Thursday, 7 March 2019

Acknowledging contribution: International Women's Day 2019. Miss Celia Macdonald of the Isles ‘who has been a particularly good friend’


Miss Celia Macdonald of the Isles ‘who has been a particularly good friend’


In April 2009, the great nephew of one of Australia’s Battle of Britain pilots contacted me. He had heard I was researching the Battle and wondered if I would be interested in William Henry ‘Bill’ Millington Jr’s diaries and letters. Would I, ever! In the parcel was a ‘last letter’, given to Miss Celia Macdonald of the Isles to pass onto the Millington family in the event of Bill’s death. It was accompanied by Miss Macdonald’s condolence note to Bill’s mother, Elizabeth. These had been offered to a major collecting institution which had knocked them back.
Lady Frances Ryder and Miss Macdonald ran the Dominion and Allied Services Hospitality Scheme, an important social organisation for Australian and other Allied servicemen and women. The Scheme was well recognised and appreciated by those who enjoyed ‘wonderful leaves while serving in the United Kingdom’ so I wondered why the letters had been declined. I recalled an article published in Wings in 2007 in which the author had unsuccessfully sought information about it so thought perhaps it and its significance to Australians had faded from contemporary memory.[i] But it was not that.
According to Bill’s great nephew, the institution’s representative told him that ‘Miss Macdonald was a euphemism and not a real person’.[ii] A quick internet check indicated that Miss Celia Macdonald of the Isles appears in The Peerage and had been awarded an OBE and later advanced to CBE for her work with the organisation.[iii] So, not a euphemism, and very real. Someone had got it wrong. That, then, was my cue to discover more about the Dominion and Allied Services Hospitality Scheme as well as Miss Celia Macdonald—unrecognised by a major military archive—and her role in the life and death of one of Australia’s Battle of Britain pilots.
Although non-British servicemen during the Great War received hospitality from the War Chest Club, the Anzac Buffet and the Red Cross, Lady Frances Ryder’s father, the 5th Earl of Harrowby, and his wife, believed Australian mothers would be ‘suffering agonies’ at the thought of being separated from their sons and so they decided to do what they could to alleviate their anxieties.[iv] This concern was based on strong connections with Australia. Lord Harrowby first visited in 1886 and admired Australia and her ‘sturdy sons’, making a special study of Australian affairs. In addition, his brother, Captain the Hon. Robert Ryder, who was aide-de-camp to George Ruthven Le Hunte, governor of South Australia from 1 July 1903 until 18 February 1909, had married an Australian.[v] The Dominion Officers’ Hospitality Scheme was launched in May 1917 when Lord and Lady Harrowby opened the doors of their London residence to visiting officers and convalescents.[vi]
Lady Harrowby and her daughter considered it ‘a privilege to do something to brighten the lives of officers and men on leave and in hospital’ and threw themselves wholeheartedly into what became ‘a very personal work’[vii]. They were assisted by Helen Wallis who took on the role of organising secretary. Joyce Fry, who hailed from Queensland, joined them at a later date.[viii] In addition, Lady Frances invited Miss Celia Macdonald, the only daughter of Sir Alexander and Lady Bosville Macdonald of the Isles, to join her in welcoming visitors and developing a network of hosts and hostesses.[ix] And they were successful. The Harrowbys alone received 13,000 officers while 600 hostesses throughout England and Scotland entertained over 8200 officers, including 2000 Australians.[x]
Lady Frances and Miss Macdonald had much in common. They were of similar ages—born on 7 August 1888 and 28 January 1889 respectively—background, character and interests. Both lived a life of privilege; they were educated at home by governesses and enjoyed comfortable childhoods. As was usual with young ladies of their class, they were presented at court; Lady Frances in June 1906 and Miss Macdonald in 1908. After their presentations, their paths continually crossed as they made the usual round of dances, house parties and country weekends.[xi]
Both were staunch churchwomen—Lady Frances, in particular, was strongly against divorce and, in later years, divorcées were excluded from her hostess list—and devoted to their charities.[xii] They were kind, thoughtful, genuinely concerned for the welfare of their military friends and had the knack of putting people at their ease, keeping the conversation flowing with little effort, with Miss Macdonald in particular, often maintaining half a dozen at a time, all while pouring the tea and passing sandwiches.[xiii]
Miss Macdonald was warm, never failing in gaiety and had an infectious laugh. She was musical and played the piano and violin. She was a talented soprano and passionate member of the Bach Choir. After she came out, she took over the running of the scout troop in the village of Rudston and was, in the words of her nephew, constantly ‘up to some good works as it was not in her nature to sit and do nothing’.[xiv]
The efforts of Lady Harrowby, Lady Frances and Miss Macdonald were publically recognised on 27 June 1919 when they were appointed to the Civil Division of the Most Excellent Order: Lady Harrowby was made a Dame Commander; her daughter a Commander; and Miss Macdonald an Officer.[xv] The Scheme had fostered such great international relations that, rather than allow it to lapse after the war, ‘prominent politicians’ who recognised its ‘imperial value’ suggested working with the young people of the Empire. Accordingly, the new Dominion Students’ Hospitality Scheme catered to students taking up places in Britain’s universities.[xvi]
Lord Harrowby’s London residence proved inadequate and so a new base was required. Lord Cadogan offered a favourable rent at 21B Cadogan Gardens.[xvii] It wasn’t long before a regular stream of male and female undergraduates, Rhodes Scholars, military cadets and anyone else who had arrived in England without friends but with an appropriate letter of introduction, made 21B their second home.[xviii] Miss Macdonald left in 1919 but rejoined Lady Frances in 1922 and they continued to work together until Lady Frances was forced to retire in 1933 because of ill health.[xix] Miss Macdonald then took over the running and her contribution was again recognised when she was advanced to CBE in 1937.[xx]
With war imminent, Air Ministry adopted the Scheme for the benefit of Commonwealth personnel, renaming it the Dominion and Allied Services Hospitality Scheme. Lady Frances came out of retirement and resumed her position beside Miss Macdonald at the tea table. They expanded their card files, increased the hostess network and appointed regional coordinators. They recruited new helpers who typed welcoming letters to new arrivals—which Miss Macdonald signed—and sent out invitations complete with host addresses, details of the nearest train station, a discrete slip of paper outlining appropriate tips for household staff, and an exhortation to send a wire to advise their arrival time.[xxi]
Lady Frances and Miss Macdonald did their utmost to match their military clients with suitable hosts. They asked where they would like to spend their leaves, what sports they played, and whether they wanted a quiet break or a busy time.[xxii] For the most part, they were successful. When Wade Rogers arrived at Cadogan Gardens, he longed for a country family and home cooking. He was sent to the Pillings in East Yorkshire. Dick Pilling pressed Wade to call him ‘Uncle Dick’ and the young Australian felt so comfortable he returned many times.[xxiii] Referrals were not always as successful, however. Yorkshire hospitality had little to offer someone as lively as Pat Hughes.
He soon discovered that ‘the local families are either terribly county or else strict church goers’. The highlights were ‘an occasional game of tennis with several of the fair widows of the district’, but the lowlights were ‘evenings at home which consist of my slowly sipping a glass of muck after struggling through an incredibly indigestible dinner’. Then, recounted Pat, the hostess would ‘spring to her feet, clap her hands and after gazing around for several minutes’ have ‘a brain wave’ and ‘exclaim, “I know let’s play sardines”—Ye gods, our existence is limited’.[xxiv]
Northumbrian-born Bill Millington, who had arrived in Adelaide, South Australia on his 9th birthday, had a much better experience of British hospitality. Miss Macdonald wrote to him after he was notified of his short service commission, welcoming him to England and inviting him to come along ‘to have tea with us’ at any time ‘as you will always find somebody here’.[xxv]
Bill was drawn almost immediately to Miss Macdonald. Perhaps her comfortable demeanour reminded him of his mother, perhaps he delighted in accounts of her stay in Adelaide during her world tour in 1936–37.[xxvi] Perhaps it was their shared adherence to the strong moral principles of scout law: whenever he wasn’t dreaming of flying, Bill had channelled all his energies into the scouting movement, graduating from cub, to scout and rover, winning many achievement badges on the way.[xxvii] Whatever the basis, they developed a warm empathy.[xxviii]
The opportunities offered to young airmen were vastly different from anything they had experienced before. Geoff Cornish enjoyed his host’s priceless collection of etchings of Heath Robinson inventions.[xxix] David Scholes, guest of Tom Maclean, the Earl of Ancum’s gamekeeper, went fishing and hunting on the Monteviot Estate.[xxx] Bill Millington accepted ‘numerous invitations to dinners etc. Last night I went with a party to the open air theatre in Regent’s Park ... I’m going to a garden party on Saturday.’ He had a ‘very pleasant evening’ with Lady Douglas Smith and her daughters, joined Sir Stuart and Lady Sankey for lunch, and chatted with Lord Athlone, ‘brother to Queen Mary and former governor-general to South Africa’. He lunched at the Café Anglais, followed by an afternoon at Boodle’s, a gentlemen’s club.[xxxi] Amusing as all that was, he liked nothing better than being with family and friends, and when he visited Ruckley Grange he had both. He was embraced by the Reid Walkers, a welcoming family who did not stand on ceremony. His first Christmas in England since he was a lad of eight was a warm, happy affair en famille. He had ‘a very enjoyable time’, full of ‘hunting, felling trees, shooting, skating and tobogganing’ and trimming the Christmas tree.[xxxii]
Bill accepted the Reid Walkers’ prosperity as a matter of course but John Crossman was dazzled by his hosts’ ‘big Buick and three Standards and ... staff of servants. It must cost 40 pounds a week to run that house.’ In addition, ‘we sit at dinner and drink champagne and look absolutely it. There’s no doubt how these people do live well.’[xxxiii]
As war progressed, Lady Frances and Miss Macdonald entertained Polish, Czech, Norwegian and Dutch servicemen and the free French forces. After Dunkirk, they welcomed Australian and New Zealand nurses who had fled France and received a royal imprimatur when Queen Elizabeth joined them at the tea table to meet those brave women.[xxxiv]

On 17 June 1940, Bill Millington was posted to 79 Squadron which had two pilots killed in France, one taken prisoner and two wounded.[xxxv] He knew it would not be long before he joined his new friends on operations. He recognised that ‘the possibility of a hasty departure from this life is ever present’. He had no fear of dying; he accepted that possibility and was ‘light of heart’ as he prepared for his first sortie.[xxxvi] Knowing he might not return, he decided to write a ‘last letter’ to his parents, to be delivered only in the event of his death. ‘Please do not grieve over my passing. I would not have it otherwise’, he told them. ‘Flying has meant more to me than just a career or means of livelihood’, he explained. ‘The intoxication of speed, the rush of air and the pulsating beat of the motor, awakes some answering chord deep down which is indescribable.’ He posted the letter to Miss Celia Macdonald, ‘who has been a particularly good friend to me’ for safe keeping. Despite having close family in England he asked Miss Macdonald to act as his next of kin, entrusting to her the task of gathering up ‘any of my personal effects ... in the event of some untoward incident’.[xxxvii]
By 31 August, Bill had been in action a number of times and had already achieved a string of victories. He was in the air twice that day, again adding to his personal and squadron ‘bag’. During his first outing, ‘we engaged about twenty Me 109s and slapped quite a few down’. He was ‘badly shot up and made a forced landing near Folkestone and returned to my station per police car’.[xxxviii] Later that day, he and his section were tasked with aerodrome guard duties when fifteen Dornier Do 215s escorted by large numbers of Messerschmitt Me 109s and 110s were sighted. Bill attacked, setting alight the port engine of one of the Do 215s. Three Me 109s targeted him. He fired, damaging one as he shook off the other two. By then he was alone; his confrères were engaged in their own battles. He again attacked the bombers but was beset by more Me 109s.[xxxix] He ‘shot down a Messerschmitt 109 after a dogfight with three of them’. He was hit ‘badly by cannon fire and wounded in the thigh. However I crash-landed in flames and managed to scramble out before the machine exploded’.[xl]
He walked, with assistance, to a nearby farm house, then ‘eventually finished up in hospital for about ten days, where most of the shrapnel in my thigh was removed.’[xli] When Miss Macdonald visited the convalescent she asked why he had been so foolish to attack a bomber on his own. ‘Isn’t that awfully dangerous, Bill?’ He replied, ‘what is one fighter compared with a German bomber?’.[xlii] And that on top of his decision not to bale out, ‘as my machine would probably have crashed into a small village’.[xliii] Miss Macdonald recognised a ‘complete unselfishness’ of ‘outlook [that] is magnificent and most inspiring’.[xliv] So too did the Air Officer Commanding 11 Group, Air Vice-Marshal Keith Park who considered ‘this young Australian officer ... worthy of reward and strongly recommend him for the Immediate Award of the Distinguished Flying Cross’ for showing ‘great courage’ in avoiding the small township, ‘despite the fact he was wounded’ and for exhibiting ‘dash and courage in attacking superior numbers’.[xlv]
Bill was posted to 249 Squadron on 19 September. Over the next few weeks he continued to add to his score against the Luftwaffe. On 30 October 1940, the squadron was patrolling North Weald aerodrome when they encountered some Messerschmitt Me 109s. They gave chase and Bill was last seen trying to intercept one over the English Channel.[xlvi]
Within hours, telegrams advising that he was missing in action were sent off.[xlvii] Even though Miss Macdonald had ‘always felt it a great responsibility’ as custodian of Bill’s ‘last letter’, she did not post it immediately because she knew his parents ‘had such a strong feeling that he would still turn up and, like you, I hoped and hoped.’[xlviii] Instead, she wrote to Bill’s mother, who charged her with ‘the sad job of unpacking the Christmas parcels which had come to him from Australia and sending them off again to be divided among his friends’.[xlix]
Despite their hopes, Bill did not ‘turn up’. Nor was his body found. In September 1941, Miss Macdonald and the Millingtons received official notification of presumption of death.[l] Bill’s friend then posted his ‘last letter’. Although she accepted that ‘we must presume that he was killed’, she admitted that she could hardly ‘bear to write the words’. She took comfort—and hoped Elizabeth Millington would as well—knowing that ‘Bill would want us to be brave and face facts, with as much courage as possible’.[li]
Just as Bill had tried to assuage his parents’ grief, so too did Miss Macdonald. She was no stranger to death in conflict. During the Great War, she had been close to a young man who was killed; if he had survived, it is likely they would have married. ‘This’, according to her nephew, ‘caused great sadness to Celia but although she got over it, like all of these tragedies, one never forgets’.[lii] With genuine compassion and a deep seated belief in its truth, she told Bill’s mother that:

We know that he died gloriously. “Greater love hath no man than this that he lay down his life for his friends.”[liii] And he was happy. I can assure you of that. You, his mother can indeed be proud of him and I, one of his many friends, can be grateful for his trust and affection and for the inspiration and help I gained from his great unselfish spirit.[liv]

Miss Macdonald lost many more young friends during the war.[lv] As she had in the past, she put aside her grief and continued to work tirelessly at 21B Cadogan Gardens. It wasn’t always easy to keep the rooms open, however. Bombs were an occupational hazard in London during the Blitz. They fell all around and, at one point, Miss Macdonald slept for nearly three-and-a-half months on a deck chair in the lift hall of her block of flats.[lvi]
As the Royal Australian Air Force’s (RAAF) Empire Air Training Scheme gained momentum, more and more Australian trainees visited Lady Frances and Miss Macdonald or their regional branches. In 1942 alone, more than 10,000 visits were arranged.[lvii] Leslie Jubbs recalled that ‘on every occasion my wonderful hosts made my stay so varied and their generosity was quite overwhelming by kindness’.[lviii] Bob Nielsen regarded return trips to the Goads, his host family in Bournemouth, as ‘another homecoming’ where he was ‘treated like a very special member of the family’ and Mrs Goad ‘lavished on him love and concern’.[lix] David Scholes relished his visits with the Macleans and regretted the inevitable departure: ‘It is with great sorrow that I leave Tom and Euph. They ... have given me a wonderful time making me feel as much at home as possible.’[lx]
Mary Adams, née Hill, lived in Bournemouth. She recalled that ‘we had our first “boys” for Christmas 1941’, six months after her brother Sydney was fatally wounded in combat.[lxi] ‘Throughout the remainder of the war, we had over 200 stay with us. In fact I married one!’ The Hills hosted ‘Australians, Canadians, New Zealanders and the odd American and South African. Many of them spent all of their leaves with us. They all called my mother, “mum”.’ Mrs Hill’s new, extended family ‘was a great happiness’ and comfort in her grief.[lxii]
Inevitably, remembered Mary Adams, ‘we lost many of them in action’.[lxiii] As did other host families, they were moved to write to parents after their guests were reported missing or dead.[lxiv] For some, the opportunity to condole came years later. Geoff Clark’s parents once threw an impromptu belated 21st birthday party—‘complete with cake’—for Joe Leary, who had been in hospital on the big day. Ten days later, Joe, a pilot with 460 Squadron, was lost on a raid to Friedrichshafen. In 1990, Geoff’s 88-year-old father visited Joe’s 93-year-old Aunt in Auckland. The Clarks’ in loco parentis role extended to their guests’ families. Don Walker was one of the first Australians to stay with them. His brother Bill was taken prisoner of war when Crete fell and so, to relieve Don of the worry of organising Red Cross parcels, the Clarks offered to do it. Even after Don died on operations with 235 Squadron, they continued to send Bill parcels until his release.[lxv]
With peace came the gradual wind down of the Scheme. It returned to its pre-war character and was renamed the Dominion Services and Students Hospitality Scheme.[lxvi] Lady Frances and Miss Macdonald continued to welcome visitors to Cadogan Gardens, and Miss Macdonald maintained an exhaustive correspondence with her many friends throughout the world, including Elizabeth Millington.[lxvii] But her duty to Bill and his family was not yet complete.
Cadogan Gardens escaped the bombing during the Blitz but much of London was destroyed or damaged. Westminster Abbey’s Lady Chapel, built by King Henry VII and now more commonly known as the Henry VII Chapel, was one casualty. When the Dean of Westminster was approached about a memorial to those who fought and died in the Battle of Britain, he suggested the Lady Chapel. Lord Trenchard, the Marshal of the RAF, and Lord Dowding, who led Fighter Command during the Battle, headed the committee to raise funds to restore the chapel and to commission a commemorative window to replace the stained glass that was shattered during the Blitz.[lxviii]
On 10 July 1947, King George VI unveiled the Battle of Britain Memorial Window in honour of ‘The Few’ at Westminster Abbey. The next-of-kin of airmen killed in the battle were invited to the ceremony at their own expense. Australian-based families who could not be present were permitted to invite in their stead a relative or friend living in Britain or, if that were not possible, an officer from the RAAF’s London headquarters would attend on their behalf. When William Millington Sr learned that Sir Willoughby Norrie, the governor of South Australia, would be attending, he asked him to stand in for himself and his wife.[lxix] Sir Willoughby agreed but on the day when ‘every seat in nave, choir and Henry VII’s Chapel was filled—the greater number with more than 2500 near relatives of the men named in the roll of honour’—Miss Macdonald was among them, officially representing the Millingtons.[lxx] She later sent Bill’s parents a memento of the dedication.
In ceremonies throughout Australia on 15 September 1947—Battle of Britain Day—the Royal Australian Air Force Association inaugurated Air Force Day to annually commemorate the RAAF’s war dead.[lxxi] Bill Millington had been rejected when he applied for a RAAF cadetship. It may have been as simple as too many had applied that year and, with limited cadetships available, many good candidates missed out but his family believed he had missed out because of lack of money and influence.[lxxii] Even so, his parents attended Adelaide’s service. Holding the brochure for the Battle of Britain Window in Westminster Abbey that Miss Macdonald had sent them, they remembered their son and his sacrifice.
Later that year, Lady Frances once again stepped back from the hospitality scheme.[lxxiii] The ill health that had brought about her retirement in 1933 reclaimed her and she returned to her childhood home. She suffered breathing problems and was unwell for a long time before her death on 24 December 1965.[lxxiv] She was mourned by many friends, all around the world.[lxxv]
In 1948, Miss Macdonald formed the Dominion Fellowship Trust to take over the hospitality work. As well as running the Trust, she maintained her maternal role to the many young people in her life. She was a wise, caring and knowledgeable counsellor to guests of the Trust and a broad-minded confidante to her own family’s younger generation. She was ‘a much loved aunt’ to her nephew and ‘her visits were much looked forward to. You could tell Aunt Celia things that you could not tell other people.’[lxxvi] In 1959, Oxford University conferred an honorary Master of Arts for her work with Rhodes Scholars over the years.[lxxvii] In March 1960, she reluctantly announced that the Dominions Fellowship Trust would fold in early 1961. Its work would be continued by the Victoria League.[lxxviii]
Miss Macdonald died on 4 January 1976. Her memorial service was crowded with family, friends, and representatives from the Victoria League, other akin service organisations and Commonwealth countries, including Australia, who had benefited from her ‘span of over forty years of self dedication to a most worthy cause’. In his oration, her friend Ronald Atkin, a one-time host and ‘honorary office-boy-come-door-boy’ at 21B with whom she used to play Beethoven symphonies scored for two pianos, told of the shock of her death, so sudden that family and friends alike were still reeling from it. ‘We will miss her sorely ... and sharing with us in our loss ... will be that vast world-wide “adopted family” overseas, who have never ceased to bless her name and that of Frances Ryder.’[lxxix]
Perhaps knowledge of Miss Celia Macdonald’s great contribution to the comfort of Australians has faded somewhat from the collective consciousness but ‘a euphemism and not a real person’? I think not. She was very real.
This essay won the Military Historical Society of Australia's 2013 Sabretache Writer's Prize. An edited version was published in Sabretache, the Journal of the Military Historical Society of Australia Vol LIV, No.3 September 2013 (https://search-informit-com-au.wwwproxy1.library.unsw.edu.au/documentSummary;res=IELAPA;dn=699335233277638) Please email if you would like a PDF.




[i] Jubbs, ‘Lady Frances Ryder’, Wings, Official Publication of the RAAF Association, Volume 59, No. 4, Summer 2007
[ii] Email Simon Robinson/Kristen Alexander 5 January 2011
[iii] http://thepeerage.com/p4345.htm#i43443; http://www.london-gazette.co.uk/issues/31422/pages/8092; http://www.london-gazette.co.uk/issues/34396/supplements/3095
[iv] The Age, 19 January 1924
[v] The Register, 13 June 1918 and 21 August 1919. Major Ryder, who served with the 8th (King’s Royal Irish) Hussars, was killed in action on 30 November 1917.
[vi] The Sydney Morning Herald, 5 January and 16 August 1918; The Register, 21 August 1919; The West Australian, 20 March 1924
[vii] The Times, 30 December 1965; The Argus, 23 January 1924
[viii] The West Australian, 10 January 1936; Queensland Figaro, 28 April 1928
[ix] The Times, 25 March 1960
[x] The Register, 21 August 1919
[xi] Their social connection was strengthened in January 1917 when Miss Macdonald’s brother, Godfrey, married Lady Frances’s cousin, the Hon. Rachel Campbell. Email Nicola Finlay, Personal Assistant to The Earl of Harrowby/Alexander 8 December 2011; letter Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald/Alexander 12 January 2012
[xii] The Courier Mail, 10 August 1942; Funeral Oration: In Memoriam—Celia MacDonald 1889–1976 by Ronald William Mein Atkin MBE, courtesy of Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald (hereafter Atkin: Funeral Oration)
[xiii] The Australian Women’s Weekly, 13 April 1940; The Times, 30 December 1965; email Nicola Finlay, Personal Assistant to The Earl of Harrowby/Alexander 8 December 2011; and letter Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald/Alexander 12 January 2012
[xiv] In 1935, Miss Macdonald was one of the choir honoured to sing at King George V’s Silver Jubilee concert. Letter Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald/Alexander 12 January 2012; Atkin: Funeral Oration; The Sydney Morning Herald, 2 January 1937
[xv] http://www.london-gazette.co.uk/issues/31422/pages/8092
[xvi] Email Nicola Finlay, Personal Assistant to The Earl of Harrowby/Alexander 5 December 2011; The West Australian, 10 June 1936
[xvii] Letter Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald/Alexander 12 January 2012
[xviii] The Age, 19 January 1924; The Argus, 23 January 1924; The Times, 30 December 1965
[xix] The Times, 25 March 1960; Sydney Morning Herald, 2 January 1937
[xx] http://www.london-gazette.co.uk/issues/34396/supplements/3095
[xxi] Letter Miss Celia Macdonald of the Isles /John Crossman 18 March 1940, courtesy of Bowden Family Archive
[xxii] The West Australian, 23 November 1946
[xxiii] Nelson, Chased by the Sun. Courageous Australians in Bomber Command in World War II, ABC Books, Sydney, 2001, p. 68
[xxiv] Letter Pat Hughes/Charles and Heather Hughes July [1939], courtesy of the late Greg Hughes
[xxv] Bill’s welcoming letter is no longer extant but would have been similar to John Crossman’s. Letter Miss Celia Macdonald of the Isles/John Crossman 26 October 1939, courtesy of Bowden Family Archive
[xxvi] The West Australian, 8 December 1936
[xxvii] Handwritten biographical notes by Eileen Robinson née Millington, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[xxviii] Bill Millington’s ‘last letter’ June 1940, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[xxix] Hayes, Beyond the Great Escape. Geoff Cornish: The One Who Got Away, Possum Publishing, Elanora, 2004, p. 41
[xxx] Scholes, DFC, Air War Diary. An Australian in Bomber Command, Kangaroo Press, Kenthurst, 1997, pp. 68 and 53
[xxxi] Letter Bill Millington/Eileen Robinson née Millington 7 July 1939; and entries for 28 June, 2 July, 21 July and 8 December 1939, Bill Millington’s diary, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[xxxii] Letter Bill Millington/Eileen Robinson née Millington 31 December 1939, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[xxxiii] Entries for 24 December and 23 December 1939, John Crossman’s diary, courtesy of Bowden Family Archive
[xxxiv] The West Australian, 5 April 1941
[xxxv] Bill Millington’s RAF Service record, RAF Disclosures, via Robinson Family Archive; Cull, Lander and Weiss, Twelve Days in May. The Air Battle for Northern France and the Low Countries, 10–21 May 1940, Grub Street, London, 1995, pp. 2–5
[xxxvi] Bill Millington’s ‘last letter’ June 1940, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive. This letter is dated simply ‘June 1940’ but it is clear from the content that Bill penned it just before his first operation.
[xxxvii] Bill Millington’s ‘last letter’ June 1940, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[xxxviii] Letter Bill Millington/Eileen Robinson née Millington 14 September 1940, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[xxxix] Bill Millington’s DFC Recommendation National Archives United Kingdom AIR 2/9398
[xl] Letter Bill Millington/Eileen Robinson née Millington 14 September 1940, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[xli] Undated letter Victoria Wells, Hawkhurst History Society/Alexander (received 9 March 2011); letter Bill Millington/Eileen Robinson née Millington 14 September 1940, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[xlii] The West Australian, 5 April 1941
[xliii] Austin, Fighter Command, Victor Gollancz Ltd, London, 1941, p. 193; Bill Millington’s DFC Recommendation National Archives United Kingdom AIR 2/9398
[xliv] The West Australian, 5 April 1941
[xlv] Bill Millington’s DFC Recommendation National Archive United Kingdom AIR 2/9398
[xlvi] 79 Squadron Operational Record Book National Archives United Kingdom AIR 27/664/17; letter Flight Lieutenant M. Hudson, Air Historical Branch, Ministry of Defence/Alexander 21 November 2012
[xlvii] National Archives of Australia Barcode number: 3330251, Series number: A705, Control symbol: 106/6/115, Item title: RAAF—Directorate of Personnel Services—Casualty Section—Pilot Officer W.H. Millington DFC DP Air Operations—RAF (NAA Casualty file)
[xlviii] Undated letter Miss Celia Macdonald of the Isles/Mrs W.H. Millington September 1941. The original of this letter is no longer extant but it was hand copied and distributed throughout the family. Eileen Robinson’s copy courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[xlix] The West Australian, 5 April 1941
[l] NAA Casualty file
[li] Undated letter Miss Celia Macdonald of the Isles September 1941/Mrs W H Millington, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[lii] Letter Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald/Alexander 12 January 2012
[liii]John 15:13
[liv] Undated letter Miss Celia Macdonald of the Isles September 1941/Mrs W.H. Millington, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[lv] Letter Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald/Alexander 12 January 2012
[lvi] The West Australian, 5 April 1941
[lvii] Nelson, Chased by the Sun. Courageous Australians in Bomber Command in World War II, ABC Books, Sydney, 2001, p. 63
[lviii]Jubbs, ‘Lady Frances Ryder’, Wings, Official Publication of the RAAF Association, Volume 59, No. 4, Summer 2007; http://www.futurepd.org/les/Documents/Unwanted%20Pilot.pdf
[lix] Nelson, Chased by the Sun. Courageous Australians in Bomber Command in World War II, ABC Books, Sydney, 2001, p. 63
[lx] Scholes, DFC, Air War Diary. An Australian in Bomber Command, Kangaroo Press, Kenthurst, 1997, p. 54
[lxi] Sydney Jenkyn Hill flew in the Battle of Britain with 609 Squadron. On 21 October 1940, he shared in the destruction of 609 Spitfire Squadron’s 100th victory with Flight Lieutenant Frank Howell. He was the ‘bosom buddy’ of Melbourne born Battle of Britain pilot John Curchin; the pair were so close they were referred to as the ‘Heavenly Twins’. John was killed in action on 18 June 1941, two weeks before Sydney’s death. Email Mary Adams née Hill/Alexander 2 December 2011; http://www.cwgc.org/find-war-dead/casualty/2361173/HILL,%20SYDNEY%20JENKYN; http://www.bbm.org.uk/Curchin.htm
[lxii] Email Mary Adams née Hill /Alexander 2 December 2011
[lxiii] ibid.
[lxiv] Nelson, Chased by the Sun. Courageous Australians in Bomber Command in World War II, ABC Books, Sydney, 2001, pp. 63–64
[lxv] http://www.theoddbods.org/2012_10/oddsnends04.htm. Bill Walker visited the Clarks before returning to Australia.
[lxvi] Atkin: Funeral Oration; The Times, 9 July 1947
[lxvii] At one time it was estimated that Miss Macdonald was in continuous contact with 1700 to 1800 former guests from the Dominions. The Australian Women’s Weekly, 14 November 1936; Eileen Robinson’s annotation on her copy of Miss Macdonald’s September 1941 letter, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[lxviii] http://www.westminster-abbey.org/visit-us/highlights/the-royal-air-force-chapel; Perkins, Westminster Abbey. The Royal Air Force Chapel with the Battle of Britain Window in The Chapel of King Henry VII, H.B. Skinner & Co Ltd, London, no date, p. 25
[lxix] The Advertiser, 7 June 1947
[lxx] The Times, 11 July 1947; The Mercury, 11 July 1947
[lxxi] The Advertiser, 16 September 1947
[lxxii] Unpublished biographical essay by Simon Robinson, courtesy of Robinson Family Archive
[lxxiii] Atkin: Funeral Oration
[lxxiv] Email Nicola Finlay, Personal Assistant to The Earl of Harrowby/Alexander 6 December 2011
[lxxv] The Times, 30 December 1965
[lxxvi] Atkin: Funeral Oration; letter Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald/Alexander 12 January 2012
[lxxvii] Letter Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald/Alexander 12 January 2012; The Times, 28 January 1959
[lxxviii] The Times, 25 March 1960
[lxxix] The Times, 14 January 1976; Atkin: Funeral Oration; letter Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald/Alexander 12 January 2012; The Times, 28 January 1959



Bibliography
PRIMARY SOURCES

PUBLIC COLLECTIONS

National Archives of Australia

Barcode number: 3330251, Series number: A705, Control symbol: 106/6/115, Item title: RAAF—Directorate of Personnel Services—Casualty Section—Pilot Officer W.H. Millington DFC DP Air Operations—RAF

National Archives United Kingdom

AIR 2/9398 Bill Millington’s DFC Recommendation
AIR 27/664/17 79 Squadron Operational Record Book

PRIVATE RECORDS

Author’s Records

Email Simon Robinson/Kristen Alexander 5 January 2011
Undated letter Victoria Wells, Hawkhurst History Society/Alexander (received 9 March 2011) 
Email Mary Adams née Hill/Alexander 2 December 2011
Email Nicola Finlay, Personal Assistant to The Earl of Harrowby/Alexander 8 December 2011
Letter Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald/Alexander 12 January 2012
Letter Flight Lieutenant M. Hudson, Air Historical Branch, Ministry of Defence/Alexander 21 November 2012

Robinson Family Archive

Bill Millington’s 1939 diary
Letter Bill Millington/Eileen Robinson née Millington 7 July 1939
Letter Bill Millington/Eileen Robinson née Millington 31 December 1939
Bill Millington’s ‘last letter’ June 1940
Letter Bill Millington/Eileen Robinson née Millington 14 September 1940
Undated letter Miss Celia Macdonald/Mrs W.H. Millington September 1941
Handwritten biographical notes by Eileen Robinson née Millington
Unpublished biographical essay by Simon Robinson
Bill Millington’s RAF Service record, RAF Disclosures

Bowden Family Archive

John Crossman’s 1939 diary
Letter Miss Celia Macdonald of the Isles/John Crossman 26 October 1939
Letter Miss Celia Macdonald of the Isles/John Crossman 18 March 1940

Major Nigel Chamberlayne-Macdonald

Funeral Oration: In Memoriam—Celia MacDonald 1889–1976 by Ronald William Mein Atkin MBE

The Late Greg Hughes

Letter Pat Hughes/ Charles and Heather Hughes July [1939]

SECONDARY SOURCES

NEWSPAPERS

The Advertiser, 7 June and 16 September 1947
The Age, 19 January 1924
The Argus, 23 January 1924
The Australian Women’s Weekly, 14 November 1936 and 13 April 1940
The Courier Mail, 10 August 1942
The Mercury, 11 July 1947
Queensland Figaro, 28 April 1928
The Register, 13 June 1918 and 21 August 1919
The Sydney Morning Herald, 5 January 1918, 16 August 1918, and 2 January 1937
The Times, 9 and 11 July 1947, 28 January 1959, 25 March 1960, 30 December 1965, and 14 January 1976 
The West Australian, 20 March 1924, 10 January, 10 June and 8 December 1936, 5 April 1941, and 23 November 1946

BOOKS AND ARTICLES

Austin, A. B., Fighter Command, Victor Gollancz Ltd, London, 1941

Cull, B., Lander, B., and Weiss, H., Twelve Days in May. The Air Battle for Northern France and the Low Countries, 10–21 May 1940, Grub Street, London, 1995

Hayes, H., Beyond the Great Escape. Geoff Cornish: The One Who Got Away, Possum Publishing, Elanora, 2004

Jubbs, L., ‘Lady Frances Ryder’, Wings, Official Publication of the RAAF Association, Volume 59, No. 4, Summer 2007

Nelson, H., Chased by the Sun. Courageous Australians in Bomber Command in World War II, ABC Books, Sydney, 2001

Perkins, J.,  Westminster Abbey. The Royal Air Force Chapel with the Battle of Britain Window in The Chapel of King Henry VII, H.B. Skinner & Co Ltd, London, no date

Scholes, DFC, D., Air War Diary. An Australian in Bomber Command, Kangaroo Press, Kenthurst, 1997

WEBSITES

http://thepeerage.com/p4345.htm#i43443
http://www.london-gazette.co.uk/issues/31422/pages/8092
http://www.london-gazette.co.uk/issues/34396/supplements/3095
http://www.westminster-abbey.org/visit-us/highlights/the-royal-air-force-chapel
http://www.theoddbods.org/2012_10/oddsnends04.htm
http://www.futurepd.org/les/Documents/Unwanted%20Pilot.pdf
http://www.cwgc.org/find-war-dead/casualty/2361173/HILL,%20SYDNEY%20JENKYN
http://www.bbm.org.uk/Curchin.htm






Friday, 21 December 2018

Wartime Christmases: a research archive anthology

Over the years I’ve posted a number of blog articles featuring wartime (aviation-related) Christmases. Rather than have you trawl through archive to find them, I’ve compiled a seasonal anthology.

Happy reading and Merry Christmas!

‘Touched the face of God’: Faith, Christmas, and Remembrance in Captivity.

Another miserable Kriegie Christmas

‘So another Kriegie Xmas passes’: Christmas in Stalag Luft III

Christmas in Stalag Luft III, Belaria, 1944

Kriegiedom occasionally has its good points. Australians celebrating Christmas in Stalag Luft III

The Last Christmas of the War.


'Peace on earth, good will to men, may it never fade away': service Christmas tales.

Tuesday, 5 June 2018

Optimistic for a speedy return: D-Day

D-day infused prisoners of war every everywhere with great optimism of a speedy return to home and loved ones. The Australians in Stalag Luft III were no different. 

They had talked about it for months beforehand, and excitement mounted.


Bill Fordyce, courtesy of Lily Fordyce

Then, on the big day, they 'Heard [about it] per German radio 1330 hours', recorded Ted Every. 

The great news of the invasion has cheered us all up and the morale is 100% plus’, wrote Justin O’Byrne to his family. ‘The news of the invasion, somehow makes me feel that it won’t be long before we are together again’, Doug Hutchinson told his wife Lola. ‘The news at present is heartening to the Kriegies and some are optimistic—I say England in the New Year’, wrote George Archer as Allied successes increased in the succeeding months. Such excitement and hope of a rapid conclusion to hostilities, and their ensuing freedom, made life in captivity (for a time, at least) easier to bear.

Some of the men recorded their take on the invasion in their wartime log books.

 Ronald Baines, courtesy of the Baines Family 
 Bill Fordyce, courtesy of Lily Fordyce




D-day, coincidentally, also brought some relief one family back in Australia. Colin Phelps wrote his first letter as a prisoner of on 14 February 1944 but it took almost four months to reach Adelaide. While Britain and Europe were thrilling to news of the invasion, the Phelps family read Colin’s heartening words that he was safe and well on 6 June 1944: 'Dear Dad and Mum—have been taken prisoner and am being well looked after by the Red Cross—I am unhurt and in good spirit.—My permanent address is not yet allotted and I will forward it later on.—Sorry to cause you so much worry. Love from Colin'.

Friday, 23 March 2018

Remembering the Great Escape

Much has been written about the Great Escape: what occurred on the night; what happened to those involved; and the commitment to obtaining ‘exemplary justice’. 
Artist: Ley Kenyon, published in Paul Brickhill and Conrad Norton: Escape to Danger (Faber and  Faber, London,  1954)
 This post, however, focuses on how the airmen’s kriegie friends and Australian families responded to their deaths.
Courtesy Chris Armold, MSgt, USAF (Ret). Taken in March 2017.
Alan Righetti, who had been one of the many ‘stooges’ or lookouts over the previous few months, remembered hearing the shots fired after the discovery of the break out. It ‘was pandemonium’, he recalled, as the Germans tore the North Compound apart. When things quietened down, the airmen ‘were bitterly disappointed that we hadn’t got at least 200 out’. But, Righetti added, they were, ‘at the same time, very proud of the fact that we had the whole of the area and the German Army rushing all over the place looking for our fellas’.
Alan Righetti, courtesy of Alan Righetti
Days later, when the names of the dead were announced, Righetti recollected that ‘we were shocked’. A memorial parade was held and, recalled Justin O’Byrne, the men ‘went into mourning’. ‘Every prisoner wore a black diamond of mourning on his sleeve for the remainder of our term in prison’, including on Anzac Day ten days later, when photos were taken of the men wearing their black patches.
Justin OByrne, courtesy of Anne OByrne
Courtesy Andrew JB Simpson  NSW POWs North compound Anzac Day, 1944 
Just as many British Great War memorials had been voluntarily built by families and communities to provide a focus for their grief, Stalag Luft III’s air force ‘family’ in North Compound decided to erect a memorial using stone provided by the Germans. Originally referred to by the prisoners as ‘The Vault’ (pertaining to its crypt-like purpose of holding the ashes of the dead), the prisoners’ memorial resembled an altar. 
From Walton and Eberhardt, From Liberation to Interrogation. A Photographic Journey. Page 418.
In conceiving this design, prominent Australian-born architect and theatrical designer Wylton Todd, who had had a thriving architecture business in London before the war, seems to have been inspired by the recently deceased Sir Edwin Lutyen’s altar-like Stone of Remembrance. (The Stone became the centrepiece of the Imperial War Graves Commission’s most significant cemeteries.)
 Like Lutyen’s iconic design, the prisoners’ memorial evokes heroic sacrifice in warfare, as do many British memorials as well as significant Australian memorials such as Melbourne’s Shrine of Remembrance and Sydney’s Anzac Memorial.
Shrine of Remembrance, authors photo.
The airmen’s names are engraved on three granite tablets reminiscent of Great War honour rolls. Underneath is the inscription, ‘In memory of the officers who gave their lives. Sagan March 1944’. 
SLIII memorial. From the Casualty Section, Dept of Air, March 1947 via Air Ministry London, provided to them by His Majesty’s Air Attache at Warsaw. Courtesy of the Preen Family.
The simple wooden cross atop the nearby cairn (which appears to be a later addition) evokes the crosses which marked the graves of the First World War servicemen who died overseas, before the Imperial War Grave Commission replaced them with stone headstones.

SLIII memorial. From Casualty Section, Dept of Air, March 1947 via Air Ministry London, provided to them by His Majesty’s Air Attache at Warsaw. Courtesy of the Preen Family.

Courtesy Chris Armold, MSgt, USAF (Ret). Taken in March 2017.
Close up of the cairn plaque, Sagan, Poland, September 1998.  Courtesy of Drew Gordon. 
Todd’s design included an eagle, which was mounted below the inscription. Particularly pertinent, the spread-winged eagle is a key symbol for airmen, representing both the ‘brotherhood of the air’ and the insignia—‘wings’—which declare an airmen’s aviation credentials. 
Reg Kieraths RAAF Wings. Courtesy of Peter Kierath.



 Arthur Schrock, 1944, in Earle M Nelson: If Winter Comes.

This drawing of the memorial, by Flight Lieutenant Grenfell Godden (a South African in Stalag Luft III who was killed in a flying accident on 23 November 1945), was sent to Mildred Williams, the mother of John Williams, one of the five Australians killed in the Great Escape reprisals. It was published in the Sydney Morning Herald, 25 April 1945. Courtesy of the Preen Family.

AWM ART34781.022. Albert Comber, drawing of the Monument to those 50 officers who were shot after the break from Stalag Luft III, 1945. https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/C168955?image=1

SLIII memorial. From the Casualty Section, Dept of Air, March 1947 via Air Ministry London, provided to them by His Majesty’s Air Attache at Warsaw. Courtesy of the Preen Family.
While visible in Bert Comber’s sketch and other early drawings and photographs, and repeated in the commemorative plaque mounted on the stone cairn erected in front of the memorial, the eagle is no longer extant.

Recent photo of the memorial, with modern dedication, c 2015. Courtesy of Geoff Swallow
The memorial was located in the nearby cemetery where other prisoners had been buried. There, fifty urns containing the dead men’s ashes were interred on 4 December 1944. In accordance with RAF mourning custom, a service funeral was held. Thirty prisoners along with members of the Swiss Legation attended. Wreathes were laid and the Roman Catholic and Protestant chaplains said prayers and blessed the monument and ashes.
From the Casualty Section, Dept of Air, March 1947 via Air Ministry London, provided to them by His Majesty’s Air Attache at Warsaw. Courtesy of the Preen Family.
Some of the airmen recorded details of the memorial service in their wartime log books. Some marked the pages, drawings, photos and nominal rolls with a cross, the traditional symbol denoting the dead. 
Lifted from Brickhill and Norton: Escape to Danger.
Before he returned to Australia, Comber produced for the Australian War Memorial’s collection three pen, ink and wash drawings of the memorial’s construction.

AWM ART34781.024 Albert Comber, The monument in the early stages of construction, 1945. https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/C168957?image=1
Six months earlier, on 20 June 1944, a memorial service for family and friends of the Fifty had been conducted at the Church of St Martin-in-the-Fields, London. As the men had been killed in the course of carrying out their service duty they were accorded full air force honours. Australian-based families could not attend and so either British family members or others represented them. 
Authors collection
Squadron Leader William Melville, the liaison for prisoner of war matters at RAAF Overseas Headquarters, considered it ‘a very great honour and privilege’ to represent Reg Kierath’s mother, Ada. After the ceremony, Melville wrote to her as he wanted her ‘to know something of the very magnificent tribute that was paid to your son and the others who died with him’. He told her about the service:
Sir Archibald Sinclair—Secretary of State for Air—Sir Charles Portal, Chief of Air Staff and our Air Officer Commanding, Air Vice-Marshal Wrigley, were but three of the many Air Force representatives who came to pay their tribute and Mr Bruce our Australian High Commissioner was also there. After the first hymn the Vicar of St Martins read the first part of the service and the psalm, and Sir Charles Portal the lesson. Then came the Address by the Chaplain-in-Chief of the Royal Air Force in which he paid tribute to the memory of those whose courage and high faith was an inspiration to us all. As we stood, after the recession, the Blessing, crystal clear came the notes of the Last Post—the most honoured tribute to the serving member and one which is paid to him alone. For a moment there was silence—and then in the distance, the roll of a drum and the awakening call ‘Reveille’. It seems so singularly appropriate, for to all of us in our hearts and memory they will live through their example of courage and steadfastness.
During the service, the RAF chaplain-in-chief had stated that ‘Their sacrifice was touched by the finger of God’. Melville too recognised that sacrifice. He explained to Ada that Reg, ‘and the others, have become my very real friends and I cannot express how much the sacrifice which they have made has meant to me personally’.
Reg Kierath. Courtesy of Peter Kierath
Others acknowledged the deaths in a similar way. Families placed ‘in memoriam’ notices in newspapers. Friends send condolence letters. 
The Argus, 25 March 1947
Unattributed clipping, courtesy of Preen Family.
Group Captain Thomas White, former prisoner of the Ottomans and commanding officer at 1 Initial Training School, Somers where Catanach and Albert Hake had attended believed that the young man’s ‘name and memory will long endure as among the noblest of those who gave their all’.
Those who died after the Great Escape were not forgotten. Their friends attended remembrance services. Winifred Munt, Jimmy Catanach’s childhood nanny, known to him as ‘Da’, was a member of the Australian contingent to the Service of Remembrance at St Clement Danes (the Central Church of the Royal Air Force) on 22 March 1969. Bill Fordyce, who was in the tunnel when the escape was discovered, attended the 50th anniversary service on 25 March 1994. 
Bill Fordyce, courtesy of Lily Fordyce
 Courtesy of Lily Fordyce
Courtesy of Ian Fraser
 Reg Giddey, who regarded Albert Hake as ‘one of nature’s gentlemen’, placed a tribute on his former friend’s grave during 50th anniversary commemorations at Posnan, Poland. 
Reg Giddey. Courtesy of the Preen Family
Their families made pilgrimages to Sagan and wore their service medals.

  
The Preen Familys pilgrimage to Stalag Luft III, 2013. Courtesy of Max Preen.

The Search for the Compass Maker, Albert Hake 2013: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GaFwU7FI-cU 


Peter Kierath, nephew of Reg Kierath, retraced his uncles journey. Photo from The Daily Liberal, Dubbo. http://www.dailyliberal.com.au/story/3538949/retracing-family-steps-at-war-photos/

Albert Hakes great niece and nephew, wearing medals. Anzac Day, about 1997. Courtesy Jude Preen. 
 That continuing sympathy of family and friends, along with the dedicated commemoration, brought comfort to those who grieved. So too did the knowledge that the deaths of the Fifty had been construed as sacrifices for the cause, as extensions of their air force service. As their ‘Duty Nobly Done’.

Memorial card, sent by Noela Hake to Dick Wheeler. Dick Wheeler Archive. Courtesy of  Tony Wheeler

My thanks to all the families who have shared their photos and records with me.

I have written a number of other blog pieces on aspects of the Great Escape from an Australian perspective:

https://australiansinsliii.blogspot.com.au/2016/05/43-years-albert-hake-australian-in.html

https://australiansinsliii.blogspot.com.au/2017/03/albert-hake-and-paul-royle-australians.html

https://australiansinsliii.blogspot.com.au/2016/11/how-deeply-we-feel-his-loss-condolences.html

http://australiansinsliii.blogspot.com.au/2017/04/ever-remembered-james-catanach-anzac.html

http://australiansinsliii.blogspot.com.au/2015/02/great-escaper-thomas-barker-leigh.html

http://australiansinsliii.blogspot.com.au/2015/02/70th-anniversary-of-great-escape.html

Friday, 9 February 2018

Enacting Social Ritual: Birthdays in Captivity

One of the things that particularly interests me is how prisoners of war enacted the usual social rituals. Birthdays celebrate life already lived and anticipate future achievements. How were these significant family-and-friend orientated ceremonies marked in captivity? And what did they mean to the prisoners of war?
Physically, prisoners of war shared the ceremony with their kriegie friends with cake and parties. Mentally, however, as they wrote about the occasion to their loved ones, they were transported home through recalling other birthdays or hoping that future birthdays outside ‘Kriegiedom’ would be different.
In 1942, John Osborne marked ‘Another birthday too, this one not celebrated at the Piccadilly’. In 1943, he noted to his family that ‘one certainly finds queer places to celebrate’. ‘I didn’t have much opportunity to celebrate my birthday, all I did was hope that I don’t spend another one at this place’, wrote Colin Phelps to his folks. ‘I hope to celebrate my next birthday with you’, another chap told his parents.
For many, the next birthday wasn’t celebrated with loved ones. On his first birthday in captivity, Albert Hake found himself ‘indulging in an idle, fanciful contemplation of circumstances relevant to previous birthdays (for today is such.)’. He wasn’t carried away by fancy or even moroseness, however. He ‘honoured the occasion with merry peals of laughter and a grand festivity, consuming with great gusto a large jelly (strawberry), a larger rice custard a pint of Horlick’s chocolate malted milk (real milk) plus various odds and ends’. Hake’s mood wasn’t as festive as his next birthday drew nearer and he realised he would not be sharing it with his wife. ‘Time will certainly have to march on if I’m to spend my next birthday at home.’
Parties were guaranteed to blow away the birthday blues, and cakes were the time honoured tradition for birthday bashes. George Archer and his roommates concocted a ‘cake made of pancake mixture and sultanas iced with chocolate’ for a Canadian celebrating his 23rd. It was a ‘wonderful success’.
Alan Scanlan was one the Australians who gained their majority in Stalag Luft III. ‘Your son has crossed the line and is now recognised as a man’, he told his parents. ‘I wish I could have spent it at home, but circumstances made it impossible.’ Despite being separated from his family, ‘The boys were very thoughtful and arranged many surprises throughout the day and we spent quite a happy day.’ That evening, when tea was finished, his crew member Arthur Tebbutt, ‘brought forth a two-tier chocolate cake complete with twenty one candles’. ‘Tebby’ demonstrated his impressive culinary skills as well as doffing his flight cap to their shared homeland: ‘The decorations were a white iced border with a small map of “Aussie” done in white, in the centre of which was a small silver key. “Good Luck, Alan”, was written in chocolate across the map’. It was an emotional moment. ‘It shook me up, I can tell you, for the boys must have spent considerable time preparing for the occasion’.
Rex Austin’s 21st birthday ‘occasion’, mirrored air force initiation ceremonies as well as some of the traditional (and raucous) rites of passage to adulthood. ‘The boys’ in his room stripped him naked, threw him in the air, bumped him in the snow, rubbed him down to dry him off, presented him with a key with ‘21 on it’ and ‘an absolutely magnificent chocolate cake’. They then ceremoniously ‘shook me by the hand and said “Happy 21st I hope you’re not here for your 22nd”’. Austin’s ‘21st was something’, an occasion to remember, made even special by the sacrifices made by his friends. In a time of almost desperate rationing in January 1945, ‘the blokes had saved up their semolina and everything’ to make his cake.
We dont know if this is a birthday or, given the 1942 decoration, a new year's party, but cake is on the menu. Sadly, it doesn't seem to be cheering Tony Gordon (seated, right hand side) and his friends. (Courtesy of Drew Gordon.) 

Cake was not the only birthday treat. Alex Kerr was depressed at the prospect of celebrating his 21st in captivity. For him it was nought but a bleak and dispiriting occasion until he received a ‘truly rare morsel’, an egg extracted from one of the guards by Stalag IIIE Kirchhain’s most successful traders. ‘I will never forget the generosity of someone who hardly knew me but considered that the significance of the occasion demanded a gesture of compassion’. 
While Kerr, Scanlan and Austin experienced the best of human kindness for their birthdays, Lex Dixon experienced the worst of humanity for his. For ‘something to look forward to’, he had been saving a potato. (This was before he arrived in Stalag Luft III.) Every time he came across a bigger one he swapped it and ate the smaller one. Just before his birthday, when Dixon’s anticipation was greatest, another prisoner stole the potato and devoured it. ‘It was the unforgiveable thing for anyone to steal anything else from a fellow prisoner,’ recalled Justin O’Byrne.
Fortunately, not every birthday represented the darker side of captivity, but many were not easy. Some weren’t even worth remembering. ‘It happens to be my birthday today’, Charles Fry told his fiancée. ‘I had forgotten about it’. Keith Carmody ‘forgot it was my 26th birthday—am feeling a bit better now—have not spent a birthday at home since my 20th in 1939’. Despite forgetting, he and a friend had a ‘“bash” to celebrate’.
Friends and camaraderie made birthdays worthwhile. So too did the knowledge that their family and friends remembered them, but ensuring that captive loved ones received birthday greetings was a lottery. Australia was half a world away, letters were frequently lost, and delivery was often delayed through censorship or even punishment or retribution. 
Sometimes the family timed their birthday greetings just right. ‘Red letter day, my birthday, also your letter 2/11, my first from you’, wrote George Archer to his folks. (Four months later, however, his birthday parcel still hadnt turned up.) ‘I received your birthday greetings, which arrived about two days ago, and I was very pleased to receive them, thank you’, another chap recorded.
Home is where the kriegies would have preferred to be, but prison camp conviviality and birthday celebrations demonstrated the strong fraternity, culinary ingenuity of their roommates and friends, and even personal sacrifice to ensure that the festive table was well-laden. For many, that strong friendship made captivity bearable.





Saturday, 16 December 2017

Vale Peter Ilbery

Vale Peter Ilbery OAM, former 455 Squadron pilot. 

I owe him much. 

Peter had written a couple of books on the Empire Air Training Scheme (Hatching an Air Force and Empire Airmen Strike Back) and, while researching Clive Caldwell Air Ace, I spoke to him about the scheme as well Caldwell as a leader and the nature of leadership. Peter, who had served with 455 Squadron during the war, compared Caldwell’s leadership practice with that of 455’s one-time CO Jack Davenport. 

Sometime after finishing CCAA, aviation author Lex McAulay, who assumed I would continue to research Australian pilots, emailled me a list of possible ‘candidates’. Jack Davenport was on the list. Next thing I knew, Peter was on the phone saying he had heard I was going to write about Jack Davenport. And it seemed I was! 

Peter, who were there from the beginning of Jack Davenport Beaufighter Leader, offered me encouragement and moral support throughout and provided a sounding board to some of my ideas. He ‘volunteered’ to read early drafts and wrote the forward. He was there at the launch. I owe him so much.

While I know (sadly now, knew) him as a former beaufighter pilot and mentor, others will remember him as a medical doctor, radiation researcher, radiobiologist and radiodiagnostician, historian of the Empire Air Training Scheme and the man who established the Commonwealth Air Memorial at Dallachy. Vale Peter 10 December 2017.




https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/P02095.001

 https://sydney.edu.au/medicine/museum/mwmuseum/index.php/Ilbery,_Peter_Leslie_Thomas