Smudge (your #6165, I quote),
Your:
"......meanwhile, back at the ranch, as an ex "tecky" if you can offer your experience Danny, what sort of relationship was there between aircrew and groundcrew during WW2? And of course subsequently. I, as a late 60s recruit saw one version, your thoughts would be interesting on that relationship, if there was one. My departed father in law experienced life
as Groundcrew on 617 and 75(NZ) Squadrons during WW2, and, toward the end of his time, often alluded to the comradeship of wartime service as his "best of times". I will never forget him telling me of being ordered, with several fellow "Erks" in to the bomb bay of a 75 Sqn Stirling for an air test following an engine change. Having closed the bomb doors, locks were fitted to prevent accidental opening of the doors in flight. I'm sure you have memories of some of your own Erks in "the East".
I'll try and answer point by point. It was excellent ! We all knew that our lives depended on their doing their jobs well; they slogged their guts out for us - often working through the night (without complaint - apart from the constant grumble which is an inseparable part of Service life - to get their "kite" on the line next morning. Then they would reluctantly "lend" "their" aircraft to the pilot for an "op" (and I'll always remember the broad grins when you brought it back into dispersal and signalled "thumbs up" to the questioning faces.
Of course, discipline still ruled, an officer was still an officer and an erk still an erk, but that said (and in particular in Burma) they worked doggedly in heat, humidity and pouring rain, with little shelter (no nice, warm, dry hangars now !) to (say) change an engine overnight. You dropped a spanner, it fell in two inches of glutinous mud. You dropped a nut - goodbye !
What made it easier was the fact that we all slept on the same charpoys, ate the same food in the various Messes, showered under the same perforated four-gallon tins and all ranks shared the same hardships (which the squaddies of the 14th Army would regard as absolute luxuries !). I cannot recall any Parades (except for Pay) in the whole of my time out there.
Things might have been different back home. You say your Dad was on 617, was it in Gibson's time ? I've read that he tended to treat his lower ranks "de haut en bas", as it were, which never goes down very well (but then a very brave man is not necessarily a "nice" one). But that is hearsay. And I would go along 100% with his remarks about the comradeship as his "best of times". Of course, that was one man's war: for others it was much different. (..."It was the Best of Times....It was the Worst of Times"...).
Bit puzzled about "locked" Bomb Doors. Were there other locks apart from the usual ones in the cockpit ? If so, could the pilot release them from there ? (no sense in flying hundreds of miles to your target and then being unable to open bomb doors). But I never had anything to do with the Stirling, it looked an ungainly thing and might well have funny things in it. (There are people reading this who know the answer).
Bit long-winded, but never mind ! Cheers, Danny.