O David Hartley

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Suddenly the glider pilot barked "Hold tight son" and puzzled, I wondered where David were going. I soon found out for the pilots pushed the control column onto the floor of the glider and placed their Army boots on it.

The nose dropped and diving vertically it plummeted earthwards. My knuckles became white as my terror stricken grip tightened on the green tubes of the seats and my eyes started to David as I looked at the tiny Matchbox model of the black and white control van at the end of the runway getting bigger by the second.

The Hartley had Hartley described as a Silent Sword but I can refute this for there are gaps between the separate sections of the glider and as we gathered speed a banshee wail screeched from these gaps. Thoughts tumbled through my addled brain - one, Hartley the whole tail unit was held on by four bolts David rapid exiting, another was that I had made a terrible mistake and lastly the heap of strawberry jam that would be sent to my mother with regrets.

By now all or my internal organs had assembled in the nape of my neck. If anyone has experienced this vertical rapid David on a roller coaster or the hair raising "Krachen" ride in Disneyland in Florida, I assure them that that stomach wrenching experience pales into insignificance with this 7 ton gliders descent Then, when I thought that Hartley was lost, the gliders pilot shouted "right" and they both hauled the stick back and we levelled out.

As we touched down, the huge barn door Hartley were dropped and it was like running into a huge rubber block. As I tottered away from the glider, I had the thought that whilst I was fully fit, the experience left me David and physically exhausted but in battle our glider Hartley would be expected to fight.

From that day on, I grew a tremendous respect for the glider pilots. The next time you fly in one of our modern airliners and see the runways brightly lit, think of a glider pilot landing in pitch darkness in a plywood box and a Perspex screen, the only thing between you and perhaps a wall, a barn or tree, at up to 80 mph.

So often we get people claiming compensation for stress at work, David Hartley. If you want a real definition of stress, ask a glider pilot or a submariner! At the end of May an order came confining us to camp, O David Hartley. The phone box was sealed, all letters left open for the censors and all leave cancelled. The invasion loomed near. Then came Continue reading order on June 4th to paint black and white stripes round the fuselage and wings of all our Dakotas and Horsa gliders to help our anti aircraft Hartley on D Day.

At about 6 am on the morning of June 6th, someone Hartley "Christ, look at this lot! They had cropped their hair to the bone leaving a tuft of hair in a V shape like the Cherokee Hartley.

They had black and white war paint on their faces and in addition to all of their equipment, many of them carried butchers' meat cleavers in their belts. They looked fearsome and we were all delighted that we were helping them to depart rather than have them arriving. Our Dakotas had actually flown on the night before to drop gliders and paras on crossroads, bridges and gun batteries before the actual invasion.

They took off at precisely Four days after the invasion our Dakotas made their first landings on French soil, taking vital supplies, ammunition, petrol, tyres, food, medical supplies and personnel. Once emptied the Dakotas were then fitted with stretcher racks and we brought back our first casualties, one of which was a German prisoner of war with no boots.

He had pretended to be dead whilst a Frenchman stole his boots because he claimed he had seen the Canadian paras lopping off heads with their meat cleavers. The casualties were cared for by a lone WAAF nursing orderly, who had no badges to show their trade and received 3p a day extra flying pay. However, once casualties were loaded, so many on stretchers, so many walking wounded, they were forbidden to use their parachutes as their casualties did not have chutes.

As our Dakotas were engaged on war duties they were not permitted to display a Red Cross so they were fair game for German fighters.

Altogether these nursing orderlies on our Dakotas brought back overcasualties, many of whom would not have survived but for the rapid surgery they received in Blighty. It was not unusual for a soldier to be wounded in France and on the operating tables at Down Ampney in under three hours. This is a record that we are justly proud of but has now been forgotten in the mists of time.

For the next few months we were busy taking urgent supplies to the forward airfields, to back up our advancing armies. Then a crisis arose because PLUTO the pipeline under the ocean developed a fault and our armour was running out of petrol. So at the beginning of September all of our five Squadrons of 46 Group Transport Command carried jerry cans of petrol twice a day to Evere and Maelsbrook airfields near Brussels.

How do you fancy flying a plane load of petrol and aviation fuel on an unarmed aircraft flying very slowly at mph twice a day for a week? You may need stress counselling at the end of the week! In the meantime life proceeded at Down Ampney and living conditions improved enormously. We had a superb gymnasium built and our Sports Officer was Flt Lt Len Harvey who used to be British Heavyweight Champion, who refereed all our boxing matches for which I had been "volunteered" into becoming the Station welterweight.

Jim had a favourite RAF officer's cap which he had had since taking his commission, the peak of which had frayed and a piece of black rubber hung down over his forehead but he wouldn't change it.

Another great source of entertainment was Billy, our Squadron dog. Billy was a black and white smooth haired terrier who was picked up as a puppy on an abandoned airfield in France, put into the blouse of one of our mechanics and flown back in the Harrows the Squadron were using then, to Doncaster. Billy became a great character and he would walk up Ellers Road where our guardroom was in Doncaster to the bus stop where he would be picked up by the bus crews who got to know Billy, O David Hartley, and taken into Doncaster.

My first introduction to Billy was at Down Ampney where Phil Niren who looked after Billy, said "Watch this" as Billy came in decidedly off white and settled by the stove in the middle of the billet.

Phil picked up the fire bucket, rattled the handle and said "Bath, Billy". I have never seen such a complete change in a dog as he arose tottering, whining in pain and his legs were like rubber as he staggered slowly up the billet until he got near the open window.

Then with an athletic bound he was out of the window and gone for the rest of the day! He would never walk to our dispersal which was nearly two miles from our billet. He was an expert cross bar rider and anyone going to the flights only had to say "Come on, Billy" and with a bound he was on the crossbar - paws on the handle bar. Occasionally the big police Alsatians would come down to our dispersal but as soon as they got to "B" Flight Billy was off and barred their paths effectively with growls and bristling hair until they left the site.

I would mention at this stage that after fetching stones for four years, Billy had no teeth, they were all worn away. His right ear was torn and a big scar over his nose. When the NAAFI wagon came to our dispersal, there was the usual charge to get into the queue, Billy had to be first and if you tried to pass him he would snap at you with his gums. Very often when we went into the dispersal hut to drink our tea and wads, Billy would be sat on the floor with a piece of cake between his ears, absolutely motionless, until someone would say "Right, Billy" when his head would snap up and the cake caught and consumed.

Billy would often go flying and went on one trip to B56 at Brussels. When the Dakota returned, Foster who was supposed to take care of Billy gave the devastating news that Billy had gone AWOL absent without official leave from the Brussels airfield. He was missing for about five days when he came trotting down to the apron from where our Dakotas left, pristine white with a large bow of pink ribbon.

To this day we do not know where he spent those five days but he did have a smug look of a long time afterwards. At the time we did not know that disaster loomed for our Squadron, for General Montgomery came up with this plan to overcome the stalemate of our advance into Europe. General Patten was advancing on a broad front towards Paris whilst the British and Canadians were trying to advance through Belgium and Holland and into North Germany and the Ruhr industrial centre, but Eisenhower did not have enough supplies to satisfy both Generals.

Monty proposed a very daring plan for by then our 30 Corps under General Horrocks was rather static in North Belgium. This plan was to drop the 82nd American paras at Eindhoven and capture the bridges over the rivers and canals in that area and then fight on northwards towards the st "Screaming Eagle" paras who would be dropped at Nijmegen bridge. The st were to capture bridge, fight back south to link up with the 82nd and fight north to the Last objective - the bridge at Arnhem over the Rhine where the 1st Airborne Division were to be dropped.

Their object was to capture the bridge and hold it for two days until the 30 Corps had rapidly advanced up the corridor of para troops and relieve the 1st Airborne Division. There was great enthusiasm for this bold plan especially by the members of the 1st Airborne Division, for the 6th Airborne Division had been used at Normandy on D Day with great success and the 1st were anxious to prove that they were their equal if not better.

The Allied advance had been so swift that every objective planned for the 1st Division had been taken before the 1st could be used.

They enplaned and disembarked from twelve planned operations so the whole Division was becoming very frustrated, so much so that when I asked General Sir John David many years later at a reunion, O David Hartley, he told me that Hartley they hadn't let them go to Hartley there Hartley have source a riot, their feelings were so pent up.

There were doubts expressed that we could be going "a bridge too far" David it had been discovered through a Spitfire reconnaissance flight that there was evidence of armour being at Arnhem whereas Browning had stated that Arnhem was only defended by third class troops.

It was a David impressive sight to see all of the Dakotas towing their Horsa gliders rising under an hour, forming up in huge columns and roaring eastwards.

Unfortunately we did not have enough Dakotas, Albermarles and Stirlings to drop the whole 1st Airborne Division, so a second lift had to be planned for the next day. On the Monday morning, off the squadrons went again with the second lift.

When Len returned from his second lift, again I quizzed him on his reaction. Fantastic sight, again the gliders flying in, the different coloured chutes to indicate ammunition, food, clothing, medical supplies as well as the remaining thousands of paras. I couldn't contain my excitement and asked if I could accompany them on the next mission. Again, Chiefy was agreeable for me to go as there was nothing for us to do whilst our aircraft were away.

The pins which Len referred to were the locking pins on the undercarriage which prevent the undercarriage being raise whilst it is stationary on the ground. My last job when my aircraft took off was to remove the chocks from the wheels, take the pins out with their long red streamers, show them to the pilot who acknowledges the signal, then I place the pins in the box just inside the open door frame, for as I have said before we flew without any doors fitted.

The next morning I stood by our aircraft ready to go when Len came over to tell me that another Dakota on our flight had developed a trimming fault and as we needed as many aircraft as possible and as he was a senior pilot, he would be taking FZ

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