Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II
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regle
Yes I had read those pages ages ago and only recently discovered that my uncle was there in 1941 but had forgotten that you had mentioned your time there. He was not killed in Jan 42 when his Wellington ditched in the North sea but was a POW.Two of the crew of six were killed in the ditching.
It was my father who was killed in 1943 when his Stirling was shot down over Belgium by a nightfighter.It has been brought to my attention by airborne_artist that there is a memorial to four different sets of bomber crews including my father that were shot down in that area at Houthalen cemetry opened in 2006 which is a nice gesture by the local people.
Regle I have just had a look at P22 425. Was that all that was on your course as the more formal one of my Uncle in A Flight had about 40 people in it?.
Yes I had read those pages ages ago and only recently discovered that my uncle was there in 1941 but had forgotten that you had mentioned your time there. He was not killed in Jan 42 when his Wellington ditched in the North sea but was a POW.Two of the crew of six were killed in the ditching.
It was my father who was killed in 1943 when his Stirling was shot down over Belgium by a nightfighter.It has been brought to my attention by airborne_artist that there is a memorial to four different sets of bomber crews including my father that were shot down in that area at Houthalen cemetry opened in 2006 which is a nice gesture by the local people.
Regle I have just had a look at P22 425. Was that all that was on your course as the more formal one of my Uncle in A Flight had about 40 people in it?.
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A Spitfire Pilot. Part 6.
Kidlington, Multi-Engine Training May 1941 – July 1941
We were sent off on a weeks leave and told we’d be posted to Kidlington in Oxfordshire. So we dutifully packed our bags, got on the train and trundled back to London. It was on that train that I had my first taste of spinach, I’d never eaten it before. In those days you could still get a meal on the train and to pass the time four of us decided we’d have lunch and they produced this spinach, but never having had it, I tried it, thought it was smashing and I’ve liked it ever since.
Leave was much like any other in the early days. You’d spend some time rushing around seeing relations you hadn’t seen for some time, taking out the odd girlfriend (including your mother!) and waiting for the day when you could bomb off and do a little more flying. I went from Paddington to Oxford, changed for Kidlington, got out, met one or two chaps I’d known on the course. There was no transport to take us to the aerodrome, which wasn’t all that far, so we wandered up to the gates, having previously met one of two of the chaps who’d been on the senior course at Brough. We naturally assumed, going on fighters, we’d be flying Masters next and were shaken to the core when the ex-senior flight told us we’d be flying Oxfords! The idea being that we were all going on night-fighters. Our hearts sank into our boots, or rather our shoes, as we were all wearing the shoes we’d bought in Hull. Thereby hangs another tale.
We reported to the guardroom and met the Station Warrant Officer, who was definitely a member of the Old School, and would have done well in the Brigade of Guards. He immediately spotted that we were all wearing shoes and in dulcet tones that could have stripped paint, he advised us to,
“Change them so-and-so shoes into so-and-so boots, and don’t let me catch you with shoes agin!”
What with that and having to fly Oxfords, we were delighted! Anyway, we got to our billets, unpacked and in the afternoon we were told to report to one of the hangars for lectures. As we marched along one of the roads to the hangar, we had to pass the remnants of a burnt-out Oxford, which gave us food for thought. Anyway, we got to this hangar-type lecture room and up came the CFI. Now at this time all that we knew about Oxfords was the fact that they had two engines and we had no knowledge whatsoever of their capabilities. Anyway, the CFI’s first words were,
“You don’t want to believe what you’ve heard about Oxfords, they’re really very nice aircraft, if they’re treated properly!”
Now to say that to a bunch of people who have never sat in an Oxford and knew nothing about them, didn’t exactly inspire confidence. There were several thoughtful faces as we filed out. Anyway, knowing the RAF, things change every two minutes, and at least we were flying an aircraft, so most of us were happy.
I had quite a decent instructor who happened to live in Seven Kings. My first experience in an Oxford was 15 minutes as a passenger and the 2nd Pilot or pupil was Johnny Lee, a chap I met later in Gibraltar when he became a pilot in 111 Sqn. Apart from a few days, when it rained like the clappers and turned everything into a quagmire, the weather, whilst we were at Kidlington, was very, very good indeed. To get through the mud, we were all issued with Wellington boots, which Big Gag (father of RJHR) appropriated when I took them home when I had one quick weekend leave. The weather was so good we never wore helmets or flying clothes, most of the time we were in shirtsleeves, with no jackets or anything. Sitting in an Oxford, under all the perspex, most of us finished up as brown as little berries.
There was still a lot more bull than we’d had at Brough, but that’s something that you cope with without too much trouble. We worked pretty hard, we normally started at about half past seven and there were lectures. I can’t remember doing any drill, I suppose we might have done, but nothing comes to mind; it was mainly ground subjects and as much flying as possible, in fact we flew nearly every day and in our spare time tried to find a pub with beer. In those days beer was on short supply, you could often walk to a pub and find a sign outside saying
“No beer this week.”
It was heart-rending, I can tell you.
I had three particular chums at Kidlington. There was Jack Ranger, who was an ex-member of Highgate Diving Club; Derek Olver, who was the proud possessor of a motorbike and sidecar, and his wife lived close by in one of the villages, and Brian Talbot, who happened to be the cousin of our flight commander, a certain Flight Lieutenant Gaynor. Now Gaynor had been a member of one of the Auxiliary Squadrons, I can’t remember which one, but his RAF tunic had red silk lining, so maybe you’ll know which one it was. He was an excitable character and one of his favourite words was,
“Aaamaaaazing!”.
He’d rattle on about something or other and Jack Ranger and I would stand there, look at each other and say
“It’s aaaaamaaazing!”
I think he was too dim to catch on, but other people were amused. When we’d finished flying for the day, or on an odd day off, of which there weren’t many, Derek would get his motorbike, with his wife Kay, and little Brian Talbot in the sidecar, and then Derek would drive by sitting on the tank, I would sit on the saddle and Jack would sit on the pillion seat of the bike and all five of us would trundle down to the villages, looking for pubs that were open or rivers we could swim in and generally have a pretty good time. We used to go down to the Parsons’ Pleasure in Oxford. It was a part of the river near one of the colleges and there was a nice little backwater you were allowed to swim in, so Jack and I would change, swim from the backwater into the main part of the river where, by this time, Derek and Kay, and Brian and his newly arrived wife, Kitty, would be sitting on the bank with sandwiches. We’d just swim up and down the river, occasionally getting out, lolling on the bank and quietly enjoying ourselves.
Jack would often climb out, go up to one of the bridges over the river, climb over the side and dive in. As I said before, he was a member of Highgate Diving Club and he was absolutely terrific and life really wasn’t much better.
We used to go down to The Trout at Godstow and have a few beers there. There was a little hut you could change in, in the garden, and we’d come down, get into the river, and just swim up and down. Beautiful! The river was quite fast at The Trout, actually. You could come under a bridge, shoot off down the other side and the idea was that you would buy a pint of beer, swim out with it to the middle of the river and drink the pint of beer whilst paddling water. It was stupid, but it was fun!
Other times we’d go to The Bear at Woodstock, where I learned to play Cardinal Puff after several attempts and from there you’d go through the village, down past Blenheim Palace, through a field, where there was another nice little river, where all sorts of trout used to congregate on one side of the bridge and the other side of the bridge we used to use for swimming and general poodling about. It wasn’t a bad life.
I soloed after five hours dual on the Oxford and eventually we came to quite like it. It was hardly an aerobatic aircraft, but with a great deal of oomph, you could get it to do a slow roll. That was a bit shattering, because when you looked out the window, you found that the wings, from the engines outwards, flapped a bit. So some of us did one slow roll and that was it. We never tried it again and it was all illegal anyway. We started to have ground tests which weren’t too bad. One in particular was a bit of a farce. We had a navigation test and one of the questions that came up, which carried quite a few marks, hadn’t been covered in our syllabus. So the instructor, who used to be on Hudsons in Coastal Command, strolled up and down the aisles, talking to himself, and explaining to himself, how the question would be answered if he were taking the test. All this with a very straight face and needless to say we all passed the navigation test.
We were sent off on a weeks leave and told we’d be posted to Kidlington in Oxfordshire. So we dutifully packed our bags, got on the train and trundled back to London. It was on that train that I had my first taste of spinach, I’d never eaten it before. In those days you could still get a meal on the train and to pass the time four of us decided we’d have lunch and they produced this spinach, but never having had it, I tried it, thought it was smashing and I’ve liked it ever since.
Leave was much like any other in the early days. You’d spend some time rushing around seeing relations you hadn’t seen for some time, taking out the odd girlfriend (including your mother!) and waiting for the day when you could bomb off and do a little more flying. I went from Paddington to Oxford, changed for Kidlington, got out, met one or two chaps I’d known on the course. There was no transport to take us to the aerodrome, which wasn’t all that far, so we wandered up to the gates, having previously met one of two of the chaps who’d been on the senior course at Brough. We naturally assumed, going on fighters, we’d be flying Masters next and were shaken to the core when the ex-senior flight told us we’d be flying Oxfords! The idea being that we were all going on night-fighters. Our hearts sank into our boots, or rather our shoes, as we were all wearing the shoes we’d bought in Hull. Thereby hangs another tale.
We reported to the guardroom and met the Station Warrant Officer, who was definitely a member of the Old School, and would have done well in the Brigade of Guards. He immediately spotted that we were all wearing shoes and in dulcet tones that could have stripped paint, he advised us to,
“Change them so-and-so shoes into so-and-so boots, and don’t let me catch you with shoes agin!”
What with that and having to fly Oxfords, we were delighted! Anyway, we got to our billets, unpacked and in the afternoon we were told to report to one of the hangars for lectures. As we marched along one of the roads to the hangar, we had to pass the remnants of a burnt-out Oxford, which gave us food for thought. Anyway, we got to this hangar-type lecture room and up came the CFI. Now at this time all that we knew about Oxfords was the fact that they had two engines and we had no knowledge whatsoever of their capabilities. Anyway, the CFI’s first words were,
“You don’t want to believe what you’ve heard about Oxfords, they’re really very nice aircraft, if they’re treated properly!”
Now to say that to a bunch of people who have never sat in an Oxford and knew nothing about them, didn’t exactly inspire confidence. There were several thoughtful faces as we filed out. Anyway, knowing the RAF, things change every two minutes, and at least we were flying an aircraft, so most of us were happy.
I had quite a decent instructor who happened to live in Seven Kings. My first experience in an Oxford was 15 minutes as a passenger and the 2nd Pilot or pupil was Johnny Lee, a chap I met later in Gibraltar when he became a pilot in 111 Sqn. Apart from a few days, when it rained like the clappers and turned everything into a quagmire, the weather, whilst we were at Kidlington, was very, very good indeed. To get through the mud, we were all issued with Wellington boots, which Big Gag (father of RJHR) appropriated when I took them home when I had one quick weekend leave. The weather was so good we never wore helmets or flying clothes, most of the time we were in shirtsleeves, with no jackets or anything. Sitting in an Oxford, under all the perspex, most of us finished up as brown as little berries.
There was still a lot more bull than we’d had at Brough, but that’s something that you cope with without too much trouble. We worked pretty hard, we normally started at about half past seven and there were lectures. I can’t remember doing any drill, I suppose we might have done, but nothing comes to mind; it was mainly ground subjects and as much flying as possible, in fact we flew nearly every day and in our spare time tried to find a pub with beer. In those days beer was on short supply, you could often walk to a pub and find a sign outside saying
“No beer this week.”
It was heart-rending, I can tell you.
I had three particular chums at Kidlington. There was Jack Ranger, who was an ex-member of Highgate Diving Club; Derek Olver, who was the proud possessor of a motorbike and sidecar, and his wife lived close by in one of the villages, and Brian Talbot, who happened to be the cousin of our flight commander, a certain Flight Lieutenant Gaynor. Now Gaynor had been a member of one of the Auxiliary Squadrons, I can’t remember which one, but his RAF tunic had red silk lining, so maybe you’ll know which one it was. He was an excitable character and one of his favourite words was,
“Aaamaaaazing!”.
He’d rattle on about something or other and Jack Ranger and I would stand there, look at each other and say
“It’s aaaaamaaazing!”
I think he was too dim to catch on, but other people were amused. When we’d finished flying for the day, or on an odd day off, of which there weren’t many, Derek would get his motorbike, with his wife Kay, and little Brian Talbot in the sidecar, and then Derek would drive by sitting on the tank, I would sit on the saddle and Jack would sit on the pillion seat of the bike and all five of us would trundle down to the villages, looking for pubs that were open or rivers we could swim in and generally have a pretty good time. We used to go down to the Parsons’ Pleasure in Oxford. It was a part of the river near one of the colleges and there was a nice little backwater you were allowed to swim in, so Jack and I would change, swim from the backwater into the main part of the river where, by this time, Derek and Kay, and Brian and his newly arrived wife, Kitty, would be sitting on the bank with sandwiches. We’d just swim up and down the river, occasionally getting out, lolling on the bank and quietly enjoying ourselves.
Jack would often climb out, go up to one of the bridges over the river, climb over the side and dive in. As I said before, he was a member of Highgate Diving Club and he was absolutely terrific and life really wasn’t much better.
We used to go down to The Trout at Godstow and have a few beers there. There was a little hut you could change in, in the garden, and we’d come down, get into the river, and just swim up and down. Beautiful! The river was quite fast at The Trout, actually. You could come under a bridge, shoot off down the other side and the idea was that you would buy a pint of beer, swim out with it to the middle of the river and drink the pint of beer whilst paddling water. It was stupid, but it was fun!
Other times we’d go to The Bear at Woodstock, where I learned to play Cardinal Puff after several attempts and from there you’d go through the village, down past Blenheim Palace, through a field, where there was another nice little river, where all sorts of trout used to congregate on one side of the bridge and the other side of the bridge we used to use for swimming and general poodling about. It wasn’t a bad life.
I soloed after five hours dual on the Oxford and eventually we came to quite like it. It was hardly an aerobatic aircraft, but with a great deal of oomph, you could get it to do a slow roll. That was a bit shattering, because when you looked out the window, you found that the wings, from the engines outwards, flapped a bit. So some of us did one slow roll and that was it. We never tried it again and it was all illegal anyway. We started to have ground tests which weren’t too bad. One in particular was a bit of a farce. We had a navigation test and one of the questions that came up, which carried quite a few marks, hadn’t been covered in our syllabus. So the instructor, who used to be on Hudsons in Coastal Command, strolled up and down the aisles, talking to himself, and explaining to himself, how the question would be answered if he were taking the test. All this with a very straight face and needless to say we all passed the navigation test.
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Gypsy
There might have been one or two bods missing but that was the complete flight with the Corporal and F/Sgt Choular, of Egyptian descent, a disciplarian with a heart of gold who , by coincidence was also Cliff's F/Sgt. at his ITW a bit later. We were possibly about thirty but I know that everyone on that Photo went to Albany Ga. There were, of course, other schools in the South East Training Center ( American spelling ) that had British Cadets joining them and were also given the 42A classification (First Class to graduate in 1942..) American College system and a very good one as you could tell straight away the year that a person took the course and when he finished and tell whether he was earlier or later than you.. It is still widely in use. The course at Primary had about fifty of
whom around 50% got their wings in the States..A lot of those people were washed out for purely "disciplinary reasons" and were posted up to Canada where they were often trained up to Wings standard and many of them were dead before we got back to England. Quite a few of these unfortunates were re-mustered Sergeants and Corporals who had been stationed at places like Biggin Hill and had felt the full fury of the Luftwaffe during the Battle of Britain. To be told by some young American College Boy to "be an aeroplane, Mister, and fly out of my sight " and then be expected to put his arms out, make a whirring sound and run off , was too much and the result of telling the "Upper Classman " what to do with his aeroplane , beside being physically impossible , would result in the immediate shipping back to Canada of the probably, relieved unfortunate. All the best Reg
whom around 50% got their wings in the States..A lot of those people were washed out for purely "disciplinary reasons" and were posted up to Canada where they were often trained up to Wings standard and many of them were dead before we got back to England. Quite a few of these unfortunates were re-mustered Sergeants and Corporals who had been stationed at places like Biggin Hill and had felt the full fury of the Luftwaffe during the Battle of Britain. To be told by some young American College Boy to "be an aeroplane, Mister, and fly out of my sight " and then be expected to put his arms out, make a whirring sound and run off , was too much and the result of telling the "Upper Classman " what to do with his aeroplane , beside being physically impossible , would result in the immediate shipping back to Canada of the probably, relieved unfortunate. All the best Reg
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Totally different outlook and attitude in training
I couldn't help putting my oar in after reading Johnfairr's excellent story.
The relaxed after flying activities and the shirt sleeves even when up in the air contrast completely with the ,still prevalent, US system of making you think that and tell you, by literally screaming, are just pieces of dirt and whilst you are beginners at anything and know nothing, are completely hopeless and will never succeed. I did a lot of teaching experienced pilots how to be good Instructors at Bomber Command Instructors School, at Finningley and then at The Empire Flying school at Hullavington and the use of a little praise and encouragement, now and then was what we used to din in to the sometimes very high ranking students. We never called them "pupils" and we were "Tutors "! There are still so called Teachers in all walks of life who believe that the louder you shout the better the result. I am afraid that this is still very prevalent in American Forces training. Just look back at your own schooldays and ask yourself "Do I hate Maths because I never got the hang of it, or was it because I hated that Teacher's guts ?". I hated Maths for that reason . He was a bully and I loved English and Languages because the Masters were decent and understanding and persevered . Cliff, I would love to hear some of the German views on their training. Heidelberg, duelling and sword scars ? Or is that just fiction ? Very interesting. Reg.
The relaxed after flying activities and the shirt sleeves even when up in the air contrast completely with the ,still prevalent, US system of making you think that and tell you, by literally screaming, are just pieces of dirt and whilst you are beginners at anything and know nothing, are completely hopeless and will never succeed. I did a lot of teaching experienced pilots how to be good Instructors at Bomber Command Instructors School, at Finningley and then at The Empire Flying school at Hullavington and the use of a little praise and encouragement, now and then was what we used to din in to the sometimes very high ranking students. We never called them "pupils" and we were "Tutors "! There are still so called Teachers in all walks of life who believe that the louder you shout the better the result. I am afraid that this is still very prevalent in American Forces training. Just look back at your own schooldays and ask yourself "Do I hate Maths because I never got the hang of it, or was it because I hated that Teacher's guts ?". I hated Maths for that reason . He was a bully and I loved English and Languages because the Masters were decent and understanding and persevered . Cliff, I would love to hear some of the German views on their training. Heidelberg, duelling and sword scars ? Or is that just fiction ? Very interesting. Reg.
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"Oh, I do like to be beside the Seaside....
Oh, I do like to be beside the Sea. There are lots of Girls beside, that I'd like to be beside. Beside the Seaside. Beside the Sea." Reginald Dixon, all in white , rising majestically, seated at the MIghty Wurlitzer Organ from the caves below the wonderful Tower Ballroom, Blackpool to the acclaim of hundreds of couples massed there, eagerly awaiting the feast of lovely melodies that accompanied their glide across that beautiful setting.
The picture that Andy has so kindly posted above was taken on my first leave after finishing my "OPs" and the Flying Instructors' course at Lulsgate Bottom. It was taken on the Promenade at Blackpool and I was a "Sprog" F.O. in June 1944. I had over 850 hours in my Log Book; My lovely Wife was with me, my first born, Peter , was five months old, I had just celebrated my 22nd. Birthday and for the first time could reasonably look forward to a life without the dreaded "Chop", hanging over me, which was what we used to use as an euphemism for "Getting the Chop" which ,as you can see, is another one for the first. I can honestly say that the feeling of being "screened" from Operations in the dark days of Bomber Command's worst losses of 1942/3/4 must have been like the feelings of a condemned man being told that he had been reprieved.
Those thoughts were probably in my head that sunny day in Blackpool , sixty five years ago. Sometimes "Nostalgia" is a nice place to wallow in, Reg
The picture that Andy has so kindly posted above was taken on my first leave after finishing my "OPs" and the Flying Instructors' course at Lulsgate Bottom. It was taken on the Promenade at Blackpool and I was a "Sprog" F.O. in June 1944. I had over 850 hours in my Log Book; My lovely Wife was with me, my first born, Peter , was five months old, I had just celebrated my 22nd. Birthday and for the first time could reasonably look forward to a life without the dreaded "Chop", hanging over me, which was what we used to use as an euphemism for "Getting the Chop" which ,as you can see, is another one for the first. I can honestly say that the feeling of being "screened" from Operations in the dark days of Bomber Command's worst losses of 1942/3/4 must have been like the feelings of a condemned man being told that he had been reprieved.
Those thoughts were probably in my head that sunny day in Blackpool , sixty five years ago. Sometimes "Nostalgia" is a nice place to wallow in, Reg
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The gypsy
You said:-
"My uncle ( my mothers only sibling) was in A Flight Ninth course No 1 Squadron at RAF Aberystwyth and I have a photo of the whole course dated 25th Feb 1941. How long did those courses last as in Jan 1942 as a Pilot Officer from No 40 Squadron his aircraft ( Wellington) ditched in the North Sea on a bombing raid to/from Wilhelmshaven. He ended up a POW in camps 6B/21B/L3 but two of the crew were killed."
I've been talking to Reg, as you can see from his posting he was there (ITW) at the same time as your uncle.
However what we can't understand is how quickly he got from an ITW to operations. Reg as you may recall was on the first course sent to America 42A, this started in July 41 and ended in Jan 42, Reg would have waited ages in Bournemouth for allocating to a squadron, then there was squadron based training.
So we can only assume that your Uncle was trained in the UK?
Please let us know?
"My uncle ( my mothers only sibling) was in A Flight Ninth course No 1 Squadron at RAF Aberystwyth and I have a photo of the whole course dated 25th Feb 1941. How long did those courses last as in Jan 1942 as a Pilot Officer from No 40 Squadron his aircraft ( Wellington) ditched in the North Sea on a bombing raid to/from Wilhelmshaven. He ended up a POW in camps 6B/21B/L3 but two of the crew were killed."
I've been talking to Reg, as you can see from his posting he was there (ITW) at the same time as your uncle.
However what we can't understand is how quickly he got from an ITW to operations. Reg as you may recall was on the first course sent to America 42A, this started in July 41 and ended in Jan 42, Reg would have waited ages in Bournemouth for allocating to a squadron, then there was squadron based training.
So we can only assume that your Uncle was trained in the UK?
Please let us know?
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andy1999
Yes I assume my uncle must have trained in the UK. Reg says the course was 6 weeks long so perhaps the photo dated 25th FEb 1941 was at the end of his course but even so to be on line and checked out on Wellingtons by Jan 1942 in time to have ditched showed that his training was fairly quick. Unfortunately he has since died and I wish that I had talked to him more about his RAF service.
I have just counted the number in the photo and not including the four Instructors there were 45 in total and looking a lot smarter than Reg's photo of his course!! It was of course an official photo unlike Reg's
Here are the names
Back row
H.Waugh,J.Lancaster,M,Silverstone,R.Tebbutt,A.Scott,A.F.O'Do nnell,H.S.Wagner,E.V.Vowles,G.B.Morrison,G.S.Thomson,H.A.Tay lor,A.C.Poore,H.L.Walmsley,G.A.Rowe.
Centre Row
R.E.Leeson,W.C.Robertson,C.G.Shoebridge,J.J.Wallace,C.R.Macn ab,J.Mulholland,G.Wilkinson,P.S.Sanders ( my uncle),R.A.Wright,N.C.Lerwill,F.I.Thompson,W.M.Taylor,A.E.Yo ude,W.M.Sloane,B.Travers,W.Laing
Front Row
J.F.McLaren,F.Pearson,H.K.Thompson,C.P.Wilcock,H.L.Shepherd, J.Sheffield,S.W.Butler,Cpl J.J.Forester,P/O R.O.Whitaker,Flt Lt C Wyatt-Hughes,Cpl A.Clarke,E.J.Stevens,D.B.Searle,G.K.Woollard,D.W.Marshall,C. L.Skin,C.H.Stone
I wonder how many got their " Wings " and how many survived the war.
Yes I assume my uncle must have trained in the UK. Reg says the course was 6 weeks long so perhaps the photo dated 25th FEb 1941 was at the end of his course but even so to be on line and checked out on Wellingtons by Jan 1942 in time to have ditched showed that his training was fairly quick. Unfortunately he has since died and I wish that I had talked to him more about his RAF service.
I have just counted the number in the photo and not including the four Instructors there were 45 in total and looking a lot smarter than Reg's photo of his course!! It was of course an official photo unlike Reg's
Here are the names
Back row
H.Waugh,J.Lancaster,M,Silverstone,R.Tebbutt,A.Scott,A.F.O'Do nnell,H.S.Wagner,E.V.Vowles,G.B.Morrison,G.S.Thomson,H.A.Tay lor,A.C.Poore,H.L.Walmsley,G.A.Rowe.
Centre Row
R.E.Leeson,W.C.Robertson,C.G.Shoebridge,J.J.Wallace,C.R.Macn ab,J.Mulholland,G.Wilkinson,P.S.Sanders ( my uncle),R.A.Wright,N.C.Lerwill,F.I.Thompson,W.M.Taylor,A.E.Yo ude,W.M.Sloane,B.Travers,W.Laing
Front Row
J.F.McLaren,F.Pearson,H.K.Thompson,C.P.Wilcock,H.L.Shepherd, J.Sheffield,S.W.Butler,Cpl J.J.Forester,P/O R.O.Whitaker,Flt Lt C Wyatt-Hughes,Cpl A.Clarke,E.J.Stevens,D.B.Searle,G.K.Woollard,D.W.Marshall,C. L.Skin,C.H.Stone
I wonder how many got their " Wings " and how many survived the war.
Last edited by thegypsy; 13th Oct 2009 at 12:29.
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German Aircrew.
Reg and I are both surprised we have not had any contributions from Germany, but plenty from America. Australia, Canada . in fact from all over the world , but not from Germany. We we would more than welcome any contributions from any ex German aircrew, or any information on training , etc.We admit it is a 'long shot' as numbers are rapidly dwindling, and there is also a language problem. So please contribute if possible , after all we are 'kindred spirits' and this is a very friendly thread with virtually no critics.
With regard to dwindling numbers in today's Daily Mail , an article on the A.T.A ( Atta Girls) only 15 girls are still alive out out of 164.
is there a German aircrew association ? Does any one have an email address.
Aufwieder horen., (can't find an umlaut on this keyboard }
With regard to dwindling numbers in today's Daily Mail , an article on the A.T.A ( Atta Girls) only 15 girls are still alive out out of 164.
is there a German aircrew association ? Does any one have an email address.
Aufwieder horen., (can't find an umlaut on this keyboard }
There was a very interesting obituary for Generalleutnant Gunther Rall in yesterday's Daily Telegraph.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obit...ther-Rall.html
Günther Rall - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obit...ther-Rall.html
Günther Rall - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
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To Football fans of my age
Just as a matter of interest the stretch behind the railings, where I am standing ,in the photograph on Blackpool promenade in 1944 is the beginning of the causeway down to the beach where the famous Goalkeeper Brothers of Frank Swift, Manchester City and England and his brother, Fred of Bolton Wanderers kept their fishing boats in the summer to eke out the £7 or £8 per week that they only got in the Winter and used to take the trippers out for a couple of shillings a head and were always surrounded with small boys, like me, begging autographs. Frank died in the tragic Munich disaster when he was aboard the Ambassador that crashed, as a Sports Reporter. I wonder what they would think of the unbelievable sums "earned" (but not in my book ) today !! I just thought that someone, perhaps a German speaker who remembers Frank and Nat Lofthouse in the "Lions of Austria " match.
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The ATA
Hi Cliff,
The ATA girls certainly did a wonderful job. In 1943 I was stationed at RNAS Henstridge flying Spitfires and Seafires. I hurt my right hand operating a clay pigeon machine and as I could not use the handbrake lever of a Spitfire I spent a couple of weeks attached to the station flight, flying a Stinson Reliant.
One of our pilots was doing a high altitude test in a Spitfire, his engine cut out and he made a forced landing a few miles from an airfield where they were learning to fly Horsas. I flew the Stinson Reliant to this aerodrome to pick up the pilot but when I reported to the control tower I was told that he was being kept in hospital for a day or two. Standing in the control tower was a young woman in civilian clothes powdering her nose and applying lipstick. I wondered what she was doing there. When she had finished applying her make up she picked up a parachute, walked out to a runway, boarded a Halifax, sat in the pilot's seat and took off.
A few weeks later I was back on Seafires and twelve new Seafires were delivered by ATA pilots. A couple of the ATA pilots were young women. They certainly knew there stuff!
Gordon
The ATA girls certainly did a wonderful job. In 1943 I was stationed at RNAS Henstridge flying Spitfires and Seafires. I hurt my right hand operating a clay pigeon machine and as I could not use the handbrake lever of a Spitfire I spent a couple of weeks attached to the station flight, flying a Stinson Reliant.
One of our pilots was doing a high altitude test in a Spitfire, his engine cut out and he made a forced landing a few miles from an airfield where they were learning to fly Horsas. I flew the Stinson Reliant to this aerodrome to pick up the pilot but when I reported to the control tower I was told that he was being kept in hospital for a day or two. Standing in the control tower was a young woman in civilian clothes powdering her nose and applying lipstick. I wondered what she was doing there. When she had finished applying her make up she picked up a parachute, walked out to a runway, boarded a Halifax, sat in the pilot's seat and took off.
A few weeks later I was back on Seafires and twelve new Seafires were delivered by ATA pilots. A couple of the ATA pilots were young women. They certainly knew there stuff!
Gordon
Cliffnemo
1. Press numbers lock to on
2. While pressing the ALT key type 0246 on the numbers keys on the right of the keyboard - and Bob's your mother's brother. Like this - ö.
3. Numbers for umlauts:
0228 = ä
0235 = ë
0246 = ö
0252 = ü
For Capitals:
0196 = Ä
0203 = Ë
0214 = Ö
0220 = Ü
Aufwieder horen., (can't find an umlaut on this keyboard }
2. While pressing the ALT key type 0246 on the numbers keys on the right of the keyboard - and Bob's your mother's brother. Like this - ö.
3. Numbers for umlauts:
0228 = ä
0235 = ë
0246 = ö
0252 = ü
For Capitals:
0196 = Ä
0203 = Ë
0214 = Ö
0220 = Ü
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Last weekend, I had an interesting couple of hours with my wife’s uncle, Peter Jensen, who’d been a WOP/Gunner on Sunderlands with the RAAF’s 461 Squadron based in the UK during WW2. (461 Squadron, formed in April 1942, (No. 461 Squadron RAAF - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia ) was an offshoot of No 10 Squadron, RAAF, which had been in the UK at the outbreak of the war picking up its Sunderlands. The Australian PM, seeing Britain’s immediate need as being a little more pressing than Australia’s in late 1939, offered the squadron to the UK for service there rather than return to Australia as originally planned.)
He’d brought along a few photographs – and many memories (oh, how I kicked myself for not having a tape recorder on hand). However, the good news is, we’ve arranged to meet again in a couple of weeks when he’ll loan me his rather copious notes, which I hope I can transcribe over time and share here.
Some of the things he mentioned are worth repeating. For example, 10 Squadron has the dubious distinction of being the first Australian unit to lose men in combat in WW2. This is why 10 Squadron always leads the Sydney Anzac Day march.
How they came to do so might interest some. As France was collapsing, two 10 Sqn aircrew were tasked to rescue Madame de Gaulle and her children from France. They set out in a Walrus to the pre-arranged place on the French coast. (General de Gaulle had already reached England.) Unfortunately, they arrived at the coastal port at virtually the same moment as the invading Germans – and forty or so fighters – and were promptly shot down. (After some adventures, including just missing a ferry that was sunk soon after leaving France, Madame de Gaulle eventually reached England by boat.)
Peter spoke, if all too briefly, of three incidents during his time with the RAAF in England. A crash landing in a Wellington, (“a week in hospital, a week in a convalescent home and week’s sick leave and then back to the squadron”), with a brief aside about one of their crew who’s already survived a landing while still in the extended ‘dustbin’ turret of a Whitley. Apparently, this rather weird cylindrical apparatus, similar, (but looking nothing like) the B17 dorsal turret, was extended hydraulically under the Whitley’s belly once airborne and retracted before landing. For some reason, the landing was made – with the gunner still in the turret – while it was still extended, and the turret, along with the hapless gunner, was (thankfully) rather forcefully detached from the aircraft on touchdown and sent rolling across the airfield at almost 100 knots. The gunner survived to go on to be in the crash landing Wimpy.
The second incident he spoke of was perhaps more dramatic. On July 30th 1943, (his) Sunderland ‘U’ for Uncle of 461 Squadron (i.e., ‘U 461’ as marked on the aircraft side), was among a number of Allied aircraft that came upon three surfaced U boats in the Bay of Biscay – at a time when German U Boat tactics were to stay on the surface and fight it out with attacking aircraft, (and thus they were very well equipped with anti-aircraft guns to do so). Details of the engagement can be read here: Caught on the Surface - AUD$495.00 : Aviation Art, The Art of E-commerce and here U-boat Archive - U-461 - Interrogation Report
As can be seen from the links above, Sunderland U 461 of the RAAF went on to sink U-461 of the Kriegsmarine – and saved the lives of 15 of the U Boat’s crew by dropping a life raft to the survivors. Photographs of the engagement appear below, as does a photograph taken in 1988 when Peter Jensen and the Sunderland’s captain, Dudley Marrows, met the U Boat’s captain, Wolf Stiebler, at the Australian War Memorial in Canberra.
Sunderland E 461 over the Bay of Biscay, 1943. Taken from a USAAF B24.
Sunderland U 461 attacking U-461, 30 July 1943. (Note the height the attack was made from! See links above to explain why.)
Depth charges exploding on U-461.
U-461 survivors in the water after its sinking.
Dudley Marrows, Wolf Stiebler and Peter Jensen with Sunderland model, Australian War Memorial 1988.
--------------------
His third tale, when he and his crew on Sunderland E-461 were shot down in the Bay of Biscay by six Ju88s, is all the more extraordinary thanks to the photographs he has of the engagement – most of them taken by the CO of the German Ju88 fighter squadron. Although his duty station as WOP usually had him in the centre section of the Sunderland, Peter happened to be relieving the tail gunner when E-461 was attacked by the six Ju88s. Thus he was in the tail turret for the whole engagement, running back to his crash station with only moments to spare before the Sunderland, down to only one engine, alighted on the very rough water. The engagement went on for almost two hours and before running out of ammunition, the Sunderland gunners managed to shoot down one of the attacking Ju88s. However, with only one of its four engines still operating, the aircraft was forced to ditch into the sea, in less than ideal conditions.
Sunderland E 461, with only # 3 (or ‘starboard inner’ in the RAF/RAAF parlance of the day) still operating, on very short finals just prior to alighting on the sea. Cannon shell splashes from the attacking Ju88s can be seen just forward of the # 3 engine. It being patently obvious that the aircraft was going down, the RAAF crew could not understand why the Germans kept firing at them right up to the point where the aircraft alighted onto the sea. The answer did not come until after the war, when they learned that under the system the Germans used to award kills, the kill went to the last man to hit the aircraft prior to its crashing. Hence every one of the Ju88 crews, (apart from the photographer CO, who was circling above directing the attacks), was attempting to be the one who could claim the kill.
Sunderland E 461 immediately after alighting on the sea. The 11 man crew hastily inflated their three life rafts, only to find two to be riddled with bullet holes, (one of the two that can be seen inflated here quite quickly deflated), so all 11, with two of them wounded, had to fit into and around the one remaining six man raft.
Sunderland E 461 sinking, the much-holed port wing first. The crew, still struggling to launch their life raft, can still be seen on the top of the fuselage. When the captain, Dudley Marrows, saw the Ju88 that took these photographs approach, he expected it to fire upon the survivors. He apologised to his crew for getting them into the predicament they found themselves in and instructed them to make ready to jump into the water if the Junkers commenced firing. The 11 men spent 17 hours in the water in the six man raft before being rescued the next day by HMS Starling.
Like many others who’d excelled in operations in the UK and Europe, Marrows, awarded a DSO and DFC for his service there, was treated shamefully by the RAAF upon his return to Australia late in the war. But that’s another story... that might come out in Peter’s notes.
Edited to add that what was most interesting (to me at least) was that Peter's daughter, who was with us when he showed me the photographs and told me the stories, had quite obviously not been aware of most if any of the details he related that day. I suspect there would be many families out there like that. Many if not most of that generation, so many of whom did the most extraordinary things in the war, were not given to talking much about it when they came home. I hope we can convince many more families to redress that, hopefully here, before it's too late.
He’d brought along a few photographs – and many memories (oh, how I kicked myself for not having a tape recorder on hand). However, the good news is, we’ve arranged to meet again in a couple of weeks when he’ll loan me his rather copious notes, which I hope I can transcribe over time and share here.
Some of the things he mentioned are worth repeating. For example, 10 Squadron has the dubious distinction of being the first Australian unit to lose men in combat in WW2. This is why 10 Squadron always leads the Sydney Anzac Day march.
How they came to do so might interest some. As France was collapsing, two 10 Sqn aircrew were tasked to rescue Madame de Gaulle and her children from France. They set out in a Walrus to the pre-arranged place on the French coast. (General de Gaulle had already reached England.) Unfortunately, they arrived at the coastal port at virtually the same moment as the invading Germans – and forty or so fighters – and were promptly shot down. (After some adventures, including just missing a ferry that was sunk soon after leaving France, Madame de Gaulle eventually reached England by boat.)
Peter spoke, if all too briefly, of three incidents during his time with the RAAF in England. A crash landing in a Wellington, (“a week in hospital, a week in a convalescent home and week’s sick leave and then back to the squadron”), with a brief aside about one of their crew who’s already survived a landing while still in the extended ‘dustbin’ turret of a Whitley. Apparently, this rather weird cylindrical apparatus, similar, (but looking nothing like) the B17 dorsal turret, was extended hydraulically under the Whitley’s belly once airborne and retracted before landing. For some reason, the landing was made – with the gunner still in the turret – while it was still extended, and the turret, along with the hapless gunner, was (thankfully) rather forcefully detached from the aircraft on touchdown and sent rolling across the airfield at almost 100 knots. The gunner survived to go on to be in the crash landing Wimpy.
The second incident he spoke of was perhaps more dramatic. On July 30th 1943, (his) Sunderland ‘U’ for Uncle of 461 Squadron (i.e., ‘U 461’ as marked on the aircraft side), was among a number of Allied aircraft that came upon three surfaced U boats in the Bay of Biscay – at a time when German U Boat tactics were to stay on the surface and fight it out with attacking aircraft, (and thus they were very well equipped with anti-aircraft guns to do so). Details of the engagement can be read here: Caught on the Surface - AUD$495.00 : Aviation Art, The Art of E-commerce and here U-boat Archive - U-461 - Interrogation Report
As can be seen from the links above, Sunderland U 461 of the RAAF went on to sink U-461 of the Kriegsmarine – and saved the lives of 15 of the U Boat’s crew by dropping a life raft to the survivors. Photographs of the engagement appear below, as does a photograph taken in 1988 when Peter Jensen and the Sunderland’s captain, Dudley Marrows, met the U Boat’s captain, Wolf Stiebler, at the Australian War Memorial in Canberra.
Sunderland E 461 over the Bay of Biscay, 1943. Taken from a USAAF B24.
Sunderland U 461 attacking U-461, 30 July 1943. (Note the height the attack was made from! See links above to explain why.)
Depth charges exploding on U-461.
U-461 survivors in the water after its sinking.
Dudley Marrows, Wolf Stiebler and Peter Jensen with Sunderland model, Australian War Memorial 1988.
--------------------
His third tale, when he and his crew on Sunderland E-461 were shot down in the Bay of Biscay by six Ju88s, is all the more extraordinary thanks to the photographs he has of the engagement – most of them taken by the CO of the German Ju88 fighter squadron. Although his duty station as WOP usually had him in the centre section of the Sunderland, Peter happened to be relieving the tail gunner when E-461 was attacked by the six Ju88s. Thus he was in the tail turret for the whole engagement, running back to his crash station with only moments to spare before the Sunderland, down to only one engine, alighted on the very rough water. The engagement went on for almost two hours and before running out of ammunition, the Sunderland gunners managed to shoot down one of the attacking Ju88s. However, with only one of its four engines still operating, the aircraft was forced to ditch into the sea, in less than ideal conditions.
Sunderland E 461, with only # 3 (or ‘starboard inner’ in the RAF/RAAF parlance of the day) still operating, on very short finals just prior to alighting on the sea. Cannon shell splashes from the attacking Ju88s can be seen just forward of the # 3 engine. It being patently obvious that the aircraft was going down, the RAAF crew could not understand why the Germans kept firing at them right up to the point where the aircraft alighted onto the sea. The answer did not come until after the war, when they learned that under the system the Germans used to award kills, the kill went to the last man to hit the aircraft prior to its crashing. Hence every one of the Ju88 crews, (apart from the photographer CO, who was circling above directing the attacks), was attempting to be the one who could claim the kill.
Sunderland E 461 immediately after alighting on the sea. The 11 man crew hastily inflated their three life rafts, only to find two to be riddled with bullet holes, (one of the two that can be seen inflated here quite quickly deflated), so all 11, with two of them wounded, had to fit into and around the one remaining six man raft.
Sunderland E 461 sinking, the much-holed port wing first. The crew, still struggling to launch their life raft, can still be seen on the top of the fuselage. When the captain, Dudley Marrows, saw the Ju88 that took these photographs approach, he expected it to fire upon the survivors. He apologised to his crew for getting them into the predicament they found themselves in and instructed them to make ready to jump into the water if the Junkers commenced firing. The 11 men spent 17 hours in the water in the six man raft before being rescued the next day by HMS Starling.
Like many others who’d excelled in operations in the UK and Europe, Marrows, awarded a DSO and DFC for his service there, was treated shamefully by the RAAF upon his return to Australia late in the war. But that’s another story... that might come out in Peter’s notes.
Edited to add that what was most interesting (to me at least) was that Peter's daughter, who was with us when he showed me the photographs and told me the stories, had quite obviously not been aware of most if any of the details he related that day. I suspect there would be many families out there like that. Many if not most of that generation, so many of whom did the most extraordinary things in the war, were not given to talking much about it when they came home. I hope we can convince many more families to redress that, hopefully here, before it's too late.
Last edited by Wiley; 14th Oct 2009 at 05:00.
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Question for regle/cliffnemo or anyone else
Who decided when you move up a rank in the RAF during the war?
I have just been looking at my father's service record which I got for £30 from Cranwell.
It says 12.12.37 Authorised to wear flying badge RAFVR as Sgt Pilot
24.8.40 P/O
12.11.40 Acting F/O
22.8.41 F/O
3.7.41 Act Flt Lt
28.8.42 Flt Lt
It seems that going from P/O to F/O to Flt Lt was on a yearly interval based on surviving still. What was the point of the Acting rank in between?
Was there a set time for going from Sgt Pilot to P/O? Did everyone apart from Cranwell types start as Sgt Pilots?
Who decided when you move up a rank in the RAF during the war?
I have just been looking at my father's service record which I got for £30 from Cranwell.
It says 12.12.37 Authorised to wear flying badge RAFVR as Sgt Pilot
24.8.40 P/O
12.11.40 Acting F/O
22.8.41 F/O
3.7.41 Act Flt Lt
28.8.42 Flt Lt
It seems that going from P/O to F/O to Flt Lt was on a yearly interval based on surviving still. What was the point of the Acting rank in between?
Was there a set time for going from Sgt Pilot to P/O? Did everyone apart from Cranwell types start as Sgt Pilots?
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Wizzo WARMTOAST,
Like this ?
ö HÖREN
Takes me back to D.O.S , A.S.KI and I.B.M 286s with 20 M.B hard disks. Many thanks. but will say 'Aufweider sehen' in future, that's if we receive any replies from Germany.
WILEY , FANTASTIC. Can't wait for your next post . A Wop Ag at last. Wish him 'Welcome, and all the best' from all of us. We only need a bomb aimer, and Nav, now
Like this ?
ö HÖREN
Takes me back to D.O.S , A.S.KI and I.B.M 286s with 20 M.B hard disks. Many thanks. but will say 'Aufweider sehen' in future, that's if we receive any replies from Germany.
WILEY , FANTASTIC. Can't wait for your next post . A Wop Ag at last. Wish him 'Welcome, and all the best' from all of us. We only need a bomb aimer, and Nav, now
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GYPSY.
During MY period . At the end of the first year as sergeant pilot promoted to flight sergeant automatically, after the end of the second year promoted to W/O automatically . With regard to Cranwell, as far as I know Cranwell was solely for officer cadets, and we did not have any Cranwell officer cadets on our course, only university air squadron types. But please if any one can enlarge on, or correct this, do so.
During MY period . At the end of the first year as sergeant pilot promoted to flight sergeant automatically, after the end of the second year promoted to W/O automatically . With regard to Cranwell, as far as I know Cranwell was solely for officer cadets, and we did not have any Cranwell officer cadets on our course, only university air squadron types. But please if any one can enlarge on, or correct this, do so.
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cliffnemo the other way of getting characters is to type charmap into the run box and hit return, that will show all the characters in a chart and you just click and copy then paste.
I have it as a short cut on my desktop, done by going to (in explorer) windows, system32, charmap.exe, right clicking on it and left click on send to desktop.
I have it as a short cut on my desktop, done by going to (in explorer) windows, system32, charmap.exe, right clicking on it and left click on send to desktop.
