In 1944 I held the rank (a misnomer!) of Flying Officer, F/O for short, in the Royal Air Force Airfield Construction Service, and had volunteered to join what was called a Field Unit, namely 5022 Squadron belonging to 5357 Wing.

The function of the Field Units was to work on airstrips, either constructing new ones or repairing damaged ones, closely behind the advancing tanks to provide air cover. Most of this work was usually done by the Royal Engineers, but the RAF was anxious to play a part in the campaign as airfield providers as well as users, (I suspect someone was empire building!), so we were to work alongside the RES.

We lived and trained on Elstead Common in Surrey for 3 months in such matters as camp establishment (and living), rapid airstrip construction using BRC and Somerfield track; infantry training (by courtesy of the Canadian 3rd Infantry Division who were, I remember, rather scathing about our efforts), and so on.

By D-Day we were ready to go, but at that stage all we could do was to stand and watch all the endless procession of aircraft, many towing gliders, passing overhead. We also became accustomed to the reverse flow of flying bombs (Doodlebugs) on their way to London. It was very frustrating.

At that time, of course, we knew nothing of “Pegasus” or “Horsa” bridges on 6th June, nor the Merville Battery nor the terrible losses on Omaha Beach. Our Canadian friends had gone, and many of them must no doubt have fallen. We were in the direct command of C.R.E. Second Army and I remember we were all summoned to occasional meetings in Godalming with the Colonel in charge.

Finally, on the 11th July, came the order to move and we all went to Southampton and embarked in a US Navy LST (Landing Ship Tank). We had to chain down all our vehicles, and I remember the problems of organising this (and helping to do it!). When we moved off, we began with a near miss of another ship in Southampton water, but in due course got out in the channel on a zigzag course to avoid torpedoes, part of a huge convoy with Destroyers occasionally firing depth charges on the horizon.

I remember four things about that trip, which was fairly calm. There was a sense of relief at getting away from the continuous drone, (and sudden stopping which prefaced an explosion); of the flying bombs which were being aimed at Southampton; an almost endless game of poker lying off the Normandy coast in the small hours with the steady thunder of guns as a background; the courtesy of the US officers who gave us their cabins; and a conversation with a mystery man whom I now realise, with hindsight, was S.O.E. (Special Operations Executive) who had been parachuted into France many times before D-Day and was now making his first sea trip there.

We landed quite peacefully at 0830hrs on 12th July (D+36) on Juno Beach. I now think we landed in the vicinity of Bernieres-sur-Mer, or Courseilles-sur-Mer, i.e. near the western end of Juno, abutting on Gold Beach, and went along what is now N13 towards Caen, as far as Bretteville l’Orgueilleuse where we turned into a field on the left to make camp, alongside the Canadians.

We had our first baptism of fire at once, with shells (presumably 88mm) falling near us, causing us to take cover, much to the derision of the Canadians, one of whom was then injured by a splinter. The German front line was then in the Southern suburb of Caen, less than 5 miles away, and we were within range of their guns.

We camped, used our 24hr packs of iron rations to feed ourselves, and dug slit trenches along the hedgerows with our tents erected over them. A day or so later, with the never failing ability of the British serviceman to scrounge almost anything, some neatly cut timber, albeit rather heavy, arrived to cover the slit trenches as a protection against “butterfly” bombs which the German FW190’s dropped at night.

Whenever we moved during the Normandy campaign the timber somehow came too, despite the fact that it probably displaced essential tools on the vehicles, and was in direct contravention of the CO’s orders. Somehow he never managed to see it on a truck but it always arrived, much to his chagrin, at our next stop.

During July, the main features were air attacks both during the day and night, (Both bombing and strafing) and our poor efforts to respond in daytime from our LMG emplacements with constantly jamming Bren guns. We were given odd jobs to do first. I remember doing some work, presumably with the RE’s on a strip numbered “B10”. Each strip throughout the campaign had a number, and I remember supervising the movement of some war graves to make way for the next airstrip, which we were to build, called “B19”. Moving graves was a dreadful experience.

At the beginning of August we started on grading and levelling the ground and laying BRC track on B19 at Lingevres. At that stage of the campaign, the German line was probably at the River Orne and/or around Hill 112 about 20km (12 to 13 miles) away from B19 and out of artillery range. I remember being heavily involved in getting hardcore from a ruined village, probably Tilly-sur-Seulles that was nearby. B19 was completed by the 9th August, and Spitfires flew in and landed. However, the airstrip had a short life as the Falaise breakthrough had started on 8th August and the forward movement towards the Low Countries and on to Germany was to begin

So on the 19th August we moved on to Conde-sur-Noireau, south of Caen (bypassing Caen to the south) where the squadrons were to clear roads to let the armour through. I missed this, as I went down with dysentery and I gather it was most unpleasant, with many of the fallen still lying in ditches covered with a few inches of earth, their identity tags hanging from crude wooden stakes at their heads, but not in all cases. I caught up with my unit again at Gace beyond Argentan on 24th August. The battle of Normandy was over, and the great advance was in full swing.

On 26th August we moved again, to Creton south of Evreux and were now almost out of Normandy. The strip we made there was B30 and it was to be used by Typhoons (rocket carrying Fighters designed for anti tank use) commanded by a Group captain Green, a Rhodesian, highly decorated, and whom I met again years later in Rhodesia after the war. We lived in a Chateau in great luxury and I believe it was here that G/C Green told us merely to cut the wheat so that the Typhoons could land on stubble, which they successfully achieved.