Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II

[Wiley]

WOP/AG Peter Jensen. Instalment 4

Shortly after Christmas, I had a week’s leave and spent a couple of days in Paisley (near Glasgow) with relatives of people who lived near us in Gladesville. The only event of interest during this time was visiting a cattle auction. To get to Paisley, I caught the ‘Flying Scotsman’ to Edinburgh. This was a trip I anticipated with pleasure and excitement, but was greatly disappointed, as it was a slow trip, with many unscheduled stops, due no doubt to wartime problems. I stayed overnight at an hotel in Edinburgh and at dinner, I noticed an RAF Squadron Leader - (obviously a WW1 man, with a missing nose) – sitting near me, and when I had finished my meal, he sent the waitress to ask me to join him for a port. I declined the port, but had a coffee with him. He was a very interesting man whose passion was - (of all things) – birds. His ambition was to go to the Macdonnell Ranges (in Australia) and study the birdlife there. I think I made some stupid statement like: “I didn’t think there were any birds there.” He was probably most unimpressed.

I finished the course at Cranwell at the end of January 1942 and we were sent on leave. This time I made arrangements through the Lady Ryder organisation and went to a small village called Rieveaux whose only claim to fame was the ruins of an abbey that was pillaged by the lackeys of King Henry VIII. I was the guest of the squire, an elderly gentleman who was a colonel (Boer War, I presume). It was a fascinating place. He had a family mausoleum on the top of a hill that had the top levelled off. I actually saw one of the yokels touch his forelock as he passed the old boy. There was also a Lord of the Manor, (can’t remember the name), but he wasn’t there and the manor house had been taken over by a tank regiment, and all the once beautiful gardens had been turned into quagmires.

My next posting was to Prestwick near Ayr in Scotland. It was very hush-hush and the equipment we trained on was referred to as S.I. (special installation) or S.E. (secret equipment). It was of course later named radar. Apart from classroom teaching, we also flew in Blackburn Bothas – a nice looking twin engine aircraft, but grossly underpowered. If one engine cut out, it headed to the earth like a streamlined house brick. Luckily, our course had no prangs. Our exercises were to fly over the Irish Sea and home the pilot on to Ailsa Crag, a large rock sticking out of the middle of the sea. With our equipment, you had to be careful, because you could line up the aircraft on the target easily enough, but there was no way of knowing if it was in front or behind you! My mate Pat Morrison, a New Zealander, ‘homed’ his aircraft away from Ailsa Crag. Very embarrassing!

This period was when no one knew the dangers of microwaves and radioactivity and we worked with unshielded equipment. Fortunately, the only problem I had was that my watch was ruined. It used to do all sorts of things, including (I am sure) going backwards. I had to buy a new watch eventually.

This course lasted until the end of March 1942, and after more leave, I was posted to Hooten Park early in May. At this point, it was obvious that I was headed for Coastal Command, as they began teaching us various procedures (W/T and otherwise) related to maritime flying. We flew in Airspeed Oxfords and practised wireless and gunnery.

I left Hooten Park on 7th June 1942 for more leave, mostly in Bournemouth, where I became acquainted with friends of Pat Morrison, the Brown family, who from then until I left England became my home away from home. The family consisted of Mrs May Brown, her sister Elsie, May’s daughter Dorothy and Dorothy’s husband Jim Keep. Dorothy was in the WAAFs, so unless our leaves coincided, I didn’t see much of her. Jim was in the Army and a few weeks after I met him, he was posted to North Africa and I never saw him again until 1978 when we went on a trip to England. I was never told what happened to Mr Brown and never asked. They were a kind and generous family and were a wonderful sanctuary for me to relive normal family life. They introduced me to the Durell family, Mrs Durell, three boys – Lawrence, Leslie and Gerald – and one girl, Margaret. Mr Durell had been a civil engineer and they had spent most of their time in the Far East. Mr Durell died in Burma and the rest of the family lived on Corfu until 1938, when they moved to Bournemouth, bringing their Greek maid Maria with them. They were incredible people and I used to enjoy spending a lot of time with them. After the war, Lawrence became world famous as a poet and author – almost became Poet Laureate, (pipped at the post by John Betjeman), and Gerald became even more famous as a Naturalist and author. He was the first to start breeding programmes for endangered species.

My next posting was to No. 4 (C)OTU at Invergordon, where training became really serious. We were formed up into crews – pilot, navigator, wireless ops and gunners – and went on simulated operations. I can’t remember much of this period, so it couldn’t have been very dramatic. I left Invergordon in mid-July and after another leave, arrived (at last!) on a real operational squadron!!

461 Squadron had just been formed. It was an EATS squadron, unlike 10 Squadron, which was (and still is) a permanent RAAF squadron. Both squadrons at the time were based at Mountbatten, across the bay from Plymouth. Some personnel from 10 Sqn were transferred to 461 to get it going, then it was built up with EATS trainees and some RAF bods, mainly WOMs (Wireless Operator Mechanics). There were none of these in the RAAF, but RAF rules demanded one on each Sunderland. The commanding officer was RAF – Wing Commander Halliday – also the Flight Commander – Squadron Leader Lovelock.

When I arrived in Plymouth I was staggered – I had seen a lot of bomb damage in London and other places, but nothing like this. The whole centre of the city was just a mass of rubble, yet life was carrying on as normal on the outskirts. It was beyond description, yet everyone was going about their business as if all was normal!! What a spirit!

When I arrived at Mountbatten, I was allocated a room in an old building about 50 yards from the Mess called the Annex. I went there and went on a voyage of discovery in and around the building, finally finding the bathroom and decided to have a bath as no one else was around. I got my towel and dressing gown, locked the door and turned on the hot water. It was hot alright, but a muddy brown colour. It must have been rust in the pipes. Anyway, I had a very pleasant bath, put on my best uniform and, as it was nearing 6 PM, set off for the Mess and dinner.

The Mess was a large, imposing building facing Plymouth harbour and was side-on to the Annex. As I approached it, I saw it had a side door on my side, so I thought it would save me a long walk around the front, so I entered by it and was almost knocked down by a figure doing handsprings down the corridor. He had reached the door just as I entered. He had his cap pulled down over his ears and as he stood up, I could see his shining eyes and a large toothy grin splitting his face. There were twelve men lining the corridor cheering and yelling and laughing. He ignored me and made his way back up the corridor.

I turned to the man nearest me and said: “Who was that?”

He looked at me. “461?” he asked.

“Yes.” I said.

“Oh,” he said, "He’s your Flight Commander,” and he turned away in a superior sort of manner.

I was to find out later that 10 Squadron had this superior feeling over 461. Anyway, we showed them – we sank more U-Boats!

I was put on a crew which had already been established and had already flown operationally. The skipper was Bertie Smith, First Pilot Dudley Marrows, navigator Fred Gasgoine, WOM – Smedley (RAF). I have forgotten his Christian name. The WOPs were Les Wilson and John Gamble. The names of the fitter, rigger and engineer I have forgotten.

My job was the tail gunner. I felt pretty useless beside this experienced crew, but they made allowances and soon I became part of them and was allowed an odd turn on the wireless.