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

[Icare9]

Mosquito Reunion Salisbury Hall 4th October

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]

Mossies in the net

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]

Photo of Lancaster

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]

A different perspective

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]

Gordon Davis:

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

http://www.pprune.org/spectators-bal...une-guide.html

[regle]

Posting pictures

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]

Photobucket

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

[regle]

Johnfairr

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]

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]

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]

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]

Johnffair

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]

A Spitfire Pilot. Part 1

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]

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]

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]

A very welcome new contributor

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]

Why pick on me ?

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]

ATA Book - Spitfire Girls? Is this it -

base.com: FICTION SAGA/ HISTORICAL - Spitfire Girls

[kevmusic]

JF - wonderful stuff! Any photographs with your Dad's memoirs?

[regle]

Forget

Yes that's it . Have ordered, many thanks, Regle