Flight Sergeant John Samuel Davies

This is the chapter from Snaith Knights - memories of Jack as recollected by his sister, Audrey (my mother-in-law):

<<My brother, Flight Sergeant John Samuel Davies was born on 29th June 1922 at 28 High St. Agnesgate, Ripon, Yorkshire, this being the home of his maternal grandparents, Isabel and John Henry Procter. He weighed 10¾ pounds.

After a few weeks he and his mother & eldest sister, Audrey (that’s me) came back to 56 Hatherly St., Liverpool to be re-united with his father, Thomas Davies, who served with the King’s Liverpool Regiment during the First World War. Housing was at a premium after the war and the family found rooms in a big house in Toxteth, Liverpool which they shared with a couple who just had one daughter who was aged about 8 years old. In the meantime the family had their names on the Liverpool Corporation’s housing list and after a year or two were offered half of an ancient manor house built in 1684, which had been modernised, having three bedrooms and a bathroom and also a big garden which also contained two enormous trees, one a lime tree and the other a copper beech. 

Allerton at that time was glorious open country with very few buildings. The other half of the manor house was designated to be the offices and house of the clerk of works of the estate to be built, some of which was to be private housing and some corporation, a block of flats, shops, a church and a primary school which was one of the last buildings to be completed. Consequently some of the first pupils were seven years old when they began their education at Springwood Primary School. I was one of them. When Jack, as he was known, was two years old his sister, Betty, was born in her grandmother’s house but due to the incompetence of the retired midwife nearly bled to death. Jack, Betty & I were all baptised in Ripon Cathedral. 

Our father, Thomas Davies’ first employment after the First World War was as a tram driver for Liverpool Corporation but he had an accident while helping to free a cyclist whose bicycle had got stuck in the tramlines, trams being the public transport at that time. He injured his right hand so could not drive a tramcar. He eventually found an office job which was much more to his liking. 

Jack was a friendly boy and soon made lots of friends at school and Sunday School. Our father was promoted in his work which meant that we had to move from Liverpool to Warrington to a house in Padgate on the outskirts of that town. It was a pleasant village with a school church and a village shop. It meant changing schools as well as houses. Jack would be about 10 years old so we had not been long in Padgate when it was time for Jack to sit the 11+ exam. He won two scholarships, one to Eccles Secondary School and one to the Boteler Grammar School founded by Sir Thomas Boteler many years ago. He chose the latter and his name is on the Roll of Honour board at that school.  

Then we moved house again, as our sister Beryl had been born so our parents decided to go for a bigger house, again in a village near to Warrington. Jack soon made friends with David Dutton who lived next door. Surprisingly there was only a few hours difference in their ages. They shared many activities - fishing, cycling, football, cricket etc. While we lived in Padgate Jack was in the church choir. He loved to sing but was not too keen on going to the weekly choir practice. He didn’t mind singing at weddings when the choirboys got half a crown each for singing. Jack’s reward for winning a scholarship was a new Raleigh bicycle from our parents. Apart from using it to go to school he and Dave used to go for long rides into the countryside. They were both keen fishermen and would often go to Leigh a few miles away to fish. Once he and Dave cycled to Widnes about 14 miles away, taking a spirit stove, sausages and other eatables and also a billy can. They lost track of time and when it was getting dark our parents became worried for their safety but as usual they turned up safe and sound. 

Jack and I each had chores to do, mainly on Saturday mornings and we each had a small plot of garden. We were given a packet of seeds each. Mine were flowers. Jack chose radishes but he dug them up nearly every day ‘just to see if they were growing’. He was a bright scholar but left school when he was fifteen, the usual age for secondary school leavers then, unless they wanted to go for matriculation.  

I think he always regretted not staying on at school – he tried to persuade Dave’s niece to stay on but to no avail. She went to a private school and left to go and work in a Draper’s shop. Jack’s first job was in a chartered accountant’s office, but after a while he realised he was never going to be any more than an errand boy so became a statistical clerk with a Jewish clothing warehouse where he was much appreciated. When he went in the RAF they presented him with a solid silver cigarette case and when he was killed they put an obituary notice in the newspaper.  

Then we moved to a suburb of Manchester. Jack and Dave were still very good friends over the years and spent a lot of time together. Dave trained to be an engineer and wasn’t allowed to join the forces as he was in a reserved occupation. Jack joined the RAF Volunteer Reserve and I don’t think he expected to be called up as soon as he was. The war started on 3rd September 1939 and for a while it was stalemate with false air raid warnings. One wouldn’t think there was a war on and then suddenly it was action stations. Jack and I left home in the same week in 1941, he to begin his training in the RAF and I to go in the women’s Land Army. The RAF had numerous training places both in this country and Canada. Recruitment for the armed forces continued throughout the war. As far as I can remember Jack did his early training at Yatesbury in Wiltshire. Padgate was a clearing station for the RAF. Many new airfields were created. Jack did his training mainly in Wellington bombers and trained to be a wireless operator/air gunner but his actual position when they were flying was wireless operator. As wireless operator he had like a ‘spider’ badge and his air gunner badge had AG on. As wireless operator/air gunner it took longer than to train as a pilot, navigator, bomb aimer or other crew member. We kept in touch by letter writing but could never seem to have our leaves at the same time. Jack and Dave remained best of friends and when he had leave Jack would make sure he spent at least a couple of days at Dave’s. On his last leave he said to Dave, “If I don’t come back, throw a wreath up for me.” Prophetic words.

I don’t know in what order but parts of his training took place at Lossiemouth in Scotland which he said was a ‘dead and alive hole’ on Sundays, Rufforth and Acaster Malbis both near York and Jurby on the Isle of Man where he was sent as a gunnery instructor. He also lectured to some Air Cadets and said that by the time he’d finished he realised he’d hardly started as to what he was going to tell them. He said they were all very keen. Jack was also in London where he was selected to take part in the Festival of Remembrance. 

I only know about a couple of girlfriends. There was one, named Diana who came from London. Her brother was in the RAF and he’d been awarded the DFC. The other one was called Joan and came from York. She came to Jack’s funeral. Mum and Dad liked Diana very much and when he was killed they wrote to her to let her know and she wrote them such a lovely letter back. 

Jack did tell us a little about life at Snaith. On one occasion one of the lads had had an old bike given and came to Jack and asked him if he could do anything with it. I think it was minus most things except the frame. They had to go and get the spare parts and Jack was up until midnight doing the bike for him. Other folks brought bikes to him for adjustment or repair or whatever so he ended up doing bikes for a number of people. He had his down there and after he was killed the bike was amongst the possessions that were supposed to be returned but Dad said they had to keep it on the station for the use of any airmen that wanted it. He also told us about when they’d had to make a forced landing after they’d been on a raid and it happened to be in a village where one of the aircrew lived so they were there overnight until either another plane came to take them back or their plane was repaired and the next time they were over that way they bombed the village with toilet rolls!

 He said the food at Snaith was very good and he also told us that in the mess there were two bowls – one containing Cod Liver Oil and one containing ‘wakey wakey pills’, so named because when so many aircrew had been lost during heavy bombing quite often the crews only had about two hours respite before being given a meal of bacon and eggs and sent out on another bombing raid, as so many aircrew had been lost or taken prisoner. Although the food at Snaith was good the huts were inadequate as far as space was concerned. This meant some of the crew had to sleep in a different hut until they got better accommodation. They crew were very close. They were all a very good crew. Jack said he could trust them anywhere. He had no fears about flying with them at all. I know one came from Wales. My mother and his mother corresponded for a while after the crash. 

As regards the crash, we were told that on the afternoon of 14/3 1945 they were sent on a bombing raid to Homburg. It appears that they set off in brilliant sunshine but when they got back fog had come down and the plane, a Halifax heavy bomber, overshot the runway and had to circle round again to try and land again. There have been various reasons given about why the plane crashed into a railway embankment but it was well known that bigger and bigger planes were being built but runways not lengthened to accommodate them. Some time afterwards Dave and his wife went close to the airfield at Snaith and said the nose of the plane was still embedded in the embankment. I still keep in touch with Dave and his family.

It was rather strange how I found out about the crash. I was due for a week’s leave but I had charge of the Junior Section of the Girls’ Friendly Society at Woodbrough so I asked my boss if I could postpone my leave until the following week. He was quite agreeable, so I got my pass (we used to get a free pass twice a year), a dozen fresh eggs produced on the farm and a big bunch of spring flowers to take home to Manchester where we were living at the time. I was met at the station by a friend and my parents. I couldn’t understand why my Dad, normally a very private and reserved sort of person, was talking so much. He was talking twenty to the dozen. You couldn’t stop him talking. As we turned into the avenue where we lived I said, “If Jack is ever down in Wiltshire again he has to call and see us.” At that point Dad just took hold of my arm and said “I’ve got some bad news”. So I said, “What is it? It isn’t Jack is it?” He said, “yes, I’m afraid so.” I said “he hasn’t gone has he Dad?” and he just said “yes.” The strange thing was that my Dad had come home early from work that day. It must have been a Friday because my Mum used to go into Manchester on a Friday afternoon when she’d done all her housework to see if she could get any food off the ration like sausages, or liver or anything like that. She wasn’t in when my Dad got in as she hadn’t come back at that point but when she did come back he said, “Sit down Nell and I’ll make us a cup of tea” and only maybe about an hour before that he’d got this telegram to say Jack had gone. We had to let them know at the farm and they said I could stay away as long as it took. We could have had him buried at Snaith or round about that area but because it would have been easier for us to get to Ripon to visit his grave we had a private grave. 

Jack’s funeral service was in Ripon Cathedral and was taken by the Dean of Ripon. Bearers were from the RC Airforce and burial was in Ripon cemetery. As our leaves never coincided I never got to see Jack in his uniform but try to visit his grave, where our parents are also laid to rest, once a year.>>

Peter actually managed to get an interview with an eye-witness to the crash F/Lt Jim Gardner DFC.  Here is an extract:

<<JG: The crash wasn't at the back of the WAAF site.  It was between Heck station and the end of the long runway.  There were 8 of them in it.  Freddy Lofthouse and I (he was my navigator), we had been in Doncaster for the night.  We got of the aircraft at Heck and the aircraft was just landing.  We saw the aircraft overshoot and the engines never caught up and it just bellied into the field

(PG: you actually went onto the aircraft didn't you?)

JG: Yes.  We got there before the ambulance and fire tender.  Freddy and I both looked in and it was obvious they were all dead

(PG: Were they say in their positions?)
JG: A number of them were in their rest position, the gunner was in the rear turret of course.  The second pilot was alongside Chopping and the mid-upper gunner must have come out and gone into the rest position with the rest of the crew>>