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This is the story of my love affair with the
aeroplane, which began in earnest during the summer of 1940 when the
Battle of Britain was being fought out in the skies above southern
England. As most small boys at the time were looking into the skies, so
was I and it soon became clear that knowing friend from foe could be
essential for survival. Aircraft recognition was to be my abiding joy for
most of my life. New Milton was bombed with disastrous results on a sunny
August evening and at that time, my need for revenge crystallised into the
ambition to become a flier.
On through the blitz and spasmodic bombing raids, the gathering
strength of Britain`s air power, the building of new aerodromes and the
gradual turning of the tide, my fascination for all things aeronautical
grew. Each new shape that appeared in the skies was avidly discussed with
anyone prepared to listen, some of my older friends were joining the RAF
and on leaving school I worked in a factory making aero engine components.
As America became more heavily involved in the war in Europe, so the
numbers of American aircraft grew, many crewed by British and Allied
airmen. This activity reached a peak around D-day, 6th June 1944, when
thousands of aircraft were attacking the enemy round the clock, especially
in preparation for the invasion of France. The New Forest airfields were
opposite the invasion beaches and consequently played a major role in
every aspect of aerial warfare but mostly by softening up the enemy
defences. The few aircraft seen at any one time in earlier days were by
this time replaced by great clouds of American P47 Thunderbolts operating
from the advanced landing grounds in our locality, while British fighters
and bombers were equally employed.
In furtherance of my ambition, I joined the Air Training corps and on
Christmas Eve 1944, actually flew for the first time, going on to pilot an
American Commando transport whilst on a flight from the large aerodrome at
Beaulieu a few months later. At the age of sixteen, I was really living!
The war came to an end before I was able to join the RAF and by December
1946 when I eventually made it, no aircrew jobs were available, so or the
next two years I became a flight mechanic, training to service aircraft
for the first year and for the remainder, servicing the tow ropes of the
Horsa gliders which were operating from Netheravon on Salisbury plain
where I was stationed.
On demobilisation and a return to civilian life I soon regained my links
with the RAF by joining the Royal Observer Corps on a part time voluntary
basis and serving locally for the next thirteen years.
Times were changing and the aircraft now in evidence were mostly civil as
the RAF diminished in size.
Despite this the Farnborough Air Show was always of considerable interest
and in the fifties and sixties, a great period of advance and
experimentation, there were many new types of aircraft coming forward.
But as the years advanced and my family and employment
responsibilities increased, my contact with aeroplanes grew less and less.
Now, instead of the deafening excitement of earlier days, my flight
experience has become a boring necessity when travelling abroad except for
the odd occasion when I can scrounge a flip from a friend in a little
Cessna, look down over the New Forest and remember times and friends of
long ago. |
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