- Contributed by听
- salvage
- People in story:听
- salvage
- Location of story:听
- Ballyhalbert
- Article ID:听
- A2055683
- Contributed on:听
- 17 November 2003
A Wartime Salvage Story
During the war years, as an oficer in the Air Training Corps (ATC), I slept in a tent on the edge of the runway of an airstrip in Ballyhalbert.
Where is the airstrip now?
At night when planes were taking off, or landing, one expected that they would surely take the top off the tent. My companion in the tent, fearing the worst, would wrap himself in his blanket, so as not to hear the almighty roar of the engines as the plane skimmed overhead. I tried to reassure him that the planes were so well serviced, and piloted, that a crash was almost impossible. Of course he didn't believe me.
I thought it better, at that moment, not to mention that a year, or so, earlier a Wellington bomber HAD crashed in that area!
At that time I was a motor mechanic, and with a companion, Tommy from Donaghadee, we were sent to salvage a crashed Wellington bomber in the Ballyhalbert area. We were more accustomed to rescuing crashed cars. When we arrived on the crash site the Army had already placed a guard on the field, and had taken up residence nearby. They cooked meals for themselves, and us, on a blacksmith's furnace.
I can still recall the bayonet stuck in the tabletop, which we used to cut a slice off the big white loaf in the middle of the table, and then we stuck the bayonet back in the tabletop. With a layer of margarine and jam on the bread, washed down with a thick hot liquid, called tea, we felt at peace with the world.
On landing, the bomber had damaged a wing on the hedge. The fuel was leaking out of the ruptured tank in the wing, and the surrounding area was sodden with petrol. We donned our Wellingtons (what else!) and never having seen a plane before , climbed up into the Wellington bomber to satisfy our curiosity. Tha stench of petrol was overpowering, and we suddenly realised our danger. I squelched through the field to the guard at the gate, ordering him to make sure no one was allowed to light a cigarette. Today, "Health and Safety" would insist we had the Fire Brigade on hand.
We pumped out the remainder of the fuel from the damaged tanks into 20 gallon barrels, and then proceeded to divide the fuselage into 3 sections, and 2 wings, for transportation. After afew days, when we had completed our work, the RAF arrived with huge trucks, and we had the sections loaded for delivery to the docks in Belfast. There they were loaded on to the cross channel ferry, for a rebuild in England, and a return to active service.
As neither Tommy, or I, had ever salvaged a plane before, and like most people at that time hadn't flown in one, we were mighty relieved when the RAF loaded the sections, and the Sarge shouted "Good Job" as they moved off.
I wonder if there is anyone in that area, who remembers the incident, and could fill in the rest of the story.
I'd appreciate that
Salvage
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