Letter to the Editor

Dear Sir,

Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Antony Willis (I served in the RAF 1978 to 1997). My father was a Mid-upper Gunner operating in Lancasters on 44 Squadron.

He bailed out and spent the last 6 months of the war in a POW camp in eastern Germany until liberated by the Soviet Army. He was an Association member until his death in 1996.

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I intend to scan all his documents. Would they be of interest to you ?

My son has identified a memorial to another aircraft that also crashed on the same raid but we could not locate where his plane went down. He was on Op Hilbronn  on December 4th 1944. Aircraft reg no. KMC
He became a member of The Caterpillar Club. Until I attended 10 Sqn reunions I had never seen another one before. The gentleman concerned was mentioned in the book, Into the Silk. Any information would be  gratefully received.

Kind Regards
Tony Willis

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A Golfing Story

Alan, who lived in the east of England, decided to go golfing in Scotland with his buddy, Paul. They loaded up Alan's minivan and headed north. After driving for a few hours, they got caught in a terrible blizzard. They pulled into a nearby farm and asked the attractive lady who answered the door if they could spend the night. “I realise the weather is terrible and I have this huge house all to myself, but I'm recently widowed,” she explained, “and I'm afraid the neighbours will talk if I let you stay in my house.” “Don't worry,” Alan said. “We'll be happy to sleep in the barn. If the weather breaks, we'll be gone at first light.” The lady agreed. The two men found their way to the barn and settled in for the night. Come morning, the weather had cleared, and they got on their way. They enjoyed a great weekend of golf.

About nine months later, Alan got an unexpected letter from an attorney. It took him a few minutes to figure it out, but he finally determined that it was from the attorney representing that attractive widow he had met on the golf weekend. He dropped in on his friend Paul and asked, “Paul, do you remember that good-looking widow from the farm we stayed at on our golf holiday in Scotland, about 9 months ago?” “Yes, I do,” said Paul. “Did you, er, happen to get up in the middle of the night, go up to the house and pay her a visit?” “Well, um, yes!,” Paul said, a little embarrassed about being found out, “I have to admit that I did.” “And did you happen to give her my name instead of telling her your name ?” Paul's face turned beet red and he said, “Yeah, look, I'm sorry, buddy. I'm afraid I did.” “'Why do you ask ?”

“She just died and left me everything!”