Aircraft Jack flew during WW2

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After going to the R. C. A. F. many times, I got into that service as a clerk with a trade grouping on Nov. 4th 1939. Along with the others, we were the first to enlist in Vancouver. R.50592 was my Airman's number. We were sent to #1 Manning Depot in Toronto. It was to become famous because we were quartered in the Exhibition grounds in the building that housed various animals. I think the one we were in was the pig enclosure....the stench was overwhelming.

After two weeks there, I was posted to Trenton, Ontario in the orderly room of #1 Wireless School. My first two weeks were spent making up fake invoices. The Air force was still under peacetime regulations, which required them to get at least two prices on any item to be purchased. They needed some equipment immediately, so they bought it and I made up an invoice to show a higher price for the same item from another source.

In late November or early December, I was selected along with 7 others to go to Montreal to open up the new #1 Wireless School on Queen Mary Road. We were to the building occupied by the "Gray Nuns". They were late take over moving out, so we were quartered in an auxiliary air building on De Boullion St. This happened to be in the heart of force the "red light" district. Flight Sergeant Jacques was in charge of us and would take us on marches to fill in the time. The "ladies" would call out to us and say "Come on in .... it's free". F/S Jacques would say "Eyes straight ahead". No one got any free passes, even though the air force was exceptionally popular at the time.

When Conscription came in later years, we were very unpopular. When we finally got into the building, I was put in charge of the orderly room. I promptly put myself in for the highest trade grouping and for promotion. I did this just as soon as the last promotion was granted and in only about 6 months, I became a sergeant. At that time, you were supposed to be at least 3 months in each rank.....AC2.....AC1...LAC.....Cpl....Sgt. The British R. A. F were coming in to train the new students. I met an R. A. F. Sergeant from India who had been in the service for 25 years to get that rank....and we Canadians were higher paid. It took me just 6 months to achieve the same rank.

I grew a small mustache which was popular in the air force at that time. It made me look French or Jewish. One day, I got into an elevator with a French Nun. She spoke to me in French so I kept nodding until she got off the elevator.... didn't have a clue to what she was saying. The R.C.A.F. and R.A.F. were know as the Bryl Cream Boys....because our hair and mustaches were smoothed with Bryl Creme.

 A senior N.C.O. was needed for Eastern Air Command Headquarters in Halifax, so I was sent there and promptly recommended myself for promotion to Flight Sergeant. The orderly room was the hub of any station. All orders emanated from it through an adjutant. By 1940 I was an old hand. The adjutant officers were much newer to the service and were mostly unsure of their duties. The adjutant at Eastern Air Command Halifax never signed anything until we talked it over. Therefore, it was easy for me to recommend myself for promotion. I had two F/O adjutants in Halifax…a F/L F.F. Fatt and a F/O Guymer. I got so that I could sign any document with their signature as good as they could themselves.

When the Germans overran the French and the English, and were threatening to invade England, the British decided to send their gold reserves to Canada for safekeeping. It came in several shipments. An N.C.O. friend of mine in the wireless room found out that a shipment was arriving that day…we didn’t know that gold was involved…but it was a Royal Navy battleship, so we decided to go down and see it dock. There was very heavy security… only uniformed people around, although there were stevedores working some ships a block or two away. The area had ex-veterans enlisted with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police for guard duty. As we were walking toward the dock where the battleship was to tie up, a stevedore started walking toward the ship. A RCMP guard ordered him to stop… I don’t think the stevedore heard him, so the RCMP guard shot him in the back. He died instantly. We stayed around for a few minutes and walked on. Nobody stopped us. It made headlines in the next day’s paper. The young stevedore was engaged to be married. The paper stated he was lying in a pool of blood…there wasn’t a drop that we saw.

 Halifax was surely in the war zone for merchant seamen. Ships would often come in with huge holes in them, mostly in the bow area. My brother Jim came in one day on his way to England. He and several of his friends had sent their laundry out for cleaning. The next day they were shipped out, but they got in touch with me, and I inherited a bunch of laundry.

I caught an ride in a Hudson bomber one day out of Dartmouth. They were on an antisubmarine patrol out from Halifax…se saw nothing. I met a young Free French sailor from the submarine “Surcouf” and he took me on a tour of the sub. They went out on a mission a few days later and were sunk. Rumours abounded…they were sunk by a German sub…they were really giving information to the Germans, etc. Some Free French were still in Sympathy with the Vichy French. Possibly they were sunk by our forces…anyway, I’ve never heard what really did happen.

The US. Government sent 50 overage destroyers to the allies through Halifax I wrote to Mom and Dad about it and the mail was censored. I just received a warning not to write about Halifax events again.

I had two opportunities to go overseas. The first with the #1 Royal Canadian Air Force aircrew group. I’d get a commission, but no chance of flying. Then the army sent us a request for senior N.C.O.’s for tanks. We’d be commissioned, but that just wasn’t my cup of tea. A communication came in to Eastern Air Command Headquarters from Ottawa stating that only two N.C.O.’s could be recommended for aircrew training. The notice came to me first for action. Eastern Air Command Head Quarters comprised of Newfoundland and all the eastern provinces. I got in touch via Teletype with a good friend, Andy Huchela, a Sgt. In the Wireless D/F station in at Yarmouth, N.S. He asked me to put his name in along with mine. We had to have reports on our qualifications sent in to Ottawa. As only two applicants were asked for, I made up excellent reports and sent them off. We got a reply stating that we were accepted, but the marks given were far above that was expected. (I had both of us in the 90’s). The next problem was to pass a medical test. I failed because of very high blood pressure. I knew the Dr. so asked if he could help me. He said he would give me a pill. I was to go into his office early the next day, take the pill and lie down on his medical bed and try to relax. It worked and I was on my way to Belleville, Ontario for Initial Training School…ground school subjects. At the end of the course we were selected for pilot or observer (later changed to navigator) or wireless gunner.

They were very short of observers at that time, and because I had high marks in math, I was selected as an Observer. I went to see the C.O. and told him if I couldn’t be a pilot, I wanted to be put back to ground crew. He relented and I went to St. Eugene, Ontario to train on Fleet Finch aircraft. They resembled World War 1 biplanes.

We were given white flashes to wear in our caps. This denoted that we were aircrew in training and gave us a considerable edge over ground crew with the local girls. Then the ground crew started the rumour that anyone with the white flashes HAD to wear them…it showed that anyone with the “flash” had a venereal disease…our edge disappeared.

I was the second to solo in my class…my instructor told me I could have been first if I had asked. I got a bit of glory from my fellow students…accidentally. I was sent solo to practice loops, rolls, spins, etc. I decided to do a dive, pull up then roll over and go the opposite way. Anyway, I dove, but didn’t get up enough speed and when I got to the top and tried to roll, the aircraft stalled and went into a screaming dive the same way I had started. It must have looked good from the ground because they gathered round me later and asked how it was done. I never told them the truth.

I was sent up another day to practice aerobatics…loops, rolls, spins, etc. Another friend was also sent up to do the same. We saw each other and I flew over to him and ducked under, going the same direction. I stayed directly under him by about 4 to 6 feet for a few seconds, then I moved and got directly over him. Also by just a few feet. He knew where I was and looked up from his cockpit. In looking up he inadvertently pulled slightly up on the control column. His “coop” top hit my aircraft very gently, and scared both of us badly.

When we graduated, we could go to single engines (fighters) or two engines (bombers). I thought it would be good to have an extra engine for safety, so I was sent to #5 Service Flying Training School at Brantford, Ontario. Pilots were in short supply and we were pushed to finish the course. We were allowed 4 hours of solo night time flying. On my first take-off and landings someone crashed on the runway and I spent my whole 4 hours stooging around trying to get a green light to land.

Formation flying was part of our training. When sent solo to practice, we usually headed for Niagara Falls. We got so that we could get really close (closer than allowed), then put one wing directly under the leader’s wing and gently tap his wing with ours.

There were many washouts during this course… only about 30 managed to graduate. One of the failures was a Sgt. Irwin a veteran bush pilot. He didn’t set his gyro to the true north and un-caged it in the wrong direction. He was lost and was washed out.

I finished in the top of the class and was posted to Trenton as an instructor. I went to the C.O. and talk him I had tried my best to graduate and go overseas. He said “If we had to keep the bottom third of the class as instructors, we’d get progressively poorer students. When I got to Trenton, there was a group of pilots wanting to go overseas instead of instructing. This didn’t go over with the top brass and we were grounded for a week or two and then sent to remote stations in Canada.

I was sent to Mossbank, Saskatchewan. We flew mainly Bolingbrokes (Blenheims) Lysanders and Ansons and Harvards on occasion. The Harvards were used mainly for instrument flying. I flew out of Drogue Flight on Lysanders…there are no dual instructions…you were told how it flew and away you went. They were very easy to fly, but impossible to land smoothly. They liked to jackrabbit all over the field if they weren’t trimmed the right way. You had to trim it tail heavy coming in to land and keep the control column firmly ahead, then they greased in. They also had slats and slots in the leading edge of the wings. These were spring-activated and popped out to give extra lift at lower speeds. Being spring-activated, they world pop out at different speeds, so you’d get a sudden lift from one wing or the other and you would come in like a wounded duck.

My Flight Commander was Johnny Calderwood (U.S.A) He had an engine failure and in a panic of sorts, he trimmed the Lysander nose heavy instead of tail heavy, and when he tried to land the aircraft went straight in. He was lucky…his scalp was nearly gone and he broke several bones. At that time, I became the acting Flight Commander. One of the pilots told me he flew the Lysander with the drogue deployed and was able to bounce the drogue off the ground. The drogue, because of the weight of the cable, was generally some 50 feet below the level of the Lysander. One day, I tried this …got the Lysander flying a very low altitude and put it in a steep bank. It seemed the plane was going one way and the drogue the other. I achieved the feat of seeing the drogue bounce off the fields. Unfortunately, the cable crossed the telephone line between Mossbank and Moose Jaw and took it out. The drogue and cable were pulled out and dropped to the ground. We raced back to the field and had a new cable and drogue installed. The police came and tried to find the culprit, but we were unable to help.

Two American pilots in my flight liked to fly an Anson down to the U. S. and pick up cartons of cigarettes. They would land in a farmer’s field, get their cigarettes and come back to Mossbank. On one of their flights, the landing was misjudged and they ran into a fence. The aircraft was not flyable and they were in deep trouble when they got an idea. They drained all the oil out of one engine, then ran it until it seized, then phoned our station to say they’d had an engine failure in the air and when forced to land, hit the fence. They got away with it. These U.S. pilots in a splurge of patriotism on July 4, usurped a jeep and fired red and green Very flares all over the station. (These flares indicated green for landing and red for no landing).

I learned to really rely on instruments early when flying in clouds. I flew into a cloud on an even keel on day…didn’t look at my instruments…thought I was still flying at the same level, but came out of the cloud in a screaming spiral dive. That taught me.

We had a few fatalities at Mossbank. One pilot tried to roll a Bolingbroke…didn’t get it all the way around and crashed, killing all his crew. Another pilot buzzed his girlfriend’s house and pulled up when she didn’t come out. Then he aimed directly for the house and pulled up just before hitting the house. An aircraft doesn’t react immediately and "mushes” slightly before climbing. He hit the roof and was killed. Remember we were very young…18 to 23 years old…and lived it up.

An Australian pilot, Flight Sgt, Keen, had a few too many drinks one night and was taxiing for takeoff when he accidentally pulled the “wheels up” control and the aircraft ended up on one wing. I was “investigating officer” to find the cause. He was a friend and “equipment failure” was my verdict.

 We had a New Zealand pilot by the name of Shaw…his nickname was “The sky’s the limit, Shaw”. He claimed he could get out of the pilot’s seat and fly a Lysander by standing on the struts. He might have done it, but I never tried it.

 My roommate was Bud Stephens from Kelowna. He flew out of drogue flight. One night he asked me to transfer him to the Bombing flight and I told him I would do it right away The next day, however, he took the first flight flying drogues…I took the second. The drogue aircraft would fly along the southern edge of Lake Johnson, some 15 miles to 20 miles in length, at 3000 feet and let down to 1500 feet for the return trip. The gunnery A/C normally had a gunnery instructor as well as 3 student air gunners. Each gunner’s ammo had his own bullets colored, so that hits could be counted. Blue tips, red tips, etc. When the drogue was dropped at the drogue shack, each gunner’s hits were then counted. Quite often, the gunners would finish shooting all their ammo. When finished, the normal procedure was for the gunnery A/C to fly close to us and rock their wings to signify the exercise was over. The gunnery pilots liked to fly under us and suddenly pull up in front of us and the prop wash would send the Lysander out of control and scare the daylights out of it’s crew.

On Bud’s trip down the lake, a new Bolingbroke pilot evidently finished all his students and decided to dive under the Lysander and pull up in front of it. The Bolingbroke kit the drogue’s cable and drew both aircraft together. Bud’s aircraft lost an wing and went into a flick spin, from which he and his operator could not get out. They went straight into the end of the lake and were killed. The Bolingbroke lost 8 to 10 feet for one wing. 3 of its crew parachuted safely and the pilot and gunnery instructor managed to get the Bolingbroke back to base. The drogue operator, I.A.C. Maduk was on his first trip as an operator. I had taken him up the previous day to instruct him on how to work the winch cable and drogue.

It was not unusual to see a tracer fired in our general direction. Some gunners, on getting into the turret, would put their fingers on the firing button before they were ready to fire at the drogue. No drogue aircraft were hit that I was aware of.

When I found out about the accident, I went to the C.O. and told him what I was going to do to the Bolingbroke pilot. The C.O. promptly sent that pilot to another station and I was sent to represent the Royal Canadian Air Force at Bud’s funeral.

Johnny Calderwood came back to the drogue flight after he recuperated. He had to fly a certain number of hours to get his flying pay. He asked me to fly his trips for a while, which I did. We changed my name to his after each trip on the log sheets. He said his “ars” was cutting off washers when he started flying again.

I then transferred to gunnery ships. I had flown some 750 hours on Lysanders. That is more than a month in the air, 24 hours a day. The average time for an exercise was about 40 minutes, so I made some 1000 plus flights in Lysanders.

I’ve always wondered about Bud’s reaction time. He was always very deliberate and took lots of time in making decisions. He would take twice as long as anyone else in eating his meals. One day, he and I were taking an Anson 1 up for some exercise. The Anson was noted for two things…you had to wind the wheels up, and the brakes were controlled by bottled air pressure. You could use up the air pressure very fast taxiing in a strong wind. Bud was 1^st pilot and we started taxiing to a runway. A strong gust of wind caught us from between two hangars and the Anson started to turn into a line of aircraft. The brakes didn’t help and Bud froze on the controls. I reached over and opened the port throttle full and we did a complete ground loop, so no damage was done. We shut down the motors and got into another aircraft.

In addition to flying Bolingbrokes, I test flew various aircraft that had been worked on by mechanics. One day, a pilot grounded an Anson 1 because of power loss on the port engine. It was tested by mechanics and seemed to have full power. I was to test it in the air. My usual procedure was to get a Time magazine and take up anyone who had worked on the aircraft. After testing, if everything went well, I would get the plane up to about 5,000 feet, trim it and let the ground crew fly it while I read Time. The Anson 1 was noted for its inability to climb on one engine, and in addition, it did not have a hydraulic system to raise the undercarriage. It took some 150 turns of a handle to get them up. I took off under full power and got about 10 feet into the air when the port engine cut out. I had already started a mechanic cranking up the wheels. I closed the port throttle and opened it several times, giving us a little power, which kept us in the air. However, the starboard motor started to show that it would no give full power much longer…it was overheating. We had gone about 20 miles by this time at about 15 feet. Lucky for us, there was no obstruction in our flight path. I was able to skid the aircraft slightly to change direction. If I had attempted a turn of any kind, the wing would have caught the ground. Pilots were taught in the event of engine failure on take off, never to attempt a turn under 500 feet. I got the wheels back down and barely made it to a farmer’s field and landed safely. When the port engine was tested again, it had 3 cracked cylinders, which only showed up under flying conditions. We had landed close to a place called “Ticville”. I’ve never met anyone, even from Saskatchewan who has heard of it. Fellow pilots were congratulating me in the Officer’s Mess when the chief flying instructor came over to me and said…” I should ground you, and you know why!” The rule was, if you had to land anywhere but at an airdrome, you landed wheels up. You can replace a plane, but not its crew. He was right, but he really didn’t mean he’d ground me.

Yes, that's me and the wounded aircraft at Ticville.

One day while testing a Lysander, there was an extremely strong wind blowing. I got the plane up to about 5000 feet and pointed it in the direction I thought the wind was coming from. By cutting the power to just keep the plane from stalling, I actually flew backwards across the station.

Vic was born during this time at Moose Jaw. I was living in the town of Mossbank and commuting to the base. I used to fly over the house at about 200 feet to see if Vic was in his carriage enjoying the cold. We had a new Commanding Officer come on to the station, and he was super strict. He had a rule that anyone living off the station had to sigh in before 7:30 A.M. including officers. A friend signed in at 7:29, so I signed in at 7:29 & 30 seconds. I got a week’s orderly officer for that.

I was asked to test a Lysander (single engine) one day. I took off and at about 100 feet the cowling broke loose. If it came off, it would hit the cockpit. I reduced the power to just stay in the air and made a circuit at 100 feet. No problems. A mechanic had forgotten to secure the cowling with a cotter pin. If I had reported the mechanic, he would have received a short term in the brig.

I discovered a gold mine at Mossbank. We would play rap rummy during our lunch breaks and after the last flights of the day. Any winning was entered into a bridge book…you were allowed to lose up to $5.00 per day. On the Officer’s payday, I usually had a fairly good credit…even after mess bills, bar tabs, laundry, etc. was deducted.

I finally got an overseas posting to Burma. The Medical Officer called me in a said he knew I was up at night drinking milk…I had ulcers. After a medical test, he wouldn’t let me go because “there’s no milk available if you’re downed in that area”. So I got a “plum” posting to the experimental station at Suffield. This station was primarily engaged in germ warfare, both chemical and biological. By 1945, Canada was poised to inaugurate germ warfare against Japan. McKenzie King, our Prime Minister, fearing an attack by the Russians, stockpiled over a ton of botulinus toxin. At that time it was the most deadly biological chemical known. There is an excellent book out on Suffield by John Bryden, Deadly Allies: Canada's Secret War 1937-1947 (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart Inc., 1989).

There were only 3 pilots at Suffield and we could goof off as long as we were available for any assigned tasks. One of our jobs was to fly scientists and Army Officers to various establishments. I had to take an Army Officer to Wainwright, Alberta, in a Lysander. There was no field at that time, so we landed in a gopher-holed, dried-up lake bed. To show off to the army, I came in at a very high speed, but used up the entire lake bed…an Army Sergeant put me in my place by telling me that I had used up more of the lake bed than any other pilot had ever done before.

Another time, I had to take a scientist to Calgary. There was thick ground fog all the way. After adjusting for a supposed wind, I came out right over Calgary without the help of radar, etc.

I had to pick up a Group Captain in Regina and take him to Calgary. I had developed a new way to take off in a Bolingbroke without touching the control column. Instead of opening the throttles with my right hand I reached across and opened them with my left hand. I kept the aircraft straight on the runway with the rudder pedals and with the right hand I trimmed the A/C slightly, nose heavy and it just floated off the ground, then at this time I used the control column. When I got back to Mossbank, the C.O. called me in…the Group Captain had phoned to say it was an excellent takeoff, but never do it again.

One of the scientists asked me to take him for a ride. I put him in the nose of the Boston (A.20). It was a bad place to be if you had an accident. We went over to the Brooks irrigation district and I noticed a group of German prisoners of war who were gathered together. The patches on their backs easily identified them. To give the scientist a thrill, I dove on this group at about 50 feet. And made the Germans dive for the ground. I thought it would be great to do it again and came back at about 25 feet. They were ready this time and as we approached, they all threw something into the air…rakes, shovels, stones…and they just missed. I thought I’d be grounded if the C.O. heard about it, but nothing happened.

Another time, I had to take a Boston up for some tests. I did the usual mental check list that I had been taught. If I remember right, it was H.T.M.P.F.C.O.G.G.S

H…Hydraulics working

T…Trim for take-off

M…Mixture

P…Pitch..fine for take-off, course for normal flight

C…Cylinder head temperatures

O…Oil pressure

G…gills closed for take-off, open for normal flight

I forgot the last G& S.

Later, a clipboard was substituted and you checked them off. Anyway, I checked everything and away we went…airspeed was very slow in getting up to take-off. We were running out of runway, the nose gunner was hollering at me to get it up…it was on full power…we got to the end of the runway and I hauled the control column back and we staggered into the air. Something was wrong. I checked all the instruments…we finally tot up to about 300 feet and then I noticed someone had left the supercharger (new to me then) in “high” blower. This meant the engines were getting too much air. I quickly switched it to “low” blower and the aircraft dropped like a stone for a second and then full power came on. After that, I added another “S” to my take-off check…S for Supercharger…low blower. Had I found the problem a second or two sooner (at the lower altitude) we would have crashed. The reason for a supercharge is that at higher altitudes, air is scarcer and the supercharger puts a better fuel/air ratio into the engines.

The Boston was also the first aircraft we had with propellers that could be fully feathered. Up to that time, we had variable pitch props…you had two positions, fine for take-off and coarse for normal flying. No one had tried the fully feathering at our station, so one day, I fully feathered one engine (the prop turns edgewise to the direction of flight and causes no drag)…the prop stops turning but the engine is running. Anyway, I tried turning against the feathered engine…no problem so with the prop fully feathered; I flew back to our station at about 50 feet to show off. Apparently the ground crew thought I was having an emergency and out came the crash tenders…fire trucks and ambulance…no problem.

Another time, another pilot and I took the Mitchell (the type used to bomb Tokyo for the first time) for a four hour tour of North Dakota and Montana. We got hell when we got back because of the huge amount of fuel consumed.

We also experimented with mustard gas and other poisons. We may have been the first to spray green fields with a defoliant. We had huge land areas, so no one was endangered as long as we were sure of the wind direction. Bacterial warfare was probably the main thrust of the experimental station. Anthrax, a fatal disease to cattle and humans, was being tested for use against troops, etc. They developed a gas…anthrax mixed with distilled mustard gas. The mustard gas would cause blisters on the skin and the live anthrax spores would enter the body through these blisters. I did not knowingly participate with anthrax experiments, although I was inoculated against it in case we came in contact with it in a forced landing, etc. (I say knowingly because we only knew about tests by a code name or number, not by real names)

This inoculation took place in a special room set aside for this purpose. I was told there would be a violent reaction for about 10 minutes. Anyway, for about 15 minutes I thought I would die. My whole body felt like it was burning up. It eventually subsided. Medical people were on hand if required. One of my friends had the same inoculation. He said it was like a hot poker was thrust into you and your body was on fire.

The biggest test with mustard gas came late in the war. Conscientious objectors were used as guinea pigs…these troops would do anything for the country except fire at an enemy. They were placed in a huge field. Most of them had holes cut into their uniforms in various places…e.g.…a leg missing, a crotch cut out, a shoulder cut off. By the way, they got an extra 65 cents a day danger pay for this. Ambulances, Doctors etc were standing by to look after anyone in distress. (I forgot…they had gas masks on). It turned out the ones that suffered the most were those with sweat areas missing from their uniforms…under armpits, groins.

In 1944, one of the Germ Warfare scientists came up with the idea of raining showers of poison darts on test animals, mainly sheep and goats. These animals were dressed in 3 layers of heavy serge to simulate a soldier’s uniform. Some of these darts did penetrate up to 6 inches into the flesh, if it did not hit a bone. The bombs were usually a 500 pound cluster type. These held approximately 30,000 darts and an area of 10,000 square yards would be covered.

It was decided to have a large-scale test with these darts in late 1944. I was chosen to be the pilot of a Boston A20 to drop the bomb. This bomb, I believe , was to detonate at 1,000 feet above ground level. Scientists from Canada, U.S.A. and England were on hand. The aircraft was at 10,000 feet and approaching the target area. The bomb aimer gave me the usual instructions…left..left…or right…right..then steady, and then bombs away. We had done everything right, except we did not open the bomb bay doors. Normally, the bomb aimer starts with “Bomb bay doors open”…which the pilot repeats and then the pilot opens the doors. In this case, I started cursing the bomb aimer and he returned the compliments. We were on an open mike to the ground. Anyway, we went around and did it right the second time.

Some 14% of all the tethered animals were killed. A good test a British Major remarked at a briefing a few days later, but then said “do you realize you could have achieved better kill results with just one high explosive shrapnel shell bursting at the same height”. The tests were discontinued in early 1945.

The last inoculation I had turned out to be for Rocky Mountain Spotted fever. This disease is characterized by high fever, pains in the joints, bones, muscles and skin eruptions…the disease is transmitted by ticks.
To get the serum to inoculate you, they would grind ticks in a formaldehyde solution and inject it straight into you. I think the reasoning back of this poison was that it would be possible to lace this disease with anthrax spores and drop it by way of a bomb over the enemy. The Spotted Fever would cause lesions and the anthrax was then fatal.

A brand new Anson 5 was delivered to our station. I wanted to be the first to fly it, so I loaded it with ground crew and went for a flip. After about ½ hour we came in for a landing. There was a strong wind blowing across the runway from the left. Anyway, as we touched down, the aircraft took a jump to the left and almost caused a ground loop. After getting down and reading the literature on the aircraft’s characteristics, I came across the following…”Notice... This aircraft has a tendency to swing left on landing”.

The strong cross-wind just re-enforced this for me.

One day while flight testing the Boston, I put it into a steep dive to see how fast it would go…at the time 250 to 350 miles per hour was fast. I got it up to well over the 450 mark on full power. The m.p.h. needle showed well into the red danger zone. I was thinking that not many people would ever go that fast…how times have changed.

We had a “:Tiger Moth” on the station used mainly for weather checks. It had a warning on the instrument panel…”Caution…this A/C not stressed for aerobatics”. Anyway, I used to take up a ground crew in the rear seat and do loops, spins, etc. …no problem. We also had a Norseman on the station… an amazing airplane…if you could squeeze it in, no matter how heavy, it would fly. The famous bandleader of the day, Glen Miller, took off from England in a fog bound for France in a Norseman with an American pilot …they were never heard from again.

A War Bond drive came to all stations…a movie star would visit the station that sold the most per individual. Ours was a small station and I was nailed to organize the sales. I interviewed every person on the station and we did win. The star who came was Gail Patrick, a beautiful lady. The photographer wanted to get a picture of her, with me in front of an aircraft. I had my arm around her back when she said “why don’t we get everyone in the picture?’ Some seconds later, I was 8 people away from her when the picture was taken. Gail Patrick starred in the Maltese Falcon and also the Hit Parade of 1951

The only time I got home during 1939 to 1945 was the time my brother, Jim, also got leave. He had just finished his 2^nd tour in North Africa…he was a Wireless Air Gunner. Jim was to be on leave until he received notice that he was to return overseas. We had an enjoyable 9 days and one day the phone rang..the 10^th day. Mom answered…a girl from the telegraph office of the C.P.R. was on the line. (Mom did not want Jim to go back overseas)

. The girl said “ I have a telegram for Mr. Henderson”.
Mom replied “which one, there are three?”.
“Mr. J Henderson” said the girl.
Mom replied “which one, there are two?”.
“Flying Officer J. Henderson, the girl persisted.
Mom replied “Which one there are two?”
The girl was a little miffed by this time and said “Flying Officer James Henderson”.

 Jim died recently and the Air Gunners Association wrote this in his obituary: Jim had the occasion to fly for 4 air forces during the war. He flew with the R.C.A.F. He was attached to the R.A.F. and did a tour out of England. He was posted to North Africa and did a tour with the Royal South African Air Force. The fourth air force he flew with was a very short flight. He was returning from a shipping raid when the pilot noticed a group of aircraft flying toward their base. He joined up with them for protection and when they got close, noticed that the planes were German. The pilot immediately put the plane into a steep dive. The Germans, if they noticed at all, did not pursue. The Air Gunners Association noted that Jim’s aircraft was the first plane to exceed the speed of sound in a dive.

Jim’s favourite story about North Africa was about the metal he received for saving over 50 lives. When asked what the metal was for he replied “ I shot the cook”. (I like the story so much I use it myself).

The war in Europe came to an end and the Royal Canadian Air Force started to think about the future. The pilots at the Experimental Station at Suffield were asked …”do you want to stay in the Air Force or not? We want to get good replacements for any of you who do not want to stay”. I elected to get out and have been sorry about that decision ever since.

This poem expresses my feelings for flying and my time in the Air Force.

High Flight
by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

 Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds...and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of...wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
(click for poet information)

Thank you for taking the time to read this bit of history.
Jack Henderson