Library Reference Number: 051
Coincidence - or When Our Paths Cross
Saltire Branch member Harry Fisher ponders on how many times have other persons (before becoming known to us) already crossed our paths, sometimes in quite hazardous situations.
"Having been shot down over France in April 1944, my only other surviving crew-member of that event is our Rear-Gunner, whom I met up with again in 1991. Before joining this ill-fated crew however, I had flown with an earlier aircrew, and on 15/9/43 we had taken off on a practice bombing exercise from Downham Market, in a Stirling 3 'IT EF425 of No.218 (Gold Coast) Squadron. The aircraft swung on take-off, left the runway, and in the process badly disrupted FIDO (fog dispersal system), which in turn damaged the aircraft rudder, control.
We continued to career at high speed over the grass virtually out of control, until eventually the undercarriage collapsed. The aircraft finally came to rest with a broken back, a complete write-off! No one was injured apart from the Flight Engineer who had a few cuts and bruises. I can distinctly remember getting out of that wrecked aircraft in double quick time, as in these situations the risk of fire from escaping fuel was always a sudden hazard. While we had all convinced ourselves that we were o.k. I found that having scrambled well clear of the aircraft, I was almost incapable of striking a match to light a cigarette until some time after evacuating the plane. In any case, we had to report to the M.O. and were instructed to get airborne again the following morning.
Unfortunately, the following month (October 1943) due to a sports injury, I was admitted to the RAF General Hospital in Ely. During my absence, the crew went on to complete their tour of operational flying. The tour requirements had been cut from 30 ops to 25 ops, on instructions from Bomber Command Headquarters. This was seen as a morale-booster, for over the past four months, not a single aircrew from 218 Squadron had survived to reach the required 30 operations. The Squadron casualty rate was horrific, and despite my crew attempting to have me join them on a rest period on completion of a tour, this request was not granted. The only consolation I had, was having my photograph taken with them. A copy of which was sent to me recently following a phone conversation with my Bomb-Aimer from Sydney, Australia. He phoned me from out of the blue recently, after parting almost 60 years ago.
Getting back to the situation in 1943, as a spare Wireless Operator, I was sent back to a Heavy Conversion Unit at Stradishall to find a Pilot. This turned out to be a regular officer named Poulter, who dropped rank from acting Wing Commander to enable him return to operational flying. I reckon we had been picked out as members of his crew, as having previous experience of ops, and we returned to 218 Squadron at Woolfox Lodge. Sadly, it turned out our previous experience wasn't much help, as we were shot down over France just four weeks later. I remember he reached down to tap me on the shoulder to order me to jump from the burning aircraft, but he went down with the plane. He was considered 'old' at that time - 28 years of age.!Returning to the title of this story, there are now only two of us from my second crew who were involved in being shot down, the other survivor being the Rear Gunner who lives in Nottingham. Not having seen him since we baled out over France, I managed to make contact with him in 1991. Although unknown to each other before he joined me as a member of my second crew, we were reminiscing about our respective time at Downham Market airfield. He went on to relate how he was almost killed at that air base. Apparently, he was taking a short-cut across the airfield - strictly against regulations - when, in his own words This bloody great aircraft, obviously out of control, came careering over the grass heading straight towards us. There was a mad scattering and diving out of the way on our part. We got the biggest scare of our lives.'All I could do after that dramatic outburst was to say quietly "That was me with my first crew." That was obviously the first time he was aware that I had been in that runaway aircraft. To think that I had subsequently joined up with five of the guys we had earlier almost mown down, flown with them, been shot down with them, and remained unaware of their identities until now. As the title of this tale suggests, our paths had previously crossed, and most certainly in the strictly literal sense!"