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I joined RAF in Dec 1937 when I was only 17 years old. I was too old for the boy’s service and not quite old enough for the men’s service, but joined the men anyway. Because I was under 18, everybody was older than me and when I went on parade in the morning, I was called out in front of the squad to have a cup of milk. The Air Ministry had laid down that all young men under the age of 18 had to be given a cup of milk every morning. I was embarrassed and the other lads thought it was funny!

I went through my training and was then assigned to Number 10 Squadron at Dishforth. When war broke out we were sent out on leaflet raids to drop propaganda messages to the Germany and other European countries, as by then France had fallen.
I was then posted to Number 23 Squadron at Ford in Sussex. We went on air raids all over the continent during this time.

More travelling was to come as after this I was posted to the Middle East. In late 1940 I ended up going out on the Windsor Castle troop ship to Bombay. From there we were then transported on HM Troopship Lancashire, it was a real old troop ship which had been used in 1890’s. We were very cramped during the voyage and we ended up at Basra. I was there for a while and then got posted to Habbaniya outside Baghdad. I was there quite a while and then another posting came to Middle East to Helwan outside of Cairo.

From Cairo I was posted up into the Western Desert where I joined Number 33 Squadron with 2 other RAF men. However, it was a few weeks before the 3 of us actually caught up with the Squadron, as each time we reached a base where they were reported to be they had moved on! I stayed with them right up until March 1944. We were up and down the desert with 33 Squadron until the eighth army moved into Algiers and the war was over in the desert in 1943. In March 1944 we were over in Mersa Matruch on the North African coast not far from Alexandria. We were there one day doing routine work and we were told just leave everything, all the supplies and equipment including the tents and the planes. We were moved out on lorries and ended up at Port Said. We didn’t know at the time but we had to leave quickly because they were planning D-day and wanted the troops back in England.

Back in England I was a mechanic on the spitfires and we flew over the continent. On D-Day we flew from morning to night over the continent and back to base in England to re-fuel and re-arm. We had to continue like this, as we couldn’t actually land until the army managed to free up an airfield. So when they did free up an airfield we landed in France on Gold Beach; the airfield was called Carpiquet. From there we went to Belgium and from there on Dec 7th 1944 we were sent home to Predanack in Cornwall, where they left the spitfires and got re-equipped with Tempests which were a much bigger fighting machine. Then we went straight back to Holland in the Tempests and continued on to Germany. I ended up in Gatow in Berlin and shortly after that the war was finished in Europe, but still continued in Japan.

I remember on VE day I was at Quackenbruck in Germany near to a town called Celle. News came through about the victory and everyone started to celebrate but we were still doing guard duties. That very night I was on duty so I couldn’t celebrate - I was walking around carrying my rifle and everyone else was drunk! I was finally demobbed and came home in 1946.

I made some good friends and we kept in touch for a while after the war but not now. I never felt frightened, just got on with it. At Habbinya base there was everything including swimming pools, theatres, churches, cinemas and every sport you can imagine. When you had a week’s leave there was plenty to do — so you didn’t, or rather couldn’t go anywhere else. Food was mostly corned beef and biscuits and to drink water and tea. They used to fly the water in from Cairo in 45 gallon barrels, our water butts were filled and from them we were allowed to fill our water bottle up every 2 days, which was only 2 and a half pints.

For a while just near Sidi Barrani at a place called the 2 B’s — Buk Buk - there was a Salvation Army place there right up in the desert on the coast road who made everybody welcome. So I’m always grateful to the Salvation Army.
Submitted by Janet Hughes at Seaham Library on behalf of Les Wilkinson

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