Fred Gardiner sat with his companion on the rear floor of a military aircraft, flying low over the English Channel. Below them, he could see Brighton with great visibility. Missing in action for 5 weeks, Fred looked down at his grandmother’s house, recalling she would have no idea whether or not he was alive. Born in Banbury in 1923, Fred Gardiner volunteered for the Royal Air Force after war broke out, not wishing to be drafted into the army. He trained as a wireless operator air gunner. With his fellow squadron, Fred completed 4 successful military operations on the Lancaster. His 5th operation was to Manheim, Germany. On route, Fred’s aircraft, the Lancaster was hit by a Messerschmitt Bf 110, a German fighter-bomber, where Fred recounts horrific moments of shells, bullets and deafening noise. The aircraft caught fire, and Fred knew he had to evacuate imminently. After releasing the bomb from the aircraft, Fred escaped through the rear and made his exit, parachuting through the night sky. He landed with no shoes, socks and no clue what country he was in. After spending the night, Fred came across a man in a horse and cart. Fred surrendered, with the man escorting him to safety, beginning his dangerous adventure back to the UK: hiding in ditches, encounters with resistance members, near-misses with armed German soldiers, escorted by bicycle, car, on foot, and through the day and night. Fred’s story is a fascinating testimony, revealing how incredibly fortunate he was to survive, both in the air, and in his subsequent escape. By circumstance, it makes Legasee feel lucky to have his memories to share.

Fred was a teenager when his home was destroyed in a bombing raid. At the age of eighteen he volunteered for the RAF, trained in gunnery and became the tail gunner in a Lancaster bomber. He took part in the nighttime bombing of Germany and, against the odds, survived 45 missions. There were some close moments and during this period he lost most of his friends in combat. After the war he had a recurring nightmare where, among a landscape of crashed aircraft, there was a space reserved for his bomber. At the start of the Berlin Airlift he was posted to Gatow as an intelligence officer, where his unit at first worked in a tent. Despite misgivings regarding its feasibility the Airlift went ahead anyway, initially using Dakotas and building up to larger aircraft. His billet was at the end of the runway, and at first he had trouble sleeping as the noise was constant, 24 hours a day. The Soviets were close by and made things awkward but never directly interfered although the local population were terrified that the Allies would leave them for the Russians. The devastation caused by bombing in Berlin was awful and the civilians were in poverty, although the airlift ration was about the same as those in Britain. While on duty a plane carrying coal crashed on take-off, killing all the crew. He served in Berlin for the entire duration of the Airlift and felt that it was better than bombing the city.

Gwyn Lloyd Hughes talks about his life journey from Kragllechan Farm near Ruthin, North Wales, his life in the RAF, and as a pilot, and ends with his later years as a farmer and his return to Wales. Gwyn joined the RAF in early 1944 as a flight engineer, after wanting to be a pilot. He trained with the Air Training Corps, flying Tiger Moths, and served with 77 Squadron, completing operations in Halifax bombers, including missions over France. He shares his experiences of some missions, including experiencing flak and being attacked on two occasions by enemy aircraft. He reflects on the camaraderie with fellow airmen who he calls “all … one family” who would “do anything for each other”; but also reflects on their loss, asking “why do the good blokes always go? Why do the good die young?” After being demobbed in 1948, Gwyn moved to Transport Command, where he flew during the Berlin Airlift. He talks proudly about his role and how the work they did saved lives by delivering essential supplies including food and flour. Finally after the war Gwyn struggled to find work and moved to Zimbabwe for a job with Cable and Wireless. Leaving aviation and engineering behind completely in the 50s, he became a farmer but lost his farm during the political upheaval in the 1990s.