Voices of Duxford

“Eventually we got back into formation and went back to our base and landed. And when we were making out our reports, the leader of the formation asked, “Who was on the outside left in the rear of the formation?”, and I said, “I was.” And he said, “Did you see that Hun on your tail?” And I said, “No.” And he said, “Well, there was one, and you would have been cold meat if I hadn’t turned and chased him off.” So, I turned to my observer and said, “What, did you see that Hun?” and he said, “No”, and I said, “Why?” And he said, “I was being sick in my cockpit.” (chuckle) I said, “You report ill.” And I never flew with him again.”

“Flying was new and very romantic, it helped recruiting and it was not warlike, it was pretty and, you know, we did it with smoke. The first year at Duxford I had five Bulldogs with smoke, where we did break. We’d tie lover’s knots in the sky and all this sort of thing, and loop with smoke. Horrid it was too, it used to come back in the cockpit and if you had red smoke, you came down absolutely like a Red Indian or blue as if you were about to die or dead white, so it had its disadvantages. But that was the, that must have been 35 we did smoke and 1936 we did tie it together.”

“I was younger and less frightened I think, probably in the Battle of France. It was exhilarating, I’ve got to say that it was. Although I think everybody found that. And flying in and out of the cloud over Dunkirk, you never knew whether you were going to see a Messerschmitt or a Junkers or another Spitfire or a Hurricane or even a Defiant you might have seen.”

“The squadrons would come back from the battle skies of southern England, and they were battle weary, tired, exhausted. And more often than not there were empty seats in the mess, and we would remember who had occupied them at the previous meal, and it was, it was sometimes very said but life had to go on, we had to carry on.”

“Oh, we did have some funny things because. I don’t know whether I’m allowed to say this but when they would line you up for a FFOI ‘Free from an Infection Inspection’, you never knew when you were going to get one of those. And they lined us up along the hangar door on a lovely summer’s day with our trousers down and out shirts up. And the doctors come along with the pencil and looking, lifting and looking and the squadron with a flight of WAAFS came around the corner with the corporal in charge and they just fell about laughing, they were in hysterics to see us all standing there like that, they were in hysterics. And the corporal was shouting trying to get them in line, but it was useless! (chuckling).”

“And we had a goat as a mascot and the goat spent his time eating cigarettes and sometimes eating papers which were regarded as rather more valuable. The goat itself came from a pub near Biggin Hill called The Jail which had a Belgian landlady. I believe that she gave the boat, the goat as a kid, if that’s what you call a young goat, to Alterman, one of the Belgian pilots and that’s where the goat came from. But he was gradually taken over as the squadron mascot and had rings painted on his horns to rank, which needless to say was advanced, I think he eventually became and Air Commodore.”

“Well, we suspected the evening before. There was a lot of activity and of course the base was closed, and no one could go anywhere and then the aircraft were being painted with the, what we eventually called the invasion stripes. So, and then there were rumours that tomorrow is going to be the good day. Well, you placed little credence because you thought that it was strictly a rumour and you could hear that, well, people used to ask, “When is, when are we going to fly the big mission?”, and so forth. That was well before D-Day. So, until we saw the striping on the aircraft, we would have dismissed any rumour to that effect.”  

“I was north of London and there in front of me was a Russian aircraft. And it was the Soviets had taken a bomber and made it into a transport aeroplane with limited capability and it was on a visit which I didn’t know about. But there I was, and I was like, “Christ, World War Three, here we go.” So, I went in a bit closer and did a quarter attack and got some film and then pulled away and went home. You pop out of a cloud and there what you’ve been waiting for all your whole life is just asking to me shot down. I didn’t think my guns were loaded anyway at the time so they wouldn’t have done anything.”

“When the war was over and I had arrived back in England and had become CIGS (Chief of the Imperial General Staff) at the War Office, my three caravans came with me. It was finally agreed that they were mine during my life. I then said that on my death they would all three be given to the Imperial War Museum and this was agreed. In years to come historians and scholars will learn with interest how the Commander in Chief of the British Army in the field lived during the war against Hitler’s Germany.”