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Pte. Lancelot Morris Aspell . British Army Pioneer Corps (d.27th Dec 1941) Lancelot Morris Aspell died at the age of 28 whilst serving with the Pioneer Corps. He was the son of Lancelot and Edith Ellen Aspell (nee Richardson) of Jarrow. His younger brother Robert was also one of the fallen
Lancelot is buried in Jarrow Cemetery.
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L/Cpl. Robert Osborne Aspell . British Army 2nd Btn. Highland Light Infantry (City of Glasgow Regiment) (d.1st Aug 1944) Robert Osborne Aspell died ages 26 whilst serving with the 2nd Btn Highland Light Infantry. He was the son of Lancelot and Edith Ellen Aspell (nee Richardson) of Jarrow and husband of Elsie Aspell (nee Rowland) of Jarrow
His older brother Lancelot was also one of the fallen.
Robert is buried in Hottot-Les-Bagues War Cemetery.
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Marine Ernest Aspin . Royal Marines (d.27th September 1940) Marine Aspin was 42 when he died and is buried in Grave 8 in the Chapel Strand Cemetery, Arranmore Island, Co. Donegal, Ireland.
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Dvr. James Aspin . British Army from England POW Camp Fukuoka 17 in Japan
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Pte. R. Aspinal . North Caribbean Force British Honduras Btn. from Belize (d.1st May 1944) Private Aspinal was the son of Mrs. B. Bevans, of Belize.
He is remembered on the Special Memorial in the Belize City Cemetery.
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Flt/Sgt. Harry Aspinall DFM. Royal Air Force No.61 Squadron from Atherton, Lancashire (d.23rd April 1944) Flt.Sgt.Harry Aspinall was my father and this year 2012 on Nov.11th I have been granted permission to take part in this years Cenotaph Ceremony in Whitehall. I shall wear my Dad's DFM with pride. He was killed 9 days after my first birthday on 23rd.April 1944.
One night, in September 1943, he along with Pilot Officer Anthony Bird, Sgt.Edward James Kemish and Sgt.Bernard Kendrick while on a mission over Hanover were approaching the target when their aircraft was illuminated by searchlights and immediately attacked by 3 fighters. One engine was set on fire and rendered useless and the other sustained damage. The combined efforts of these 4 airmen resulted in the bomb being released over the target and the damaged plane being returned to base.
Maybe there are relatives of some of these brave men still alive if so I would be very happy to meet them.
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Dvr. Wilfred Asquith . British Army 2nd Search Light Regiment, 5th Battery Royal Artillery from Thurnscoe Wilfred Asquith was captured near Calais on 26th of May 1940, he was caught when an ambulance he and his mates had liberated hit a mine.
He was imprisoned in the following camps:
- Stalag 21B from 08/06/1940 till 12/07/1940,
- Stalag 21D from 12/07/1940 till 22/11/1940,
- Stalag 344 from 22/11/1940 till 23/01/1945,
- Stalag 7A from 12/04/1945 till 29/04/1945.
He was also at the work camp at Blechhammer from 22/11/1940 till 23/01/1945 as a Wireman
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Pte. William Asquith . British Army No. 6 Commando My father was William Asquith who served with No.6 Commando.
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Pte. Victor "Vito" Assante . South African Army from Cape Town, South Africa Vito Assante was a lifelong friend of Luigi Antonio Mancini and Ruth Norager (my late parents-in-law) of Cape Town, South Africa. I have a postcard sent to Miss Ruth Norager from Vito Assante, whilst held in captivity by the German Wehrmact at Stallag 7A, just north of Moosburg in Southern Bavaria. Luigi Antonio Mancini was part of the Cape Town Highlanders, but was medically discharged and returned to South Africa. Both Luigi and Vito survived the war.
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F/Lt. William Radcliffe Assheton DFC.. Royal Air Force 222 Squadron William Assheton was born on 12th December 1917 in Kent and attended Sherborne School in Dorset. He went on to study Electrical Engineering at Jesus College, Cambridge but before completing his degree he joined the RAF on a short service commission in early 1939.
He was posted to 222 Squadron at Duxford in early November.
In August 1940 the squadron was at Hornchurch when the Battle of Britain began. On the 30th Assheton crash-landed at Bekesbourne Aerodrome in Spitfire R6720 after combat over Canterbury.
On 11th September he made a forced-landing on Parsonage Farm, Fletching, in Spitfire R6638, after an action over the Maidstone area
Assheton's third escape came on 20th September when he baled out with slight burns, after being shot down in a surprise attack by Me109's over the Thames Estuary. He landed at Latchington and was admitted to St. Peter's Hospital, Maldon. His Spitfire, K9993, crashed and burned out at Linkhouse Farm, West Hanningfield.
In 1945 Assheton was awarded the DFC (gazetted 10th April 1945) for service with 540 Squadron, a Mosquito photographic-reconnaissance unit.
He remained in the RAF after the war, graduated from the RAF Staff College and retired on 22nd November 1957 as a Squadron Leader.
He then moved to Spain where he died in November 2009.
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Pte. Francois Assous . British Army 364 Coy. Pioneer Corps from Tunis (d.8th August 1944) Private Assous was the Son of Mikael and Camouna Assous; husband of Mathilde Assous, of Tunis.
He is buried in the Tunis (Borgel) Jewish Cemetery, Plot 1, Grave 31, in Tunisia
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L/Cpl. Harold Astbury . British Army 1/7th Btn. Royal Warwickshire Regiment My late father Harold Astbury was a prisoner in Stalag XXA (3A) in Poland following his capture at Dunkirk.
He joined the territorial battalion of the Royal Warwickshire Regiment after the Munich crisis along with pals in their local rugby club in Coventry. As L/Cpl Harold Astbury 511320 he went to France in January 1940.
He was first wounded by "friendly fire" when he was struck in the head by shrapnel from French anti aircraft fire. His steel helmet saved him but to the end of his life he had pronounced scars in his scalp, which we would feel as children.
He returned to active service just before the German invasion. He recalled the advance into Belgium was dispiriting as they passed through the cemeteries of the Great War. He told the tale of meeting Lord Gort, the C in C while his section were digging a tank trap. After explaining to the General about what would happen with the trap when the Germans came, a junior staff officer piped up at the back.
"The fellows talking as though they'll be here next week"
Which was, my father said, was precisely what did happen.
At Dunkirk he said his unit along with others formed a defensive line on a canal on the Franco Belgian border. The next day they found the other units had been withdrawn. The Germans arrived and after a firefight he was wounded by a bullet passing through his top lip and he passed out from loss of blood.
He, along with all those who did not get away then passed through Holland where he was seen by representatives of the Red Cross. He was given a pencil and a scrap of paper to put his name rank a serial number. This eventually reached his mother attached to a Red Cross postcard saying he had been seen and was alright, although now prisoner 12197.
Others of his regiment were not so fortunate and were summarily executed by the Germans after capture.
In Poland he was in a fortress built on the old German/Russian border. He said that at one time the Allied prisoners did not occupy the whole fort but that there were displaced Polish families there as well. A sad story he told me many years later was of how the prisoners were exercised by being marched round the top of the fort and that a prisoner had committed suicide by jumping from the fortress wall.
He was always disparaging of the prisoner of war films made after the war as they always portrayed the life of officers and not that of other ranks who were required to work by the Germans. Therefore plans to escape could only be hatched in what free time they had.
Certainly there were successes in getting home.
This picture is one I think was sent to my father by two escapees. The innocent scene of two friends fishing is in fact the disguise they used. He also kept to the end of his life a corner of a postcard with an address in Lisbon, which showed someone had reached neutral Portugal. He also had his City and Guilds certificate for Spanish "place of examination Stalag XX". It was part of an escape plan. They would all learn Spanish and pass themselves off as volunteers for the "Blau" division, who were Spanish Nazi sympathisers fighting in Russia, returning on leave to Spain, which was then neutral.
There was also tragic irony, two of those who knew to escape returned to active service and one was killed in North Africa and one in the Far East. He also talked of the mysterious repatriation of a prisoner nicknamed "the thin man" as he looked like the actor in the thin man films.
Prisoners set to manual labour. He told of working at the Christiana tabacfabrik packing tobacco for Germans on the Eastern front.
They brought tobacco from the Balkans in cattle trucks and mixed it with a little Virginia tobacco bought before the war. The cattle trucks had been used to move animals and the prisoners were required to sweep everything out of the trucks. This was done with great care so that many a German light up a pipeful of cow dung in Russia! Before the war he was in the post office and also worked sorting prisoners mail and I have been contacted through the website by some one who can remember working with him.
The prisoners were paid in camp money for this work but the War Office then deducted this from their Army pay accruing in England.
I also attach photos of my father as a prisoner and of a play put on in the camp. The photo in the contribution by Bill Overy is from the same set. My father is on the back row third from the right in a light jacket. Of the actors he only recalled Sam Kydd who was famous in the sixties as "Orlando" on ITV.
He said that from the camp they could see the vapour trails of the German experimental launching of V" rockets from Peenamunde on the Baltic but discounted as fantasy the Polish reports of the Germans firing railway engines into space.
Finally the war turned our way and one day in June as he travelled on a train he could see the Poles barely able to control themselves with the news of the Allied invasion of France. As the Russians closed in the prisoners were marched west. By that time the guards consisted of hard-line Nazis too wounded to return to the front and very elderly men whose only skill was an ability to speak English. They were more concerned to reach the western allies and escape the Russians.
He was finally liberated one month short of five years after his capture. The relived German guards were last seen going off to captivity on an American tank. He was given a "K" ration by the Americans, which contained a hairbrush and shaving kit including a shaving brush, which he then used to the end of his life. The only items he was able to "liberate" were a Nazi party swastika armband and a large bottle of De Kyper cherry brandy. However it was so cold this froze in barracks they were billeted in and the next day a sticky mess was across the barrack floor as the bottle had split
While a prisoner a young woman from Coventry wrote to him, they had known each other slightly before the war. Her letters to the camp came in a distinctive peach envelope, each of which he kept until the march to the west.
He returned to England and they married in the autumn of 1945.
I also see from the site there were many Scots from the 51st Highland Brigade prisoner as well
and as a child there were many visits to old comrades on our summer holidays to Scotland.
He also talked about being kept in the forts round Thorn (Torun) and being exercised on the parapets,
but that also Polish refugees/displaced families would occupy parts of the forts.
Until I read the contributions I did not realise how large the march West had been. He described
being on the road with a general stream of refugees including a circus at one stage.
Those guarding them by then were either disabled hardline Nazis or elderly men he portrayed
to me as being like private Godfreys more concerned about finding and surrendering to the
Americans before the Soviets got them.
His grandson idolized his grandfather and I am sure would welcome any information from anyone who knew him during this time.
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HR Astbury . British Army 141st Regiment Royal Armoured Corps HR Astbury served with the 141st Regiment Royal Armoured Corps British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: The Wartime Memories Project is no longer in contact with Dan , his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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Mjr. Norman Astell Mid.. British Army att. Raiding Support Regiment Green Howards (d.24th Dec 1944) My grandfather was in the raiding support regiment, he took this photograph of Norman Astell's original grave.
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Cpl. Sydney William "Doug" Aster . British Army C squadron 2nd Dragoon Guards (Queen's Bays) from Hackney, London My brother Sydney Aster was called up in about 1941 and trained at Bovingdon Camp in Dorset. He served with the Queens Bays in North Africa, Italy and was at the battle for Monti Casino.
At one time, together with a sargent, he was captured and made to sit one side of a camp fire. When all of a sudden the sargent jumped up and took hold of the brazier, which held the fire, and lifted it up all over the Germans and they both ran like wild. Needless to say the sargent suffered from burns on the hands, but was a brave man.
Being at the front of the action in the desert, whilst they had a short rest, they could see dust in the distance and were ready for action, only to be confronted by two old dears in a tea waggon. They shouted out would you like a nice cup of tea boys. Everyone was amazed at how they got there, part of the area was mined, the waggon had lost its way, they would loved to have said yes please, but the enemy was very close as they were in the front line!
One old dear said is that boy all right round there, they told her yes he is sleeping, but really he had been killed in action. They quickly rounded up someone to escort them quickly back well behind the front lines. Lets hope they made it!
It was not very often that friends could be made, for as soon as replacements came up they could be killed the next minute. He often took up position of Tank Commander due to the causality list.
As with all the brave men he never talked very much about the war, he was wounded in Italy holding a bridge and was hospitalised for a time at Zabratha, where he remembered wandering amongst Roman Ruins. I wish he could have told me more, but he passed away in 1976.
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ORD Astill . British Army Royal Armoured Corps ORD Astill served with the Royal Armoured Corps British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: The Wartime Memories Project is no longer in contact with Dan , his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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Pte. Clarence Frederick Astley DSO.. British Army 2nd Btn. Royal Warwickshire Regiment from Erdington, Birmingham  My father Fred Astley signed up to the Royal Warwickshire Regiment on the 4th of October 1938, before WW2. He served 5 years and 1 month, from 3rd of September 1939 to 4th of October 1944 as a Private. Then transferred to 2nd Suffolk Regiment, Corporal, for 1 year and 3 months, from 5th of October 1944 to 3rd of June 1946 when he was released to Section B Army reserve. He served in France for 11 months, from 23rd of September 1939 to 27th of August 1940. Being a POW in France for 4 months, he escaped and was living in France for another 5 months, he said the French underground assisted him to get back to England, from 28th of August 1940 to 17th of September 1940. He served in Lahore, India for 10 months - his role was Animal Management, from 2nd of May 1944 to 2nd of March 1946 and spent 27 days in a military hospital in Lahore and another 30 days in a convalescence hospital in Dalhousie, from 4th of May 1945 to 29th of June 1945.
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Sgt.Major. John Thomas Astley . British Army 4th Battalion Royal Berkshire Regiment from Bristol Jack Astley served with the Royal Berkshire Regiment. He served in Germany and India before the war. He was captured in France on the 26th of May 1940 and spent 4 years as a prisoner of war.
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Fl.Lt./Pilot Sydney Astley . Royal Air Force 157 Sqdn. from Stockport Syd Astley was a Mosquito pilot night flyer. He died in 2012.
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W Astley . British Army Kings Liverpool Regiment W Astley served with the Kings Liverpool Regiment British Army. I have his unissued dogtags, made in preparation for deployment to the Far East and would love to get them home to his family. I am happy to cover all costs. If you are a family member or can put me in touch with them please get in touch. Update: The Wartime Memories Project is no longer in contact with Dan , his website, facebook page and email have all ceased to function. But if you can add any details about the person listed, please use the add to record link below.
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Major Benjamin William Aston . British Army Devonshire Regiment I'm looking for information on my grandfather, Benjamin Aston. I have found information on him during 1936 as being in the Territorial Devonshire Regiment. I know he became a Major during the war. I don't think he left this country. I know he was in the Army Corps at Oxford University and cadets at his private school. He moved to Glasgow after the war. I know he met my Gran or, so were told, as she was his driver later on in the war. Her name was Mary, or Molly Sprague or Cumming - she was born in Africa which is slowing her research. Anything on these guys would be amazing as I'm coming against a brick wall.
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Flt.Sgt. John Edward Griffiths Aston DFM. Royal Air Force 103 Squadron (d.27th September 1943)
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Flt.Lt Ron Aston . Royal Air Force 61 Squadron LANDING ON THREE! Ron Aston (a survivor) now living in Gordons Bay South Africa.
November 25th 1944 was a wet wintry day in Wigsley, Nottinghamshire. Cloud was low and it was dull grey with showers. I was there to convert from twin engined Wellingtons to Stirling four engined aircraft, prior to going on to Lancasters and thence to joining a squadron.
Today my crew and I were to undertake our first cross-country exercise. Well prepared, with four hours solo, briefed, in possession of the met forecast, we took off after lunch into the murky day. The weather didn't present any problems, we were well trained on instruments both in cloud and at night, and we knew we would have to make a night landing on our return. I had a good Navigator and was confident that this would be just another exercise... How wrong could I be?
We were climbing on course and levelled out at about 6000' in and out of cloud. I was busy sighting the two port engines to synchronise the propellers, after which I would do the same with the starboard ones. This is done by simply adjusting each pair of throttles so that the pair each side are running at exactly the same speed - this cuts out the droning associated with multi-engined piston aircraft. Whilst adjusting the throttles, the port outer throttle lever gave me a severe rap across the knuckles which, despite the gloves, hurt. I immediately asked the Fight Engineer to check the instruments for that engine. I knew that there must have been a backfire through the fuel induction system which could be caused by a broken valve or faulty ignition. Either way is wasn't good news, especially when the Engineer reported that the engine was running hot and losing oil pressure rapidly. There was no choice but to tell him to feather the prop and shut down number one engine.
Now I knew that the Stirling was underpowered, indeed, it was a very heavy and ponderous aircraft to fly. But I had no idea how it would perform on three engines... Shortly I would find out! With the remaining three engines now at full power, I now had a course to steer for a return to base, but there I was with both feet on the same rudder pedal, both hands straining the ailerons to keep the port wing up, and losing height.
Returning for an emergency landing, at about 3000' feet I was holding height. We were now in cloud and it was getting dark. I called the Wigsley tower for an emergency landing and was told to stand by. This I accepted as I knew they would want to get the emergency vehicles at the ready. Meantime the Engineer and I were recalling items from the Pilot's Notes for the Stirling. One point kept coming back - on three engines with wheels and flaps down you cannot overshoot. This meant that once these were down we were committed to land. Then another thought occurred to me; I had never been demonstrated a three engine landing or practised one with an instructor! So I assumed it was the same as a single engine landing on a twin, so it didn't worry me too much.
Continuing to call base for permission to break cloud and land, each time they came back with the same message to stand by. After half an hour of flying the crippled aircraft around in thick cloud I was beginning to sweat blood. Calling base again I told them I was breaking cloud and preparing to land at the first aerodrome I saw. Immediately they came back with the instruction to divert to Waddington. My Navigator gave me a course to steer and an ETA of eight minutes. At 1000' we broke cloud into a clear black night. In a short while I saw the runway lights and the Drem system of an airfield dead ahead and told the Navigator that I could see Waddington.
Calling on the emergency frequency I requested permission to join the circuit for an emergency landing. This given, I reported in the circuit and again on downwind. As I turned onto base I lowered the undercarriage and still with plenty of height, lined up with the runway as I turned onto final. As we reduced speed it became more difficult to keep straight. At 300' I called for full flap as I was then certain of making the runway. Just as the flaps came down I was given a red from the runway caravan and a red Very light, just in time to see another four engined aircraft taxi out onto the runway for take off...
The very same runway we were now committed to! I had no time to be horrified, I knew that an overshoot was impossible, and the instinct for self preservation took over. There was no time to think; I knew I had to land and I didn't fancy landing on top of the other aircraft. So I did the only thing possible - turned 10„a to port and proceeded to land on the grass, looking out of the starboard window to judge my height from the flare path, seeing also the other aircraft take off. Fortunately there were no obstructions and we made a fair landing.
Making back for the runway I turned off left, parked and shut down, with an incredible feeling of relief! Most of the crew had no idea what was going on - just that I had landed on the grass - but those up front soon put them wise. A van arrived shortly and we all piled in. I asked to be taken to the tower and arriving there marched up the steps feeling very much put out and more than a little peeved. I opened the door with a bang and asked who the hell let the aircraft take off whilst I was coming down on an emergency landing. They all looked puzzled and said they had no knowledge that I was making an emergency landing. I was quick to remind them that I had been talking to them only minutes before on joining the circuit... this they denied all knowledge of... and then it struck me... I asked "this is Waddington isn't it?" "Oh no!" they said, "this is Swinderby!" I had landed at the wrong airfield!
24th February 1945 was my first daylight raid, the target being the Dortmund–Ems Canal Canal, Germany. I paid particular attention to the briefing to be ‘on the ball’ and to make sure of my designated position in the ‘goggle’. Unlike the US Army Air Corps, the Lancaster wasn’t designed to fly in formation; we kept position in loose groups of aircraft.
We took off with a full bomb load from our Linconshire base early afternoon, expecting a return night landing. As we went out to the dispersals I kept an eye on the other aircraft that I was to fly alongside, so I could take off as close to them as possible. There was little wind and we used the whole runway to take off. Alas, once airborne it was impossible to catch up with those in front. We were climbing at nearly full power so I did what everyone else did and slipped into the gaggle at the nearest point and held station, which wasn’t easy as the Lancs in front & on either side began to wander. daylight raids demanded more attention than keeping course at night. All went well for a couple of hours, but then the Wireless Operator announced that the op had been abandoned due to heavy cloud over the target, and that we were to return to base. I thought that we should go for an alternative target, but no, we were to return to Skellingthorpe. As we turned I could see some of the other Lancs dropping their bombs into the North Sea. As we flew back 4Flight Enenginee and myself had a discussion about the weight of the aircraft for landing. The bomb load comprised fourteen 1000 lb bombs with half-hour delay acid fuses. We had consumed fuel on the engine run-ups prior to take off, climbing to height and cruising for two hours since then.
The flight engineer gave his computed figure which showed that we were well over the maximum permitted weight for landing. Should I jettison some or all of our bombs? Hell, to come all this way and drop those precious bombs into the ocean seemed such a waste; overweight or not, I would take those bombs back. I was confident that I could handle it, as the Lancaster was the most forgiving aircraft that I had flown, so we continued back in the dark. I could see other aircraft landing as we approached Skellingthorpe, and I could already imagine the taste of the hot cup of cocoa as we entered the crewroom. I called up on the radio and we joined the circuit. Suddenly the whole world lit up. A huge explosion had taken place on the airfield, and even at 1000 ft we felt the shock wave. Immediately I turned off the navigation lights as I thought German night fighters had come back with us in the bomber stream, as sometimes happened. After a few minutes I was diverted to Woddington, just a short hop away from our own base, and was soon on the approach to landing there. In the meantime, with all the excitement, I had other things on my mind and had forgotten about our weight. However, all this came rushing back to me as we were about to land, but thankfully all went well. However, I was surprised when the groundcrew directed us to the far side of the airfield, where we began a long wait in the dark.
Eventually, after we had tucked the aircraft down for the night, a ~n from Skellingthorpe picked us up. The driver told us that another LAnc with bombs on board had exploded, killing its crew as well as seven ground crew, and destroyed other planes and hangars.
It was a very sad journey home, and we got to bed in the early hours of the morning. Early that same morning I was woken with the news that I was to return to Waddington to collect our aircraft, as it was required for a sortie that same night. A little piece of RAP St Mowgan’s 42 Squadron History: Flown by squadron CO Wg Cdr Carson, on 2nd Auciust 1965, Mk III SF~ack WR958 dropped supplies at a rendezvous 400 miles out into the Atlantic.
Robert Manry, sailing a 14 ft dinghy from Falmouth, Connecticut USA to Falmouth, Cornwall was making the British National press headlines at the time and, of course, someone at Mob thought it great PR to drop mail and fresh fruit to sailor Manry. The skill in finding this tiny boat in the middle of the ocean didn’t occur to anyone, except the aircrew who had to find it - pre-GPSI. The Press were in the accompanying shack to witness and photograph the event, and this is the photo syndicated at the time.
I can only tell you how relieved the navigator in ‘b’ was when the aircraft landed - the crew also had an AVM on board, a future AOC for 18 Group! Waddington knew of the tragic accident at Skellingthorpe before we landed, and didn’t want a repeat performance with another of our aircraft. Last night there had been seven aircraft lined up with ours, but this morning mine was the only plane there and all the other crews were back in bed - where I wanted to be as I expected to fly an op again that night. Meanwhile, there was not a soul in sight by our aircraft - everyone knew that my bomb-bay was full of bombs! On entering the aircraft we were staggered to see the fuselage aft of the tail door stocked with the fins from our 1000 lb bombs, each standing chest-high. There were also ammunition boxes containing the bomb fuses. With so much weight in the rear of the aircraft it was impossible to take off, so something had to be off-loaded. I then contacted control and asked if the armourers could take off some of the bombs. But we waited and waited, and nobody came. After two hours I had had enough, so I sent the bomb aimer to see if the bombs were safe. He did just that and reported that all was well. I started the engines, did the proof light checks, switched off the radio, and then told the bomb aimer to release the entire bomb load on the grass. We felt a jolt as the bombs left the aircraft, and I could feel the Lanc breathing a sigh of relief, just like me. To clear the tail wheel around the bombs I locked one main wheel and pivoted the Lanc around. Fortunately this manoeuvre worked, and as I headed for the runway I glimpsed our 14 large bombs laid out neatly on the grass. I then took off and landed at Skellingthorpe a few minutes later. Believe it or not, I never heard another word about the incident. Thankfully I also didn’t have to fly that night, but I did return to Dortman Elms Canal several times.
Ron is alive but not too well, in Gordons Bay South Africa.
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Flt.Lt Ron Aston . RAF -Royal Air Force 61 Squadron Skellingthorp
By Ron Aston
Old War Stories: l3Bombs AwayITM
Shack Drops a Welcome
Ron Aston,.
Serving in the Royal Air Force during WW2 as a F14’ht Lieutenant Pilot flying 61 Squadron’s Lancasters~ from RAF Skellingthorpe, Lincolnshire. Ron hasn’t been too well recently. 30/05/2010
24th February 1945 was my first daylight raid, the target being the Dortmund–Ems Canal Canal, Germany. I paid particular attention to the briefing to be ‘on the ball’ and to make sure of my designated position in the ‘goggle’. Unlike the US Army Air Corps, the Lancaster wasn’t
designed to fly in formation; we kept position in loose groups of aircraft.
We took off with a full bomb load from our Linconshire base early afternoon, expecting a return night landing. As we went out to the dispersals I kept an eye on the other aircraft that I was to fly
alongside, so I could take off as close to them as possible. There was little wind and we used the whole runway to take off. Alas, once
airborne it was impossible to catch up with those in front. We were climbing at nearly full power so I did what everyone else did and slipped into the gaggle at the nearest point and held station, which wasn’t easy as the Lancs in front & on either side began to wander. daylight raids demanded more attention than keeping course at night.
All went well for a couple of hours, but then the Wireless Operator
announced that the op had been abandoned due to heavy cloud over
the target, and that we were to return to base. I thought that we should go for an alternative target, but no, we were to return to Skellingthorpe. As we turned I could see some of the other Lancs dropping their bombs into the North Sea.
As we flew back 4Flight Enenginee and myself had a discussion about the weight of the aircraft for landing. The bomb load comprised fourteen 1000 lb bombs with half-hour delay acid fuses. We had consumed fuel on the engine run-ups prior to take off, climbing to height and cruising for two hours since then. The flight engineer gave his computed figure which showed that we were well over the maximum permitted weight for landing. Should I jettison some or all of our bombs? Hell, to come all this way and drop those precious bombs into the ocean seemed such a waste; overweight or not, I would take those bombs back. I was confident that I could handle it, as the Lancaster was the most forgiving aircraft that I had flown, so we continued back in the dark.
I could see other aircraft landing as we approached Skellingthorpe, and I could already imagine the taste of the hot cup of cocoa as we entered the crewroom. I called up on the radio and we joined the circuit. Suddenly the whole world lit up. A huge explosion had taken place on the airfield, and even at 1000 ft we felt the shock wave. Immediately I turned off the navigation lights as I thought German night fighters had come back with us in the bomber stream, as sometimes happened.
After a few minutes I was diverted to Woddington, just a short hop away from our own base, and was soon on the approach to landing there. In the meantime, with all the excitement, I had other things on my mind and had forgotten about our weight. However, all this came rushing back to me as we were about to land, but thankfully all went well. However, I was surprised when the groundcrew directed us to the far side of the airfield, where we began a long wait in the dark. Eventually, after we had tucked the aircraft down for the night, a ~n from Skellingthorpe picked us up. The driver told us that another LAnc with bombs on board had exploded, killing its crew as well as seven ground crew, and destroyed other planes and hangars. It was a very sad journey home, and we got to bed in the early hours of the morning. Early that same morning I was woken with the news that I was to return to Waddington to collect our aircraft, as it was required for a sortie that same night.
A little piece of RAP St Mowgan’s 42 Squadron History: Flown by squadron CO Wg Cdr Carson, on 2nd Auciust 1965, Mk III SF~ack WR958 dropped supplies at a rendezvous 400 miles out into the Atlantic.
Robert Manry, sailing a 14 ft dinghy from Falmouth, Connecticut USA to Falmouth, Cornwall was making the British National press headlines at the time and, of course, someone at Mob thought it great PR to drop mail and fresh fruit to sailor Manry. The skill in finding this tiny boat in the middle of the ocean didn’t occur to anyone, except the aircrew who had to find it - pre-GPSI. The Press were in the accompanying shack to witness and photograph the event, and this is the photo syndicated at the time. I can only tell you how relieved the navigator in ‘b’ was when the aircraft landed - the crew also had an AVM on board, a future AOC for 18 Group!
Waddington knew of the tragic accident at Skellingthorpe before we landed, and didn’t want a repeat performance with another of our aircraft. Last night there had been seven aircraft lined up with ours, but this morning mine was the only plane there and all the other crews were back in bed - where I wanted to be as I expected to fly an op again that night. Meanwhile, there was not a soul in sight by our aircraft - everyone knew that my bomb-bay was full of bombs!
On entering the aircraft we were staggered to see the fuselage aft of the tail door stocked with the fins from our 1000 lb bombs, each standing chest-high. There were also ammunition boxes containing the bomb fuses. With so much weight in the rear of the aircraft it was impossible to take off, so something had to be off-loaded. I then contacted control and asked if the armourers could take off some of the bombs. But we waited and waited, and nobody came. After two hours I had had enough, so I sent the bomb aimer to see if the bombs were safe. He did just that and reported that all was well.
I started the engines, did the proof light checks, switched off the radio, and then told the bomb aimer to release the entire bomb load on the grass. We felt a jolt as the bombs left the aircraft, and I could feel the Lanc breathing a sigh of relief, just like me. To clear the tail wheel around the bombs I locked one main wheel and pivoted the Lanc around. Fortunately this manoeuvre worked, and as I headed for the runway I glimpsed our 14 large bombs laid out neatly on the grass. I then took off and landed at Skellingthorpe a few minutes later.
Believe it or not, I never heard another word about the incident. Thankfully I also didn’t have to fly that night, but I did return to Dortman Elms Canal several times.
Ron is alive but not too well, in Gordons Bay South Africa.
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Sgt Maurice Robert Aston. . RAF 12Sqd. (d.12th Jun 1943) Maurice Aston, served as a navigator, he was kiled on 25th June 1943 in Lancaster ED968 PH-P Bar of 12sqd
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MR/368 A. H.M. Atchia . British Army Royal Mauritius Regiment (d.28th February 1942) Corporal Atchia was buried in the Diego Garcia (Pointe Marianne) Cemetery in the British Indian Ocean Territory.
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Maud Atchison . Land Army Does any one have any information on or photos of my Grandmother, Maude Atchison who served with the womens land army in Glasgow such as Galston or New Mill farms in Ayrshire, as she has lost all her photos and letters.
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AB. George Arthur Atherton . Royal Navy HMS Sirius George Atherton served in HMS Sirius.
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Cpl. James Ambrose Atherton . British Army Royal Signals from Wallasey, Cheshire My mother's father, James Atherton, was a tall, stooped old man to me. He didn't talk much and I was a bit scared of him. Everything I know is what my mother has told me.
Grandad was a telephone engineer for the old UK Post Office. He had joined the Territorials earlier in the 1930s because he liked the idea of getting time off each year for training. On the day war was declared, the Territorials were the first to be called up. He was in the Royal Corps of Signals.
He was sent to France and was part of the famous 1940 Dunkirk evacuation: over eight days, 338,226 soldiers were rescued from Dunkirk by a hastily assembled fleet of boats including fishing boats, pleasure craft and lifeboats, which ferried them out to the larger ships.
Mum and granny were in the local air raid shelter the night grandad got home. He got into the (locked) house somehow, wearing just a pair of overalls as his uniform had been soaked.
Next he was sent to the Western Desert (North Africa Campaign), but never said where exactly although he mentioned going to Cairo on days off (1941-42). He was laying telephone lines when a German (or Italian?) plane flew over and machine-gunned them. They lay face down and he was shot in the back, through his stomach. Of the party, he was the only survivor when the search party found them.
Operating facilities were rudimentary, and with just local anaesthetic doctors opened up his stomach, cut out the sections of intestines with holes in, and stitched it all together again. Grandad recalled watching his intestines being pulled out and piled up on his chest. Not surprisingly, he developed peritonitis after this, was invalided out and took a year to recover. After this his rank was reduced to private (from corporal), and he was sent to the Pay Corps in Nottingham for the rest of the war.
We always knew that grandad had half his stomach missing, and thought that the reason he stooped was because his stomach had caved in without the intestines to fill it. We somehow knew not to ask him about the war, and being little girls we probably weren't very interested. He hated the war and never marched in veteran parades. In fact, he lent his Africa Star to another soldier who had lost his, and never got it back.
Despite having asthma and liking his drink, grandad lived to the age of 78 and died in his sleep, still living with granny in Wallasey, Cheshire.
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John Edward Atherton . British Army Royal Army Medical Corps from Fleetwood, Lancashire Little is known about John Atherton, other than he served in France and did not get evacuated at Dunkirk, but got back to England soon after. He married in Fleetwood in Jun 1940. Spent time after either as a patient or orderly in a Leeds hospital. Fellow soldiers included Jack Fish (from Lancashire) and Bert Packman (from Kent)
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