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A FLYER'S STORY
When war broke out I was working for the Phoenix Assurance Co in the City. I decided to volunteer for the Air Force - to avoid going into the army!!
In May 1940, I was summoned to Cardington to be attested. This consisted of having interviews and a thorough medical examination; and then swearing an Oath of Allegiance to King George VI, his heirs and successors. Finally I was given the rank of Aircraftsman 2nd Class and a number 1161718. Some weeks later I had to give my name and number to a Corporal who said 鈥渢hat鈥檚 not a number, it鈥檚 the population of China! As far as rank was concerned, I had eight during my six years with the RAF, ending up as a Flight Lieutenant.

In September 1940, I was sent to the Elementary Flying Training School (EFTS) at Hatfield, learning on Tiger Moths. While I was there, an incident occurred which still sticks in my memory. One particular day in October, was a day of low cloud and strong winds and all the Tiger Moths were grounded. All the members of the course were therefore given extra lectures/ Suddenly during a lecture, there was the sound of a low flying aircraft flying across the airfield. One young cadet, looking out of the window said 鈥淭hat鈥檚 a Junkers 88鈥� There were cries of derision and some said 鈥淚t鈥檚 a Blenheim鈥� Almost immediately the air raid siren sounded and we all dashed for the shelters. Before we could reach them, the Junkers 88 returned, flew across the airfield, was hit by flak, but dropped four bombs on the de Haviland factory at the far end, causing several casualties and great damage. Many years later, I learned that the new super aircraft, the Mosquito was being built there. I have reflected since, that the crew of the Junkers 88 were brilliant navigators or very, very lucky.

When being trained by Flying Officer Kelsey at Hatfield, he often used to ask pupils to practice a forced landing in a field as if your engine had failed. He did this with me twice, but we found he had an ulterior motive: when we had landed in the field, he jumped out of the Tiger Moth and said `follow me'. I taxied the aircraft round the field to take off again and he would be walking along picking mushrooms. He was very fond of mushrooms and took them back to the mess for his breakfast!!
One of the rather sad things was that at the beginning of every course, which included about 50 men, they always took a picture of all the pupils and that was partly because it was recognized that some would not survive. If you went into a training establishment after the war had started, you would always find some of those in the pictures with little haloes drawn over them - they were the ones who had died. There would be up to about five in the 50 who wouldn't make it. I can't really remember a group photograph where no one had been killed.
I was at Hatfield for about 6 weeks and then went to Hulavington, Wilts. where I was flying Hawker Harts and got my wings.

I finished my training at Sutton Bridge on Hurricanes. I found Hurricanes very difficult to start with. The others were biplanes and this was a monoplane and flew at least twice as fast. The feel of it was very different and seemed to me to be going terribly fast, but when I got used to it, I did like the aircraft. On the other hand, it was somewhat more unstable than the Spitfire and required much more active hands-on flying, whilst a Spitfire when trimmed properly was much easier to handle and in good weather would almost fly itself.
For the next 6 months after training, I went to a fighter squadron in Orkney, where it was very bleak and the wind never stopped. The fighters were there firstly because of Scapa Flow and secondly to try to stop the Germans flying out into the Atlantic. They had big aircraft called Condors as well as Junkers 88s. There is a gap of about 100 miles between Orkney and Shetland which needed covering. The Germans didn't want to go right up to the north by Iceland. There were two fighter squadrons stationed up there, one on Orkney and the other was split between the Scottish mainland and Shetland, to cover these two jobs.
Was I afraid? Not usually. It is true to say that your training gives you confidence which carries you along quite a bit but there is also a feeling that it will always `happen to the other fellow' and you don't think about injury or death happening to yourself, except if you are actually in the middle of a very nasty situation. It something you just get used to.
My next job was as an instructor for almost a year at an Operational Training Unit to teach on Hurricanes and Spitfires. All the pupils already had their wings. The thing is, a Hurricane is a one-seater so you couldn't sit in with a pilot, but there was a Miles Master which was similar to the Hurricane but was a two-seater. The Instructor sat in the back and the pupil was in the front and the most important things to learn were taking off and landing. When you thought they could manage, you sent them up on a solo in a Hurricane with fingers crossed and hoped they could do it.
After leaving the OTU I did some Army co-operation work and some aircraft delivery.
I then transferred to 1697 flight at Northolt in July 1944. This was called Air Despatch Letter Service. We had Hurricanes specially adapted to carry mail. They had a special space behind the pilot and it was also possible to use one of the under--wing fuel spaces for mail. The object of this was to fly despatches from Normandy back to London. We used to fly the Hurricanes in to the airstrips and despatch riders would come from the front bringing despatches for London. It took about an hour to fly the distance back to Northolt where another despatch rider or driver would take it straight in to London, so an action which might have taken place at 7 a.m. would be reported in London by about 10 a.m. This practice gradually spread a11 over Europe as the armies advanced. We advanced with them, flying to the nearest airstrip and collecting despatches for home.
On 26 August 1944, I flew information from Balleray in France to Northolt all about De Gaulle's entry into Paris and it was very interesting to see it in the papers the next day, knowing that I had carried it in.
VE Day was very busy and I made three flights on 8 May, flying from Germany to Holland and Holland to Northolt and then back to Germany. During the post-war period we were even busier than before with mail and information, clocking up a lot of flying hours. It was during this time that I was able to have a little flight on a Focke Wulf 190 which we had captured. It was very interesting but was extremely fast and it was a little unnerving in a way because there was so much electrical equipment. Instead of levers many of the controls were just little buttons so you controlled it very tentatively hoping it would do the right thing.
My last flight as a member of the Royal Air Force was in a Spitfire on 5 April 1946 but in 1953 I did some flying at Redhiil as Air Force Reserve, because I have to admit, I missed flying. However, I finally stopped flying in May 1953 and have not flown since. I totaled up 1527 hours of which I would think half was in Hurricanes.
I didn't find running the mail dull. I enjoyed pilot navigating, taking myself from one place to another. When you trained, you did cross-country flights and set a course from A to B using landmarks to help you along. If it was bad weather, you came below the clouds and if it was too bad, you just couldn't fly. You did have radio to help you, but it was very unreliable so you needed to be able to manage without it. The airstrips were just that -just a cleared field with a runway laid by engineers. You just had to find it by checking the little villages and knowing which ones they were.
Coming in from the sea you could check where you were as you crossed the coast by the shape of the coast and the placement of the villages.
You soon learned not to get lost but it was possible to do so. The first time I took out a Spitfire - in England, fortunately - I got completely lost because it was so fast. When I looked back the place I took off from was gone. I was in rather a panic but I should have realized that by flying west to the Welsh coast and turning right I would have got to Carlisle which is where I was supposed to be going. I didn't think of it because I was in a panic but that was early on in about 1941 before I got used to finding my way. I landed at an airstrip I found and tried again. Not a very good example of good airmanship! ! !
When we weren't flying, we didn't do very much really. There were always a few of us about for company. We used to stay on the aerodrome mostly. We might mooch up and chat to the Air Controllers to see what was happening and if anything interesting was coming in. When we used to fly to Germany, later on, there was a big aerodrome built which had a lot going on. We lived in a little house with a stream behind which was lovely and a nice area to go for walks. There were very few female personnel about. However, fraternising with local German girls was very much discouraged. After the war was over, we were still there for quite some time and there used to be dances which female service personnel used to attend, which were very nice, but overall it was a very masculine life. We used to be wrapped up in flying and aircraft very much and I must say I was never bored.
It is said that some people found it very hard to settle dawn to civilian life again but I can't say I had any difficulty. To be honest, after risking your neck to some extent for six years, it was quite nice to be able to say you were going to live a normal life again.
I was very fortunate in being able to go back to my job at the Phoenix Assurance Co. First of all, they had a rule that no married women could work at the Phoenix, but they did relax that later. They were a very good company and even paid us while we were in the services. Before the war my salary was 拢120 a year, but even during the war they paid about 拢60 p.a. When I came back to work for them, my pay was 拢300 p.a. That wasn't a lot, but you could get married on that. In fact, I met my future wife at work a few months after I returned.
Arthur Lowndes AFC

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