My Service Story - part 4 of 4

Part 4 - Final part (www.syates.co.uk)

A week before we were picked up by the Allies, we had a visit from a Mousier Vatin and his daughter. They both spoke fluent English and we were able to have an interesting conversation. M. Vatin had spent some time in London before the war, staying at the Dorchester and the Savoy and visiting other UK cities. I understood from Maurice that he owned Forest De Bretonne, near La Mailleraye, so I presume he was quite wealthy. As a surprise his daughter produced a lovely homemade cake that she had made herself, especially for us. It was delicious and she was thrilled when we praised her efforts.

During my time with Maurice, I obtained some hard wood and was able to carve out a model of a spitfire on a stand. On the stand I inscribed “We are very grateful”. I presented it to Maurice and he thanked me profusely and then set it in pride of place on their sideboard. After Monsieur Vatin’s visit, the allies and Germans began shelling in earnest. Also a lot of German troop movements up and down the road made it imperative that Tommy and I spent a lot of time in our hideaway and the shelter at night. The shed door was locked, but the rabbits were free to run in and out. They had free range of the garden with the chickens and ducks.

We could hear a lot of heavy movement going up and down the road and the odd shouts in German all day. Two or three days before the allies arrived, Maurice came to the shed early one evening and told us that two German officers had commandeered his bedroom which was on the ground floor, and were sleeping like babies and would we like to see them! We crept out of the shed to the house. His bedroom windows were wide open and we looked in. Sure enough, the two German officers were sprawled on the bed snoring away. One of the soldiers had a wooden leg from the knee down and this he had removed and it lay on the foot of the bed; a sight that tickled Maurice’s sense of humour!

We took a chance I suppose, but as they were obviously exhausted, we were fairly safe. In the morning they left and did not even thank Maurice for his hospitality! Not even a cigarette!!

That same evening the shelling became much heavier, and we all moved to the shelter and spent a very sleepless night. At dawn the shelling stopped and all was quiet. Maurice discovered that the Germans at the bottom of the road had moved out, so we all returned to the house and tried to get some sleep.

An hour later we were awakened by an excited Yves calling us and saying that English soldiers were on the road outside. For a moment we thought he was mistaken, but looking through our spy hole, we could see that he was right and we quickly dressed and ran down stairs and out to the gate.

We were greeted by a British Army corporal coming into the garden, and Tommy exclaimed how great it was to see an English soldier. The very surprised corporal, with an extremely strong Welsh accent then asked who were we and how had we got there?

I explained that we were RAF and had been shot down and had lived with this French family for nearly two months to which he replied “you don’t look too bad for it!” He passed out cigarettes to Maurice and us as we conversed and he explained that he was a corporal in the South Wales Borderers Regiment and their camp headquarters were established just outside La Mallieraye village.

He told us he would have to take us to headquarters to meet his C.O., a Major, who would then arrange for us to be sent back behind the lines a soon as possible. On the way to Field Headquarters, Maurice asked if we could stay another night so we could have a going away party. I explained this to the Major when we met him and he spoke to Maurice in French and explained that this would not be possible. However, after a while he relented and agreed we could stay providing we were immediately issued with Army battledress, sewed on our stripes and brevies, and to be ready first thing the following morning. We were taken to the field stores and issued with the necessary garments etc., and returned to Maurice’s where Lucy sewed on our stripes and brevies. The reasoning behind this was that if the Germans pushed back, and we were caught, it was safer than being in civvies.

That evening we had a large meal, lots of wine and a jolly good time was had by all!

Next morning we said our goodbye’s, expressed our extreme gratitude and I personally thanked the family for literally saving my life and then we made our way to the field HQ where we boarded an army lorry and set off to Bayeau, a temporary holding station for escapees. We arrived in the afternoon at a large house and garden where a number of tents had been pitched. We were issued with blankets and allocated a tent. Luckily, as it was August it was warm and dry. That evening we were given a meal and told that we would be interrogated the next day.

It was here that I met Bill Cullen and Harry Pritchard again. They had spent some time with an American contingent before being handed over to the British to be taken to Bayeau. That evening they flew home to England and I lost track of them.

The next morning Tommy and I were interrogated by Army intelligence. After verification, we were told that we would be flown home to England and in the afternoon were taken to the aerodrome near Bayeau, put on a Dakota aircraft and flown to RAF Northholt, England.

On landing we went through customs, then given some cash to see us through. We then boarded a coach to London and the Marlborough Hotel at Marlborough Street station. On reaching the hotel we were allocated a room for six of us, given blankets and pillows and told to make ourselves comfortable on the floor!

The next morning we were given a thorough medical, given a new Army battledress, pants and vests, socks, etc. The other uniforms were destroyed. Again, we were sent to interrogation then back to the hotel.

The following day the RAF personnel of our group of returnees were taken with our belongings to the air ministry. I was once again given a thorough medical but this time by R.A.F. doctors and my head was x-rayed at different angles to ensure that I had not suffered a fractured skull. Thankfully I was passed A1 fit. The medical officer said that whoever had tended my wound had done a fine job.

Next day I was once again interrogated, but this time by RAF intelligence when I had to repeat my version of events and prove who I was. Eventually, I was given the all clear and welcomed home. Off I went, this time to RAF stores, where I was completely fitted out with full RAF kit and the Army uniform was once again destroyed.

Reporting to the Repatriation officer, I was issued with a travel warrant, given two months pay and sent on two weeks survivors leave and two weeks sick leave.

Before making my way home, and trying to save any shock to my family, I telephoned my sister and tried to disguise my voice. She immediately said “is that you Will?” (Will is my family name). It was obvious that the RAF had informed my family that I was safe and on my way home.

I spent a wonderful four weeks with family and friends in what was then, a small village, where everyone knew everyone. Whilst out and about I was stopped time and again and asked what had happened. Naturally, at that time I was unable to relay the series of events because of secrecy orders.

At the end of September 1944, my leave came to an end and I was posted to Morecambe, Lancashire, put in civilian billets with other aircrew personnel to wait for reallocation back to flying duties. During the two weeks I was there I met up with Harry Pritchard again who happened to live nearby and was on leave and, as you can image, had some good evenings together, catching up on the events that had befallen the pair of us.

My next posting came through. I was sent to RAF Jurby on the Isle of Man — a navigation flying school — as a staff wireless operator. I was allocated a staff pilot whom I flew with regularly, a warrant officer named Johnny Dwyer. We flew Ansons and/or Oxfords at Jurby. We flew cross-country trips with the pupil navigators navigating and I supplied them with the radio aids such as courses to steer (QDM’s) from different stations on route to assist them. Once or twice I had to get us back to base by radio when they got us lost.

Coming back to Jurby from a cross country training flight I received a message that the station was partially fogged in, cloud base 200 feet, and we would have to divert to Ronaldsway, a civilian aerodrome on the South of the island.

Johnny and I decided we would try to land at Jurby by radio (QGH). This caused a bit of a flap on the ground and they asked us to wait but eventually gave us the OK. I switched my intercom to allow Johnny to hear as I worked with the ground station D/F hut. As they gave instructions for course and height we landed safely and whilst taxing to dispersal, were asked to report to flying control!!!
Johnny said, “I guess you and I are in trouble”, and my reply really isn’t printable!

Walking into flying control we were met by the Flying Control Officer and Training Squadron Commander. We whipped up a smart salute and waited for the worst!

“Warrant Officer Dwyer and Flight Sergeant Yates, you both put this station flying control and D.F. station in a real flap”. “Your successful landing and control does you proud and I congratulate you both. Keep up the good work”. Turning to the Flying Control Officer he continued… “It would be a good idea to start some QGH practice for others”.

Short after this I was given the job of Signals Briefing Officer and assisted the ground signals training officer in setting up equipment for signals instructor training. I sat the course and passed and continued to fly on and off with Johnny as well as handling briefing officer duties.

At this time my promotion came through and I became Warrant Officer Yates.

Having met my future wife, Olive, at Christmas 1944, we married in 1945. Olive was a WAAF, service as a cook in the Officers Mess and we discussed my de-mob as VE day had passed but not knowing what the job situation was like in civvie street I decided to re-engage for three years and four years on the Reserve. When my re-engagement came through, I was asked to go to air ministry in London for an interview covering re-engagement and information teams.

I arrived at MI6 and was ushered into an office where sat an Air Vice Marshall, a Group Captain and a Wing Commander. They discussed my Air Force service, married status etc and explained that I would be required to tour the countries aerodromes with two other N.C.O’s and a Squadron Leader to assist airmen on re-engagement.

Having been accepted, I moved from Jurby to London Air Ministry Billets, Baker Street. Each Team travelled to different aerodromes, set up office for a few days and interviewed airmen with queries on service and engagement. Then back to Air Ministry for briefings.

Two months later I was sent to a permanent station with a Wing Commander Geddes and he and I set up an office in RAF Petreavie Castle, Near Dunfermline.

Early 1947 and I returned to flying duties and low and behold I was sent to Middleton-St-George, my old Squadron Station, which was now an RAF navigation school, as a Staff Wireless Operator. Once again I flew Oxfords and Wellingtons although each time I flew in a Wellington I was always airsick, so was told to report to the medical officer. The MO confirmed that as I had crashed in a Wellington at OTU, it was probably a delayed reaction and although I did not want to stop flying, he grounded me for a month.

During that month I did numerous duties, including signals briefing, and half way through the month, our signals officer asked if I had completed an instructors course and as I had, and passed, he recommended me to go to South Cerney, near Cirencester, as a Signals Instructor at the Pilots flying school.

During my time at South Cerney, as well as signals instructor, I had to take my turn on Station Duties such as orderly Flight Sergeant. Although at Jurby I was promoted to Warrant Officer, someone in Air Ministry decided to alter Rank names such as Signaller1, Signaller 2, Master Signaller. I was dropped back to Signaller1, equivalent to Flight Sergeant. Then it was changed back again to our original rank names except that we were dropped a rank and I again ended up Flight Sergeant Yates with 9 years seniority. This happened to a lot of aircrew.

None the less, I applied to sign on for the full term, but on receiving my application back from Air Ministry, it was accepted, providing I dropped my Rank to L.A.C. This I could not accept. My Station Signals Officer endeavoured to get the Ministry to give me my rank of Flight Sergeant, but to no avail, so sadly I declined the reengagement and left the Service. For all that, I still consider the R.A.F. a wonderful service to have been involved with.

Post Script

I am proud to have flow with Wilf, Bill, Chuck, Pete, Harry and Stan during our tour at Middleton-St-George. We were like brothers, looking out for each other, with Wilf our leader — a wonderful pal to us all.

My regret is that they are not here with me today to talk over our time together. Such happy memories.

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