Anthony answered. To my horror I heard him say "Peter et Linda jouent, Mama fait les courses et mon Papa faire Ka-Ka" !

We were living at 87, Rue Jan van Ruisbeck in Evere and there was a small general shop nearby on the Ave. Henri Coscience. The owner, M. Leon, like everyone in Belgium, including the Postman and all the Tram Conductors, spoke English. He took us under his wing and would give full culinary details on everything that we purchased. The first joint of "Rosbif" that Dora bought weighed barely 200 grammes but M.Leon told her to cook it for six minutes each side as beef must be rare. To us Heathens, meat had to be cooked forever but we soon became converts and were then , in September, introduced to the National dish, Moules et Frites. 1 kg.of Mussels per person and the frites had to be dipped in home made mayonnaise, never Ketchup ! I must confess that it is still my favourite dish and I made myself some last night but have to make do with Calve Mayonnaise which is the nearest thing to homemade.

One day there was a ring at the bell and a very nice lady introduced herelf to Dora in a broad Yorkshire accent. She was Madge Dubois, living nearby and she and her family were to become lifelong friends. Marcel, her husband, was an Insurance agent and I am eternally indebted to him for his kindness and help in smoothing our path through the initial difficulties iof settling down in Belgium. He made sure that we were insured against all possibillities and had us in stitches with the list of things that we had to guard against. "If your house burned down ,your neighbours will have have to go to a Hotel whilst it is being rebuilt and if they are bitten by your dog etc. etc. " Nevertheless , he gave me sound advice and I never regretted any insurance that I took out with Marcel. tragically, Madge was killed in a car accident in the U.S. and Marcel was badly injured. They were on holiday celebrating their 25th. Wedding Anniversary when a drunken driver smashed into their car.

Anthony came in crying one day because the Belgian kids were calling him "a Puppy ". "I'm not a puppy" he sobbed. Turned out that they were calling him "Petit poupee" as he was so cuddly (Little Doll). Linda's best friend was called "Toc-toc" because she was, (with a finger placed to the forehead ), quite crazy !" Another British neighbour was Pat Hemblenne, the wife of the Sabena Navigation Leader, Albert. She had steel false teeth which were all the mode in Belgium at that time and it was like going alongside a battleship when they were flashed at you. She would come round for tea in the mornings and Dora would get the teapot out and Pat would say "Sure and put a wee drop o' gin in it".

I had made one or two trips on the European sector in order to familiarise myself with the aerodromes around and with general flying procedures. My first trip was in the jump seat of a D.C.4 taking passengers to Frankfurt. The First Officer suddenly started waving in his
right window. I looked over and nearly jumped out of my seat. There was another Sabena D.C.4 tucked in, in tight formation on our starboard wing with the passengers all waving at one another. "That's De C......t " he said naming one of the Sabena Senior Captains. Truly the R.A.F. spirit still existed in 1952 in Sabena. Regle

angels
20th Oct 2009, 08:10
Back again. Dad's memoirs have not been transcribed yet so I'll be doing them. I'll pop them up as I do them, although I doubt I will be as efficient at doing so as the laudable Mr Fairr (enjoy Liverpool old boy, give my love to the Adelphi and the KFC opposite).

This thread has also reminded me that I must get Dad's Burma Star blazer mounted, along with his medals.

Thanks. :ok:

cliffnemo
20th Oct 2009, 10:55
Angel, Don't worry about 'efficiency' just ' ger it down in the book' ( P.C Dixon of Dock Green) We don't have any pedants on here like the example below, entitled 'Awards for poor journalism on PPrUNE.'
I feel a bit guilty as there were no more posts after I claimed the award.

Actually, that's the correct way of spelling Stanstead.
No, it's Stansted, as in Stansted Mountfichet, the local town.
Actually, that's the correct way of spelling Stanstead.
That's how you spell Stanstead. There can only be one way of spelling Stanstead.
However, if it's Stansted you mean, then that's different.



-----------------------FINAL POST BY --------------------------
cliffnemo



I claim the award. My blog must contain the most inaccuracies ever. I don't care any more.
CLIFFNEMO.

So don't worry about efficiency Angel, get weaving.

[QUOTE]

regle
20th Oct 2009, 12:22
Chaps, don't keep "harping" on Angel. He's showing plenty of "pluck" ! Reg.

thegypsy
20th Oct 2009, 13:21
regle

How long did it take when you were in Sabena before you were allowed to do a take off and landing? Was it company policy?

Must have been really frustrating for someone of your experience! Perhaps you got your command quickly?

regle
20th Oct 2009, 16:14
Gypsy, I flew on "Long Courier" from August of 1952 until June of 1954 as a First officer and made about four landings in that time and, as far as I can remember, never made a take-off. I was lucky, as many of the others never even touched the controls. I am not grumbling because it was the same treatment as all the others were getting and it was deemed normal. I am certainly not grumbling at the speed at which I was given a Command , just under two years, as no other Airline could match Sabena for the speed of promotion due to the importance of the Company in relation to the size and population of the Country which was only nine million strong that was the population of London, alone ,at that time. Plus the Belgian Congo was of vital importance to the Country and strong links had to be maintained I am also grateful for the fact that I learned an enormous amount by performing all the duties of a First Officer so knew what to expect when I eventually got my command. Above all it taught me a lot about patience and curbing my natural instincts to "take over" and use a quiet word of advice, put in a tactful manner instead. But there were one or two times.........! Regle.

airborne_artist
20th Oct 2009, 16:26
Regle - what had all the existing Sabena Captains done during the war?

regle
20th Oct 2009, 22:08
The adventures of the majority of existing Sabena Captains when I joined them in 1952 could fill a book. Most of them had become Spitfire Pilots but one of the Directors had been on Lancasters. There were many D.F.C.'s amongst them. Two of them, one a mere Sgt. and the other a Group Captain had stolen an old biplane, I do not know the make, and had successfully out manoeuvred a ME109 and reached England safely. The hardships endured by some in the long and dangerous escapes to England in tiny boats were almost beyond description. Their contribution to the R.A.F. was tremendous and and their reaction to the welcome that we gave them was shown in their treatment of the 30 British pilots that were taken on by Sabena in 1952 of which, nearly all, finished long and happy careers in Belgium. I never stopped admiring their courage. Reg.

johnfairr
22nd Oct 2009, 15:34
By this time, most of us were anxious to get as many hours in on Spits as possible and we were often chatting and saying how many hours have you got and so forth and one day we asked one of the Czech pilots, Ruby, how many hours he had. He took his long cigarette holder out of his mouth and said,

“Hmm, about Too Tousant!”

He was a great chap and a terrific pilot and a great player of Cravat, which he taught me and used to take quite a bit of money off me in the process. He would also challenge people to play him at Shove Ha’penny, for sixpence a game and he would come up and say,

“We play for sixpenzz? A schillink is better!”

Long after I’d left 111 Sqn and after I’d come back from North Africa, I met up with my old Flight Commander on 111, Laurie Clifford-Brown and he told me a story of Ruby, which I don’t think has gone too far, which is probably just as well. Apparently when they were stationed at Debden, they used to do Rhubarbs, which as you probably know, are two aircraft, going into low cloud, flying across to France, nipping out of the cloud and shooting up anything you could find, nipping back into cloud and coming home. On this occasion, Ruby and The Honourable Wentworth Beaumont, or Wendy Beaumont as we used to call him, were told to go up on a Rhubarb, so they took off from Debden, flew low over the sea, then up into cloud, came down again over the sea, up to the coast, up over the cliffs and Windy saw a train, which they proceeded to shoot up then tore back into cloud and returned to Debden. When they got back, they were quite surprised to be called into the Station Commander’s office, to find out exactly what they’d done and what they’d been shooting at. So they told the station CO, they’d seen this train, shot it up. Did they do much damage? Yes, quite a bit, back into cloud, no damage to them, and got home. The only snag was, the train they’d shot up, was just off Margate!

It was obviously all hushed up, but Ruby got quite a rocket from the Station Commander. It didn’t affect him a great deal, he pretended he couldn’t understand English, which was very untrue, so they got another Czech pilot in with him and the Station Commander was blasting Ruby up hill and down dale and the other Czech pilot was translating for Ruby, who was just standing there as though he was the soul of innocence. I don’t know what happened to Wendy Beaumont, he probably got a Knighthood for it later on!

One day we were told we were going to have a coach trip to Harwich and Felixstowe to have a look over some Motor Gun Boats and corvettes and whatever else was there and see how the other half lived. It was more than interesting inasmuch as a couple of the gunboats had just come in having shot up some Jerries, just off Ostende, and they were quite pleased with life. When we started chatting to them we found that one the boats had recently picked up one of the chaps from 111 Sqn who’d baled out in the Channel, so it was all very jovial. Some of us were taken out in a corvette, where we were treated like lords by the Naval types, who gave us tins of tobacco, pounds of butter and all sorts of things that we didn’t get, but that they got Duty Free.

Coming back we were supposed to stop at Colchester station for a couple of coffees and a bun, before proceeding back to Debden or North Weald; I forget which station we came from at that time. Anyway, we went into the waiting room and then into the buffet, had our coffee and so forth, went down under the subway and got back into the coach. Now, we’d got to Colchester somewhere about half past eight and by the time we’d wined and dined there, we got back in the coach about half past nine and they found there were six people missing – all the Czech pilots. There was nothing we could do, we just had to sit there. So we sat and we sat till about half past eleven, when, lo and behold, all the six Czech pilots arrived. Naturally the Flight Commander who was in charge, did his nut, started screeching as was his wont, and it turned out that whilst we were on Colchester station and before we’d come under the subway, a train had come into Colchester and just stopped and it stood there for the best part of two hours before moving out. Now the Czechs, not knowing what to do, waited for the train to go; they knew they had to get across to the other side of the station some how or other, and when the train left, they climbed down on the railway, across the lines, up on the other platform and across and back to the coach. When the CO said,

“Why the hell didn’t you come with us?”

All they could say was, “Train in way, yes? Train in way, yes?” and that was the end of that.

airborne_artist
22nd Oct 2009, 20:13
Obituary of Wenty/Wendy Beaumont (http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/obituaries/article807474.ece) (cf above)

"The 3rd Viscount Allendale had an action-packed youth, reminiscent of a Boys Own Paper adventure story. He was barely 20 when, as a Second World War officer in the RAF Volunteer Reserve, and having flown 71 missions in Spitfires, in 1942 he was shot down while attacking a flak ship off Valchesen, Holland. He crash-landed and, with a badly wounded knee, was captured and spent the next three years in Stalag Luft 3."

JF - try http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/obituaries/article807474.ece

johnfairr
22nd Oct 2009, 20:57
AA,

Getting Error 404 on that link . . .

BEagle
23rd Oct 2009, 07:13
Flight Lieutenant The Hon Wentworth Hubert Charles Beaumont — known as “Wenty” - was born in West Yorkshire, on September 12, 1922. He inherited the title Viscount Allendale and died in Northumberland on December 27, 2002, aged 80.

johnfairr
23rd Oct 2009, 09:30
111 Sqn moves from North Weald to Debden – November 1941

In November we moved from North Weald to Debden. No one was particularly pleased about it. I certainly wasn’t, because it was a long hike from Debden to Woodford, whereas from North Weald it was a piece of cake. Anyway, we were there and that was that. By this time I was sharing a room with Tony Johanson**, the only Icelandic pilot in the Air Force and the papers made a big thing of him. He was always being asked to go out to his aircraft and stand there and pose for pictures and we got inundated with pictures of Tony Johanson. There’d be Tony Johanson, standing on the wing, looking out for enemy aircraft, Tony Johanson taking off, Tony Johanson landing. He used to get the Mickey taken out of him like mad, but he was an awfully nice bloke, very quiet and he thought these paper antics a bit much, but he had to put up with it for the sake of the publicity.

I’d said what a bind it was getting from Debden back to Woodford. Well one day I got away fairly early in the evening and caught the train I hoped would get me back to Woodford fairly well. Anyway, by the time I’d got up to London and back again to Woodford, it had gone half past ten at night. There were no lights on at 76 Kings Avenue and I knew Mum was in bed at the back, so I went round the side and kept flinging my hat up at the window to wake her up. I didn’t wake her, I woke Ferdie, (Ferdie F*****n, FAF, father-in-law-to-be-of RJHR) who came along to find out what the noise was. Anyway, I saw Mum for a little time, I think we had a cup of tea or something and at about 11 or 12, I started coming back to Debden. I missed all the trains that would have got me there and I eventually got the first train to the nearest station to Debden about five o’clock in the morning from Liverpool Street, hitch-hiked from the station to the aerodrome, got there just in time for breakfast.

**
In 1993 I was working for IBM in their London offices at South Bank, just by Waterloo. I had a very pleasant, modern office, overlooking the Thames, with floor to ceiling glass walls on the inside. When I moved there I took a number of photographs with me to brighten up my environs. Family shot, an F-4, naturally, and a picture of my father shaking hands with King George VI at Biggin Hill in 1942. Somewhat incongruous, I know, given the plethora of PCs and other hi-tech kit that abounded. One day a chum of mine, Malcolm Lillie, was visiting the floor and noticed the photos. He popped his head round the door and asked about them, "Who's that, then, JF?" When I explained, he said, "My uncle was at Biggin Hill about then, ask your Old Man if he ever came across him? He was the only Icelander to fly in the RAF!"

regle
24th Oct 2009, 15:09
Let's take this Icelandic coincidence a little further....Back in the 1960's and 70's when I was flying Sabena 707's down to Leopoldville, as the Belgian Congo capital was then known, we used to see quite a lot of the Air Congo Pilots who were permanently based there to fly the internal flights . They were employed by Sabena who ran "Air Congo" but, much as they tried , were never considered as being on the Brussels based Seniority list, but were purely locally engaged on seperate contracts which were very generous.

We were very friendly with most of them and I was particularly friendly with ....you have guessed it,...the only Icelandic Pilot and his Wife. He was always known as Tony Johnsson but could well have been your Father's friend . I think that you have said that it is from taped recordings that you have given us the pleasure of sharing these wonderful and poignant memories so Johnson would sound like the spelling that you have given to what must have been the same man. I had often been to their place in Leo and shared many a liquid evening with them As I recall, his Wife was the daughter of a very high Icelandic dignitary: he could have been the Mayor of Reykjavik. I can't say that I remember anything of what he used to tell us about his R.A.F. days but I do know that he served with the RAF. Small World , eh ? All the best , Reg L.

GordonPDavis
24th Oct 2009, 18:43
As I have explained in a previous post I transferred fro the RAF to the Fleet Air Arm.

I guess my first flight in a Spitfire was much the same as yours. Rather frightening hurtling along the runway with no instructor but things happened so quickly there was no time to worry. For several weeks I was still in the RAF but eventually the transfer came through and I was posted to RNAS Henstridge and practised dummy deck landings. Half a dozen black lines painted across the runway to simulate arrestor wire and a batman guiding you down.

Then came the strangest flight I ever made, a back to front affair Train journey to Ayr where half a dozen of us were allocated Seafires. Flew out to sea and found an Escort Carrier. We all landed successfully and then took off from the carrier. Most unusual that the first flight was a landing and then a take off.

The Spitfire was certainly a wonderful aircraft to fly. I felt that I was part of the aircraft - lean to the left and the aircraft turned left, lean back and the aircraft climbed. One advantage of flying from a carrier was not having to zig zag when taxying. No taxying necessary and no fear of boiling the coolant.

Gordon Davis

johnfairr
24th Oct 2009, 20:26
Again, a lengthy extract, including some previously posted material. I have included it so as to keep the continuity of the memoirs

Posted to 72 Sqn – December 1941, Gravesend

We drew for Christmas leave and I was lucky enough to get it. One of the reasons, I think, that I was posted to 72 Sqn, was because at that time they’d gone through a rough patch and had lost a number of pilots and were going round 11 Group trying to scrape up some more. So two of us were posted from 111 to 72, which meant I didn’t get my Christmas leave.

I wasn’t particularly experienced, as you can imagine, by this time, but in any case, when you had to post someone from your Squadron, you never give the best pilots you’ve got, you always find some reason to give them, to whoever is asking, a pilot who has either just reported to you that week or been with you a fortnight. This happened to me in reverse later on.

The two of us who had been posted had our gear stowed in a 15cwt truck and were driven off to Gravesend, where 72 were based. I met the CO, Sqn Ldr Masterman who was quite a reasonable chap, but not exactly a ball of fire when it came to air-fighting. The Sergeant Pilots at that time were billeted in a large house called Polperro on the main Gravesend to Rochester Road and I shared a room with two really old sweats, Flight Sergeant Jack Hilton and Flight Sergeant Jim Norton. Jack was King of the groundstaff and Jim was the armaments chap and when I got into the room, there they were both, sitting on their beds, polishing like mad. I think they were the only two I ever saw on the squadron who had shiny buttons, shiny cap-badges and boots all polished. The rest of us used to wander around in flying boots and battle-dress, where we had no shiny buttons to polish.

Things were fairly quiet for the first fortnight or so. We did a couple of Channel sweeps and escorted some Hurri-bombers to Dunkirk, but there was no flak, no excitement. But at least we got used to flying across the Channel and looking for aircraft and even if nothing happened, at least your confidence was gradually beginning to get established.

An Eventful Christmas – 2 Spitfires damaged . . .

At that time there had been some trouble with bolts on the aircraft and they had to be sent back to either Brize Norton or South Cerney for checking, so on Christmas Eve, with another Canadian chap, I flew to South Cerney to have the aircraft checked over. I landed, no bunts, quite smooth, all going when all of a sudden I saw my port leg disappear behind me and the aircraft came to a grinding halt, fortunately not damaging the prop and very little damage to the port wing. I felt a right idiot sitting there, wondering what I had done. I eventually got back to the control tower, phoned Gravesend, spoke to the flight commander. The first thing he asked me was had I damaged the prop and I said no, so he said, well you’d better come back. So I hiked the parachute out of the aircraft, was given a parachute bag and a pass, and told to get back to Gravesend, which was great on Christmas Eve!

Anyway, I got to the station and eventually got back to Gravesend quite late at night. I wasn’t at all happy about explaining everything to the Flight Commander the following day. He seemed to think I was a bit of an idiot and I couldn’t think what I had done wrong. Anyway, the next day being Christmas Day, they decided I’d do the whole trip again. So the following day I got in another aircraft that had to be checked and flew it into Brize Norton. I got the aircraft checked over and came back to Gravesend.

Now Gravesend was a funny sort of aerodrome. It’s all grass and it ran down towards the river and there was large patch in the middle which we didn’t use. It was roped off because the ground was so bad. Anyway, I landed alright, all the wheels were down, the tail-wheel was down, shut the throttle, pulled back on the stick, put the brake on and nothing happened. I worked furiously at the foot-pedals to waggle the tail to and fro in the hope of making at least some impression on the brakes and nothing happened at all and it trundled very gently to the end of the grass, over the perimeter track and then there was a bit of building going on on the other side, got to the rough bit of ground, then tipped gently onto its nose.

It didn’t do a lot of damage, but I felt a bit of an idiot, especially when the CO and half the squadron came galloping round the perimeter track to look at me and help me get out of the aircraft, which was on end. I wasn’t particularly popular with everybody at the time and I must admit I felt a bit miserable. I still couldn’t see what I had done wrong and for two or three days after that, I lay in bed wondering what the hell was the matter. At any rate I couldn’t understand why the leg had come off, because all the lights had shown the legs were securely fastened. The two little tabs that come up on either side of the cockpit by the edge of the wing, to show the wheels were locked and down and that should have been alright.

Now so far as the Gravesend effort was concerned, I knew I’d pulled the brake handle as tight as I could and I went and checked one of the aircraft and the answer came in a flash. I rushed to a phone and got hold of the engineering officer, explained what I thought had happened, and he was quite a decent chap. He came up, had a look at the aircraft and I was proved right, I was glad to say.

What had happened was, you probably know on a Spit, you have a control column with a large ring at the top on which you have the gun-button on the top left, a camera gun-button just to the right of it and a brake handle comes down the centre of the middle of the ring, so when you hold it with your right hand, you stretch your fingers across, grab the brake handle and pull. Now, what had happened was that they’d run the wire from the camera gun button, instead of round the rim of the top of the handle, they’d brought it straight down. Consequently, when you heaved on the brake handle, the base of the brake handle, instead of going right across to the far side of the ring, caught onto the wire, was held tight and whilst you were putting on full pressure and thinking you were holding the brakes full on, they were scarcely on at all. So they checked all the other aircraft and found two or three other cases. It could have happened at any time at all, to anybody, so I was absolved of all blame there and patted on the head.

So far as the wheel coming off at South Cerney was concerned, they decided to check all the undercarts of the aircraft on the squadron, and found that the locking nut, which is something like a door lock with a chamfered edge. This locking nut, or pin, or bolt or whatever, had become worn and although all the instruments stated that the legs were fully down and locked, because the locking nut was in its right position, having been worn, it didn’t hold the leg tight. Consequently, once pressure was put on it, the leg just collapsed, because there was nothing to hold it. So, again, all was well, but I must admit, I had a very miserable two or three days, especially having just joined the squadron.

regle
27th Oct 2009, 16:22
My own French was not improving, mainly because my entire crew took great pleasure in speaking English. Jean Brion, the Radio, Jonny Jonniaux, the Navigator, Henri Crama, the fatherly Engineer were the nicest people that you could meet and treated me with the utmost courtesy and good humour. I cannot stress enough how well received the British were at that time. We were really regarded as the true liberators of the country and the old fashioned concepts of the "British Gentleman" and "an Englishman's word is his bond" still existed in Belgium of 1952.

I flew nearly two years as First Officer with Serge Tabutaut and learned a lot including, for a brief spell, how to legitimately double your money. Once, in Leopoldville, the day before departure, Serge said to me " Bring 500frs. to the bank with me tomorrow."" That was quite a lot of miney then and we British First Officers were always broke.. One of the ways that we all existed was through the "carnet d'avances" that we all had. The Congolese franc was always at par with the Belgian Franc so you could get an advance on your salary with Sabena in the Congo which would be changed at par at Brussels and would take several weeks to get through and sometimes, with a bit of luck, got lost completely. When you were scheduled to go to the Congo there would always be a lot of British F/o's waiting to see you off with their slips, duly signed from the carnet for you to bring them the money to see them through the rest of the month. Anyway I duly borrowed the 500 Frs. and went with Serge to the bank where he asked for their value in "Congolese, Leopold the First ,one franc pieces". These were huge coins with a hole in the middle and weighed a ton. We staggered back to the infamous Sabena Guest House where the crews stayed; I was mystified. Serge told me that all would be revealed on the flight back to Brussels. The first stop was Kano. It was already night and for once, the runway lights were working. There had been times when the lights would go out whilst you were on the approach and it was because the Nigerian rats loved the rubber which surrounded the wiring and were eating through them and the wires. We staggered with our Leopold francs to the outside of the ancient Terminal building where, under the light of naptha lamps , several Arab traders were squatting surrounded by charm bracelets and other souvenirs. We deposited our burdens in front of them and ,without any haggling, we were promptly given 1000 B.Frs each in notes. Evidently the silver content of the coins was so great that it was worth more than the coin itself and the Arabs would beat them down and make silver trinkets of them. Unfortunately the coin was so large and unwieldy, it was withdrawn from circulation so that the ,quite legitimate, racket came to an end.

I referred to the "infamous" Sabena Guest house at Leo. as Leopoldville was always known,. It was not the most comfortable place but it was owned by Sabena so the crews stayed there. There was no such thing as a meal allowance but three meals a day were paid for by the Company. The predictable result was that everyone ate their three meals instead of saving on their allowances. This proved very bad for the health and there was gross overweight amongst many of the crews. When you ordered a steak, the Congolese waiter would yell "Steak, equipage" (Crew Steak) to the kitchen and the result would often tell why. Crews were only on very rare (no pun intended) occasions served the best steaks. This situation went on for some time but we were eventually given proper meal allowances and moved to the Hotel Memling which was infinitely better than the Guest House.


Sabena had one or two service a week to New York on D.C.4's . Although my Captain was one of the most Senior, he had been left off the New york sector after an incident when Sabena based some crews in Hawaii to take part in an "Air Lift" ferrying military personnel to and from Korea when that war was raging. There had been a big parade which had been interrupted by an aeroplane "beating up" the parade ground. Unfortunately the ceremony was being broadcast and the Commentator had given a graphic description of the beat up "The aeroplane is so low that I can see in the cockpit and I can see the letters OO..etc. etc."
Eventually , however, he served out his sentence and we were put on the coveted New York run. The flights, invariably went by Shannon and Gander, due to the limited range of the D.C.4. Passengers were rare. I have been on flights that went with one or two passengers and then returned empty. It was on such a flight that a Steward came up to the cockpit and announced "We have 150 oysters on board and our passenger does'nt like them." "Bring them up here" said our Captain. and we scoffed the lot.

The system of promotion in Sabena was very fair. Providing that you passed the very strict and probing examinations on the new aircraft and you were eligible to fly it then the seniority list was faithfully adhered to. You started your career as a First officer , flying D.C.3's on freight in Europe. and then progressed all the way up on the various aircraft used, each of which paid increasing rates, until you reached the top as First Officer flying four engined aircraft on the Atalantic. When your turn came then you started the whole procedure again as a freight Capt on D.C.3's in Europe. The aircraft , in question, at that time were D.C.3,s,
Convairs,later Caravelles and D.C.4's and D.C.6's on Europe and the Middle East . The Long courier was on D.C.4's,D.C.6's and later, D.C.7cs, Boeing 707's. D.C.10's and Boeing 747's .

The most unpopular was the beginning, flying freight on draughty "Dakota's" in the early hours of the morning all over Europe. One of the chores was flying hundreds of pigeons all over Europe in the middle of the night. The pigeons would be released from small aerodromes, some of them only just bigger than a field, by the two "conveyeurs" that you carried with the pigeons. Large sums of money would change hands on the results of the ensuing race home. Apart from the unsocial hours of these flights the smell of pigeons was very hard to get rid of and hung over you for days afterwards. To make matters worse, Sabena secured a contract to fly hundreds of pedigree pigs from Blackbushe , in England, to Belgrade, in Jugo-Slavia. It was on one of those flights,on June 4th.1954 when I was a Freight Captain following another Sabena Freighter to Belgrade that I heard the Captain, my colleague and friend, Dougie Wilson, calling "Mayday" over Graz, in Austria. I was about fifteen minutes behind him and he had possibly strayed out of the corridor, laid down by
Russia and had been attacked by a Russian MIG, killing the Radio officer, wounding the other Freight Captain and Doug had made a very creditable landing at Graz without flaps or brakes as the hydraulics had been put out of action. I continued on to Zagreb where everyone was very upset about the incident and treated us very well indeed. The resultant return of the unfortunate Radio Officer in a sealed coffin and an unpressurised aircraft is another story that could have had nasty results with the Alps standing in the way but, fortunately the crew realised this in time and flew all up the valley of the Rhone instead. I hope that I still have some of you with me, I seem to have been here all afternoon. Reg.

andyl999
27th Oct 2009, 16:49
I came across this very rare and valuable Andy Warhol painting of Reg thought you might like to see it:-

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v616/andyl999/reg/IMG_0114Large-1.jpg