207775 F/Lt. Donald Angus Evans Royal Air Force 106 Squadron from:Oxbow, Saskatchewan, Canada My father, Donald Angus Evans, was was born in 1919 in a tiny farming community called Oxbow in the Province of Saskatchewan, Canada. He was just 20 when he joined the RCAF and had never been off the farm. He came of age during the depression and they were greatly affected by the dust bowl that blew away the soft soil, and he lived through some very difficult times. My father used to tell me that in those days you were considered a man at 15! Anyways off he went to join RCAF and as I look at his pictures in uniform at that time, and know the feats he was to perform as a Navigator Officer in the Lancaster I am amazed! Of my father it could truly be said he was so young, so handsome, and so brave! He was selected to become a navigator. He did also train as a pilot and soloed but they decided his greatest skill set lay in navigating. Men selected as pilots and navigators trained much longer than for the other positions. Pilots and navigators trained for two years. In 1941 Dad completed his training and joined Bomber Command.
He was stationed somewhere else before 106 Squadron which was based in Metheringham - but I don't think he ever told his children the name. He told me many details of his life there. Since he spent almost all his time with the crew of his Lancaster, he developed a deep attachment. Although I don't know exactly how long each mission took but my father indicated that by the time you got briefed on your mission, flew deep into Germancy to bomb the industrial targets and then got home, were debriefed and went to bed - that most of the day was used up. That breakfast (with always some crew missing from the mission) was a bit sad since you didn't know if they had parachuted safely or not. Then you would sleep, get up prep for the day and then start all over again with briefing.
Days off were welcome and one tended to stay with your own crew of whom it could be said you became as attached as if they were your brothers. Either you went to a comrade's home if they were English or went into London with your comrades for something called a "Bash". Which, I think since young men don't change that much, we can imagine involved liqueur and meeting young women at dancehalls etc. I have the coolest picture of my Dad in full officer uniform with his arms around (he in the middle) 2 other officers that appear to be the pilot and co-pilot, it's a street photo taken in London. They are all officers and look happy & perhaps feeling no pain!
Dad lasted in Bomber Command from 1941 through to June 1945 - an amazing length of tour of duty considering casuality rates were about 55 percent! He backup bombed on D-Day in June 1945 and then on a mission later that month was shot down over occupied France. Three out of four engines were on fire but the pilot managed to keep the plane in the air long enough for all 7 crew members to parachute to safety! As an officer Dad was either the third or second to last out. The bombadier named Jack Kingston broke both ankles. He had a bad habit of leaving his heavy combat boots untied and loosened and as he floated to earth they both fell off! The pilot also broke his leg. Immediately Nazis with dogs came to capture them. My father alone escaped detection and was not imprisoned. I believe he told me that he cut his chute and rolled in a dirty ditch to disguise himself and ran! He was afterall a country boy. At any rate after walking at night and hiding in the woods in the day, he realized would have to approach someone for help. He chose a French couple driving a wagon. He approached and as luck would have it they were members of the French underground. He was then hidden in a place in Gourney, Brittany until liberation. I have since read the following stats on RCAF Lancaster crews - 55% killed, 29% survived 14% captured, 2% parachuted to safety and evaded capture. He was only 26 and had been on active combat duty for 5 years.
A toast to my father and all those brave, brave young men who gave their lives so we would live in freedom! Let us NEVER forget them. My Dad died 5 years ago at age eighty-seven. The WW2 vets are getting very old! We must honour them while they still remain and value their courage!! I am proud to be the daughter of a brave and wonderful man - a true warrior Donald Angus Evans.
|