COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

CHAPTER FIVE WINTER IN FLANDERS
were not enough. We became birds of passage, moving from strip to
strip, trying to keep up with the pace of the advance. Until the Wing
stopped briefly at Lille/Vendeville and went into action against the
German garrisons defending the Channel ports.
A forecast of non flying weather led to a spontaneous night on the
town. The liberation was very new and everywhere 'les Aviateurs
Anglais' were warmly welcomed. Some hours and many drinks later we
came across a vast emporium with swing doors reminiscent of a
Western saloon. Inside was a large room with a sunken floor covered
in sawdust. On the far side, standing with her back to the bar, was the
most remarkable creation - an Amazon warrior in the flesh - and what
flesh! The skin tight black leather bra and pants showed off her well
endowed shape to perfection and the force of her personality was
positively elemental.
She strode across the sawdust towards us, brandishing a whip and
sadly, as she came nearer, the image changed. The flesh was just too
substantial and the beautiful face was hard and demanding. This harpy
took one look at Felix - in build apart from the obvious differences
they were not dissimilar - and decided that she had found a soul mate,
or at least a mate for the night. She threw herself at him with glad
cries of "Mon Dieu - quel magnifique!" and the like. To which Felix
responded ungallantly "Christ I'm off."
In the end we persuaded him to stick around as the rest of us were
more than curious about the goings on in this very strange
establishment. Felix was scared to death. He only recovered his
confidence when there was a burst of machine gun fire out in the
street. That was something he understood and could cope with!
Having no wish to become involved with a bunch of trigger happy
Frenchmen, who seemed at one in their determination to eliminate the
hated traitors of France, we returned to the jeep and drove back to
base.
The following day, wandering around nursing our hangovers,
Charlie Hall and I found a German bomb dump. The 250kg bombs had
been fitted with screamers, four to a bomb. The thought occurred to
us that we might fit a larger version to our Typhoons. Stan Carr
organised several prototypes, and they kept us amused for days. But
the idea was quickly forgotten when we moved to Armament Practice
Camp at Fairwood Common.
The APCs 1 provided range facilities, a supply of practice bombs
and rockets, aircraft servicing and rearming. The rest was up to the
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