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As we get
older I think we all tend to look back, on occasions, to times
gone by and remember, and sometimes wallow in, happenings of our
younger days.
Inevitably our minds wander and memories of Squadron life make their
presence
felt, and particular events again unfurl before our eyes, which in
their
original setting could be regarded as “At First Sight” but now must be
seen
under the more appropriate heading “At Second Sight”.
So, in looking back myself, I can recollect
situations which, I am sure,
will also “ring a few bells” for any Squadron member who bothers to
read on,
and raise the reaction “Yes, I remember that and I agree, at the time,
it
certainly was “A sight for sore eyes”. So here goes.
1
The flares go down
precisely on schedule and there, just in front of you, by a stroke of
good
luck, the Marking Point comes into view and for good measure, you also
just
happen to be at the right height, so over the radio you utter the time
honoured
phrase “Tally Ho” and in you go, drop your TIs and climb away, and at
the first
opportunity turn for a quick look and there they are, burning smack in
the
middle of the marking point. Now isn’t that “a sight for sore eyes”?
2
The Met. Briefing
before take-off included the bad news that on our return to base we
should
expect low cloud and drizzle, as a Front was expected to come through,
and
landing could be tricky and that there was a possibility that we may be
diverted to another airfield. So imagine, after a tiring OP and being
apprehensive
about the forthcoming landing, especially as you’ve been flying in
thick cloud
soon after leaving the Target area, you reach the East Coast and
suddenly, you
are out of cloud, the sky is clear and the stars are shining bright.
“What a
sight for sore eyes!”
3
It’s the middle of winter, the snow is deep
upon the ground, it’s bitterly cold
and we are huddled in our flight office waiting for the
telephone to ring in the
Wingco’s office, for we all know what that will mean, and then the
Naffi van
pulls up outside and a hot cup of tea and a bun hoves into view.
“That’s a
sight for sore eyes” someone exclaims, before leading a mass exit from
the
Flight office.
4
It’s been a hard
slog. You’ve been flying for over 5 hours on this one and you are
knackered, and
when you land and are de-briefed, you get back to the Mess, have
something to
eat and then stagger to your billet, open the door and see your bed.
How’s that
for “a sight for sore eyes”?
5
You are approaching
the Target and there is a mass of searchlights covering it which, as we
all
know, can be horribly blinding if you should get caught in them, and
then the
first flare-wave goes down and Jerry’s lights are nullified. Hoorah,
now you
can start looking for the marking point. So, that’s another “S.F.S.E.”
for you.
6
You’re over the
Target. The flak is heavy and it’s like daylight and you see one of the
Marking
Team being targeted by showers of light ack-ack and you think it could
be
Charlie and Fred, but you lose sight of their aircraft as you have to
get on
with the job, for the Target has to be marked. That done, you set
course for
home and the usual de-briefing, then, halfway through it, the door
opens and in
come Charlie and Fred. They really are “A sight for sore eyes”.
7
An OP which has been
scheduled is unexpectedly cancelled in the afternoon, just in time for
us to
organise a party for that night; and we all know what sort of “Sight,
that can
be, for sore eyes”.
8
It’s been a rough night; the weather pretty
awful. It’s been impossible to get
a pin-point to check the wind to ensure you are on course and on time
and you
only hope that the Met winds, on which your
course and timing were calculated, had not changed since
the briefing. The conditions over the Target area made identifying the
Marking Point
difficult too, but you manage somehow and head for home and then, as
you
approach the East Coast, the Gee comes alive again and you can get a
fix and,
shortly afterwards, just ahead of you, the lights of Woodhall Spa’s
flarepath
are within the “Sight of your sore eyes”.
9
You turn up at your
Flight Office one morning with the rest of your colleagues as usual and
there,
on the notice board, a note from the adjutant, confirming the date of
your next
leave. What “a sight for sore eyes”.
10
The day of the
daylight raid on the Gestapo Headquarters in Oslo, on New Year’s Eve
1944. Snow
and ice abound everywhere. It is a public holiday. Fathers and Mothers
are on
the streets of Oslo with their children, complete with sledges and
skates and
well wrapped up to keep out the cold, and there we are, at roof-top
level,
dodging the flak and seeing what appears to be half
of Oslo’s population with
their arms in the air, waving and obviously cheering frantically. Now
that
really is “a sight for sore eyes”.
11
The date was 28 May
1945 when a certificate, signed by a very senior officer of the RAF and
issued
to each member of the Squadron’s air crew, proved to be “a sight for
sore eyes”
for all of us, for it recognised, at long last, the skill and
dedication that
627 had shown in providing Bomber Command with the most accurate form
of
marking that had yet been devised. I refer, of course, to the granting
of the
coveted Pathfinder Badge by the AOC Pathfinder Force, Donald Bennett.
12
What an experience
and honour it was to serve with 627 Squadron. An elite Squadron with
fantastic
achievements to its credit and these successes were just as much due to
the
wonderful efforts of the ground crews and supporting services as to the
pilots
and navigators themselves; and those we lost will never be forgotten
either.
The Squadron photograph in my home, I see every day and that, truly, is
“a
sight for sore eyes”.
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