Page 25 - July 2019

Another flight took him to a German-held airfield Ashfield and a buddy determined to be in London for VE
within hours of being overrun by a Polish troops
under the First Canadian Army. The German officers
seemed reluctant to surrender to mere aviators,
arguing until Ashfield said, "Major, Hauptman...you
don't have to surrender to us, but tomorrow the 1st
Polish Armored Division will be here and you don't
want to be here' There were about 300 people on
that base; the next day, hardly anybody."
Life in the aftermath of the war was a strange mix of
the challenging and the mundane. 665 Squadron
found itself at Apeldoorn in the Netherlands, where
one of the visitors was the driver to that country's
queen -- "because she liked British beer!" Speaking of
spirits, 665's officers became fond of drinking it in
fine Belgian crystal and, "in the air force style of the
First World War, we never, ever washed it. It went
into the fireplace! There was an official party every
Saturday night -- and an unofficial one every night."
The squadron was quartered in a lock factory that
Ashfield had reconnoitered from the air, then landed
and checked out. "That gave you an idea of the ability
of the Auster...full up, it could take off in 75 yards and
landed in much less." Impressive -- but exceeded by
the personal aircraft of Lt. Gen. Harry Crerar,
commander of the First Canadian Army, which was
also based at Apeldoorn.
It was a Vultee Vigilant, a large lightplane with "lots of
flap and a tremendous amount of wing, and slats",
and flown by an RAF pilot.
"That man could come over in a high wind and just
about hover over the airfield," remembers Ashfield.
"He always made us look so cheap because he hardly
ever turned a wheel."
Day in May 1945.
Armed with two suitcases of booze, they got into an Auster,
flew over the Hook of Holland and then, at 50 feet, over the
North Sea ("with spray on the windshield") to the American
airfield at Colchester, Hantfordshire. "Not a soul around,"
Ashfield remembers. They made their way to the control
tower, "and there wasn't a sober person; in fact there
wasn't a conscious person". They reached Colchester,
boarded a train and headed for a posh hotel in London,
where they announced that Captains Ashfield and his friend
had arrived. Were their rooms ready yet?
The clerk couldn't find their (nonexistent) reservations, so
our heroes demanded the manager.
"He's out," came the reply, whereupon Ashfield,
emboldened, snapped, "We made them with him three
months ago!" This impressive bluff got them fine rooms
from which they immediately began calling friends all over
London.
The British capital that day was, Ashfield said, "something
to behold". Recreational bonfires, a trademark of the
British people, were everywhere.
Ashfield found himself treated to drinks by an AWOL British
paratroop sergeant; nearby a middle aged British woman
was performing a dance that ended with her pulling up her
skirt.
"The lining of her skirt and the pantaloons were all Union
Jacks!"
At one hotel he passed, members of "an American 42-piece
band were playing out of each window -- and they were all
playing together." "Leicester Square and Picadilly Circus
were so full of people that one could be easily picked up by
the sheer force of the crowd and moved several steps."
Back to peacetime soldiering. For example, the German
admiral who had overseen the mining of Dutch waters
agreed to help in their clearing; he had to be transported.
One enterprising Canadian pilot loaded his Auster with
cigarettes and landed in suburban Rotterdam, intending to
sell them to civilians --one of whom protested the high
prices by finding an army provost, who promptly arrested
the pilot.