大象传媒

The sun is shining through the diamond panes of the Wellinton, lighting up the wireless sets and my small table. We are on our way to a flying exhibition in Belgium and I feel comfortable, happy and relaxed with a feeling that all is well. I am flying as wireless operator with Skipper Peter Grant. I am to couple this responsibility with that for electrical and wireless maintenance for the whole Flight while on the ground.

It is the Spring of 1939 our C.O., Wing Commander Hugh Pugh Lloyd, had de颅livered a stern message to the squad颅ron. Prime Minister Chamberlain had been talking with Hitler about his intentions in Poland and Czechoslovakia. The papers referred to the possibility of war with a 鈥渇oreign power鈥� in the same breath that they criticised Hitler and his ambitious hench颅men. The C.O. had made the situation brutally clear:

鈥淲e will be at war with Germany within the year. Our squadron will be one of the first to attack and that will make us a prime target for reprisal raids. Bombs will be followed by paratroopers. All the personal arms we have will be is颅sued. One rifle and five rounds of ammunition to every sixth man. Bofar ack-ack guns around the airfield perimeter will defend us.
Until then we will work night and day to make sure that we are ready.
Sweat saves blood!鈥�

There had been a lot of sabre rattling among civilians. From where I stood this speech only added to the uneasiness in my stomach specially when the limited arms and ammunition had been backed up with an issue of broom handles fitted with small iron spikes. They called them pikes.

Soon after that, we had been told that the King of the Belgians was organising an international air show and competition for the main air forces of Europe. Our squadron had been selected to repre颅sent the R.A.F. Not a difficult choice bearing in mind how few squadrons we had. We are to fly in box formation in a shallow dive over Port Evere aerodrome near Brus颅sels. The Germans are to field a squadron of fighters. Other air forces are to be there too but the Germans and we are being referred to as the main protagonists.
Practising this difficult formation became a daily task. Pilots were being encouraged to fly closer and closer. The constant message ring颅ing in our ears had been

鈥淥ngar Red Three from Ongar Red Leader. Close up! Close up!鈥�

One day two wing tips had touched. The Wimpies had locked together and crashed, bursting into flames. We had all seen crashes before but never like this. There had been twelve charred, dead bodies.

It is customary to send only the very personal effects of a crash victim to his parents. The rest are auctioned off to his friends and colleagues to raise cash to be sent home instead.

The auc颅tions are always most sensitive and emotional. This time, items had been bought and put up for resale over and over again. A collar stud had fetched over twenty pounds, approximately equalling three month鈥檚 pay of a Leading Aircraftsman wireless operator. We had been together for a long time.

We are landing at Evere and we taxi to an area just beyond some small hangars. Some scruffy soldiers, apparently on guard, gaze at us without removing cigarettes drooping from their mouths.

Whilst we are making the usual checks and inspections, excite颅ment mounts as plans are made for an evening in Brussels. To颅morrow is to be a practice day and then, Sunday, we will be competing with the Luftwaffe.

We have not been abroad before and, as we stroll through the streets and boulevards, in our blue uniforms with brass buttons gleaming, we feel on top of the world. Time is too short for guided tours and alone we feel lost. A cafe attracts our atten颅tion. The tables are outside, prettily set with chintz ta颅ble-cloths. Three pretty waitresses are looking at us.

My grammar school French produces nothing but giggles. The smallest and prettiest one wants a photograph.

The beer is very pale and gassy. 鈥楪nats` pee鈥� is our verdict and we move on. Now that the ice has been broken we feel less inhibited. The locals in this bar are pressing us to drink more and more. We have been told to re颅main sober, to behave ourselves and, above all, to be fit to fly tomorrow.

The Belgians are saying,

鈥淭he War will start soon鈥�.

I do not want to hear this.

鈥淭omorrow you will beat them in the competition. Later you will fly here to save us from the Germans.鈥�

This anticipation of war and the hatred of the Germans makes me uneasy. I recognise the danger but I do not want to face up to it, yet. They keep saying that we are too young to remember the last war and that we will learn soon enough.

Back in the hotel other members of the Flight are noisily mo颅nopolising the bar. I look at Paddy and we silently agree we have had enough.

Today is perfect. We are in the centre of the box. We have to keep in close formation. The wing men edge in closer and closer. We are at slightly different heights, only a foot or so, which cannot be detected from the ground. We are at the bottom of our pass over the aerodrome and now up we go.

This is the best part. We leave the tournament area, open the forma颅tion and change into line astern ready to land.

In the crew room, everyone is talking at once. Have we made it? Were we close enough? Then someone is shouting:

鈥淐谤补蝉丑!鈥�

The Germans are airborne in their fighters and one has crashed in flames. My stomach tightens as I remember other crashes.

The rest of the day has passed. Back in the cafe of the three waitresses, we have gone straight to the bar. The locals greet us as old friends. Last night they were generous. Tonight they are crazy.

鈥淵ou won! The Germans lost! And they lost a fighter too. Very good!鈥�

I do not understand their hate and their callousness.

Back in the hotel we hang over the bar too long. I feel mixed up and a little drunk.

We have been airborne about twenty minutes. I am not in top form. Fortunately, Chiefie Gibson, who is flying with Leader, is responsible for communication with base. Within the Flight, communication is by the new telephony. To enable both the pilots and the wireless operators to operate the telephony sets we have installed mechanical remote control cables, similar to the Bowden cable brakes on modern bicycles. Soon after take-off my skipper shows some irritation and he takes over the operation of the telephony sets.

Everyone is quietly anticipating home.

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