CHAPTER FIFTEEN

INSTRUCTING AND A ROMANCE

Johnnie Devine and I were posted to the Coastal Command No 7 Operational Training Unit at Limavady on the shores of Loch Foyle in Northern Ireland. I was to be a flying instructor and Johnnie a navigation instructor. Unfortunately we parted from Dannie Daniels who went to a radar school as an instructor. The town of Limavady was the birthplace of William Massey , Prime Minister of New Zealand at the early part of the 20th Century.

I was at the O.T.U. there for six months. My role was to screen new crews on what we called O.F.E's (operational flying exercises). They were navigation exercises usually of about five and-a-half hours from Limavady to the north of Scotland keeping out to sea to the west of the Outer Hebrides Islands. The exercises were always flown at night, quite often in most unpleasant weather. It is much more tiresome watching an under-training pilot flying and keeping on eye on the crew's procedures than it is flying the aeroplane oneself. And the aeroplanes while quite serviceable , were not as good as those on operational squadrons.

One night the weather deteriorated so badly that I took over the flying myself because the approach to Limavady was difficult. Landfall on Northern Island could be made on a flashing beacon, the Morse coding of the flashes was changed every three hours and the position of the beacon was changed daily so that it could not be used by enemy U Boats as a navigation aid. We were, of course, briefed before take-off on the beacon's location and the Morse letter it was flashing. We had no instrument landing system in those days so once the landfall was made altitude had to be reduced to have sufficient visibility to fly along the shore of Loch Foyle until adjacent to the Limavady aerodrome. The approach in poor visibility at night was tricky because there was a mountain 1000ft high on the inland side of the circuit which was normally flown at 1000ft. Standard procedure is to fly a left-hand circuit, that is turning left around the aerodrome because in a multi-engined aeroplane that gives the pilot ,who flies from the left-hand seat of the cockpit, the clearest view of the runway. But at Limavady a right hand circuit was always authorized by flying control if the cloud base was below the 1000ft height of the mountain ,as it was that night.

On another occasion one of our aircraft on night training struck the top of the mountain which, fortuitously was quite flat. That aeroplane skidded to a standstill on its belly. The crew walked away from the wreck. The cloud base was not low although visibility was hazy.

I did 125 hours flying as an instructor at Limavady. The O.T.U moved to Haverford West in South Wales in January 1944. All instructors were not required for flying the Wimpys over to Wales. But we had an Anson twin-engined aeroplane at Limavady which none of our pilots had flown. I volunteered to take it. One of the senior n.c.o. fitters showed me the controls.Then off I went solo across the Irish Sea to Wales keeping a navigation plot on my knee. The Anson had a retractable undercarriage but it was not hydraulic. It had to be lowered by making one hundred turns of a crank handle adjacent to the pilot's seat. It was a tedious job when making an approach to an aerodrome. I landed safely at Haverford West.

Limavady is most memorable for me because there I fell in love with a Waaf (Women's Auxilliary Air Force), Annette Buttifant, an L.A.C.W. (Leading Aircrafts Women) M.T. (motor transport) driver.Her principal duty was to drive aircrew in her 15 cwt Bedford van. I first met her when she came to the officers' mess to drive me to my aeroplane at dispersal. Limavady, because of its relative isolation allowed both officers and other ranks to attend station dances. Annette and I danced together and frequently went on outings when we were both off duty. We enjoyed going to nearby Londonderry because there was a restaurant which was probably the only one in Britain serving grilled steak. And no ration coupons were required. There was an officers' club in Londonderry to which we were allowed to take other rank Waafs. So we occasionally had a meal there. We went there one evening after I had played rugby for an Air Force team against the Navy. Annette had come along to watch the game.But I hobbled to the club, partly due to injuring my ankle in the match and partly due to a lack of fitness because I had not played rugby since my schooldays.

We were married on February 16,1944 at the Parish Church in Reigate by the Rev Richard Talbot. Annette's bridesmaid was one of the Limavady Waafs, Irene Foot, a Scottish lass. Johnny Devine was my best man. Dannie Daniels and a couple of New Zealand pilots with whom I became mates on the voyage from New Zealand to England also attended.

Over the reredos in the church we draped a New Zealand Ensign and a Union Jack. I had borrowed the New Zealand flag from the New Zealand High Commission office in London .I asked Danny Daniels the day before the wedding to seek out a Union Jack in Reigate. Neither the Borough Council nor the Police Station had one we could borrow. It became a joke with us that finally he procured one from the local undertaker. None of us was superstitious so the source of the flag was not regarded as a fateful omen. But we kept it secret from the womenfolk.

Annette and I honeymooned in Torquay , a seaside resort in Devon. Lord Nuffield, head of the Morris motorcar company, was a very generous benefactor to the forces. He paid the honeymoon hotel bills of aircrew on active service.Naturally, I was most grateful. After the honeymoon we returned to the O.T.U. at Haverford West. We had to accept the fact that Annette had to be accommodated in the Waafs' quarters while I had to be in the officers' mess. We had not had time to seek permission to live off station.