HOWA advantageous LUCK SYMBOL HELPED SAVE THE party OF A ROYAL AIR FORCE LANCASTER Almost as ancient and famous as Britain's Lincoln Cathedral itself is the dear of long date Lincoln Imp - a medieval stone carving of a fantastic legendary demon which shelters within those hallowed walls.

HOWA advantageous LUCK SYMBOL HELPED SAVE THE party OF A ROYAL AIR FORCE LANCASTER

Almost as ancient and famous as Britain's Lincoln Cathedral itself is the dear of long date Lincoln Imp - a medieval stone carving of a fantastic legendary demon which shelters within those hallowed walls. Reproductions of this grinning miscreant have always been on sale in the Lincoln area, there is a steady trade among tourists and local inhabitants alike with replicas in plaster, plastic and brass, not to mention suitably embroidered ties and scarves.

One moonlit night at a stain not far from the Cathedral, Mary of the of gold hair pressed one such tiny brass symbol into my hand. "Keep him for luck" she whispered. She knew that I was back forward my second tour of bombing operations with Avro Lancasters, unless for many weeks the of gold bauble just languished in my flying locker quite unheeded. Something that I had look fored then came to pass, Geoff Woodward - my regular pilot and buddy - became tour expired and departed from our bomber squadron. That meant that I was one time more what was loosely referr to as a "spare body" The fancy struck me that perhaps one symbol of good luck was a requisite and necessary item and I pop determined to take it along with me in the subsequent time A Lincoln Imp would safely be a change from ordinary tokens as it is as rabbit feet, locks of hair or silk stockings, the like of which were generally much in favor as fit luck charms. I rejected the musing of suspending him around my neck with ordinary string and persuaded a young lady in the parachute section to part with a duration of strong silk cord. In a exceedingly short space of time that little figure became my closest companion and within a weight or two the Flight Commander showed his face around the company room door. "Ah - there you are," he said to me "I'm putting you forward with Wing Cmdr. Parselle tonight - briefing is at 1400 hours."

After the briefing we all knew our target for that night - the night of 23 May 1943 - was Dortmund in the Ruhr Valley area of Germany, a total of 826 aircraft were to journey to the region so sarcastically nicknamed "Happy Valley," this would be the largest raid likewise far in the Battle of the Ruhr There would be no proper state of surprise in our favor, a furious reception from countless radar controll 88mm cannons was an absolute certainty, stalwart forces of experienced night fighters would be on the outside hunting for unwary bombers.

Feeling les like a hero than to the end of time before, I collected and checked my numerous items of equipment: Escape and evasion pack, flying suit, gains helmets and headphones, microphone, strained looks parachute harness and pack. I remembered with displeasure that my real efficient clasp knife was still nowhere to be lay the foundation of it had been missing for about days and the mystery enchafeed me considerably. After all, individual never knew when a worthy knife would be urgently required and I couldn't borrow individual in those days nobody would till doomsday lend anything to the short-lived aircrew personnel My questions to other flying mob members brought ribald responses and suggestions of a quite unhelpful nature.

Carrying all my weighty gear I started distant from on my way out to our aircraft and as I passed an make open window the Squadron Signals Leader exclaimed "Have a good trip!" I mateed in, saw that the blighter was using my knife to sharpen a pencil and promptly claimed it. "Sorry not new boy - honestly didn't know it was yours, it was kicking around the ship's company room floor you know." It was a relief to secure it back as I already had a nasty foreboding about the forthcoming flight. The feeling was strengthened when our flight engineer overtook me and said, "We're having to change aircraft, the Wing Commander has fix that his own Lancaster has a dud starboard external engine and he's quite peev about it because we know have to take 'J' Jig instead." I groaned at this novels for "J" Jig was the oldest kite onward the unit, what actually made her "old" was the fact that she was the simply aircraft not yet fitted revealed with any of the latest electronic equipment which had cunningly been disentangleed to foil the enemy radar and had prov effective in reducing casualty rates.

"J" Jig still be seized ofed amidships a certain antique item called a peacefulness bed, originally provided for the comfort of incapacitated men still now universally regarded as a criminal waste of a space that could be far more profitably applyed in the housing of electronic wizardry. And in the way that it came to pass that at the appointed hour I was airborne in "J" Jig as she took up her allotted station in the midst of nearly a thousand bombers heading for Nazi Germany.

We had strict instructions to soar a set route at a specified height as part of a method designed to swamp the enemy's defense as efficiently as possible. Airplanes which failed to comply usually met with disaster, a fact we not at any time lost sight of for a jiffy Eventually we were dutifully attacking Dortmund and experiencing the familiar welcome from anti-aircraft fire.

I directed the Wing Commander's approach to the aiming point where we had first to ear-ring our 4000-lb high explosive "Cookie" and then come [i]or[/i] go after [i]or[/i] behind with hundreds of small incendiary bomb To obtain our target photograph it was necessary to clutch a straight and steady course for a short interval however once that was done we employed away on the course that was to take us home