大象传媒

A Trip back in time.

I boarded the aircraft at Bristol. The day was quite nice for the time of year and the sun was shining.

In response to a letter that I had received from a Madam Francine McCaffery, I was returning to an area of France that held great memories for me. The place, Taingy, near Auxerre. There I hoped to meet Louis Moreau the son of a farmer that had assisted our escape from France during W.W.2

Mr Moreau had made many attempts to find the whereabouts of our crew. It would be the lack of spoken English in his area that made it difficult for him. He had witnessed the crash of our Lancaster J.B.649, one of two shot down on the night of 25/26 July 1944. He obtained the help of Madam F McCaffery whom through her experience of the Internet and the help of 166 Squadron Web site were to make his dream of a reunion come true.

John Cann the pilot, and myself and the rest of the crew had baled out safely. John and the mid upper gunner, Sgt Hugh Hill and I are now the only ones surviving the rigors of time. Unfortunately John and Hugh were not well enough to travel to France at that moment. So I was the only member of the crew of J.B.649 to do so.

The flight to Paris and a short train ride were soon over. I was travelling with my wife, daughter and friends, and as we alighted from the train we were greeted by a smiling Louis, and his daughter and grand daughter. Our first call was to the house of Mr and Mrs Soulie, the sister and brother-in-law of Louis.This visit helped to put us at our ease, and to try out our limited French. From there we were driven to Pourrain where we were treated to a meal at the house of the Mayor Mr Jourdan who was to be host for my stay. My friends after the meal going on to Lain, the village where Louis lived, staying at a delightful small hotel called Art鈥檓onie.

The following day we were taken to meet various members of the Maquis who were still alive. We were then shown the area of the crash site. I was keen to visit the farm where I first met Louie and his Father. The farm was still there but the old windmill that was such a memorable feature was now without it鈥檚 sails. A room that I had first entered was the same. There in the corner was the same old grandfather clock, also the same old-fashioned 鈥渨ireless鈥� and long table. The room was now no longer lived in, so had remained unchanged. After a visit to the ammunition drop zones we met other members of the Maquis, one now an elderly Lady who, during the war acted as a courier, riding her bike with information between the various Resistance camps.

Saturday dawned, a cold day. This was the day of the ceremony at the cemetery of Taingy. There we paid tribute to the seven young Airmen who had died in the second Lancaster of 166 Squadron shot down on that night. People were arriving from far afield to pay their respects. Even the snow and cold weather was no deterrent to them elderly as they were. After the ceremony, we were taken to the Town Hall for refreshments and to meet the local dignitaries. The day was then completed by a meal provided by the Maquis at a Restaurant, followed by a pottery demonstration by one of the members.

On our journey to a Vineyard on the Sunday, run by another member of the Maquis, the sun began to shine. After a few glasses of superb Chablis the sun seemed to shine even brighter and a grand day was had by all.

On the Monday, we paid a sad farewell to our Host鈥檚 family. A fond, goodbye, to Louis. With an everlasting admiration of that exceptional group of people, whose bravery during the war, helped us to return to 鈥� Blighty鈥� within forty-five days.

Ron Storey

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