Preface to "A Veteran Looks Back"

During my service career I must have been a real pack rat as I seemed to have kept everything, including news items, leave passes, maps, ration coupons and pictures. For many years, items of memorabilia were stored in boxes and envelopes throughout the house, and my wife Maureen used to tell me that I had better do something with it, before it got lost or destroyed. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until her untimely passing, that I started to organize and put things together in a somewhat systematic fashion. I prepared a giant album into which much of the collected material was inserted; I’m sure Maureen would have been pleased with the result. Preparation of the album decided me to set down and write a story to supplement the memorabilia, in the hope that it would be of interest to others.
This work should not be considered as being totally authentic, since most veterans have the tendency to “shoot the bull” a bit, and I am no exception in this respect. Research, other than reference to my “log book” and the book “The R.C.A.F. Overseas — the Sixth Year”, was completely lacking. My memory, too, of certain events after forty plus years, was pretty dim. So if a rating for accuracy was to be given for this, it would probably be “mostly fact with a bit of fiction thrown in”.
It traces the various steps in an airman’s career from Day One onward. Starting out at Manning Pool, where you’re “green as grass” and the Corporal is King, you live through all the drill and “Joe Jobs”. Eventual posting to I.T.S. (Initial Training School) and you feel you’re on your way. It follows one through the various training stations in Canada and Britain until, finally a posting to a heavy bombing squadron. Memories, both pleasant and otherwise, are recalled as you move through your operational tour, and then the long months of waiting to get back to Canada, and the eventual return to civilian life.
It is not the story of heroes, but of very average people. Our skipper used to tell us that he wanted no heroes on his crew, and we took him at his word. Not once on twenty one bombing raids did we ever have the occasion to fire our guns at attacking fighters. We did experience bad weather, flak, searchlights and near collisions, but so did everyone else. We did what we had to do, and hopefully we did it well.
All through the service life, there were many inconveniences and many things to grumble and complain about; and believe me we did. At the same time the Air Force provided me with memories which I still relish today, and I can truthfully say that my Air Force years were among the best years of my life.
I am dedicating this writing to the memory of three good friends from the Ferrybank to Chesterwold area, northwest of Ponoka, Alberta where we all grew up together. My cousin, Willard Doran, an air gunner attached to the RAF (Royal Air Force) failed to return from a raid on Berlin in the latter part of 1943. Alex Rutherford and Clarence (Choppy Lee) joined the Canadian Army and both were killed shortly after D-Day in the Normandy Campaign. To these three in particular, but to all Canadian ex military personnel in general, I dedicate this writing.

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