Jean Cleminson shares her experiences as a wireless operator part of the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force (WAAF) during World War 2. She details her experience in the Y Service, an essential part of British intelligence operations, from working in Dunstable to Bletchley Park. Jean recounts her time training in wireless operations in 1941 at the Post Office in Cardiff. After studying in Compton Bassett, Bedfordshire and Staffordshire, she was assigned a post at an ostensible meteorological station in Dunstable. At Dunstable, Jean carried out clandestine Y section work and intercepted reports from Germany. She was informed to never speak about the work undertaken to anyone, including her family. She reflects on the late-night watch hours and quiet atmosphere in the station, as well as maintaining a best friendship for life. Years later, Jean revisited the Dunstable station. Whilst difficult to find, she slowly came to the realisation it had turned into a cracker factory! Jean’s account serves as a testimony to the dedication and resilience of those in secret and often underrepresented war roles. The story highlights Jean’s incredible contribution to the war and the significance women played in the war effort.

Called up to service in 1946, Gordon joined an RAF maintenance unit as an electrician before supporting the Berlin Airlift in Wunstorf, Hanover. He recalls a sweet scent in the air there, which he later speculated may have been the smell of death. Though servicemen experienced some hostility from German residents, Gordon empathised with their situation having seen Liverpool flattened during the Blitz. Interactions with locals were usually cordial, however, and Gordon even befriended and ate with a German family. With aircraft supplies sparse throughout the airlift, maintenance units had to think on their feet and be resourceful. Gordon’s responsibilities included inspecting aircraft, adjusting planes’ carbon par regulators mid-flight, and mending faulty engine magnetos. He describes two plane crashes during his time at Wunstorf, one of which proved fatal. In his time off, Gordon practised photography, relaxed in RAF Malcolm Clubs, and ate in lakeside cafés. As a non-smoker, he rarely spent his own money since cigarettes became currency in postwar Germany. He remembers skiing and tobogganing in the Harz Mountains during R&R breaks. Gordon found his time in the RAF enjoyable and interesting. His story sheds light on Germany’s postwar recovery and the vast operation behind the Berlin Airlift.

Geoffrey Wellum discusses his nail-biting experience flying into battle in Malta - with no bullets. The story begins at Biggin Hill station, where Geoffrey began the deadly RAF training; during this time, Geoffrey would take his 'first spin' in a Harvard training plane (an American design first requested by Britain's RAF in 1938 during WWII). In the interview, Geoffrey shares his experiences of the rigorous and often life threatening training exercises: "Three people died during training but you can never think it'll be you ... if you let your imagination run away with you, you may as well pack it in." Upon arrival in Malta, Geoffrey was shocked to see the bullets being removed from his plane in preparation for take off. The reason for this was to reduce the weight and therefore the fuel consumption of the Spitfire, to hopefully give the RAF an edge against the infamous Luftwaffe. However, before even taking flight, Geoffrey found his worst enemy to be the desperately humid climate of Malta,  after suffering through severe headaches and problems with his sight, it was deduced that Geoffrey had an issue with his sinus and was promptly rushed to hospital to have a hole drilled into his head to relieve the pressure while flying. Finally, during the battle itself, the fear of invasion felt incredibly real, so Geoffrey fought hard to defend his country from the Luftwaffe forces. Needless 'point scoring' and 'shots landed' were of little importance to Geoffrey as he focussed on protecting both his country and his fellow pilots - the thought of defeat never once entered his mind. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC) in 1941 in recognition of gallantry displayed in flying operations against the enemy.