USAAF Mitchell Bombers – North Africa. Note bomb bay doors open as result of flak.
In the Radio Operator’s position sits RCAF WAG Dave Fraser.
How did he get there? Read on.
an SP’s nightmare
Veteran and Pals weren’t about to miss Second World War
Jim Farrell – Staff writer email@example.com
Sgt. Dave Fraser and his buddies were definitely out of uniform.
And the British Military policeman looked at the three young flyers as they strolled Cairo’s crowded, smelly and chaotic streets in 1942 and wondered what to do.
The young men’s blue RCAF wedge caps clashed with their U.S. Army Air Corps olive drab pants and shirts and brown American leather flying jackets. The brass letters on their epaulets spelled out “Canada”. American .45 automatic pistols hung from their hips, firearms which would never be carried by Canadian flyers.
“We’d gone AWOL (absent without leave) to fly with the Americans,” says Fraser, now 83 years old and a resident of a West Edmonton seniors complex.
60 years ago, long before the invention of computerized pay systems and paper trails for everyone in uniform, the armed forces operated on an ad hoc basis. Fraser and 29 of his buddies took advantage of that lack of control after spending three-and-a-half months in an Egyptian military camp, forgotten and ignored.
Fraser had marched into a recruiter’s office in Calgary in June 1940, because he wanted action. He hoped to become a pilot but that wasn’t to be. In a manning depot in Moose Jaw, Sask., he’d been arbitrarily assigned to a wireless air gunnery school. He would be a radio operator and gunner in bombers. At least he would fly, he thought.
After completing his training in Canada, he was assigned to a series of camps in Canada, then Bournemouth, England, then Cranwell. “I still hadn’t been assigned to anything,” he says.
In January 1942 he found himself on board the Louis Pasteur, a massive French ocean liner that had been converted to carry 7,000 troops. All he knew was that he and approximately 300 other radio operators were going to Egypt to do some flying. Axis bombers and submarines ruled the Mediterranean, so the ship had to go the long way – around the Southern tip of Africa. Sailing in a 22-ship convoy, the Pasteur needed two months to make the trip. On March 6, 1942, the Pasteur off-loaded its troops at a fly-blown Egyptian portion of the Red Sea.
Fraser and the other radio operators were transported to Kasfereet, a Royal Air Force transit camp 120 kilometres south of Cairo. They spent the next three and one half months in the dull, dusty tent city. They had no prospects and did no training. They were supposed to have served on board bombers being ferried from Europe to Singapore, but Singapore had fallen to the Japanese while the Pasteur was cruising past Madagascar. Now, no one knew what to do with the 300 radio operators.
“We volunteered to do anything – drive trucks, handle supplies, anything,” Fraser said. One by one the radio operators were sent to operational squadrons. Finally only 24 were left in Kasfareet.
“They woke us up one morning at six and told us we would be going to a Canadian squadron,” says Fraser. The men loaded their belongings into a truck, then climbed on board and travelled north along the road that parallels the Suez Canal. When they saw the “Canadian Squadron,” they groaned. It was a Hurricane fighter base, and Hurricanes have only one seat. The truck turned around and was heading back to Kasfareet.
The Canadians spotted another airstrip, this one lined with two-engine American bombers. They asked the driver to take them into the base. He refused. They threw him out of the truck and one of the Canadians got behind the wheel.
“That’s when we met Maj.George Gutru, Commander of the 434th Squadron. He asked us who we were”. They told him they were Canadian wireless air gunners.
“You mean you’re radio operators?” Gutru asked and invited them to lunch. American rations-canned pork and beans, spam, white bread and coffee – were much better than British rations. The Americans had an easy familiarity. Captains and majors chatted like equals with Canadian enlisted men, something that would never happen at a stuffy RAF base.
The Canadians told Gutru about their posting problem and he told them about his problem. American radio operators didn’t know British radio procedures and couldn’t identify themselves to the British. Every time their B-25 Mitchell bombers flew over English guns, Gutru said, the English opened fire on the American planes.
Fraser and his friends knew British radio procedures. Let us fly on your planes, they said. The Americans accepted the offer, and the Canadians moved their gear into the Americans’ tents. The camp was paradise, complete with good food, folding cots, pillows and even mosquito netting – something unknown in Kasfareet.
The Canadians wondered how they would be paid, then worked it out. They had British styled pay books, which showed how much they made and the last time they’d been paid. They realized a quick trip to any British military paymaster would get them their wages, in cash. “So that’s what we did,” said Fraser.
Rommel on the march
The Canadians had chosen a pivotal time to get into the air. A huge British army had gathered in the desert, just west of Cairo, determined to stop Rommel’s advancing Afrika Corps. The battle of El Alamein began on October 23, 1942, and Fraser and his buddies had a front row seat as their planes hammered the Germans. Fraser’s position in the bomber was immediately behind the bomb bay and beneath the top turret gunner. Through his side window, he could watch the action as the battle progressed.
“It was like looking down at a big table top with toy tanks scattered about in the dusty air, trying to get position,” he says.
The Canadians began to take their first loses. “Three bombers with Canadians on board were shot down. One was killed and the other two were captured,” says Fraser.
Throughout the North African campaign, bombers operated between 5,000 and 8,000 feet, an altitude that made the Mitchells easy targets for the German 88-mm anti-aircraft guns. Fraser’s plane took repeated hits. During one flight, the explosion of an 88-mm shell tore a hole in the side of his Mitchell, and the plane’s rubber dingy flew out and wrapped itself around the Mitchell’s tail. The plane made it back to base with the dingy flapping in the wind. Fraser kept a swatch of the life raft’s fabric as a souvenir and it resides in a cardboard box in a closet of his west-side apartment, along side a piece of perspex from the canopy of a Stuka bomber and a piece of plywood from a German military glider.
On April 6, 1943, Fraser’s plane took its heaviest hit when shrapnel from an exploding German shell sliced through its skin. The plane’s instruments and radio stopped working, its hydraulic system was torn to pieces and one of its engines began stuttering. Fraser heard a cry for help. Taking off his parachute, he climbed forward, over the still open bomb bay, and found two crew-members lying on the floor of the aircraft, bleeding and unconscious. He was met by the co-pilot who had come back from the cockpit with the first aid kit. The men’s wounds were sprinkled with sulfa antibiotic powder. They were then bandaged and injected with morphine. Then the co-pilot scrambled back to the cockpit to help fly the plane, which was flying on one engine.
Fraser crawled back to his station. With the hydraulics still out, he and the top gunner had to hand crank the landing gear into position when the plane approached the landing strip. The pilot, Capt. Carl Killian, had to land the plane on two wheels because the German flak had blown out one of its tires.
Dave Fraser today
No time for fear
Fraser can’t remember being afraid at times like that. There wasn’t time to be afraid. “You can’t think about what’s going on,” he says, “you just decide what has to be done and you do it.”
The two wounded men survived, but had to return to the U.S. As the war went on, Fraser’s squadron kept moving forward to new airbases, closer to the retreating Germans. Eventually it moved to Sicily, where Montgomery’s 8th British Army was moving north from Catania toward Messina.
Things just kept getting better for the Canadian radio operators. They told the RAF where they were and with whom they were operating. The British were told that when the Americans were finished with them, they should report back to the nearest RAF base. On the days they weren’t flying, the Canadians would borrow an American jeep, pick up some Canadian nurses from No. 5 General Hospital near Catania and go for a drive in the country. By this time Fraser had acquired a pet, a small white puppy he called “Mugs.”
Mugs flew on seven missions with Fraser, lying on top of his personal towel on the floor of the airplane near the radio operator’s post. On one flight, anti-aircraft fire began shaking the Mitchell, Mugs got up off his towel and walked over to Fraser, his tail wagging. A small piece of shrapnel suddenly burst up through the floor of the plane and tore through the towel. Mugs licked Fraser’s hand, then went back to his now torn-up bedding and lay down again.
In September 1943, Fraser completed 50 missions, a full “tour” for a Mitchell crew man. He adopted out Mugs, packed his bags and headed for Egypt, where he was booked on a troopship back to Canada.
In his luggage was the diary he’d kept throughout his tour of duty – an item normally forbidden by Allied Forces, fearing a captured diary might give the enemy valuable information. Fraser also packed a small Kodak camera he’d carried and used throughout his war, another item that was strictly verbotten.
Leigh Light Wellington 407 Squadron. Note radar pod in nose.
Light dropped down from belly under Letter G.
Similar aircraft used by S/L Taylor for his “Turkey” Op.
This story centres around a very special event
~ Christmas 1944 ~
407 Demon Squadron, RCAF, Chivenor, North Devon, UK
One of our highly esteemed Flight Commanders, S/L Taylor, DFC & Bar, had decided that his guys on 407 were not going to be subjected to Christmas dinner of brussel sprouts, sans turkey, and he was about to do something about it. S/L Taylor was one of the original pilots on 407 Squadron when it was formed at Thorney Island in April 1941. He was one of the few survivors from the “short life expectancy “ era of flying Hudsons on the deadly enemy shipping strikes off the Dutch coast, and also on the first 1000-bomber raids on Germany. Thus he was a highly experienced airman and a force to be reckoned with.
The S/L, having relieved the Station Mess Officer of all “extra messing funds”, contacted an old friend, the messing Officer at RAF Station Limivady where he had once been stationed in Northern Ireland. Could his friend, by any chance, lay his hands on a few turkeys for the lads at Chivenor if he, Taylor, flew up to get them? No problem, how many do you want. (Rationing was not that severe in Ireland)
Ross Hamilton, Sussex, England, Oct. 1944, Age 21
(Stationed at RAF Stn. Ford, carrying out the first
AWAC Development anti buzz-bomb detail)
A couple of hours flying in a Leigh Light Wellington, without the usual crew complement, of course, S/L Taylor landed in Limivady. On arrival he was treated to numerous rounds in the mess by old acquaintances, and a fine “thrash” was soon in the making.
Finally, time to get back to Chivenor. “Messing Officer, are the turkeys ready to go?” “Yes sir, just taxi your aircraft to the other side of the airfield and a farmer will be waiting there with your birds.” The taxing detail was carried out and sure enough, the farmer was there waiting – with some 30 or 40 turkeys. You guessed it, they were all live!
Apparently the flight back to Chivenor was as interesting as any op trip, and one not likely to be experienced again. As related by the S/L, he was flying South East at 178 knots, with the crew of turkeys, airbourne enmass, flying due North at 7 to 10 knots, with numerous circuits in and out of the cockpit. He is still trying to compute the ground speed of both parties.
The grateful Canadians of 407 Chivenor thus were able to enjoy a good old home style Christmas turkey dinner, sans even one brussel sprout – all thanks to one very enterprising and caring Flight Commander who always put his ground crews and aircrews first.
One such practice, and perhaps why many of us are around today – every 407 aircraft that came out of maintenance, and before going back on the line, was thoroughly air-tested by S/L Taylor, always flying solo. Only then would he permit it to be delivered to the flight line.
As for the Wimpy that was borrowed for the Turkey Op., it was put U/S for a few days until the interior could be returned to some semblance of habitation. The guys participating in the cleaning job were amply supplied with beer by the grateful aircrews for as long as it took to complete the job.
S/L Taylor DFC & Bar is a legend unto himself. He resides in Kelowna B.C. and at age 87 (in 1998) was still putting in a 12 hour day at his heavy-construction consulting business. The heavy construction firm he built post-war produced the Trans Canada Highway through the Rockies. His philosophy is simple and to the point, “If you stop using that thing sitting on your shoulders – you lose it.”
S/L Cam Taylor DFC & Bar
F/L Charles Goldhammer, Canadian War Artist.
Original painting hangs in War Museum Ottawa.
Stephen King, Editor
Your Loving Son was launched in Regina, SK
George McGowan King was born 19th. April, 1922. This average Prairie lad worked on a farm, attended school in the local Village of Summerberry, Saskatchewan, enjoyed hunting, socializing, sports, and, on one occasion, being forced to conceal his grades from his parents by shoving his report card down a gopher hole. George joined the RCAF in December 1941 and was killed in action September 23, 1943.
So much for the “thumb nail” sketch of George King’s life and death. However, his nephew, Stephen King, the editor of this book, wanted the world to know the short, but full, story of his Uncle George King. His medium are the letters kept by his Grandmother.
Agnes King kept all the letters her son sent home as well as letters from relatives of the other members of the Stirling bomber crew, from George’s friends, and also correspondence with Military and Government Officials. Combined, they give a detailed account of one airman’s moment with destiny.
Other letters that the editor collected and researched were written by George to his brother Jim, squadron mates, and relatives in England. They will bring back a lot of memories to those who served. For example, George writes to his mother and tells her of a leave spent in London, going to the theatre etc., then he writes to his brother Jim and tells him of the same leave. Quite a contrast! George’s mother was not happy with the relationship that had developed between George and the United Church Minister’s daughter when they were in high school, and continued after George enlisted. His mother’s concern over such matters in the middle of a war amused George.
The letters tell of his training, the crew coming together, his feelings of loyalty to his crew-mates is evident in his letters; “our crew are doing well here, the nicest bunch of guys I ever met. I’d never want to fly with anyone else.” Due to strict censorship there is much inference and innuendo. In a letter to his brother Aug. 21, 1943: “I am at one hell of a nice station now. It is one of those stations where the shit flies at times – you know what I mean. Well, I’ve told Mum I’m still training, so if anything should happen – not that it is at all likely – you could just enlighten her - I wasn’t training when it did.” However George did confide in his mother Sept. 17; “These jobs we do are the ones you hear about over the radio when our night bombers have done something in strong force. I have been to the big place in Germany. As you see, your son does get around.”
George made 9 operational trips over Germany before he was shot down. For many months the crew were reported ‘Missing in Action’. Then word came through the Red Cross that the tail gunner was a prisoner of war. This caused a great flow of hope to prevail. A few months later the Official message read, ‘ Missing in Action – Presumed Dead’. Weeks later the relatives received the much feared telegram, “Killed in Action”. It took until 1954 for them to receive official confirmation as to the actual site where George was resting. Today I guess one would refer to this as “Closure”.
This book of letters which was put together with much love, research, and documentation, gives the reader an emotional “grass roots” insight into war from the perspective of relatives, Squadron, crew members, the positive attitudes of the young men who flew, and the trauma and grief experienced by those who are left to mourn.
Stephen King is to be commended on his thorough research and honest presentation.
When a Veteran is asked, “What was it like?” The answer will often be, “You had to be there”. The book YOUR LOVING SON, takes you there.~ Review by John Moyles
by Stephen Scriver
110 pages – soft cover – 8 illustrations
As a boy Stephen Scriver listened to the stories his father, Harry Scriver, told of life on 432 Squadron as an electrician and later on 426 Squadron as Orderly Room Sgt.
During his teaching and writing career Stephen subconsciously retained these stories that finally demanded to be recorded. But what form would best enhance and project the true emotions of the unsung heroes of the Squadrons? After trial and error Stephen came up with blank verse. With this format the book doesn’t speak to you it shouts at you.
From the beginning you are not reading, you are listening to an airman in rumpled battle dress, greasy hands, clutching a mug of tea and a wad, sitting in the shade of the wing, spilling his guts. He bitches about the service, the Pongo types (British Officers); the mess food, the long hours, lack recognition. But as we listen, we hear the positive. The leaves in Leeds and London, pub brawls with the Yanks, time spent with the WAAFs, difficult wartime romances. There are the less talked about memories; Jerry fighters strafing the airdrome, watching a Blenheim, full of bullet holes, limping home from an Op. the shattered nose bubble with the bloodied, unconscious, navigator still hanging from his safety harness, the shot-up, burning Lancaster with full bomb load and the heroic efforts of the Erks to rescue the wounded crew and roll the bombs away from the burning wreck before the whole mess blew.
UNDER THE WINGS gives the reader a vivid insight into life on the Squadron and I challenge you to read a page and NOT reflect for a moment, “Yeah, that reminds me of the time….!” Always evident, that element shared by all, that bond of loyalty and self sacrifice. As Stephen’s Dad summed it up, “ I never had friends like that again.”
This is an excellent book you can read and re-read, getting something more out of it each time. A book to be cherished by any WW11 Commonwealth Air Force’s veteran. Thank you Stephen.~ Review by John Moyles
Hello John and Doreene--
I stumbled on your site looking for information regarding RCAF personnel, machines and training during World War II. I am a granddaughter of an RCAF wireless air gunner, W.O. Arthur Currie Johns of No. 10 North Atlantic Squadron, who crashed outside of Goose Bay, Labrador in February 1944 and was tossed out of the fuselage, landing head-first in a snow bank. He lived, of course, and told those of us in his family many times how lucky he was. Unfortunately, he passed away in 1993 due to cancer.
Now I am writing a novel that incorporates some aspects of this crash and wireless air gunner duty during WWII and am writing to see if any of your readers might be able to provide me with some technical assistance regarding training, duty stations, aspects of the Liberator plane, as well as any memories of that time period that might be helpful to my project. Of course I would be willing to provide credit to the person or persons who advise me. I do want this project to be as historically accurate as possible, even though it is fiction, to honour my grandfather's memory and the others who served in the RCAF.
This is a real book project with real prospects for publishing; I am currently a graduate student at the Iowa Writer's Workshop and have received some interest in publishing this work, so I am most anxious to make sure it is as accurate as possible. If you could pass the word along to anyone who might not mind reading over some of my material, I would be most grateful.
I was so glad to find your site. I thought surely, if there was help anywhere, this would be the place.
Thank you in advance--
Rebecca Johns Trissler
2870 Coral Court #303
Coralville, IA 52241
(Ed. To date Ross Hamilton , Glen Clearwater, and myself, have been in touch with Rebecca. If you have information regarding RCAF wireless air gunner, W.O. Arthur Currie Johns of No. 10 North Atlantic Squadron, or Liberator related, drop Rebecca a line.,)
Dad was at #9 Sdrn. Bella Bella from March 1942 to March 1943.He then went to #163 Sdrn. (sea island?) then to #6 Sdrn. Alliford Bay/Coal Harbour. The pilots he flew with at Bella Bella were Morgan, Matheson, Carpenter, Shaw, Duncan, Farrell, Joseph, Thompson, Decouray, Mcgregor, Campbell, Webster, Ledbetter, Mcnee, Denroche, Hibbart, Prentice, Hildebrand, Gordon, immerley, Cowan, Galloway, Johnson,Donnelly, Hardy, Momcrief, Hunter, Laurence. Man you guys really switched around a lot eh!
One entry for Aug 31/42 shows crash landing of Stranraer #953.
Dad never talked much about those days but I wish he was around so I could show him the picture of Stranraer 937 he flew on, that I found on the web.
(Ed. Any of our Members fly with these types? If so, I’m sure John would like to hear from you.)
Members will recall that in our November 2002 issue mention was made of the Ex- Armourer on #135, and #422 Squadrons, Hal Sisson, and his retirement writing career.
Here are his humorous works to date.
Contact Salal Press
These books would make excellent Christmas gifts for old Curmudgeons like us.
FOR CANADIAN AIRMEN
The coffins of Canadian Airmen
FULL MILITARY HONOURS FOR CANADIAN AIRMEN
Regina Leader Post Nov. 28, 2002
WILNIS, Netherlands (CP) – In the silence after the Last Post, a rooster’s crow brought gentle smiles to those who gathered Wednesday to bury three Canadian Airmen shot down in the Second World War, their remains only recently retrieved from a watery bog nearby.
Hundreds of Dutch people, including school children bearing poppies and carnations, joined Canadian relatives and officials on a frosty morning for the funeral of the airmen who, many believe, spared their community from harm by crashing the burning aircraft away from the buildings.
They were Warrant Officer Robert Moulton, the pilot, Flt.Sgt. Joseph Thibaudeau, and Flt.Sgt. Joseph White, who died May 5, 1943, when their Wellington Bomber was shot down by a Nazi war plane over Wilnis, 18 kilometres south of Amsterdam.
The bomber quickly sank in the marshy lowlands and the whereabouts of those inside remained unclear for almost 60 years. The wreckage was finally recovered this fall and the remains identified. On Wednesday, the small Dutch Reform Church in Wilnis was bursting with 300 people who came to pay respects.
Three coffins, each draped with a Canadian flag and adorned with a dagger, stood in the centre with a military guard until the memorial service began. Homilies and prayers were offered in English, Dutch. Serge April, Canada’s ambassador to the Netherlands, read the poem High Flight by Pilot Officer John G McGee, Jr. Canadian Military personnel serving in Europe served as pall bearers, eight at each coffin. They folded the flags and offered them to the surviving brothers of the three men.
About 100 children from the local Queen Juliana school, poppies on their ski jackets and holding hand-drawn Canadian flags and red and white carnations, quietly lined the street between the church and the cemetery. They marked the way for the cortege led by the piper, Malcolm Burrows, who played “Oft in a Stillie Night”.
Committal services were conducted for each of the men at the cemetery. Wreaths, Dutch tulips and roses covered their caskets. In their final farewell, the younger brothers placed their bare hands on their older brother’s coffin
And from atop the Church steeple, Canadian bugler, Sgt. Steve Champ, played The Last Post. It was followed by a minute of silence, but a local rooster took the opportunity to make himself heard, bringing smiles to most faces before the bugler sounded the Rouse.
A firing party shot three volleys. Four jets of the Royal Dutch Air Force made a fly-past in a diamond formation, National Anthems followed, and then 600 local people quietly walked past the graves.
Joseph Thibaudeau, of St-Eustache, Que., was 21 when he died. Joseph White, also 21, was from Thorold, Ont., and Robert Moulton, 30, from Brockville, Ont. Their next-of-kin flew in for the funeral from Canada, the United States, and Scotland.
Most family members expressed bittersweet emotions. “I am sad, yes, but I am also relieved the state of “not knowing” is finally over,” said Jean-Claude Thibaudeau, 70, Montreal.
He was visibly moved on receiving his brother’s watch, which was sent to Switzerland and restored to near-perfect condition.
DECEMBER 2002 OBITUARY
MITCHELL, J. W. #0728, SASKATOON, SK (BRUNO): Having moved from Bruno, SK to Saskatoon, Jim passed away November 22nd. Enlisted as R129086 and selected for WAG training at #4 W/S Guelph and #6 B/G Mountain View. Received Brevet Dec. 21/42. Arrived Bournemouth May 23/43 and attached to Coastal Command RAF Squadrons #48 and 59 at Gibralter and other bases in North Africa and Bally Kelly in Ireland. Following VE Day he was repatriated to Canada July 16, 1945 where he signed up for service in the Far East, but VJ Day arrived while he was on leave. Received his discharge in September 1945 but re-enlisted in August 1957. Retirement from RCAF came in April 1971. Worked for DND until Base closed.~ C.W. Yule
Lately I have been receiving calls and letters from Members who have just heard about our web page. When we started this monthly Short Bursts page in March 2001, Charley Yule sent out a letter of notification to all members on the list. I guess many did not get the message. Please advise the chaps of the page, if they are not on the net, they most likely have family or friends who are. Tell them most of the back issues are in the archives on the site. Just scroll down to “Archives”.
John and Doreene Moyles
Ste. 233 - 1060 Dorothy St.,
Regina, Sask. S4X 3C5 CANADA
Ph. (306) 949-6112
Southern Ontario Chapter
Royal Canadian Legion
Wilson Branch 527
948 Sheppard Avenue West
We meet the first Wednesday of each month at the Legion hall 1:00 pm.
No meetings July, August, September.
Ken Hill ~ President ~ 905.789.1912
Bill Cockburn ~ Secretary ~ 416.492.1024
Location - Royal Canadian Legion Br.#4 St. James Legion.
Date - Second Thursday of each month.
Time - Luncheon meeting (provide your own lunch).
Contact Member - Charlie Yule Ph. (204) 254-6264.
Location - Lynx Wing Ave. C North, Saskatoon.
Date - Third Monday of the month.
Time - Luncheon meetings.
Contact Member - C.A. "Smokey" Robson Ph. (306) 374-0547.
Northern Alberta Branch
Location - Norwood Branch 178, 11150 – 82 Street, Edmonton, AB
Date - Third Tuesday of each month.
Time - 12:00 hours.
Contact Members - E. H. "Ted" Hackett (780)962-2904
or Sven Jensen (780)465-7344.
Location - Royal Canadian Legion #264
Date: Second Monday of each month.
Time - 11:30 hours.
Contact Member: Dave Biggs Ph: (403)236-7895
or Doug Penny Ph: (403)242-7048.
October meeting time moved to third Monday.
Also there are no meetings in July and August, however, a Barbecue is usually held at Larry Robinson's ranch in Okatoks during that time.
British Columbia Branch
Meeting time and local: 2nd Tuesday of each month at 11:30
send current information regarding
regular meeting places, dates, and Contact Members, to
John and Doreene Moyles,
Members are requested to send their experiences, articles, anecdotes, pictures, etc., to John Moyles and I will forward them to our Web Master in Brandon. Articles and Last Post items will be deleted from the page each month after the designated Member in each region has had an opportunity to copy the material for their Members. Notices of deceased Members are to be sent to Charlie Yule who is still our 'Keeper of the Rolls'. This is your SHORT BURSTS with no printing or mailing costs, and no deadlines! The Brandon Commonwealth Air Training Plan Museum has agreed to host our AG page. However, as it costs the Museum $35.00 per month to maintain the Web Page, it is suggested that each Ex-AG group contribute periodic donations to the Museum to help off-set this expense, and to enhance the work they are doing. We thank our Web Master, Bill Hillman, for his volunteer time and expertise.
Donations can be made directly to:
Box 3, Grp. 520, RR5,
Brandon, MB R7A 5Y5
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