COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

COMBAT AND COMPETITION
spots away from the city centre. Places where there was safety in
numbers, if only to support those who might yield to temptation!
One evening these precautions were of no avail. The setting itself
was innocent enough. Half a dozen of us sitting round the bar, in
conversation with Madame, whilst her assistant hovered in the
background. No hint of the unexpected until it suddenly registered
that one of our party had been missing for some time. Madame pulled
back the heavy curtains. And there, like the male lead in some erotic
play, was our missing colleague in flagrante delicto with Girl Friday.
We stood transfixed, trying to find words to express our...... who
knows? - and then gave up, closing the curtains gently and leaving
them to their pleasures.
We were dedicated party goers. It was part and parcel of squadron
life. A way of unwinding at the end of the day. Celebrating a
successful show, trying to forget, or when we had just lost a friend.
Like the night after Pete Langille bought it attacking an enemy column
- caught by flak - too low to bail out. Pete, loyal and dependable,
never seeking the limelight. His courage had been an inspiration. We
would miss him like hell.
Charlie's voice broke in on my thoughts:
"Another snort old man? "
And the ever watchful Jimmy, like some demonic conductor,
urging us on:
"Cats! Sister's Cat's! My Sister's Cat's! Up My Sister's Cat's!
Pudding Up My Sister's Cats! Black Pudding Up....!"
We bellowed it out again and again through all its lewd
permutations. Helpless with laughter as the drink took hold and the
mistakes became more and more frequent. Laughter which relieved
and relaxed. Wonderfully therapeutic. And we knew that wherever he
was Pete would understand.
That night was long ago and the memories grow dim. Was it just
about Pete alone? Or all of them? The ones who never came back.
When Johnny Baldwin went on rest, 'Bomber' Wells took over as
Wing Leader. His arrival coincided with a series of new developments,
phosphorous incendiaries, blind bombing under ground radar control
and target photography.
Our camera equipped Typhoons, survivors of the ones which I had
helped deliver to Odiham in the previous June, were acquired by
Denys Gillam from 35 Wing as they were about to depart for
Gilze-Rijen. He could claim that he was doing them a favour. Taking
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