We Will Remember Them ...

After my Mum passed away a few years ago in her 99th year – several letters surfaced that were written and sent between my Dad (who passed away in the early 1960's) and his school mate Wes during World War II. They are an insight into a side of life most had hoped to never see again but which is still affecting many worldwide. Time to reflect and remember.

Names have been changed or omitted for family privacy. Letters have been edited for relevancy. This is the longest article published on CaP. I felt it was best to leave these letters together for continuity. Thanks for your perseverance.

16th May 1940  ~

A letter from Wes to my Dad (in Melbourne, Australia)

Dear Tom,

I'm sorry to say I will not be able to come over and see you before I go into training. I received a letter from the Air Force requesting me to report a fortnight earlier, i.e on the 26th May, and I'm that busy I don't know what day of the week it is. This however is more personal than a telephone call but don't you call me any names or I won't write to you.

Well old son, I know you think I'm crazy, but someone has to go to this stoush (Definition: fight / brawl) - no doubt I could find plenty of reasons why I should stay away but I'd go sooner or later so what is the good of delaying...

If we both had our time over again I wonder what we would do? I must admit I have a few regrets ... If I survive this war you never know, I might meet a “good woman” and live happily ever after.

Give my very best regards to your Mum and Dad and all the best to yourself. I know you'll all wish me luck.

Yours, "Wes"
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5th August, 1940 ~

A letter from Wesley's Mum to my Dad

Dear Tom,

I hope you will forgive me not replying to your letter earlier but the time seems to run away from one altho' all three boys have gone from me now.

I am Secretary for our Soldiers Welfare Auxiliary in connection with the Church and it keeps me busy cutting out  wool and knitting etc...

Ralph has been transferred to Adelaide and is leaving in about ten days

With kindest regards to your wife.

Yours sincerely, "E.P. Strong"
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14.4.42 ~

Letter from Wes (overseas) to Dad

From: Base PO, c/o Overseas H.Q. R.A.A.F
Kodak House, Kingsway, London WC 2

Dear Tom,

Your letter of 4th February reached me today. Glad to hear from you, so very few of my friends are left now it's quite a change to receive a letter from someone you have known for a long time.

Since you read my last letter to the folks, you know of course that I joined a squadron at the beginning of September last year. Since then much has happened. Out of the thirteen navigators who left Aussie with me, only two are alive – myself and a bloke named Tricket. When I was in Scotland doing a refresher course prior to going on operations, the Scotch mists got me down and I spent a week in a convalescent hospital near Forres. The other chaps naturally got ahead of me and by the time I returned, after fourteen days sick leave, they were on their way to squadrons. This was about the first two weeks in July. The first casualty was a chap named John Neal, aged 22 years. When I was posted to Scotland he was sent to another school in the south of England and was killed in an Anson crash about a month later. Two more of the boys who went to squadrons whilst I was away failed to return from their first operation. And so it went on.

By the time I reached Squadron over half of them had gone and I began to believe in the saying “there's no future in this racket”. The first trip is always a bogie and the old heads at the game always dread having a new member in their crew. Still I returned safely, although I don't mind admitting my knees were knocking on that first trip when I left the nav table to go forward to the front turret to prepare for the release of the bombs. As time went on and I still kept coming back I began to think that some divine providence was watching over me and particularly after the night of black Friday November 7th when Bomber Command made a big raid on Berlin. Thirty eight kites did not come back including five machines from our Squadron alone.

Whilst the good weather continued there was no let up however, and we made regular raids on the Ruhr, Hamburg, Kiel,  Emden, Essen and Wilhelmshaven. Whilst there is no doubt that we did a great deal of damage, at the same time, the newspapers here reported that the results were disappointing and a big appeal was made to the people to subscribe to war loans and to the workers to speed up the production of aircraft in particular, and other armaments generally. We were suffering such big losses in the type of aircraft on our squadron, that it was realised that they were merely wasting manpower by sending them on such “hot” targets, and there was a sigh of relief throughout the Squadron when the word went round that we would in future be sent to places less strongly protected.

The new chaps coming from operational training units were on a good thing and were rubbing their hands with glee at the thought of completing their trips over comparatively quiet areas. It was quite plain however that the writing was on the wall for our Squadron as far as Bomber Command was concerned and recently we were transferred to a Coastal Command and Station in South West England. I don't think the censor would pass it if I told you the place – suffice it to say its in Cornwall. At the moment we are undergoing training in the new work, and although it has interesting aspects I'm afraid we are going to find it pretty tame after the sort of thing we have been doing for the past six months. Still the place has its advantages. For one thing we are in hotels billets about seven miles from the 'drome. These are very comfortable and as I have a room to myself, with hot and cold water, and a chest of drawers and a cupboard to my  clothes in (a very rare convenience) I feel rather bucked.

The weather from now until end of July will gradually get hotter and as the billets overlook a surf beach almost equal to some I've seen in Aussie it won't need a great deal of thought as to what we shall do with any spare time, which on this station will be at least one day a week, and if I know anything about our boys . . . a couple of half days without official sanction.

Well Tom, now you know as much about it as I do. The gods have been good to me in the past let's hope they smile on me during my stay in Coastal Command! After sixteen trips over some of the toughest targets in Germany perhaps they will let me get away with it here. I want more than anything else in the world to return to Melbourne. If I have to kick the bucket during this war then I'd rather do it for someone who really matters to me and me to them, over here they don't give a damn.

Regards to your people, and to your brother and wife and yourself.

"Wesley"
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July 6, 1942 ~

Letter from Dad to Wes

Dear Wesley,

It is almost three weeks since I received your letter of the 14th April. I made what may be aptly described as a very poor attempt to answer it last week but gave up after writing two pages. I am afraid that during recent years I have developed a highly mercurial temperament which is greatly influenced by current events. Fortunately, I have been able to refrain from voicing the criticism which naturally arises from ambiguities and anomalies appearing in the press. Obviously this is the only course to take as there are far too many active critics in our midst now.

You did not mention whether you had received my first letter or not so I must presume that it was lost in transit.

We were very thrilled to receive your letter and I have taken the liberty to permit quite a number of people read it. It was greatly appreciated. You certainly have “flair” for descriptive narrative. I understand that your descriptions of places and people seen on leave are of a very high standard. In fact your Mother told me recently that your Uncle (you'll know which one) was quite “nuts” about your letters.

However, you've most certainly had a variety of experiences. Sometimes, quite unworthily of course, I regret that I could not have shared some of them with you. By the way I was able to read the postmark on your letter. Is that OK?...

I have been in the VOC (House Guard) for some months now. Present indications are that it will be a pretty useful organisation for a defensive role. The nucleas of the force consists of keen and for the most part active men engaged ordinarily, in defense work...

Just to prove that the “spirits willing” I am also a qualified A.R.P. Warden Between times I do a little bit of gardening mostly vegetables I have rather ambitious plans in this regard for the Spring...

Most of the other boys we knew have migrated to various corners of this land of ours in one of the Services.

We dined at Stan's place last night. He is going into the R.A.A.F next week.

The sentiment expressed in the closing phase of your letter is quite a natural and healthy one and those of us who are privileged to know you earnestly hope that such a happy event as your home coming will soon be made possible.

In the meantime keep writing and look after yourself.

Cheerio Wes,

 "Tom"
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The foregoing letter & envelope was stamped :

RETURN TO SENDER ON
AIR BOARD ORDERS
from
Officer in Charge
R.A.A.F Base Post Office, London

Opened by CENSOR
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 31st July 1942 ~

Letter from Wesley's Mother to Dad

Dear Tom,

Thank you for your message of sympathy to Mr. Strong and myself in our great anxiety concerning Wesley.

I know Tom that you had a great regard for Wesley and he was a very precious son to us and altho' we knew the perilous life of an airman this has come as a staggering blow.

What can one do but hope and pray that we may yet hear he is alive. So many people have written to comfort me in this way.

Yours sincerely,

“E.P. Strong”
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Wesley was 22 years of age when declared MIA (missing in action)

He was one of 3486 Bomber Command Australians who died during WWII

The most costly missions were with RAF Bomber Command and Australian aircrews flew in virtually every major operation. Although their numbers amounted to less than 2 per cent of Australia's World War II enlistments, the 3486 men who were killed in Bomber Command accounted for almost 20 per cent of all Australian combat deaths. The squadron with the greatest losses - 1019 men - was 460 Squadron RAAF, which operated Vickers Wellington and then Avro Lancaster bombers from England.

 Air War Europe 1939 – 1945

Note: In his last letter to Dad, Wes sent a photo of the crew he was flying with and written in small print on the back of the photograph were the names of the RAF and RAAF crew with this note:

"The second pilot
a Canadian took this photograph of the crew,
just before we left Bomber Command
He was drowned two nights ago in some
heavy surf at the foot of a rocky headland
half a mile from our billet. Rotten luck"

Links

• RAAF (Royal Australian Air Force) WWII
• Avro Anson WWII
• Royal Airforce Base at Forres, Scotland
• Black Friday, November 7, 1941
• RAF St Eval Coastal Command, Cornwall, England

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HIGH FLIGHT

- by P/O John Gillespie Magee RCAF

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....

 Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, nor even eagle flew -
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.