Celebrating Phil Tripe

That Spitfire Model Story

2012-02-12T10:43:00.001-04:00

While going through all the collection of letters and documents which were carefuly kept by my Mom, I came across two letters of Dad's regarding the model of the Spitfire which was shown in an earlier posted photo with my terrific cousin John Hall.

And so the model got built all those years ago. After Dad died in 1982, his model Spitfire went to one of his best friends, Pete Bonell who subsequently donated it to a small aviation museum at the airbase in North Bay, Ontario. Below are 2 photos of the model in the museum.

As the years went by, the museum really wasn't open very much. My brother Gord took on the project of getting the model back (which took some time) and then wanted to restore/refurbish it with a possible view to flying it.

And here it is on Gord's floor at his home in North Bay. He also sent the specifications of the model - those appear below the photo. It was a long labour but I'm sure it has been most satisfying for Gord and I thank him for the dedication it took.

We'll see what happens this year with the model. Should it fly, I'll let you all know.

PS - I asked brother Gord to contribute a piece to this part of the blog on how this all came about. I've also included a couple letters which are self-explanatory.

"Here's more information. I'm including the letters to and from regarding getting the plane from the museum. Pete and I went there in early April, 2010 to see it and ask Cpt. Newman about its return. Following the correspondence, I picked it up in late June, 2010.

"Pete had mentioned that the original Super Tiger .60 glow fuel motor that Dad had installed ran "hot" and he and his son had removed it to try it in another plane. No luck - it seems it had a faulty bearing. They then prepared it for installation and donation to the museum.

"When I examined it initially, I discovered that 2 of the servo motors (controlling the ailerons and the air actuated landing gear)) were missing. The retractable landing gear was no longer operable (time had taken its toll on the small diameter tubing inside the wing) and the remaining servos (for the rudder and elevator), while working, were somewhat below today's standards.

"I investigated a replacement for the glow fuel motor, but concluded that I would have difficulty testing it in the living room of my condominium. Today's brushless, electric motors weren't available when Dad built the plane. These motors deliver excellent, reliable power and are more than equivalent to the original Super Tiger motor Dad had intended.

"Once that decision was made, it was on to acquiring the motor, speed control and batteries, figuring out where everything was going to go, and get on with the building. During the process, I checked all the screws, nuts, and bolts and ensured that the control surfaces were operating properly. The installation of 3 new, digital servos for the ailerons, rudder and elevator was the final step.

"I touched up the nicks and dings that had occurred to the paint over the years and painted the new parts I had installed. It would have been almost impossible to match the original paint, so I opted for colours which were "close". This way, the work I did will be clearly visible to anyone looking closely.

"I even contacted Dave Platt (the original designer of the model) regarding the plane's likely Center of Gravity. He emailed me back right away, wishing me luck, and suggesting 28%. After figuring out what that meant (28% of the length of the root chord of the wing), I checked and the plane balances. That meant that all of my calculations regarding the weight of the original components which had been removed (motor, fuel tank, throttle servo, fuel lines, and fuel in the original versus the electric motor, speed control and batteries which I had installed) were correct.

"It has been a very satisfying process to have my hands on a model that Dad spent so much time on (he was a great builder). I've been careful to do my best, to make this plane fly. After it flies successfully, I'll take on the task of getting the retractable landing gear operating. I'd like to simply repair the system already in place. If that's not possible, an upgrade to electric retracts is the answer."

And here are the 2 letters -

May 12, 2010

Lt. Col. Francois Beaupre
Base Commander
Canadian Forces Base North Bay
Hornell Heights
North Bay, ON
P0H 1P0

Chairman of CFMAD

Dear Sir,

I am writing today with a request for my father’s (Lt. Col. P.V.K. Tripe) Spitfire which is currently part of the museum’s collection at CFB North Bay.

The Spitfire, which was constructed shortly before his death, was given by my family to Pete Bonell after his death. Pete donated the plane to the museum, where it currently resides, suspended from the ceiling.

The family has great interest in this plane for sentimental reasons (my father flew Spitfire’s during World War II, initially for the RAF and later the RCAF) and I have a keen interest in radio control aircraft. It’s our hope to see the plane fly again.

I discussed the matter, yesterday, with Captain R. Doug Newman, who was kind enough to provide access to the museum, and he suggested I direct this enquiry to you as Base Commander. I understand the museum committee is meeting later this month, and, as there is another model of a Spitfire at the museum, it is our hope that this plane can come back to us.

I have included my address, phone number and email address below and will await the museum’s response.

Your consideration of this request receives our thanks.

Yours sincerely,

Gordon Tripe
North Bay, ON
Email: gtripe@cogeco.ca

Flight Logs & Diaries - October 1944 to January 1945

2012-01-29T10:42:00.000-04:00

So here we are at the end of the flight logs and diaries for Mom and Dad's war. I will be inserting some other photos as I find them over the next while but the this project is almost finished. It has been a long journey. I found out some very interesting things about my Mom and Dad's lives from 1938 through 1945. There are still some gaps and questions but they may have to wait for a while as I digest it all.

As I said at the beginning of this blog, this project would not have happened without the material in my possession now plus material that has come to me from siblings and relatives and great friends along the way.

I remember back in the 90s transcribing the logs and the diaries. I had just retired from the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and this was a good way to unwind. I gave copies of that document to siblings and cousins at a family reunion.

Then there was a gap of over 10 years. When my cousins John and David got fired up over those documents and I had acquired a scanner, the project took on a new life. And if you go back to the beginning of this blog, you'll see how it all unfolded.

There are still some entries in Dad's second log book which were made in dribs and drabs into the 1950s. After I do some work on this past part, I will enter them here as well.

I will save some final words for the very end. But it's been a trip!

Anne C.

Flight Logs & Diaries - June to September, 1944

2012-01-29T09:14:00.000-04:00

Flight Logs & Diaries - April to May, 1944

2012-01-27T11:21:00.001-04:00

My Dad and me in Chester.

This photo is labelled 130 Punjab Squadron. Dad is in the second row and second from the left.

Diaries - March, 1944

2012-01-27T11:06:00.000-04:00

Not too much here.

Diaries - February, 1943

2012-01-26T14:52:00.000-04:00

This is who Leigh Mallory was http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trafford_Leigh-Mallory.

The telegram above is from Dad's parents in Ottawa.

Diaries - January, 1944

2012-01-26T10:43:00.001-04:00

This is the month when Dad received the Distinguished Flying Cross. Here is the entry in The London Gazette.

And then there is a long gap in Dad's flight logs until April of this year. One of Mom's entries says he was posted to Grangemouth which seems to have been a training base. I'll wait to hear from the "experts" on this.

In the meantime, here are Mom's diary entries for January, 1944. Her beloved brother Bill came to see us this month. He was Lieutenant in the Royal Canadian Army and was one of the soldiers who helped to liberate the Netherlands. I think he was in the Service Corps. Mom's friend Pat Pimlott took the photo of the three of us.

I think some of Mom's entries are really revealing. She went to meet Dad in Newcastle and says he seemed to be much better. She adds that she thinks it's "just his nerves bothering him".

Flight Logs & Diary - November & December, 1943

2012-01-24T16:10:00.000-04:00

I have no more Combat Reports. I may go back to the British National Archives to see if there are any more but I don't think there are. Mom's diary entries are beginning to peter out. There are now gaps in Dad's log book as well. And this does it for 1943.

Flight Logs, Combat Reports & Diary - October, 1943

2012-01-24T15:10:00.000-04:00

Dad was able to be in Chester for Mom's 23rd birthday on October 13th. How good is that - for both of them!

Flight Logs, Combat Reports & Diary - September, 1943

2012-01-23T17:12:00.000-04:00

Flight Logs, Combat Reports & Diary - August, 1943

2012-01-21T11:01:00.000-04:00

This was a very busy time for everyone!

Flight Logs, Combat Reports & Diary - July & August, 1943

2012-01-21T10:18:00.000-04:00

222 Natal Squadron 1943

2012-01-21T09:38:00.001-04:00

The first photo here was taken in 1943 and shows the CO, Dad and Pat Burke.

And the photo above has the explanation below.

222 Squadron Scoreboard

The much travelled No 222 (Natal) Squadron wartime scoreboard and related battle honours originally came from the wing of an Me 109. The Me109 was shot down over Kent by Flying Officer MacMullen, a 222 Squadron pilot, on 15 Oct 1940 at the end of the Battle of Britain. The Squadron flew Spitfires from 1940 through to 1944 when it was re-equipped with Hawker Tempests. The Squadron’s final score showed 120 enemy aircraft confirmed destroyed, 62 probably destroyed and 138 damaged.

From roots in the RNAS, No 222 Squadron was formed on 1 Apr 1918 at Thasos equipped with Sopwith Camels for duties in the Aegean area and was disbanded on 27 Feb 1919. It was reformed on 5 Oct 1939 with Blenheim 1Fs, converting to Spitfires in 1940. Post-war it was equipped with Gloster Meteors and in Dec 1954 received Hawker Hunters which were in use until 1957. From May 1960 until final disbandment in Jun 1964 222 Squadron operated as a Bloodhound missile unit.

The Squadron’s connection with South Africa started in 1940 when there was widespread fund-raising throughout the Commonwealth to equip fighter squadrons. At that time the cost of a Spitfire was 6,000 - 7,000 pounds and the people of Natal raised more than 250,000 pounds. The Air Ministry decided this would be best used to equip and maintain a squadron which was already operational. The choice fell to 222 Squadron which officially became 222 (Natal) Squadron. The Squadron badge reflects the South African connection - its central feature is a Wildebeest and the motto "Pambili Bo" means "Go straight ahead" in Zulu.

The best known among the many fine pilots who flew with 222 was Douglas Bader who developed several of his theories on the art of aerial combat during his period as flight commander from Feb - Jun 1940. The Squadron operated from RAF Manston in July 1941.
The scoreboard was placed in the Memorial Museum Building in Jan 1997.

www.spitfire.memorial.museum/other.htm

And here is a group photo. The second image is my Mom's writing on the back of the photo. Dad is in the front row with the white scarf and the big grin.

Flight Logs, Combat Reports & Diary - June & July, 1943

2012-01-12T20:17:00.000-04:00

Dad and me in June 1943 in front of 13 Deva Terrace.

Flight Logs & Diary - May & June, 1943

2012-01-12T19:39:00.000-04:00

The above photo of 222 squadron is one of my favourites. Starting from left to right - Dad, Wyllie, Whalen, Smik, Legal, Cordery, Pat Burke, CO.

Flight Logs & Diary - April & May, 1943

2012-01-07T14:40:00.000-04:00

Flight Logs & Diary - March, 1943

2012-01-06T19:30:00.002-04:00

Flight Logs & Diary - February, 1943

2012-01-06T19:16:00.000-04:00

Flight Logs & Diary - January & February, 1943

2011-12-12T11:50:00.002-04:00

Here is where I can start inserting Mom's 1943 diary pages. I will insert some photos as we go along as well. "Phil & Cynth" are Philip and Cynthia Dutton who were my godparents. Dad is now at Drem - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drem - in Scotland. Dad flew to see Mom on February 13. He landed at the Hawarden airfield which is only a few miles away from Chester. Now how romantic was that for Valentine's Day what with his name being Philip Valentine King Tripe and all!

Flight Log Books - November, December, 1942 + Half January, 1943

2011-12-12T11:01:00.000-04:00

Flight Log Books - October 1942

2011-12-12T10:53:00.000-04:00

Flight Log Books - September 1942

2011-12-11T20:35:00.000-04:00

Here is a photo of Dad's Spitfire DBH and at the end is Mom and me in September of '42. And if you look very closely, you'll see "Elizabeth" on the fuselage just in front of the cockpit.

Flight Log Books - August 1942

2011-12-11T20:19:00.000-04:00

Flight Log Books - July 1942

2011-12-11T20:00:00.002-04:00

Below is a letter written to me by my Dad's mother which is really sweet.

Flight Log Books - June & July 1942

2011-12-11T19:55:00.000-04:00

Flight Log Books - May & June 1942

2011-12-11T19:36:00.001-04:00

I noted the reference to "Tealing" at the top the page on this log and was curious. Here is what Wikipedia has to say about it and I wondered... Also here is Mom's diary page from May 27, 1942.

Tealing is a village in Angus in eastern Scotland, nestled at the foot of the Sidlaw Hills. It is just 6 miles (9.7 km) north of the city of Dundee and 8 miles (13 km) south of Forfar.

During the Second World War, the Ministry of Defence built an aerodrome at Tealing and No. 56 Officer Training Unit opened in March 1942, equipped with Hurricane, Master and Lysander aircraft. The number of pilots training at the unit varied from about 35 to 40 in 1942, reaching a peak of 150 on 1943.

It was at the aerodrome that Tealing's most famous visitor arrived. On 20 May 1942, a strange four-engined aircraft appeared in the circuit at Tealing, piloted by Endel Puusepp. It was one of the first Russian TB7s to visit Britain and it brought Vyacheslav Molotov, Russian Foreign Minister and Deputy Chairman of the State Committee of Defence, on a military mission to meet with Sir Winston Churchill at Chequers. Tealing airfield was probably chosen to attract as little attention as possible and, for security reasons, there was a local news blackout at the time.

Molotov was given the choice of two aircraft in which to continue his journey to England. The one he did not select, as later revealed by Sir Archibald Hope, Senior Controller of Fighter Command in Scotland in 1942, crashed in the Vale of York, killing various members of Molotov's staff and senior RAF personnel. Molotov arrived safely in London for the signing of the Anglo-Soviet Treaty on 26 May 1942.

Flight Log Books - April & May 1942

2011-12-11T19:24:00.000-04:00

Dad is now flying Hurricanes.

Flight Log Books - March & April 1942

2011-12-11T19:20:00.000-04:00

Flight Log Books - January & February 1942

2011-12-11T19:11:00.000-04:00

We are now in 1942 and Dad is flying Defiants, Bothas, Lysanders and Whitleys.

Flight Log Books - November & December 1941

2011-12-11T13:19:00.001-04:00

We are finishing up 1941 here. He has moved to Lysanders and note the crash landing in the Hurricane.

Flight Log Books - August - October, 1941

2011-12-11T11:50:00.001-04:00

Dad seems to have taken the whole month of September off. Maybe he was on a course or something. He wasn't flying, according to his log book.

Flight Log Books - July 1941

2011-12-11T11:13:00.000-04:00

And this is July. I have included a photo of Mom and me possibly around my first birthday on July 29, 1941. It's one of my favourite pictures.

Flight Log Books - June 1941

2011-12-11T11:06:00.000-04:00

Here I am back again. Here are the logs for June 1941. Dad is still in the Whitleys.

Flight Log Books - May & June 1941

2011-09-11T18:57:00.001-03:00

Here is photo of Dad in the cockpit. I believe it's a Whitley. And there's also a photo of Mom and me. This one is taken at the window overlooking a small courtyard at 13 Deva Terrace, Chester.

And here are a few pages of Mom's diary. These are obviously torn out of a bigger diary. These are the only pages I have though as she didn't give me the rest of that book. I do have an entry for 1942 and I have her diaries from 1943 and 1944 which I will post when we get there. I'll add another page from July 1941 when I get to Dad's logs for next month.

Flight Log Books - March & April 1941

2011-09-11T18:27:00.000-03:00

Dad is now O.C. of "B" Flight. And at the end of April it seems he got a promotion to Flight Lieutenant. Here is a copy of a page out of a magazine which shows Dad welcoming a Canadian to Bomber Command. And a new plane has been added to the list - a Magister.

Flight Log Books - January & February 1941

2011-09-11T18:12:00.000-03:00

Here we are in a new year. Things seemed to have changed in January. I note that Dad is a Flying Officer O.C. of "D" Flight. I'm sure one of my very knowledgeable readers out there will correct me but I think this means that he is now an instructor with bomber command.

Flight Log Books - November & December 1940

2011-09-11T15:45:00.000-03:00

And so we finish out the year of 1940. And I hope he was able to be with Mom and me over Christmas - between December 19 and 28.

Flight Log Books - September & October 1940

2011-09-11T15:38:00.000-03:00

And more Whitley flying.

Flight Log Books - July & August 1940

2011-09-11T15:31:00.001-03:00

Here are two more months worth of flying Whitleys. You will note that while he didn't fly on his 22nd birthday (July 24), he did fly on my first birthday (July 29)!

Flight Log Books - June 1940

2011-09-08T15:06:00.001-03:00

In June 1940, Dad moved to No. 7 B.& G.S. at Newton Down - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RAF_Newton - and started training on Whitleys.

The Battle of Britain begins on July 10, 1940.

Flight Log Books - May 1940

2011-09-04T14:03:00.000-03:00

And now we move to training in May.

Flight Log Books - April 1940

2011-09-04T13:42:00.000-03:00

Still in training.

Flight Log Books - March 1940

2011-08-24T16:40:00.000-03:00

From March 4 through April 2, 1940 at Tern Hill.

February and early March 1940

2011-08-24T16:16:00.001-03:00

February may be blank in Dad’s Log Books but I suspect he was rather busy. He would have heard that Mom and her father were on their way to England. He probably had to find a place for Mom to live. And he had to find a church for them to be married in.

Here is a letter from Mom’s dear brother Bill. They were very close all through their lives. When Mom died in November of 1994, her brother died a few months later – in April of 1995. This letter was written just as Mom was heading overseas.

Here is a little map that was in my files of Tern Hill which where Dad was based.

You will see that Dad only took 4 days off from training for their wedding at St. Margaret of Antioch Anglican Church, Moreton Say on March 6. It looks like they were married by an R.A.F. Chaplain. I can’t quite make out his name on the Marriage Certificate.

Here are a couple of photos of the wedding. The first one is the whole wedding party:

L – R - RAF Chaplain, Dad, Mom, “Aunt” Hilda Pickmere (whose house we shared in Chester) and Grandpa Rannie (J. Les Rannie).

The second one is of the happy couple.

I really like this happy photo of Mom and Dad taken probably after the wedding.

And here is where Mom started her life for the next 5 years in Chester –

Flight Log Books - January 1940

2011-08-24T10:07:00.001-03:00

Here we are in January of 1940. Dad is training on the Avro Ansons at No. 10 F.T.S. Tern Hill.

I have included the pages below which have the Summary for January on them. Note that there are no entries for the month of February. I will speculate on that in the next posting.

Flight Log Books - December 1939

2011-08-23T15:05:00.002-03:00

So here Dad is back in England in training on Ansons. And here is what The London Gazette on October 22, 1940 published about Dad's being made a Substantive Pilot Officer http://www.london-gazette.co.uk/issues/34976/pages/6140

The undermentioned Pilot Officers are granted the following antedates in seniority in the substantive rank of Pilot Officer:—
27th Sept. 1938.
James Roger WHELAN (40330).
3rd Sept. 1939.
Maurice Kirby HOLLAND (41413).
6th Nov. 1939.
John Doar TOWLSON (41964).
10th Dec. 1939.
Pyers Arthur WORRALL (42291).
16th Dec. 1939.
Philip Valentine King TRIPE (42279).

Thanks to our friend Allan Hillman for The London Gazette information which is being added to some of the other pages of this blog.

Back to Canada and Then....

2011-08-23T14:58:00.000-03:00

Here is the passenger list when Dad left Liverpool on October 13, 1939 (Mom's 19th birthday) to go home to see his father, sisters and Mom.

Here is a menu from the Antonia when Dad went back to England after his recovery.

Here is a photo that Mom has labelled Uxbridge. I'm not sure when this is other than it must be early on.

And here is Mom around the same time.

Medals

2011-08-17T21:43:00.000-03:00

Dad's medals belong to someone else. Apparently they were sold to a store in Ottawa quite some time ago. There are different versions of the story so I won't go into that here.

What we do have is Dad's miniature dress medals and here are photos of the front and of the back of the row.

Going to Join Up

2011-08-16T10:54:00.002-03:00

Here is Dad on the "Antonia" on his way to England to join up.

He then applied to join the Royal Air Force and here is the first reply to his request -

And then the envelope arrived complete with a red wax seal!

And inside -

And now the "report to" instructions.

Here he is at the AST (Air Service Training) School at Ansty near Coventry, Warwickshire with his fellow pilot students. He's the one in the front row in the middle with the light trousers and the big grin.

Flight Log Books - June 1939

2011-08-08T10:17:00.002-03:00

Here is the second month of Dad's training. He got sick with undulant fever - a serious bacterial infection (brucellosis - can be caused by drinking raw milk. The disease has been known as Malta fever, Bang's disease, Mediterranean fever, rock fever, and goat fever. In humans, undulant fever assumes acute and chronic forms. The acute form is characterized by weakness, chills, and high night fevers and often results in central nervous system disorders, and painful joints) near the end of the month. My grandmother went to England to help nurse him back to health. She gave him her return ticket to Canada so he could see Mom. He arrived back in England on November 13 in Liverpool on the Antonia from Montreal and started back in training in December 1939 which will come next.

Here is a photo of Dad in training at Walsgrave, Coventry.

And here is a photo of Dad and his Mother in England when he was sick. He doesn't look all that well in this picture.

Flight Log Books - May 1939

2011-08-07T19:28:00.003-03:00

After a hiatus, I am back scanning and posting again. Here we are with May, 1939 - the very start of Dad's RAF training in England. I have also included the Passenger List of Dad going to England in March 1939.

I found this little snippet in the Ottawa Citizen on 20 February 1939 which said, "Mr. Phillip Tripe will sail by the “Antonia” this week for Liverpool, to spend some time with relatives." I imagine this was cod for going off the join the RAF if he could.

John Kevin Hall 1942 - 2011

2011-05-26T20:01:00.000-03:00

My cousin John was one of the main drivers in the search for information on his Uncle Phil. He died on May 11, 2011 at home in Ottawa. He helped with research and put together the poster that now resides at the Hotel Mardaga in Belgium.

This photo was taken in September 2010. John was just thrilled to be holding Dad's model Spitfire which had been "rescued" from a closed RCAF mueum in North Bay. This is how I will remember him best.

Statement of Service

2011-03-03T09:30:00.005-04:00

I had to get out Dad's service record in order to join the Port Royal Branch #21 Royal Canadian Legion on a totally different matter so I thought I'd post this today. This is his RCAF record which lives in the National Archives of Canada. The date is when I applied for it in order to join the Legion in Inuvik all those years ago.

Log Book 2 Entries

2011-01-15T11:42:00.005-04:00

Today I'm posting the last five pages from Dad's second Log Book. This book goes from August 31, 1943 right through until January 16, 1945. There are also entries in this second Log Book of flights he made from November 12, 1947 through September 29, 1958. I will post these later on.

Some 1944 Flight Log Book Pages - June 8 to September 14

2010-10-24T12:32:00.004-03:00

I was asked recently if there were flight log entries around D-Day. It's quite time consuming scanning the logs. They don't quite fit the scanner so each image has to be rotated and cropped.

I will take some time do some more scanning but in the meantime, here are pages from Dad's third log book starting at June 8 through to mid-September of 1944.

Y-32 Ophoven Airfield - Then and Now

2010-10-12T11:01:00.002-03:00

Our friend Karel Baetan sent a couple of fascinating photos the other day which I thought might be of interest. First, you will see an old photo of the airfield as it was in 1945. Karel was able recently to fly over the airfield and take photos as it id today. And last, you will see my photo taken from the ground when Bill and I were there in January this year.

Elizabeth's Diary 1944

2010-08-08T08:43:00.004-03:00

Mom used an RAF diary for 1944. It is a wonderful little book with all kinds of RAF information in the front. I've scanned the pages which include those planes which Dad flew or trained on throughout the war. I've also scanned a couple of pages of the diary itself. The "Bill" mentioned in the diary was my Uncle Bill - her brother. Bill was in the Army. More as I go along.

A Few More Interesting Bits & Pieces

2010-07-25T14:42:00.006-03:00

It's been a while. I've spent the day scanning a few documents I have here as part of the "collection". In oder, they are Dad's Pilot's Log Book starting in 1938; his Private Pilot's Certificate and Licence and his ID Card.

The log book is from his training at the Ottawa Flying Club. His ID card is somewhat of a mystery to me - maybe someone can help me out. As far as I know, he transferred to the RCAF in December 1944. But the card says 22 July 1944. His first name is spelled incorrectly and his eyes were hazel.

Yesterday would have been Dad's 92nd birthday.

Nijmegen Bridge

2010-03-21T09:30:00.005-03:00

Here I am again. I was at my brother Rob's in St. Catherines recently. He said he had come across one of those acordion file folders which Mom had filled with different categories. One was WWII pictures. As I went through them, I realized that these were new to my eyes. We all divided up the ones we wanted to keep and since I seem to the "keeper" of the items pertaining to Dad, I have those items to add to the collection.

Here is the one that caught my eye - the bridge at Nijmegen. Having checked out various websites with pictures of this bridge, I am convinced that this photo is the bridge at Nijmegen and was taken perhaps around 1954 - not sure of the year, but certainly between 1954-56. That's Dad with a tour bus in the background and the bridge behind that. I can't believe it would be somewhere else.

Dad's logs show what he was doing during the time when the Allied tropps were trying to take those bridges. Here are the pages from Dad's log listing September 16, 1944 and onwards including a rather odd insert of a couple of November entries in a Harvard.

I've also copied the next pages from October 2 to November 8, 1944.

The Story of Isidoor Mardaga and His Cousin

2010-02-10T21:14:00.001-04:00

It’s been a while since I posted anything so I have a bit of catching up to do. Since I last wrote, there have been a couple of most interesting developments. I am going to let our good friend Karel Baeten tell the story by quoting his emails recently.

February 10, 2010
Hello Anne

I went to see Isidoor Mardaga, although he didn’t know much about the plane [Dad’s Spitfire], he could confirm the crash site and was able to tell me that most of the plane was removed from the site just after the crash. However, the plane was broken in to a lot of smaller pieces and some of them made rather large holes in the ground. These parts were not removed and probably will still be there. The spot I took you to [up behind the Hotel Mardaga], was the correct one. Frans Van Horenbeek’s diary talks about a lot of pieces from the cockpit which he already found back in the 80s. He is still negotiating with the present owner to get these pieces back - parts of the instruments, etc. Yesterday one of my contacts pointed out a possible new witness of the crash. I will contact this person to get more details or at least a confirmation of the facts told by Isidoor and Frans.

Greetings
Karel

Allan Hillman and I asked Karel about Isidoor Mardaga and if he was related in some way to the hotel. Here’s his answer:

Isidoor Mardaga was a cousin of the owner of Hotel Mardaga. Isidoor also told me his cousin was part of the cometeline and travelled 28 times to England during the war to help pilots and airmen back to the free world. According to some stories told by elderly people in As, Isidoor’s cousin also burned down his own ballroom in 1943 just after the Germans had confiscated the place and had redecorated the interior. Isidoor remembers his cousin saying: “These damned Germans will not have a lot of fun in their new ballroom” just before he burned the place down. He seems to have been quite a guy.

Greetings
Karel

I asked Karel for clarification on the “cometeline” and I wanted to make sure I understood about Isidoor’s cousin, the owner of the Hotel Mardaga. Here’s his reply:

The cometeline was indeed the underground railroad. And yes, the cousin, owner of the hotel annex ballroom, did burn down his own hotel. The Germans didn’t know and allowed him to rebuild the place as it is now.

Karel

So the story continues.

More on the Gold Wings

2010-01-28T20:08:00.002-04:00

Here is another email from Andy in England about the parachute wings.

Hi again Anne,

With regards to the parachute pin…. whether it be the Gold Wings or the Caterpillar badge, the recipient or his superior would apply for them direct to the company. We would have then required verification (and still do) from his superior or an independent source (for example during the war, German POW camps documentation sent the corroborative information we required… this is to prevent badge collectors who make up stories to get these valuable mementos. Some of the WW2 correspondence we still retain to this day on the Caterpillar side and they make very interesting reading – unfortunately now not available to the public due to data protection laws …. We correspond only with the originator or family members as a side line to our day job).

With regard to what the pins are made from… the answer is ‘it depends’… during the war money was scarce and the pins used to be of a base metal covered in ‘gilt’. However, some pilots were sufficiently endowed that they requested gold metal pins and paid for those themselves….

Trust that this helps.

Andy

Andrew Cowley
Engineering Manager, Airborne Systems Limited

For what it's worth, I suspect Dad's wings are base metal gilded. I will, however, take the pin to my local friendly jeweller to confirm this. It really doesn't matter but it is good to know.

And here are those two wonderful parachute ads - thanks again Andy.

Those "Gold" Parachute Wings

2010-01-27T19:16:00.004-04:00

I think I have mentioned that I have a lapel pin which is in the shape of a person with a parachute and wings one either side. It has Dad's name on it and says something to the effect that GQ saved my life and the date. I wondered if there was any more information on this. It's not a Caterpillar Club pin - that seems to be different. So last year, I dug around and sent off an email. Not much happened so I thought I'd give it another whirl and look what came back today!

27 January, 2010
Hello Anne,

As you can see your email has gone through various staff members before it came to myself here in UK. I am the Engineering Manager at Airborne Systems and for my sins oversee the Gold Wings Club and the Caterpillar Club together with our MD’s PA. I have looked through our records and can indeed confirm that your father is on our database. Unfortunately, unlike our Irvin Caterpillar Club database, when the GQ company relocated to Wales all the old records were lost including the original application letters.

I can confirm from our database that your father’s Gold Wing number is indeed 392 and his descent is recorded as occurring on the 16th Jan 1945. His Service Number was 42279 (I am not sure, but I believe from this you may be able to get his service records from UK Military archives.) His descent was made ‘into’ Belgium and the parachute he used was a Pilot C2 Serial Number 166033. This would have been a ‘seat’ type parachute with a 24 foot diameter canopy – probably made of nylon and sewn with silk thread. Unfortunately, we do not retain any old parachute photos here specific to that model. What I have attached though for you perusal is a couple of GQ advertisements from the ‘Aeroplane’ magazine in Dec 1944 that pictorially shows the type of parachute he would have used…. I hope that these may be of interest to you.

I can only think that such a treasured memento, whilst relatively valuable from a collector’s perspective, must have great sentimental value to you… I apologise that I have no more information that I can provide.

Kind regards,
Andy C

Andrew Cowley
Engineering Manager Airborne Systems Limited
Email: Andy.Cowley@Airborne-Sys.com

Isn't that interesting. I've asked a couple more questions which I hope Andy will be able to answer and I'll post that when it arrives.

And as soon as I can, I'll post those GQ ads Andy mentioned.

Later.

Thoughts and Feelings

2010-01-24T08:30:00.004-04:00

I have had some “chats” with various family members over the past couple of days since our return from England and Belgium and think it might be a good idea to have a look at what this whole journey has meant to me.

My first thoughts have been about Dad and those thoughts are tinged with sadness, of course. I wish he was still here along with Mom. I think he would have been embarrassed by all the attention but I also think he would have thought the dedication of our new trans-Atlantic friends was amazing – as do I. I’d really like to thank those who have given so freely of their time and knowledge to help me find out about those last few weeks of my Dad’s time in WWII.

The first inquiry went from Cousin David Hall to Serge Bonge in Belgium in December 2008 who then put us onto Allan Hillman in Truro, England who then put us onto Guido van Roy in Belgium and Karel Baeten in Opglabbeek who put us onto William Engelen and the rest is history. All these people helped in different ways which allowed me to go with confidence to a place I’d never been. When I saw Karel at the Mardaga on the Friday evening, it was like greeting a close family member. And then there were all the other people I met in As and Opglabbeek who were so willing to share their stories and their family’s stories – especially all the folks at the wonderful display. Mayor Benny Spreeuwers and his council and staff were so welcoming and made it so special that I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to say anything meaningful at all.

When we were at the Mardaga and I looked out our room’s window at the back garden with the community woods beyond, I had a bit of a picture in my mind of Dad’s Spitfire coming down with the wing coming off, Dad getting out of the cockpit with one hand, Dad’s plane hitting the top of that little hill, and Dad landing and unhooking his G.Q. parachute number 392 and walking down the hill and around to the Mardaga’s front door on January 16, 1945 - right where we walked in for the first time on Friday, January 15, 2010. It was quite the feeling of relief that he made it, of sorrow that I didn’t know about it when he was still alive, sorrow that I didn’t talk to Mom about all this when she was still alive and elation that other people thought this event was important enough to bring memories forward from all those years ago in those Belgian communities.

Here is an excerpt of an email Karel sent which touches my heart – “Your visit also made a lot happen here. Almost every day I receive questions, stories, people give us tips, they are asking for help in searching missing elements in their own memories….

“Tonight we had a small gathering in our street, just to give best wishes for 2010 to all our neighbours. Almost everyone wanted to know the story of that Spitfire in the backyard of Hotel Mardaga.

“For me, the memories of the past weekend are still very strong also. I’m still a little bit overwhelmed by the thought of my meeting with the daughter of one of the fine men who came to our country to fight for freedom and I’m very grateful to have met you and your fine husband.”

When it comes right down to it, I think Dad was a young man who loved to fly. As soon as he could afford it, he took flying lessons in Ottawa. In 1938, people knew there was a possibility of war. Being a pilot in the air force was the most glamorous of the services then. With his parents still tied very firmly to England – they went back as often as they could afford it – it was not strange for him to go to London in early 1939 to try to join up there. We also have to remember the times – it was the right thing to do for a young man to go off and fight “for King and Country.” Like many, many other Commonwealth young people, Dad felt it was important to defend England. And, to be honest, it was also probably somewhat of an adventure as it was for so many at the beginning. While by the end of the war, I expect the feelings were much different. I don’t think he thought of himself as a hero. I think he loved to fly and believed he had a job to do in helping to win the war.

He was a very straight forward type of person – honest, loyal, conscientious, patriotic and probably pretty focussed. All those attributes would have made him an excellent pilot and eventually a good leader. He continued flying after the war off and on and I remember when we were in St. Hubert in the late 50s, he was studying books in the living room and it had to do with flying. I think he didn’t want to give it up. But the only non-jets being flown then were kind of like ferrying cargo around and I doubt that would have held much for him after flying those Spitfires. Years and years later, he and his friend Pete Bonnell in North Bay built and sold Lazair Ultralights – those little one-man planes that (at that time) didn’t require a pilot’s license. He got to fly those. And his iceboat was a really fast little number, I’m told. It seems to me, he also had a sports car at one time. I’m sure I’ll hear from one of the family about it.

So now, after this remarkable trip back in time, I am so pleased Bill and I were able to make this happen. My fondest wish is that people in Opglabbeek and As and surrounding communities continue to bring forward their stories from those to the historical society. They are part of the fabric of their world and it will be so important to keep the stories for generations to come.

My love goes out to all who went with me on this journey – it has brought me closer to my family history and to a whole new group of friends.

And this is Y.32 Ophoven today - a peaceful green field with a hard history that we won't forget.

More Pictures from the Mardaga

2010-01-24T07:37:00.004-04:00

I'm still going through all the pictures taken by Bill, me on the iPhone (those are the fuzzy ones, sorry), Guido van Roy, Roger Dreesen, the folks at Hangarflying.be. I hope I haven't forgotten anyone, if so, let me know.

Here are a few taken around the Mardaga that I really like. Some have nothing to do with the ceremony of the cognac but just because I think they are fun.

This was the view out our window to the back of the inn about where Dad would have walked down the hill. As I mentioned before, there were no trees on that little rise in 1945.

I'm not sure how well you can see this but it's a two-person elevator that goes to the second and third floors of the inn. It was terrific for someone who hates stairs and it was great for getting luggage up and down.

And how cool is this! You put your foot under the right colour of shoe shine polish, hit the button, hang on and you get your shoes shined. I remember that you used to be able to leave your shoes outside the door in the evening in hotels and the next morning, they would be all cleaned and spiffy.

And here's me in the back of the Mardaga near the patio blogging away.

Saturday, January 16 at the Society's Exhibition

2010-01-23T11:13:00.005-04:00

We left the town hall and went across the street to the Troempeelke community hall which had been set up to show some of the history of the Allies coming to liberate the area in 1944. I'm not sure what I was expecting but the display was amazing. The effort that had gone into gathering the artifacts and the documentation was huge.

This is what greeted us outside - four vehicles all decked out by the Old Military Vehicle Association of Opglabbeek.

A group photo outside the hall.

And here is one of the panels dedicated to Dad.

Here is William speaking to some of the crowd gathered. Note the picture just to his right on the panel - that's an old aerial photo of the airfield which Dad was trying to reach after being hit. And please note the Canadian flag which hung over the two display panels with information about Dad.

Here's me speaking to the people at the exhibit.

And then to open the exhibit, I copied William and rattled the PSP - pierced steel planking - with my foot that was used for the runway at Y.32 Ophoven airfield. Dad would have landed on that at least three times - January 1, 2 and 13 and taken off on it four times before he didn't land on it on January 16, 1945.

Saturday, January 16, 2010 - The Big Day

2010-01-23T10:01:00.006-04:00

I have spoken earlier about some of the events of the Saturday, so if I am repeating myself - mea culpa.

Karel picked us up after lunch and took us to the Opglabbeek Town Hall where a welcoming ceremony had been laid on.

There was a special page done up just for our visit - here I am signing it with Mayor Benny Spreeuwers looking on. Bill took this one.

And here is Mayor Spreeuwers welcoming us and saying how important it is to remember the history of the area. This picture was taken by Paul Van Caesbroeck of Hangarflying.be.

Here we all are listening to the mayor. L-R - Lambert Eygemans, Councillor Peter Schreurs, Karel Baeten, Anne Crossman, William Engelen and Bill Crossman. - Paul Van Caesbroeck of Hangarflying.be.

And then I was presented with this lovely gift by Peter Schreurs - Belgian chocolates and a strawberry liqueur. - Paul Van Caesbroeck of Hangarflying.be.

Pictures and Cutlines from the Eurostar

2010-01-23T09:49:00.004-04:00

Here are a couple of photos taken on the Eurostar on our way to Brussels.

The two of us in the window – a bit cute, I know, but it was a two-hour trip in and out of tunnels both under the English Channel and under roads and such.

And this is what the countryside looked like – definitely winter.

Pictures and Cutlines from London - II

2010-01-22T20:25:00.011-04:00

Here are the last pictures from London that haven't appeared elsewhere.

You might remember seeing Trafalgar Square elsewhere on this blog - this lion has snow on his nose.

This piece of ancient Roman wall is right across from the Tower of London. Imagine - about 2,000 years old.

And here is The Tower of London itself.

There are more London pictures but I think I'd better get us to Belgium on the remarkable Eurostar. It took 20 minutes to go under the English Channel! It was fast without feeling like we were flying. It was a bit cramped, kind of like being in today's planes with not too much leg room but you could get up and walk to the what could be called the Tuck Shop where you could buy sandwiches and snacks and drinks.

Here are a couple of shots -

St. Pancras Station where the Chunnel trains leave London.

Inside the wonderful station.

You-know-who trucking along to get in Car 2 to Brussels.

Pictures and Cutlines from London - I

2010-01-22T09:37:00.008-04:00

I have a lot of pictures that I'd like to get posted so that's what this one is all about - snapshots of our trip. I'm going to start with London this morning.

Our "basic" room at the Royal National - that's Bill resting after a long trip.

That is the back of Churchill with the Parliament buildings in the background.

Big Ben and friend.

This model of a V-2 rocket is on the side of a museum of London at War.

And this was The Slug and Lettuce where we had such a lovely lunch. It was just off Leicester Square.

More later.

Media Coverage in Belgium

2010-01-20T19:39:00.002-04:00

Here is some of the media coverage our events got in As. Karel and I did an interview with the local radio station and he tells me that it went national – how about that! Here is an interesting website which has lots of pictures and long cutlines - http://www.hangarflying.be/index.php?action=view_gallery&id=236&module=imagegallerymodule&src=%40random4b40cf7d79d5c. Try using Google Translate to get the gist of what’s being said.

This article was in the Sunday paper.

And the next one was in the Monday edition. Between the rather silly expression on my face and the babe on the right hand side, this is quite the front page!

And then this is the article inside.

I think I may be getting a file of the radio interview and I’ll post that when it arrives.

More later as I think of it.

Wednesday, January 20/10 - Back in Nova Scotia

2010-01-20T18:50:00.004-04:00

Here we are back home in Nova Scotia after our whirlwind trip full of adventure, new friends and many emotions. I’ll pick up where I left off before we went to Karel and Hilde’s for coffee. William joined us and we had a great talk about the historical society’s work, the memories that are still around 65 years later and how strong the feelings still, how the Saturday events went and how time just flew by.

We had some lovely pastries and very good coffee and great conversation. I learned that the display was thought up and mounted in about three weeks – amazing. I know what it takes to get something of that magnitude up and running and it was terrific. The general thinking is that there were about 200 people there. I wish I had been able to go back and talk to more of them.

Karel says that we will definitely hear more about the plane as soon as weather permits. The thinking is that there was only one Spitfire crash near Y.32 and that was Dad’s. He gave me a present from one of the visitors to the exhibit – an oxygen nozzle from a Spitfire - see above. Frans Van Horenbeek is a collector of WWII memorabilia and this item is from another Spitfire.

We had dinner at a lovely restaurant in Opglabbeek recommended by Karel, back to the Mardaga, early to bed and early to rise.

Thank all the gods one more time for the Garmin GPS. She got us to the Brussels Midi station in good time in spite of the traffic. It took a while to find the Parking sign (around back) and then the very small “Rental Car” sign. Once in the Parkade, we zigged when we should have zagged and ended up having to go out and then back in again. Gave the car back to the Europcar folks and we headed for the train. We were doing just fine for time when we were asked for our passports. I got out our tickets and my passport and then… Bill spent the next 10 or 15 minutes going through his briefcase, my big purse, my suitcase and his until finally, he found it in his suit jacket. By this time, things were a bit tense. Thanks to the lovely young lady at Customs who probably sees panic-stricken old folks fumbling around looking for things so they can get into her country – total patience and kindness!

Then on to the train and off to London’s St. Pancras station where we got a taxi (expensive, I know but worth every penny) to Heathrow Terminal 5 to stay at the Sofitel. It is a new hotel and is very, very nice. We had a lovely dinner in a posh restaurant – there are pix – and then off to our swanky room.

This is my lobster bisque. I love the bowl! Those are Bill's hands working on the curried mussels.

Breakfast came with the room and we had a good one downstairs. Another taxi to Terminal 3 – thank goodness – and then hanging around Heathrow for the flight which was on time and actually arrived half an hour early into Halifax. And then the two hour drive home to pick up Sally the dog who apparently had a great time with the other dogs at the kennel.

I’ve gone back and inserted some of the pictures which I was unable to post because of time. So check out some of the earlier post. The next post will include the media coverage we received.

Sunday, January 17/10 at the Mardaga

2010-01-17T08:49:00.000-04:00

We just got back from a tour around the area with Karel. Again, it was very special. We saw the building where Dad would have lived for those two and a half weeks in early 1945 about 1 km from the airfield. There is a beautiful church beside it now.

We drove to both ends of Y.32 Ophoven airfield – where it was - and looked down the area where the runway was. It is a grassy field right now. We saw how the runway was built by the US Corps of Engineers yesterday at the display. They put down straw, then reinforced steel mesh and then PSP – perforated steel plate (?) – there is a picture which I will post later which has my foot on one piece which the local farmer still uses and who lent it to the display. We also saw the three big coal slag heaps which the pilots would have used as orientation for the airfield. The weather was really bad at that time – rainy, snowy, windy, low ceiling - so they needed all the help they could get.

We saw a huge depression in a corn field not far from the airfield buildings where a V-2 rocket hit and exploded. Karel said the Americans called this “Bomb Alley” because the rockets went right over here on their way west to destruction.

And we saw where the Russian POWs were kept to work for the Germans in the coal mines during their four year occupation here.

All the sand and gravel used for the roads into the airstrip and the strip itself was excavated from quarries in As. Karel said it took a week of steady trucks on the road to haul it all there.

Karel also showed us a beautiful building which used to be the headquarters for the coal mines here – there were three, I think. The building is being renovated and there is some talk of it going to be part of the Belgian Aviation Museum – how wonderful for Karel and his colleagues here if that happens. This was a very important coal mining area up until about 1980.

And then we came back to the community forest behind the Mardaga where it is believed Dad’s Spitfire went down. Bill and Karel walked a short way into the woods, took a picture (see above) and then we drove around the corner to the Mardaga. It wasn’t very far at all and it was downhill. There were no trees there at the time so it was at the top of that small rise. The plane probably hit the ground first and then Dad would have landed, possibly a bit closer to the hotel with his parachute. We can see out our window into the woods and I can imagine Dad walking this way, then around the corner of the building to the front and into the café.

Karel talked yesterday to someone who drove behind the truck that took Dad to the hospital from the Mardaga and he will send us more information as he gets it.

We are having coffee with Karel and Hilde this afternoon and then we will venture out on our own for an early supper. It will be early to bed and then early to rise tomorrow to head to Brussels for the train.

Once again, I will post more pictures as they come in from various sources later in the week and I am more in control of the technology.

Saturday Evening, January 16/10 at the Mardaga

2010-01-16T13:18:00.001-04:00

We are back here at the Mardaga after an amazing day. I must say I am running out of adjectives. Karel and his son Jan picked us up and took us to Opglabbeek (beek meaning brook) City Hall where we were met by the mayor and some of the council and some members of the local historical association including William Engelen who was another major driver of the events today. There were a few reporters as well. A lovely reception with some wine and juice and canapés followed in the council office. The mayor took me on a bit of a tour showing off the local art which is everywhere in the building – paintings and sculptures. They had a special page for me in the guest book which everyone signed with me at the top. The mayor gave a speech welcoming us and thanked us for coming. Everyone was so welcoming. I gave a small response thanking them for coming and making me feel so welcome. And especially honouring my father. I was presented with a lovely gift of chocolates and a strawberry drink which I will try when we get home. We have lots of bubble wrap from the poster now.

We then went over to a hall next to a grand church – a very old grand church. There was an amazing display of US Army vehicles outside the hall and there were people in US Army uniforms. There was an air raid siren which ushered us into the hall! The place was jammed! Bill and I figure there were about 150 people there – many of them elderly who still remembered the war and what happened. They brought their pictures and their books as well and wanted to tell people about it. I went around the room shaking hands and thanking everyone. I had my hand kissed twice! The display was marvellous. William spoke and the mayor spoke and I spoke and I said (according to Bill) thanks for being so welcoming to Dad and the other pilots who were very far away from home 65 years ago.

In truth, 130 Squadron was only there from December 31, 1944 to January 27, 1945. Dad only flew four times because the weather was so awful then – snow and wind. The wind actually blew some of the supply tents down at Y.32 Ophoven airfield. And so more details have become clear, to me at least.

And now to the plane! A man named Frans says he knows where Dad’s plane crashed. All that can be seen right now is a slight depression in the field near the woods not far from the Mardaga. However, Karel believes that work might be done to see what’s under there. So we’ll have to wait until the countryside improves before any digging goes on. But he says he’s like a pit bull once he has something in his teeth! I met Frans and he was one of the fellows who kissed my hand – I’m charmed! He is also going to give me a small piece of a plane tomorrow and I’ll have more about that then.

I had to be almost dragged away to get back to the Mardaga for the reporters and the presentation of the poster to the hotel owners. There will be lots of pictures later this week but above is one of Ludo Geurden of the Mardaga and me holding the plaque up on the wall in the lobby where he says it will be hanging. And that's Bill, of course, on the right. That’s the dining room just behind Ludo and the stairs going up behind me – a place of prominence indeed!

And so our host Ludo brought Bill and me each a snifter of Hennessy Cognac and we raised a toast to the hotel and to Dad. We raised our glasses on behalf of John and David Hall as well as the rest of my family.

Saturday Noon, January 16/10 at the Mardaga

2010-01-16T07:36:00.001-04:00

Really, really big news! Karel says they have found Dad's Spitfire!

About an hour ago, a friend said there is an indentation in the ground where a plane crashed. I may not have this story exactly right but will correct as I get more. Karel has also located a man who has some pieces from the plane. He will try to get them and send them to us. There was only one Spitfire that crashed here and that would have been Dad's. Karel says it's hard to get to right now but he's looking into "things" - so we'll see.

We had a great time with Roger Dreesen of the newspaper "Het Beland Van Limburg" who took pictures for tomorrow's paper and then there will be an article in Monday's paper as well.

More later.

Saturday Morning, January 16/10 at the Mardaga

2010-01-16T05:39:00.002-04:00

Bill at breakfast.

We had a short chat with our friend Karel (he says we can call him Karl) in the lobby of this lovely little hotel last evening. He brought us up to date on the events for later today. Around 11, a journalist for the local paper is coming to take pictures in the room where the “ceremony” is taking place so the item can go in Sunday’s paper. We’ll have lunch somewhere and then Karel is picking us up around 1:15 pm and taking us to the Opglabbeek Town Hall for the Mayor’s reception. Very close by is the exhibit which Karel has put together on Y.32 Ophoven airfield. I brought a CD with as many pictures and documents that I had scanned that I thought he might be interested in. He might be able to use some for the exhibit. Then we’ll go on a tour to see where the airfield was. After that we’ll come back to the Mardaga for a little ceremony presenting our poster to the hotel in thanks for the hospitality shown to Dad when he walked in the door with an injured right arm after parachuting out of his disintegrating Spitfire on January 16, 1945. I believe the owner, Ludo Geurden will be serving cognac this afternoon and there will be some journalists here. We are going to have dinner here with Karel and his wife this evening.

The hotel is lovely and the dining room is first class. We are in a suite with two rooms plus bathroom. Dinner last evening was amazing. I had sautéed foie gras with pears in Saba (? but delicious) sauce and Bill had a crab salad. Then there was minced veal and a small cream soup. Beautiful bread kept coming. Bill had Sole Meuniere and I had Hare – both were marvellous. This hotel has had 3 Michelin stars in the past and Ludo says they are working towards regaining that honour. I would say they are well on their way. The presentation of all the dishes was beautiful and the service was perfect. I overheard a lady in the dining room last evening talking about what was happening here today. It was quite the feeling.

The Mardaga burned down in 1943 and was rebuilt the same year so this hotel we are in today is the one that Dad would have been in. But I think things have been spruced up considerably since 1945. There are beautiful grounds behind which we just had a glimpse of when we got here yesterday.

In the meantime, I am here in the middle of the night thinking about what I will say at the exhibit opening and the Mardaga ceremony. It will be brief but I want to say the right thing. Karel says there will be some older people there who remember what happened during those days. The occupation was for four years here and apparently, quite brutal. When the Allied Forces came here in late 1944, they were extremely well received! Karel was telling us last evening that the local people tried to learn as much English as they could as fast as they could so they could welcome the English speaking liberators.

When our family came to Echternach in Luxembourg in 1953, we had never seen or been exposed to the kind of damage we saw in that in little town. It was only 8 years after the war and rubble was still being cleared away. It was a real shock for us from Canada. I knew some of the lingering feelings amongst my Luxembourgish friends about what had happened too. Coming here to As is bringing some of those memories back and while I don’t think that Dad would have wanted us to dwell on the past, I think it’s important to remember where we came from and how we are what we are today.

So I will report on this day that we have been talking about for over a year later on. I know that there are those with us here in spirit and I will feel your presence as this day proceeds.

Later.

Friday Evening, January 15/10 in As

2010-01-15T13:19:00.002-04:00

We're here! We made it! Thank all the gods for GPS! The train was super but we had to sit backwards. We'll sit forwards going back. It was just a bit hard to see what was going on outside. The station in Brussels was manageable and the guy at Europcar gave us an upgrade to a Mercedes - imagine we're driving around Belgium in a Mercedes! The hotel is lovely - we have a suite. We just met Karel and made arrangments for tomorrow. More later because we're going down to dinner in the lovely dining room here.

Friday Morning, January 15/10 in London

2010-01-15T03:27:00.001-04:00

This is a quick note about an interview Karel did for regional television last Monday. He was able to get the clip and it is posted here - http://www.vimeo.com/8727534. While I haven't got much of a clue about what's being said, it is so great that he did this. I have learned that the interviewer was Miss Belgium Beauty in 2005. Apparently, she does a good job on TV. We're off to Belgium this morning. More later.

Thursday, January 14/10 in London

2010-01-14T14:36:00.001-04:00

This hotel was jammed with people overnight – they were stuck because it snowed hard outside the city and Heathrow was cancelling overseas flights. When we came down this morning to have breakfast and send the posts from the lobby – the place was hopping! No snow today, but it was raining – never mind. It looks like things have cleared up out at Heathrow this afternoon.

As you could see, I did get those two posts done this morning plus cleared up some emails. We had breakfast – the continental kind with no protein is included with the room – I had protein, feeling I needed my strength!

We got the red double-decker again and struck up a “conversation” with a Portuguese-speaking family from Brazil who were visiting London for the first time. What a great group! They wanted to go to Buckingham Palace to see the changing of the guard. I said I wasn’t sure if it happened when it was raining but that didn’t matter – off they went at the right stop. We continued on to Harrods.

An amazing place! It’s beautiful outside and inside it is spectacular. Expensive as all get out – I expected that. I did buy some souvenirs. Bill saw the Beretta guns and said he didn’t think he’d buy a new over and under shotgun for £7,000 “and change”. We looked at the bulletproof garb as well – one nice black, very soft on the outside, leather jacket with (probably Kevlar) bulletproof lining for £5,000. It weighed a ton but you would be very stylish as the bullets were whipping around your head! We had lunch at Ca’puccino’s which was lovely – excellent sandwich with salad. We went to the pet section thinking we might buy Sally a collar or something. Holy cow, £50 was the cheapest! And the variety was astounding – with jewels (real!), top leathers, up to £200 at least. Bill says he thinks some of the collars were more than the cost of a registered purebred dog.

Some quick observations – there were some very wealthy looking young people in there looking some very expensive items. The main central escalator is exquisite – Art Deco/Art Nouveau (I can’t really remember which is which) with an Egyptian theme – this is my favourite style. People were very, very friendly and courteous. I’m big on asking questions and asking for directions and everyone has been just wonderful – most polite and very helpful. The streets are very clean and I haven’t seen one panhandler. We saw someone walked a positive herd of Labs being walked – I’m sure I counted 5, one yellow and four black. The buildings are just beautiful. There are all kinds of round blue plaques on buildings which note some artist/writer/poet/composer/actor/thinker lived there. Over the centuries, London has been a hub for great thinkers and artists – that was wonderful to see.

I ran out of steam and came back to the hotel for a zzzz and Bill headed out to get info on our train ride tomorrow. The Eurostar is back on schedule, we can take a taxi from here and it’s not far, and we go through customs on this side. On the way back, we’re going to take the underground to Heathrow and a shuttle bus to our hotel – Sofitel - which is very close by.

One thing I meant to mention yesterday was, we went past Victoria Station which is where Mom, Rob, Louise, Don and I went to from Chester in 1953 on our way to Luxembourg. Dad was already over there and had found us a place to live in Echternach. We stayed overnight at the hotel next door (maybe the Victoria Hotel?) and caught the boat train to Dover (?) and went on the ferry to Oostende where we had to wait quite a long time before the train took us to Luxembourg City. Mom must have been exhausted! It was fun to see that. I doubt my brothers and sister remember that trip but…

So we’re going to try to make an early night of it tonight so we’ll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning for the Chunnel trip. To wind up our stay here, we’re going to a pub just down the road from this hotel – just to say we did it. I may even have a beer! While this has been much too short a time in a magnificent city – it has been terrific and I’m so glad we did this.

Wednesday, January 13/10 in London

2010-01-14T05:00:00.002-04:00

We had breakfast and then got on The Original Tour bus (red double-decker and we were on the top covered in) here at the hotel and spent a wonderful, amazing time touring around London. We bought the full meal deal from Russell Square past the British Museum (marvellous building) to Trafalgar Square and Nelson’s Column to Pall Mall to St. James Palace past the The Ritz down Piccadilly past the Hard Rock Café past Hyde Park and Speaker’s Corner and Tyburn and the Marble Arch. Deep breath…

We did go very close to Buckingham Palace on the bus but you really have to get off and walk a bit and then catch the next bus about 15 minutes later and continue on. And then Westminster Abbey and the tower of Big Ben (can you hear me singing?) and the amazing Houses of Parliament. Down to the Lambeth Bridge and back up to the Westminster Bridge and back to Trafalgar Square and along the Strand to Fleet Street (could hear those reporters scratching out a living) and then the wonderful St. Paul’s Cathedral with a statue of Queen Anne (MOI) in front.

The patter that went along with this part of the tour amazed me – Poor Queen Anne --- Left in the lurch; Face to the tavern; Back to the church. I didn’t get it exactly but may tomorrow when we head out again. The lady of the tour bus patter said Queen Anne drank excessively! Just think what that means for me for this year! My birthday party on February 6 at the Annapolis Royal Golf and Country Club could be fairly riotous!

We then went past The Monument which has a story about it and the Great Fire of London in 1666. Across London Bridge and along to Tower Bridge and past the Tower of London – an amazing fortress. By this time we getting a bit overloaded, I must say. We saw a Roman wall that been excavated and believed to have been built in 300-400 AD. Then across Southwark Bridge and we had a glimpse of The Globe Theatre reconstructed. Along then to Blackfriars Bridge and along the Victoria Embankment and back to Trafalgar Square.

And somewhere in there we passed the Air Force Church where the shrapnel marks on the walls have been left as a reminder of WWII. That quite took us back.

And the other place which stopped us both cold and brought tears to my eyes (literally) was the monument to the Animals in War - here's a link to information on this one, thanks to daughter Holly - www.animalsinwar.org.uk. I think there must be something online about it but it was so poignant. I’d like to know more about that one. Speaking of animals, it was wonderful to see the two mounted horses at the Horse Guards’ Parade.

We got off that bus and as it was about 3 pm, we looked for lunch. And ended up at The Slug and Lettuce, I kid you not. It was just great – food was super and the service was terrific. Got a little lost finding our bus stop but we actually asked and found it. Back here pretty tired but satisfied after a long day.

Bill says he was very impressed with all the well-established business whose names we knew and how tightly packed in they were in the commercial areas. I just loved the architecture – most of it. The variety of languages here is also noteworthy – there were languages from around the world. London has a huge number of parks and trees along the roads. Bill was very impressed by the driving skills required to get around the narrow streets.

I tried to send yesterday’s post in the lobby again but Windows insisted on doing a very long update. However, we ended up sitting with a really nice couple from Brussels who were trying to get to Miami to catch the Queen Victoria and go on a 3-month cruise from the Caribbean around to Fiji and Australia and then back up to Southampton. They were really nice and we had a good chat.

So here we are, Bill’s snoozing and I’m pounding away to hopefully get two posts done tomorrow morning before we hit London again. We’ll have to be a bit more selective. Although this trip has been primarily about celebrating Dad’s successful end to his war, I am delighted to be here and seeing so much that is familiar and new. The names are so familiar both from novels and history and they are re-used in our own country. The culture is where we came from – both of us. Bill even said if we were ever to come back, it would be at a different time of year and we’d go to Devon where our ancestors came from.

More later.

Tuesday, January 12/10 in London

2010-01-14T04:59:00.002-04:00

Finally!

After much to-ing and fro-ing, here are the travel notes from yesterday and today. Hopefully, they are at least chronological if not logical!

We had dinner with Maggie and Brian at Montana’s and bought books for the trip at the airport. Bill had to take off his boots for security and I sailed through after the usual patdown for my “new” hips. Having a sister-in-law who works for Air Canada is always a bonus, especially since she’s one of my best friends. She told us that the flight was oversold to London and there was a chance we could get to sit in executive class – you know, those neat pods at the front of the plane – not. Oh well, we didn’t really expect it so… But they look soooo comfortable. We had a two-year-old next to us who absolutely did not want to be belted in and screamed blue murder for quite some time until he fell asleep utterly exhausted along with his young mother and father who were totally beside themselves. Same thing happened at the end of the trip. We did not have to pay for anything, meagre lunch, etc. Oh yes, the bottled water on Air Canada from the land of oodles and oodles of fresh water was from Tennessee, imagine! The flight was long and smooth and we saw the sunrise when we were over Ireland. Neither of us slept a wink the whole time although we did try.

The hike from the plane to the baggage was loooooooong. We whistled through customs and got to the baggage and then kind of got a bit lost. The next time, we’ll know what we’re doing but we circled around until we finally found our guy with our name on it who was going to take us to the hotel. We got in a Renault car - very nice. What a trip into London! As we went along, the driver (from Madeira, my dear!) told us all the street names and places which I’ve read about for years. We were both pretty zonked so didn’t take everything. The traffic is horrendous! Bumper to bumper and the space between vehicles was inches. It took about an hour to get to the Royal National Hotel in Bloomsbury. We went past Canada House – and there’s a picture of Dad in London in 1939 with some buddies waiting to be allowed to join the RAF – I’ll post it later. All the mail about being accepted was addressed to Canada House.

Trafalgar lions in the snow 71 years later - taken from the bus, obviously.

The hotel is very “basic” – no connectivity in the room, only in the lobby. So I sat in the lobby yesterday evening and checked emails on battery. Then we found that the converter we bought in Annapolis wouldn’t take three prongs. We got that fixed this morning though. Our plumbing is raised just like the North so the pipes don’t freeze and were added later. It was part of the list of hotels listed with the Air Canada package – I should have gone up a notch. But it’s fine.

We had supper here – nothing fancy buffet style but it cost 50-pounds. There are vending machines in the lobby for drinks, Ben and \jerry’s ice cream and a place to charge your “device” like an iPhone.

I think we may be OK in the sleep department. We had a 4-hour nap yesterday afternoon and then went to bed around 9:30 last night. We got up at 9 and had our included (sort of) breakfast at the same buffet place this morning.

So now we’re off to one of those “hop on, hop off” all-inclusive bus tours. Those who know me well, know that the hopping part does not apply here!

Talk to you later. – 1100 hours Wednesday in London.

Sunday before the Trip

2010-01-10T20:48:00.000-04:00

We spent the day making sure we have everything that we need. You’d think we were going to the moon or something! And then I got thinking about all the trips I’ve done from Nova Scotia to Inuvik, Nova Scotia to Victoria, and so on. I realize that it takes as long to go from Halifax to Calgary as it does from Halifax to London. While there is a 3 hour time difference between Nova Scotia and Alberta, there is a 4 hour difference between Nova Scotia and England. And so we now have everything one would ever want on one of those grand Victorian treks into the unknown. I’m taking some of Dad’s memorabilia with us to ‘show and tell’ when we get to As.

I spent a fair amount of time this aft getting Google maps for the drive from Brussels – the Eurostar train station, where we pick up the rental car – to As. I asked for a GPS so we’ll have to figure out how to make it work. Having never used one of these gizmos before, I figured it would be good to have a real road map complete with directions just in case. Getting out of Brussels is probably the trickiest part for us.

Sally the dog (7 month old black Lab) goes off to the local kennel after lunch. We will take off for Halifax around 3 tomorrow afternoon – it takes 2 hours to get to Dartmouth (on the other side of the harbour from Halifax) - have dinner with Bill’s sister Maggie and her husband Brian (they live in Dartmouth) and then head out early for our flight from the Halifax Stanfield International Airport. We’re giving ourselves about three hours lead time to get checked in, go through security and customs and do it in a relaxed fashion.

I’ll start another post when we get tucked in on the plane at midnight.

In the meantime, here’s one of my favourite pictures of Dad – what a dashing guy he was!

Saturday before the Trip

2010-01-09T21:09:00.000-04:00

I spent a fair amount of time checking to see about our flight on Monday and the Eurostar problems this morning. And Bill and I watched the problems with weather that are going on in Europe right now. We talked about our insurance, what’s the worst that could happen, and I looked at Harrods online to calm me down!

I’ll check Air Canada tomorrow and Monday to make sure they are still flying to London. We will have a weather forecast by Monday which should go as far ahead as Friday. Hopefully, the cold and snow will have abated somewhat by then and the trains will be back on schedule.

I’ve been emailing back and forth with Karel and Allan today as well.

Who knew it was going to be the worst winter in 30 years just exactly when we need to be in Belgium!

The actual date is 1944 on this picture - looks just awful!

Trip to Europe Itinerary

2010-01-08T20:50:00.001-04:00

Here are the plans for our trip to freezing England and Belgium! We will be bringing our Canadian winter clothing, for sure.

Halifax to London – Monday/Tuesday, January 11/12
London – Tuesday to Friday, January 15
London to Brussels – Friday, January 15 - Eurostar (we are hoping and praying mightily!)
Brussels to As – Friday, January 15 (car rental)
Mardaga Hotel – Friday to Monday, January 18
As to Brussels – Monday, January 18 (car rental)
Brussels to London - Monday, January 18 (we continue to hope and pray mightily!)
London to Halifax – Tuesday, January 19

We hope to do some sight-seeing in London on buses and so on. I want to go to the Imperial War Museum and Harrods and Bill would like to see the Imperial War Museum and the Tate Gallery. On January 16th, the anniversary of Dad’s successful parachute jump from his disintegrating Spitfire, the wonderful people in Opglabbeek, which is where the WWII airfield Y.32 Ophoven was, have organized a reception by the mayor at the town hall, the opening of an exposition on the airfield and the airmen who served there and a tour of the place where the airfield used to be. We also hope to raise a glass to Dad and all the airmen who helped end WWII. Thanks so much to our new Belgian friend Karel Baeten.

I do hope to be able to post a journal of our time overseas with the blog and I hope you will find it interesting as well.

This is a wonderful print that my mother had. I am still trying to find out more about it. The printing on the bottom says "No. 369 B & M Wisbech "GENTLEMEN, THE ROYAL AIR FORCE!" D.L. Mays" All I've been able to deduce is that "B & M" may be either the printer or the distributor and that Wisbech is a town. D.L. Mays was an illustrator. And that's it. I have it hanging in my living room and it still intrigues and makes me smile (August 2011).

It has an interesting bit of writing that goes with it -

18th CENTURY PROPHECY

The time will come when thou shalt lift thine eyes
To watch a long-drawn battle in the skies,
While aged peasants, too amazed for words,
Stare at the flying fleet of wondrous birds,
England, so long the mistress of the sea,
Where winds and waves confess her sovereignty,
Her ancient triumphs yet on high shall bear,
And reign, the sovereign of the conquered air.

(Translated from Gray’s “Luna Habitatalis”, Cambridge, 1737)

And this is Dad in 1938 at the Ottawa Flying Club where he first learned how to fly.

Preparation Time

2010-01-03T09:22:00.000-04:00

This is the cover of Dad's second log book.

This is the left hand page of his last entry from WWII. I hope to get better images but thought it would be good to post them asap.

And this is the right hand page of his last entry from WWII.

And so we get ready for our trip to England and Belgium. Here’s how I think I will keep a record of the trip. I hope to be able to post a daily journal with pictures as we go along. I’m taking the laptop, the iPhone, the Bell TurboStick, the camera, the converter, the chargers and the kitchen sink! I figure that should do it.

I would like, once again, to thank our good friend Allan Hillman of Truro, Cornwall, England for his great support and assistance in finding out all kinds of information that we never knew. He has sent us so many documents and places to find other documents that I’m hard pressed to remember them all. He has become a friend to our whole family and I am just sorry that he won’t be able to accompany Bill and me to As for that glass of cognac. He will certainly be there in spirit, I know. And I also know that my brothers and sister, my cousins David and John and my cousins Barbara and Janet will be there in spirit. I am really looking forward to meeting our other new friend in As, Karel. As you know Allan was responsible for putting us together – he’s quite the matchmaker!

In anticipation, I thought I should post Dad's record and a couple of documents that I have which people might find interesting.

Dad's Record
TRIPE, S/L Phillip Valentine King (42279) - Distinguished Flying Cross - No.129 Squadron - awarded as per London Gazette dated 25 January 1944. Born in Ottawa, 24 July 1918; educated at Lisgar Collegiate.

“Award promulgated in the London Gazette dated 25th January, 1944.
“Distinguished Flying Cross

“Acting Squadron Leader Phillip [sic] Valentine King TRIPE (42279) Reserve of Air Force Officers, No. 129 Squadron. This officer has led his flight and squadron during an extended tour of operational duty and has proved himself an extremely capable leader. During his operational career, he has personally destroyed 2 enemy aircraft and shared in the destruction of a number of others. On 17th August, 1943, he was chiefly responsible for the destruction by his Wing of 5 enemy aircraft. His outstanding ability is reflected in the fighting efficiency of his squadron.”

- Pupil pilot, RAF, 1 May to 23 June 1939.
- Appointed Acting Pilot Officer on Probation, RAF, 24 June 1939;
- confirmed as Flying Officer, 16 December 1940;
- as Flight Lieutenant, 16 December 1941;
- as Squadron Leader in 1943;
- at No.10 FTS under training to 8 June 1940;
- to No.7 Bombing and Gunnery School, 8 June 1940 (Flight Commander of Whitley Flight);
- to No.56 OTU, 14 April 1942;
- to No.411 Squadron, June 1942;
- to No.65 Squadron, December 1942;
- to No.222 Squadron, February 1943;
- to No.129 Squadron, September 1943;
- to No.57 OTU (instructing), November 1943;
- to No.2 Tactical Exercise Unit (Hurricanes), February 1944;
- to No.130 Squadron, 6 June 1944. Commanding as of 11 September 1944 until 16 January 1945).
- Transferred to RCAF, 22 December 1944 (C89529). Remained in post war force (numbers 20466 and 431-171-024);

The following victories credited to him are in Combat Cards held by Directorate of History and Heritage, Canadian Forces Headquarters: 22 June 1943, one FW.190 damaged; 9 July 1943, one FW.190 probably destroyed; 17 August 1943, two Bf.109Gs destroyed north of Huls; 18 August 1943, ½ Bf.109 destroyed (shared with an RAF pilot); 31 August 1943, one FW.190 probably destroyed; 27 September 1943, one Bf.109 damaged; 22 October 1943, one Bf.109 damaged. AFRO 644/44 dated 24 March 1944 (report of his DFC described him as a Canadian in the RAF.
Died 31 December 1982 at Trout Lake, North Bay (drowned following iceboating accident). Air Ministry Bulletin 12703/AL.741 refers.

NOTE: His application for Operational Wing, dated 12 June 1945, stated that he had flown with Nos. 411, 65, 222 and 129 Squadrons, June 1942 to November 1943 (248 operational hours) but does not clearly indicate when he went from one unit to another.

However, leave records indicate he was with No.411 Squadron from at least 11 August 1942 until 26 December 1942; he took leave while with No.222 Squadron in May 1943, and while with No.129 Squadron in October 1943.

His second tour, June 1944 to January 1945, was with No.130 Squadron (96 hours). The document then lists his sorties by date, duty and time flown. The first sortie given is 17 August 1942 (Fighter Sweep, Bereke-sur-Mer and Wamport, one hour 15 minutes) and the last is 20 November 1943. The total number of sorties is 148 including four on 19 August 1942 ("Fighter Umbrella for Dieppe Raid: 1.45" - "Close Escort Two Bostons laying smoke screen Dieppe, 1.40" - "Fighter Sweep Protection, Boats returning from Dieppe, 1.30" and a repeat of the previous, 1.30).

There is a long break between 6 December 1942 and 5 April 1943 followed by intense operations including three trips on each of the following days: 24 June 1943, 4 July 1943, 22 August 1943, 6 September 1943, 8 September 1943, 9 September 1943, 18 October 1943. The second tour sorties run from 8 June 1944 to 16 January 1945 (56 sorties).

Form dated 15 January 1953 gives times as follows:
- Tiger Moth, 60
- Anson, 60
- Avro Cadet, 2
- Whitley, 390
- Magister, 10
- Blenheim, 10
- Lysander 16
- Defiant, 15
- Battle, 20
- Hurricane, 50
- Master, 4
- Spitfire, 608
- Harvard, 29
- C-45, 9.

Telegram from Dad to Mom in Chester about his DFC.

Dad's service with the RCAF. I sent for this when we lived in Inuvik so I could join the Royal Canadian Legion there. I did hear from Mom at some point that Dad was not a big fan but the Legion was the place to go in Inuvik for drinkies.

Letter to My Dad IX

2009-12-28T15:30:00.000-04:00

December 28, 2009

This past summer cousin David was complaining about getting the flu and not feeling up to scratch. He said he was walking about 5 miles a day (I think that’s what he said) around a tobacco plantation and other than drinking beer with other ex-pats and regaling them about our search, he looked after him self pretty well. Then when the flu didn’t go away, he went to the doctor and, long story short, he’s been diagnosed with leukemia. What a shock! So he made the trip home with his journals and went straight into hospital in Ottawa where he is right now. He is getting chemo treatments and the doctors do say he may be able to fight this one. We’ll see.

And what have we learned throughout this history research? We have learned that you were a terrific pilot, a great instructor, a very capable leader and that you were very brave, as most were who fought in that war. The story of your parachuting out of your Spitfire with five pieces of shrapnel in your arm as the plane was breaking up around you is amazing. I’m quite sure you would say something to the effect that “Well, that’s what you had to do.” I do know that you were happy to be back in Ottawa in February 1945. I can see the delight on all your faces in that picture in the Ottawa Evening Citizen with Grandma, Grandpa and Auntie Marian. They must have been so relieved.

Too bad it took another 4 months for Mom and I to get home. Poor Mom! I never did ask her how the trip went for her because, of course, she was pregnant with Rob who was born that September. Imagine, sailing home with all kinds of troops, many wounded, with me at almost 5. I know what your granddaughters were like when they were that age and I remember Mom telling me that she hoped I got a child like me (payback time!) and I did! And I said the same thing to Krista and she did too.

So the Big Trip is now for just Bill and me. I am honoured to be able to do this in your memory, Dad. In some ways, I hope this journey will help to make up for all the disruption I caused for the family when I was growing up. I know I was a hard kid to talk to. I always weighed the punishment and the crime and usually opted to do the crime and take the punishment.

I have wondered if you ever went back to the Mardaga Hotel when we were in Luxembourg in the 1950s. I know you and Mom went to Holland on a vacation and I’m pretty sure you drove and would have had to go pretty close to Asch along the way. I’ll check the hotel registers to see if you actually stayed there. That would be pretty amazing.

And just so you know, I always loved you very much.

Anne

PS – I thought you’d like to see us all now. This picture was taken in November in Toronto.

Letter to My Dad VIII

2009-12-28T15:21:00.000-04:00

December 28, 2009

Now we get to the summer of 2008. Cousin David Hall went to Ottawa from Bangkok (where he was living) to visit Cousin John Hall. I had given John a copy of the “book” I had put together with your log books and Mom’s diaries intermingled. Apparently, this just caught David big time. He got in touch and we started a long correspondence amongst the three of us about what actually happened to you from 1938 to 1945 during the war years. As David got enthusiastic, he would fire me up and I’d learn something and then John would find something and we’d all go in bursts like that for a full year. In the process I think it was David who found Allan Hillman, an RAF aficionado in Truro, Cornwall. Allan steered us through the ORBs and the terminology and the history of the different squadrons you were in and helped us with some of our speculations. He has become a very dear internet friend to us all. And you would have loved the hunt!

And then the idea came along to go to Asch and celebrate your safe landing within 300 yards of the Mardaga. Well, that was it! The three of us were going to meet in London, John and I from here and David from Bangkok. We would visit the Imperial War Museum and all kinds of other museums and then go to Brussels on the Eurostar, drive to Asch and… And then Allan found the Mardaga Inn online! And it still exists! What a beautiful place it has become since you were there in the winter of 1944-45.

So plans change, right? John wasn’t too sure we were actually going to make the trip. He thought maybe we were just saying “What if we…”. So he made other money plans. And then I thought I’d like to have some company on the London part of the trip because David was talking about flying directly to Amsterdam and meeting us in Brussels. So I asked Bill if he’d go with me. I am pleased to say he was pleased to be asked – I think.

Then came the long trip to get my passport. I had had one but let it expire and then it disappeared in one of our moves. Anyway, the whole process was very long and very boring and very frustrating but I have both my little citizenship card and my passport now so am ready to travel.

Letter to My Dad VII

2009-12-28T14:51:00.000-04:00

December 28, 2009

I remember you pouring me a drink at the big family reunion at Weesie’s in 1980 and being kind of amazed at that. I was 40 by then but you were still pretty intimidating to me. And the last time I saw you was in Vancouver when you and Mom made the big cross-country trip to see friends. I came down from Prince Rupert to meet you.

And then you died. What the heck were you doing out on that iceboat on Trout Lake when there was open water? I was devastated. There were all these things I wanted to say and ask you about. I probably would have had the nerve to do it by then.

Letter to My Dad VI

2009-12-28T14:45:00.000-04:00

December 28, 2009

When I got married in 1960 in Montreal and was pregnant, you drove all the way up from Maine (where you were stationed) because you “had to be at a meeting at St. Hubert anyway”, I saw through that right away. You didn’t make the wedding but you did make the reception in our room at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel and put up with some rather drunken folks for quite a while. I was in agony for a number of reasons – I was 6 months pregnant, I was out of work as was my husband, my friends were drinking hard, and I had no idea you were coming. I was just floored!

When Krista and I went to visit you in North Bay – it would have been 1963 or so, I think – you took me into The Hole, the cavern in the mountain there which held all the radar equipment and was part of NORAD. It was amazing! There were two complete sets of computers and they were the size of half a city block on those huge springs. And the blast doors – they were something else. I remember being rather smart-mouthed about them, saying “Are they to keep you in or the Russians out?” You were not amused. When I went to see you in Colorado Springs in 1968, I sure didn’t get to go inside Cheyenne Mountain. By then, I was part of the peace movement in Halifax and you didn’t like that. Remember the discussion/argument? You said, “So you’re saying ‘Better Red than Dead’?” And I said, “I guess so, Dad.” You walked away and I think you were very disappointed.

There is an odd dichotomy in my attitude about war and all that. I am always kind of thrilled to see any kind of plane. For the longest time, my favourites were the Sabres. I had never really seen a Spitfire, except in pictures. But Sabres were being flown when we were in Europe and they were the fighters of the Korean War in the 50s. But they were war machines, so I was torn.

Letter to My Dad V

2009-12-28T14:41:00.000-04:00

December 28, 2009

When we got back you were posted to St. Hubert where we lived in PMQs. I caused much grief for the family there. I know you didn’t want me going out with airmen probably because you thought they were too old for me. I suspect you also wished you wanted me to at least go out with officers.

Remember when you put my name on the list of girls to go to CMR at Saint Jean? I was so angry with you because you didn’t even ask me. The cadets pulled names from a file drawer and I got a young man who was unbelievably shy – poor guy. And he couldn’t dance. We hardly talked at all and I kind of gave up trying to make conversation. And I couldn’t even escape because we had to wait for the big blue air force bus to take us back to St. Hubert.

The second time you did that, I was pretty angry again but this time it was for a group of air cadets from England. There we were – two big blue buses heading up to Ste. Agathe to a swanky home on the lake. One bus held the cadets and the other held the girls. When we got out on the big highway, the buses pulled over and half the girls got off and half the guys got off and then they switched. I actually had a very good time on that trip but the less said the better, I guess.

Each year, the church on the base at St. Hubert would hold a special Battle of Britain Sunday service and we went together at least once that I recall. I don’t think I got the full significance of that for many years.

You drove all the way from St. Hubert to near St. Sauveur to pick me up when a date’s vehicle broke down. When you heard me crying in my room in St. Hubert and you were the only one home, you came to see what the matter was. I had been “fired” from Woolworths because they found out that I was going back to school. I thought it was a summer job to be “manning” the jewelry counter and they thought I was a permanent employee. I was 17. You hugged me and said not to worry, it wasn’t my fault. And I know you were responsible for getting me a job at the Bell Telephone Co. of Canada – as it was known then – when you and Mom were told that I wasn’t in the least bit in interested in school and would be better off working. That was in 1958 or so and I was at Montreal High School.

I know you carried a picture of me in your wallet for many, many years – well after I was driving the family mad by not doing what I was supposed to do – not being a good obedient daughter. For someone who was brought up very strictly and taught to always follow orders, it must have been so hard when I didn’t do what I was told. Willful, stubborn and talkative were words I heard often. Now that I’ve reached an age where I can look back to see how I got here, it’s possible that those three describers are not so bad when it comes to living one’s life - but extremely difficult for a parent to deal with.

Letter to My Dad IV

2009-12-28T14:16:00.000-04:00

December 28, 2009

Then off we went to Lac St. Denis near Morin Heights in Quebec, a brand new radar base. You were, once again, the station adjutant. We lived next to “Mr.” Jackson, the base CO. I have a couple of memories from there about you – the time you led the parade complete with hollered out orders with all the airmen and air women right in front of our house. I was really impressed seeing you doing something militarily with uniform and everything. Remember the women’s barracks were right at the end of our street and I used to hang out my bedroom window late at night and see all the smooching going on when the guys were walking their girlfriends “home”. Our house was as close to the barracks as they were allowed. We got a tour of the radar dome up on the hill one year too.

That's Mom's printing under the photo.

And the Big Deal Memory was when you were to be driving me to Ottawa in the pale green Meteor so I could go to summer camp at Camp Pontiac (an Anglican Church camp). We got up that morning and the car was gone. After a phone call, we all trooped over to the other side of the street, which was a sheer drop into the trees, and there was the car. Someone had pushed it over the side in the night. Boy, were you mad! Fortunately, they made cars out of metal in those days and I don’t think there was any damage at all even though it fetched up against a tree. There’s a picture of that too. I’m sure you were taking pictures for the MPs and the insurance company. I’ve since learned that the station adjutant was a tough job because it involved discipline. I imagine there were folks there who didn’t like you very much.

And then you were posted to Germany in the fall of 1953. Now that was quite the journey! Those were the days when the air force sent us all by ship and because you were an officer, we went first class. For a 13-year-old girl, that was amazingly romantic! I loved the trip over and I loved the trip back three years later in 1956.

Letter to My Dad III

2009-12-28T14:13:00.000-04:00

December 28, 2009

We stayed at Grandma and Grandpa’s until we moved into your old house on James Street in 1948, one door down from Auntie Marg and Uncle Kev and their kids. And you went off to officer training of some kind in Kingston. You came home every weekend or every two weekends – I can’t remember. I also don’t remember if we had a car then so maybe you were travelling by train. Uncle Kev was working in Valleyfield and came home on weekends as well. I think both Mom and Auntie Marg decided they’d rather be in Ottawa where their family was rather than living in either Valleyfield or Kingston. I know that Mom and Auntie Marg were the very best of friends and had written letters to each other all through the war.

When you came home those weekends, I’m sure some of them weren’t all that great. Mom had me (a holy terror), Rob (who got foisted off on me to look after), and Louise who had been born in Belleville. I’m pretty sure that when you walked in the door, Mom said words to the effect that “Hi dear, it’s great to see you home again. You’ll never guess what Anne has done this time!” I remember you taking me to the basement and giving me a spanking for some transgression. That’s what happened in those days when you were “bad”. I don’t suppose you liked it any better than I did. One sin I remember quite clearly was knocking the slats out from under a verandah just down the street from us. The house belonged to the McCurdys and their kid was a real pain for some of the rest of them. I was “dared” to do it and, never one to resist a dare, I knocked all the pieces of wood out. That was really bad!

Ottawa was a time when I was mostly interested in my friends and not very interested in family. I know that you were stationed at RCAF HQ for a time but I’m not sure how long. We went to see Grandpa Tripe at the Vet’s Hospital once, you and I. It was kind of strange for me. The vets in the wards loved seeing a little kid coming through so I got lots of waves and smiles. But Grandpa Tripe was not very happy and was even a bit grumpy. I was uncomfortable seeing him. I think we went a couple of times. Then he died in 1950 and you took me to see him at Hulse and Playfair on Somerset, I thought. But I just checked and Hulse and Playfair (with a new partner) is shown on McLeod so it might have been there. He was in an open coffin and I didn’t like that at all. I have hated funerals with open coffins ever since. Grandma Tripe died in 1948 of breast cancer (as did Auntie Marg, I think) and I don’t remember her very well at all. However, she is in my mind as a very kind, gentle lady. She wrote me a letter when we were still in England and I have that letter. How wonderful that is!

I have two other memories of Ottawa. The first one is going to buy shoes with you. I remember walking up to Bank St. – holding hands. I feel quite certain that this wasn’t your favourite thing to do but Mom probably needed a break and wasn’t about to go traipsing off to get shoes when you could do it. And the second one is going to the War Memorial on Remembrance Day – just you and me. I don’t know how old I was but it really stuck with me.

Letter to My Dad II

2009-12-28T13:59:00.000-04:00

December 28, 2009

Probably my first clear picture of you was in Trenton. We moved there sometime after Rob was born in September of 1945. After some time at RCAF headquarters in Ottawa, you were posted to CFB Trenton as station adjutant. I remember the house, the marsh, the car, your model airplanes, chickenpox and some of the neighbours. I also remember you teaching me to swim in the officer’s pool one summer. The PMQs (personnel married quarters) were pre-war and as you were an officer, we got one that actually had maid’s quarters complete with a series of buttons that rang bells somewhere in the house to summon the maid – imagine. I think they were disconnected because I’m sure I would remember ringing them just for the devilment. We didn’t have much money then so the house was rather sparsely furnished. I do remember a black huge dining room table that was heavy as all-get-out. I can still see Mom folding laundry on it. She told me later that you went to either the town of Trenton or Belleville and rented-to-own the furniture when you first moved there.

The marsh was a wonderful place for kids to wander around in. I’m quite certain we weren’t supposed to be there and I’m quite certain it was a bit dangerous but we did go there in the summer. I lost a rubber boot in there once – the mud just sucked it away and I came home with one boot and a one very wet sock. The redwing blackbirds were everywhere in there.

The Car – I’ve tried to figure out what make it was from pictures but have been unsuccessful. It was black with lots of chrome and kind of bullet-shaped. Since you were the station adjutant, they gave you a car! But it was pretty classy and I remember it parked in front of the house. I went back there a number of years ago and I couldn’t believe how small the house was and how many more houses were built there. There is a picture of me somewhere in my new red coat with a black velvet collar and a lovely Robin Hood type hat complete with a feather on the side. I suspect that might have been Easter since that’s what we got for Easter – new clothes to go to church in.

You built all kinds of model planes over the years and I remember you trying them out in the field behind that house in Trenton. The last model story that I remember was when we were in St. Hubert when you moved into radio-controlled models. I can’t remember offhand who it was with but you had a radio-controlled boat which, I think, sank in the officer’s pool and that was the end of that one. I know there were other radio-controlled planes but by that time, I wasn’t really much interested – it was the late 1950s and I was much more interested in “other things”, as I’m sure you remember with some degree of ire.

Although Mom was really good at keeping track of the various childhood ailments on the back of my birth certificate, it was the chickenpox that comes to mind in Trenton. I came downstairs one morning (June 1948) and showed Mom what I thought was another nipple on my chest! So I got to stay home from school and she bought me some seeds to plant in a garden of my own beside the house. Those seeds got swirled around so much in the following weeks that I often wonder what the next people in that house got in the summer. We moved back to Ottawa before they came up.

Letter to My Dad I

2009-12-28T13:25:00.000-04:00

December 28, 2009

Right off the bat, you would really have disliked this letter, let’s establish that. Talking about feelings was something we never seemed to do very well. But I thought it might be a way to explain why Bill and I are going to Asch, Belgium for January 16, 2010.

I don’t remember very much about Chester when Mom and I lived there during the war. I don’t even remember you coming home on leave. There is a great picture of you holding me and I don’t remember that.
You’d think that having a father come home every now and then would be a really big deal and something that a small child would remember, but No. I remember the garden where we lived at 13 Deva Terrace. I’ve even looked it up on Google Earth and those row houses are still there – apparently they command a lot of money these days. I remember the River Dee, the swans and the field on the other side. I remember our bedroom upstairs where Mom and I slept. I can distinctly remember looking out the window to the little courtyard below and seeing into the window of Belle and Fannie’s house next door where Mom used to go for tea when I was supposed to be napping. Those dear maiden ladies sent me Christmas presents for years – lovely little painted and embroidered bags (like little purses). I don’t have them any more – what a shame. I do have the lovely picture they did of “little Anne” all embroidered and with a piece of Grandma Rannie’s wedding dress for my dress and a lovely little face that Mom told me took them a long to “get right”.

You’d think I’d remember going to Canada on the Scythia II in June of 1945 – I was nearly 5 years old after all – I don’t have any recollection at all. And then you’d think I’d remember a train ride from Halifax (Pier 21) to Ottawa where we lived with Grandma and Grandpa Rannie at 19 Oakland Avenue for a while before Rob was born – I don’t. I don’t remember you even then. I do remember my “room” at Grandma and Grandpa’s – it was the little room that led to the upstairs balcony and it had a little wicker rocking chair (www.oldhickory.com/) that I just loved sitting in. I have that now and although I sure don’t fit in it any more, it does remind me of Grandma and Grandpa and how kind they were. You know Grandpa absolutely adored Grandma – he called her “Tot”, she was little – and he used to bring her tea and toast in bed every morning. Grandpa teased me and made me laugh – I remember that from that stay.

The "Why" of the Upcoming Big Trip

2009-12-23T10:39:00.000-04:00

On January 16, 1945, Phil Tripe was the Commanding Officer of 130 (Punjab) Squadron of the RAF based in Y.32 Ophoven, Belgium near the small community of As, an hour away from Brussels. The Spitfire squadron had been sent there at the end of December 1944, having been based on the continent in Belgium and Holland since September 1944.

Although Dad was with an RAF squadron, he had transferred to the RCAF in December of 1944, probably in preparation for returning to Canada at the end of the war.

The squadron was sent out to strafe German supply trains and trucks that day. I'll let a few accounts of the last day of Dad's war tell the story.

"January 16/45

"It is reported as below in the 125 Wing ORB

"Weather prevented flying before lunch, but around 1400 hours armed recces were started to the Drieborn area as it had been reported that concentrations of German Met had been located. 350 were airborne first being led by the Wing Commander. The promised "fruit" was not located, in fact there was little movement seen over a wide area. Intense flak was experienced and F/Lt Smets was hit and had to bale out inside the enemy lines. 610 were away next, but they got no joy at all. 130 took off third and they ran into a packet of trouble. Intense flak of sorts was thrown at them but despite this the pilots pressed home their attacks on scattered Met and were able to claim a tank damaged and one lorry destroyed and three others damaged, but flak was severe. S/Ldr Tripe was hit and wounded in the right arm. He smartly started for home and then all sorts of things began to happen. He was somewhere near to base when the starboard wing stripped and he realised he would have to bale out. He was severely handicapped by the wound in his arm, but he managed to jettison his hood, and then at 1500 feet he clambered to his feet and let the slipstream pull him out. His "chute" opened O.K. and he landed right next to his favourite "pub" - the "Madaga" at Niel-Pres-d'Asch. He was picked up by the Army and was back at dispersal in a few minutes - in fact before the rest of the squadron had landed. A good show."

And here's how a Reuters story reported the incident -

Canadian Leader of Punjab Squadron Hit
By Denis Martin, The Royal Gazette and Colonist
Hamilton, Bermuda
Monday, February 12, 1945

WITH THE SECOND TACTICAL AIR FORCE BELGIUM, Feb. 11 (Reuter).-The leader of this celebrated “Punjab” Spitfire squadron, wounded by flak after a strafing mission of Germany, thrown out of his cockpit and baling out into the slipstream, managed to drift back into the Allied lines and land on the doorstep of his favourite “pub” (tavern).
He is Squadron Leader P.V.K. Tripe, Distinguished Flying Cross, of 328 James Street, Ottawa, and he is now on his way back to Canada.
The mission had yielded about five motor transport and one tank when Tripe’s aircraft was hit and the mainplane ripped open. Five pieces of shrapnel lodged in his right arm. Tripe nursed the aircraft towards the Allied lines, when a heavy explosion on the starboard side stripped the fuselage and wing. Tripe stood up in the cockpit and let the slipstream whip him into the air as the Spitfire turned into the death roll. Landing by parachute near a wood, Tripe recognised that he was almost on top of a roadhouse only a few miles from the aerodrome. Pilots of the Spitfire wing had held a nightly rendezvous at the inn for some weeks and the patron gave Tripe an enthusiastic reception.
“Nice of you to come so early” he shouted but when he saw that Tripe was wounded he brought out a bottle of his best cognac – not the stuff sold over the bar – and called up an army truck. Tripe has completed over 1,200 flying hours and left for Canada after a brief stay in hospital."

Apparently, it's possible that Dad was hit by US flak.

And so, Bill and I are headed to the Mardaga Inn (see above postcard) to raise a glass and present a poster to that "roadhouse" to remember the last day of Phil Tripe's war. And at the top, there is a postcard of Le Cafe which may very well be where that cognac was downed.

The Back Story

2009-12-21T08:42:00.000-04:00

This is the story of my father and my family's journey to know what happened to him during WWII.

Phil Tripe grew up in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. It seemed he always wanted to fly because he started taking flying lessons at the Ottawa Flying Club in May 1938 when he was 19. He joined the Royal Air Force in 1939 in England. My Aunt Marian - his sister - says he couldn't join the Royal Canadian Air Force as a pilot and officer because he didn't have a university degree.

Phil joined the RAF May 1, 1939 for "a short service commission" and became a pupil pilot at Ansty, Coventry. My mother, Elizabeth Rannie went to England from Ottawa in 1940 where they were married. I was born in Chester and we stayed there until June 1945.

I will add posts with more but this is just a bit of information on why I decided to do this blog. In the summer of 2008, I was in touch with my cousins John and David Hall. We started emailing back and forth about Dad's time in the war and that's when it all reignited my interest. It has been an amazing journey -we've found out lots of information, we have made some terrific friends via email in England and in Belgium.

And my husband Bill (who swears he's interested too!) and I are going to Belgium to celebrate Dad's safe landing. We leave Halifax for London on January 11, 2010. We go to Brussels on the Eurostar on January 15 and then back home on January 19.

In the meantime, the poster at the top of Phil Tripe was constructed by my cousin John Hall.