Leaving 407 Squadron
The next morning after a hearty breakfast, I went for a long walk to consider my future with the R.C.A.F. The rest of the crew were going back to Canada on leave and then would return to # 407 Squadron. However, I had not joined the air force to fly a box car like the Wellington and I figured that this might be my one opportunity to get a posting to my liking. I therefore decided not to return home with the rest, but rather to ask R.C.A.F. Coastal Command Headquarters in London to transfer me to a Coastal Fighter squadron.
That same morning I walked into the personnel office and to my surprise they were very sympathetic to my request and arranged for me to report to an operational training unit where I would train to fly Beaufighter and Mosquito aircraft.
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Beaufighter
That Sunday afternoon I sat in the R.A.F. officers Club on Piccadilly and penned a long letter to my Mom and Dad and tried to explain to them why I wasn't coming home with the rest of the crew. I knew they would be very disappointed, however I was fairly certain they would understand my feelings.
Late Sunday evening we took the night train to Edinburgh and after a few hours sight-seeing, we then took another train on up to Wick. Most of the time on the train was passed playing poker and I recall that Maurice Neil cleaned the rest of us of the balance of the money advanced to us. He then loaned it back to us until we would receive our back pay. We were the first crew of # 407 squadron that had returned alive after being reported missing in action and to celebrate the officer's and sergeant's mess stayed open an extra hour the first night of our return. [A] The other air-crews felt that the squadron jinx had finally been broken.
The adjutant of the station who was responsible for the safekeeping of our personal effects, didn't get to lock up my possessions quite soon enough with the result that several cherished items including my bicycle had disappeared. Fortunately, most of our clothing was intact and we spent our last day at Wick collecting our gear or what was left of it and saying our good-byes to our air and ground crew friends.
The rest of the crew took the train back to London and then went on to Southampton where they would embark on a troop ship to Canada, while I was on my way to Aberdeen for a week's leave before reporting to East Fortune, a small R.A.F. station about thirty miles east of Edinburgh and just south of the Firth of Forth.
Late Sunday evening we took the night train to Edinburgh and after a few hours sight-seeing, we then took another train on up to Wick. Most of the time on the train was passed playing poker and I recall that Maurice Neil cleaned the rest of us of the balance of the money advanced to us. He then loaned it back to us until we would receive our back pay. We were the first crew of # 407 squadron that had returned alive after being reported missing in action and to celebrate the officer's and sergeant's mess stayed open an extra hour the first night of our return. [A] The other air-crews felt that the squadron jinx had finally been broken.
The adjutant of the station who was responsible for the safekeeping of our personal effects, didn't get to lock up my possessions quite soon enough with the result that several cherished items including my bicycle had disappeared. Fortunately, most of our clothing was intact and we spent our last day at Wick collecting our gear or what was left of it and saying our good-byes to our air and ground crew friends.
The rest of the crew took the train back to London and then went on to Southampton where they would embark on a troop ship to Canada, while I was on my way to Aberdeen for a week's leave before reporting to East Fortune, a small R.A.F. station about thirty miles east of Edinburgh and just south of the Firth of Forth.