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The Sky Was Black With Planesicon for Recommended story

by Frank Mee Researcher 241911

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Frank Mee Researcher 241911
People in story:Ìý
Frank P Mee Researcher 241911
Location of story:Ìý
Norton-on-Tees
Article ID:Ìý
A2204326
Contributed on:Ìý
15 January 2004

A lovely summer evening - the boys and girls played on Norton Green, with its duck pond for sailing our homemade boats. The roller skates, bikes, and bags full of glass marbles were put aside as we concentrated on getting the boats to sail straight and not sink. People walked round the green, sat on the seats and talked. A peaceful, idyllic scene - yet it was wartime.

Suddenly, we all became aware of a steady humming sound, which got louder until it was a roar. There above us were bomber planes, masses of them flying in a wide arc. The roaring got louder as more groups of planes arrived overhead in blocks, one above the other. They flew in wide circles, seeming to be centred on the green.

All playing had stopped, the boats forgotten, as we stared at such a magnitude of four-engined bombers, by now deafening in their noise. One seemed to stagger and we could see smoke coming from an engine as it dropped out of line and turned back towards Goosepool Aerodrome (Middleton St George, or Teesside Airport as it is now known), just a mile or two away.

The whole of North Yorkshire and South Durham had become one large Airforce base, with Aerodromes at Goosepool, Croft, Leeming Bar, Dalton, Topcliffe, Dishforth and elsewhere. (Leeming Bar is still an RAF station, which sent men to the two Gulf wars and the Balkens, 60 odd years later.)

I knew all the stations as my father, a haulage contractor, took runway-making materials to them all, often with me riding shotgun, fighting Peter our dog for the window seat; he took umbrage when I tried to take over his private seat in Dad's cab.

Goosepool was home to mainly Canadians, although we did know one or two Americans who had crossed the border to join the Canadian Airforce and see the action. We had men from every part of the Empire up here: some of them were coloured; all had exotic names, reminiscent of sunny climes in far off places, on their shoulder flashes.

The sky was now black with bombers blotting out the last rays of sun, and the noise overhead had reached a crescendo. Suddenly, they started to straighten out and head for the coast. As the last engine sound died away all was quiet and tranquil once more.

Time for bed: time to collect your boats, skates and marbles, and head home for a cup of Ovaltine or, if the food box had arrived from New Zealand, a cup of Milo, a wonderful drink, plus a lard sandwich with plenty of salt. (I have reached 74 - does this put paid to all those food fad theories, I wonder?)

Next day, on the six o’clock news, we heard that there had been a thousand-bomber raid on Germany. Our brave boys had given the Hun hell, showing them that bombing us night after night would only bring repercussions. As an afterthought it was mentioned that 20 of our aircraft had failed to return. We knew that meant a lot of men were missing or dead – we’d seen the planes limping back with engines out and damage that could be seen from the ground.

I personally had seen badly shot-up planes land when I was visiting those aerodromes with dad. One came into a shelter, near where we stood, with no rear gun turret at all; it had been shot off over Germany. We saw the wounded being unloaded and the dead covered with a blanket. Also, there were planes that never made it in, the ones that crashed on the approach or the end of the runway. Sometimes there would be hung bombs that exploded as they landed, those were classed as accidents and never went on the list of dead or missing announced by the ´óÏó´«Ã½, and we now know those figures were played down as well.

We had gone to bed after an idyllic evening’s play, plus the spectacle of those masses of planes, not realising those men up there would be wondering what fate had in store, trying not to show fear, many never returning for their breakfast the next morning. War was all things to all people: to us children it was spectacle; to those involved, terror, boredom and the unknown. Is it any wonder those boys came to town and let their hair down whenever they could? They deserved all the fun they could get, as life for them was often short.

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These messages were added to this story by site members between June 2003 and January 2006. It is no longer possible to leave messages here. Find out more about the site contributors.

Message 1 - 'The Sky was Black with Planes' Frank Mee

Posted on: 16 January 2004 by Researcher 552543

Your piece was brilliant - very lucid and evokative. For myself I found the War very difficult to write about because I remember so little detail. I was only 4 and a half when it started and can just about remember the Blitz - but only because it was so traumatic. We used to visit East Anglia a lot, where I used to watch the American B17's returning in the evenings, with smoke billowing from their engines, and had a miss once, when one crashed in a near-by field - the crew having bailed out. Back home in London we occasionally witnessed the Lancasters going out in the evenings, the neighbours gathered to watch, expressing similar sentiments to those you describe. Best Wishes - Tony - Researcher 552543

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Message 2 - 'The Sky was Black with Planes' Frank Mee

Posted on: 16 January 2004 by Frank Mee Researcher 241911

Hello Tony,
Thank you for those kind words and I understand the view from your tender age would be vastly different to mine. My upbringing and age grouping made it a surety I would lap up the new excitements like a sponge. It seemed so strange at times to be playing normal games on a village green whilst masses of planes flew around overhead getting into formation to go and bomb other people who had probably been doing the same things as us earlier in the day.
I regret to say it became so common place at the time we hardly looked up from what we were doing apart from cursing the noise they made. That is what war does it dulls your senses and we forgot about those young men above who wondered if they would be coming back. I was told later that the more missions they did the more they felt their number was coming up. They still climbed into the planes though and for me that is a far braver thing to do than some of the things they handed out medals for, in fact they did not hand out many medals at all to Bomber command men.
I often when working in my garden look up and watch the flights coming into Teesside Airport, the old Goosepool Aerodrome, we are almost in line with the main runway and you can see them letting down. I think of those young men who took off and never came back or came back with horrendous injuries. They gave us the chance to have what we have today and I will forever remember them.
I write my stories so that mine and other grandchildren get some insight into what our childhood was like and hope they never ever see anything like it, some hope the way the world is going.
Frank.

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Message 3 - 'The Sky was Black with Planes' Frank Mee

Posted on: 18 January 2004 by TerryS

I too remember that evening. I was a child of about 9, staying with my grandparents near Harlow outside London during that part of the war.
The sky was indeed 'full of planes'.
I recall standing outside identifying some of the types of planes. The number of planes, the time it seemd to take for them to fly over and the variety of machines told us that 'Something Big' was going on.
The next day the ´óÏó´«Ã½ announced "One thousand planes over Germany last night".
Whether it was 1000 or not it was certainly a pschylogical boost in light of Air Marshall Goering's boast of "No enemy bomber will fly over the fatherland".
In recent years there has been some severe criticism of allied 'pattern bombing' which included civilian areas!
As far as I am concerned that moral dilemma ceased when German Zeppelins bombed the east end of London during World War I.
Also when the Germans started firing their 'Terror Weapons', the V1, Doodlebug and V2, faster than sound rockets, at Britain, there was no moral dilemma about bombing anything.

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Message 4 - 'The Sky was Black with Planes' Frank Mee

Posted on: 18 January 2004 by Frank Mee Researcher 241911

Hello Terry,
Thanks for your kind words. The whole of the east coast must have been overflown by that first thousand bomber raid, it was a sight you never forget.
I never had any qualms about the massed bombing of Germany, they started it so to my youthful mind they deserved what they got. I had relatives in London during the blitz who were in essential warwork so had to stick it out. When I got to London later in the war and saw the damage it was beyond belief, how you Londoners went through that and still remained sane I will never know.
Many thousand bomber raids took place after that first one and in our area they were mainly four engined planes though we did spot some Blenheim and Wellington's among the Lancs and Halifax, they must have scraped everything that would fly into those raids.
Living so close to the aerodromes two within six miles and another ten within twenty miles with even more further into the Vale of York we saw planes every day and would cheer them on their way.
I have read the words of those who tried to say they were mass murderers, in the main they were not there at that time so how can they judge. For two lonely years this country was on its own so when the time came to lash out who are they to judge the morality of it. None of our family including those in the forces at that time ever condemned those raids well not in my hearing so why feel guilt.
Regards Frank.

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Message 5 - 'The Sky was Black with Planes' Frank Mee

Posted on: 22 January 2004 by Researcher 552543

Hello Frank - thanks for reply and interesting description of your experiences.

Yes, whenever I think of the bravery of those crews, who went up knowing they had less than a fifty-percent chance of comming back, I'm reduced to tears and find it impossible to imagine myself being able to muster even a fraction of such courage. When later generations come to judge things, they nearly always do so from the moral perspective of their own times. It is difficult for them to imagine the culture, atmosphere and pressures of total war - how it can change your feelings and outlook. In the last war - the Second World War that is - such feelings were strengthened with the knowledge that we were fighting not the Germans as such, but the evils of Nazism. If no other war in history was Just - that one certainly was.

As I have already said, I was too young to remember much detail, but only the traumer of the raids themselves - which I tried, without exageration to describe, since I thought it important to record the memories of a five year old. Even a couple of years, either way, can make a surprising difference as to how you experience things.

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