- Contributed by听
- 大象传媒 Radio Norfolk Action Desk
- People in story:听
- Moira Mogford (nee Holt), Charles Holt, Elixzabeth holt, David Holt. Sgt. Glendon Booth
- Location of story:听
- Selsdon, Croydon, Surrey
- Background to story:听
- Royal Air Force
- Article ID:听
- A4310407
- Contributed on:听
- 30 June 2005
This contribution to People鈥檚 War was received by the Action Desk at 大象传媒 Radio Norfolk and submitted to the website with the permission and on behalf of Moira Mogford.
One hot Sunday afternoon in August 1940, the Battle of Britain was raging over head. We were in our garden air raid shelter when the all clear sounded. We lived in Selsdon, near Croydon, in a triangle between Croydon, Biggin Hill and Kenley aerodromes. Suddenly my Father spotted a parachute coming down in our direction, we strained our eyes to see if it was a German airman or one of ours. My father shouted, 鈥淚t鈥檚 one of ours, but it鈥檚 coming down too fast!鈥
Several neighbours joined us, all staring anxiously at the dishevelled figure fast descending towards us. He only had one shoe on and his flying jacket was hanging off one shoulder. Someone had the good sense to run and fetch a mattress, because the airman struck a telegraph pole on the way down and he was clearly badly injured. With the help of the neighbours, my father and brother laid him on the mattress and called an ambulance. He told us he was a Hurricane pilot and his aircraft had been hit by a cannon shell, damaging his parachute. He was exhausted, unshaven, had not even had time to dress properly. Over the last three days he had been involved in three sorties, shooting down an ME 109, ME 110, and on the third occasion being shot down himself. His commanding officers said Sgt. G Lendon Booth was an exceptionally fine pilot and was held in highest regard by all ranks.
My parents got in touch with the hospital where he was sent and became friendly with his parents. G Lendon was paralysed as a result of his injuries and eventually died from kidney disease, but he would never have walked again. I was only eight years old at the time and used to send him notes and postcards. He sent me (or his parents did) a tin of toffees for Christmas, and I still have the empty tin. He was only nineteen years of age, engaged to be married, to a girl called Joyce, and I think this is yet one more sad story, never to be forgotten by me or my brother.
His funeral was on February 13th 1941. We still have the newspaper cutting, which contains a picture of Sgt Booth.
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