- Contributed by听
- Lesley Howard
- People in story:听
- Norman "Robbie" Burns
- Location of story:听
- North America, England and SE Asia
- Background to story:听
- Royal Air Force
- Article ID:听
- A3420316
- Contributed on:听
- 17 December 2004
My father, Flying Officer Norman "Robbie" Burns, joined the RAFVR in April 1941 when he was 19 years old.
He trained in Oklahoma at the Spartan School of Aeronautics, and after time in Canada, returned to England and was based at RAF Panshanger until May 1944, He then went to XV Squadron at Mildenhall, where he was commissioned in Sept. 1944.
The bombing missions he flew came at the end of 1944 and the first part of 1945, and he was therefore involved in some of the last heavy raids of the war, including those on Dresden, for which Bomber Command was later so condemned.
He earned his DFC when his plane was badly damaged over Neuss, but he still successfully completed the mission and returned to base.
The citation appeared in the London Gazette in September 1945, but dad was never presented with the medal. The war in Europe had ended and the Establishment was already distancing itself from "Bomber Harris" and his strategies. Indeed, when I looked up the history of XV Squadron, I couldn't find his name in the list of medals awarded.
Dad received his medal through the post, and I know he was hurt by what he perceived to be a slight on Bomber Command as a whole.
From October 1945 to June 1946, he served in Ceylon and on York Flight with Lord Mountbatten in SEAC. He was finally demobbed in August 1946.
In common with most of those who see active service in war, dad rarely spoke about his experiences, and when he did, he tended to talk about a memorable gala reception in Penang in 46, rather than freezing nights spent at the controls of a heavy bomber. He did tell me he was frightened the whole time, but on a lighter note, he could never eat Fry's chocolate cream bars (one of my favourites as a child) because they were issued to aircrew before a mission!
I also learned about his horror at Dresden; that the RAF, flying at night, didn't really need guidance to the target because the fires could be seen from so far away.
Dad died in 1997, and it was only after his death that I looked properly at the log books, photos and other effects that he had kept since that time.
I feel very proud of him: his bravery and leadership at such a young age; his loyalty (for the rest of his life he staunchly defended the reputations of both Harris and Mountbatten), but I also feel sad that the heroism and loyalty he showed was not really publicly recognised. Perhaps making this contribution is my way of doing it.
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