Memoirs of a WW2 Hawker Typhoon pilot - Part 1
A week or so back, I offered to post the memoirs of F/Lt Peter Brett who flew Hawker Typhoons during WW2. Peter typed these up about 10 years ago, when he still had reasonably good eyesight. They got stored on floppy disks and forgotten about until recently when they were found again and I volunteered to help get them more widely read. Peter, now 86 years old, can now only use a computer with difficult owing to his deteriorating eyesight, but I am more than happy to relay any questions to him.
Cliffnemo has very kindly invited me to join his thread, so here is the first instalment of Peter's work. There are some photo's too, which I will include as soon as I find out how!
TOW
First steps
What follows happened over sixty years ago but some of the memories are as vivid today as they ever were. Other memories were triggered by the act of writing about those days and these triggered even further recollections. All in all, it has been a nostalgic journey into the past for me and I can only hope that the reader will enjoy the voyage.
I have always been interested in flight and aircraft. As a small boy, I made innumerable flying models, mostly gliders, from balsa wood and experimented with unusual configurations. My most successful, as far as I can remember, were 'Flying Wings' with only a 'pod' instead of a full fuselage, with highly swept back wings and vertical 'tailplanes' at the wingtips.
I can also remember attending practically every annual London Air Display from 1933 until the outbreak of war. These were held at Hendon airfield which is now the site of the RAF Museum. There was of course no 'Red Arrows' aerobatic team then, but I recall formation aerobatics by three Hawker 'Fury' biplane fighters, and seeing the original DeHavilland 'Comet' - not the airliner but the twin engined, two seater, low wing monoplane which held the England/Australia record.
As soon as I was old enough, I joined what was the forerunner of the Air Training Corps (ATC). This was the Air Defence Cadet Corps (ADCC) sponsored by the 'Air League of the British Empire' a privately supported organisation.. This was in 1935 when I was twelve years old. I lived in Rayners Lane in Harrow, Middlesex and the nearest squadron to my home at this time was some 8 km away - Number 14(F), for ‘founder’, at the RAF station at Uxbridge.
The parades were on Sunday afternoons and a friend and I used to cycle there every Sunday after lunch to attend. The parades consisted of basic drilling, physical training and lectures on RAF-related subjects including the theory of flight and even things like stripping and reassembling Lewis and Vickers guns that dated back to the 1914/18 war. We also, very occasionally, had the opportunity to be taken up for flights from Northolt airfield.
I remember that my first ever flight was in a 'Percival Proctor' aircraft. It was flown by no less a rank than a Group Captain. I cannot now recall his name but I do remember that he was a surprisingly small man. I was very tall for my age and found it rather odd that, when I had to spring smartly to attention and salute, I found that I was looking well over his head!
The authorities also found us useful for a variety of duties connected with aircraft and the RAF, and I can recall acting as a sort of decorative 'guard' for a 'Miles Master II' aircraft at an Air show held at the Fairey Aircraft Company's airfield at Hayes. As a souvenir of the occasion we each received a copy of the programme signed by the Air Minister of the time Sir Kingsley Wood. Thus I can date this show to be sometime in 1937.
It was just about this time that the Air Training Corps was formed and the ADCC was incorporated into the new organisation. A squadron, number 101, was formed at Wealdstone near Harrow, and my friend and I transferred to this unit. Then followed probably the fastest promotions on record. Since, by then, both my friend and I were well versed in drill, Morse code signalling, and various other useful attributes, we were both promoted - the first week to Corporal, the second week to Sergeant, and the third week to Flight Sergeant. I must have done fairly well during the next two years, as I was selected to go on one of the first glider pilots courses to be organised for the ATC. Unfortunately this was now 1939 and the outbreak of war put paid to my chances of learning to fly a glider at that time.
At 16 years old I was of course too young to join up, and I was studying at Acton Technical College (later to become part of Brunel University) with the intention of eventually becoming an Associate Member of the Institute Aeronautical Engineers (AMIAeE). Unfortunately, the college was evacuated from London and my father, who was either unable or unwilling to meet the extra costs, withdrew me from the college and I became a trainee draftsman with the Marconi - Osram Valve Company (M-OV), at Hammersmith in North London.
However, as soon as I was old enough (17¼ ) I volunteered for service with the RAF and, after attending a medical examination, which was spread over three days, I was accepted for aircrew training and told that I would be called up when I was 17¾. My father was rather annoyed since, as a draftsman, I was in a 'reserved occupation' and was therefore not liable to be drafted. I cannot honestly say that I was motivated by any sense of patriotism. The object was to get my hands on an aeroplane and learn to fly it!
During the year or so that I was with Osram, I continued to attend ATC parades at weekends and also joined the Local Defence Volunteers, later to become the Home Guard. Thus I was in London during the "Battle of Britain" and the "Blitz". I can recall seeing the vapour trails of the aircraft during the "Battle of Britain" and also seeing London burning from the Osram factory roof during the "Blitz".
The one time that the Osram factory was hit by a bomb I was not on duty, but came in the next day to find that the building in which the drawing office was housed had only three walls remaining. The floor was sagging at an angle of perhaps twenty to thirty degrees. I managed to persuade some workmen to let me down on a rope to rescue my precious drawing instruments from my bench, which was teetering over a three floor drop! For the remainder of my stay with the company, I had a drawing board and desk stuck in between a sintering furnace and a multi-headed glass blowing machine. This was fine in cold weather, since factory heating was not considered an essential war service, but not conducive to neat drawings in hot weather when the temperature at my desk soared to over 100 degrees Fahrenheit.
Eventually, in September 1941, I received my call-up papers and was told to report to Lords Cricket Ground in London on the 20th of October !
More soon...