Wg Cdr Arthur Gill, OBE, DFC

[NigG]

Arthur's last flying job was at RAF Aldergrove, Northern Ireland, in 1956-8. As CO of 23 Maintenance Unit, he test-flew an impressive assortment of aircraft, including the Javelin, Swift, Hunter and Canberra. One of the many piston-engine aircraft was the Shackleton. He had a couple of little 'asides' about flying it.

In his log books, assessments of his flying ability were invariably either 'Above the average' or 'Exceptional'. On his first attempt at landing the Shackleton, the Wing Commander Flying was watching, with a beady eye, from the Control Tower. Instead of making a normal, long and gentle approach, Arthur came in to land after an unusually low-level tight turn. Afterwards, the WCF observed: ‘That was a frightening split-arse turn… but a beautiful touch-down!’ ('Spilt-arse', I guess, is RAF slang?.. although the physiological implications imply Formula One?)

On one occasion, the technical staff needed a special wrench to remove the airscrews from a Washington. One of the US bases in England had one available, so he took a Shackleton over the Irish Sea to pick it up. Before he left he offered any airmen who were about to go on leave, a lift in the aeroplane as an alternative to making the long sea-ferry crossing. When he and his crew arrived at the aircraft he found, to his surprise, a small crowd of airmen and women, together with their baggage, waiting to climb on board. This, of course, was a maritime patrol not a passenger airplane. Quite how they all got in was never established, but on arrival, Arthur called ahead to the American airbase to arrange transport for his human cargo. The Americans laid on a bus and the contorted mass was, no doubt, much relieved to get to the railway station!

[savimosh01]

Fascinating Thread

I've just read the entire thread about Arthur Gill. I'm fascinated by your father's story, Nigel. Thank you so much for sharing it in such detail along with some of his collection of photographs, which are absolutely outstanding!

I find this quote from Peter C Smith's "Jungle Dive Bombers at War" quite moving:

"Number 84 Squadron was scheduled to convert to Mosquitos but Gill's own last flight in the Vengeance took place on 25 September 1944. He was posted home and flew FB981 from Samungli, Quetta, to Lahore, escorted for part of the way by a flight of Vengeances from the unit which he had first preserved, then led so well."

[NigG]

Originally Posted by savimosh01

I find this quote from Peter C Smith's "Jungle Dive Bombers at War" quite moving:

Savimosh

Oh thanks for that quotation, Sara... I wasn't aware Peter Smith wrote that. Actually the quote that really got to me was one written by Arthur's adjutant, Flt Lt Brian Lilly, and published in the 84 Squadron magazine after Arthur had left:

‘[Having known him for two years] I am not ashamed to confess that I had a lump in my throat when I watched him leave us for the last time. That day the Squadron lost a CO who perhaps had exerted a greater influence over its history than any of his predecessors. When he took over… he found himself in command of 132 men – all that remained of the disastrous adventure in the Far East – without aircraft, without equipment and without hope. His first objective was to prevent the squadron being disbanded… Having succeeded, he set himself the task of rebuilding 84 to its former levels of prestige and efficiency… despite many early difficulties and disappointments…

I had the opportunity to observe Arthur Gill at very close quarters. I saw an excellent pilot, a good leader and an able administrator, but the qualities which… harnessed my admiration, respect and loyalty, was his unselfish and unsparing interest in every man serving under his command. Few indeed realised the debt which members of the squadron owed to him. He rarely gave an order. His personal example was sufficient to invest a request with a greater authority. He praised his subordinates in the hour of success and in less happy times readily accepted responsibility. He was one of the most considerate men I have ever known. Perhaps it was a fault that made him do so many trivial jobs instead of insisting on others doing more for him. Despite the enormous amount of work that he did, he never refused to listen nor shirked an issue.

As I write I learn that that he has been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. I know every man in the Squadron will join me in congratulations and best wishes that the future will hold more glittering prizes than the command of this Squadron – prizes that we know he so richly deserves.’

As well as being quite an accolade, this gives some insight into Arthur's character, and the loyalty he inspired during that time. As for 'more glittering prizes', I don't think they really came... commanding 84 Sqn was his most gratifying appointment in the RAF.

[savimosh01]

Bravo

Flt Lt Lilly's assessment of your father's character, both professionally and personally, is a very special gift. Thank you for sharing, Nigel.

[NigG]

The first flight

Learning to fly in the RAF, 1937-8

Arthur’s first flight was as a sixteen-year-old, in 1932. His aunt paid for him to take a joy-ride in an Avro Cadet that took up holiday-makers, from a field behind Margate beach. It was a biplane with an open cockpit… with the noise, the slipstream and the view, it must have been enthralling! A later flight in Gypsy Moth sealed it… he wanted to learn how to fly. But with a meagre salary from his job as a fabric salesroom assistant, there was no way he could afford the cost. He turned to the (part-time) Royal Auxiliary Air Force, but this came to nothing; the RAuxAF was an exclusive organisation and its pilots tended to be rich playboys drawn from Society’s elite.

However by 1936 there were rumblings of another war with Germany. The Government began a civilian-run scheme to train pilots, called the RAF Volunteer Reserve. It was a chance for civilians who lived within reach of an appropriate aerodrome, to learn to fly on weekends and during their holidays. The invitation to apply was open to all, irrespective of their background. Having passed the selection process, Arthur attended evening classes in airmanship, navigation, armaments and aircraft servicing. After which, he was assigned to Hanworth’s London Air Park, a grass airfield, in 1937. He joined the first intake of 32 pupils at No. 5 Elementary and Reserve Flying Training School. It was equipped with Blackburn B2s (similar to the Gypsy Moth) and the instructors were all ex-short service RAF pilots.



The most memorable instructor was F/O Louis Rowley, who had been the top pilot at Alan Cobham’s Flying Circus. Rowley could pick-up a handkerchief with a hook on his wing tip. On one occasion, Rowley took over control as they took-off, turned the aircraft on its side and shot through the narrow gap between two trees on the side of the airfield. There was good advice from him too. Rowley told him: ‘I wish you wouldn’t land so close to the boundary hedge when you come in to land… I sit here with my arse squeezed tight, urging you on! It’s much better to hit the far fence at taxiing speed than it is to hit the near hedge at flying speed!’ Arthur never forgot his words.

Soon after Arthur made his first solo flight, he was told to fly circuits of the airfield. Disobeying instructions he tried to get high enough to visit the clouds. The next moment he had lost his bearings… he was lost. Flying on, looking for an airfield, his fuel gauge was getting low… the B2 carried just an hour’s worth of fuel in its top wing tank. Then he saw an airfield, put down and asked at the duty pilot’s hut where he was. He was at Farnborough… miles from Hanworth. The duty pilot telephoned Hanworth and was told not to let Arthur take-off! Rowley and a colleague arrived in another aircraft and flew him back. He got a reprimand for not doing as he was told: to stay in sight of the airfield!

A later forced landing occurred when flying aerobatics. The engine cut-out at the top of a loop, either because of fuel-starvation, or because Arthur had lost too much speed. He rolled out of the loop, pushed the nose down to gain speed and landed in a field of barley. He had no brakes or chocks in front of the wheels, so to restart, he swung the propeller then had to dash around the wing to climb-in, as the aircraft started to move forward by itself. On landing back at Hanworth, a mechanic asked him why barley stalks were caught in the undercarriage. Happily he didn’t report him.

Several student pilots lost their lives. One was an eighteen-year-old who was waiting to take-off. An RAF pilot landed on top of him, having failed to make the usual curving descent to check if it was clear. Both died in the inferno. The inquiry, that followed, recommended that some form of ground control be introduced to over-see landing and take-off.

After passing elementary flying (after 6.5 hours), he progressed on to the larger and more powerful Hart and Audax, where training included gunnery, bombing, photography and navigation exercises. They were delightful planes to fly. However, Arthur was taken by surprise, one beautiful day, having climbed to 21,000’. He didn’t realise that oxygen had to be used at that height. He went very dizzy and vague. He quickly lost height and soon recovered his senses, yet another lesson-learned!

His cousin recounted how one Sunday there was an aircraft circling their house, in Berkhamsted, and his mother wondered if it could be Arthur. A short while later, Arthur and a colleague, both in flying overalls, stepped through the garden gate. A quick cup of tea and then they all walked up to the common, helped to turn the aircraft, after which Arthur took-off, narrowly missing the golfers! [To be continued]


Beside the Hawker Audax

[Danny42C]

The Good Old Days.

NigG (#125),

...'It’s much better to hit the far fence at taxiing speed than it is to hit the near hedge at flying speed!’...

Another popular version of this good advice; "A low speed crash in the overshoot is preferable to a high-speed crash in the undershoot !"

... He turned to the (part-time) Royal Auxiliary Air Force, but this came to nothing; the RAuxAF was an exclusive organisation and its pilots tended to be rich playboys drawn from Society’s elite...

At Woodvale, 611 (West Lancs) R.Aux.A.F. (Adj) turned me down in 1946 as they were "Full up, old boy", but I had a sneaking suspicion that the same prejudice may have been at work... Like him, the Volunteer Reserve were less fussy and took me in !

...After passing elementary flying (after 6.5 hours)...

Remarkable ! (the wartime average was around 8 hours).

... Arthur was taken by surprise, one beautiful day, having climbed to 21,000’. He didn’t realise that oxygen had to be used at that height. He went very dizzy and vague. He quickly lost height and soon recovered his senses, yet another lesson-learned!...

Should've been told. Luckily he realised the symptoms in time, others did not. Its onset can be quite insidious, as I know from my own experience in the demonstration they gave us (ie on us)in a decompression chamber at OTU. Don't suppose they dare do such a thing now (H&S and all that).

Ah, those halcyon days before the war, when the RAF was "The Best Flying Club in England" !

Danny.

[NigG]

Danny

I would have thought 611 RAuxAF would have been chockablock with applicants postwar... so many pilots wanting to keep their hand in. Can't conceive of anyone turning you down if he could avoid it, Danny! I reckon the Adjutant would have been kicking himself after you left... 'Damn... that's a pity... good sort there!'

Yes, Arthur was quite proud of his going solo after 6.5 hours. One of the instructors said he was bit of a natural. Lucky him... as you'll know very well, lots of people really had to struggle... some getting the hang of flying at the last moment... others not, to their great regret.

Halcyon days... definitely seems like it to me. I think Arthur had a great time getting his Wings. If you visit Hanworth today (yes the same Hanworth that's now infamous for it riots some years ago), there's nothing left of the airfield... it's all been turned into a public recreational area, with games fields and dog-walkers. The one thing that survives, apparently, is Hanworth house, now fenced-off and sealed by the Council. This was a hotel in Arthur's day, right next to their hangar and the nearby aero-club. It was effectively their Mess. He said they had many riotous parties there... men only, of course (no women in the RAF then)... and all the instructors lost their trousers at some point. Good days, for sure... but to be followed by tough ones. Arthur was pretty sure he was the lone survivor, after the war, of the 31 students who trained with him. Ordinary guys... extraordinary sacrifice.

[Wander00]

I thought the riots were in Handsworth, not Hanworth

[Danny42C]

NigG,

...yes the same Hanworth that's now infamous for its riots some years ago...

Handsworth, of course (as Wander00 has gently corrected). Another point of similarity between Arthur (if I may be permitted to use your Father's Christian name) and myself:
In January and February of 1942, I did my Advanced School (and got my USAAC Wings) at Selma Field in Alabama. Then few people ouside the US had ever heard (or ever would hear) about the place, which was well and truly "out in the sticks".

In 1965 its name spread worldwide, on account of the race riots and the Selma Marches.

Danny.

[NigG]

Danny

Reference you joining the Volunteer Reserve post-war, can you clarify this, Danny? My understanding is that all new RAF pilots (and other aircrew) trained during wartime were enrolled in the RAF(VR), and wore VR lapel badges. But it sounds like you weren't. Also, why was the RAF(VR) still enrolling in 1946.. when, presumably, you had been demobbed, and the RAF was being down-sized?

Wander00

Oops!... yes, you are right... well spotted. The riots were in Handsworth, West Midlands, not Hanworth, London Borough of Hounslow. Apologies to the people of Hanworth. Commiserations with the people of Handsworth.

[NigG]

Originally Posted by Danny42C

NigG,

Another point of similarity between Arthur (if I may be permitted to use your Father's Christian name) and myself:

Ah!... you're from the polite and respectful generation, Danny! While the new generation is the 'familiar' one! 'All right, mate?'!! I think your way is nicer! But doubt that it will ever come back... unless there's another world war, the younger generation gets drafted, and becomes re-invested with some sense of hierarchy!

(Off-topic, I know.)

[Danny42C]

NigG (#130),

...Can you clarify this, Danny? My understanding is that all new RAF pilots (and other aircrew) trained during wartime were enrolled in the RAF(VR), and wore VR lapel badges. But it sounds like you weren't. Also, why was the RAF(VR) still enrolling in 1946.. when, presumably, you had been demobbed, and the RAF was being down-sized?...

I was enlisted (in 1940), and commissioned (in 1943), into the RAFVR. I at first had the "VR" on my shoulder as an airman, and if commissioned in the early years of the war, would have had the "VR" on my lapels. Your father would have had the same. In the same way, embodied prewar Auxiliaries wore an "A" on lapel or shoulder, which distinguished us from prewar regulars.

But then the great mass of conscripts were coming in (although aircrew were all volunteers from among them), and the RAF saw advantage in enlisting/commissioning everyone into the RAFVR, although they were not now in fact strictly "volunteers". It meant that you could get rid of them without difficulty "on the cessation of hostilities".

The "VR" on lapels now served no purpose, and was discarded. I am not sure about the OR's shoulder tag - I was a long way away, with other things to worry about at the time - (but the Auxiliaries kept their "A"s, which caused a good deal of heartache among the "genuine" volunteers). I don't think the VR was reformed until 1947 (for the RAF will always need Reserves), although most had been ruthlessly "released" at the war's end (the 1949 RAF was one-tenth the size of the 1946 one). The ones who were chosen to stay mostly were put on Short-Service Commissions (a select few were awarded Permanent Commissions).

It's complicated, I know, but that's how it was.

Thank you for the compliment !

Danny.

[NigG]

Danny

Ah yes. I checked Wikipedia, subsequent to writing my post, and noticed the RAFVR was re-established post-war. (Must remember... 'check spelling... check grammar... check Wikipedia'!). Thanks for that. Also noticed on Wiki that the 'VR' lapel badges were discontinued because they were deemed to be divisive. The VRs tending to be looked down on by the Regulars and Auxiliaries... which was pretty surprising, since half of Bomber Command aircrew were VRs by the end of 1941, and c.95% by the end of the war.

[Wander00]

It was said unkindly of a former Chief Inspector of Constabulary that he was the only police officer who in his career was defeated at two riots, Handsworth and Garden House Hotel Cambridge (the riot against the regime of the Greek "Colonels")

[Danny42C]

NigG (#133),

... Also noticed on Wiki that the 'VR' lapel badges were discontinued because they were deemed to be divisive...

A bit odd - seeing that the badges were introduced for exactly that purpose: to distinguish the Volunteer Reservists and the Auxiliaries from the regulars who had been serving on the outbreak of war. Of course they were "divisive" - they were intended to "divide" !

.... The VRs tending to be looked down on by the Regulars and Auxiliaries... which was pretty surprising...

Don't remember anything like that. When everybody was a VR, there was no point in it ("when everybody's somebody, nobody's anybody"). The dwindling number of regulars, as a proportion of the increasing number of conscripts, made the "old sweats" a rarity, but there was no reason for them to consider themselves (or anyone else to consider them) superior on that account.
The Auxiliaries (who were lucky to keep their "A"s) might have considered themselves "a cut above the rest", but this may have been just an impression gained from the envy of the real Volunteers when their "VR"s were taken away.

In a just world, it would have been perfectly simple to recruit all who volunteered before they were called up into the Volunteer Reserve, and give them "VR"s (AFAIK, there was no recruitment into the Auxiliaries after war began). and simply enlist the rest into the "RAF" and have done with it. Did the Army and Navy agonise in this way ? I think not. But "just", the World ain't.

Danny.

PS: Gentlemen, today is the 10th !

[MPN11]

Regular/Volunteer ... Unlike the RAF and RN, the Army had no such visible distinction between the categories. According to my late father [pre-War TA] there was much surprise later in the War from the Regulars, when people such as he started wearing their Territorial Decoration [with War Service counting double time!] and they discovered how many of their 'leaders' were formerly TA.

[NigG]

Danny and MPN11

The issue of Regulars and Auxiliaries looking down on Volunteer Reservists (and the Regular Army looking down on the TA) perhaps had it's origins in peacetime attitudes. The VRs and TA in peacetime were (are) part-timers. Inevitably, their level of proficiency would be inferior. The Auxiliaries were also part-time in the pre-war era, but might have assumed superiority over the VR 'newboys'. Arthur told me that VRs were looked down on, and the Wiki article corroborates that. Of course, as you say Danny, once war started everyone was full-time and fully trained, so the continuation of any prejudice seems unreasonable. But, glad to hear you never had any sense of being looked down on. Suggests that it may have happened in some units and not in others.

[Danny42C]

NigG (#137),

Thanks for the PM !

...The VRs and TA in peacetime were (are) part-timers. Inevitably, their level of proficiency would be inferior. The Auxiliaries were also part-time in the pre-war era...

So were the Auxiliaries in the post-war years. But their 20 Squadrons formed one-third of the RAF's fighter strength in the Cold War ('50s) years. (Wiki)

They were reckoned to be as efficient and as well trained as the Regular Squadrons. They flew the same aircraft (Meteor and Vampire), and with one Interception sortie on Saturday afternoons, and two on Sundays, would be not far behind the hours put in by the Regulars. Or so I was told...

They were disbanded in '57, when the Hunters and Swifts were coming it. We couldn't afford to kit them out with Hunters.....(the old, old story).

Danny.

[NigG]

Danny I bet there were some very long faces when the RAuxAF learned they were to be disbanded. The loss of a wonderful opportunity to fly (and the rest). Perhaps it was inevitable too. Though much smaller, the fighting effectiveness of the modern RAF must significantly exceed that of the 1950s' one. Technology trumps manpower (and where will it end?)

Learning to fly

Returning to some of Arthur's experiences, when he was learning to fly in 1937-9, as a member of the (part-time) RAF Volunteer Reserve... another of his memories was of 1938. He wrote:

My next forced landing was when I flying in a formation of four 'Harts'. The leader, another student-pilot, led us into thick cloud and poor visibility. When I came out of the cloud, the other three aircraft had disappeared! I looked around for a while but didn't recognise where I was, and there were no useful landmarks to enable me to locate myself on the map. So I chose a field and landed, avoiding some high trees and a power-line that ran to a farmhouse. At the far end was a herd of cows. I taxied over to some barns and asked a farm labourer where I was. 'You be at Tring, Sir', said he. I thanked him and said I hoped the cows wouldn't be producing curdled milk. 'They be alright, Sir', with a broad grin. I took off and found my way back to Hanworth. The other three were already back and said they had concluded I must have disappeared to 'shoot-up' some girlfriend's house!

That year, I watched the start of the 'King's Cup Race' whose course was from Hanworth to the Isle of Man.



[A 'Sparrowhawk', one of the entrants to the King's Cup]

The engine of one of the small aircraft failed just as it was passing over a row of houses that lined the east side of the airfield. Instead of pushing his nose down very quickly to maintain speed, then glide down to land in the field ahead, the pilot tried to turn-back to the airfield to land. With the nose pointing upwards and the rapid loss of flying speed, the aircraft stalled and then spun into one of the houses below. He was killed, of course, but so too was a woman, lying in her bed.

[to be continued]

[MPN11]

The Curse of Turnback strikes again. I recall being cautioned against trying that on my PPL ... land straight ahead, into wind (assuming there's a suitable spot, of course).