大象传媒

On November 29 1944 Squadron 2750 Royal Air Force Regiment landed at the quayside of a battered Ostend. Our commanding officer, Squadron Leader Warburton, was a fine man and a good leader.
We were soon on our way, and by nightfall arrived in Mons where we spent two nights in some large barracks with paintings on the walls of Hitler and the German army. In the attic were traces where hostages had been shot.

We moved on, spent a night at Reims and arrived at our first duty spot, Menil La Horgne and Commercy. Our reason for being there was to guard the radar and radio sites; we knew what an important job we were doing. The weather was very bad, deep snow, and we were in the hills, high up. Our field oven was a forty-gallon oil drum, fuelled by sump oil and water. This proved very useful for heating up meals and making drinks from snow.

On the 9 January 1945 our flight was sent to Menil La Horgne. A Lancaster bomber had crashed in the night. To reach the crash site we had to go through or round fields, deep in two to three feet of snow. The Lancaster had crashed on the edge of a forest. Five dead airmen were still inside and two others had survived. The medical people removed the dead airmen the next day. Our flight was relieved by another one, and we went back to Commercy. I must say we never knew about, or saw any members of, 2865 or 2770 Squadrons as we either followed them or they followed us.

On the 9 February 1945 we left Commercy to take up duties at Mutzig with the radar units. We were now twenty-five miles away from the German border, and at night could see the gun flashes.

One day Ron Travers and I went into the Maginot Line. I have never seen anything like it, with its big guns in concrete emplacements, a large moat in the front, underground concrete passageways, and tons of shells and ammunition of all sorts.

Back to Commercy for the night and on to Berg-Lile near Brussels to guard a large bomb dump. Come April, we were off again, this time to Bruil. We had arrived in Germany and VE Day wasn't far away. Everyone was pleased to think it would soon be all over and we would be going on leave for good.

Our next move was to Bonn, were we saw all the blown up bridges and guns left behind by the German forces. With the war over we seemed to be having an easier time, but we still had guards to do on our Billets and M.T.

Another move was on, this time to a town called Wulfrath and, of course, the Frat Ban. It didn't really work, did it?

By now 1945 was slipping away and on 19 August we were on the move yet again. This time to take up duties on a captured German airfield at Ackmer. Not much there - only mud and rain - but what had to be done was done.

In November we were on our last move to a town called Beckum, near Dortmund. As usual our commanding officer had found us good billets in a large school. Our duties here were different to what we had been doing in the past. We had to do town patrols to enforce the 22:00 to 07:00 curfew, which had been ordered. Stan Wrighton and myself always did our two hours together. Sometimes we hid in shop doorways, looking and listening for anyone who dared to venture out, but we had very little trouble.

We were soon to see the end of 1945 and carried on with our town patrols in 1946. In August 1946 Stan Wrighton, myself and two others on a forty-eight-hour pass visited the Mohne Dam, and had to praise the brave attack by the Dam Buster Squadrons. I have a photograph (which cost twenty cigarettes) of the dam being rebuilt.

The months went by. Soon notices were on our notice boards about demob for certain members of our Squadron. In June we were seeing our comrades going home, one or two at a time. Others came in to keep the Squadron at full strength. Soon it would be my turn, October in fact, along with two other of my friends. We were taken to a big demob centre in Munster. We entered the doorway of a big hall and there a band was playing 'Now is the Hour'. What a send off.

Soon I was aboard ship at the port of Wilhelmshaven, across the North Sea to England, and home to my wife and young son. I felt truly thankful to Squadron Leader Warburton, who had brought us all safely through, and we had done a good job helping bringing the war to an end.

Life went on in civvy street - most things still on ration. By 1947 we had a daughter, life was complete. I often thought of the friends I had made during the war years. Forty years went by and one Saturday afternoon there was a knock on the door and there stood Ron Travers and Ray York. I still haven't got over the shock.

We had a week to talk over old times, even a report of our get-together in the local press. We decided we would go all out to find other friends of our Squadron, but first I had to know how they found me. Ray York and his wife met an elderley lady while having a drink in a club. He said to the lady, 'You don't come from these parts?'
She said, 'No, I used to live near the New Forest.'
Ray found out more and discovered that she knew Ron Travers and his family. Soon Ray and Ron were in touch. Ray thought to say thanks to this elderley lady and decided he would take her a bunch of flowers. Sadly, she had been rushed to hospital that night. Ray took the flowers to the hospital only to find she had died in the night. Without that lady we may have never got together, but I feel it was meant to be this way.

While at Commercy, Ron and I got all our flight to sign a French Banknote with names, towns and counties. This was now going to help us find more of our old commrades. Ron found Russell Large, founder member of the Bury St Edmunds branch, also Vic Edwards of Sittingbourne, and his wife Joan. Ray found Les Deacon our DR. I had pages on the Teletext and that is how I found Stan Wrighton of Bridport, after his daughter saw it. Next was Jack Blitz of Barking - he was our cook. Stan knew that Claud Warners home was Luton. At the Library I looked in the Bridgeport phonebook and found Bill Trout, who I'd served with ever since I joined up. As soon as I spoke to him on the phone he said, 'I'd know that voice anywhere!' The knew the next person I wanted to find would be a problem. His name was C. Smith and he lived in Helston, Cornwall. In the phonebook for that area there where 123 of them!! I rang several of them with no success, so I wrote to six people in a twenty-mile radius of Falmouth. I recieved some response but no one could help me.

One lady said she liked what I was trying to do and forwarded my letter to Radio Cornwall who broadcasted my letter. Cyril Smith was in an old peoples' home in Falmouth, but was known as Tim. The housekeeper heard my message for him and rang me that night. I couldn't believe my luck. I now send that lady who contacted Radio Cornwall a Christmas card every year. Vic and Joan Edwards were able to contact another old commrade, Corporal Les Clunn of Sittingbourne. We have all met several times on various occasions and we had an annual get-together at Wickstead Park, Kettering, Northants for some of us.

Sadly, we have lost three of our comrades: Vic Edwards, Russell Large and Ray York. To end my story we are grateful to all in the RAF Regiment Comrades Association for what they do for us all.
Our best wishes to you all.

Cpl. C. Stolworthy
ex 2750 Squadron
Caister on Sea
Norfolk.
care of MMNNM@tesco.net
Sadly Bill Trout passed away recently. x

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