大象传媒

In March 1995 the Headmaster of the local school in Newburgh, Lancashire, where I then lived asked me if I would talk to the children about the experience of growing up during World War II. I agreed and to try to add interest for the children I attempted to obtain a photograph of the aircraft in which my brother flew. I contacted the Royal Air force Museum at Hendon. They were most helpful and not only sent me a photograph but also a photocopy of the Mission Card relating to David鈥檚 last flight. This contained the names of the other members of the crew who were, previously, unknown to me. I gave my talk to the children and I was pleasantly surprised by the interest they paid and the perceptive questions they asked. Having included a short description of my experience of the Blitz upon Liverpool I particularly, remember and often smile about one question posed to me by an entranced little boy when I asked if anyone had any questions. His hand shot up and eyes wide he asked 鈥渁nd did you survive Miss?鈥�. I replied 鈥淚 think so鈥�.

In March 1995, encouraged and intrigued by the train of events, I placed a notice on the TV Missing Service Pals facility to see if I could make contact with relatives of David鈥檚 comrades. By then I had obtained photographs of the five Graves and thought they would be of interest to them. Unfortunately, I did not receive a response.

In April 1995 I wrote to the Mayor of Brissy Hamegicourt and enclosed a photograph of David just in case those good people who tended to the graves wondered what the Airmen were like. The Mayor replied to me and I learned the village was preparing a ceremony to mark the 50th Anniversary of the end of World War 11 and in remembrance of the five British Airmen, lying in their graveyard, who had sacrificed their lives to achieve that end.

I prayed I could find the relatives of David鈥檚 comrades so I could tell them of the occasion. Some two hours after I opened the letter from the Mayor my telephone rang. It was a gentleman who introduced himself as Mike Newberry, the brother of Reginald Newberry. I learned he had visited Brissy Hamegicourt in 1989 and had been given information concerning me. He had tried to trace relatives of other members of the flight crew. He had persevered but could only trace me. We discussed accepting the invitation to the ceremony in Brissy. At that moment I felt my commitments were too onerous and I was hesitant about making the journey alone, but the following day my daughter Debby visited me. I told her what had happened and without hesitation she arranged flights to Paris for both of us and arranged a hire car so she could drive to Brissy and spoke to the Mayor鈥檚 wife to arrange the finer details. It seemed to me by then that something, someone, whoever, whatsoever had prompted and guided me and given me unexpected assistance towards closing the circle and tying up the loose ends of a story which began on 19th May 1940. On 6th May 1995 Debby and I flew from Manchester to Paris, Debby collected the hire car and drove to Brissy where a wonderful welcome awaited us. We were wined and dined and accommodated at a Hotel for two nights by the courtesy of our hosts. The following day Debby and I visited the graves. They were immaculate and resplendent with flowers. I learned later it was considered an honour in the village to be chosen to care for the graves and this was undertaken continuously and not just for special occasions. On 8th May Mike Newberry arrived, accompanied by his daughter and two sons. A faultless meal was provided for us followed by Champagne to toast the crew of N1380. We then visited the graves and Debby and Mike were asked to translate the epitaphs on the headstones in to French for the benefit of the many French people who had honoured us by their attendance. Pilot Officer Holbrook鈥檚 headstone was the only one that did not have an epitaph. It seemed sad but this was quickly remedied by the reading of a poignant and fitting poem. I still possess a copy of the words.

At 3.15pm all the residents of the village gathered with us. They held our hands and displayed the various Allied National Flags and the small village band performed national tunes. It was a simple but moving gesture, which caused me to shed a tear or two or more. A plaque had been commissioned by the village and fixed to the graveyard wall near to the entrance. Mike Newberry and I were invited to unveil it before we continued to the graves. At this point a young French boy, Benoit, read out my letter in English and after every two lines a young French girl repeated them in French. Five young French girls placed posies of flowers, coloured red, white and blue on each grave, whilst Debby and Mike read out the epitaph on each grave. And so, not only was the end of World War 11 remembered but also the passing of my brother and his four comrades in arms. Before we left to return home the Mayor, ever kind and thoughtful, presented me with a bottle of Champagne, expressing the wish that on the 19th May we drank a toast to remember the loss of Aircraft N1380 and the youthful crew who had surrendered their lives so that others could live in freedom.

Since my return I have pursued enquiries to try to trace the relatives of the remaining Crew and I was pleased to make contact with and meet Flight Lieutenant Owens鈥� family. I also met Squadron Leader Jacobs, formerly of 102 Squadron. He was not able to fly on the fateful night and my brother was his replacement. I became an Associate Member of 102 Squadron Association and attended their functions. I have received help, guidance and assistance from members of the Association and many other sources to try and trace the relatives.

In 1998 and 1999 I pursued enquires to trace any remaining relatives of Sergeant Barrett. Many approaches were unproductive and disappointing but the disappointments were more than remedied by the responses and the warm interest I received. I had learned that Sergeant Barrett hailed from an area near Holt in Norfolk. After unproductive enquiries I wrote to the Secretary of the Womens鈥� Institute for Holt. At that time I was a member of the Womens鈥� Institute in the area where I then lived. I received a helpful reply which appeared to confirm Sergeant Barrett and his parents lived in Holt at one time. I made contact with the Editor of The Town and Country News free Newspaper in Norfolk - Laurence Watts 鈥� who was kindness itself. He wrote and published an excellent article in the April 1999 issue of the Newspaper and asked if any readers could help with information. I received a number of letters from local people who were able to fill in snippets of information and background. I was able to garner Sergeant Barrett had lived with his mother and father. Contemporaries at his school described his appearance and demeanour. It was
obvious he was a clean cut, intelligent young man. Seemingly his mother was the District Nurse or Midwife for the local area and was noted for being a cheerful well groomed lady on every occasion, even maintaining her cheerfulness and grooming after her son鈥檚 death. I learned Sergeant Barrett had a girl friend at the time of his death. In fact, her sister telephoned me following the article in The Town and Country News. At first she was hesitant but we talked and we arranged to meet in Harrogate. She had known Sergeant Barrett and his mother and father from childhood. She related their interesting history and the fact that Sergeant Barrett鈥檚 father had published a biography arising out of the specialized nature of his work. This records he and his wife lost a daughter when she was aged 6 years and of course, they had lost their son when he was but 20 years of age. I learned Sergeant Barrett鈥檚 girl friend had married and so I considered it prudent not to enquire further. I felt by then that I knew him and his family as if I had known them in real life.

With regard to Pilot Officer Holbrook. I have ascertained his full name was Dennis Frederick Stanford Holbrook. He was born in 1920 in London. His father was Frederick Charles Arthur Holbrook and his Mother was Lucy Elizabeth Ruth Holbrook (nee Harrison). They were married on 29th April 1919 at the Parish Church of Maindee, Monmouthshire. At that time Mr. Holbrook was a 2nd Lieutenant in the Gloucestershire Regiment and Mrs. Holbrook鈥檚鈥� home address was Chesterfield, Chepstow Road, Wandsworth, London. Apart from their son, Dennis, they had a daughter, Christine Elizabeth Eileen who was born on the 7th June 1922 at 4 Westwood Road, Wandsworth, London. Mr. Holbrook is shown as living at that address although it is recorded he was a Lieutenant in the Gloucestershire Regiment but attached to the Tank Corps. A letter sent by me in 1996 to Mr & Mrs Holbrook via The Ministry of Defence to their last recorded address was returned unopened and marked 鈥淣ot at this address鈥�.

It seemed to me I had exhausted all my lines of enquiry and reached an impasse in my attempt to complete the circle and despite past coincidences and unexpected events I felt I had reached the end of the line. My life was touched by the death of my brother. I so wished to tie the loose ends of a tale which was not only part of my life but part of the jigsaw of the 鈥榤iracle鈥� of Dunkirk which, in its turn preserved my freedom to embark upon journeys and enquiries which led to me meeting so many kind, caring and helpful people. I also found the men and women of 102 Squadron were not brash, over-proud people but like my brother ordinary men and women, quiet and unpretentious by nature but possessing an inner bravery beyond words.

I had decided to let further enquiries concerning Pilot Officer Holbrook鈥檚 relatives rest but recently another unexpected coincidence occurred and renewed my interest. In May 2003 I visited Paris by coach for a short break. I was quite unaware of the route the coach would take. I had a natural interest in the scenery and places we passed. As we left Calais behind we travelled along the A26 motorway. Names became familiar from my previous trips and I noticed the A26 crossed the River Oise. When I returned home I looked at a map of France and realized I had, unknowingly, passed within a mile of Brissy. Again, I felt I was being cajoled to continue my quest and complete the circle.

Catherine Alma Dodd.
May 2003.

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