大象传媒

I am too young to remember (much of) the war - just a few memories of a dream, things my father, Arnold Webb, told me. He was in Lincolnshire building aerodromes. I recall him speaking of East Kirkby, that he shared a mess with W/C Guy Gibson - presumably The Petwood Hotel - which suggests he worked on more than East Kirkby. He was billeted in Old Bollingbroke. I remember after the war going to stay there for a weekend. And the smell of the stuffed chine as we walked into the kitchen. I thought it was where he had stayed but now through some contacts find it was The Old Hall, home of the Chatterton family, and for the Methodist Church Anniversary.

My interest in who he knew, what he did, what other airfields he worked on flows largely from my interest in flying since I got a private pilot's licence (PPL) But in trying to find information I have discovered how little is known or said of the 'builders etc' Dad was a qualified Quantity Surveyor in his grand father's firm possibly sub-contracted to Laings.

I would love to land my plane on one of his runways sometime.

Much is, now, being learnt of eg the Land Army but little of those who built (and re-built) runways, hangars, disbursal areas etc etc. Who were they, what did they do etc?

What little I have learnt, and the few I have met or corresponded with indicate a wealth of valuable information. Can this sector be studied, high lit or otherwise? There seem to be no records, just the chance of finding odd persons here or there - it could be so much more.

The first time I went to East Kirkby one of the volunteer helpers there had known him well. These encounters are quite a 'spiritual' experience. So any information/contact would be wonderful - whether from those who knew him or others who were just there at the same time.

A yarn; dad was teatotal so drank ginger beer. Quite heavy. Once at the end of the evening where each had 'bought a round' he had a line of pints on the bar - tough job downing them. Another; after a boisterous evening out he and mates got 'home' to a mock fight. To fend them off he got the toilet roll, held an end and tossed it down the stairs. He was met in the morning by the land lady with it dried and draped over her arms saying: 'Now roll it up...!' Hopefully all in harmless good fun.

I know too from those I have met/communicated with that he also got well involved with the local Church/s hence returning after the war to speak at the anniversary.

A fantastic sence of community beyond the front line activists.

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