RAF Leeming – The Great North Road (Pt 3).

In the next part of this trail, Leeming enters the jet age, its future still in the balance as many of Britain’s airfields are closed and sold off. But with new aircraft coming on line and a new threat looming from the east, Leeming survives and takes on a new role.

The end of World War 2 saw a Europe devastated by war. The Eastern countries liberated by the Russians had survived the tyranny of the Nazi regime, only to be embroiled in Communist hardship and doctrines. A new threat was emerging as mistrust grew between the Eastern Bloc and the Western Allies. A new Europe would emerge hanging delicately by a fine thread of peace: the Cold War was approaching.

Immediately though, there was little need for many of Britain’s extensive range of wartime airfields, and many were either put in to ‘Care and Maintenance’, sold off or simply closed and left to decay. But this new threat would see some of Britain’s wartime airfields remain open, some turning into missile bases, and some continuing in the air defence or strategic bombing role. For Leeming, this was perhaps, its saviour.

Within a month of the Canadian’s departure, a new unit would arrive at Leeming, not a front line fighter squadron nor a heavy bomber squadron, but a training unit, 54 Operational Training Unit (O.T.U.), which had been operational throughout the war. Flying a range of aircraft types, they were a far cry from the heavies that had preceded them over the last two years or so.

Their arrival in June was heralded by the ferrying in of a number of aircraft types, ranging from Tiger Moths to  Martinets and Wellingtons. Fighters such as the Tempest and Mosquito were also brought in during these early days of post war Leeming. The purpose of 54 O.T.U. was as a night fighter training unit, using ‘modern’ radar sets whose development had started during the war.

But years of neglect and a lack of funding, had meant that many of Britain’s airfields – to which Leeming was no exception – were in a poor state of repair, and much work was urgently needed to bring them up to a good standard. Over the next year or so, major repairs would be carried out. As a priority, the wartime accommodation buildings and now outdated water system were targeted first. Help in doing this was enlisted from German P.O.W.s who were yet to be repatriated, billeting them in the former accommodation blocks within the airfield grounds.

The immediate post war era saw a massive demobbing of forces personnel, this led to a  decline in service manpower, a move that resulted in the 1949 National Service Act. As a result of this act, adults between 17 and 21, were required, by law, to perform 18 months National Service.  This draft led to an influx of untrained personnel, who were brought in to fill gaps in important trades, but short service lengths meant the training was inadequate for many, and so a number of unskilled or poorly skilled personnel were placed in prime engineering positions. This lack of skilled personnel may well have contributed to a number of the many minor and major mishaps that occurred in the R.A.F. in the immediate years following the war.

Training new pilots was a risky business in these post war days, and on November 8th 1946, Pilot – Sqn. Ldr. Noel Dan Halifax R.A.F. (s/n: 33404), and his navigator F.O. Roy Edward Chater R.A.F.V.R. (s/n: 194286) were both killed whilst undertaking a training flight out of Leeming airfield. Chater was one of many young men who had come from the Emanuel College, Cambridge and was 21 years of age at the time of his death*6; his pilot was 27.

On that fateful day, the Mosquito, an NF30  serial number ‘NT266’, departed Leeming  in the late morning on a cross country training flight. Part of this flight took the Mosquito across the moors to the east of Leeming airfield. Whilst over the moors, the aircraft entered thick cloud which may have caused ice to form on the wings and / or control surfaces of the aircraft. The pilot, whilst a veteran of the Second World War and a Colditz inmate, had been in a P.O.W. camp for many years and was possibly inexperienced in both the aircraft type, and the weather conditions in which they were flying. After entering the cloud, the aircraft was then seen by a local farmer to dive in to the ground at Pockley Moor – killing both crewmen outright – the aircraft digging itself into the soft Moorland, where parts of it remain today. The Mosquito, a Leavesden aircraft built under contract 1/576 had only been at Leeming since the July, and was struck off charge as a result of the crash.

On May 1st the following year (1947), following the disbandment and subsequent merging of 54 O.T.U. with 13 O.T.U., a new unit, 228 Operational Conversion Unit (O.C.U.) was formed at Leeming. Flying a mix of piston engined and jet aircraft, it would eventually disband in 1961 before being reformed at Leuchars in Scotland in 1965.

One of the many types operated by the O.C.U. included the Meteor NF.36, a night fighter version of the Meteor that would be fitted with American built radar units. A delay  in supply of these models though meant that their presence would be limited, resulting in the reintroduction of the MK.XXX – a previous version of the aircraft. With a mix of aircraft types and a new influx of engineers, Leeming would soon see a return of the problems experienced by the Canadians only months before during the war.

Specialist tooling, experience in different aircraft and new parts were all once again in short supply, and in early 1948, this combination may well have led to the loss of a second Mosquito along with its pilot. In fact, as the 1940s drew to their close, pilot error and engine problems were commonly recorded as the causes of such accidents.

The O.C.U. would provide the opportunity for crews to convert from one aircraft type to another. The rise in tension in the Middle East (of which my father was to be a part of) saw the introduction firstly of the Brigand conversion course, and later the Mosquito light bomber course. These were then joined by both the Beaufighter and Meteor 7 courses. But these courses were dogged by delays, primarily due to the high number of unserviceable aircraft, created as a result of these aforementioned issues.

The early 1950s saw further changes to the R.A.F.’s training programmes, as squadrons were disbanded crews were posted elsewhere, and the aircraft they had been operating were moved about or scrapped. With much of this occurring at Leeming, the airfield would become a hive of activity. The silver lining on this rather dark cloud though, meant that the older outdated piston engines were disposed of, and more jets were brought in. The R.A.F.’s modernisation could at last perhaps begin.

RAF Leeming

A mix of old and new at Leeming.

On August 13th 1951, one of the most tragic of post war accidents was to happen to two Leeming aircraft – a Wellington and a Martinet both operated by 228 O.C.U. 

The two aircraft were carrying out air interception flights, the Wellington being used to train aircrew in the use of the interception radar, and the Martinet playing the part of the ‘target’. This was seen as an opportunity to give good experience to a group of Air Cadets who were visiting Leeming, both to see how these flights were carried out, and to give them experience in flying – it was meant to be a joyful day, but it sadly turned very sour with no warning.

With Cadets taking turns in each type, the two aircraft departed Leeming, and headed out over the Yorkshire countryside, the Martinet hiding amongst the cloud whilst the Wellington tried to track it.

The MK.XVIII Wellington (PG367) was flying over Husdwell in North Yorkshire with a crew of seven on  board that included one Air Cadet. The Martinet had a crew of two, again one was an Air Cadet gaining flying experience in the aircraft.

All of a sudden, the Martinet appeared of of the clouds colliding with the Wellington who had ironically failed to see him. The two aircraft struck each other, the collision causing the Martinet to immediately fall groundward killing instantly both the Cadet and the pilot. The Wellington meanwhile began to spin and break apart. The tail section, holding the parachutes, broke away leaving the crew stranded in the main fuselage. An experienced member of the crew, Ft. Lt John Alan Quinton (R.A.F.) G.C., D.F.C. managed to locate one parachute, strapped it onto the young cadet before he either fell, or was pushed  out, through the hole left by the now missing tail. 

With no further means of escape, the crew could do nothing but await their fate, one that came within moments and with the inevitable fatal consequences.

Of the nine people on board the two aircraft that day, only one, the cadet, sixteen year old Derek Coates A.T.C., survived, the remaining eight all being killed when the two aircraft hit the ground.

As a result of his actions, Flt. Lt. Quinton was awarded the George Cross posthumously, details being published in the London Gazette on 23rd October 1951:*8

CENTRAL CHANCERY OF THE ORDERS OF KNIGHTHOOD.
St. James’s Palace, S.W.I.
23rd October. 1951.

The KING has been graciously pleased to approve the posthumous award of the GEORGE CROSS to: —

Flight Lieutenant John Alan QUINTON, D.F.C. (115714), Royal Air Force, No. 228  Operational Conversion Unit.

On August the 13th, 1951, Flight Lieutenant Quinton was a Navigator under instruction in a Wellington aircraft which was involved in a midair collision. The sole survivor from the crash was an Air Training Corps Cadet who was a passenger in the aircraft, and he has established the fact that his life was saved by a supreme act of gallantry displayed by Flight Lieutenant Quinton, who in consequence sacrificed his own life. Both Flight Lieutenant Quinton and the cadet were in the rear compartment of the aircraft when the collision occurred. The force of the impact caused the aircraft to break up, and as it was plunging towards the earth out of control, Flight Lieutenant Quinton picked up the only parachute within reach, and clipped it on to the cadet’s harness. He pointed to the rip cord and a gaping hole in the aircraft, thereby indicating that the cadet should jump. At that moment a further portion of the aircraft was torn away and the cadet was flung through the side of the aircraft clutching his rip cord, which he subsequently pulled and landed safely. Flight Lieutenant Quinton acted with superhuman speed, displaying the most commendable courage and self-sacrifice as he well knew that in giving up the only parachute within reach, he was forfeiting any chance of saving his own life. Such an act of heroism and humanity ranks with the very highest traditions of the Royal Air Force, besides establishing him as a very gallant and courageous officer who, by his action, displayed the most conspicuous heroism.

Since then, a memorial has been dedicated to those who died, so their names may live on and so that the tragic accident may never be forgotten.

It was during this early part of the 1950s, that it was decided to upgrade Leeming to accept more jets, a new perimeter track and an extension to the runway was needed, better radio networks and accommodation blocks were required. Work began over the winter of 1951/52 which caused major disruption for those stationed at the base; so to allow flying to continue, it was decided to transfer the O.C.U. to RAF Coltishall. To add insult to injury, the snow and bad weather of 1951/52 further delayed the transfer of the O.C.U., the process not being completed until February at the earliest. By the summer though, work was almost completed and the O.C.U. returned now having in excess of 40 Meteors on its books. Leeming had now properly entered the jet age.

The increase in world tensions and improvements to the Air Force’s readiness, saw many reviews of the training programmes. Leeming’s wing was divided into three squadrons, each one focusing on a different aspect of flying training. Students would pass though each section before being allocated to an operational unit.

During the mid 50’s yet more work was carried at Leeming, including resurfacing of runways, a new airfield lighting system and further extensions to the accommodation areas. A new Vampire also emerged, the T.II, and new a Meteor, the NF.12.

1956 would see the jet age take a step further, with more new models arriving at Leeming destined for the O.C.U., that of Gloster’s Delta winged Javelin F.A.W.5.  To deal with the lack of trained crews required by the increase in numbers of squadrons waiting to transfer over to the Javelin, a ground training section was created within 228 O.C.U. – that of the Javelin Mobile Training Unit (J.M.T.U.) in early 1957.

Set up using simulators and radar equipment in caravans, a flying classroom was provided in one of two Vickers Valletas, a twin engined aircraft used to replace the Dakotas used in wartime. Gradually over time, a dedicated trainer version of the Javelin was brought in, the T.3, which meant that by 1959, the J.M.T.U. was no longer required, and it was disbanded.

The Javelin’s ingress into squadron life was slow,  until the September of 1957, when 33 Squadron (reformed following the disbandment of 264 Sqn) arrived at Leeming. Initially bringing more Meteors, they transitioned over to the Javelin F.A.W. 7 in the summer of the following year. Based on a design requirement F.44/46 for a twin-seat all weather / night fighter, the Javelin was developed into over ten different marks before its production was finally curtailed.

33 Sqn would not stay long though, apart from a short revisit it departed Leeming a year later, moving to Middleton St. George, now Durham Tees Valley Airport.

The transference to the Javelin was now happening in earnest, and with so many front line squadrons converting to the Javelin, it was imperative that training was increased. However, politics would play their part in the downfall of 228 O.C.U. and its eventual, but temporary, demise. With somewhere in the region of over eighty aircraft operated by the squadron, Duncan Sandy’s 1957 Defence White Paper would see RAF units cut back once more as numbers were reduced in light of perceived changes in the style and nature of any future nuclear war. The O.C.U. was therefore, disbanded in 1962 after it had moved to Middleton St George, its role ceasing after many years of active and all but unbroken duty since 1929.

The White Paper of 1957 is often considered as one of aviation’s greatest scythes cutting five major aircraft projects and two engine development programmes.  The first of these, the Avro 730 was followed by, the Saunders-Roe SR.177, the Short Seamew (a small lightweight anti-submarine aircraft), the Fairey Delta 3 Long Range Interceptor and the The Hawker P.1121. The Lightning was also hit hard but survived the cull to fill the gap between manned interceptors and ground to air missiles. Whilst cancelling these projects others did survive, the thin Wing Javelin (cancelled post White paper), the Hunter, and of course the Harrier, a remarkable leap in aviation*9.

A number of visiting units stopped by at Leeming during this turbulent time of the late 1950s / early 1960s. This brought a lot of aircraft and a lot of personnel, which Leeming, as an already cramped base, could not ideally hold. But the extensive range of aircraft must have made for excellent viewing for those interested in aviation.

Following the departure of 228 O.C.U., Leeming would immediately be occupied by another unit. The arrival of No. 3 Flying Training School (F.T.S.), under the control of 23 Group Flying Training Command.

In the last part of this trail, we see how Leeming became a front line operational station, giving up the training role to accommodate the R.A.F.’s modern front line fighter of the time the Tornado.

The full Trail can be seen in Trail 57.

Rear Gunner Flight Sergeant Nicholas S. Alkemade, 115 Squadron RAF

There have been many stories about bravery and acts of courage in all the Armed Forces involved in war. Jumping out of a burning aircraft at 18,000 ft without a parachute must come as one of those that will live on in history.

There have been a number of recorded incidents where this has occurred, and the crew member involved has lived to tell the tale. On the night of March 23rd/24th 1944, such a thing happened, and to the astonishment of both the Germans and the crew member, who survived to tell the tale.

Flt. Sgt. Nicholas  Stephen (Nico Stephan) Alkemade was born the 10th December 1922 (believed to be North Walsham, Norfolk, England), and was just twenty-one years old on that eventful night. He was stationed at RAF Witchford in Cambridgeshire, England and operated as a rear gunner in a Lancaster bomber.

On the night of the 23rd March 1944, the squadron was called to report to briefing to find that their mission for that night would be Berlin, the heart of Germany. They would form part of an 811 strong force made up of Lancasters, Halifaxes and Mosquitoes. This was to be the final run over Berlin.

Later that night, Alkemade climbed into the rear turret of his 115 Squadron, Lancaster ‘DS664’ named ‘Werewolf‘ and prepared himself for the coming raid which was to be his 13th mission.

Once over Oberkochen, nr, Frankfurt, Germany, the aircraft was attacked by Luftwaffe Ju 88 night-fighters, it caught fire and began to spiral out of control.

Now fearing for his life, the aircraft burning furiously, he looked round for his parachute. Turrets being notoriously small, he was not wearing it and would have to find it from inside the fuselage and put it on before exiting the aircraft.

He found himself surrounded by fire, the heat melting his mask and his skin burning. The fuselage was by now a massive fire. It was at this point, that he noticed his parachute no longer on the rack but burning on the floor of the aircraft. In his recount later in life, he describes how he felt:

“For a brief moment I stared while it dissolved before my eyes. It was not so much a feeling of fear, or dismay, or horror, as a sensation, a sort of twisting in the stomach”.

The fire reached his turret, his clothes scorched, now began to burn. With two options, die in an inferno or jump, he rotated the turret, elbowed open the hatch and fell back, he was 18,000 feet (5,500 m) up. As he fell, he could see the stricken Lancaster explode, then the stars beneath his feet. As he gained momentum, breathing became difficult, again his account reads:

‘Funny, I thought, but if this is dying, it’s not so bad . Then the rushing air, the stars, the ground, the sky, all merged and were forgotten as unconsciousness crept over me…’

Three hours later, Alkemade opened his eyes and looked at his watch, it read 3:25. He had jumped just after midnight. cautiously, he moved each part of his body to find everything was alright, if not a little  stiff.

It was at this moment he realised what he had done and that he was lying beneath pine tress in snow. It was these trees and snow that had saved his life. Cold and unable to move, he needed help.  Taking out his whistle, he blew hard, and continued with alternate blows and smokes of his remaining cigarettes, until found, unfortunately for him, by a German patrol.

The Gestapo interrogated Alkemade, at first in disbelief of his story, but after examining the wreckage of his aircraft, they found the remains of his parachute and were so amazed by his escape, they (reputedly) gave him a certificate in acknowledgement of his testimony.

He was taken to Stalag Luft 3, North Compound, in Poland, and was given Prisoner number: 4175. On the night he jumped, 76 men escaped from the very same prison, an event that became known as ‘The Great Escape’.

Alkemade’s stay was initially very unpleasant, spending days in solitary confinement for being a spy. He was eventually billeted amongst other airmen in the very same hut that one of the tunnels was dug from. He, like other prisoners, was given a diary which was his only and most prized possession. In it he wrote about the boredom and monotony of prison life. He became friends with the artist Ley Kenyon, who added illustrations to his diary.

Sporadic letters from home kept his spirits up, and eventually the Allies reached the camp and he was set free.

Alkemade found out later that the Lancaster had crashed, killing the pilot Jack Newman and three other members of the crew. Both the wireless operator and Navigator survived being thrown clear on impact. The deceased are all believed to be buried in the CWGC’s Hanover War Cemetery. Alkemade was repatriated in May 1945. Post war he returned to Leicestershire, where he married Pearl with whom he had been sending letters and was employed initially in a chemical works (where he survived 3 chemical accidents) and then as a furniture salesman until his death on June 29th 1987, in Cornwall.

Nicholas Alkemade’s story, along with his whistle, is recorded in the RAF Witchford display along with artefacts and other personal memorabilia from the crews and staff of the airfield. His diary and letters remain with his son in their Leicestershire home. Pictures from his diary were published in the ‘Leicester Mercury’ Newspaper, November 2013.

For more information about RAF Witchford see Trial 11.

alkemade

Sgt. Nicholas Alkemade

Colonel Thomas J.J. Christian Jnr. 361st FG RAF Bottisham.

 

Colonel Thomas J.J. Christian Jnr. (s/n: O-21782) (IWM UPL 18211)

Born Thomas Jonathan Jackson Christian, jr., on November 19th 1915 in San Francisco, Colonel Christian would become known as ‘Jack’ and would have a distinguished military career.

He was the great-grandson of “Stonewall” Jackson, an outstanding commander of the Confederate army in the American Civil War, and he was the son of a Brigadier-General – the military ethos ran thick through his veins.

Christian graduated from Chicago University High School in 1933 after which he went on to University where he studied for a further two years.

After graduating, he then went on to West Point, where in 1939, he chose to follow in his father’s footsteps into Field Artillery. Here he was appointed as a Second Lieutenant. Not long after though he changed his mind, being drawn to the idea of flying, and the Army Air Corps.

He studied initially at the Texas Air Corps Flying School in Love Field, Dallas, transferring to the the Air Training Corps Centre at Randolph Field, Texas. From here, he progressed to the Air Corps Advanced Flying School based at Kelly Field located in San Antonio. By 1940, he had passed and was assigned as an instructor back at Randolph Field.

His first overseas posting came in March 1941, when he was sent to the 19th BG at Clark Field in the Philippines. Here he flew the heavy bomber the B-17 Flying Fortress until the Outbreak of war, and the Bombing of Pearl Harbour and its surrounding airfields by the Japanese. He was then reassigned to Australia via a posting at Bataan. His job here was to ferry P-40 fighters.

It was during one these flights that he was shot down and declared missing. Protected and guided by the natives of the Timor Coast, he managed to find his way back to base.

In 1942, Christian was reassigned again, this time to fly fighters with the 67th Pursuit Squadron. operating out of Henderson Field, he achieved the Silver Star for his gallantry flying over 60 hours of combat flights in a Bell P-400.

In Early 1943, Christian returned to the United States, where he married Marjorie Lou Ashcroft, a woman he had met in Dallas. It was here that the now Major Christian, would join the 361st FG, becoming their first Commanding Officer. The 361st were constituted on January 28th, being activated just two weeks later. Assigned to the Eighth Air Force, it would be the last of twelve Fighter Groups to fly the P-47 Thunderbolt.

The unit trained and transited from Richmond AAB in Virginia, through Langley Field, Millville New Jersey, back to Richmond and then, via the Queen Elizabeth, on to Bottisham in England. At Bottisham, Christian flew with his men, leading them on their first operational mission on January 21st 1944, eleven months after they had been formed. It was during this very month, that Christian would become a father, his daughter being named Lou Ellen.

His first aircraft at Bottisham was P-47 ’42-75494′ coded E2-C, and he called it ‘Lou‘ after his baby girl. He had a picture of a crawling baby painted on its nose, a tribute to the baby he hadn’t yet seen.  Throughout his flying career with the 361st, Colonel Christian would fly three aircraft (successively named Lou, Lou III and Lou IV). The second aircraft 42-106787 and third 44-13410 were both P-51 Mustangs.

In March 1944, he was promoted to Colonel, he was still just 28 years of age. Whilst leading the 361st, Christian would fly over seventy combat missions his final and fatal one being on August 12th 1944.

On that day, Colonel Christian was flying his latest aircraft, P-51 ‘Lou IV’ 44-13410 in a ground attack role against the marshalling yards at Boisleux-au-Mont in France. Over the target area, accurate and heavy ground fire made flying difficult, and it was probably this that brought down his plane causing it to crash. Colonel Christian never survived and was killed in the crash, he was just twenty-eight years old.

During this military career Colonel Christian would be awarded the: American Defence Medal: Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal; Philippine Defence Ribbon; European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal; Distinguished Flying Cross with 1 Oak Leaf Cluster; Air Medal with 3 Oak Leaf Clusters; World War II Victory Medal; Croix de Guerre; Silver Star and the Purple Heart.

Just weeks before the crash, Christian had taken part in a photo shoot with three other P-51s from Bottisham, which affectionately became  known as the ‘Bottisham Four’, the group appearing numerous times. The photo since became a tribute to Christian, and all that he had achieved.

At Bottisham, on what was one of the former accommodation sites, is a further tribute to Colonel Christian, a Lych Gate style memorial, it is sadly now missing its top, but was unveiled on 10th October 1955 by his daughter.

RAF Bottisham

A tribute at Bottisham to Colonel Thomas Christian.

Thomas Christian appears in the Tablets of the Missing in the Ardennes American Cemetery and on the Memorial at Neuville-en-Condroz Liège in Belgium. He also has several cenotaph memorials in the Texas State Cemetery, Austin Travis County, Texas and also in the Stonewall Jackson Memorial Cemetery, Lexington, Virginia. Christian’s body has never been recovered.

Marjorie Lou, Thomas’s wife died in 1984 aged 66, whilst his daughter Lou Ellen died in 2011 aged 67.

RAF Bottisham appears in Trail 55 – Around Newmarket.

Sources.

Find a grave website.

American Air Museum Website

Loss of Mosquito FBVI ‘NS828’ RAF Swanton Morley.

Memorial to Fl. Lt. J Paterson and Fl. Lt J. Mellar

On April 25/26th 1944, 487 Sqn (RNZAF) moved from RAF Gravesend to RAF Swanton Morley in Norfolk, taking with them D.H. Mosquitoes. They had only been at Gravesend a few days when news of the new move came through.

487 Sqn had previously been involved in ground attacks on German airfields across the occupied countries, and in several high profile missions. In particular, during the previous February, they had been involved in Operation ‘Jericho‘, the attack on the Amiens Jail, in France. It was also a Methwold based Ventura piloted by Squadron Leader Leonard H. Trent, who, on 3rd May 1943, had led the Squadron in a disastrous daylight attack on the power station at Amsterdam. As a result of his actions that day, Sqn. Ldr. Trent received the V.C., the highest honour bestowed on personnel of the armed forces.

On their arrival at Swanton Morley, 487 Sqn would immediately begin training for new air operations, their part in the forthcoming D-day invasion at Normandy, with the first flights taking off the following day.

On April 27th three ‘targets’ were chosen, the Grimston Range not far away from Swanton Morley, the Bradenham Range in the Chilterns, and lastly the Army Gunnery School site at Stiffkey, on the North Norfolk coast. Each of these were to be ‘attacked’ in cross country sorties by the Mosquitoes.

In one of those Mosquitoes ‘EG-A’ was Pilot Flight Lieutenant John Charles Paterson (NZ/2150), and his Navigator Flight Lieutenant John James Spencer Mellar (s/n: 49175) both of the R.N.Z.A.F.

The day’s sortie went well, until the return flight home was made. It was on this leg of the flight that the port engine of the Mosquito, a Hatfield built FBVI ‘NS828’ under contract 555/C.23(a), began to overheat.

Immediately Flt. Lt. Paterson feathered the engine – now flying on just one. The Mosquito was lined up on approach to Swanton Morley for a single-engined landing, but all did not go well. Unfortunately,  instead of putting the aircraft down on the runway, the aircraft overshot the airfield crashing into a field beyond, the resultant accident killing both pilot and navigator instantly.

The Operational Record Book (AIR 27/1935/31) for April 27th states:

“Formation dive bombing on Grimstone [sic] range. Low level bombing on Bradenham Range. Formation cross country with air to sea firing practice off the coast at Wells. In the evening six aircraft carried out formation attacks on gun positions at an army Gunnery School at Stiffkey. Returning from this ‘A’, F/Lt. Paterson developed engine trouble and feathered the airscrew.  In attempting to land, he overshot and crashed. F.Lt. Paterson and his navigator F. Lt. Mellar, were both killed.”

Since then, a memorial has been erected in memory of the two men, located on the side of the B1110 Dereham Road just outside the village of North Elmham in Norfolk, it stands not far from the site of the crash site, west of Swanton Morley airfield. After the crash, Flt. Lt. Paterson’s body was buried at Shepperton Church Cemetery, whilst Flt. Lt. Mellar was buried at Brookwood Military Cemetery plot 24. D. 20.

Flight Lieutenant Mellar was 29 on the date of his passing, he was the son of William Edward and Eleanor Mellar; and husband of Dorothy Freda Mellar. Flight Lieutenant Paterson was 24 years of age, he was the son of John Alexander and Alice Louise Paterson, of Papakura, Auckland, New Zealand, and husband of Doris Josephine Paterson, of Shepperton.

Swanton Morley appears in Trail 38.