John Dilworth - RAF Voluntary Reserve and Army
17/08/10 11:34
“When war was declared in 1939 I was sixteen years old.
As soon as I was seventeen I applied to join the RAF. I was called to Cardington Base for tests and was very happy when accepted into the RAF Voluntary Reserve. I was on Deferred Service and given a badge to signify my status. I wore it with pride and waited with eager anticipation to begin my training. But when my nineteenth birthday passed I decided that I had better remind them that I was still waiting! My two older brothers and one sister were already in the forces, another sister was a civilian nurse and my girlfriend (later to become my wife) was serving in the Auxiliary Territorial Army. My father was an officer with an old Scottish battalion, the Cameronians, and based in Glasgow. I felt left out and was determined to do my bit so I wrote to the Air Ministry demanding to be called up. They did respond but it was not what I wanted to hear. I was to wait until I was called for. Still impatient to serve I wrote again, this time asking if I could join as a gunner or wireless operator if that would speed up my entry into the RAF. The response was negative. I had been selected for pilot training and I must wait till called for.
At that time I worked in an office alongside an ex RSM. He listened patiently to my grumbles and when I told him that I might enlist in the army instead because I was so tired of waiting, he advised me that the best regiment to join was the Life Guards. I had never heard of them but I wrote to the Air Ministry again, asked to be removed from the list for pilot training and volunteered for the Life Guards. After an interview with Colonel Lane-Fox at Combermere Barracks at Windsor and producing the two references as required in 1942 I was accepted. I was called up a month later. At last I was in the war and ready to do my duty!
.I had trained at Windsor for a few months when a request came through - volunteers were wanted for the Glider Pilot Regiment. I had always wanted to fly so as soon as this opportunity arose I grabbed it. I applied and was interviewed by the RAF officers and was accepted and made Corporal.
We were trained on Salisbury Plain for a few weeks and then transferred to my first airbase, Booker Airfield, High Wycombe. I was taught to fly Tiger Moths.
The cockpit was open and so we wore helmet, goggles and flying Jacket. We still wore our army boots which scraped on the metal floor of the aircraft. The pupil sat in front of the instructor. I did quite well but had a little difficulty with my landings. I blamed the boots! It was decided that I would benefit from extra training on a landing simulator based at London Aero Club. This was some distance away so I was taken there in a chauffeur driven car. I was very pleased with this arrangement but the lady driver was less so. She was more used to driving high ranking officers and VIPs.
That course successfully completed I was made sergeant and moved to Shobden Base where I was taught to fly the Hotspur Glider by RAF Instructors. This was very different from my flying experience so far. The Hotspur was cigar shaped, long and narrow. It could take about eight passengers but it would have been a squashed ride. The pilots sat one behind the other.
After more training at Stoke Orchard base I was then sent to North Luffenham to begin training to fly the Horsa Glider. The Hotspur was a small glider so I was struck at once by the size of the Horsa. It was big! The pilots were taught in pairs. One would pilot the glider with an instructor and the second would go into the Tug plane and then vice versa. The tug was a Whitley, a plane used for parachute training. In the Whitley the task was to make one’s way to the rear of the plane to secure the yoke when the glider was released. This involved edging past the large gap through which the paratroopers jumped and through which I did not want to fall.
I was posted to “A” Squadron at Harwell just after the D Day landings. My future wife very proudly sewed my Wings Badge to her ATS shoulder bag to show the world that she was “going out” with a pilot from the Army Glider Regiment. Over sixty years later she still has the bag!
The training was intensive with constant practice – I had got the hang of landing by then! We did not know when or where we would we would be ordered into action although there were plenty of rumours. Projects were started and then dropped because of the speed of the allied advance.
In September we were given instructions. By this time I was twenty one years of age. We were to take troops and supplies to Arnhem where a big airborne operation was to take place known as Operation Market Garden. For three days Tugs (Sterling, Dakota and Halifax) and gliders were lined up on the runways. At the sides the two pilots and their cargoes moved up to be loaded into the next available Horsa. Wave after wave of aircraft took off. My co-pilot and I stood with our “cargo”, six or so soldiers of the Free Polish Army and a jeep and trailer. As we started to load we realised that there was a big problem. The Polish soldiers had the wrong sort of jeep. They had a jeep with a rigid windscreen and we needed a jeep with a drop –down windscreen to fit through the loading door. We had to move aside and allow the next crew onto what should have been our glider.
My co-pilot and I were sent to another airfield to prepare for an extra lift to Arnheim. We slept in temporary accommodation, tents pitched by the airfield near Newbury. There was a delay and we were told that the Tugs were not available because they were being serviced.
Word came through that the offensive had been a failure and had been cancelled. A strong enemy force had defeated the allied attack. It was a sad time. Many of my good friends and comrades had died or been seriously injured.
Training continued and I travelled to many airfields collecting gliders to be used by those squadrons who had been at Arnhem.
In December 1944 my girlfriend and I were married. I had a weekend’s leave and the wedding took place in a church close to my base in Rivenhall. We both wore our uniform.
Training intensified for the next offensive, and lessons learned from the mistakes of Arnhem were put into practice. We took off and landed constantly when the weather allowed. We practised mass landing. We were sent on refresher courses which included “blind flying” in a Tiger Moth, from Exeter Airfield. We learnt to pinpoint our landing area. We had no idea where or when we would be sent. Rumours abounded.
One of my very sad duties was to accompany the coffins of those who died in training as they were taken home. I accompanied the undertaker and the coffin in the Guards van, attended the funeral and visited the bereaved families.
One day in March we received our briefing. The operation was called “Varsity” The allies were going to push into Germany and cross the Rhine. Much opposition was anticipated. The Rhine crossing was carefully planned. Composite units were to land together to become an efficient fighting force as quickly as possible.
The bar in the mess was shut the day before but on the day itself the pilots were served their morning cup of tea in bed!
This time we had the right equipment and when our turn came we took to the air. The tug pilot navigated and after about two hours we were close to our landing area. This was our first active service and we did not know what lay ahead of us. We released the Tow Rope and after about five or six minutes of free flight we landed safely, as planned, in a ploughed field, though in the face of enemy fire. We landed near the haystack identified at the briefing. The artillery had bombarded the German positions earlier and everywhere was covered in smoke. It was perhaps because of this that some American paratroopers were dropped in the wrong area and we saw many dead. Some had been shot as their parachutes got tangled in the trees and their bodies hung still. We acted swiftly as trained. I opened the doors and men and jeep rolled out. The field was full of gliders, men and equipment. There was a lot of noise, gliders splintering, men shouting, engines running, weapons being fired. Not all gliders landed as successfully as ours. For a while it was chaos but the training kicked in and the soldiers rapidly got sorted and moved forward. We were armed with rifles which we fired at the enemy as we made our way as briefed to a farmhouse which was to be the headquarters of the Lieutenant-General (I-C). We were to guard him. This meant that we were away from the thick of the fighting and relatively safe. This was because pilots were a valuable resource and would be needed again.
A German prisoner of war was ordered to dig a slit trench for us for shelter. We lined it with American parachutes and settled in. The American paratroopers carried two and discarded the second emergency parachute after landing. They were made of silk. It was quite comfortable until a number of American Liberators came over flying very low and dropping very large canisters containing supplies. Some of these landed dangerously close to us and one split open very near us as it hit the ground. Its contents spilt out over the earth – hundreds of pairs of pyjamas!
Glider pilots were then ordered home and we travelled back in a Dakota. The plane landed in a civilian airfield at Lyneham. The staff were unsure how to deal with soldiers returning from the battle front and decided that we should fill in the same forms as civilians. We were required to fill in forms answering questions such as, “Who authorised your journey?” and, “Where have travelled from?” Tired soldiers complained and tempers frayed. Someone with common sense intervened and let us through quickly.
Some of my friends were then sent to India with the Glider regiment in preparation for an anticipated attack on Japan and were forgotten. ( I wonder if they are still there!)
Once home I successfully completed the 1st Pilots Course at Brize Norton.
The war ended. We celebrated Victory in Europe in May 1945 and Victory in Japan in August the same year. But I did not get demobbed. Instead we were sent to Palestine where a terrorist bullet missed me by inches as I travelled by train. I was lucky again when a terrorist bomb blew up the railway line but not the train whilst going on leave to Cyprus.
I was finally demobbed in April 1947. I was twenty three.
Whilst writing this service record I am very conscious of my modest contribution to the history of the Glider Pilot Regiment. Some pilots took part in airborne operations in Sicily, the D Day landings, Arnheim and the Rhine Crossing. It is their exploits which I remember and honour.”
As soon as I was seventeen I applied to join the RAF. I was called to Cardington Base for tests and was very happy when accepted into the RAF Voluntary Reserve. I was on Deferred Service and given a badge to signify my status. I wore it with pride and waited with eager anticipation to begin my training. But when my nineteenth birthday passed I decided that I had better remind them that I was still waiting! My two older brothers and one sister were already in the forces, another sister was a civilian nurse and my girlfriend (later to become my wife) was serving in the Auxiliary Territorial Army. My father was an officer with an old Scottish battalion, the Cameronians, and based in Glasgow. I felt left out and was determined to do my bit so I wrote to the Air Ministry demanding to be called up. They did respond but it was not what I wanted to hear. I was to wait until I was called for. Still impatient to serve I wrote again, this time asking if I could join as a gunner or wireless operator if that would speed up my entry into the RAF. The response was negative. I had been selected for pilot training and I must wait till called for.
At that time I worked in an office alongside an ex RSM. He listened patiently to my grumbles and when I told him that I might enlist in the army instead because I was so tired of waiting, he advised me that the best regiment to join was the Life Guards. I had never heard of them but I wrote to the Air Ministry again, asked to be removed from the list for pilot training and volunteered for the Life Guards. After an interview with Colonel Lane-Fox at Combermere Barracks at Windsor and producing the two references as required in 1942 I was accepted. I was called up a month later. At last I was in the war and ready to do my duty!
.I had trained at Windsor for a few months when a request came through - volunteers were wanted for the Glider Pilot Regiment. I had always wanted to fly so as soon as this opportunity arose I grabbed it. I applied and was interviewed by the RAF officers and was accepted and made Corporal.
We were trained on Salisbury Plain for a few weeks and then transferred to my first airbase, Booker Airfield, High Wycombe. I was taught to fly Tiger Moths.
The cockpit was open and so we wore helmet, goggles and flying Jacket. We still wore our army boots which scraped on the metal floor of the aircraft. The pupil sat in front of the instructor. I did quite well but had a little difficulty with my landings. I blamed the boots! It was decided that I would benefit from extra training on a landing simulator based at London Aero Club. This was some distance away so I was taken there in a chauffeur driven car. I was very pleased with this arrangement but the lady driver was less so. She was more used to driving high ranking officers and VIPs.
That course successfully completed I was made sergeant and moved to Shobden Base where I was taught to fly the Hotspur Glider by RAF Instructors. This was very different from my flying experience so far. The Hotspur was cigar shaped, long and narrow. It could take about eight passengers but it would have been a squashed ride. The pilots sat one behind the other.
After more training at Stoke Orchard base I was then sent to North Luffenham to begin training to fly the Horsa Glider. The Hotspur was a small glider so I was struck at once by the size of the Horsa. It was big! The pilots were taught in pairs. One would pilot the glider with an instructor and the second would go into the Tug plane and then vice versa. The tug was a Whitley, a plane used for parachute training. In the Whitley the task was to make one’s way to the rear of the plane to secure the yoke when the glider was released. This involved edging past the large gap through which the paratroopers jumped and through which I did not want to fall.
I was posted to “A” Squadron at Harwell just after the D Day landings. My future wife very proudly sewed my Wings Badge to her ATS shoulder bag to show the world that she was “going out” with a pilot from the Army Glider Regiment. Over sixty years later she still has the bag!
The training was intensive with constant practice – I had got the hang of landing by then! We did not know when or where we would we would be ordered into action although there were plenty of rumours. Projects were started and then dropped because of the speed of the allied advance.
In September we were given instructions. By this time I was twenty one years of age. We were to take troops and supplies to Arnhem where a big airborne operation was to take place known as Operation Market Garden. For three days Tugs (Sterling, Dakota and Halifax) and gliders were lined up on the runways. At the sides the two pilots and their cargoes moved up to be loaded into the next available Horsa. Wave after wave of aircraft took off. My co-pilot and I stood with our “cargo”, six or so soldiers of the Free Polish Army and a jeep and trailer. As we started to load we realised that there was a big problem. The Polish soldiers had the wrong sort of jeep. They had a jeep with a rigid windscreen and we needed a jeep with a drop –down windscreen to fit through the loading door. We had to move aside and allow the next crew onto what should have been our glider.
My co-pilot and I were sent to another airfield to prepare for an extra lift to Arnheim. We slept in temporary accommodation, tents pitched by the airfield near Newbury. There was a delay and we were told that the Tugs were not available because they were being serviced.
Word came through that the offensive had been a failure and had been cancelled. A strong enemy force had defeated the allied attack. It was a sad time. Many of my good friends and comrades had died or been seriously injured.
Training continued and I travelled to many airfields collecting gliders to be used by those squadrons who had been at Arnhem.
In December 1944 my girlfriend and I were married. I had a weekend’s leave and the wedding took place in a church close to my base in Rivenhall. We both wore our uniform.
Training intensified for the next offensive, and lessons learned from the mistakes of Arnhem were put into practice. We took off and landed constantly when the weather allowed. We practised mass landing. We were sent on refresher courses which included “blind flying” in a Tiger Moth, from Exeter Airfield. We learnt to pinpoint our landing area. We had no idea where or when we would be sent. Rumours abounded.
One of my very sad duties was to accompany the coffins of those who died in training as they were taken home. I accompanied the undertaker and the coffin in the Guards van, attended the funeral and visited the bereaved families.
One day in March we received our briefing. The operation was called “Varsity” The allies were going to push into Germany and cross the Rhine. Much opposition was anticipated. The Rhine crossing was carefully planned. Composite units were to land together to become an efficient fighting force as quickly as possible.
The bar in the mess was shut the day before but on the day itself the pilots were served their morning cup of tea in bed!
This time we had the right equipment and when our turn came we took to the air. The tug pilot navigated and after about two hours we were close to our landing area. This was our first active service and we did not know what lay ahead of us. We released the Tow Rope and after about five or six minutes of free flight we landed safely, as planned, in a ploughed field, though in the face of enemy fire. We landed near the haystack identified at the briefing. The artillery had bombarded the German positions earlier and everywhere was covered in smoke. It was perhaps because of this that some American paratroopers were dropped in the wrong area and we saw many dead. Some had been shot as their parachutes got tangled in the trees and their bodies hung still. We acted swiftly as trained. I opened the doors and men and jeep rolled out. The field was full of gliders, men and equipment. There was a lot of noise, gliders splintering, men shouting, engines running, weapons being fired. Not all gliders landed as successfully as ours. For a while it was chaos but the training kicked in and the soldiers rapidly got sorted and moved forward. We were armed with rifles which we fired at the enemy as we made our way as briefed to a farmhouse which was to be the headquarters of the Lieutenant-General (I-C). We were to guard him. This meant that we were away from the thick of the fighting and relatively safe. This was because pilots were a valuable resource and would be needed again.
A German prisoner of war was ordered to dig a slit trench for us for shelter. We lined it with American parachutes and settled in. The American paratroopers carried two and discarded the second emergency parachute after landing. They were made of silk. It was quite comfortable until a number of American Liberators came over flying very low and dropping very large canisters containing supplies. Some of these landed dangerously close to us and one split open very near us as it hit the ground. Its contents spilt out over the earth – hundreds of pairs of pyjamas!
Glider pilots were then ordered home and we travelled back in a Dakota. The plane landed in a civilian airfield at Lyneham. The staff were unsure how to deal with soldiers returning from the battle front and decided that we should fill in the same forms as civilians. We were required to fill in forms answering questions such as, “Who authorised your journey?” and, “Where have travelled from?” Tired soldiers complained and tempers frayed. Someone with common sense intervened and let us through quickly.
Some of my friends were then sent to India with the Glider regiment in preparation for an anticipated attack on Japan and were forgotten. ( I wonder if they are still there!)
Once home I successfully completed the 1st Pilots Course at Brize Norton.
The war ended. We celebrated Victory in Europe in May 1945 and Victory in Japan in August the same year. But I did not get demobbed. Instead we were sent to Palestine where a terrorist bullet missed me by inches as I travelled by train. I was lucky again when a terrorist bomb blew up the railway line but not the train whilst going on leave to Cyprus.
I was finally demobbed in April 1947. I was twenty three.
Whilst writing this service record I am very conscious of my modest contribution to the history of the Glider Pilot Regiment. Some pilots took part in airborne operations in Sicily, the D Day landings, Arnheim and the Rhine Crossing. It is their exploits which I remember and honour.”