大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Sarah Harding of Kirklees Libraries on behalf of Mr. Smithson and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

Part 6

AS A GLIDER PILOT 10TH DECEMBER 1943 TO THE END OF OUR ACTION ON "D-DAY"

Arrived at Fargo camp on Salisbury Plain around dinnertime according to my diary, although that is only an entry from memory. Fargo is where the serious volunteers are weeded out from those only trying to get out of their own units. So the first few days are made very unpleasant. First I had to change my blanco from dark green to very light green, not an easy task. Next, I had to scrape my brasses clean of dark green paint and highly polish them, another time consuming job. Our uniforms had then to be pressed and smartened up as best as we could. That took most of us the rest of the day and most of the night. We did all this because, on de-bussing on arrival, one of the men without thinking, cleared his throat and made a very slight spit on the ground. [I stress a very slight spit]. He was straight away carted of to the guardroom, so we knew what to expect. In the morning he was on a charge and decided he did not want to become a glider pilot. He was then returned to his unit and the charge was dropped.

On the first parade, I was lucky; I was third on the front rank. When the Officer started to inspect us, the second man was not up to scratch. The officer looked along the row saw that I was a Corporal and told me to take the man to the guardroom, which I did and then stayed there until the parade was over. I am sure that my turnout was no better than his. That day, about a third of the men asked to be returned to unit. They all thought they were escaping from that sort of bull.

We had that kind of parade every morning and one or two others dropped out. One of the group beat the system. He realised that, on parade, no roll call was called, so he only attended the classes held after the first parade of the day. It was never noticed and later he passed out as a glider pilot. We had lessons, during the rest of the day on aspects of flying such as map reading and the Morse code, we also had many periods of drill along with battle courses, when a lot of smoke was used. My respirator was not working well and I spent the rest of the day .One chap had to go to hospital.

Fortunately we were here only ten days and then found out who were going to Booker for the E.F.T.S. course of which I was one. Out of the twenty of us on the course only eight were going directly on the next course. I was very pleased and hoping there would not be so much bull at Booker. Before starting off, one of the party was sent back and would have to wait for the next course. Why I never knew! We were glad to get away. [Later we did not think it too bad and often talked about it with almost pleasant memories].

At Booker Airfield our billets were easily the best I have ever been in. Civilian cleaners looked after them and all we had to do was to lay out our kit on our beds.

First day and lectures from the Lieutenant Colonel and Wing Commander followed a kit check. We now had flying kit, ready for the serious business of flying. Spent the last days of 1943 mainly on guard duty, one of which I did at Denham, another small airfield nearby. At one time there were film studios there.

Had my first flight in an aeroplane, a Tiger Moth. The instructor took off and got me acclimatised and then let me take over. Quite different to what I had imagined. One had to use so little effort to move the control stick, that really it was not moved but eased from one position in the direction required. The feet on the rudder pedals needed the same action. After a few days, flying in the air was not too difficult. Taking off also became easier after some trial attempts and confidence given by the Instructor. Landing was not easy, as control of the speed and height of the Tiger at the same time required effort and practice. Once one got the idea of judging the height from the horizon and the ability to feel the plane on to the ground things got more enjoyable and flying became the fun one always thought it would be. Finally came the big day entirely without warning. I was surprised when the Chief Flying Instructor came and said that he was taking me up for my eight-hour test. I took off and did all the flying myself. On touching down he got out and told me to stay in and take her for a circuit and landing on my own. No time for any doubts! I was I the air before I had time to think and in no time at all I was rolling in to land. I had made my first solo. I was then brought down to earth as the Instructors, after congratulating me; told me I could now start learning to fly. [Other Instructors came along to see any trainee pilots taking their first solo]

It now became almost daily routine to fly circuits and bumps, gradually making more difficult manoeuvres. After about 10 hours, I had my first night flight. At first this was very strange, as everything was so different but again after a number of flights one got used to it. On reaching 11 hours and foolishly beginning to think I could fly, I learnt that one could have too much confidence. I was told to do a few solo circuits and bumps and so I started off into the air with ease, never lost sight of the airfield and came into land. At the last minute another Tiger took off in front of me and as instructed I pushed the throttle forward and went round for a second circuit and came round to land again. This time I bounced and had to rise again to do another circuit. Now I was not too happy. Third time trying to land I bumped too much again and so round once more. I was now beginning to think that I was going to stay in the air for ever. This time all was well and I made a good landing. Even so my confidence was shaken and it took a few days to get back the feeling that I might be able to fly properly some day.

We were obviously wanted in the regiment because when we had finished 16 hours flying and had made our solo flight, we were moved to Shobdon not far from Leominster in Shropshire. The airfield is still in use. Here we began our first glider training. I had an acclimatisation flight in the Hotspur. This glider was intended for operational service but at this time was not considered large enough and was used for training. From the first, I enjoyed flying it. It could carry about 10 men but when I flew it there was only the instructor and myself. The instructor in the back seat. To begin with we did a few circuits and bumps and then more adventurous things. The first time I stalled in the Hotspur it was quite frightening, much more than in the Tiger. I followed the instructor's orders and raised the nose until we had very little airspeed. I thought we were going up forever, when suddenly the end of the world occurred, at least it seemed like it! I watched the A.S.I. and somewhere around 35 A.S. we dropped out of the sky. I pushed the stick forward and then eased back and we slowly flattened out and I breathed more easily. Next was to solo. After this I started to enjoy most of the flying that we did. In free flight, after I had pulled off from the tug [A Miles Master] it was almost like riding a motor cycle. One could swing with the glider. Near the village of Shobdon was a wood and when flying over it, with care, one could nearly hover. The currents of air were strong and the glider almost stopped and only slowly eased downwards with a kind of rocking motion. My mate at the time [Since deceased] Frank Basnett, had an interesting experience. On one of his flights he pulled off too soon from the Master and I watched him trying to lift the glider over the railway line that ran alongside the airfield. He had not enough distance and so had to land in the field. Much laughter afterwards!

Night flying! As usual, strange at first. My first order from my instructor was that on touchdown I was to give it full left rudder. My first circuit and I tentatively pushed my left foot forward on touching down, and we slightly went left. This did not please him and whilst waiting for the tractor [David Brown's] to pull us back to the start, he told me again to give it more left rudder. The third time he was starting to get annoyed and said he did not want to be on the airfield all night and explained that the tractor drivers always fetched the gliders nearest to the starting position first. Therefore, the next circuit, as soon as we touched the ground, I really stood on the left rudder bar. We swung almost at right angles and careered side ways down the airfield. I expected the wing to drop at any time and crumple but it didn't. The undercarriage shook but remarkably no tyres burst and we came to a stop. The Instructor complimented me and we were soon ready to continue. I did the same for the remaining circuits and we had a fairly early night. The undercarriage of the Hotspur is very wide and very strong, which probably accounts for the instructor's confidence.

There was one sad affair during my stay. I was again on night flying and on our second circuit, when the instructor noticed that the combination that had taken off in front of us was loosing height. I took more notice of it and realised that the Master was not climbing, as it should have been doing. The Master then veered to the right and dropped more quickly. The Glider pulled off. The Master hit the ground and soon burst into flames. The Glider landed easily close by, helped by the light from the burning Master. At the time we thought that no one had been killed but only injured. Reading the G.P.R.A.magazine a year or so ago I read in a letter to the magazine that the pilot and a passenger [not usual] were both killed. There was danger even in what we thought were safe pursuits.

At Shobdon I flew another RAF aircraft for the first time. It was the Miles Magister. In this plane I was instructed in elementary navigation. After a few flights, the Instructor piloted for about half an hour. I wondered what we were going to do, when he flew us round a hill, [I think one of the Brecon Beacons] and then told me to take over and fly us back to the airfield. I did and after landing he complimented me on returning directly on a reciprocal bearing. I did not enlighten him on that; I had only a slight knowledge of what a reciprocal was. I had seen the railway line just after having taken over and as it ran alongside the airfield there was not much difficulty in finding the way back.

Before I leave Shobdon I must record another happening that occurred there. I had been put on ground duty as extra ground staff and was armed with an Aldiss lamp, in this case with a red light only and I had to use it to point at anything that needed a warning. I thought I should have nothing to do except watch gliders and tugs take off and land. I was mistaken. After about an hour or so, I saw, coming in from the other side of the railway line, a Master, obviously preparing to land. It was about half a mile away and I became interested to see what kind of landing he was going to make. The Pilot seemed to be doing every thing correctly and I thought he must be well experienced, when I realised that his undercarriage was not down. I pointed the lamp at the Master and kept it on the cockpit as well as I could but the plane continued flying past me at 30 feet or so and as it passed I could hear the warning buzzer going, something was wrong. He touched down about 30 yards from me and made a beautiful belly landing. The pilot jumped out quickly in case it burst into flames but it did not and all was well. The underneath of the wings were torn off, along with part of the back of the fuselage. The prop was bent but little else. Talking with the pilot before he reported to the office, he explained that he had seen my light on him but that there was little he could do. His undercarriage had jammed some time before when he tried to land. Ground control had told him to fly around and get rid of most of his petrol and then come in again. He had done so and the only fault was a spoiled aircraft.

I was now more confidant in the air and was really enjoying flying around the village and airfield but, as usual, when enjoying something, it seems as if the powers that be can not rest until they have stepped in and spoiled the fun. This was the case now. I had finished the conversion course to gliders and was posted to Leicester East, an airfield about 3/4 mile from the city of Leicester. Here I joined 10 Flight G Squadron and was in that flight until I was taken prisoner of war.

Leicester East, a few days messing around, we were waiting to be organised. I had been on guard duty and was waiting for orders when I was told to report to an Officer in a Stirling waiting on the runway. I learned that we were to go to Barham [?] in Norfolk to fetch some Horsa gliders and that I was to operate as a timekeeper there for the take off of the tugs and gliders. My first time in a large aircraft! It was very large inside and I did not see much of the trip. I returned in the last glider piloted by Lt. Telfer. On the return flight he said he would show me the stall.

He asked the tug pilot to take us up to around 6000 feet and then he cast off. We were close to Leicester East. I was standing in the door opening, between the two pilots and had a brilliant view of the countryside, easily the best position of any plane that I know of. When the lieutenant said that he was going to stall I asked if I had to go and belt myself to a seat in the back. Visions of the stall in the Hotspur floated before my eyes and I was preparing to drop out of the skies. I was told that I was OK where I was. I watched the A.S.I. as we came to the stall and the speed dropped away to about 35/40 AS. As we stalled, the Horsa seemed to shake itself and as the pilot pushed the nose down, we quickly resumed normal flight. We flew round whilst loosing height and came in to a perfect flapless landing. The most pleasant stall yet.

Our stay at Leicester East was soon over and the Squadron moved to Fairford in Gloucestershire. I was the 2nd pilot and was able to get in a lot of practice. An entry in my diary shows the date as the 25th March and that we had a load of RN and RAF personnel. The entry goes on to compare flying a Horsa to flying a Hotspur. The Horsa being a much larger aircraft is heavier to fly. The flaps are much larger and the angle of descent can be much steeper. We crossed the perimeter track at a 1000 feet and still touched down before halfway along the runway and stopped very quickly, using the brakes. I remember being at Leicester East and seeing a Horsa coming in to land for the first time and noticing how steep the angle of descent was. I thought it would never pull out before hitting the ground.

My first pilot is named Arthur Newton but is always referred to as Spinner. Whilst training at his E.F.T.S. and on his solo effort at a stall he went into a spin and had difficulty in getting out of it. Hence the nickname "Spinner". He was a good pilot and helped me a lot. From now on most of my flying was -done with him. He was from near Stockport, I think it was Heaton Chapel. I visited him once after the war, but have not seen him since. He never joined the Association and therefore I lost track of him. [Found and visited 1999.]

Had various training flights and also a number of ground exercises with plenty of sports and PE. I often thought that we may have been short of tugs as we all wanted to do more flying. Towards the end of April I was on a night flying exercise with a pilot called Spelman and I found it most enjoyable as I was able to get a lot of flying time in. The towns were easily identified even though there was a blackout. We had a slight mishap on landing. I had not enough flying time in for landing at night, so Spelman was piloting. The landing run in was nearly ended when we touched another Horsa's wing tip with ours. Not much damage but Spelman was very annoyed as it was the first time he had had to report any damage at all [Maidenhead, Aldershot, Winchester and even Booker flown over.]

End of March and the Squadron had a talk from the C.G.P. Col. Catterton. This time he was not so strong on the role we should have to play after landing. This entry in the diary must mean that previously he must have stressed our part as infantry. We had many lectures by the Officers on the different aspects of our job. At about this time I saw our RSM. He was always referred to as "Tojo" and we rarely came in contact with him. This is born out by the fact I never knew his proper name. I may remember things about him later.

Sometimes when I read the diary, I think to myself that I hope no one else ever reads it as often seems as if I am on holiday. There are many references to swimming - going into various towns, going to the cinema, having a drink and doing many activities that are really very good fun. However we did take flying very seriously and some of the schemes that we went on were not always easy. The diary does remark that we had many training flights but not all are remarkable. Although some revive memories and some are more note worthy than others. One night flying exercise was a bit dicey. We had a late start and flew in formation towards Birmingham and then turned south and headed for Netheravon, an airfield on Salisbury Plain. It was laid out in two halves and the 40 + gliders had to land in one half We all had landing lights, but as we were two from the last it looked as if there was no room left for us to put down on. How we managed I still do not know, but Spinner did and we were OK. Unfortunately one of the kytes behind us could not make it and landed in the road outside the airfield. The pilot broke his nose but was not long out of action.

Went retrieving [that is, going to fly gliders back to Fairford, from places where they had landed after an exercise, i.e. if it can be done.] I flew back behind a Whitley for the first time and found it not comparable to being behind a Stirling. The air speed is slow and the glider is all over the place like a kite on the end of a string [Whitley Air Speed -110, Stirling AS - 160 sometimes faster.]

Had now become friendly with Frank Basnett, a married man who had been in the RA [AA] and at one time stationed in East Anglia. I asked him why he joined the G.P.R. Like many soldiers he had become bored and just wanted a change. I told him he must be mad. His chances of a safe billet in the AA was much better than in the G.P.R, especially as we now knew that we were sure to be in some part of the invasion, though no specific role had as yet been given us. He was an early member of the G.P.RA and later whilst teaching in an approved school in Exeter I visited him in a similar school in Shropshire. [In those days I did a fair amount of motor cycling.] Sadly he died some six years ago.

It was now May and we were told more about the invasion. Sand models were made of the area in France where we were to land. Our landing zone was to be close to a village called Coleville-Sur-Orne. We got to know the area backwards from the sand model and from maps which had now been issued. We had non-flying exercises to give us some idea as to what to do after the landing. Excitement was beginning to mount and most of Southern England looked like an ammunition depot. Guns, tanks, and various types of carriers both British and American were all over the area. Bombs and other supplies were stacked along many of the road sides.

We had talks from Officers about loads and aspects of flying such as what to do in case of ditching in the channel or not landing on the landing zone and other hazards. On one flying exercise we landed with 120 Gliders on one half of the airfield at Netheravon. Spinner and myself were 2 gliders from the last and had difficulty getting down. As usual the space left for us, near the control tower, was much too small and we ended up only about 30 yards from it. We found out later that the King was in the control tower when we came down and that along with others, he crouched down, as it seemed that we might hit the building. Whilst we were waiting to be picked up by a truck after the landing, a Brigadier came up to us and said that he was on a Senior Officer's course at Warminster and that observing our exercise was part of the course. He was very interested in finding out about our gliders, what they could carry and how far. We told him how far we had travelled on this exercise and the load we could have carried if laden, as well as the time taken. It worked out at 400 miles with 3000 men and their equipment in just under 4 hours He expressed terrific surprise and said the best he could have done in the past was around three days. We did say to him that loading time, particularly if 6 pounder anti-tank guns were included, would make the time longer.

On another exercise at Netheravon we again landed on one half of the airfield and a battalion of Paratroopers dropped on the other half. This time the King and Queen along with the two Princesses were watching, Princess Margaret being in the uniform of the Women's Army Auxiliary Corps. The Parade afterwards could easily have turned into a farce as many of the men were not aware that a parade was expected later. Most of us were stretched out on the ground alongside the main runway relaxing and telling the usual tales about the flight. All at once someone shouted out "The King's here." The fastest parade ever. One minute flat and the best parade of Glider Pilots ever. We had no kit to worry about, so it was easy. The King was very brown. We thought he must be made up. The Princesses were really enjoying what, I suppose to them, was almost a party. Browning the Chief Glider Pilot was with them. Like all parades, the higher in rank the senior officer, the easier the parade. Your own Colonel! If things are not correct there's hell to pay and that means extra work for someone.

Noted from the diary that when not flying I was often driving for the M.T. section. I got to know the Cotswolds very well and still find them very interesting although somewhat marred by the industrial and tourist traffic which is on all roads to-day. The latter is very heavy as the area is so very close to the Midlands and yet so peaceful and calm. The buildings are all part of the scenery. Arlington Row at Bibury still brings pictures to my mind.

I did not fly behind Whitleys often [only about 3 times I think.] for which I was very pleased. They were very slow, compared to the Stirling, and the Horsa floated about a lot. At this time we had a number of strange orders. We had to do some small ground exercises when we were moved in sections by truck for only short distances. Two to three miles or so and then left to take cover. After an hour or two we walked back to the airfield. I now think that these exercises were for the Officer's benefit and had something to do with the ground situation in France after landing.

We were given advice about making a will, which most of us did. Quite a lot of hilarity but one of the points I learned was that anyone can make a will and provided that two independent people sign it it is valid. This will was separate from the one in our pay books and was kept by the War Office I do not know if any other units did the same.

At this time, the end of May, Fairford, our airfield was often used for dropping people into France. I had a talk with a Frenchman who was waiting to go. He was looking forward to going as he had been in England since Dunkirk. I thought "better my job than his" but one never knows. He would not tell me where he was to be dropped.

Friday 26th May. Serious news! We were confined to camp [the airfield]. This restriction was lifted on the 28th. What it was all about no one knew, although we expected this would happen when the invasion was near to starting. Was it near now? Confined again on Friday 2nd.June and this time we knew it was serious. Briefing now took place. More "gen" on the landing zones and we were given the gathering point for the Glider Pilots after landing. More about loading but no information about individual glider loads. Gliders can not stay on the ground for long when fully laden, as the weight will damage it. Monday we had a short church service in the afternoon which turned out to be very emotional. The RAF Chaplain took it. The start of the invasion should have been today but the weather reports were not good and we go to-morrow.

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