A web log, an æthereal scrap-book if you will, with a somewhat vintage flavour. News items, occurrences, experiences, thoughts and opinions related to Victoriana through to Fifties Americana can all be found here.
Back to Hawker Hurricanes again for this next story, featuring the extraordinary recovery of eight airframes that have been found buried in woodland just outside Kyiv, Ukraine. While the almost-too-good-to-be-true story of Spitfires and Mosquitoes buried in Burma a few years ago turned out to be just that, with no physical evidence of such aircraft being found, this tangible discovery - as first reported back in July 2023 - is far more promising and all the more remarkable since it is occurring in the middle of an active warzone.
Hawker Hurricane II ’11 white’ recreation, on display in ‘Victory Park’, Museum of the Great Patriotic War, Poklonnaya Hill, Moscow, Russia.
That has not deterred the members of the National Aviation Museum of Ukraine who took advantage of an unexploded bomb disposal nearby to locate the remains of the eight aircraft and begin excavations, with the aim to retrieve as many parts as possible in order to hopefully recreate one complete aeroplane. How far they have progressed in the intervening eight months it is not possible to say; the museum is unsurprisingly closed for the duration so I expect work is severely limited but it would be nice to think that the parts could eventually be reassembled into a full-scale display once all the unpleasantness is over.
A Hawker Hurricane Mark IIB, Z5253 'GA-25' of No. 134 Squadron RAF taxies out past Russian sentries at Vaenga, near Murmansk, October 1941. Several British squadrons were originally sent out to train Russian pilots before handing the Hurricanes over to them.
I take my hat off to the museum's volunteers, who must have been working under immense pressure - and probably not a little danger - to get these relics to safety and so begin the job of sorting through the parts needed to create a complete Hurricane. Cleaning, repairing and cataloguing are strenuous undertakings at the best of times but what it must be like with the evils of war hanging over you is almost unimaginable. That these men are driven to rescue these long-abandoned machines, with the desire to return one to period condition in honour of the brave [Ukrainian] pilots who flew them on the Eastern Front during the German invasion of Russia, is more than admirable and I wish them every success in their endeavour (when the situation permits) - stay safe, gentlemen!
A heart-warming story from April 2023 now, featuring remarkable WWII RAF veteran Bernard Gardiner who, for his 101st birthday, took a flight - and what's more after nearly 80 years, the controls! - of the world's only two-seater Hawker Hurricane.
As well as being a well-deserved and very apt gift for Mr Gardiner's milestone this was also something of a "thank you" not only for his admirable service during the war but also his role as a patron of the Hawker Typhoon Preservation Group, a charity set up in 2016 with the aim of returning an example of another of Hawker's famous Second World War aircraft - the Typhoon fighter-bomber - to airworthy status.
The Typhoon, which first flew in February 1940 and entered service in 1941, was intended to be the replacement for the Hurricane and was initially deployed as a pure fighter to counteract the German Focke-Wulf 190 which was outclassing almost everything the Allies could put up against it. Although it proved to be the equal of the Fw190, especially at low level, some early structural design flaws held it back and it was subsequently switched to the roles of low level ground attack and interception. Armed initially with six .303in machine guns, then later four 20mm cannons, the Typhoon was also able to carry up to 2,000lbs in bombs or eight wing-mounted rockets making it a formidable foe against German armour and reinforced positions. The Typhoon continued in this multi-role function for the remainder of the war, finally being retired in October 1945. Prior to that however, in September 1942, it begat the Tempest - a development of the original Typhoon design (indeed early examples were referred to as the Typhoon II) that was intended to be more of a true fighter aircraft than the Typhoon (or "Tiffie" as it was affectionately known). The Tempest would go on to become one of the most powerful piston-engined aircraft of the war - at low level the fastest single-seat propellor-driven aircraft of the time, so fast that it was easily able to deal with V1 flying bombs and even Messerschmitt's jet-powered 262.
Flight Lieutenant Walter Dring, commander of "B" Flight, No. 183 Squadron RAF, with his Typhoon Mark IB, R8884 "HF-L", in a dispersal at Gatwick, Sussex. source - IWM
Unlike the Tempest, of which there is one airworthy survivor (which made its maiden flight only last October following seven years of restoration) and at least three around the world currently undergoing restoration to flying condition, there is currently only one extant (static) example of a Typhoon - MN235, which over the last few years has been on display at the Smithsonian National Air & Space Museum in Washington D.C., the RAF Museum at Hendon, the Canada Aviation & Space Museum in Ottawa and - at the moment - the RAF Museum London. All that will hopefully change soon, though, thanks to the hard work of Hawker Typhoon Preservation Group which is aiming to restore Typhoon MkIB RB396 to airworthy condition so that people can see this remarkable (and, in relation to the Spitfire or Hurricane, somewhat forgotten) Second World War aeroplane take to the skies again in honour of those, like Bernard Gardiner, who flew them. After a pause of a couple of years due to the pandemic work has restarted and continues apace; with luck and thanks to the HTPG we (and hopefully Mr Gardiner!) may yet see a Tiffie in the air once more.
For part two of my umbrella-themed post we pick up from where we left off in part one with a further fictional proponent of umbrella self-defence, something of a 21st century John Steed in many respects and another welcome practitioner of Bartitsu-inspired moves in film.
This is the character of Harry Hart (Codename: Galahad) from the Kingsman series of films. A slightly more updated take on the gentleman spy genre it nevertheless successfully (in my view) mixes the traditional and modern elements and nowhere is that better illustrated than in the Kingsmen's (and Harry Hart's in particular) dapper style, tailor's shop base of operations and - yes, you've guessed it - wielding of a tightly-furled umbrella. Although quite adept at belabouring gobby villains and megalomaniacs' henchmen with his trusty gamp Galahad's example also has a few more novel tricks up its shaft compared to Steed's hidden rapier, including an electric-shock chain built into the ferrule, the ability to fire both live or rubber bullets and - the pièce de résistance - a bullet-proof canopy.
While the cartoon violence and strong language of the Kingsman films may not appeal to everyone's taste I think it is more than offset by the style and panache displayed in both films (although I do prefer the first one over The Golden Circle) and the successfull homage to the '60s spy films and TV series (including The Avengers) that director Matthew Vaughn has gone on record as having been his intention. Fellow fans of the films - and especially of the well-dressed "gentleman spy" æsthetic and "manners maketh man" ethos - will be pleased to know that a third and final sequel featuring Colin Firth's and Taron Egerton's characters is in the works. Even more exciting, though, is the forthcoming prequel The King's Man, set around the First World War and showing the origins of the Kingsman Secret Service. Originally due for release back in February, covid-19 put the kybosh on that and it is now scheduled to be in cinemas early next year (provided things improve, of course). You'll remember when I apologised for raking up the 1998 Avengers film in my previous post by saying that if you still liked the idea of Ralph Fiennes in three-piece suit, bowler hat and topped off with an umbrella then to hold that thought? Well here he is again, nearly 25 years later (and looking quite at home in a variety of dashing ensembles) taking over the Colin Firth role as one of the founding Kingsmen in what is a very exciting-looking trailer (complete with a couple of umbrella action sequences). Personally this is one I can hardly wait for and if it makes it to the cinema (it's already been postponed twice, so I'm not holding my breath) I'll be going, coronavirus or not.
Quite obviously an electrocuting, bullet-proof ballistic brolly would be even more frowned upon by the authorities than a swordstick one (even if it would be equally desirable); of course in this day and age of tie -in movie merchandise it is possible to get an "official" Kingsman umbrella from the likes of Mr Porter and even Briggs themselves, although for the price one would expect them to have all of the aforementioned functionality (sadly they don't). Stick to your standard gamp and keep practising your Bartitsu, is all I can suggest.
Major Digby Tatham-Warter (left) and his umbrella-based exploits immortalised
(as Major Harry Carlyle) in A Bridge Too Far.
One extraordinary chap who clearly thought he had a bullet-proof umbrella was the distinguished Second World War British Army officer Major Digby Tatham-Warter, whose wartime service saw him first taking part in the Western Desert campaign before volunteering for the Parachute Regiment, a decision that would lead him to take part in one of the most famous engagements of the war - Operation Market Garden, or the Battle of Arnhem. Clearly a top fellow and splendidly eccentric, Tatham-Warter would brandish a hunting bugle during the battle and trained his troops to recognise its various calls (as had been common military practice during the Napoleonic Wars) since he was - rightly as it turned out - worried about the unreliability of the battalion's field radios. More pertinently to this article, however, he also carried an umbrella with him as he frequently had difficulty remembering the various passwords he was supposed to use and reasoned that any Allied unit would recognise that "only a bloody fool of an Englishman" would bring a brolly into an active war zone. In the event it did also turn out to have a practical military application - during one engagement Tatham-Warter was able to take out a German armoured car with his parapluie by the simple expedient of shoving it through the vehicle's viewing slit and incapacitating the driver!
As the Battle of Arnhem raged on, Tatham-Warter could continually be seen moving nonchalantly among his men - sometimes in the face of fierce mortar and sniper fire - while still holding his trusty umbrella. At one point he led his men in a bayonet charge across Arnhem Bridge against advancing German infantry - brolly in one hand, pistol in the other and wearing a bowler hat that he had contrived to obtain from somewhere. Steed in battle, more or less! Still later, he observed the company chaplain trapped by enemy mortar fire while trying to get to some injured soldiers. Managing to make it to the chaplain's position, Tatham-Warter uttered the immortal line "Don't worry, I've got an umbrella" and proceeded to successfully escort the chaplain back across the street under the protection of its canopy. Upon returning to the front line while holding the still open gamp, the remark from fellow officer Lieutenant Pat Barnett that "that thing won't do you much good" drew from Tatham-Warter the equally brilliant response - "Oh my goodness Pat, but what if it rains?".
Tatham-Warter's exploits served as the inspiration for the fictional character of Major Harry Carlyle in A Bridge Too Far, Richard Attenborough's famous 1977 retelling of the Battle of Arnhem. In the film Carlyle dies but, perhaps [un]surprisingly, Tatham-Warter survived to be taken prisoner. He promptly escaped (naturally!) and for a time worked with the Dutch Resistance before eventually returning to England. He is certainly fully deserving of - and will one day get - a blog post in his own right but for now we can simply marvel at his brolly-based shenanigans in the face of incredible odds.
Another great bumbershoot-brandishing military eccentric who will also one day get the full Eclectic Ephemera treatment is Lieutenant-Colonel Alfred Daniel Wintle MC (left), whose service covered both world wars (and the period in between - which, to give you some idea of the man, he described as "intensely boring") with some quite amazing - and amusing - incidents occurring throughout his life. A staunch believer in "England and the English way of life" Wintle felt that the umbrella was one of the cornerstones of an English gentleman, a conviction that was established at the tender age of seven when an aunt bought him his first brolly - as he relates in his autobiography The Last Englishman:
"my Aunt Carrie... gave me my first umbrella, purchased at the Army and Navy Stores. This was to be, for many years, the apple of my eye. It made me feel I was well on my way to becoming a complete English gentleman.
I could hardly bear to be parted from my umbrella. I would go off at odd intervals of the day to admire it in the hall-stand and I used to take it to bed with me every night for years. The feel of the leather handle beside me as I fell asleep gave me the comforting sensation that I was already one of the... breed of Englishmen"
If you can find a copy, GET IT - it is one of the best
autobiographies I have ever read but sadly also one
of the rarest, only published once in 1968.
Although Wintle never went so far as to take an umbrella into battle his firm attachment and strong opinion never left him. He would go on to say:
"The Englishman... always takes his umbrella with him, anyway, for the good and simple reason that no gentleman ever leaves the house without it."
Mind you, he was also resolute on another point - "no true gentleman ever unfurls his umbrella". To Wintle, the brolly was a status symbol - the mark of a real English gent - and if it meant getting thoroughly soaked to prove it then so be it. So convinced was he of this theory that, in later years, before tightly furling it up he would insert a note into the canopy of his gamp that read "This umbrella was stolen from Colonel A. D. Wintle" presumably on the basis that any un-English malefactor who dared to pinch his brolly would be instantly undone upon opening it and so promptly nabbed by the constabulary.
While I wouldn't go so far as to never unfurl my umbrella (and therefore, sadly, in the eyes of Colonel Wintle am not a true Englishman) I would at least extol his instruction to take one with you wherever you go, the weather in this country being so unpredictable (especially at this time of year) and the forecasts generally useless (I find looking out of the window of a morn far more instructive). Nor would I recommend it as your sole form of armament should you ever find yourself facing off against a hostile tank, although as Major Tatham-Warter proved it couldn't hurt. If you can take anything away from these posts, be inspired by these chaps both fictional and - however unbelievably - genuine and carry your umbrella with pride whatever the weather.
Finally, to finish on a still lighter note - at the end of the previous post I described Steed's actions with the brolly as "umbrella jousting". I knew I had heard the term somewhere before and it afterwards came back to me. It is of course the sport invented by those sterling coves over at The Chap magazine as part of their annual Chap Olympiad and the perfect way to end this post. Surely it will only be a matter of time before the International Olympic Committee see sense and include umbrella jousting in future Games. Could we see well-dressed participants with tightly-furled brollies and reinforced newspapers charging each other on bicycles in time for Tokyo, perhaps? The Japanese would love it! I leave you with footage of last year's event and let you make up your own mind...
Another favourite subject of mine now; an aircraft from a different war, which has featured on these pages many times before - the Supermarine Spitfire.
In this case it is the fascinating and largely untold story of the secret production lines set up in and around the city of Salisbury in Wiltshire following the bombing of the Supermarine's main factory in Southampton at the height of the Battle of Britain. While that facility recovered from the attentions of the Luftwaffe, nearly a dozen top secret production sites were being hurriedly established in such unlikely locations as motor garages, bus depots, sheds, back gardens - even hotels and bedrooms for a variety of smaller parts. These small-scale assembly lines were nevertheless able take the pressure off the remaining factory in Castle Bromwich in the Midlands and went on to produce over 10,000 Spitfires, a frankly amazing achievement made all the more so by the fact that the majority of the workers were unskilled locals - young women, boys and older men overseen by just a few skilled engineers.
This astounding feat has only really come to light in the last four years - having remained mostly forgotten in the intervening eight decades - thanks to the hard work of a local charity and historians, following the creation of a documentary by a Salisbury-based filmmaker. Featuring interviews with surviving members of the workforce (whose admirably stoic reticence in respecting the secrecy surrounding the work - much like the Bletchley Park codebreakers - meant that even their own family members were unaware of their involvement until the documentary came out) the Secret Spitfires film was a welcome and long-overdue acknowledgement of the incredible efforts and sacrifices made by the people of Salisbury during some of the darkest days of the Second World War.
Inspired by this documentary local residents set up a charity in June 2019 with the aim of creating a lasting memorial to these sterling workers and their hidden accomplishments in the form of a replica Spitfire to be placed at one of the shadow factory's sites, now part of Salisbury Rugby Club. I'm delighted to see that in the intervening year enough money was raised to make it a reality and last month the full-scale fibreglass Spit was completed at the specialist manufacturers in Norfolk. It now awaits its final erection on the site in Castle Street, Salisbury, (when Covid permits) which will also serve as the terminus of a splendid-sounding tourist trail complete with blue plaques at other known locations of the factories in the city area.
Once again this is a welcome example of civic pride and recognition of an important aspect of local [WW2] history and one I am very pleased has come to fruition. It certainly sounds as though it will prove of great interest to both the people of Salisbury, for whom this stirring story of their townsfolks' role in the war effort will be a new and exciting one to them, as well as students of Second World War history (myself included) and I congratulate everyone involved in seeing it through successfully.
A poignant yet remarkable story this - an incident one can scarcely imagining still happening but which I suppose we will keep seeing as more historical material from the period is unearthed, despite the lengthening passage of time since the end of the war.
An intriguing concatenation of circumstances looks to have led to this wartime letter and several others turning up after a prolonged period of time - first in the attic of a German ex-officer almost 30 years after first being written and now over 50 years later finally finding their way back (at least in part) to the families or villages of the senders, thanks to the work of the Suffolk Regiment Museum and later the Suffolk County Council's Archives.
In the instance of Private Harry Cole the archivists at Suffolk County Council also managed to locate surviving relatives in the persons of his two younger brothers, a quite incredible achievement after all these years made even more so by the fact that one of the brothers and an SCC archivist both live in the same village.
The fact that the siblings are still alive and remain in the same part of the country from which their brother would have left to join up brings a whole new level of immediacy to this particular story and serves as a welcome reminder that for all the time that has passed since the end of the Second World War 75 years ago it remains a relatively recent event in our history with people still alive today who were directly affected by it. All the more reason then to applaud Suffolk Archives for its work in trying to return these letters to their rightful owners and, where that has not been possible, to produce an excellent online exhibition featuring some of them. It is a fine example of local history within the context of a global war, which I look forward to delving into in detail and which hopefully might reunite a few more families with these long-lost reminders of relatives and their sacrifices during the Second World War.
As the period of the Second World War slips further back into the mists of time, so remarkable discoveries like this never-before seen footage of intelligence workers at a Bletchley Park satellite station are both ever more historically important and perhaps (hopefully?) the start of more of the same appearing, as the period of the Official Secrets Act that covered the work done at Bletchley comes closer to its end. It is perhaps telling that this fantastic material was donated anonymously, which to my mind suggests that it was the original owner (or someone closely connected to them), who magnanimously gave it to the Bletchley Park Trust - perhaps feeling that enough time had passed that it could be handed on with a clear conscience.
That it was made at all is extraordinary given the top-secret nature of the work carried out at the site, the blanket ban on cameras and the oath of secrecy that all the workers were sworn to and which, if you see or read interviews with surviving members, they still feel honour-bound to keep nearly 80 years on.
In spite of this it seems to me that whoever took this footage clearly wanted to document what little they could of life as a code-breaker during the war. Although much of it is of a frivolous nature and nothing is really given away, the fact that it features several fellow workers including some in official uniform to me belies the suggestion that it would have been seriously frowned upon had it been discovered at the time. In it I see a group of people, very much aware of the importance of what they are doing, wanting to preserve what they could of their daily lives at Whaddon Hall for posterity. The fact that expensive and hard to come by colour film is used in parts, I feel, supports this theory.
As I said at the beginning of this post, it is to be hoped that more finds like this will be unearthed in the future to provide an even more tangible link to a significant and pivotal time in our history and in this case add further to the amazing story of the "Ultra" code-breakers based at these sites. I am certainly looking forward to see the augmented film with subtitles once it becomes available, as to see what was being said as well will only add to the immediacy of this astonishing footage.
Dear me, has it really been three months since my last post? I suppose there's no getting away from the fact that I've had something of an impromptu blogging break, but here I am - like the proverbial bad penny - turning up again and I must say it's already beginning to feel like I've never been away. Let's hope I can sustain that feeling, get back to a post every once in a while and not become stuck in another rut!
So, what has caught my vintage eye (I actually have two you know) in the last few weeks? Read on to find out!
In my local seaside town, no less, came the discovery at the end of May of a part of the hugely important and super-rare coding machine used by the Germans in the Second World War - the Lorenz encryptor, bigger and even more complex brother of the famous Enigma machines. Discovered, in of all places, eBay! Misidentified as a telegraph keyboard, and up for auction at a mere £9.50, it was only sheer luck that the National Museum of Computing at Bletchley Park came across it - sitting in the seller's garage under a pile of junk! Surely this must rank as one of the ultimate eBay "finds"?! Well done to those eagle-eyed museum chaps for spotting this important part of computing and Second World War history, even if it is incomplete. Proof, if proof were needed, that there are still treasures to be found on that site - and on that note, while we're all searching around for that next bargain, keep an eye out for the Lorenz's motor, which is still yet to be found.
In related news a Second World War messaging post, one of 30 set up at the behest of Churchill in the face of the expected invasion of Britain in 1940, has been given listed status following its rediscovery in a disused Norfolk country house in 2012. One of only twelve so far discovered, it was sadly damaged by fire in 2014 but with this latest news and the encouraging noises being made by Historic England (previously English Heritage) one hopes that it can be restored and opened to the public as a museum detailing that pivotal point in our nations history and the important part these "In Stations" and there civilian operators would have played had the worst happened.
One man doing his best among hundreds to ensure the worst did not happen was Czech fighter pilot Emil Bocek, who trained as a teenage ground mechanic in 1940 before going on to earn his wings and fly Spitfires in combat from 1944. Later rising to the rank of General and now aged 93, he returned to Biggin Hill last month to fly a dual-control Spitfire over the skies of South London - the first time he's taken the controls of that wonderful aircraft in 70 years. Dobré pro vás, General Bocek!
Work continues apace on the reconstruction of Eric, the world's first functioning robot (as previously reported here). It sounds as though both the Science Museum and the chap building the replica are unsure of just how things will turn out, so it sounds like the plans that have been found are either incomplete or not detailed enough. Nevertheless I look forward to hearing of Eric's reawakening, in what will no doubt be the closest form to the original that the existing information will allow.
This last article is an absolute pip, just the kind of feel-good vintage news story I enjoy featuring on the blog. In this four-year centenary of the First World War there have been - and no doubt will continue to be - many such stories of descendants of Great War combatants uncovering fascinating accounts or honouring their relatives in some way (and rightly so!). This story of two brothers recreating the very aeroplane their grandfather flew in the Royal Naval Air Service during the Gallipoli campaign is a particularly stirring example and I'm delighted to see them make a success of it in time for a local air display. A more perfect way of honouring their grandfather's memory and providing an important glimpse into his life and exploits in the RNAS I couldn't imagine. Well done chaps!
That's me done for this post, then, but I sincerely hope and intend it not to be my last for another three months! I'm looking forward immensely to getting back into this blogging racket and with stories like these to choose from I certainly shouldn't be short of inspiration. Until next time folks, tinkerty-tonk!
This month's post focuses on the the fascinating B.B.C. article (linked above) regarding one of Britain's most obscure and long-forgotten aviatrices - Constance Leathart.
The Beeb has gone into some detail about this remarkable lady in their article for the regional Inside Out programme, so I do not intend to repeat all of it again here. Suffice to say it appears that Miss Leathart was every inch a most indomitable woman, at a time when women needed such spiritedness in order to break into the male-dominated world of early aviation.
Her appearance in the majority of the surviving photographs of her shows this plainly; usually sporting a short side-parted haircut and often wearing shirt, tie and tweeds she could easily pass for a man. This allowed her to embark on many fantastic-sounding aviation adventures, from air races to long distance flights (not to mention repairing aeroplanes on the side!), culminating in being one of the first women to sign up for the Air Transport Auxiliary during World War Two. Even then her adventurousness continued unabated - as it would if you were able to fly myriad military aircraft, particularly the Spitfire!
Behind the exciting lifestyle and the overturning of gender stereotypes, though, seems to me to be a very sad portrait of a lonely outsider. Leathart herself admits to dressing in the masculine style in order to try to please her father, who had wanted a boy child. To see her self-deprecating notes on her own photographs is heartrending; her exclusion from most ATA publicity shots on the grounds of her not being of the "pin-up" style is equally saddening (and in the photo featured in the accompanying article of Miss Leathart standing with the rest of the ATA women one can even sense there a difference and an element of exclusion - whether on Leathart's part or not we may never know).
Her spirit of adventure still not sated, following her war service she became a UN Special Representative to the Greek island of Icaria - helping to provide food and medical supplies by air. She eventually had to give up flying in 1958 and retired to a farmhouse in her native North-East, where she spent her time caring for rescued donkeys. She never married and, when she passed away in 1993, in a final display of tragic seclusiveness requested to be buried in an unmarked grave (thankfully her friends disregarded this and marked her resting place with a stone from her outside swimming pool).
Although it's splendid to see Constance Leathart's life be recognised, I do feel she (and the other aviatrices of her time) are worthy of whole programmes to themselves. Hopefully one day we shall see even greater recognition of these pioneering female pilots.
On a related note I'm thrilled and delighted to see that modern-day aviatrix Tracey Curtis-Taylor, who presented the B.B.C. report on Miss Leathart (and whose recreation of Lady Mary Heath's 1928 Cape Town-Goodwood flight I blogged about two years ago) is currently recreating Amy Johnson's epic 1930 flight from England to Australia. By now somewhere over the Middle East and on her way to India, Ms Curtis-Taylor aims to land her vintage 1942 Boeing Stearman biplane in Sydney some time early in 2016, before shipping the aircraft to the west coast of the USA to continue across that continent and so make it a genuine round-the-world trip!
I heartily commend Ms Curtis-Taylor for striving to keep the memory of these early aviatrices alive through her own flying adventures and I admire her greatly for both this and the courage and drive it must take to undertake such expeditions. Those of you in the U.K. (or with access to B.B.C. output) may remember that a documentary of Ms Curtis-Taylor's South African flight was broadcast shortly after its completion and I'm pleased to see that discussions are underway to produce a further series of programmes covering the Australian and American flights (and beyond!) for airing in the first half of 2016. Until then I'm sure you will join me in wishing Ms Curtis-Taylor continuing good luck as she makes her way to Australia. Soft landings and no dud engines!
With the 70th anniversary of VE Day still fresh in our minds from a fortnight ago (did anyone see the celebrations on the B.B.C. and particularly the veterans' march past the Prince of Wales - what about that old boy at the end who insisted on getting out of his wheelchair to shake hands with the Prince of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall?! What a chap!), it's easy to forget that the war was still raging in Europe almost right up until the moment of surrender on the 7th May.
This fact has been brought home again recently thanks in part to the discovery of a previously unseen photograph showing preparations for an RAF bombing raid on the German port of Kiel, with the date (written on the bomb, no less!) of the 2nd May 1945 - only 5 days before Germany's unconditional surrender. Even more interestingly, this raid - by de Havilland Mosquitoes of 608 Squadron, based at Downham Market in Norfolk - has been confirmed as the last hostile operation undertaken by Bomber Command in the Second World War, so this photograph is most definitely an important historical document of the very last days of the conflict.
It was a fitting closure to aerial operations in the Second World War that Kiel was chosen as the target for this final raid (as it was feared that the remnants of the German Navy would make a last-minute dash for Norway, then still in Axis hands, from the town's large sea port) as it was also one of the very first targets to be bombed by the RAF back in September 1939 (as immortalised in the 1939 British propaganda film The Lion Has Wings, starring Merle Oberon and Ralph Richardson - from which the above clip is taken).
As is the way with newly-discovered photographs we marvel at the snapshot in time that they provide, which in this case is heightened by the knowledge that it was taken less than a week away from one of the defining events of the 20th century - the end of one of the world's bloodiest and all-encompassing wars. An otherwise everyday wartime activity is thrown into stark relief by the fact that it turned out to be the last such action of the war and one wonders about the awareness of the men in the photo - what were their hopes and feelings on that last raid; did they know it would all be over in a matter of days? We'll likely never know the answer to that question now since the original owner, pictured in the photo, passed away in 1979 (having, like so many of his generation, never talked about his experiences) but nevertheless it's welcome news that an historically-important image has been found and saved for the nation, fittingly in this the 70th anniversary year of the war's end.
I rarely do posts previewing upcoming interesting programmes or listing classic films on TV these days, partly because I no longer follow TV listings any more (without going into moaning mode, I haven't missed a TV mag because there's precious little of interest on). Other bloggers cover well the occasional runs of old films (usually, in the UK, on B.B.C. Two at some ungodly hour of the morning); I'm also mindful of the fact that some international readers have limited or no access to British programming.
Having said all that, here now is a worthy exception - a programme I had the good fortune to discover will be broadcast tomorrow (Sunday) evening at 9pm (BST) on B.B.C. Two. It features a hero of the Royal Navy's Fleet Air Arm, the consummate test pilot and a man who has flown more types of of aircraft - a staggering 487 all told - than any other human being in aviation history. He is Captain Eric "Winkle" Brown RN (Ret'd).
Without giving too much away - you'll have to watch the programme - Captain Brown, now 95 years old(!), joined the Royal Navy's Fleet Air Arm on the outbreak of World War II having actually been on a student exchange holiday in Germany at the start of the conflict in September 1939. He had visited the country several times previously in the 1930s with his ex-RFC father, including a trip to the 1936 Berlin Olympics where the Browns met and befriended German ace Ernst Udet. In September '39, in the first amazing incident of a long and action-packed career, the young Eric Brown was arrested by the SS. After three days of interrogation the 20-year-old Brown, quite incredibly, was simply escorted to the Swiss border - MG Magnette sports car and all - and sent on his way (when he somewhat impetuously asked his would-be captors why they weren't commandeering his car they replied "because we have no spares").
For the next 30 years Eric Brown would fly with the Fleet Air Arm, fighting German maritime bombers from aircraft carriers, testing captured German aircraft at Farnborough, as well putting new and prototype British and American aeroplanes through their paces - bravely pushing the envelope of flight - both on land and at sea. He still holds the record for most individual types flown, as well as being the first man to land a jet aeroplane on the deck of an aircraft carrier.
Now aged 95 Captain Brown still comes across as a fantastically knowledgeable and - of course - experienced chap, with the attitude and deportment that so typifies his generation. I can heartily recommend his autobiography Wings On My Sleeve and if it's even half as good as the book tomorrow's programme will be a real corker (looks like is is too!).
**Britain's Greatest Pilot: The Extraordinary Story of Captain Winkle Brown, B.B.C. Two, Sunday 1st June, 9pm**
(For readers outside the U.K., or without access to B.B.C. TV/iPlayer, here is a selection of extracts from a 100-minute interview with Eric Brown made 3 years ago).
Some of the news articles that I choose to feature on this blog often concern vintage-orientated projects such as archives, recreations and restorations. Sometimes these long-term ventures get a flurry of media coverage at the outset and then all goes quiet for a time - the thing gets forgotten about and bubbles along in the background until completion brings press attention again or, less happily, it slips into oblivion. I always like to revisit the more successful undertakings where possible and this latest post is one such pleasing example.
Nearly four years ago now(!) I wrote about an article detailing the British Council's intention to digitise and upload its entire collection of cultural information films from the 1930s and '40s. All told as many as 160 ten-minute films were to be archived online for everyone to view. I'm delighted to see today that this process has finally been completed, with 120 clips - mainly from the 1940s - now available to enjoy on the Council's Vimeo site.
A good few bits of footage feature the British war effort, as is to be expected, yet in amongst the wartime clips are some equally fascinating views of daily life in Britain in the 1940s - some in beautiful Technicolour. I've included a couple more of my favourites here, plus the three in my original post, but really every one is a gem of Forties detail. The insight these films give us into British life 70 years ago is nothing short of fantastic, with both familiar sights and long-lost scenes from around the country. Endlessly captivating, it's wonderful to finally see them all preserved for the future.
As volunteers and enthusiasts at the Lincolnshire Aviation Heritage Centre here in Britain continue to work towards getting a third Avro Lancaster bomber restored to airworthy condition, so their counterparts at the Champaign Aviation Museum in Urbana, Ohio U.S.A., are undertaking an even more mammoth task - to rebuild an example of the United States' primary Second World War heavy bomber, the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress.
Of the forty-six surviving B-17 airframes known to exist around the world, thirteen are currently in airworthy condition - including Sally B, the only flying example in Britain, based at the Imperial War Museum Duxford. The majority are of course located in museums across America and in a few years' time, if all goes well, they will be joined by this fourteenth - Champaign Lady.
The volunteers at the Champaign Aviation Museum - many of them U.S. Air Force veterans themselves - must be commended for taking on this project, for it is so much more than a simple restoration. With no more complete or intact airframes forthcoming, these enthusiasts have taken to scavenging parts piecemeal and - where they no longer exist - making them themselves from Boeing's own original blueprints. In effect, then, this is more a completely new-build aircraft than a restoration, with the promise of a machine better than a Boeing production model from the 1940s at the end of it.
With the famous Memphis Belle currently undergoing restoration at the nearby National Museum of the U.S.A.F. and destined never to fly again following designation as a national treasure, it is more important than ever that airworthy examples of this aircraft continue flying in the future. The prospect of one built to modern tolerances with largely new parts is an exciting one, as it will no doubt ensure that at least one B-17 Flying Fortress will be flying and thrilling new generations for decades to come. Good luck to them, say I, and I can't wait to see it!
More Bomber Command commemoration news now, and this one is exciting almost beyond words (well, I'll try anyway)!
The Battle of Britain Memorial Flight has been thrilling airshow crowds and remembrance parades around the country for decades and the undisputed jewel in its crown is the Avro Lancaster bomber PA474. Joining the Flight in 1973 it has become a much-loved feature; one of only two airworthy examples left in the world it is highly valued in its own right.
source Avro Lancaster Mk X FM213"Mynarski Memorial" of the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum
The other Lanc in flying condition - FM213 - performs a similar office for the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum in Ontario, having been rescued from the scrapheap by The Royal Canadian Legion in 1978 (and restored to airworthiness by 1988). A familiar sight on the North American display circuits the Canadian-built FM213 was, like PA474, completed just too late to see service in World War II - spending 20 years with the RCAF's Maritime Air Command Search & Rescue division.
source Avro Lancaster B I PA747 "City of Lincoln" of the BBMF
Now in a series of special one-off events FM213 and PA474 are scheduled to meet in the skies of Britain this summer in what is rightly being billed as a "once-in-a-lifetime event". For the first time in 60 years two Avro Lancasters will fly together over two weeks in August (including, I note, my birthday - hmmnn, now there's an idea...!).
The CWHM will fly its Lancaster, in stages, across the Atlantic to meet up with the BBMF at RAF Coningsby. That in itself is more than worthy of comment, since a Lancaster has not undertaken an Atlantic crossing since 1975 and we should remember that we are talking about a near 70-year-old machine here! Just that flight alone will be testament to the aircraft's durability and the hard work of the museum engineers who work strenuously to keep this wonderful aeroplane flyable (the same can be said, of course, for PA474 and the BBMF).
source
Avro Lancaster B VII NX611 "Just Jane"
of the Lincolnshire Aviation Heritage Centre
Once FM213 has made it across and is checked over a number of displays and events are planned for that second fortnight in August. Flypasts with the BBMF will commence on the 14th August with a series of as-yet unspecified shows to follow. A tour of the country seems to be suggested; hopefully we shall know more nearer the time. A visit to the taxiing Lanc undergoing restoration in Lincolnshire, perhaps (three of them, albeit on the ground, would surely be a sight to see)? Hopefully a show near you will see both bombers in the air together. Furthermore if you live near the Humberside Airport and have £3,500 going spare you can even pay to have a flight in one of the Lancasters (£7,000 for a cockpit seat), which are due to take place on the 18th-20th and 26th-27th August.
All-in-all then this sounds like an absolutely amazing opportunity and a fantastic way to commemorate the numerous martial anniversaries that abound this year (WWI 100th, WWII 75th, Bomber Command etc.). I very much hope to get a chance to see the two Lancs in formation together some time, somewhere, this August. Watch and listen to the footage at the top of this post, then try to imagine two (or even three if NX611 is involved!) instead of one - what a beautiful sight (and sound!) that will be!
Readers may be familiar with the memorial to RAF Bomber Command that was unveiled by HM Queen Elizabeth II in Green Park, London, a couple of years ago. Until then there had been no official memorial to the bomber crews who died during the Second World War. Now there is soon to be a second - as well as the first museum devoted to that arm of the RAF - in Lincoln, to further honour the men of Bomber Command.
Both edifices look to be magnificent. The monument - to be called the "Spire of Names" - will tower 164ft into the sky and feature the 25,000+ names of every bomber airman from Lincolnshire who perished in the conflict. Sitting on Lincoln's Canwick Hill it will overlook the nearby Lincoln Cathedral, which was well-known to locally-based bomber pilots as both a navigation aid and a welcome sight upon returning to base. Recently the Spire project was given an anonymous £750,000 donation, allowing it to go ahead.
As detailed in the main article, the nearby visitor centre has been ingeniously designed to resemble the outline of an Avro Lancaster bomber, that most famous mainstay of RAF bomber squadrons. It is also set be named The Chadwick Centre, after Avro's chief designer Roy Chadwick.
All this adds up to an excellent and beautiful form of remembrance for all the brave men of the RAF Bomber Command, as well as those at the Avro works and doubtless many more local and national war heroes to boot. I'm sure it will be a credit to Lincoln and all the airmen who gave their lives in service to their country.
From the isles of Kent to the hills and plains of San Diego, California now, where a fighter 'plane from a different war has also recently undergone restoration. In this case it is a 1943 Curtiss P-40E Warhawk that has been rebuilt practically from scratch by the skilled workers and enthusiasts at the San Diego-based restoration company Flyboys Aeroworks.
There's more than just one facet to this story, however. Not only has an important piece of historical machinery (and a dashed good fighter aircraft to boot) been restored to prime condition, an airframe previously given up to the icy conditions of the Alaskan Aleutian Islands has managed to be salvaged and used as a starting point to bring this particular example back to life.
The team at Flyboys Aeroworks are not your usual retired volunteers, either. Many of them are apprentice engineering students from the nearby San Diego Mirimar College, putting their knowledge and skills to good use on this project and others like it. All seem to have an interest in this era, however, and it is splendid to see this manifested in their work.
Although this particular P-40 is destined for static display at the National WWII Museum in New Orleans the skills needed to restore it are essential for the maintenance and future reconstruction of airworthy examples. It's also great to read that original 1940s blueprints and equipment were used in the restoration of this P-40.
I'm preaching to the converted here but I can't say enough how important it is, for the continued remembrance of our favourite eras, that new and young generations learn the skills needed to keep all aspects of the past alive (and that includes the very skills themselves). It is people like those at Flyboys, or - as also recently reported - at the Severn Valley Railway's forthcoming Heritage Skills Training Academy, who help to maintain these ageing machines and ensure that they can continue performing at the events we all enjoy (rather than just becoming museum relics, or words and pictures on a page). I'm sure you'll all agree with me when I say we owe them (and those training them) a debt of gratitude and I hope we shall see many more similar setups in the future (and here's wishing Flyboys the best of luck with their next project).
I would go so far as to say it is almost a duty for those of us with an interest in fast-receding eras to involve ourselves as best we can in helping to ensure those times aren't forgotten, and where possible pass on our enthusiasm to those young minds interested in and receptive to finding out more about the past. I'm not usually one for New Year resolutions (and with the first month gone already, I'm a little late!) but these two articles have inspired me to try to get to more museums and events this year - maybe even volunteer where I can - and hopefully do a bit more to keep the spirit of bygone ages alive.
I've mentioned before how indebted this blog is to the news feeds & alerts that I'm signed up to in helping me to find vintage news and events near and far and this article is a classic example.
"A picture of a Lanc, and a Heritage Weekend? I'll have a look at that", I thought to myself - with an eye to putting it on here - when the e-mail alert popped into my inbox yesterday. And I was not disappointed as I read the splendid article to see the few remaining RAF Bomber Command servicemen who served at RAF Defford gathered together to share memories, the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight Avro Lancaster gracing the event with a few flypasts over the gorgeous Worcestershire countryside and the whole weekend generally being a rip-roaring success. It's always heartwarming to see such an important piece of history as the the sole airworthy Lancaster in Britain appearing at events like these and it all certainly seems to have given a well-deserved boost to the new Defford Airfield Museum.
Then I clicked through the accompanying pictures. Got to the fifth one. Hang on a minute, that's...! (Imagine me now doing a double take, taking off my glasses, squinting, putting them back on again etc.) Yes, fellow blogger Tickety Boo Tupney was in attendance, suitably and immaculately dressed as ever and no doubt helping to lend the event an authentic 1940s air.
So this news item that I might otherwise have missed ends up having it all - a popular Heritage Weekend, pleasant scenery, a Lancaster bomber and another vintage blogger - and earns a place on Eclectic Ephemera!
An interesting local story here as one of my county's well-known seaside resorts receives an unexpected windfall after the chance discovery of a long-forgotten disaster fund left over from the Second World War.
Initially started after a German Heinkel He111 bomber crashed in the town on the 30th April 1940 - destroying sixty-seven houses, injuring 160 people and resulting in the first two civilian deaths on mainland Britain of the war (as described in this fascinating newsreel I found, above) - the account went on to receive further contributions not only from local residents & businesses but also holidaymakers, passers-through and even famous bandleaders of the time Joe Loss and Billy Cotton (both of whom were known to donate money to worthy causes). It was consequently dipped into for the next few years but in 1950 the remaining £243 13s 6d was put into a Post Office Savings Account and then, it seems, promptly forgotten about.
Had it not been for an office clear-out at the town hall the money may have gone unnoticed indefinitely, but now the original ledger and other related documents have been discovered and show that - after 73 years - the account is in credit to the tune of £1,700!
While that may not sound like much of a return on seven decades of interest (even taking into account inflation, decimalisation and other factors, the 1940 fund's original sum of £1,244 12s 0d would be equivalent to about £55,000 in today's money!) it's still seventeen hundred pounds more than Clacton thought it had and I'm delighted to see that the council intend to put it towards a permanent memorial to the original disaster, one that will complement the already-existing inscribed bench.
It seems suitably fitting and splendidly serendipitous that a fund set up in the wake of a wartime tragedy to help the people of Clacton during the dark days of the conflict is able to be used today to commemorate the local victims and ensure that the original incident is never forgotten. I shall look forward to seeing Clacton's new memorial, to be erected thanks to these long-lost monies.
I expect many of my readers who are based in the U.K. will have been following this story as I have (and I'm sure overseas readers will be interested to hear about this project too), but only now do I feel justified in posting about it since it has (finally!) ended in practically complete success.
I can hardly believe that it has been nearly 3 years since I featured on this blog the news that the only known intact example of a Second World War German Dornier 17 bomber had been discovered resting in shallow water off the Kent coast. In that time numerous dives had been made to study the wreck and devise a way to raise it from the Goodwin Sands - a plan that was put into action (as originally envisaged) last month.
Alas the English Channel was not keen to relinquish its grasp of this aeroplane and it has taken until now - over a month from the anticipated salvage date - for it to finally see daylight for the first time in 70 years. It has been a remarkable feat of engineering - not to mention patience! - to bring this aircraft out of the sea in as near as dammit one piece and one that very nearly looked like not coming off at all. Thankfully all the time and money invested in this endeavour looks to have been worth it as the world's only extant Do17 airframe begins its new journey to the RAF Museum at Cosford, where it will undergo extensive restoration over the next two years and then eventually form a suitable counterpoint in the Battle of Britain exhibit at the Hendon museum. Quite what form this will take I'm not sure, as I had thought the original plan was to keep it pretty much as it was found and the museum website talks about "conserving" it, but maybe they feel a full restoration is possible and desirable. No doubt we shall see come 2015! I shall look forward to continuing to follow Dornier 17 5K+AR's story over the next two years and hope to see it, in whatever form, at the RAF Museum in the future.
Another week seems to have flown by, again without a single blog post from me! How terribly remiss of me, to be sure; I can only say that I rather immersed myself in convalescing (fat lot of good it's done me - now I've gone and caught a cold!) to the point where I've almost neglected this poor little blog. I must apologise to you, dear readers.
Other than the sniffles, however, I think I can safely say things are all back as they should be (or as near as makes no difference). I've still got the previously-mentioned drafts to finish but once again something unexpected has come along to upset the order of things (albeit in a totally good way).
That something was another Antique and Collectors Fair at Runnymede Hall in Benfleet, Essex. Literally just around the corner from my parents, I took full advantage of the fact and stopped in for lunch before mater and I went down there for an afternoon's browsing. I can hardly believe that it has been a whole year since last I went to one of these (they're roughly bi-monthly at Benfleet, with others held at various locations in Essex), although of course I've had my reasons(!).
When I attended the February 2012 event, at which I picked up two 1930s non-U.K. pennies as told here, I mentioned my surprise at the high prices in evidence and speculated (hoped!) that it was the exception rather than the rule on the basis of other antiques emporia I had visited around the same time. I'm delighted to say, based on my experience yesterday, that that seems to have been the case as prices this time were much more reasonable and there were several things that, were I more flush with cash, I might have considered buying. I don't think for one minute that the antiques and collectibles market is in any kind of trouble either locally or nationally; I believe this was more a case of dealers coming to their senses, reigning in their ambitions and being keener to sell (there was much more of that on display too - lots of deals, half price tables, "everything must go", "make me an offer" and the rather amusing "buyers wanted, no experience necessary!" signs). It was a slightly smaller affair than last year - the picture above, taken in April 2012, gives a good idea of the scale this time too - but it was well-attended and there were some interesting items, as I mentioned.
I (or, I should say, we) didn't come away empty-handed this time either and it was thanks in part to mother's eagle eye. One of the first tables we came to contained heaps of odds and ends, many of them Second World War vintage (ironically it was run by a friendly German stallholder who, like most of the traders there, was keen to chat). Half hidden beneath some old matchbooks, pin badges and similar knick-knacks were some papers. Closer inspection revealed them to be - knitting patterns, all it seemed from around the early/mid 1940s!
Having leafed through all ten and with mater on a bit of a knitting kick we agreed to buy, for 50p, the one that looked the best for yours truly - as illustrated by the handsome chap above (I can guarantee I won't look as dapper, I'm afraid!). We then continued round the rest of the hall, stopping for some tea and cake on the way. During this break the discussion returned to the remaining 9 patterns and after some deliberation I went back to see if I could take our Teutonic friend up on his offer to "do a deal" on all of them. As if to underline my earlier point about this particular fair, he was happy to let the rest go for a paltry £3! So, without further ado, here are the rest!
Might see if I can get Ma to have a crack at the men's slippers, although I think she might be rather dubious about using "rug wool" and making the leather soles(!).
Researching Sirdar Wools I was surprised and pleased to find that they're still in business!
A great advert for Lee's Wools in one of two Woman's Weekly pattern sections, this one from November 1940. Perhaps Tups will be able to tell us the name of the model? ;-)
On the other side, a double pattern for "Stocksize" and "Outsize" ladies vests. Unfortunately, the "opposite page" which details the materials needed is missing. Any suggestions from the knitters out there?
Shoulders!
No such problems with this great, brilliantly modelled pattern from a later Woman's Weekly dated the 5th August 1944.
Mum has offered to do these gloves too. I'll have to supply the binoculars and tin hat myself, though! ;-p
Hang on, this model looks familiar(!). Could it be Tups' favourite and subject of her latest post, Miss Peggy Chester?!
"They Always Need Socks", is the subtitle on the reverse of this pattern. Something that still holds true today, I can tell you. Maybe I should see about dusting off my very basic knitting skills with a pair of these fellows...?
Even mother was getting carried away at this point, but she did say that she might have a try at the bag too. If she does I'll be sure to try and get some pictures of it.
All in all a splendid day out for all concerned. I get some vintage knitting patterns to blog about (and reap some woollen rewards from!) and mother gets some more things to knit.
I'm looking forward with renewed anticipation to the next fair in April, as well as some others elsewhere locally that I may blog about in the future. In the meantime I hope you've all enjoyed sharing in my latest acquisitions and I hope to have some new knits to show you soon.
