DUTCH INDONESIAN MEMOIRS 1941 - 1948

HANGER 6  Naval Airstation Morokrembangan

Page 2. 2ND MEMOIR ACCOUNT FROM HANGER 6
W. J (WIM) VERSNELL

South Africa to England
RAF Bircham Newton, Methwold & Attlebridge

After some time, we left Cape Town on our way to England.  We should have gone to Freetown on the west coast of Africa for a stop, but at that time a German raider was very active in that vicinity so it was decided not to stop there. We would have made a good catch for the raider. We didn't have much to do, only keeping our quaters clean.  I can remember that the British soldiers were playing a lot of Housy-Housy (Bingo), so some of us joined them to pass the time.  The canteen was well stocked with soft drinks and Cherry-ripe chocolates.  It could have been something else as I can remember that this chocolate had coconut in it.

The food on board was mediocre, nothing like I was used to scrounge on the Nieew Amsterdam. In Cape Town we were supplied with British winter uniforms, as we were going to a colder climate. All the while the ship was zigzagging to our destination.

We went quite far to the North and must have passed South of Iceland to avoid the German U-boats wolfpacks.  Then we turned South-East again to Liverpool.  During this stretch two torpedoes were fired at us, lucky enough detected by the watch in the crow's nest.  The ship had just come out of a zig and went right back again in a zag.  The ones that were on deck at that time saw the air-bubbles from two torpedoes passing us on the portside.  A few days later we arrived in the Irish Sea and not long after reached Liverpool, where we had to wait for the ships pilot.  The whole trip was done unescorted.  Our speed was about 18 knots, which was not bad for an older ship.

When I was watching the sight of Liverpool from the railing of our ship what struck me was all the barrage-balloons.  A sailor from the crew standing next to me remarked, that if they cut all the cables from those balloons, the land would sink.  We went by train to Wolverhampton, where we were billeted in Wrottesley Park, a camp of the Dutch Princess Irene Brigade.  We were often allowed to go ashore in Wolverhampton where I had my first taste of English draught beer.

I settled for M&B, which I had for the rest of my stay in England, unless I could get some bottled Lager beer.  I was surprised really that beer was flowing so freely, seeing how it was May 1942 and England had already been at war for more than two years.  I met a nice little redhead, who took me home after a few days to meet her folks, I got on very well with her Dad, as he had been a rubber planter in Malaya, very like my own father who was a rubber planter in Java and we had lots to talk about, especially when Lilly's father mentioned the fact that he often went on Holidays in Bandung in Java.  I asked him, why not in Singapore and he said: "That dirty old town with all those stuck-up people in the Raffles Hotel".  I saw what he meant in 1945.  We stayed in Wrottlesley Park for a few weeks to rest from the rest we already had on the Christiaan Huygens.  But I think it was mainly because the top brass of the Dutch Navy really did not know what to do with us, rookies.

Finally, it was decided to split our group in two and send one half to HMS. Ambrose in Dundee, Scotland to be attached to the Dutch Submarines as torpedomakers, and some to the torpedo factory in Greenock. This group was a mixture of both Dutch and Dutch Indonesians and like us very young.
22 cadets were sent to Dundee to train not as vleigtuigmakers but torpedomakers. https://dutchindonesianmemoirs.com/hanger-6-dundee-torpedomakers/

Reference:
The torpedo factory in 1943 was going through a major change. The need for greater production warranted that torpedo manufacture would move to the Alexandria factory in Dunbartonshire. Greenock was then given over to the Torpedo Experimental Establishment (TEE).

The second half, including yours truly were sent to RAF Bircham Newton near Kings Lynn in Norfolk, where Dutch 320 squadron was stationed in Coastal Command.  There we were split again.  About ten blokes were made: “Paai WC", meaning keeping the toilets and shower rooms clean and do all sorts of domestic duties. (Pieter Pijpeart would have been in this group)

The rest of us were sent to the hangar to work on the Lockheed Hudsons.  Soon it became obvious that this was the first time we were close to aircraft.  Remember, we were still filling steel blocks in Surabaya, when we left there in a hurry.  In other words, we were useless, only good for sweeping the hangar floor and hand tools up to the old mechanics, who had been with the squadron since it first operated in 1940.  It had then been decided to send us all to an RAF mechanic-school for three months, so we would get acquainted with the secrets of warplanes.

Lockheed Hudson 1942

In the meantime, we were discovered by a Marine sergeant, J.van Pelt, who continued our marching abilities.  We marched every day on all the roads and lanes around the station.  We were lucky, because at that time there were a lot of brambles on either side of the road.  Eventually we were all off to RAF Gosford, and I mean the lot of us.  A Dutch East Indies sergeant aircraft mechanic came with us.  This sergeant had been with our group of 140 since Morokrembangan, where he was partly in charge of our block filling lessons and was with us all the time on our journey to England.  He was a real nice bloke and was always ready with advice.  His name was J.M.Nijsen.

Actually, there were two sergeants with our group.  The other one was Sgt. G.G.A. Birsak, who went shortly after for pilot-training in Jackson Mississippi. After, he finished his training he joined 320 Squadron in Dunsfold, but was shot down on March 20 1944 near the village of Bourbon (France).  When we left Surabaya, he went in his own car to Cilacap, a Fiat 500 and drove it over the quayside into the water, as he did not want the Japanese to have his car.

The training in Gosford was theoretical as well as practical.  The plane we were taught on most was the Fairy Fulmar, fitted with a Rolls Royce Kestrel engine and we were also made familiar with the Bristol sleeve-valve engines.  However, sergeant Nijsen taught us on the side a lot about the Pratt & Whitney radial engines and the Wright Cyclone as they were the ones we would be working on mostly.  The station was quite good, with a lot of WAAF’s and going into town was also convenient.  After three months we were supposed to be fully fledged aircraft-engine mechanics, but it took a while to convince the old hands at 320 that this was the case.

After a while some of our men were transferred to 860 squadron.  I can't remember how many and exactly when the transfer took place, but by recent information I heard that your father was with this group.  But you must have heard all about it from C.B. Rosielle from Belgium.

Also same of our boys got transferred to 321 squadron in Colombo so there were not too many of us left in 320 squadron.  There are many blank spots in my memory about this time, probably self-inflicted, as I/we were drinking quite a lot in those days.

The whole squadron was transferred to RAF Methwold in 1943, where we got the new B.25 or Mitchells and attached to Bomber Command.  Not long after we were transferred again to RAF Attlebridge.  This was quite a good base, as near our Nissen huts, practically inside the camp perimeter was a farmhouse, where the farmers’ daughter (about l7 years old), tried nearly everything to attract our attention, for example handstands without panties on.  We always, had a good look from a distance and I don’t think anyone had the nerve to ask her out as she was really underage, but it was a lot of harmless fun anyway.

On this station was also a Polish Mitchell squadron.  We were there at Xmas time 1943 and as usual I did a lot of drinking.  A mate of mine had an old motorbike and we both took it in turns to ride the bike flat-out on the runway. What happened, was only to be expected, we fell off the bike, because we both had a few drinks.  The only thing hurt, was our pride, so we put the bike quietly away and hoped nobody had seen us tearing up and down that runway.

However somebody and maybe more had seen it, and a few days later I was called to see the Technical Officer in his office.

Immediately I thought of the motorbike affair and would be reprimanded for it.  When I was admitted into the office, he had a big smile on his face and said he had heard that I loved riding a motorbike.  He then asked me if I would be willing to attend a convoy driving school for a couple of weeks.  It was to be in Blackpool and the billeting would be with civilians.  This was to have drivers for the coming invasion I couldn't think of anything better, as I liked Blackpool and had been there before on a weekend pass and they had "XL lager" in the pubs.

I was the only one of 320 Sqd to get this opportunity and left the week after with two Polish men of 305 Sqd.  The funny thing is that I can remember both their names: Olenieczak and Roboskiewisz.  They were nice blokes and we got along together very well.  We had been given the address of the people we were to board with.  I think they did it to earn some extra money, anyway the lodgings were very good and so were the meals.

The first week we were taught to drive in a Hillman car.  As I had been driving in Java before, this was a real sightseeing week, as the three of us had to take it in turns.  The week after we had to drive in old Crossly trucks I think they must have been old WWI trucks they were that old and cumbersome.  If you could drive them without difficulty, you could drive anything.  When we got used to them, the convoy driving started in daytime and also during a couple of nights.  At night I was always having a few XL lagers in the Manchester bar, which was a grand place.  Plenty of good drinks and lots of girls.  I really enjoyed myself and we were sorry when it was all finished, after we passed our exam.

Back to Attlebridge, were we did not stay very much longer, as the squadron was being moved to RAF Lasham where for the aircrews the real training started on the Mitchells.  Every time I had a chance to go with them as ballast I did so, as it meant an extra five bob per hour in the pay packet.

In February 1944 the squadron was moved again to RAF Dunsfold and was attached to 139 Wing Tactical Air Force.  The ground crew was since that time called 6320 Servicing Echelon.  Since we left, I lost sight of the Polish Mitchell squadron.  Maybe the idea was, one foreign squadron per airfield.  But I am not sure of this, as I did not dabble in politics at that time.  Dunsfold was a very busy and a hectic time for both the aircrews and ground personnel, as many sorties were made.  The squadron lost many aircrews and also some of our group who went for air gunner training.  I applied as an air gunner too, but was knocked back, maybe because I was too valuable as an aircraft refueller, as I often had to drive the petrol bowser, a job I didn't mind doing.  Dunsfold was right in the path of the German VI flying bombs, and sometimes at night there were some anxious moments when one came flying over and the spluttering of the motor stopped.

Lucky for all of us none of those VI’s fell on Dunsfold.

There were three squadrons of Mitchells stationed there No.98 squadron with the letters VO painted on the fuselage. No.180 squadron which had EV and 320 squadron NO.

The plane I was in charge of was the NO-U, which during the whole operation never had a forced landing, caused by flak.  The NO-U took part during the invasion and was de-commissioned in June 1945, so it saw the whole war through from half a year before the D-Day till the end of the war it had made 136 missions during operations.  NG Mitchell had flown more sorties l was always working on the port-engine, somebody else on the starboard engine and another one on the fuselage.  And then there were of course the radio-mechanics and the armoury blokes, who looked after the ammo in the guns and had to bomb her up before an op.  When I had to man the petrol bowser somebody else took over the port engine. We were working flat-out there in Dunsfold.