Pilot Officer Sam Brooks, London, Special operator, 101 Sqn, concludes his account of special operations from Ludford Magna in Lincolnshire
AS THE years have gone by life has of course developed in many other directions but I have always been reminded of Keith when a place, or a song, or some other thing has sparked a memory of our close but brief comradeship. He is the one I think of and shed a tear for on Armistice Day. Secretly, over the intervening years, I felt a need to find out where Keith was buried and to visit the grave to say a sombre and measured farewell.
The opportunity to follow that wish came on the 50th anniversary of the war's end approached. I made enquiries at the Ministry of Defence as to war graves and received a very speedy and helpful response. Keith was buried in a cemetery near Cambrai on the road that goes in the direction of Solesmes in grave B, row 31 -- all very precisely military. My wife and I crossed the channel to Calais early on the morning of 21 July 1994, the fiftieth anniversary of Keith's death.
We drove to Cambrai past some of the massive military cemeteries from World War One. Through the town we found the road to Solesmes and looked for our cemetery. The only one in sight was a German World War One cemetery, well tended and stark with granite crosses. We passed it by looking for the more familiar British headstones. On to Solesmes, still no other cemetery of any nation and we re-traced our steps towards Cambrai, thinking we had missed it.
The German cemetery was on the outskirts of Cambrai itself and in desperation we stopped there hoping to obtain directions. Inside a gardener was cutting hedges and I went to speak to him not knowing whether to try German or my more halting French. After my first words he replied to me in English. He was a Londoner, an employee of the British War Graves authorities. Apparently the gardeners did not always work in the cemeteries of their own nations.
Yes, he did know where World War Two RAF graves might be found. They were in a plot set aside in the civilian cemetery next door, only 100 yards from where we were speaking. We were quickly there, and sure enough we found a group of some 40 RAF graves. The dates on the headstones told their own sad stories. There were sets of headstones, side by side with the same date, clearly each set from the same bomber crew.
The group for 21 July 1944 had four headstones, one of them Keith's. I did not know the other names in that crew. There were two gaps in the line. I learned later that these probably represented the spots where bodies had been repatriated by relatives, probably to Canada. So that was it, two had survived, four were here, and two had moved on. The whole crew of eight were accounted for.
In my mind's eye, over the 50 years, I had imagined Keith as having been found, and his body, still in uniform, laid peacefully to rest. I looked at the headstone, and carefully carved at the top was the RAF crest, and at the foot the words 'Proud and treasured memories'. That must have been Florence's wording. I read the other words, 'Pilot Officer K. Gosling. Pilot. Royal Air Force. 21st July 1944. Age 19'.
Did I say that one should never go back to renew old acquaintances? Well, as you know Keith was a wireless operator like me. Why should it say pilot on the headstone? How much had they found to bury? I was strangely upset.
Pilot Officer Keith Gosling (19) alongside his flight engineer F/Sgt Ian Reid (21) rests forever among their Bomber Command comrades in the Cambrai cemetery. They were two of 1,176 airmen who gave their lives while serving with 101 (Special Duties) Squadron, Royal Air Force.