Meeting a legend

Had the privilege of meeting the only remaining Gladiator-veteran from 9th of April 1940 last week. I typed up a quick article about my meeting. He is truly a legend this man. Larger than life.

The article can be found at http://www.spitfirepilots.com/per_waaler.html but I’m putting it all down here so it won’t be just a “please go to my site” type of deal.

A meeting with a legend

«Yes, here they are now» Kari Støltun says and puts her coffee down. Downstairs, in the hallways at Gunnar Støltuns house, Per Waaler enters with Støltun himself close behind. Gunnar has picked up Per and is bringing him home for one reason; so I can meet Per Waaler.

Per is the only remaining veteran of 9th of April 1940 at 93 years of age. Despite his age, Per still has his driving license intact. He is the proof that it’s very possibly to keep mind and body sharp even if the age is creeping up. Per was nearly retired the year I was born. That says something (but I have a feeling it says more about how young I am, than how old Per is).

Downstairs, Per is quickly reaching out, shaking my hand. He tells me that both him and his wife Ruth (originally from Canada) have read «Gladiator» and thought it was terrific. It feels a bit surreal getting a message like that from one of those who actually lived through the war, but I put on a brave smile, and thanks him for his kind words. He knows who I am, and he remembers the letter I wrote him almost six years ago. He sent a picture and an autograph in return. I still have it framed.

Going upstairs, and to the living room, Per is instantly curious about me. Why I am writing about historic aviation, and why I would get the «mad idea» of writing a book about one of his good friends. I explain as best I can, how it all started and where it’s heading now. 15 years of history packed into mere four minutes.

Per gladly tells us about his years at the air force academy before the war, and the message they got on the radio from Rolf Torbjørn Tradin on the 9th of April. He remembers that message very well (every man for himself, good luck).

«We should have shot more of them down» Per states seriously. He means it. I thought the result they did in their primitive Gladiators was more than impressive.
«Did you have altitude on them?» I wonder.
«Oh yes, we had plenty of height on them, we were in a perfect position» Per says.

We speak about plenty from the war years, and eventually focus on the short time Per had with a Halifax squadron before he was shot down on his first mission as a second dickie. We jump back to 1941 again, and I mention the injuries he got as an instructor in Canada. I’m pleased I read the book Pers pupil wrote about that fatale day. Per tells us that the aeroplane stalled on landing, and went straight in. It took months before he was on his feet again. The pupil was in fact an experienced one, and Per never expected him to do such a brutal mistake during landing. Both of them had to pay for it.

The most surprising to me is his explenation as to why he ended up in Bomber Command, and not with Fighter Command. He was, after all, a fighter pilot.
« I wanted to make use of myself in the best way possible» he tells us. Per meant that by the time he got on his feet again after the accident in Canada, the defence of the British isles was secure. He was sure that he could do a much more important job for the war effort being a Halifax-pilot than a Spitfire-pilot.
«But were you aware of their losses?» I wonder. I’m quite shocked to hear his reasons for choosing Bomber Command. I always thought it was something he was ordered to do.

Per nods as confirmation. He knew.

The fact he chose to go to Bomber Command says all about Pers integrity and personality. I hardly thought it was possible that anyone wanted to fly bombers over Germany in 1943. Per is proof of the contrary. The bombers went down in large numbers, but he took the risk.

Bomber Command suffered heavy losses, and Per got to experience it first-hand. On his first mission to Dortmund, half of the crew of the Halifax he was on, lost their lives. Per got out of the stricken bomber in one piece, and started to make his way towards the channel coast.

«However, I had not really figured out how to cross the Rhine» he laughs.

He was captured after five days walking. Together with Marius Eriksen, he walked in the gate at Stallag Luft III. In this camp, Per would spend the last years of world war two.

Per remembers «The great escape» well, and the devestating result of the escape with all those pilots executed on Hitlers command. They thought the most serious that would happen if they were caught was a lone cell for a couple of weeks.

«Isn’t it interesting that it was two Norwegians and a Pole that were the only ones to get out alive?» I ask him.
«Oh, he wasn’t a Pole, he was Dutch» Per replies, and corrects my mistake. He knew several of those who did escape and got executed, among them Norwegians Nils Jørgen Fuglesang and Haldor Espelid.

We keep talking, and all those familiar names pop up; Rolf Arne Berg, Tarald Weisteen, Oscar Albert Lütken, Arve Braathen, Svein Heglund and Ole Reistad. Per knew them all. They were his friends and collegues. I drop him the name Arne Austeen, and Per can confirm that he knew him too. I tell about the street in Gjøvik in his name, and about the unknown grave in Germany that most likely is Austeens. Per listens with interest, and tells me it was all new to him.

Time is running, and Per have to get back to his wife Ruth. On the way back we drive towards Oslo, and Per can inform us that his parents got married in a church we pas on our right hand side for exactly hundred years ago. I imagine that the area must have been slightly different back then.

Going up the last hill before we’re there, a car suddenly shows up just infront of our own. Gunnar steps on the break immediately, and avoids a head-on collision. The speed wasn’t all that great, but the cars would have been quite banged up nonetheless. Gunnar starts laughing, and says he can confirm with great confidence that even if he’s not 20 years old any more, the skill of reacting is just as good as before. Per couldn’t agree more.

I shake Pers hand one last time before he leaves us for Ruth, and thank him again for taking the time to meet me. A few days before our meeting, I had spoken to Gunnar about being born just a little too late to meet all these heroes from the world war two, and how one might get a bit jealous of those who actually did have the chance to do so. Per has gotten word about my feelings, and gives me one last comment before he goes;
«It is I who should be jealous you know, you will live a lot longer than me!» he laughs and waves goodbye.

So, if I am as lucky as Per and can celebrate my 93rd birthday, I will remember back to the day I met Per Waaler. I can proudly announce that I actually met one of the few who flew a Gloster Gladiator into battle on the 9th of April 1940.