VE-Day and Alex

I find it a little strange that those posting on Twitter re the end of the Second World War talk as if this is something people know little about.  They speak of the war as if it were distant History.  For many it appears to be just that, something from the far past, yet to me it is part of my life, and I was not even there when it occurred!

The generation gap over the past 80 or so years is quite noticeable today.  A 19 year-old in 1945 would be 95 years today, unless the cigarettes so freely donated at the time have got to him first.  His children, if any, would be in their 60's and 70's, and they with children and grandchildren and possibly great grandchildren themselves.  A very likely situation in parts of Essex I can tell you!  There is a wide variation in understanding between the five generations.  Good grief, my dad could not comprehend the 1960's, though cancer did not help his understanding, how can the younger generation today understand the war.  'The War,' so many adults talk about, reading almost daily in the gutter press memento's of days they did not see.  The attitudes, an understanding of life, has changed considerably, but not for the better, in so many ways.  Many economic improvements can be seen, but moral ones disappear rapidly. I suppose we call this 'freedom,' though the results are rarely magnified by the 'free press' who encourage such 'freedom.'

Few will notice VE Day today, the election has seen to that, and of course attention has been averted to the ongoing 'War with France' occuring in the Channel Islands, even though the 'war' does not exist.  I am told French and Royal Naval vessels fill the Forth of Forth at the moment on combined exercises, I am not sure how this affects Boris's 'War.'  Schools do tend to offer reasonable history concerning the two wars, the museum had many primary classes attending for that purpose alone, so while not ignorant of the event how can people under 60 comprehend the war and the after effects today?

 

Sadly the ALBA Party has not done well in the elections.  I suspect two reasons for this.  

The first is the deliberate decision by the media to ignore Alex.  Clearly the best politician in the land and as a danger to the rest he has been blocked from transmission, and therefore ignored by the pubic.  

The other reason is the deliberate and calculated smear campaign waged by Nicola and her acolytes.  In spite of being cleared by a female judge and mostly female jury and awarded £500,000 the smear was continued throughout. The result was Nocola's women came out and voted SNP.  Nicola makes a point of appealing to women, always claiming to be on their side, offering many opportunities for women.  Men are clearly seen as bad, and this appeals to many of today's 'women.'  As a result she keeps her job.  Well done Nicola.  

So for the time being Alex and his many followers are out in the cold.  They will be back, especially when it becomes clear Nicola does not wish for Indy after all, the many and varied excuses to 'wait' are already being offered by her people.  Alex would not agree.   

 

Book: 'Edinburgh at War'

 

 

I have just finished the first book of the year, 'Edinburgh at War,' by Craig Armstrong.  

In spite of being brought up in Edinburgh after the war (long after) I had little knowledge of events that occurred there during seven long years of service.  Obviously there were little stories that leaked out, tales of woe or funny situations, occasional photographs and the tales my dad offered re his wartime service.  However no details as such of the changes that occurred during this time.  This book goes a long way to answering the questions I was to stupid to consider asking.

Taking the war year by year the author offers tales from the media of what events appeared important, the building of defences, the formation of defence forces, in fire and medical areas, the rise of the Home Guard, and the results of enemy action.

All these things changed as the war passed.  Here we read of the grumbles, early was confusions re sirens and blackout, the council (Corporation actually at this time) action or lack off, and of course the cost of war.  Men in action if France, Dunkirk, Middle East, Far East, and once again in France and Germany.  Actions in the air, the first attacks from the air were on shipping in the Firth of Forth, the reaction to this, other bombing raids, those killed, damage caused.  Action at sea, in the air and on land involved men from this area, and all the while industry boomed making war equipment, Leith docks created many a vessel for action.  

Not surprisingly much attention is given to celebrations at wars end and royal visits.  While quaint in some eyes these reports speak of the attitudes of the day, reflected in many who were children at the time, the language used in the reports take us into the time, for those like me much is recognisable and other aspects explain the attitudes of parents for many years.

Simple things remained, the siren gave out the 'all clear' once or twice a year just to test them I suppose, treats offered kids in war, such as a rhubarb stick with some sugar, was current when we were kids also.  'Make do and mend' remained throughout the 50s and well into the 60's, in this house it remains still!   

 

I learned a great deal from this book, and it comes with relevant photogrpahs which can only help.  I recommend it to one and all.   

'Pen and Sword Books' cover many other towns and cities in this series, from Aberdeen to London, including 'Cardiff and the Valleys.'

Laptop View

My eyes! My eyes!
This has been my view all day, this laptop and screens of missing men!  Five from the first war and two from the second have been dealt with but it appears to be unending.  Scrolling down long lists of names, census returns, deaths, military, births, on and on and on.....
Stopping only to eat, I had to eat as I forgot to eat on Saturday and have been a bit off ever since, this ruined Sunday I can tell you, I nourished myself with thick lentil soup and struggled on.  I eventually drew back the curtains at lunchtime and discovered the grayness outside.  It remained there and I did not invite it inside.

Elsewhere the Aussies spent today, well yesterday, celebrating Australia Day! This I am assured has nothing to do with inventing cheap lager or stuffing English poms at cricket, indeed it is a moment of great pride when Aussies celebrate being themselves.  Good on them.
Famous for being discovered by Captain Cook sometimes in the seventeen hundreds, ignoring the Dutch who got there first, large rodents called Kangaroos, a large desert region and the majority of the population being descended from English and Irish criminals!  The Scots of course are neither criminal nor willing to go to Australia, Scots went to New Zealand and farmed sheep instead.  The glaciers there reminded them if home more than any desert might. 
The Australian is a great individual, at least I have met many when in London and all were the best type. Hard working, humorous, and the women all good looking.  Let them celebrate, they deserve themselves!

p.s. don't confuse them with Austrians, they are different.

BBC

Much excitement in politics as the Greeks stand up and rebel against austerity, an austerity much worse than that found in the UK.  It is implied by this victory by what is called the 'left wing government' the European economy will collapse when the Greeks refuse to pay their debts, and the debts are huge! Fear stalks the world and the papers are excited, especially the German ones who are paying for all this. Mind you the Greek holiday spots may be cheaper this year. Our best loved tourist guide may well be considering a return this year.

Another Book Review

Some people are born soldiers.  They consider any other lifestyle a waste of time.  It matters not who they fight for, where they fight, and often what the cause may be, but if there is a bit of bother they wish to be involved.  This does not necessarily indicate callousness or brutality, in fact the best soldier takes good care of his men and not just for the sake of their efficiency.  The subject of this book was a man born for soldiering.
His war involvement is impressive.  He ran away from Oxford and a boring Law Degree to get shot in the Boer War, after recovering he returned to action and later spent a few years in India hunting pigs! Physical fitness after he was shot became his life's priority, he hunted, rode, played Polo and any other sport, exercising at every opportunity.  Like many who had been to the 'right schools' and universities, even if they failed, he met friends and influential people who arose at various intervals in his life.  The 'old school tie' always helps, though not if it was mine I can tell you!  His eagerness for action saw him head to Somaliland to put down a rebellion and then find himself disgusted that the Great War had broken out as he was half way there!  He helped put down the 'Mad Mullah,' (funny how Islamic fights affected Britain so often then) and lost an eye and a bit if ear while doing so.  He managed to rise through the ranks while serving on the Western Front in spite of having one eye.  He passed the medical, which he hated, by promising to wear a glass eye, an eye he chucked out of the taxi on his way home and wore an eye patch ever since.  
During 1915 he was wounded in the hand, pulling his fingers off after the doctor refused to remove them, at the Somme he was shot in the ankle and also the back of the head, at Passchendaele he got one in the hip, one through the leg at Cambrai and one in the ear at Arras. He was a regular at a Park lane nursing home where I suspect he was almost one of the staff! 

All this time De Wiart was not British!  His father was Belgian, his mother Irish and it was King George who insisted he became British!  

During the attack on La Boiselle as part of the Somme 'push,' he commanded the 8th Gloucester's.  This attack on the night of the 2/3rd July met with fierce resistance.  During this he met a man cowering and he requested the reason, the soldier indicated he had been hit four times before and couldn't face any more, De Wiart pointed out he had been hit more often and they both continued the advance!  In this book the author mentions almost casually the situation pointing out they took the village, a mere jumble of rubble, after others had failed, The author mentions heavy casualties but fails to mention that he was the highest surviving officer from three battalions and his work, in the open under heavy fire, directed the operation and resulted in his receiving a Victoria Cross.  This he omits from the book.
At the end of the war De Wiart admits he had 'enjoyed the war,' and sounded rather sad that it was over.   

In between the wars the now high ranking officer liaised with the Polish government, distrusted by London, as it fought five wars at once.  His attempts at providing aid via London against Lloyd Georges wishes brought him friends in Poland and once he resigned his army duties he lived an idyllic life in a free house in the Pripet Marshes.  Had 1939 not brought another war he may well have remained there happily shooting wildfowl and anything else that passed by!  

1940 saw the Acting Major General De Wiart given command of the failed Norway expedition. Too far for air support, badly equipped, lacking support, even the French troops prepared for winter fighting had no straps for their skis, the whole sad operation was doomed from the start.   Quickly they returned home under heavy fire and much criticism.  Because of this Winston Churchill became Prime Minister, and the war was, eventually, won.
However while acting as liaison with Yugoslav forces De Wiart travelled to Cairo by Wellington Bomber, one of the more successful aircraft.   Before they left Malta where they stopped to refuel a mechanic claimed to have checked the engines personally, was he a spy wondered our author as later he swan for shore as the plane crashed a mile of Libya.   For the next two and a half years De Wiart spent his time as a prisoner of the Italians.  While treated well it was an embarrassment to him and his fellow captives.  One escape plan did work for them and he spent eight days on the run before returning to his prison and friends.  In August 1943 however the hero of our tale was transferred to Rome.  The Italians wished to seek an armistice and he accompanied, dressed in an excellent Italian suit, a General Zanussi to Lisbon from where he made his way home.

The importance of De Wiart to the British government was seen in when he was sent to represent Churchill in China with General Chiang Kai Shek.  He became effective in his new role although most of the time he was ready to rush to any war zone and enquire as to the situation.  He would have joined in even in he was older than me!  By 1947, aged 66 and in spite of an offer from Chiang to stay his time was up and retirement neared.  However he managed to fall down stairs while visiting in Rangoon and broke his back and other bits also!  Back in London he recovered but surgeons operating on him found many metal bits from previous wars while they removed!  He then retired to Ireland, hunting and fishing.

The book is written more as a diary than a racy narration.  He constantly refers to people who he met, most likely by use of his diaries, if that is he kept one, and the whole appears almost cursory when regarding the dangers he faced.  It appears to me this was how he lived his life.  He faced danger, and was not keen to be hurt or indeed killed, but that was what his job was. Understanding the dangers he was not a man to become obviously emotional about them, the 'stiff upper lip,' writ large.  His ability to get on with people, especially in Poland and China must have existed while in charge of Battalion, Brigade or army.  I suspect his men regarded him well, but possibly not in Norway!  Hi character is revealed in that neither his Victoria Cross nor his wife appears in the book, such things are either taken for granted or not relevant. I suspect there would be much to like about this man if we met him in real life, unless be objected to shooting animals of course!

He died in 1963 and is buried in Ireland.  His wealth was a few thousand pounds, money meaning less than his 'sport,' which is typical of the man.    

Sir Adrian Paul Ghislain Carton de Wiart. VC, KBE, CB, CMG, DSO

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'The Real Dad's Army'

'The Real Dad's Army' is the diary of Rodney Foster, written during the Second World War.  Foster had been born in India a son of the Raj and educated in England as so many  were. Commissioned into the army he returned to India to serve there for some time before realising promotion was stilted within the regiment structure and moved to the Indian version of the Ordinance Survey, the Survey of India, where he spent most of his time. He did return to England (never Britain please note) to collect a wife and back to the Indian army once more when the Great War broke out.  After retirement in 1932 he took a house in Hythe on the south coast of England in time to prepare for the Second World War.  Because of Mr Hitlers desire to turn Poland and Russia into his new Empire this soon followed in 1939.  After Dunkirk in 1940 a great fear of invasion by Germany took hold of Britain. A Militia was called for and hundreds of thousands of men, many ex-servicemen from the 'Last Lot' enlisted. This organisation was called at first the 'Local Defence Volunteers (the 'LDV,' known as 'Look, Duck and Vanish!').  Using whatever weapons were to hand, including spears and broom handles with sharp knives attached, these determined squads of men prepared to defend their homes.  At first it was a haphazard organisation without uniforms or proper weapons, and in some cases a motley collection of leaders.  Later called ' the 'Home Guard,' this was to become a very efficient militia thanks in part to the men like Rodney Foster who took charge of  the 'Saltwood' platoon in his own locale and later 'B' Company in Folkstone a couple of miles to the east.

'Dad's Army' was a very successful comedy show made in the 70's and still shown regularly on BBC television.  This was based on a small town similar to Hythe, on the south coast, and in immediate danger of enemy action.  A great many of the stories involved situations that arose with the 'Home Guard, the real 'Dad's Army!'  A comedy it may have been but the situations that arose were very deadly at time.  Fosters diary comments on almost daily air raids, often hitting the town with resultant loss, shells fired from across the channel, and replied to by big guns based at Dover a little further along the coast, shelling from ships of both sides in the channel and convoys attacked by enemy aircraft and fast moving 'E' Boats as the convoys passed one way or another.  In spite of the danger, and the rest of the houses in their road being commandeered by the army, the Fosters remained in their home until the end of the war.  This is remarkable as they possessed no shelter bar the big kitchen table, and all three often slept through the constant air raids and accompanying sirens!  Explosions which awoke them or shook the house from afar did not always see them rise to take an interest, sleep was more important!

The diary entries are short and to the point.  These reveal something of Rodney's character and the real daily life of the war years.  Little is said about the deprivations, although hints are abundant, and the red tape that follows from major military operations in the area is constant when he drives around as a member of the 'volunteer driving pool.' This last meant often taking the sick into hospitals or various individuals around Kent on their 'war work,' some of whom bring out Mr Fosters opinions quite clearly.  Deaths, sometimes tragic, are occasionally mentioned, but his response is a soldiers response of just 'Keep calm and get on with it,' an attitude that stayed with many who endured the war, and an attitude not so common today.  Descriptions, brief but enlightening are given of the troops around them, reports of the war in far off places, and occasional rumours, which usually abound in war under the secrecy prevailing.  One interesting aspect is the weather.  How often the entry records a summers day with the words, 'Cold,' or 'Rain all day,' 'fog,' indicating in Britain some things never change.  An occasional very 'hot' day is recorded, but not many!  A notable fact is the swing from the early years of constant fear of enemy air raids to the mentions of our aircraft, in ever increasing numbers, flying of by day and by night over the coast into enemy held territory.  Also noted are the noise of explosions and the shaking of the buildings when actions take place out of sight deep in France and Belgium. Like many others Foster compares the number going out with the number returning.  Difficulties with a senior officer caused Rodney to leave the Home Guard and become an ARP warden (Air Raid Precautions) an occupation which gave him an easier life physically and with much less 'office politics' stress.  Self importance is a curse in all military establishments.  

Rodney had developed his artistic skills while working on the 'Survey of India,' and continued to sketch and paint throughout the war, even becoming considered a 'spy' at one point for painting in a main street!  He wrote a great deal and a huge archive is now in private hands, some 22 volumes, covering his time in India and elsewhere, plus paintings etc, yet he died an obscure unknown with little if anything published.  His diary has now been published, almost by accident, and his insight into the war years are very revealing of daily life in one of the more dangerous parts of the world at that time.  A great many servicemen saw less action than those remaining in the south coast of England at that time.  This diary was difficult to put down.  Easy to read and full of interesting details revealing life as it happened during the war.  Different from other war books I have read and appealing to many folks from all backgrounds I think this was an excellent book, and not just because it was a gift!


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Boxing Day

The bright Boxing Day sunshine tempted me out this morning, although I had no intention of boxing with anyone, certainly not after the last time, mind you she was a big girl, and I ventured into town in search of Honey!  This I, am assured, will ease the cough that never ceases, or so they say. I am willing to try anything to end this horror by now.  As expected most shops are shut but there is always one supermarket here which opens to prevent the citizens starving to death. The shops take turns in doing this, and this appears satisfactory to one and all, at least judging by the waist lines around me today.  The shops all shut on Christmas Day, all bar the Muslim corner shop, and their closure renders thousands of people bereft of necessities after the long 24 hour closure.  A grand trade was under way as I passed through with my Honey and it never crossed my mind that a billion go to bed hungry and around a million will starve to death today as I watched overweight folks (like me) scrambling for the bread reduced to 60p!  


The streets were slightly busier today, although the shops were mostly shut, and most folks still appear wrapped up in family doings or recovering thereof!  Yesterday few moved.  Any cars that passed early on in the day contained mostly folks dressed up heading to church or on their way to Grannies. Later several children on bright spotless scooters or bikes were tenderly attempting the skatepark and asking mum or dad where the 'Elastoplast' was kept!  Strangely enough only one or two drunks were heard, and at least two pubs, the rough ones, were open.  Major shopping centres had their crowds of course and the takings  from the 'Sales'may prevent  some of these closing down.  The recession bites hard so bargain hunting (for things we often don't need) goes on apace.


My tired an emotional mind has been entertained by watching feeble English football (all day), which is all my mind can take just now.  When will this virus leave?  I conked out today after the lunch of left over offal, and indeed it lived up to its name, and small pint glass of wine, I blame the bug.  My wonderful niece sent me a book!  'The Real Dad's Army.'  A diary made by a chap who served in the 'Home Guard' in Kent on the south coast, right in line of Hitlers attacks, during the second world war. My favourite niece who never gets a book choice wrong! Mind you now I think about it the last one she sent was a magazine annual, the magazine was called 'The Oldie,' and the one before that was based on the TV series 'Grumpy Old Men.'  maybe I ought to have a word....



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Hitler : Nemesis

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Amazon UK

After I broke my leg (Thanks Charlotte!) I recuperated by reading William Shirer's 'The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich.' This started me on a trek through many books in an attempt to understand the reasons behind Mr Hitler's actions. Having grown up during the 50's I was always aware of the Second World War (we ran around the playground in 1956 chanting 'We won the war, in 1944). All adults had been involved in some way, reference was constantly made on the wireless, some BBC programmes linked soldiers in occupied Germany with home, and comics and films were naturally dominated with warfare. While Britain slowly recovered, all Britain got from the was was a moral victory for 'standing alone' and bankruptcy, the NHS created, main industries nationalised, and vast numbers of houses built, the war nevertheless weighed heavily on many people. How heavy it must have weighed with the single woman next door and her two year old daughter was seen in the routine visit of the milkman to 'comfort her.' Not far from us stood a rusting anti aircraft base, bus conductors were often 'Poles,' who had remained after the conflict, although they may well have been from the Baltic States, and our main games often involved guns of one sort or another.

Since reading Shirer's book I have read many others, far too many my brain tells me, and recently I acquired (free) the second of Henshaw's great work on the man. 'Hitler' Hubris' was the first and details his early life and rise to power.  I confess I struggled to finish this excellent tome and I strongly suspect that the author was feeling similar thoughts as he ended his years of study. The writing as the book draws near the end gives the impression he wanted to lie down in a dark room for a year! I know how he feels.  Three men stand out when in comes to such study, Ian Kershaw, Alan Bullock and Lawrence Rees. All three have studied diligently and produced works that aim to explain the Nazi era in both a scholarly and readable manner.  The facts are presented without hysteria or embellishment, nothing is hidden or glorified. All are worth reading and also Rees has produced a great many TV programmes that are available on many aspects of the Hitler years.

The Nazi Party took power in 1933, it crashed into oblivion a mere twelve years later. During this time a well educated, highly sophisticated nation gave itself over to one man. One man who in his short reign occupied Austria and Czechoslovakia by sleight of hand, and Poland by force and trickery. His incredible failure to understand the British mentality, he wished Britain to keep her Empire while Germany ruled Europe, and his belief that if he defeated the easier option (Soviet Russia) Great Britain would offer peace terms! With great encouragement from the army and people who disliked Poles Hitler was allowed to introduce the vicious policies that were to lead to such suffering in Russia and eventually the Gas Chambers. Indeed at this point while most wanted an end to the war, the RAF were dropping bombs on all main cities by now, the idea of defeating the Bolsheviks was very popular throughout Germany.  Of course it failed, nobody can defeat the Russian winter, and the land he sought to conquer ended up as Stalin's property. An all or nothing policy that failed completely.  

Germany had for a very long time a belief in its superiority, and after the end of the Great War many chose to believe they had indeed been 'stabbed in the back' by Communists and others and not defeated at all. The short lived democratic government failed after the 'Wall Street Crash' and the Nazi's took advantage of many attitudes at that time to take power. Hitler had great support from his people and had he died in 1940 he would be seen by them as a political hero who made Germany great again. The war had to be fought to a bitter end to finish once and for all the 'master race' attitude that lay in the psyche of the nation. Only such total devastation could end this for ever. the ruin of the country millions dead, Twenty million on the Eastern Front alone, and the majority of the leading men committing suicide or being hanged after war's end.  A sad end to a sad story. 

And as to finding out what motivated Adolf? I still don't know! So many things affected him. His nature, his bullying father, his protective mother (he kept her picture with him all the time, even in the bunker. She died when he was in his teens) his laziness, his failure to get into the academy as his art, while picturesque, was not of a high enough standard, and the Great War in which he found himself a purpose.So many things added to his 'Germanic Consciousness' and unstable personality to produce the man. The state of the nation, the somewhat twisted heart of Germany, added to this and circumstances arose, and were manufactured, to ensure one day Adolf Hitler had millions of Germans at his feet in adulation!  It shows once again how easy it is for unstable and dangerous people to rise to the top in any society, none are free from this danger.

Read this book, although beginning with the first one, 'Hubris' is the best idea. Very thick books which give the definitive tale of Hitler and the Nazi Party during these years. There are other good books already mentioned but this is the place to begin.

 

Waterstones

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May 8th 1945

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May the eighth is the day to commemorate Victory in Europe Day. Britain with its obsession with the war ought to be marking this day is some manner, but it appears to be ignored by all bar 'Google!' Even the war obsessed 'Daily Mail is ignoring this and concentrating on 'Kate's family,' and 'Muslims targeting Prince Harry.' The dead of the war forgotten for more relevant stories. The celebrations in the streets of the UK on that day in 1945 brought the end of six long years of war. Britain had stood alone, lost about 400,000 dead, suffered damage in most major and many minor places, and now the nation had to pick up the pieces and return to normal. The conflict with Japan may rage on for a few months but most were just glad this 'lot' had come to an end.  What did Britain gain from the war?  Standing alone while the rest of the world looked on gave a moral superiority but little else. The social change hoped for after the Great War that never arrived was demanded this time and Britain had the largest civic change in its history in the following years. However the nation was bankrupt, rationing continued for ten years, the winter was awful, and it appears to many that Germany gained more than Britain did!This causes some to question whether the war was worth it? It was, it had to be fought, and we do those involved an injustice by not at least mentioning them at least in passing.

The Spring light makes me wake at around half five these days, but with a little effort I can doze till nearer half six! Then I jump on the bike, yell loudly, get off and get dressed, and then jump back on the bike, a little more comfortably, and cycle for half an hour. Being Sunday the streets were very quiet and I toddled around in that vain attempt to encourage fitness. On the last lap up the slope in the park the back wheel began to cause problems. A puncture, probably caused by the remnants of the kiddies beer bottles left crashed around the pathways, and joy of joys as always it is the back wheel that has got it. No comments on my weight making that more likely please! My technical abilities will rise to the fore tomorrow. I suspect it will be Thursday at least before I get this fixed properly!  Bah!  Note how clean the bike looks in that photo? Around 14 years alter it looks a bit worn, and now I could not reach the spot in the old railway where I pictured the thing. Oh the aches, oh the muscular pains, oh me.....




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Andrewsfield

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Wiki

That great man Max had a wonderful post the other day concerning reporter Andy Rooney taking his place in a US B17 bomber as it flew on a mission over Germany in 1943. The beauty of such reporting, if 'beauty' is the word, is the first hand experience which nothing else can convey. A remarkable post!

This got me thinking about the many airfields that lie not far from my home. East Anglia, the region of England in which I am involved in Scottish mission work, is generally flat. This, plus its location on the east coast made it perfect for the many bomber and fighter squadrons that were required for use in the second world war. Close by are Wethersfield, used by the USAF until 1990 for a variety of operations, most concerned with the Cold War and now hosts the Ministry of Defence Police. Gosfield saw P-47 Thunderbolt fighters, Douglas 'Boston's' and 'Havoc' bombers fly on missions from there among others and closed in 1955. Rivenhall saw P 51-B Mustangs and B-26 Marauders at various times and was in use until 1956. Now it is reduced to being a mere gravel pit! Stansted was in military use until 1949 and is now very busy as London's Third Airport.

An excellent example of one such aerodrome is Andrewsfield.  Opened in 1943 as a base for bomber squadrons under the name 'Great Saling' a name change was required when Lieut. Gen.Frank Maxwell Andrews, the man in charge of all US troops in Europe was killed His plane came down in bad weather while on an inspection tour of Iceland. Great Saling changed its name to 'Andrewsfield as a mark of respect. This is the only named airfield. The airfield was used by both the US Eighth and Ninth Air Forces at times, and B17's of the 96th Bombardment Group flew one mission over Rennes, losing one aircraft, from Andrewsfield before being replaced by B-26 Marauder's of 322nd Bombardment Group. Constant missions were undertaken over enemy territory and the cost was high indeed. Only one aircraft, 'Flak Bait,' survived to the end of the war with 202 missions!

B-26 at Andrewsfield

 

After the B-26's moved to a base in France Mustangs flown by the Polish Wing flew escort missions and home defence sorties until early 1945. For a short time until the end of the war Gloster Meteor jet fighters were based here. Between 1948 and 1972 the airfield was allowed to degenerate. Unwanted by the RAF it slowly rotted away, apart from agricultural use, until the short grass strip was laid for the light aircraft that now use the field on a regular basis.

 Google maps comes into its own here. By inserting the town name it is easy to look around and find these, and indeed other, old airfield imprints in the land around here. Just how many were created through those turbulent years I do not know but from Norfolk down to London dozens, if not a few hundred, have left their mark on the land. I have some experience of war's leftovers as in front of our house were two huge Nissen huts that once housed anti-aircraft guns. This depot was established as defence against enemy aircraft flying up the Firth of Forth and heading for Rosyth, the Fleets base, or Glasgow, Belfast or some such area. However for the people of East Anglia they not only had the risk of bombing by German aircraft they also endured the constant noise of huge noisy bombers taking of and forming up high overhead on a daily basis. Even if their airfield did not fly that day others would and the constant noise must have had an effect on the locals. Some would say that in East Anglia many still reckoned the planes were big birds, but they are just being cruel, aren't they? 

The villages and towns round about had been used as a billeting area twenty years before during the Great War so numbers of servicemen arriving would not be a surprise. However many airmen were of course American and while movies had filled cinemas for years few had actually met someone from so far across the 'pond.' Not only that but they had money! It takes little to comprehend how a nation enduring deprivation after three years of war would be willing to accept these men into their midst. It takes less to imagine the local men's jealousy at well paid Yanks coming over here 'Over paid, over sexed  and over here!' The women flocked to them!  Nylon stockings and chewing gum could get a young man almost anything in those days!  Although it is amazing how many women appear to forget what went on during that time. Americans were welcomed in the main, and the British were well aware of how the RAF was suffering as it flew night after night on long missions deep into enemy territory. The locals knew that when those loud young men, often nineteen or twenty years of age, flew off they may well not return. 

Flying over occupied Europe was a risky business. Taking off in a heavily loaded bomber was a hard and difficult job. It took strength and courage. As the bombers crossed the enemy coast they were a target for enemy fighters, small specks in the sky closing in and five hundred miles an hour, with flashing lights on the wings. Each flash represented a bullet aimed at you!  German ack-ack was radar controlled and highly efficient. Black clouds would appear around the planes as they flew high, leaving a tell-tale vapour trail behind them. Each puff of black smoke contained shrapnel that could tear the nose of a plane, kill or maim the crew, damage an engine or bring you down. Over the target this would increase and other aircraft could at times cause risk to your own in the crowded air space. After the long steady run in to the target, when deviation from the route was impossible, the bomb filled aircraft was a sitting target, unable to defend itself. Dropping the bombs then running for home, once more under attack from air and ground forces, was equally dangerous as the run in to the target. The sight of fellow planes going down and being helpless as it twisted in the air would never leave many of these airmen. The lucky guys parachuted into prisoner of war camps, the unlucky didn't. Crossing the English coast would have brought great relief, but landing a damaged plane, often with wounded and pained men on board, was not a simple task. Many came to grief as they returned, Britain's weather not always helpful here. 

From what I can gather many made lifelong friendships and got on well except for the occasional jealous fist fight or mistake of referring to a kilted Scots soldier as 'wearing a skirt.' Such mistakes often led to Americans flying - flew through windows!  One bomber pilot spoke warmly of his attempts to integrate with the population. Mostly older men in the pub near his base. They suggested a game of 'Darts,' and he agreed. While he went to the bar for the aged, worn set kept there he noticed the locals dipping into their jackets for their own, finely honed darts. "As loser bought the drinks I reckon I kept the East Anglian economy going simply by playing darts," he later said. Around a dozen years ago it was not uncommon to see aged Americans with baseball caps encrusted with 'Eighth or Ninth Air Force' or some such flying group  wandering around revisiting old memories. No more today as these men are now in their eighties or nineties but survivors can search the web for blogs written by those who have visited, whether veterans or possibly their offspring tracing dad's story. Hmmm I wonder how many people I meet would like to meet their dad one day also? Some of course took back to Idaho or California a young woman hopeful of a life similar to the one portrayed in those movies that held them spellbound during the war. Reality was not always welcomed.

The RAF Bomber Command lost over 55,000 dead during the war. Bombing being the only way Britain could attack Germany directly until D-Day arrived in 1944. The US fliers lost around 30,000 in similar manner. Because of the accurate anti-aircraft fire the Brits decided to fly at night, in large, well spaced formations. The Americans decided their heavily armed places could do the job in the daylight with a tight formation covering each other. It did not work any better. However while some oppose the bombing of Germany, calling it a 'war crime' I can see no other action possible during the years 1939 - 1944 if Britain and her allies were to win the war. Few indeed who endured the blitz that hit so many parts of the UK thought the bombing of Germany should cease. Many did however feel compassion for those 'normal citizens' who endured as they had. When you sow the wind you do indeed reap the whirlwind!

When folks in Britain talk about the 'special relationship,' and this is mostly a media cry, they are referring in the main back to these war years. In spite of the sufferings it was surprisingly a happy time for many and the comradeship of that time has lived in their memories ever since. That is the reason many in Britain still refer to the war so often. The 'special relationship' of the locals and the US servicemen will endure in the hearts of many who lived through those days.

This video is a short version of the 'Memphis Belle' film.  It gives a good glimpse of the role of the American bomber during this time. By the way James Stewart the actor flew at least a dozen missions over enemy territory during this time. Although I have no link for this I do know he remembered his time in the UK with fondness and never forgot his service.

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September the 3rd 1939.

Today we commemorate the beginning of the Second World War. Actually it had begun on the First of the month when the Nazi party dressed prisoners in Polish uniforms and set them to attack, with no bullets, German border post. They were machine gunned into silence, and from this excuse the German invasion on the First began. The United Kingdom, under Chamberlain, one of the few men to interrupt Hitler when he was ranting, took Britain to war to free Poland, an objective never lost and unachieved only because of exhaustion and the red army.

For today's generation this is an event so far in the past as not worth talking about. This is of course understandable, as my generation, born a few years after the war, thought little about late Victorian Britain, or indeed anything outside of our ken. However the war meant a great deal to us. We ran about the school playground singing "We won the war, in 1944!" and this was twelve years after this event, revealing how close the memory was to the nation. The cinema was in the fifties filled with actors portraying a wide range of hero's on land, sea and air. 'The Dambuster's' was a highly emotive film, showing the bombers courage and reminding folk of the morale boost this gave at a time of many losses. 'The sea shall not have them,' was another reminder of the endurance of the men in both Royal and Merchant Navies, films, plays and books were used to release many inward tensions and emotions hidden during the actual conflict. This continued when TV became standard in the house. Sure attention was indeed more on the 'brave new world' built after the war, and television reflected this constantly, however the war would not go away. The first programme we saw when the TV arrived in our humble abode was a comedy called, 'The Army Game.' This somewhat unfunny programme did speak to millions who had endured, or understood, the 'joys' of military life! Field Marshall Montgomery appeared showing diagrams of how he had won the war single handedly, and would have done so quicker had the Yanks not kept interfering. "The enemy was Heeeyiah, Heeeyiah and Heeeyiah!' his plumy voice announced, "And my troops Heeeyiah, Heeeyiah and Heeeyiah! and I won!" He was of course right, and few would disagree that he was the best general of his time in the field, he certainly wouldn't!

The war that affected us so much had cost around fifty million lives, give or take a million. It had led to a rebuilt Europe that would see decades of peace for the fist time, possibly ever. It brought the US and the USSR to the fore and while we saw a peaceable 'Cold War,' ignoring the Cuban Missile crisis which brought us within minutes of mutual destruction, around fifty million died in proxy east v west wars in Central and South America, Asia and Africa. However they were far away so we let it happen! In some place the war did not end until 1974! Vietnam had been dominated by the French for many years and suffered invasion by the Japanese who came to deliver them from the western powers. Their domination was even more heartless and after they had been removed the French returned and fighting continued. The American suffered ignominious defeat there and at last the nation has peace, after almost forty years of conflict! We had it tough did you say?

War at least encourages invention, and aircraft as well as bombs, ships as well as radar developed in a handful of years. By 1945 the German Messerschmitt 262 jet fighter was bringing down allied bombers and piston engined flight was about to recede. Men had fought in the desert, in an almost 'chivalrous' way, in the jungle and on island against the Japanese in a far from chivalrous 'kill or be killed' manner. The Soviet forces, brutally handled by Stalin, had fought tooth an nail to remove the Nazi threat with at least twenty million dead in an action that was surely the worst known, so far, to man? Shipping in the Atlantic was devastated, men endured days and weeks in small lifeboats, many never recovered, while back home in spite of government warnings many still wasted what food was available, or made money on the 'black market.

Those who fought, losing friends and comrades never forget what they have seen. Rarely do they talk about it in depth, their emotions hidden in that 'manly' fashion. A fashion that often kills them when they allow the thoughts to surface many years later. Those who lose loved ones during the bombing often never remarry, other lost homes and never recovered their social position. Many of course found excitement and adventure, as long as they survived, and could say they enjoyed the war. Women found a freedom, usually sexual, that was missing during peacetime, and employment in ways they never dreamt of before the war. In short for those who served and those at home, whatever side they were on, the war was the biggest event they could ever face. The rest of their lives were governed by this event, and often the changes, especially during the sixties, were never comprehended by such as they.

One thing is sure, had Britain not 'stood alone,' had American not, eventually, entered the war, had Russia been ruled by a lesser man, we would not have a freedom nor a wealth that we possess today. Indeed without their sacrifice, often ignored by today's generation, we would not be here!




Can you imagine any politician daring to erect a poster like the one above in today's world?