May 2013
After a long day at work, Peter arrived home and was looking forward to a nice supper, a cuddle with his new wife. Then listen to the new Paul Temple serial on the wireless. As he opened the front door his wife Joanne called to him.
'Peter there's a letter for you, it's on the mantelpiece.'
Peter took his coat off and hung it in the hall, then he went to the mantelpiece and picked up the envelope. He didn't like the look of this letter, on the envelope he could see OHMS.
'I'll open it after tea,' said Peter. 'What's for tea?'
'I managed to get some corned beef, the butcher let me have a little extra this week,' replied Joanne.
'l expect you fluttered your eyes at him, you little vixen,' joked Peter.
Alter they had their tea Peter looked once more at the letter. He had a feeling about what the letter might contain. The BBC news seemed to indicate that something nasty was brewing up over in Germany.
Peter opened the letter and saw that it was from the RAF. Peter knew that as a pilot he was on the reserve list and could be called back to the service at anytime.
'It's from the RAF,' called Peter to Joanne who was clearing the table and taking the plates into the kitchen.
'What do they want; don't tell me they want you. You've only just got yourself settled into your new job,' said Joanne.
'It's addressed to Sqd. Ldr. Peter Lawrence DFC,' said Peter as he continued to read through the letter.
'They want me back,' he said.
'Oh no! when?' said his wife.
'I'm to report to Biggin Hill, 10.30 next Monday,' said Peter.
'You know why, don't you? It's the Russians blockading Berlin. They want the West out of there. My boss isn't going to be pleased, I've only just started some work on designing a new radio. Still I've got the rest of this week to hand over to someone else,' continued Peter as he began to think of the consequences of his recall.
'Do you think it will be very serious?' asked Joanne. 'In the end we are all in the hands of our leaders, but they only risk their reputations, it's the man in the street who risk their necks. Thank God the new Atom Bombs are helping to keep us all in the same boat. lf we go, they go as well. There will be no-one to stand on some balcony and wave to the silly B's as survivors march by,' said Peter.
'Will you give my uniforms a clean. Still we have the rest of the week together,' continued Peter.
The week passed quickly as Peter and Joanne prepared for his departure. Early Monday morning Peter dressed and made his way to the station. He told Joanne not to come with him, but she being a woman decided that she wanted to wave him off.
Peter arrived at the gates of Biggin Hill; it had been a number of years since he was last here. He could see that little had changed, the buildings that had been bombed had all been repaired or replaced.
Peter still dressed in his civvies reported to the gate house and showed his recall letter.
'Thank you sir, I'll 'phone the Admin Office and they will arrange for you to be collected,' said the Corporal.
After about ten minutes a car arrived driven by a WAAF. She came to him and asked if he was Sqd. Ldr. Lawrence. Peter confirmed that he was that person.
'I'm told you are to be taken to see the Adjutant. Will you come this way sir it's only a short drive,' said the WAAF.
He put his bag into the car and they set off for the Admin Building.
'Here we are sir, I'll just take you to the Adjutant's Office,' said the WAAF taking hold of his bag.
He thanked her and walked into the Office.
'Peter Lawrence, you old dog!' said the Adjutant.
'Bloody Hell! It's Don. l haven't seen you since we were up in Scampton,' said Peter going over to shake hands with his old flying companion.
'They have got you back, I didn't think things were that serious, we must be really scraping the barrel,' said Don in a light hearted manner.
'What's it all about, is it the Russians blockading Berlin?' asked Peter.
'I'm afraid it is. We and the Americans are going to do something that Goering failed to do at Stalingrad, we are going to supply a whole city from the air. So you as a pilot will be required to help in the airlift,' said Don.
'I haven't done any flying since I left a couple of years ago. I'm a bit out of practice,' said Peter.
'Don't worry about that, you were a natural; after a couple of hours you will be back as good as you were when the Germans were shooting at you. After getting you reacquainted with the RAF, you'll be sent up to Scampton and they will have you flying a Lancastrian. It's the civilian version of the Lancaster. We are only using unarmed aircraft as we don't want to give the Russians any excuses of shooting down any of our aircraft,' said Don.
A few days later Peter found himself climbing into the pilot's seat of a Lancastrian.
The layout was very similar to the Lancaster in which he had spent many hours in the dark flying over the cities of the Third Reich.
He thought how things change on a number of occasions he flown to Berlin to help to destroy that city, now he's being told to fly there to help feed its people, who only a few years before were trying to shoot him down. Now no doubt they will welcome him.
'As far as I can see, sir there is nothing I can teach you about flying this type of aircraft,' said the young officer who had just checked him out.
'It felt just like the old times, I really enjoyed getting back to the old job, I didn't realised how much I missed flying. Perhaps when this lot is over I'll try out for the airlines, providing the wife agrees,' replied Peter as the two of them made their way back to dispersal.
'As an officer you should be acceptable, Sgt Pilots are not so lucky so I believe. Do you think it will escalate into a war with Russia?' asked his companion.
'Not likely with Nuclear weapons in the arsenal. The politicians won't risk their necks but some of us may lose ours,' answered Peter.
At dispersal his old friend Don was there to see how he had performed.
'He is all yours, sir I can't teach him a thing,' said the flying instructor to Wing Commander Don Billington.
'Thank you' said Don. Then turning to Peter he said, 'We want you to fly a Lancastrian to Hamburg, tomorrow. You'd better let Joanne know what's happening.'
Later that day Peter met the rest of the crew that will be with him tomorrow. A couple like him were retreads from the war the others were National Service men. Bright and early the next morning, after the aircraft had been checked out, fuelled and loaded with food they set off for Germany. Peter felt strange as most of his journeys to Germany had been made in the dark and then in the back of his mind was always the fear that it could be his last trip.
Soon they were crossing over the North Sea towards Hamburg. The navigator then reported that the coast was ahead. The last time he heard those words, the word 'enemy' was attached.
They flew over Hamburg towards their base and touched down and were met by a lorry that took them to the debriefing room.
'Sdr. Ldr. do you feel fit enough to make a trip to Berlin as soon as you have had your lunch, as things are becoming urgent?' asked the Duty Officer.
'I should think so, it was a very uneventful trip from the UK,' replied Peter.
Later that afternoon Peter and his crew and a more experienced airlift Pilot with them were on their way to RAF Gatow in Berlin to deliver a load of food and this time no bombs. Peter felt a lot better that he was helping to keep people alive rather than trying to kill them. As they got into the British air corridor, out of the blue a Russian YAK fighter started to buzz them trying to make them turn back.
Peter carried on; at least this fighter was not shooting at them. On they flew; soon the city of Berlin was before them. The last time Peter had seen Berlin it was dark and fires covered large areas of the city. Now in daylight and from a much lower level Peter could see mile after mile and acre upon acre of bombed out buildings. Down there he knew people were trying to pull their lives together among the piles of rubble and empty grey walls. All that really had changed was the death of Hitler. Now the cities of his country and ours were in ruin.
He thought to himself as he saw the ruins, won't mankind ever be free of the psychopathic megalomaniacs who think they know better than the rest. In reality it's us, the ordinary man, who turn their evil words into actions but eventually even we, the individuals, have to obey or suffer the consequences.
As he looked down at the ruins and thought of the fifty million dead. Turning to his co-pilot, Peter said, 'It had to be done but, what a bloody waste!'
Historical side note
The Berlin Airlift officially ran from 24th June 1948 until the Russians opened the roads to Berlin on the l2th May 1949, although the airlift actually continued until 30th Sept 1949. There were 278,228 flights, with the U.S. delivering 1,783,573 tons and the U.K. delivering 541,937 tons. A total of 2,326,406 tons was delivered by all concerned.
The cost in lives was 101 people of which 40 were Brits and 31 Americans. The financial cost was between £1.3 B and £3.0 B (in present money).
15 Lancastrian Aircraft were involved in the air lift and made over 5000 trips.
WAAFs were renamed as the WRAF on the 1st Feb 1949.
And Sdr. Ldr. Lawrence, returned to my imagination along with his wife Joanne and Don Billington.