Serving the Colours

@RHerriott

I was interested in Jenny's forefathers, at least the ones who served in the British Army.  Until well after the second world war there was often no other opportunity for an unemployed young man than enlisting as a 'sodger!'  Of course many joined the Royal Navy or Merchant Navy in similar circumstances, but reliable long term work was not always easy to obtain, nor to keep.  So, for many soldiering was a choice.  It gave a regular wage (10 shillings a week or so in 1914), a uniform as clothes were expensive, and the opportunity to see the world, a world that would remain unseen otherwise.

Those in work could count on a day or so holiday in some jobs, a weeks leave was possible but usually unpaid, unless you were in a clerical role, and wandering around the world was only for the wealthy.

So, in 1925, unable to find work, my father and his mate next door wandered up to the recruiting office.  

'How old are you?' asked the sergeant.

'18,' They replied.

'Go for a walk around the block, and come back when you are 19,' suggested the sergeant.

A short while later the pair returned.

'How old are you,' gruffed the sergeant.

'19,' they replied.

'Sign here.'

And they were in.

Well not exactly.  The MO, the doctor, decided my dad's mate had flat feet and rejected him, so my dad found himself alone in the 2nd Battalion the Kings Own Scottish Borderers,' for 7 years and 3 in reserve.

Within a year he was sending postcards from Egypt, where he climbed the pyramids, then Hong Kong where hew as to lodge for 5 years.  A young man of his time would have been lucky to get a train to North Berwick or Glasgow for a holiday.  Railways enabled many to get out and about, but if paid 10-15 shillings a week then a 3'6d rail fair was a lot.  There again, where would the money for the day off come from?  

I suspect there was also the Imperialist propaganda at the back of his mind.  The UK had an Empire, we ruled the world, and he would see no problem at the time with dominating either the Chinese or the Indians he would meet much later.  He probably considered he was doing them good!  How times and ideas change in a hundred years.  

@RHerriott

Was it 1961 my brother enlisted?  A very different time, a very differing mental outlook among the people.  The Empire remained, though it was breaking up fast.  People rejoiced in a time when 'they never had it so good,' and yet the draw of a service life, this time as a photographer in the RAF was tempting for many.   There was no 'walking round the block,' here, you enlisted at 19 or went away for a year.   National Service had ended, no conscription, so all this was voluntary, and my brother had no intention of slugging it out under bullying corporals in the army, so he joined the RAF.  Here, he found bullying corporals, but once passed the test he found intelligent men who were willing to work for the cause and have fun at the same time.  The RAF has always drawn in a more relaxed crowd, mostly middle class, and often technically minded.  This is something soldiering had little need for until the last 30 or so years.  Many young soldiers now have learned their job through online games rather than pub brawls.  Many enjoy both of course.

While dad kicked around the Chinese for a while and then tended to the hospital patients in India where he chose to be an orderly, Rob had a much more civilised time in Germany, Cyprus and what is now Dubai!  He also endured after 102% in the Gulf the pleasure of RAF Kinloss, where 102% only existed in your oven.  Whether he owned or stole the Royal Enfield bike I know not, but we never saw it. He did have a habit of acquiring shoddy vehicles.

The point that got my attention with Jenny's family is how so many were forced into the armed forces.  It was a take it or starve policy that many benefited from.  But how did this affect the children?  Some I know had family in RAF or diplomatic service and travelled across the world.  Some were dumped in Boarding schools, others on family members, or trudged around the world grabbing education here and there.  Was this good for them?  

I have to say it would have suited me in some ways,  constant change would enable me to leave behind things I did not like, as well as things I did like.  The experience of foreign places early in life, the warmth instead of the sold, different exotic foods, and possibly a less disciplined regime?  A Boarding School would have been awful, not that this would have been considered by our family, only the middle classes went there.  The main loss of constant moving would be the effect on the family.  If the family was good and able to keep together it could be a great time.  If it was troublesome or partings were forced this could be difficult for many.  Families are meant to be together.

I never enlisted, though my father often suggested I joined the Soviet Union army, for the sake of the country...

Lancaster by John Nichol

This is a good book!

I was unsure about buying it, but I had to use the book voucher from last year and only two books in that shop were worth having.  An unusual voucher in that few shops accepted it!  Only W. H. Smiths did, but only senior staff knew about this!  Tsk!

Having dumped it aside while I vegetated it was a while before I opened the book.  Having done so I read it through in a very short time.  John Nichol is not the greatest writer, but having been shot down over Iraq himself he understands something of the mindset of the men he quotes freely throughout the book.

We read something of the needs of the day, the war was in full flow and a need for a heavier bomber than what was available was noted.  A plane called the 'Manchester,' flying on two engines was designed.  This was underpowered and ineffective.   One Roy Chadwick and his associates fought through the red tape and official obstructions to produce the improved version of the 'Manchester.'  After much fighting the four engined 'Lancaster' was born!  This powerful beast, much loved by those who flew it, became the backbone of RAF 'Bomber Command,' in the fight against Nazi Germany.

Using personnel stories of the men who flew these aircraft John Nichol takes us through the building of the aircraft, thousands of high quality pieces, many made by women workers, the conditions in the factories, the relationships good and bad, and then the actual tales of combat.

Skilfully integrating individuals stories regarding the team of seven men aboard the aircraft, and on one occasion one woman, a friend of the pilot, who was stowed away on board, once!   We read of the preparation, instruction, ground crews who worked tirelessly on the aircraft, flights to the destination and the bombing of targets.  

The author is very good at making you feel part of the operation.  Memories from those who were there describing the appearance of a burning city, the flak from the ground attempting to kill them, the searchlights seeking them, and the desperate manoeuvring to avoid them.  All through this the steady, quiet voice of the bomb aimer as he sought precision to drop the bombs.  If he missed you came back the next day and tried again, this was not popular.  'Bombs Gone!' the plane lifts several feet into the air, a photograph is taken, and then the escape, at high speed, out of the flak area.  This meant heading for home, avoiding ground flak and Luftwaffe fighters on the way.  Sometimes the plane had been hit, an engine dead, flaps broken, and then the lower altitude as you struggled for the Channel and home.

Not all succeeded.  

A fully loaded Lancaster hit before dropping the bombs could explode killing all aboard.  Others would fail to make the coast, men dropping from the, often burning aircraft, forced to leave behind wounded colleagues, and then try to avoid capture on the ground.  Here, whether in France or Netherlands, the populace would do their best to aid fallen airmen.  However, it was not easy, had they been caught they could all be in a concentration camp and dealt with.  Inevitably, though aided, the men found themselves in POW camps.

One such was Cy Grant, one of 500 or more West Indians who served with the RAF during this time.  He was aided in the Netherlands but there was no choice but to hand him over.  Cy was in the camp made famous by the 'Great Escape,' though he did not take part, a black man would stand out in German held Poland at the time.  Several West Indian men are featured in the book, no racism was recorded, indeed the RAF strongly opposed this.  Only one US airman from the deep south made any comment, and he did not get far.  

This book covers the daily experience of men in action, the sleeping arrangements, the women, the pubs, the fact that death and the lost were never mentioned again.  Young men, rarely over 25, flew 30 'ops' before they could be relieved.  Many never made it, the chances of succeeding were low.  Cy Grant, as a Navigator, was part of a 'Wellington' crew who survived their 30 'ops' intact, the only crew on 'Wellingtons' to do so.  He then volunteered for Lancs!  

Some lives are continued into the end of the war and the rebuilding afterwards.  No-one wished to know their story.  All were rebuilding their life, many had even worse experiences in Army and Navy, and the joy of life, family and future lay ahead.  But the war left nightmares and a desire to find those who had fallen, to visit graves, and meet those who rescued them long years before.  This book covers all this well.

Fighting a war is hard, humans are expendable, even to the most careful General.  This book covers the hardship of war and the human reaction to it, and the life afterwards.   I recommend it.

@Bob Herriott

        

Chastise

@Bob Herriott

There has been some fuss in recent days concerning the famous 'Dambusters Raid' from some 80 years ago.  As usual, the tabloids have gone overboard on 'our heroes,' 'our boys,' and the usual sentimental garbage that follows.  This from a paper who's boss stood willingly beside Herr Hitler for a photograph, and whose paper demanded the UK stop taking in Jewish refugees, even if they are only children.  Naturally, this was not mentioned once the war began.

The 'Dambusters Raid,' a rather cockeyed attempt at knocking out three major Dams in Germany, thus destroying much industrial output, was a courageous attempt at a time when the outcome of the war was still unsure.  By making use of a 'Bouncing Bomb,' dropped at 60 feet from the water while flying, under enemy fire, at 240 mph was not one that endeared itself to the crews.  

On the night of May 16/17th 1943, the 19 Lancaster's, in two formations took off on 'Operation Chastise.'

As always, the RAF flew at night.  RAF Bomber crews always considered the USAF idea of flying bomber aircraft in large formations during the day an absurd and stupid thing to do.  The Yank crews considered flying in the dark, unsure of where you were, an unusually stupid thing to do!  Both were correct!

Rising one by one from the airfield, slowly gaining height in their extremely heavy and unusual aircraft, the Lancaster's crossed the channel heading deep into the darkness.  Problems soon arose, one aircraft had technical difficulties. another flew so low his  

'Bouncing Bomb' hit the water and was lost, though the aircraft survived and returned to base.  Three other Lancs went down under anti-aircraft fire or by hitting electricity cables.  The idea had been to fly at 100 feet to avoid detection, gunners and obstacles did however, notice them. 

After much stress the attack succeeded in breaching both the Mohne Dam and the Eder.  The rather stupid idea of breaching the huge earth dam at Sorpe failed both because of the makeup of the Dam and the great difficulty in attacking.  

The result, with only 11 of 19 aircraft returning and many of the 133 crew lost, was indecisive.  On the ground some 1600 were killed, around 800 of these slave labourers from various parts of German dominated Europe.  The damage to industry was limited, the coal mines suffered, power stations destroyed, and houses and smaller industry damaged.  A failure by Bomber Command to follow this up with several 'normal' bombing raids, could have extended the damage somewhat, but this never occurred.  

The effect on the war was limited, the effect on the UK was huge.  The raid was portrayed as a massive success, as you do in war, and the lift for morale was huge.  During late 1942, Montgomery had beaten the Germans in North Africa, in early 1943 the German attack on Stalingrad had failed, and with this bombing success the people, after four years of war, now began to believe that we could win in the end.  The raid may not have been a military success in a manner still offered by the media, but the hope of success, and even an end to the war could now be believed.  

      

The Monarchs Funeral and Twitter

Very quiet this morning.  By 8 am an empty airport bus slogged its way slowly past, a black woman, dressed West Indian style walked slowly up the road, a car or two hastened nowhere.  With the major shops shut, a bank holiday declared, and many waiting in for the queens funeral procession on TV there is an air of silence about the town.  Well, apart from that siren just now, trouble down at the bypass I reckon.  Even the dogwalkers are silent, no barking, no gossip, very quiet even for here.  

The constant TV pictures on YouTube, happily without the sycophantic commentary elsewhere, show us men in uniform taking position, crowds eagerly awaiting, some have been there in position for three days!  What loo do they use is my first question?  10,000 Police march into position, all dressed in dark uniforms, the Royal Navy take their position also.  In 1901 the horses pulling Queen Victoria failed for some reason so the RN standing guard were called in to pull the gun carriage on which she lay.  This became the tradition and will be done today also.  Tradition being very important on such occasions.  Massed pipe bands, glowing in Highland dress, full of colours most Highlanders before the 1800s never knew, play as they march to their spot in the ranks.  The crowds cheering almost every move be it police, army or workers preparing the ground.  Others praise the unity found upon such occasions, I find myself asking, will it last?  An event brings people together, daily life soon returns and today will be forgotten by Thursday.

Of course when the media tells us all have fallen silent for the funeral not all have done so willingly.  There is a need for the nation to take note of a monarchs passing but to be honest so much has been over the top and a hindrance to many.  With a growing republican feeling in parts of the UK, not yet an overpowering growth however, many are irked by the response and feel ignored, sometimes angry.  Much of this is somewhat childish, protesting at a funeral for instance, and much a 'chip on the shoulder' feeling about rich folks.  I ask such about their wealth, and many have plenty of it, and enquire as to how they spend time helping the poor?  "Do you work in a foodbank?" is always a good question, one which gets no reply.  A more balanced debate is required here.

While all this was going on I participated in one or two discussions on Twitter.  A great place to meet objective dialog and sympathetic listeners.  In answer to one man's statement that gay sex was normal I reminded him that this was abnormal, not normal.  He was based in Germany, the German Twitter has informed me this was not breaking the rules, however, UK Twitter has blocked me.  So I appealed, on scriptural grounds.  I am blocked completely now while this is investigated.  We shall see if the gay lobby rules Twitter or not soon.

Sunny Sunday

Because of the heat we need to be beside the seaside.  

Of course I am not!

Instead today I had to hobble to Kirk in the great heat once again, about 76% at the time.  This was acceptable I suppose, a normal summer in the UK today.  

Church was enjoyable today.  Marina massaged my neck for a minute, Matt told me the tale of his wife, and I felt welcomed and part of the place, which is always nice.  A service which was unusual, intended mainly for kids, almost none of whom were to be seen.  The weather has taken many out, the summer holidays has a few still trying to cross over into France at Dover, and others will be sunning themselves in downmarket Espana.  This did not matter, we all enjoy the kids things more than they do anyway.  The leader today was not used to the job, he prefers to stay at the back like me, he took us through the 'Lords Prayer,' bit by bit and once again I was struck by the need to forgive all those many enemies of mine, avoid temptation (sorry Morag you must leave), and recollect how he offered me strength to obey and follow him many years ago.  

Why have I failed so badly to do this?  Tsk!

Revived sufficiently by a mug of tea and an argument with Gordon, who was meant to be washing the mugs, I once again trekked along the road in the increasing heat.  I forgave, eventually, a driver leaving the petrol station who refused to see me and almost got me.  I avoided the temptation of reaching for the sub-machine gun US style, and made it home for a bacon roll.  

Lunch time on a Sunday is often glorious like this.

There was also a mediocre football match on display, which I was forced to watch while I pondered furiously what to scribble tonight.  Nothing came.

  

I spent some few minutes posting once more on the new blog, concerning my late brothers time in RAF Sharjah during 1970/71.  These featured a holiday jaunt into the desert of Muscat to recognise the world they were defending.  Here RAF mechanics managed to get one of the Land Rovers waterlogged!  Britain need not fear!

Interestingly, or not as the case may be, after all that sunshine I see from my position, seated in my bed staring out the window while tapping on the spare (Win11) laptop that the rain clouds are gathering.  Does this mean summer is over for another year? 

Maybe I need a different kind of hat this week....?    

Housework Thursday

Busy day today, housework, some of which has actually been done.  I then set about posting some of    my late brothers pictures on a new blog.  I tried WordPress but found it so slow at posting pictures that I scrapped it and turned back to Blogger, where I ought to have started to begin with.  The pictures come from his time in the RAF in the Middle East way back when.  What was then a dusty airbase is now adjacent to Dubai!  The runway now forms part of a road way, nothing else remaining.  It has to be said life at the time was very different there to what it is now.  Whether the people at the bottom have benefited remains to be seen.

Having done enough of that to begin with I have prepared a simple tea, ignored the rest of the jobs awaiting, and scribbled this while trying not to do anything more, though I have ensured the rubbish has gone out, most important and the place smells sweeter now. 

I went nowhere, unlike like yesterday when filled with sausage roll I ventured out on a 38 bus, the correct one, to the Braintree Village.  The entire place is being modernised to fit the plastic 'village' concept.  It looks tacky.  The usual shops for the most part remain, the overpriced Levi's, (£115 a pair!), the usual girls shops, M&S & Mountain Warehouse.  M&S a disappointment as the men's section has shrunk, allowing more room for females clearance stuff.  Nothing of any kind there appealed.  The Mountain Warehouse, shiny new bright appearance, but same nothingness for me.  The only shop where I found myself wishing I had money was 'Barbour!'   Several of their items appeal to me, but a waistcoat costing £60, a reduction, puts me off somewhat.  Another failing trip in the sun, but at least I know the 'Village' has not changed, it is still, for me, a waste of time.  Maybe next week I will visit Camulodunum?   

Photo Scan Time

 

Got myself a job!

My brother died a few years ago and with his widow now moving near my best, most attractive, and highly talented niece way down south the house has to be sold to pay the care home bills.  My brothers office, full of interesting thngs, was off limits to me in case I nicked bits.  Now however, I have been donated some of his old pictures from the days of long ago.  

Most were of his time in the RAF, this aircraft is situated somewhere in the middle east (Sharjah)where he was stationed during 1971 (Can you remember that far back?).  There are a lot of pictures of aircraft that I cannot identify, it being so long ago most have long since been scrapped.  Being the RAF they were probably on their last legs anyway, buying the latest and best for 'our boys' has never been important to our politicians.  

So, now I am attempting to scan three albums full of pictures.  Some look interesting, some boring, some fading with time, and all are off pin sharp clarity!  Using RAF cameras, and often his own (probably) second hand cameras, twisting knobs and fiddling with lenses my brother, RAF Photographer, manages to get sharp pictures while I, with my fancy dan Lumix cannot!  Bah!

 

 

These look like Hawker Hunters to me, so that dates the pictures.  This was the time the UK was withdrawing from 'East of Suez,' for financial and 'end of empire' reasons.  That said, it is no surprise to know the better aircraft, Phantoms for interest, were deployed in the UK and across Europe where they were needed.  

Not sure if below the aircraft we see the base beneath or the local town, either way I like the idea of a house surrounded by a wall with a central courtyard.  That way you remain hidden from view, rooms all around, yet have space to do your thing, I think this is very middle eastern.  I like the idea and will seek such accomodation once I am a billionaire.  Not actually in the middle east mind.

So, nothing else has been done, and probably will not be done tomorrow or until I get fed up of scanning pictures.  That will be quick mind...

 

Sunday Blether

The Bees and the beasties have been making the most of the times.  The gardens are full of bright coloured flowers inviting them to feed and investigate.  They are also full of midge like flies and kids, I am not sure which is worse.  

 

 

In between the thunder, lightning and rain we see blue sky around here.  Up north they are melting in the heat, fires are seen in woodland areas, not helped by idiot campers and their fires, and firemen are busy everywhere.  

London meanwhile is again flooded, the thunder round here was the edge of the storm, we were lucky.  In the south east heavy rain filled rivers and streams, underground passages flooded, as indeed did railway stations and the Underground.  The heavy rain we saw passed away quickly enough.

 

Climate change is real, whatever people say, and worldwide we are facing heat, rain and conditions which we are unable to control.  Russia suffers forest fires and soaring heat, Germany endure heavy rain and floods, all unusual for the time.  Whatever the cause it is time we opened our eyes to the problem, but as usual money talks.

Heading home as rain began to fall these three RAF aircraft flew over in formation.  I think these are 'Chipmunk' aircraft, they used to be the first line in RAF training but things may have changed.  It is also possible these are overflying some event (can you under fly an event?) and may no longer be official RAF planes.  Nice to see however, though I noticed the passing women gave no thought to the craft above, tsk!

 

 

I have had problems with the Blogs.  Some of the War Memorials cannot be found, though I can reach them.  Google tells me this is a problem they can fix.  However, as it involved the mobile phone this meant I had to reset the thing.  This has been having problems recently, I lost all my numbers, and other things fell apart, so a reset was required.  Naturally, since getting the phone they have altered everything and it took ages to work out what I was doing, much still has to be done.  Tomorrow I need to investigate the 'robots' problem, whatever that is, which needs fixing also.  This would be easy if I knew what they were talking about!  I am in an area of which I know nothing.  With my technical ability I could lose everything, especially my mind, by nightfall.  

Remembrance or Obsession Plus Time Drifting Away

 

                                         Sgt Jez Doak RAF?MOD

I often wonder about people who study the Great War.  

On my Twitter feed there are many, apparently normal, men who spend an enormous amount of time visiting war graves to 'pay their respects.'  On occasion I begin to wonder if these men are trapped in a war fantasy.  I quite understand the desire to know more about the two major wars, individual stories and actions, I see the interest there clearly.  However, it appears to me something is not quite right.  Many such men are living near the Great War Battlefields in France and Flanders, just up from their homes lie several war cemeteries, and during good years they often act as guides to the areas of action, relating stories learnt over many years and often from ex-servicemen themselves.  

But I sometimes wonder if they lack something in their lives?

Men require something they can attach themselves to.  Many spend an enormous amount of time reading ancient railway timetables, others visit war graves, still others rebuild ancient cars or motorbikes, some are 'Star Wars' fantasists, some support a local football team, all fine and respectable activities, although those that have wives, and not all do, may find the women have differing opinions to them.  Women, for reasons of their own may not like a house disguised as a railway station, or a football museum.  Some go to far and yell and scream when the engine of the BSA 250 is found in bits on her best tablecover, or yet again the young nephew is being regaled, willingly or not, about the 'Retreat from Mons' for the umpteenth time.  

Women are strange.

Why do men require such obsessions?  

I suppose they could become obsessed with drink or drugs, neither of which do much good in the long term, a gardening obsession could at least feed you and fill the house with attractive flowers, and the accompanying beasties.  Other obsessions could be found which may not please the wife nor be so useful.  

I wonder about men who spend their time 'paying respects' at war graves.  I appreciate remembrance from most people, I wonder about it with such men however.  Some may well have been in the forces, others have no war experience.  

It just makes me wonder if they really comprehend the individuals whom they stand before.  Do they think dead servicemen are greater than men around them today?  If so they clearly do not understand the men involved.  These were ordinary men of their day, just like those around them now, not 'Heroes' for the most part, certainly not the 'Best Generation' as the gutter press would have it, these were just men forced into a Great War, their sons forced into the second war, often without ever knowing their fathers.  Good men, often producing heroic actions, bad men, living off everyone around them and committing war crimes, most men, just responding in a good or bad manner to the situation trapping them.  Some enjoyed war, some hated it, especially those who got hurt, some profited from their time, others lost much.  But do these men standing at their graves really see the real man under the slab?

Just what does drive them to 'pay respects' so often in this way?  We all pay respects at least once a year, what causes this reaction, annually, monthly weekly even daily with such men?  An obsession with war that is in their minds or an understanding of the real thing?  

Also, if they respect the dead like this do they also consider the wounded of recent wars?  Those suffering PTSD and all too often committing suicide months or years after serving?  It is easier to remember the long dead than the suffering living today.

My knackered bodies day was complete as when leaving Tesco I got caught in a downpour.  Forgetting to eat last night turns out not to have been a good idea.  Carrying a bag full of veg (how come it was so heavy?) did not appeal either.  Lockdown has not helped my fitness.  

Standing puffing under a tree, many were doing this while the rain hammered down, I glanced at the back door of the 'Subway' opposite.  I was interested in the year '1902' with initials vaguely seen high up, as people sometimes argue about when this row of shops appeared.  However it took a moment or two before I realised the TV seen opposite that made me wonder again was in fact part of the air control system in the shop.  At least I think it is.  No matter how smart a shop may look from the front it is always worth a look round the rear, an impressive image of a business can be gleamed this way.

 

 

Who is stealing time?  

I arose at 7:22 this morning, slowly as normal, yet within minutes this clock claimed it was 10:22!

This does not make sense to me.

After the Tesco trip I found time to eat sausage rolls and drink tea, next thing it was 4:22!

Who keeps stealing the time?

Now I have time to myself I note it is almost 7pm, what is going on?

Worse than this is the calendar.

The other day it was early March, today is the 25th of May!  

What happened in between?  Who stole the days?

Time is rushing past just to fast for some of us.  When will it stop?

 

Exhibition Opening Talk

Saturday was a busy day, I rose very early as I had to be at work by ten, and it takes a while to get ready.  Before ten I arrived to be greeted with the phrase "Go away!"  This was because the email system at work had failed, again, and the email telling me to arrive at one p.m. had not arrived at my end, it did arrive around 11:30 that day however when I was back home.  So I dragged my weary bulk back home via the market ensuring I bought nothing and rested my intellect until time to retrace my steps.    

At two p.m. we had a talk to open the 'Cold War' Exhibition which runs alongside the exhibition featuring the 60's to 80's period, a very good idea indeed.  Here the curator of the 'Wethersfield Airfield Museum' give a talk on the history of the base during the days of Cold War activity.  This base was used by the USAF from the early 50'suntil sometime in the 90's when the world was once again safe for democracy, if you vote the way we say.  There appears to be no webpage but there is a 'RAF Wethersfield' Museum page on facebook which is worth visiting.  

Originally built for World War 2 bombers, twin engined A-20 'Havocs' flew from here, the runway was lengthened for jet fighter bombers when the US returned in the early 50's.  The 'Thunderstreak' and later the 'Sabre' jet that became famous during the Korean War were later superseded by the 'F100 Super Sabre' supersonic jet and later the first prototype 'F 111' arrived here.  
These and other aircraft put on airshows attended by many locals.  When asked how many in our audience of 60 persons had attended one of these around half had done so.  The locals and the Americans got on very well indeed.  The friendships were such that between the early 50's and 1990 around 4000 weddings took place, not all from the town but from the wider area.  One anecdote concerned a bus driver who often drove girls from Ipswich to the base on a Saturday night for the dances and events staged there.  He commented that when he left for home after midnight the bus was always half empty.  Many women went to the States, some men remained here and one of those was in the audience last night, by chance his photo and details were mentioned during the talk.  Many of the US folks return regularly to the town, often visiting the museum as they ought!

There was little fear during the Cold War that I can remember.  Certainly we knew of the cost if war broke out but the 'Cuban Missile Crisis' was the only time that this came close and then neither side wished to pursue this.  'MAD,' Mutually Assured Destruction, ensured no successful war was possible and few entertained the idea.  Today there is more danger from small militant groups carrying even smaller nuclear weapons in hand luggage!  
However the first CND (Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament') march left from Wethersfield and marched to the House of Commons.  I often wondered why these folks did not march through the streets of Moscow or campaigned to get the Soviets to stand down their weapons.  In war two sides participate not just one, Soviet influence was strong among these groups, feeding on fear and a one sided 'appeasement' attitude that prevailed mostly amongst the middle classes as far as I can remember.  They do not gather in large groups to oppose North Korea or Iran or Israel having such weapons, is there a reason for this? 

A very popular and enjoyable talk which afterwards encouraged some attending to wander again through the exhibits and even spend money in the shop.  This we were delighted to encourage!
It did mean we did not close until late and then I got home just in time for the 6 pm football which was acceptable after a hard day enjoying myself working.  It has been a physical hard week on my knees and I am dead beat today.  Coming home from St P's I had to crawl up the stairs and sleep of my exertions.  Sadly I feel I must do the same tomorrow, but I will manage to do so even if I would rather be hard at work somewhere...honest.

I have just discovered this on YouTube, a video by Ross from the Wethersfield Museum which is worth a look.

Sergeant Edward James Cuming 1270898

Wellington

A few days ago Tony contacted me re his research of a downed Wellington Bomber, and in particular the Wireless Operator, Sergeant  Edward James Cuming (1270898). (note the spelling)  As always I find things such as this interesting in so many ways.  During Tony's research he discovered the wireless operator came from this area yet was not one of those mentioned on the Braintree and Bocking WW2 War Memorial site that I created.  That indeed intrigues!  I had no details of this man and it appears like so many others he has left little imprint on the area, although by 1939 Braintree had around 7500 of a population. From the details given I looked around but nothing comes up which always annoys me.  Plenty of RAF sites and some indication regarding the operations at the time but nothing re the man's home or family.  However it is indeed amazing what arises when you search 'Cuming!'  

The Bombers story commences at the RAF base at Protville in Tunisia at six thirty in the evening of the 16th September 1943.  It must be remembered that the Italian campaign had only just begun, Italy surrendering on the 3rd of September, the war at this time was far from over and victory uncertain, and the crew knew they were flying into heavily defended territory.  Nevertheless the Wellington Bomber, FU-K, of 458 Squadron (An RAAF, Royal Australian Air Force Squadron, flown by RAF personnel) headed out into the night on a routine scouting mission along the coast of Italy beginning at Civitavecchia and heading up to the Savona Gorjona islands from where they intended to turn towards Bastia in the north of Corsica, and then run down the coast of Sardinia and home. This appears to have been a common routine for this squadron at the time with the danger being clear as several others were shot down, alone, in similar fashion. Nothing was heard from the aircraft after take off and it did not return to base. One man's body was however recovered, Flight Sergeant E.L.Wilson, the second pilot, who now lies buried in the Florence War Cemetery. This indicates the plane came down as it approached or passed over the islands but the wreckage has so far not been discovered.  Was there engine trouble, did enemy fire deal with them, German anti aircraft fire was very effective, or did a night fighter bring them down?  The second pilot got out and possibly the rear gunner, why not the others?   If they got out they may have landed in the sea, and during the day this was hazardous, at night such a situation would be perilous!  No message was sent, does this indicate the wireless operator or his equipment were hit and put out of action?  German pilots entered details of their hits into the squadron log, I expect German efficiency required anti-aircraft guns to report in similar manner.  One day the details may hopefully be discovered

The crew of FU-K comprised:-

RAF FO Driver, P R Captain (Pilot)
RAF Sgt E L Wilson (2nd Pilot)
RAF FO Holt, G (Navigator)
RAF Sgt E J Cuming, (Wireless Operator)
RAF Sgt G R Potter, (SE/Operator)
Sgt D A E Salt, (Rear Gunner)

Driver, Holt, Potter and our man E.J. Cuming, are commemorated on the RAF Malta memorial to those missing in the the Mediterranean area. Wilson in the Florence Cemetery and it appears no record can be found re Sgt D.A.E. Salt, possibly he survived, but like so many other war mysteries it may never be known what happened to him. He, like so many others, remains 'Known unto God.'

With so little details regarding Sgt Cuming it would be good for Tony to discover more about this man and his family. Sadly people often leave so little trace and no details of their lives are ever found. The hope is one day more information will arise. I have placed Edward James Cuming on our memorial along with two others who were not placed on the official memorial by their relatives. On occasion there are good and various reasons the names are withheld. It would be good to know why those omitted were left off the memorial also.

RAF Memorial Malta

The New Man

The new man in Iran is one Hassan Rouhani, a Muslim cleric and now President of Iran.  He replaces the renowned rabblerouser Ahmadinejad.  This will please many but will it really make any difference I wonder?  The world appeared to believe every word spoken by Ahmadinejad, or at least the worlds media believed this, but he was, like the new man, merely a front.  The real power lies with the Mullahs and Ayatollah Khameni makes the decisions, not the President.  While demanding an end to Israel filled the press the words lacked substance, there was no movement within Iran to do this merely eye catching words that pleased the general Arab population but not their leaders.  Talk like that allied to building nuclear weapons, no matter how many scientists Mossad bump off, does not make for peaceful co-existence.

Rouhani already talks well.  He has convinced the leadership, with whom he has worked for many years, that he is a conservative, he has convinced the populace that he is a reformer, and now he will no doubt spend time making the West feel he is a man with whom they 'could do business.'

We fail to understand Iran.  There are many who see this proud nation as just another Arab block.  Mad Islamic types who threaten the world while controlling the oil.  Whether this lot are mad I will leave you to ponder but one thing is sure, they are not Arabs.  Iran, or Persia if you prefer, sees itself as one of the two big nations in Asia, China being the other.  Iraq, Saudi Arabia and the rest are less than a hundred years old, Persia goes back all the way to Cyrus the Great two thousand five hundred years ago!  This is one small but pertinent attitude far too many fail to grasp.  Persians are not Arabs and are more than willing to indicate the difference.

  Cyrus Tomb

In Persian minds Cyrus was the first leader, in spite of the arrival of Christianity and then Islam and all those passing years this belief is still found in their psyche.  The West gives the impression this nation can just be kicked around, but as Saddam found, even though aided by the US and others, that is not so.  The fear caused by the arrival of the late Khomani in 1979 has not departed some minds.  While they fear a radical Islam arriving on their territory it has come in the back door through straight forward immigration policies allied to inept handling of the Middle East and later George W's needless Iraq invasion.  Persia is not Iraq.  While both were well educated nations Iran does not suffer from major sectarian rifts, all are Shia here, any attack by the West in any form will turn the entire nation against it, a land war here would be worse than Iraq! The Ayatollahs men died in their millions during Saddams war, yet they still came on.  The young well educated who strongly oppose much of the present leadership will suddenly become loyal if attacked.

Rouhani talks of moderation, Rouhani has been around a long time and is no fool (he was part-educated in Glasgow, so he must have learnt something about the real world there!), Rouhani knows that he will have to offer something different to the people and to the world, but in the end the Ayatollah holds all the keys and he remains the front man, nothing more.  He will also know how Rafsanji, a one time president, talked of change and now is banned from standing and has been roughly pushed aside.  He may well be the 'right' man from both sides point of view but he will always have to be the Ayatollahs man or he will be removed.

At 11:40 this morning the house shook with what I later discovered was a sonic boom!  I thought at the time it was either the neighbours dancing or thunder but would never have guessed at a sonic boom here.  It just does not happen over the UK and RAF pilots, this one flying the Typhoon, are only given permission for breaking the sound barrier in emergency situations.  One happened last year way 'up north' when a helicopter transmitted on the wrong frequency and caused an emergency situation response.  Essex police and the MOD have claimed this incident was 'routine!'  With hundreds of flights over our head or in fifty miles of us daily they refer to Typhoons going supersonic as routine?  Aye right!

The only other time I heard such a sound was while in Israel where it can be a daily occurrence.  I asked the Arab in the coffee shop what the artillery were firing at only to discover it was the fighter planes above.  In a small nation some discomfort is to be expected, but I could do without that one!  Today 'our boy' was right overhead having travelled across Hertfordshire and ourselves to get to wherever he was headed.  Seventy odd years ago we had B 17s, Wellingtons, Lancaster's, Spitfires and the rest over our heads daily (Well not mine you understand) and I suspect their noise was worse than an occasional 'bang' just before lunchtime.  

I wonder if we will ever discover the reason for the panic? 


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Back to Normal

The world returned to normal this morning. Vehicles sped up and down the road, the wireless offered death, despair and shock horror headlines, as did the rest of the media.  People grumbled as the passed my door, and this not surprising as the howling gales blew rain in sheets against my window, and the passers-by!  Indeed the world has forgotten the recent time of 'good will to all men,' and has returned to girning about the weather, the government, the neighbours and all else.  I, still suffering this virus have hardly slept all night. Food is not retained and I feel awful again, so normality is found here also.  My mood was not helped when the Landlords manager returned to work and informed me I will have to fix my dead oven myself!  Oh yeah?  How I ask?  They will pay but my hamfisted approach will ensure a fire that destroys half the town, what then! Bah! The rain is still coming down and I am sure the postmen will be rejoicing in such weather.  Gales blowing what mail there is out of their hands, rain filling the bags, and customers whining about 'paper mache' being put through their doors!  Up north much destruction is being caused by the storms there.  So we are not too bad I suppose.

One item caught my attention for a moment today.  David Hockney, an artist, criticised other artists, in particular Damian Hirst, for not being sole authors of their 'work.'  I found this quite amusing.  Here we have a man made famous by banal empty pictures unhappy with Damian's approach. If only either were real 'artists' and produced something that made a difference as opposed to something that made them a name then life would be better for all. Both have large bank accounts, neither cares much for any other opinion as far as I can see, yet these two are feted and prized by the chattering classes.  "It's a funny old world Saint!"

Daily Mail

Now I like looking at aircraft.  I am no 'spotter,' as I often have no idea what I am looking at, but I enjoy watching the machines fly by.  Two 'Helicopter Spotters' claim to have driven into RAF Oldham, being 'waved by' by the security men as they followed a line of vehicles entering.  They claim they thought a display was under way and innocently wandered about taking pictures of the machines.  They drove up close to one or two and were somewhat surprised after ten minutes when an armed response unit responded with arms and locked them up. Max Award and Addison Bridet were interrogated for three hours and then released.  The MOD spokesman said security had not been compromised.  Not compromised?  Two men drive in unchecked, wander about, taking photos and security is 'not compromised?  Of course it was compromised!  How easy would a terrorist have found an entrance here?  How many other bases have poor security, and many employ 'outside security' to guard the base, partly to save money and [partly to release men for other duties.  I have always found this dubious.  The armed forces ought to guard themselves, and if RAF bases are so easily entered I suspect a resurgence in the RAF Regiment after this, although George Osbourne (the Chancellor) will not allow money to be spent on this.   

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Bomber Command

From 1939 until the success of D-Day on June the 6th 1944 the only real tactic the British had to hand that could hurt the German enemy in Europe was Bomber Command.  Early results showed that the safest and most effective tactic for the RAF was to fly at night, aircraft well spaced out, and bomb the targets. For the majority of raids this was to be the procedure followed. When the Americans joined in during 1942 they decided to fly in tight group formations and flew during the day.  Both suffered heavy losses. RAF aircrews endured a tour of 30 operations, only one in six expected to survive their first tour! Some flew huge numbers of sorties, Guy Gibson VC the leader of the 'Dambusters Raid,' flew with several types of aircraft and managed at least 175 sorties. Even so the RAF bomber crews had a life expectancy worse than that of junior officers during the first world war.  By wars end these crews had served in every theatre of war and suffered 55,573 crewmen killed, 8,403 wounded and 9,838 becoming prisoners of war. This out of a total crew number of 125,000!  Most of these airmen were aged between 19 - 25, Guy Gibson was a mere 26 when he died, probably from 'friendly fire.'  RAF crews also contained many from Australia, Canada and New Zealand and the West Indies who shared the suffering of the British crews. Bombing caused major casualties on the ground and many today wish to see Bomber Command as a war crime!  It is fair to say that the majority of those who say this never actually lived under the threat of German bombing themselves, maybe if they did they may feel differently.  It has also to be said many who endured the Luftwaffe hated the effect of bombing on those on the ground in Germany also.  However if you 'sow the wind, you reap the whirlwind.' Remember those young men who courageously flew off into the freezing dark night, in danger from enemy fighters, effective anti aircraft fire and the knowledge that if they did manage to return for breakfast some at least would not.  Each night RAF airfields heard the roar of Rolls Royce engines as aircraft of many types took to the skies as the nation slept, safe in their beds, more or less.  

Lie in the Dark and Listen

by

Noel Coward

Lie in the dark and listen, 

It's clear tonight so they're flying high 

Hundreds of them, thousands perhaps, 

Riding the icy, moonlight sky. 

Men, materials, bombs and maps 

Altimeters and guns and charts 

Coffee, sandwiches, fleece-lined boots 

Bones and muscles and minds and hearts 

English saplings with English roots

Deep in the earth they've left below 

Lie in the dark and let them go 

Lie in the dark and listen.

Lie in the dark and listen

They're going over in waves and waves

High above villages, hills and streams

Country churches and little graves

And little citizen's worried dreams.

Very soon they'll have reached the sea

And far below them will lie the bays

And coves and sands where they used to be

Taken for summer holidays.

Lie in the dark and let them go

Lie in the dark and listen.

Lie in the dark and listen 

City magnates and steel contractors, 

Factory workers and politicians 

Soft hysterical little actors Ballet dancers,

'reserved' musicians, 

Safe in your warm civilian beds 

Count your profits and count your sheep

Life is flying above your heads 

Just turn over and try to sleep. 

Lie in the dark and let them go 

Theirs is a world you'll never know 

Lie in the dark and listen.

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