- Contributed by听
- gee_efbe
- People in story:听
- George Barker
- Location of story:听
- Northern France
- Background to story:听
- Royal Air Force
- Article ID:听
- A1953669
- Contributed on:听
- 03 November 2003
There are no heroics in my tale!
In 1949 I was a regular corporal fitter-rigger in 26 (AC) Squadron at RAF Catterick in Yorkshire, equipped with 18 Lysanders. By July we were on call, ready to be sent wherever the army went, and were restricted to keep within 7 miles of the aerodrome. In October we were posted to Abbeville. The Squadron carried out surveillance and photographic duties during the so-called phoney war. We moved to Dieppe for a while and then, presumably in conjunction with the Army鈥檚 unsuccessful advance in Spring we found ourselves in a field near the Belgian border.
One day I had seen off an early morning sortie and was about to go back to my tent for a little more 鈥渒ip鈥, when several Lysanders from another squadron landed. Their airfield had been taken by the advancing Germans and casualties had been heavy. Our squadron took off to try to harrass the enemy with anti-personel bombs and .303 bullets and we bayonetted our petrol tins and started our retreat towards our rendezvous at Folkestone aerodrome.
Luckily the French authorities kept the 鈥淣鈥 roads clear for us and sent the poor refugees on slow roads, and the route of the enemy, although parallel to ours, did not converge with it. We were ground strafed rather inaccurately without any losses. We drove on to a ferry boat not long before the port was bombed and got to Folkestone just a few days after most of our Lysanders got there. We found them to be perforated all over with bullet holes. We were relieved of our small arms, being out of a combat area. My friend, who was a fitter-air gunner was shot down. He got back a week later after a rather hazardous journey, with some shrapnel in his back.
We patched up our aircraft and moved to West Malling. I was posted to No. 8 Gunnery School at Evanton in Ross-shire and stayed in Flying Training Command for almost all the rest of the war. That is the end of this story. The phoney war was over, but I wasn鈥檛 in the real one!
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