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Ailish Doherty
This story is taken from an interview with Ailish Docherty, and has been added to the site with their permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions. The interview was by Deirdre Donnelly, and transcription was by Bruce Logan.
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We lived at Donnybrewer level crossing. When the train was coming we had to be out with a white flag to let the driver know it was clear. That went all day. We had to close the gate and let lorries through, then open it when the train was due.
We were so much busier when the war started. Before that it wasn’t as busy. These lorries started flying up and down — carrying sand and gravel. When war broke out we noticed so many service personnel pouring into the area on trains and so many local regiments being moved out. Soon they were building the airfiled at Eglinton and we found ourselves living on the edge of the runway. We couldn’t go out or come back home if there were planes taxi ing on the runway to take off. Indeed we had to cross the runway to get home so you needed to watch yourself. Of course there were plenty of grounds staff so they weren’t long shuing you along if you dilly dallied.

We had a permit to go over the runways of the AFB. The ARP guarded the AFB. They knew you lived there. If you met any of the officers, you had to show the permit.
They built the airfield over existing road, so people needed permission to go to their own home or property. The new road had a 2 mile detour. They allowed people to use the exterior road around the perimeter. Any strangers who used it had to sign in at Lynch’s Gate.

There was a wee van with a light at the end of the runway. If a plane was about to take off, they gave you the light and you had to stop. It was the Aircraft Control Van.
We were civilians — the green light, you could go. Red light, you stopped.

I’ll never forget the night my brother became a hero. We were standing on the street watching this plane. Something about it didn’t seem right.
Finally it dived into the Foyle. My Uncle had a flat-bottom boat. My brother Ben made a beeline through fields and hedges, unanchored the boat, oared out on the rough sea and there the pilot was standing on part of the plane. He was crying. He jumped into the boat, and hugged Ben. He had so much heavy gear on, he nearly capsized the boat.
Ben got a letter, thanking him for his bravery and actually got a job at the airfield for a long time — Im sure his rescue efforts helped to secure that position. Anyway he got a thank you letter from the ministry.

The food rationing was a curse so we took the Lisahalley ferry to Culmore Point. We went on bikes, we all had them. It was very stormy. We had wee hats, mine blew off down the Foyle. We went over and got sugar and butter. Coming back we were searched, then cycled home.

It cost 1 shilling, or 6p if you were walking. Very busy at the weekend. They made a fortune. It was 2 brothers owned it and it’s long gone — more’s the pity.

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