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The room at the end of the hut when we arrived was occupied by Leo Doyle -flight engineer and 'Taffy' who was the wireless operator in the same crew. Leo was the squadron character. He started as a Halton apprentice engine fitter (3 years). He had been shot down and spent some time in the Paris sewers battling against the occupying Germans. For this he had been awarded the 'Croix de Guerre'. The Halton 'brats' really knew their job and were most helpful to our engineer, whose former job was in Rotherham Council offices.

Over the door to Leo's room hung a bit of bent piping. There were constant changes of personnel in our billet. As crews went missing, replacements took their beds. We were next to Leo's room and the newcomers enquired about the piping. 'See Leo,' we said. 'Ah!’, said Leo, 'Hamburg threw the kitchen sink at us that night. It caught on the tail plane. The sink fell off -that's the waste pipe.' Typical Leo!

He loved a pub sing song, conducted by him with a poker, of which there were some 20 in his room returning from brekker one morning I saw him digging in some rough ground near the hut. 'What's on Leo? I asked. 'Ah!’ he replied, 'the Midland Bank name plate came into my hand in Newark last night, might have a police visit'. A beer shortage caused many pubs to close at 9 pm in order to spread the ration over the week. On being turned out of one in Nottingham's square, Leo said, 'His bloody clock's wrong - I'll show him.' He set off, up the clock tower to tum the hands to eight o'clock. At that point the police arrived. Leo spent the night in the cells.

SAD END OF PONGO THE DOG

Leo idolised his dog, Pongo, who lived in the room with him and sipped his beer in the Sgts' Mess. He flew on exercises below oxygen need (10,000 feet). Leo spent two or three days trying to adapt an oxygen mask so that he could take Pongo on bombing raids at 16 to 19,000ft but with no success. Pongo met a sad end. As he and Leo were returning from the Sgts Mess at about 10pm., an Aussie officer crew, returning in their car from the pub, knocked him over and killed him.

I heard the 4, or 5 shots that Leo fired at the car as I was getting into bed. Leo ran after them and had to be held back from attacking as they got out of the car - he spent some hours in the Guard Room cell, but escaped a charge.

A NARROW SCRAPE ON THE WAY HOME

Leo and his crew finished their 30 Ops and elected to carry on with 9 Sqdn, sister to 617 Sqdn (Dambusters). His singsongs now took place in Skegness, Leo conducting, complete with chalk stripes on his cap, one for each Op.

Jim (rear gunner) and I were the only two of the crew to go on the bus to Newark on a certain freezing night. Unhappily we saw our 10 o'clock return bus leaving the square. We jumped on one for Balderton RAF camp, getting off there, 8 miles from Fulbeck. The bus load were quickly into the huts, leaving us to 'borrow' bikes. My bike was good, with lights. Jim's had no lights and a flat rear tyre. We set off, pausing for a mug of cocoa with a signal box operator, who assured us that we were on course (no signposts). Further on we did a bike swap to allow Jim's tender parts to recover from six miles on a flat tyre.

A mile from home, on Stragglethorpe Road a light came towards us. Jim refused to get off, saying 'It's only a local Romeo on his way home.' The 'Romeo' was a bobby, who booked me for lack of front and rear lights at 12.20 in the forenoon. He checked our identity cards, took our hut number at Fulbeck, saying he would see us on camp tomorrow, as there had been a spate of stolen bikes. When we reached camp we hid the bikes in an air raid shelter. We visited the skipper who advised us to keep out of sight. 'Don't answer the Tannoy if called; get the puncture repaired, and take the bikes back.' There was a label hanging on the saddle of the good bike addressed to F/Sgt Lammiman, RAF Balderton. Good thing our PC missed that!

This story was entered by Jenni Waugh, ´óÏó´«Ã½ People's War Outreach Officer, on behalf of Bernard Lazenby, who accepts the site's terms and conditions.

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