F/Sgt. L F English (NZ.415524)

Lloyd English was an RNZAF airman serving with 619 Squadron RAF Bomber Command in WWII. He was killed, along with the rest of his crew, on his 12th operation (Peenemunde) during the night of 17/18 August 1943. He would have been my uncle had I ever met him.

Here is a letter he wrote after completing his first four ops in June 1943. They were:
21/22 June – Krefeld
24/25 June – Elberfeld/Wuppertal
25/26 June – Gelsenkirchen
28/29 June – Cologne

If you find this interesting – please say so. There is much more (letters, diaries, photos, log, official docs) where this came from – starting when he shipped out of NZ in 1942 to sail to Canada (for training) right through most of his ops (last couple excepted). And many questions to be answered if you’re keen – in particular, what happened to them over Peenemunde (and no, Martin Middlebrook doesn’t know). So like I say, I need feedback about whether to invest time and energy on this – especially typing up literally books of handwriting!

cheers Don

———————————————
N.Z. Army Base,
Agar Street, Strand, London
30/6/43

Dear Russ

It seems a hell of a long time since I wrote last. I hope it isn’t as long as it seems. Will try and send you an airgraph but it’s fairly difficult to get to the Post Office.

I suppose you know by now I am on a Squadron and am operational. So far I’ve done 4 trips. We had been on the Squadron for about 2 weeks and hadn’t done much except a few X countries etc. then one day we see on the board that we are on ops that night. Well as may be expected the old arse twitched susceptibaly (I don’t think that is spelt right but you understand). So we went out to the kite and took it up on a test etc.etc. then tea and then briefing. It was a trip to the “Happy Valley” as the Ruhr Valley is called. So after that back for supper (bacon and eggs) about the only time we see it, and down to the kite. Prior to leaving [I realised] we were going on ops and I thought “hell I bet I’ll be in a flat spin and scared as hell all day” but strangely enough I wasn’t. Just the empty feeling in the old gut especially when we crossed the enemy coast.

My job is to sit in the tail and look for enemy fighters and nothing else. I don’t know whether you’ve ever seen a turret but there is very little room in them especially when we’ve got all our gear on. Well I have to stand up most of the time to get a good all round view and when you’ve done that for a couple of hours with the kite weaving all the time to say the least of it is bloody uncomfortable. Fortunately we were fairly late in the attack and the searchlights and flak were very slight. We nearly sh!t though when on the way home a fighter attacked us. We fired at him but I don’t think we hit him. I can’t even remember looking through my sights. He didn’t come back again so that was the main thing. You should have seen the target. I almost felt sorry for Jerry. That’s all the fun we had but believe me it’s not so hot stooging along and fighting the 3rd Reich all on your own.

Well, that was our first; the second some 3 nights later was much hotter. There were plenty of searchlights and flak. Jerry has got their defence down to a fine art. It’s nothing to see 200 or 300 searchlights in cones of 50 or so. That night was quite uneventful except the mid-upper gunner got a bit of shrapnel through his turret. The next one the next night was much the same except there was dense cloud underneath us. Some flak came bloody close and a fighter attacked us on the way in. I think we hit him but didn’t bring him down. Then a couple of nights (later?) we went over again. That was pretty bloody hot but we got out of it O.K. and saw a fighter on the way in but threw the kite round and lost him.

We were promised leave after we had done 3 or 4 but we don’t get any until 2 weeks today which is a bugger as an awful lot can happen in 2 weeks. There is not a hell of a lot of future in this game but we can only hope for the best. I’ll tell you this, I’ve never prayed so much in all my life. Especially over the target. I think even the hardest old sinner would. I hope you don’t get the impression from these pages that I enjoy ops because, boy, each time we go I’m sh!t scared and don’t mind admitting it. We’ve got to do 30 trips and then we stand down for 6 to 9 months instructing so that won’t be so bad. We should be able to keep both feet on the ground anyway. You stay where you are, boy. This war is O.K. until you start fighting, then it stinks. I’d like some leave though.

Did I tell you about my little WAAF in London. She’s a hell of a nice type. I thought I was looking forward to my last leave but, boy oh boy, do I want this one. Before I forget. If I do happen to go for a sh!t I’ve left a note this end that I would like David to have any money I have in the bank here. It mightn’t be much after leave but even so it might help him to start an a/c. I’d like Trader to have my diaries as he is keen on writing and may be able to get something from them. When he is finished with them you or David can have them if they are any use.

But enough of this morbidness. I have every confidence in getting through but better men than I am have gone so you never can tell. How are things with you, O.K. I hope. I hope you are not rotting in your Pacific Paradise. Well old man, I must close now as I see our meagre repast is ready. Will try and write again soon. In the meantime, cheerio and all the very best.

Your loving brother, Lloyd.