We all knew what this mission meant, but none of us said a word less we put the jinx on ourselves and our ship. This would be our last mission, except for Sgt. Davis who had replaced Sgt. Mostyn a while back. This would only be his 18th. But like I said, none of us mentioned it. I knew we were all thinking the same thing. Not only the warm prospect of going back to Canada, but the bitter realization that we could buy it on the last mission just as easy as the first.
Off the ground and winging into the last dim rays of daylight, the crew began to loosen up. Sgt. Latimer told a joke (the one about the farmer's daughter), and the usually tight-lipped Barker started talking about his family's ranch outside of Regina. A few stray burst of flak as we crossed the coast brought us all back to the task at hand.
A streak of flame ahead in the distance signaled a crippled Lanc and the presence of Jerry. The wounded bomber staggered as we neared, the pilot trying hopelessly to maintain altitude. The ship rolled and slipped into the clouds below. Latimer said he recognized it as 'Daily Pint'. He knew a Sergeant named Giddings. Poor bastards. It was only their second mission. Most of 'em probably had not even unpacked.
A 110 tried to bounce us but Latimer was keen as ever. "Not this time *&%#*er" We heard after he alerted us, followed by the blast of his .303s. The Kraut must of been a rookie cause he flew right into it and plunged earthword to become one with the fatherland.
Over the target a 110 got by us and we took hits to the starboard wing and waist. Fortunately nothing fatal. Bomb run was on and I made the quickest turn for home I ever made at the controls of a Lanc.
We managed to lose a pursuing 110 and Saskatoon took us home. It was a if every mile closer to Blighty took another few invisble pounds of the tonne we had all been wearing off. By the time the wheels were down and I made the final approach we were laughing like lunatics.
Request Sergeant Davis be assigned to a veteran crew to complete his tour.
That's it. With the aid of a great crew and Saskatoon, that wonderful bird, we made it through. If you want any of us I suggest not even looking for 48 hours. (24 hours to get roaring soused and another 24 to sober up).
F.A. Collishaw
Pilot Officer, RCAF
314 Squadron