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Eventually I received the summons and took a two-day train journey back to Halifax. There I was told I was going to New York, of all places, to embark for home. The ship turned out to be the Queen Elizabeth, carrying thousands of GI’s. We were solo across the Atlantic, not in a convoy, as the QE was one of the fastest things afloat. Its very speed was its main protection; nothing else could keep up with it.

You were allowed to choose which kind of aeroplane you preferred to fly — fighters, bombers, or flying boats. I decided on flying boats and was sent up to Scotland to learn how to fly them. We were based near Dundee and I learned to fly these cumbersome Walruses.

Another funny story I remember, took place when we were flying the Walruses, because of their ability to fly extremely slowly. In high winds the wind would be travelling faster than the plane, so we used to terrify the air traffic controllers by coming in to land backwards!

We did air-sea rescue missions and, from time to time, went over to Norway on reconnaissance, taking aerial photographs of what the German fleet was doing. Whenever we saw German fighters coming, we nipped into a fiord and flew around inside it, where the fighters couldn’t get to us.

Then the Admiralty decided to scrap the flying boats. The Navy had realised that the RAF now had planes with more than just one engine, and wanted some of those for themselves. By now the Japanese were coming into the war and it was getting very hot indeed. So we went to Inverness to learn how to fly these monsters, these new creatures, and were to be shipped off somewhere as soon as we were qualified. We received our posting at very short notice, took a train to Liverpool and stayed in a hotel overnight. When we boarded the ship we learned that we were going to Colombo. By this time, Mountbatten was in charge of the Eastern Fleet. We had an interesting trip to Bombay, with a bit of ‘dancing’ with the enemy submarines in the Med, then through the Suez Canal and down the Red Sea. We went into camp at Bombay en route to Colombo.

One day I thought I’d walk off and have a look at Bombay. I was walking across open country when I met an Indian man coming in my direction. He stopped and greeted me politely. Then he said: ‘You’ll be going home in 12 months’ time. You’ll marry twice in your life, and you’ll live until you’re 89.’ And he went on his way. I compared this with the information I’d received before leaving Liverpool, to the effect that I was going to see action in the Far East where I would spend the rest of the war. I thought to myself: ‘You’ve got that wrong, mate.’

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Becky Barugh and Graham Brown of the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Shropshire CSV Action Desk on behalf of Russell Billson and has been added to the site with his permission. Mr Billson fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

See more of Russell's stories and photographs:

• 1) I was so fascinated that I enrolled on the spot!
• 2) I had the time of my life
• 4) A Jack-of-all-trades
• 5) A lucky escape
• 6) Extra careful
• 7) Badly needed at home
• 8) Shocking statistics
• Aircraft qualified to fly as first pilot
• Operational Airfields and Bases
• World War Two Key Dates

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