This remembrance season I find myself thinking - and wondering - about my late father and his time with the RAF.
He was a farmer's only son and thus not called up.
He volunteered to join towards the end of the war - of course no one knew it was coming to an end - partly because he didn't want to inherit the farm and joining was a means of escape. And of course there was a desire to "do his bit".
He was allocated to Coastal Command and trained to be a flight engineer on Sunderlands. (I recently came across some of his lecture notes which are fascinating).
He flew for many boring hours patrolling the empty grey sea, but was not involved in any action as such. Again, at the time he wasn't to know that was how it would be. He did recognize how lucky he had been.
I was born shortly after VE day.
But the war didn't end at VE day. His squadron was chosen to go to the Far East - I don't know exactly where - and was sent somewhere in Scotland to be trained. The technique that was being developed was to use a Sunderland to entice an enemy fighter onto its tail, dive steeply towards the sea to pull out at the last minute. The fighter, being much less manoeuvrable than the Sunderland, would plunge into the water. At least that was the theory!
My father came home for embarkation leave, and before long had to catch the train back to Scotland, fully expecting never to see his family again. I shudder to imagine what that parting was like.
But no sooner had he settled in his seat and the train started to move than someone ran alongside and jumped onboard panting and spluttering that the Japanese had surrendered. Dad fully believed that the atom bomb saved his life.
I am curious to know whether the gambit of leading a fighter down into the sea or the ground with a more manoeuvrable aircraft has any credibility. Does this story ring a bell with anyone? Was this ever tried? I rather suspect that whoever dreamed it up did not have to try it himself!
It is possible that it was a leg pull but I doubt it; I heard the story many times and although Dad was a great leg puller his jokes were short, sharp and original; the war was by no means a laughing matter.
He was a farmer's only son and thus not called up.
He volunteered to join towards the end of the war - of course no one knew it was coming to an end - partly because he didn't want to inherit the farm and joining was a means of escape. And of course there was a desire to "do his bit".
He was allocated to Coastal Command and trained to be a flight engineer on Sunderlands. (I recently came across some of his lecture notes which are fascinating).
He flew for many boring hours patrolling the empty grey sea, but was not involved in any action as such. Again, at the time he wasn't to know that was how it would be. He did recognize how lucky he had been.
I was born shortly after VE day.
But the war didn't end at VE day. His squadron was chosen to go to the Far East - I don't know exactly where - and was sent somewhere in Scotland to be trained. The technique that was being developed was to use a Sunderland to entice an enemy fighter onto its tail, dive steeply towards the sea to pull out at the last minute. The fighter, being much less manoeuvrable than the Sunderland, would plunge into the water. At least that was the theory!
My father came home for embarkation leave, and before long had to catch the train back to Scotland, fully expecting never to see his family again. I shudder to imagine what that parting was like.
But no sooner had he settled in his seat and the train started to move than someone ran alongside and jumped onboard panting and spluttering that the Japanese had surrendered. Dad fully believed that the atom bomb saved his life.
I am curious to know whether the gambit of leading a fighter down into the sea or the ground with a more manoeuvrable aircraft has any credibility. Does this story ring a bell with anyone? Was this ever tried? I rather suspect that whoever dreamed it up did not have to try it himself!
It is possible that it was a leg pull but I doubt it; I heard the story many times and although Dad was a great leg puller his jokes were short, sharp and original; the war was by no means a laughing matter.