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Seventy Years Ago Today An Ausssie Airliner Went Down. You've Not Heard Of It.


sixtiesrelic

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It's in real time as much as possible... The records had dates and times often.

 

If you haven't looked up ADY on google to see what was on the last page of this story as it were, (like who done it in a murder mystery) DON'T! Part of this story/game is to re-enact what was happening for the searchers, family etc.

 

Later I'll move over to the cockpit, but not yet. This part is the distress phase.

 

 

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2.10 PM Anzac Day

 

Lofty overtakes Rinso streaking for the split trench.

 

When the boys untangle themselves, spit the dirt from the bottom of the trench out of their mouths and get the latecomers from off the top of them, they look at each other.

 

Rinso’s face is a nasty browny- grey colour with the large freckles standing out even more than normal. (‘Y’ don’t see a lot of Abos with freckles … red headed father… Ol’ Rinso always looks a bit unwashed doesn’t he!)

 

“Y’ done it again mate. I reckon y’was runnin’ just before the siren sounded… BLOODY Nips! This is the twelfth time the little bastards have done us over.”

 

“There’s the Yanks… They’re Kittys… Hope they don’t fly into our flack like the last raid.”

 

“At least the pilot bailed out safely.”

 

“Give it to ‘em boys!”

 

 

Charlie and his captain had already flown UXH to Katherine so it was ready for the following day's flight.

 

 

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Things are indeed grim.

 

Are there survivors? How injured are they? How many dead? Are they suffering and jammed in the wreckage?

 

Imagine the flies, mosquitoes… ANTS … dingos or Hawks.

 

We’ve got to find them!

 

The Guinea Airways pilots have poured over the radio reports trying to work out where they think ADY flew. They are typing out their ideas tonight.

 

Mr Adam of the Engineer’s branch plotted ADY’s probable route from the bearings and times , but can only give a rough idea because the aircraft flew a further forty minutes without obtaining a bearing.

 

Searches have re- combed the probable area of one hundred miles from Darwin that it could have flown in that time.

 

 

People are delving deeper. Questions are being asked, now that the equipment and personnel have been unable to be faulted.

 

 

 

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The real time rendering of the story is a nice touch & what a great tribute during the Anzac day period.Cheers, Willie.

Agree wholeheartedly: and as a great tribute, so was the fly-over here today of a Vee composed of five Tiger Moths! Got me up & out of me comfy chair like a shot, I can tell you!

And, I might add ... also got me just a little misty-eyed, thinking of all those who trained to fly on same, and never returned.

 

ps - five Tigers make a LOT of noise!

 

 

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Guest ozzie

To windy for the usual flight of Tiger Moths and others that usually do a fly over from Luskintyre on Anzac Day.

 

Steam Fest at Maitland this weekend. I wonder if they will have the race from Newcastle to Maitland between the steam train and the Tiger Moth. They used to use the 6801 steam train ( the big green one) but some putz politician put it up on blocks a while back. Not sure if there is another steam train fast enough to run against the tiger. Shame about the 6801 it was the only train in NSW that could run to the timetable.

 

Back at 3pm. The suspense is torture.

 

 

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Guest ozzie

There have been a few wins and loses for the Tiger over the years they raced.

 

As a kid i looked forward to the trip to Newcastle to vist relatives. grab a drink at the platform milk bar and then watch them change the locos over. Black face and cloths by the time we got to newcastle from hanging out the window.

 

Wonder if the steam engine could be reinvented by running it on gas?

 

 

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Edgar Johnston DFC

 

Sunday morning:-

 

Melbourne. In a little suburban, red brick, slate roof 'semidetached' , Mrs Johnston moans, “Oh No dear, not another one.”

 

 

“Sweetheart I’m under a lot of pressure and I really need one.”

 

 

“You’ve had one a day for the last four days dear!”

 

 

“Sweeeetheart I really do need one.”

 

 

“Oh alright, but now I’m going to have too light the copper to get the water hot and do the washing today because your last collar was for tomorrow.

 

I can just imagine those busybodies, Mrs Ryan and O’ Reilly sniffing as they walk past from late mass, judging ME because I’m doing the washing on the Sabbath. This is going to put my whole week out!”

 

 

“You’re a Gem Sweetheart. I do HAVE to go in and control the search. For at least, a few hours.

 

 

Mrs Johnston goes into the kitchen to put the iron on the gas stove to heat so she can iron the starched collar.

 

 

Doreen went to confession last night and mass this morning.

 

 

 

Katherine N.T. 06.30

 

In the Guinea Airways hostel, house keeper Mrs Dulce Hunt (widow), looked in the kitchen and reminded Yellow Mary to let the toast go cold before buttering it. Captain Chapman didn’t like melted butter on his toast. Young Charlie… that poor boy, liked a slice of bread and butter with his early morning cuppa.

 

Mrs Hunt went down the hall adjusting her hair to knock on the boys’ door to wake them.

 

Her hair was her crowning glory when she was a girl… ‘that was a long time ago’. She’s one of those tank like, solid, iron-grey haired, hustle bustle, ladies who gets things done.

 

She is wearing a sensible dress, not too many foundation garments (too hot and anyway who cares) an apron and slippers.

 

She’s a woman not to be trifled with, but her motherly nature comes out in her catering to ‘her boys who are always so tired. Both engineers and pilots are working horrendous hours with the threat of the bloody Nips all the time. Little buggers even killed poor Yellow Mary’s cousin, Dodger a month ago, way down here at Katherine.’

 

After she knocked, she went to the kitchen and return with their trays of tea for the boys to have in bed as they woke up… “At least they only had a quick two and a half hour return, trip today and they could go and swim down in the river after it. I’ll get Mary to pack sandwiches later for them to have down there.”

 

 

Darwin. HF DF hut.

 

Sergeant Johnston…(Not to be confused with Edgar Johnston DFC) of DCA Melbourne, was worried about Corporal Killingsworth.

 

He had started chain smoking since the night they operated the DF apparatus. Lighting fag one off another and mostly lighting the next ,when he still had sometimes an inch to go.

 

He was getting twitchy about the bearings and was crosschecking the sense too often.

 

Obviously he needed a rest and reassurance that they had done everything they could, to help ADY the other night. They couldn’t have done more with those fuzzy readings.

 

 

A Guinea's engineer in the Guinea Airways hangar wreckage. Direct hit a few weeks ago and yesterday a near miss that has wiped out many of the tools.

 

“Ah ya little yeller mongrels… look at this… my vernier now. Micrometer last time… If I coulda gotten my hands on one of those bloody Nips in that bomber that caught it yesterday, he’d die by the death of a thousand bashes. All with me busted tools and to finish him off I’d wire the small bits to a broom handle and use it like a cat an’ nine tails. How we gunna work on anything now?”

 

 

Adelaide. 9.45 AM

 

Captain Dowie had walked six blocks in the passing drizzle to Prospect Road where Nobby Buckley another Guinea Airways captain picked him up in his motor car to visit the two Mrs. Grays on the way out to the drome to discuss where DY could be.

 

Nobby, as they drive out to the drome. “I’m going to have to mix some aviation petrol with the car petrol at this rate I’m going through it. I have been milking a pint a week from my tank and storing it in a two gallon tin for emergencies, but I’ve been through all that with all the extra driving last week.

 

Captain Dowie doesn’t answer.

 

“Funny things women!. Have you noticed how they home in on what people could be thinking and that is their main line of thought?

 

“What would Bill be thinking when they were told they were east of Darwin? What would he be thinking when they couldn’t find the search lights? What would they be thinking when they were having trouble receiving messages?”

 

Man gives them a sensible answer and they’re off again… “yes but what would they be thinking?”

 

Captain Dowie doesn’t answer.

 

They are going to come up with some sort of answers and captain Bob Godsell is going to type a letter off to DCA Melbourne revealing their concerns.

 

So many questions. “How could they be having so much trouble receiving and transmitting?”

 

Crook wireless? .. well hardly! Not both the transmitter AND receiver in two different sets?”

 

“Aerial? … pretty spectacular to lose both the HF and the VHF!... How? Bird strike?”

 

“In cloud at night?”

 

“Lightning? Would have burnt out the sets wouldn’t it “

 

“So!... that leaves distance! … they weren’t near Darwin!”

 

There is the unaccountability of their being East of Darwin at 18.35. Duncan didn’t believe it, judging from his reaction.”

 

“At that time of day and Thunderstorms… I would have difficulty believing them. Yet they give and ETA for Darwin, so they must have identified their position.”

 

“I think they were mistaken on that!”

 

Pilots love trying to work out what happened… FROM their perspective and experiences.

 

 

The media, love writing what THEY think. They tend to get their information from each other. They love using technical terms that they don’t know the exact industry meaning of and of course, pepper the story with superlatives.

 

"Glide" turns to plummet, generally hero in media talk is dickhead in pilot talk.

 

 

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the fly-over here today of a Vee composed of five Tiger Moths! Got me up & out of me comfy chair like a shot, I can tell you!

That would have been a great sight, have never seen a formation of Tiger Moths. We had the two T6 Texans fly over just before the start of the service, one trailing smoke. A nice touch. Saw them a couple of weeks ago flying in formation for quite a long time, they came straight over the top of the house & didn't have a camera. Oh well, next year maybe.

 

Cheers, Willie.

 

 

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27th April

 

Conversation at about 9AM

 

Darwin Briefing Office .

 

Present :- a Qantas captain. A couple of Air Force Hudson skippers in to talk to the DCA search master, Briefing officer and Killingsworth the aeradio operator who spent the last hours in contact with ADY.

 

“Anything yet?”

 

“Nothing…There have been quite a few sightings but … nothing.”

 

“It’s a rum thing. Our blokes got in with no trouble…”

 

“Well… They don’t have the training we have. Tin pot little outfit.”

 

“That second dicky; he’s not long down from New Guinea. I’m not saying they’re not good stick and rudder men those blokes, but, they flog around in contact with the ground all the time, in bloody great ancient corrugated sheds! Never go in clouds… ‘full of rocks’ they reckon”.

 

“Yeah, there’s a hell of a difference flying blind much of the time in Douglasses and Lockheeds and daylight flying in those old New Guinea crates.”

 

“They reckon he had a bit of a prang a month or two ago in a Fox. How can a bloke get proficient when he’s flying a Fox Moth one day, then an Electra the next and a Fourteen the next?”

 

“That second dicky, Gray… he hasn’t been on the line long. They say his Morse wasn’t too flash. Probably went to pieces under stress and couldn’t read or send properly.”

 

“I’ve never noticed it! Couldn’t tell him from most of the others. You don’t get to recognise the pilot’s hand like ground operators … turbulence mostly… he certainly has never stood out as a poor operator.

 

It was the static and weak signal. I was having to get them to repeat as much as he was getting me to.

 

Cameron was sitting beside him with head phones on. If Gray wasn’t understanding it because he was in a flap, Cameron would have. It was both sending and receiving that they were having all the trouble with. ”

 

“Shut the bloody door over there! You born in a tent or something. Bloody dust and noise. Why does Guinea have to park so close and why can’t they close the engines down quicker.”

 

“Tin pot outfit!”

 

“Anyway, that Cameron’s a funny cove … won’t leave his heading when he’s not sure of his position. Reckons he’ll hold it till he knows he’s safe.”

 

“Yeah he was a bit of a perfectionist when he was with us back in the old days.”

 

Shhh! …Watch it! this second dickety coming in is Young Gray, Bill Gray’s brother.”

 

“Another bloody New Guinea wonder!”

 

 

The above is a figment of the writer’s imagination. Qantas and RAAF pilots weren’t like that… neither have mainline pilots been derogatory towards their company’s subsidiary pilots… EVER!

 

It is what COULD have been said and I’m using this form in the story, to acquaint you with the rumours floating around. They’re all documented.

 

 

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27th April …18.35 Sunset at Darwin. Still ADY is not found.

 

In Adelaide this morning Tess walked to the shop to buy the Advertiser .

 

Yesterday had been terrible, “If only the trams ran on a Sunday, we could have taken the girls out and given us something to DO after Captain Dowie and Nobby left.”

 

 

There were a couple of articles about Darwin in the paper but no news of ADY. Mr. Steele had told them he would send someone around to the flat the moment anything was heard.

 

They waited.

 

 

The Courier Mail in Brisbane had an article on ADY ... their reporter decided he might be onto something.

 

At Pymble in Sydney, old Mrs Gray screamed when she read the letter from her daughter-in-law… “Bill missing?”

 

She telephoned Mr Gray at his engineering works at Gordon.

 

As usual, he wasn’t wearing his hearing aid and couldn’t hear what she was saying. He told her to wait while he turned a machine on so he could hear over the telephone better. His deafness was odd, in that he couldn’t hear the telephone so well in the quiet.

 

On receiving the news from his wife he erupted. “Why haven’t we been told!”

 

He had noticed a small piece in the Saturday, Sydney Morning Herald on page seven … right down the bottom.

 

He didn’t dream that it would be one of his sons.

 

Old Mr Gray was one of those parents who wants to KNOW and won’t stop worrying people till gets all the answers.

 

He put a trunk call through to Guinea Airways in Adelaide and was told there was an indefinite delay. They would call him back.

 

He paced up and down his office, not wanting to go back to the workshop in case he miss the telephone bell. He had plenty of time to get himself worked up and he did.

 

When the Guinea Airways switch girl got onto him, he was off. He wasn’t the slightest bit interested in what some slip of a girl had to say, but she got to listen to his tirade and when he’d finished she was told in no uncertain terms that he wished to speak to the general manager of chief pilot.

 

She was glad to call Captain Steele and switch him through.

 

Old Mr Gray’s hearing affliction caused him to be loud in his ordinary delivery but when agitated he raised his voice a little… to him! You’ve heard old blokes like him. You’ll be in a theatre or shopping centre and suddenly some old codger starts booming in a slow drawl and no one misses it. You get to hear what he has to say whether you want to or not.

 

Steele was questioned at length as to what was being done to find the aircraft and why Captain Gray’s parents hadn’t been informed.

 

Ken Steele found that most of his answers weren’t being heard, old Mr. Gray was more interested in talking than listening. He wasn’t too happy when he settled down and absorbed the fact that his firstborn hadn’t mentioned THEM as next of kin.

 

Mister Gray was NOT satisfied and immediately set about getting himself and the mater, seats on a flight to Darwin where he could observe that everything that could be done, WAS being done.

 

We don’t know how long he stayed (It is confirmed that they went, as the youngest son stayed at home with his sister and her two children… He was a lot like his father and was most put out at having to help look after the children, a duty his mother had always carried out.)

 

Old Mr. Gray also flew to Melbourne to worry DCA.

 

He knew a lot about flying. He’d studied it for some years.

 

When Bill came down from New Guinea on bi-annual leave and Charles was learning to fly, they sat discussing flying as pilots do and especially the way students do, as they soak up the knowledge like a sponge.

 

Old Mr. Gray felt left out. Here he had two sons discussing a technical subject he knew nothing about.

 

He had indentured all his boys into engineering trades and he had been the font of all knowledge in any discussions.

 

He didn’t like this, so immediately took himself off to Mascot to start flying lessons.

 

Did alright to for an old bloke, and went solo. After his first solo, he reckoned he knew all about it and ceased lessons, but continued to pour over all their text books.

 

As mentioned earlier Bill Gray purchased the very latest texts printed.

 

‘Through the Overcast’ and Safety in Flight by the American, legendry pilot, Assen Jordanoff were two.

 

Charles changed aircraft and captains and flew AAU from Katherine to Darwin then Alice. 7:20 looks like a little bit of searching took place on the flight.

 

 

 

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28th April 1942.

 

Nil sighting ADY. “A week today The chance of survivors is awful slim. Hell I hope they didn’t suffer.”

 

At Pine Creek Railway Station N.T.

 

Conversation:-

 

Station master to his wife over a cuppa at smoko.

 

“Young Hardy came to see me a little while ago about any news on the plane that was flying around their house on Tuesday night. Old Harry thought it might be trying to land, so he got the boy to go out on the landing strip and wave a lantern to show them where it was, but it just flew off.

 

That was the night the airliner went down.

 

I telegraphed the army camp to tell their authorities in case it’s important.”

 

“What airliner was that dear?”

 

Charlie arrived home this afternoon to find a note saying Tess was staying with Hilda. He had done an Alice, Oodnadatta, Maree, Adelaide today. Oodnadatta was a bit soft... they had 105 points of rain in the last few days.

 

He filled out his logbook after tea and realized he’d cracked his first thousand hours on the fifteenth, probably passing Dalby on the Archer to Batchelor trip … "and I was so tired I didn’t even think to be ready for it …Bugger!”

 

No newspapers covered any story on ADY OR the bombing raid on Darwin at 1207 YESTERDAY, where a number of aircraft were shot down.

 

NEXT REPORT AT 8 pm TOMORROW.

 

 

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In this day of internet communication it is a bit of a revelation going back to the wartime forties. Letters, telegrams, trunk line calls ("Three minutes are you extending?")

 

I will spreed it up later as the investigation went at a snail's pace. Lots of crashes due to the war.

 

 

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29Th April 1942

 

The Sydney morning Herald had two interesting articles. The Argus in Melbourne ran almost word perfect reports on the same stories.

 

 

The Adelaide Advertiser ran a somewhat longer piece on ADY seeing as it was local news.

 

 

Did you really read the article on the lost plane or did you gloss over it, because you know the story already and miss the interesting mistake?

 

Elsewhere, some journalist at the Advertiser wasn’t impressed with people who were rushing out to hoard butter when news came that it might be rationed. There’d been a higher than normal run on butter sales in the affluent suburbs, rich people had refrigerators and could hoard it.

 

Have you gone back and read it or are you just reading on?

 

That mistake set the cat amongst the pigeons in Sydney. Mr and Mrs Gray were suffering shock and hadn’t told the rest of the family, only the three children at home.

 

Both parents came from large families and most of the aunties either read the Herald and saw the name of the first officer and went into shock or telephoned the others to find out what they knew. Charles was the favourite of all the women. He was the least boisterous of the five boys and had a nice soft, gentle, nature. He was going to be sorely missed.

 

Now the authorities have admitted defeat, the theories and investigation really starts and turns up some little ommissions on the evening of the twenty first and subsequently.

 

 

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Wednesday 29 th April 1942

 

 

Batchelor Field… 49th Fighter Group camp.

 

 

Lunch time after mail call.

 

 

Wyatt Wiley’s tent mate sits talking to Billy Bedford’s tent mate. They’re concerned and sad but also jubilant.

 

Their tent mates have been missing for over a week now. It’s not sounding good.

 

Both Wyatt and Billy got mail today.The mail corporal hung on to the letters.

 

Jubilation… We did well two days ago, when the Japs bombed Darwine again at lunch time.

 

The Kentucky Gentleman got THREE of them. Man he’s good. Did ya’ know he has the two outer guns taken out of his Kitty so it’s lighter and he can catch the Jap planes?

 

 

 

The Kentucky Gentleman’s P40

 

 

“We lost three though.”

 

 

“Yeah but they say Lootenant Martin was seen parachuting into the water beside the beach.”

 

 

“Didn’t you hear? He and Stevie Andrews were picked up by the Ossies.”

 

 

At another table a Corporal sits shaking his head as he muses, “How lucky am I? Gattamalata told me he wanted to go with Ray Love on that Guinea Airways airioplane, so I went in the Ansett one in his place. Man I could be out there somewhere right now…”

 

 

At another table… a private talks quietly to his mate. “I’m not kidding ya Bud. There’s gold around here and I’m going to have a bit of a try, not much else to do in this godforsaken place.

 

I was talking to one of the Aussie RAAF guys and he showed me his miner’s license and some specks of alluvial gold. He said he’s ‘on colour’ and so no one can take it off him, he got himself a license. There’s lots of them on this lurk. He reckons they found a camp in the bush somewhere where the Chinese had a mine. The Chows were digging all over the place last century.”

 

 

What happened to the ten men’s gear that they had in their tents? Did everyone nobly leave it alone, or did some of it get snaffled by jokers who thought, “Might as well get it before someone else does. I can give it back when he return and say I hung onto it for him, to keep it safe.”

 

 

There is still the off chance that some skinny, sunburnt, scratched, starving wreck is going to stumble out of the bush and announce he’s come from the plane crash. There’s plenty of water around.

 

 

 

In Adelaide, Hilda spent a restless night realizing THIS time she probably is a widow.

 

Next installment 8 PM tomorrow night.

 

 

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01 May1942

 

Lofty got mail today; second time in a fortnight. The first was a, “Happy birthday in advance for April the 24th. (I don’t know when this letter will reach you)”. She enclosed a half share in a lottery ticket .

 

 

His mum has sent him a cutting from the paper with the results of the lottery.

 

His sister Alice, had felt lucky for him because she saw, when she was buying the ticket, that a few tickets lower in the book was the ticket number that was his birth date. He was born in 1915.

 

Alice and his mum reckoned it was an omen. There was a story in the paper about an American serviceman winning a big prize in the lottery. Some readers thought “How wonderful for him”. Others thought, “Why should HE win … newcomer! I buy a share every week and I’ve never won anything!”

 

We have been led to believe that everyone was pulling for the war effort and no one knew about the bombing of Darwin at the time, but reading the newspapers of the day shows up quite a different story. Things seem to be much the same as today. Half the population was doing the ‘right thing’ and the other half couldn’t give a bugger. It’s reminiscent of the great water saving exercise of a couple of years ago when people had little timers, so they took the minimum time and buckets in the shower to catch every drop and use it again.

 

The Government is encouraging the do-gooders to give back any unused ration coupons rather than give them to someone else or hoarding them for later.

 

 

The word is spreading around the top end that an airliner is missing and some people are wondering if they should contact someone about what they know or think.

 

 

In Guinea Airways at Parafield the pilots are trying to fathom what happened and where Cameron is.

 

They are using their experience in their deliberations… No one really trusts the HF. DF

 

… EVERY bearing was second class on the night. That isn’t something you really should navigate by.

 

What about the fact that he was heading southish to Katherine when he asked for the first bearing, then three minutes later he gets a bearing north of that first one? I’d be doubting the sense of that reading too.

 

There’s the weakness of the radio reception that indicates distance from the station yet he’s being told he’d passing over the top a couple of times.

 

If he passed over the top why was he in heavy rain when no one else was.

 

Why couldn’t he see the search lights.

 

Did Cameron maintain heading like he always did or did that brush with DCA recently, when he didn’t know where he was EXACTLY and continued north to be sure he was clear of all land including Bathurst and Melville islands before sneaking down to get under the cloud cause him to do something different.

 

Why has the wreckage not been found. Has it slid under the canopy of the mangroves?

 

 

Mr Adam, the supervising engineer of the engineering branch is slighted that people are trying to blame HIS apparatus and has run more tests. No one can fault the equipment, it is functioning correctly. His calculations of the track of the aircraft are on a map he’s submitting to the investigation, are based on scientific FACT … the bearings and times. The pilots are bringing in what-iffs into their summations.

 

Charlie is having four days off.

 

How do you think Rita Cameron and her daughter are feeling. The pilots and wives were visiting her, but she didn't have the closeness of her brother and sister in law to keep her company.

 

8 PM tomorrow for the next. sorry I got on the phone with a historian and we raved too long this evening.

 

 

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!st May 2012 One of the readers following this story each day, is little Anne who had her photo taken in front of Hilda’s bicycle before she went to school (Hilda’s Letter 22 April) and sadly, today her little sister Lyn’s memorial service was held. She died unexpectedly on the 21st of April 2012, a few hours short of seventy years after her father’s crash.

 

 

Ann and Lyn have been a font of information in the gathering of the facts and photos for this story.

 

 

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