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Lancaster Crew
The day Les visited the Aviation Museum brought back
memories - a time of deep friendships, a time of terrorÂ…
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"I looked at the turret. It made me remember how cold it
was. Sat there, terrified, 18000 ft up."
Les lives in Gainsborough and is now in his eighties. A joiner
by trade, he still enjoys working with wood and most afternoons
can be found in his garden workshop, creating furniture pieces
for family and friends.
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| Les
in his RAF days |
I
knew there was an aerodrome, near Spilsby somewhere. When someone
suggested we go and visit, I was all for it.
The
car pulled up, I gazed at the vast airfield. I felt it was
1944 all over again.
In
the tea room, I looked at the photographs on the walls. All
the squadrons. All the men. I looked for my squadron, 103,
based at Elsham Woods in North Lincolnshire. Maybe see some
old mates. But they weren't there.
In
the hangar, there she was. A Lancaster. The smell took me
back, that petrolly smell.
The
Lancaster had a crew of 7 - our pilot, navigator, our bomb aimer,
wireless operator and two of us gunners. I was the rear gunner.
We were all teenagers, except for our pilot, Willy Johnson,
he was much older.
But
this plane was empty. I looked at the turret. It made me remember
how cold it was. Sat there, terrified, 18000 ft up.
We
completed eleven bombing raids, the last one in April 1944
when we attacked Berchesgaden - Hitler's hideout in the Austrian
Alps. Somehow, we all got through it.
Towards
the end of the War, we dropped spam to the starving population
of Holland.
My
uniform had been in my wardrobe for 60 years. I often used
to look at it, touch it.
It's in the museum now, with many others. Helping people not
to forget.
by
Les Jackson
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Les's story
