Description
Physical description
1
crudely knitted woollen vest (50cm x 42cm) worn by donor while evading capture in the Netherlands at the end of the Second World War
Label
A crudely knitted woolen vest, made during the last winter of the Second World War, came to the Museum with the following information : 'In November 1944 as F/Lt. Adrian Davies RAFVR I was flying a Typhoon with 263 Squadron 2nd Tactical Air Force based at Antwerp. One afternoon in early November (the 4th or the 7th I think) we went out to cut a few railway lines and create a little havoc in north east Holland. After we had dropped our 500 lb bombs between the rails (that at least was the idea!) we decided to empty a few cannon shells into a train that was standing further along among some woods. Looking back now I realise that it must have been a flak trap because during my dive I was hit in the engine by a Bofors shell which left me pretty low down with a splendid tail of glycol and just enough speed to pull up and make a down-wind landing in a nearby polder. The thing which really annoyed me was the thoroughly ungentlemanly conduct of the German flak gunners in using plain rounds and not tracer; at least with tracer you knew that you were being shot at. It is curious how the mind works on such occasions.
I managed to set my Typhoon on fire (repressing a natural pleasure at the legal destruction of several thousand pounds with of Government property) and set off into the middle distance. More by luck than good management I evaded the German cordon and made contact with the underground at dusk.
This happened up at Kampen near Zwolle and after the usual alarms and excursions I ended up at a farm near Barneveld in Gelderland where I shared the top of a haystack with a Mosquito observer who was also enjoying a country holiday with wide views and plenty of fresh air.
Most evenings when the coast was clear we were able to climb down and spend an hour or so in the farmhouse eating gruel by the light of an acetylene lamp and trying to talk Dutch.
The farmer's wife had made the waistcoat out of raw sheep's wool picked off the hedges. She had tried to spin it in an amateur way and then knitted it into a waistcoat. I was very grateful for it because the only thing I had over my uniform was a pair of thin cotton German army overalls.
I had to leave that farm after a while so I set out on my travels and after the usual panics and cloak-and-dagger I managed to get through the Bies Bos and reached the Canadians at Moerdijk in early February 1945.'
History note
Taken from donor's letter.
In November 1944 as F/Lt. Adrian Godfrey Davies 136839 RAFVR I was flying a Typhoon with 263 Squadron 2nd Tactical Air Force based at Antwerp. One afternoon in early November (the 4th or the 7th I think) we went out to cut a few railway lines and create a little havoc in north east Holland. After we had dropped our 500 lb bombs between the rails (that at least was the idea!) we decided to empty a few cannon shells into a train that was standing further along among some woods.
Looking back now I realise that it must have been a flak trap because during my dive I was hit in the engine by a Bofors shell which left me pretty low down with a splendid tail of glycol and just enough speed to pull up and make a down-wind landing in a nearby polder.
The thing which really annoyed me was the thoroughly ungentlemanly conduct of the German flak gunners in using plain rounds and not tracer; at least with tracer you knew that you were being shot at. It is curious how the mind works on such occasions.
I managed to set my Typhoon on fire (repressing a natural pleasure at the legal destruction of several thousand pounds worth of Government property) and set off into the middle distance. More by luck than good management I evaded the German cordon and made contact with the underground at dusk.
This happened up at Kampen near Zwolle and after the usual alarms and excursions I ended up at a farm near Barneveld in Gelderland where I shared the top of a haystack with a Mosquito observer who was also enjoying a country holiday with wide views and plenty of fresh air.
Most evenings when the coast was clear we were able to climb down and spend an hour or so in the farmhouse eating gruel by the light of an acetylene lamp and trying to talk Dutch.
The farmer's wife had made the waistcoat out of raw sheep's wool picked off the hedges. She had tried to spin it in an amateur way and then knitted it into a waistcoat. I was very grateful for it because the only thing i had over my uniform was a pair of thin cotton German army overalls.
I had to leave that farm after a while so I set out on my travels and after the usual panics and cloak-and-dagger I managed to get through the Bies Bos and reached the Canadians at Moerdijk in early February 1945.