大象传媒

This story has been submitted by Wendy Young for the Peoples War Website on behalf of Derek Lewiston.and has been added to the site with his permission.He fully understands the site,s terms and conditions

I really had a beautiful War, I did everything my father said I shouldn't do, I wanted to go in the RAF even thouigh it was our junior service. My mother was very unwell at the time and so my father made me promise, hand on heart, that I wouldn't join the RAF to fly, I decided that as both sides of the family were navla, I'd go for the Navy. I had a medical, I waited and nothing happened, and after a while, I was told that they'd have me as a reserve, so I could complete my articles as a chartered accountant. This annoyed me, so I went into the local labour exchange where the manager was a very good friend of my father's, I asked his advice, and he said if I dropped him a line stating that I'd be wiling to go into any branch of the Navy he'd see what he could do. I received my papers within seven days after speaking to him, telling me that I was going to be put into the Fleet Air Arm, and was due to be trained as a mechanic. I didn't like the idea of being with aircraft and not flying, this was the initial training, and we learnt how to march properly.
Lieutenant Commander Merriam had flown during the 1914/18 wr and was one who had been in three different uniforms in as many days. One day I had notification to attend his office, he asked me if I'd every considered flying, I said yes and told him my story. He went through my schooling, what I was like with co-ordination, he gave me some funny balancing test, with his silver-top cane, which was happily no problem. At the end of all this, he said, "you should be recommended for flying training, but there's one thing that concerns me, you made a promise to your father about the RAF, but I don't think you really need to worry about breaking that promise, because after all, the Navy Fleet Air Arm is hardly the RAF".
I was very fortunate and made the flying training.
I was one of those selected to go to America. One had to fly with an open cockpit. Sometimes the weather would be bad, 10-15 degrees below zero, which meant when you did fly, you took it in turns with your instructor, one would warm up while the other was flying, it was very uncomfortable. We only had three hours flying training a month, where as the Americans had the priority, because we spoke out and complained the American C.O for some reason, stopped our shore leave, which meant that we couldn't contact our families and friends in Detroit, who were expecting us for evening parties as it was around Christmasand the New Year. Some decided that they weren't going to mis out, some chaps jumped the wires, which meant we had to dummy their bunks which we did very well. But the Americans were shoppers in this respect, we didn't have just one, but several bed checks during the night, as routine, when it was discovered that these bunks had been dummied. We were called out, and it was demanded of us that we should divulge the names of those who had dummied the bunks, but we all kept quiet. It was alleged that there had been a mutiny, and we were the mutineers. We were called before the C.O. one by one and were told we were eliminated, that's what my log book says, and we were sent to Canada to complete our training.
When it came to the wings parade, we found that instead of getting our commission with our wings, we were petty officer pilots.
We volunteered to fly Rocket Projectile Swordfish. They gave us a lovely story about a Swordfish, it had the hitting power of a Destroyer, but it didn't mention that you couldn't reload.
On our way home, somewhere in mid-ocean, the Admiralty and Air Ministry in their wisdom, decided that no commissioned officers would go on that course, and one way and another I thanked my lucky stars. One thing we didn't know, we were volunteering for was a North Atlantic run to Murmansk in Russia. So if we hadn't been implicated in an alleged mutiny and kicked out of America, I doubt if i'd be around.
During the War, I made a false landing with my Swordfish in southern Ireland. I was concerned because in the cockpit I had a special branch commander RN whos name I was never given. We had landed north of Dublin in a place called Gormanston. What I saw was a lovely grass airfield with hangers. I was yet to discover that it was a southern Irish Army Camp. It had been an airfield housing small blimps, during the 1914/18 war.
When the Swordfish came to a halt, a fellow came rushing up to me wearing what looked like an american uniform, and it transpired that he was a southern Irish Army Office. He got up onto the wing and said, "What are you, transport, or what?" I said, "Navy", he said, "Are you showing any rank?", I said "No". We were both wearing leather flying jackets and our caps were stowed away. He told us not to talk to any one, and we followed him into the mess.
We were very well treated, and held over night. I had to make contact with our representative in Dublin, he told me to keep my trap shut if or when I was released. I couldn't complete my log book entry and he said "Well, we don't want to upset the Germans". I thought we were at war with them, but apparantly, as southern Ireland was neutral, it was acceptable.
That nioght I had the experience of a lifetime, both the commander and myself were in the charge of the southern Ireland army, under open arrest, and we were treated to a wonderful party, with Irish Whisky and a Guinness chaser.
The following morning my first contact in the mess at breakfast was with their padre, who came up to me and said "you will be staying on won't you?", to which I replied "there's supposed to be a war on", he said "it's the first time we've had a good excuse to have a good party, for a long time, and it would be good to have another".
The next contact I had was with their M.O who offered to give me a cerifcate certifying the fact that I was unfit to fly. The Irish were very good, kind and friendly, in fact, I said to the chap who was in charge of me, "I was under the impression that you Irish were strictly neutral". In an impeccable english public school accent, he said to me words that could only come through the mouth of an Irsishman, "Well, surely doesn't it rather depend to whom you are neutral?". After that I was permitted to leave.
I was on a station flight called Naval Requirements Unit. At a later date I was due for a day off, rather late on the previous day I was informed that I would be taking Lieutenant Commander Gick (a man who had been in a film about the battle of the atlantic) to Belfast.
He came in the middle of my breakfast, and asked if I could hurry because he thought we would have a problem meeting Vindex (after conversion known as the woolworths carrier). We arrived at Blelfast and the carrier had left and I told him I couldn't see her. "Its alright sub" he said, "go north, she should be off the north coast". Further on I looked down and saw this small thing in the water, as we were approaching he said "by the way sub, how many deck landings have you done?" "Actually Sir, this will be my first, but you don't need to worry, I've done pleanty of dummy decks". he said "Oh god, and I have to pick on you, and this is the first time I have ever flown behind anyone".
I knew the score with deck landings and I did a perfect landing. I picked up the first wire and Gick unloaded, at the same time shouting at me instructions about what I should and shouldn't be doing. I think he was afraid I would forget the correct procedure and end up pranging into the island.

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