The below information comes courtesy of the excellent website http://www.ozatwar.com  by Peter Dunn, and was provided by Noel Brettoner who spent countless hours researching the history of the airfield and Captain McIntyre.  Our sincere thanks go out to both people for permission to reproduce that information here.
"McIntyre Field" was established by the USAAF on the NSW/Victoria border, near the Newell Highway. It originally covered an area of about 25 miles square. The RAAF took over the operation of the airfield in 1942 and named it Tocumwal.
The sign at the main entrance to Tocumwal airfield shows the following units were based there at that time:-

• Station Headquarters
  
  
• 82 Wing
  
  
• No. 7 Operational Training Unit
  
  
• No. 7 Aircraft Depot
  
  
• No. 7 Central Recovery Depot
  
  

McIntyre Field was named after Captain Patrick W. McIntyre who was killed in a crash of a US bomber on 5 June 1942. The picture above shows the information of General Order No 19:-


Up to 4,500 RAAF personnel, and 400 WAAAF personnel were based at Tocumwal.Tocumwal was home to up to 54 Liberators, 11 Vultee Vengeance, 5 Kittyhawks and an Airspeed Oxford.
It was also a vast storage and repair depot with aircraft such as Avro Anson, Airacobra, Beaufort, Boeing, Boomerang, Dakota, Hudson, Lancaster, Lincoln, Meteor, Mosquito, Mustang, Spitfire, Beaufighter, Vampire, Winjeel and Wirraway.After the RAAF left Tocumwal in 1960, over 700 aircraft were scrapped through until 1963.Six 39.6 metre timber long span truss roof aircraft hangars. These were the first long span trusses built using timber as tension web members and they remain as the longest clear span triangular timber truss buildings known in Australia. Two similar 29.3 metre hangars were built at Tocumwal. Three of the original hangars can still be seen at Tocumwal.

The crash that killed Captain McIntyre

A unknown US bomber crashed possibly in the Archerfield - Brisbane area on 5 June 1942 killing all those on board. This is the list, though not 100% confirmed.

Captain McIntyre, Patrick W. O-21495 Pilot, Air Corps, HQ 19th Bomber Group Heavy, Fatal.
Second Lieutenant Muckley, Dwight S, Jr., O-398662, Air Corps, 34 Pursuit Squadron?, Fatal.
First Lieutenant Phipps, Tilden. E. Jr., O-355533, Medical Corps, Fatal.
Captain Cone, Richard M., O-250706, 42nd Chemical Laboratory Company, Fatal.
Lysakoski, Henry W., Civilian, Glen Martin Aircraft Company, Fatal.
Marschmer, Edward, Civilian, Glen Martin Aircraft Company, Fatal.
Second Lieutenant Parker, James W., O-385535, Chemical Warfare Service, survived initial crash but subsequently died of wounds on 8 June 1942.

Captain McIntyre, Captain Cone and Mr Lysakoski were re-buried at the Honolulu Memorial, Hawaii.

A First Lieutenant Phipps, Tilden. H. Jr. was buried at the Memorial Cemetery, Oklahoma. Note that although the middle initial is different the date of death is the same - 5 June 1942. Also the Phipps buried at Ipswich US Military Cemetery was a 'H'. It is assumed that there was a mix-up regarding the middle name and that this is the same Phipps that was in the crash on 5 June 1942. These records show him as 'Medical Corps' which is interesting as other records show him as being Air Corps.

The Arlington National Cemetery Web site gives the following information:-

"On May 5, 1942, Muckley, three officers and two civilians were killed "in an airplane accident somewhere in the Far Eastern theater" according to his report of death. The author found that he was killed in a plane crash in Australia, but was unable to determine the crash location. He was initially buried in the American section of Ipswich Cemetery, Brisbane, Australia (Section 1, Block 3, Letter A) on May 9, 1942. Muckley was subsequently reburied in section 12, grave 1776 in Arlington National Cemetery. He was posthumously awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for his actions on February 7, 1942."

It is interesting to note that the above Arlington National Cemetery web site information gives Muckley's date of death as 5 May 1942 and not 5 June 1942 and his burial date as 9 May 1942. The official document below clearly shows Muckley's date of death as 5 June 1942. The Ipswich City Council Cemetery Records show them dying on 5 June 42. Another possibility for the date mix-up could be that they were killed in May and buried at the Lutwyche Military Cemetery in Brisbane and then reburied at Ipswich US Military Cemetery in June. For example Captain Baron Brodine was killed in a crash at Dinmore on 20 February 1942, and was buried at Lutwyche on 21 February but was then removed from Lutwyche and reburied at Ipswich US Military Cemetery on 25 June 1942. The Americans only used Lutwyche Cemetery for a short while until the Ipswich US Military Cemetery was available. Another possibility with the difference in the dates could be the confusion caused by the different way Americans and Australians show calendar dates. For example Australians would show 5 June 1942 as 5/6/42 whereas Americans would show 5 June 1942 as 6/5/42.

2nd Lt Dwight Muckley ASN#O-398662 was a member of the 34th Pursuit Squadron, 35th Pursuit Group in the Philippines and because he was a pilot without an aircraft, he was evacuated to Australia in late December 1941/early January 1942.  Originally he was in the 20th Pursuit Squadron (Provisional). He left Amberley on the 29 January 1942. Due to the losses both in transit and on arrival, the unit was absorbed by the 17th Pursuit Squadron (Provisional) to make up for their own losses. He became a highly respected member of the 17th Pursuit Squadron (Provisional) in Java. He was awarded one of the seven Distinguish Flying Cross’s to be issued to that Unit in that short and violent campaign. Ironically he was again evacuated back from the war zone to Australia on the 3 March 1942 by 7th /19th Bomb Group B-17E Flying Fortress via Broome/Pearce.

Muckley's Distinguished Flying Cross was awarded posthumously to recognise an incident where Second Lieutenant Muckley and his wingman had attacked a flight of eight Japanese fighters on 7 February 1942 over Bali, Dutch East Indies. Muckley became separated from his wingman during the dogfight. Muckley subsequently noticed that his wingman was being attacked by the Japanese, so he broke off his attack on the Japanese formation and returned to defend his wingman. Muckley's aircraft was heavily damaged in the dogfight, but he was able to land safely.

Second Lieutenant Muckley was initially buried in the American section of Ipswich US Military Cemetery, Ipswich, Australia (Section 1, Block 3, Letter A) on 9 June 1942. Muckley was subsequently reburied in Section 12, Grave 1776 in Arlington National Cemetery. He was posthumously awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for his actions on 7 February 1942. Camp Muckley, a US Military Camp near Archerfield Airfield in Brisbane was named after Second Lieutenant Dwight S. Muckley, Jr.


The Pilot of the aircraft was Lt. Patrick W. McIntyre (0-21495) and his co-pilot was 2nd Lt Dwight Summer Muckley Jnr. (0- 398662). Also on board was a doctor and two representatives from Glenn Martin aviation. There was also two army chemical warfare staff. One of these two personnel apparently lived for a while and died the next day.

Captain Richard Morton Cone, 0250706, of NY, USA was from the 42nd Chemical Laboratory Company (42nd CML Lab Co.). In December 1942, the 42nd Chemical Laboratory Co. was based at Clayfield in Brisbane under the command of Captain H.W. Hillis. Captain Cone and 2nd Lt. Parker were carrying out experiments to determine whether incendiary bombs could be improvised from training bombs, using gasoline thickened with crude rubber as a filling.

No record can be found on this crash. It is believed that McIntyre was from HQ Squadron of the 19th Bomb Group, so was the aircraft a B-17 Flying Fortress perhaps.

This is an extract from the book "Under The Southern Cross : The B-24 Liberator in the South Pacific" by Bob Livingstone (permission kindly granted by the author) and features a story about the destruction of one of the hangars in 1945. There are pictures of this in the Gallery section
A72-4 was operational in time for No.1 Liberator Course which commenced in April 1944.  The log book of Keith Crisp (gunner) shows eleven flights in A72-7 and A72-8 between 17 April and 26 April - familiarization flying in the Tocumwal area - before a one hour flight in A72-4 on 28 April.  In late August or early September, A72-4 was taxying for a test flight when a strong smell of petrol was noted by Ron Sawyer, an electrician who often flew when a flight engineer was not available.  He was also an instructor on the electrical equipment on the aircraft (voltage regulator operation etc).  He went aft and discovered a bad leak in a wing tank.




The aircraft was listed U/S immediately, and was placed in Hangar 2 for repairs.  A72-1 was in the hangar at the back, also unserviceable.  On 7 September five of the B-24Ds were discovered to have been sabotaged with the wiring cut behind the instrument panels, probably with a large pair of tin snips.  A twelve day investigation was unable to pinpoint the culprit.  A72-4 and A72-1 were two of the aircraft damaged.  The wire cutting was repeated post-war at Amberley on the Avro Lincolns of 82 Wing RAAF.  This time the culprit, a Leading Aircraftsman fitter 2A, was caught and court martialled.




Repairs to A72-4 were carried out, and on the evening of 2 October 1944 the aircraft was undergoing final engineering tests prior to flight tests next day.  George Hall was Duty Sergeant that night, and was outside the hangar watching the undercarriage retraction tests at around 20.00 or 21.00.  Hall had arrived at Tocumwal just prior to the sabotage, but, because of a shortage of aircraft, his course was unable to fly as scheduled.  Course members were assigned ground duties, which accounted for George being Duty Sergeant that night.  He saw a flash, then a fire in the bomb bay.  Flight Sergeant Jock Main was in charge of the electrical repairs, and had switched on the auxiliary hydraulic pumps which were located near the front of the bomb bay on the starboard side.  A short at the switch ignited the fuel/air mixture in the bomb bay which had accumulated from the leaking tank.  Although he was burned in the fire, Jock’s biggest complaint was that he had to sign his name 27 times on the paperwork explaining the accident!




Tocumwal hangars were built of wood, and attached to hangar No.2 was a paint store which exploded and added to the conflagration.  An Oxford and a Vengeance, the latter usually flown by Wing Commander Brian (Black Jack) Walker, CO of 5 OTU, also at Tocumwal, were parked at the front of the hangar and were pushed clear. A72-10 was slightly damaged while being pushed a little too enthusiastically by the volunteers who rushed from all over the base to help.




Tom Fitzgerald was one:




We had just started the flying part of the course and four of our crews were driven by bus to the Chief Flying Instructor to pick up our Libs and orders when the news erupted.  All the wiring of some Libs had been deliberately cut.  We were the first crew scheduled to fly that morning; nobody knew if any other sabotage had been carried out, so we were told, "Up you go."  If we had no trouble then the other three crews would follow us up.  "Shits were trumps" that morning.




Members of No.4 Liberator Course had completed training and were having their "send off" in the Sergeant's Mess when, about 21.30, they noticed a glow across the "prairie" and knew it was a fire in a hangar.  24 inebriated 19-year old gunners piled into the backs of trucks, carrying plates of savouries, sandwiches and jugs of beer.  A fire was not going to spoil their send off.  They were the first to arrive, pulling clear a Vengeance and two other light aircraft.




The rest of us dived into the hangar salvaging hand tools from the stores sections.  I was second last out of the fire and smoke after about 30 minutes - the SPs and Fire Brigade had arrived and took over outside.  They had our fellows in a bunch and grabbed me and said, "That's it, it's too dangerous to go in again."  I said, "Like hell, my mate's still in there."  They let me go and in I went looking for Sgt Jack Daly.  I found him in between the two burning Libs busting his guts pulling a mobile battery charger.  So Jack and I and the battery charger were the last out.




They pulled the galvanised iron wall off the side of the hangar and rescued hand tools until the SPs ordered them out, whereupon they returned to the Mess, demanded the bar be re-opened, and finished the party.  On parade the next morning the CO berated them for lack of discipline during the course and then, surprisingly, complimented them on their efforts the night before.




Inside my shirt that night were all the tools I needed for my turret, and years later, the ratchet broke on my screwdriver.  I still have that screwdriver today, minus the ratchet.




All that was left the next day was smouldering wreckage and barely enough of A72-1 and A72-4 to recognise.  The remains went to 7CRD on 10 October for conversion to components.  Subsequent rumour had the ignition the result of further sabotage – a detonator placed across the contacts of the undercarriage solenoid which exploded when the undercarriage switch was activated.




Security was tightened after the sabotage, and more guards were on duty.  Civilians had become used to using portions of Tocumwal base as a short cut, and George Hall challenged a bicycle rider who ignored the call.  George raised his .303 rifle and fired a warning shot over the cyclist’s head; the cyclist stopped so fast he went over the handlebars “and made a mess of himself on the bitumen”.

This is a fascinating essay written by Bob Brown from the Museum, and contains a lot of extra info 

BRIEF HISTORY OF TOCUMWAL AERODROME.




CONSTRUCTION.

19th February 1942 - Australia was under attack, with Japan launching the first of 64 air raids on Darwin. Invasion appeared imminent and before the arrival of the American Forces, we were virtually defenceless. It seemed that N-W Australia would have to be sacrificed. In an effort to concentrate our defences in the S-E of the continent, the Brisbane Line strategy was considered, a final defence line drawn between Brisbane and Melbourne. Tocumwal, being right on the Brisbane Line, was selected for a heavy bomber base for the United States Army Air Corps. So great was the emergency, there was no time to give land owners notice. Tocumwal property owners such as the Hawkins, Keough, Hearn, Batters and Thorburn were shocked to be given just 24 hours to vacate
and then see their properties immediately bulldozed. 2700 construction workers of the Allied Works Council began creating the huge airbase and working day and night, had a runway ready for first landings in 5 weeks. They commandeered farm tractors, trucks, horses, anything to frantically complete the task. Over an area of 5,200 acres, they built
4 runways up to 1,850 metres in length, 112 kms of roadways and taxiways, 6.4 kms of branch railway line to a new rail platform on the field, 7 giant hangars to house the big Liberator bombers, 600 other buildings for hangars, workshops, mess halls, sleeping quarters, administration and a 200 bed hospital. In just 16 weeks, after expenditure of A$6 million, they built, in Tocumwal, the largest aerodrome in the southern hemisphere.


AMERICAN OCCUPATION.

On completion of the aerodrome at the end of April 1942, the Americans poured in with all their aircraft and equipment. They named it “McIntyre Field” and established a huge supply and services base ready to back-up combat bases in the north of Australia, preparing for the then expected invasion of the mainland. The air was filled with their B17 Flying Fortresses, Kittyhawks, Airacobras, Vultee Vengeances, Dakotas and on the ground the streets were alive with convoys of military trucks, jeeps, motor-cycle despatch riders and squads of American personnel. Many of those personnel were welcomed into the homes of local residents where they were treated with a taste of home and family life and happily partnered the young ladies of the district to cinemas & dances. But then, on the 8th May 1942, virtually eight days after completion of the aerodrome, everything changed. The battle of the Coral Sea, for the first time, stopped Japan’s southward advance, and with further successes at Midway, Milne Bay and Kokoda, the threat of invasion steadily receded. The American General George C. Kenney commanding Allied Air Forces in the S-W Pacific Area looked at Tocumwal Aerodrome and said – “Mighty fine air base - just shift it 2,000 miles north closer to the enemy” ! Which is exactly what the Americans did, transferring to Queensland and building Garbutt Air Base at Townsville for the next stage of their advance towards Japan. For the remainder of the war, American units rotated through Tocumwal on special training courses in signals, navigation, bombing and gunnery, engine repair and maintenance, a total
of 7,000 American personnel, a major presence in Tocumwal.

AUSTRALIAN OCCUPATION Tocumwal Aerodrome had gone through a frantic construction stage one, a brief American occupation stage two, and in November 1942, it entered its main stage three, with the RAAF taking it over as a giant multi-function depot for aircraft repair and maintenance and training base for recruits, bomber aircrews and paratroopers.

All types of aircraft came in - battered planes from combat zones for urgent repair, new planes ferried in from overseas to be serviced, modified, armed and made fully operational.

54 of the big Liberator bombers were stationed at Tocumwal and they turned out new eleven man crews every eight weeks. Local residents watched the Liberators in mock battles with Kittyhawk fighters, or in gunnery practice with Vultee Vengeances towing drogue targets, and paratroopers jumping from Dakota aircraft. Accidents were inevitable and the Tocumwal Services Cemetery marks the graves of many young men and women who died in training. At its peak in 1944/45, there were 5,000 RAAF personnel on the base, including 400 WAAAF’s, these young girls fulfilling a vital role in the running of the air force. The impact upon the small township of Tocumwal was enormous - the shops and cafes and pubs were inundated. Church congregations swelled to capacity, romances led to weddings. There was entertainment in homes, cinemas and dance halls and cricket, football, tennis and swimming at our famous beaches were all popular forms of recreation. Touring entertainers gave concerts in the giant hangars, even Gracie Fields came to Tocumwal for a sell out performance.

The RAAF stayed at Tocumwal for 18 years, gradually reducing and closing down operations until the final lowering of the RAAF Ensign in October 1960, their departure, for a time,
leaving a huge void in Tocumwal.

This is the story of Tony Tubbenhauer who has been kind enough to write down his history, including his time training pilots at Tocumwal and also how he met his future wife there. Enjoy....


Born in 1921 at Yenda,son of an Anzac farming there,as far back as I can remember I always wanted to fly,saved what I could,took ten shilling joy flights when rarely a plane came to Yenda and landed on
the golf links.There usually was a wait.The crew headed for the pub shortly after landing.To steady their nerves they told us.In the 1940's I got to understand that.  

A few days after war was declared I volunteered for the RAAF.A quiet country kid,how could I hope to become like Smithy and my other heroes of that time so I applied as a gunner.The RAAF then was in chaos I'm not sure it ever got out of.Hearing nothing,when I contacted it they said they'd lost mine and apply again.I did but as pilot.Probably saved my life.A small guy,I'd have been in the gun turret at the arse end of a big bomber and the first the German night fighters took out.I found I was a natural,should have soloed in a Tiger Moth at 4 1/2 hours,bounced the landing,went off at 6.It was on the airfield at Benghazi in 1943 with 500 hours up in single and twin engined planes that someone asked me to drive the truck across it to pick a guy up and I had to tell him 'can't.Never driven.' To which the answer was 'get into the effen
thing' and I had my first and only driving lesson.

I went in on 11.11.40,Armistice Day for The War To End All Wars to the calls of 'you'll be sorry' from 7 Course ahead of us at Bradfield,a Sydney suburb,RAAF number 402895. Then it was Initial Training,Tamworth on Tigers,Amberley on lumbering Ansons,back to Bradfield and on 3.9.41 off to the Middle east on the Queen Mary,now as a pilot officer and a qualified pilot.Revenge was sweet.The drill instructor,Sgt.Bully,yes that was his name,who had given me a hard time,told me I'd not make pilot,had to salute me. 

The Bight turned on a huge storm for us.The Mary took waves over the bow,green.Upstairs about six of
us,appetites sharpened by the salt air,were served by many stewards.Below hundreds of Army guys were hoping to die. 

On 23.9.41 we disembarked at Suez,were bussed to a transit camp near Cairo.A Brit Squadron across the road had been separated from its officers.Would I act as Commanding Officer until they caught up.A
junior pilot officer? Why not.Called a meeting of the NCO's who really ran the show and off we went until their officers showed up. 

27.10.41,in Cairo,boarded an Empire flying boat,two day flight to Kenya following and landing on the Nile,bussed to 70 OTU to convert to Blenheim light bombers.Much adventure there,then on 9.2.42 back to
Egypt.A septic throat had held me back one course,luck again.The course I had been on went to the Western Desert to fly Blenheims which had been proved inadequate over Europe and sent to the Middle East
because there was nothing else.

18.2.42,off to 244 Squadron based at Sharjah at the bottom end of the Persian Gulf by rail through
Palestine to Damascus in Syria,road to Habbaniya 50 miles west of Baghdad where we were to pick up Blenheims and take them to 244.They weren't ready,Communications Flight was short of pilots,they put us to work flying their antiquated machines,all they could get,a wonderful experience for me. 

On 8.4.42 I led the first three Blenheims to Sharjah.Much adventure so far.There we'd take off,climb over the mountains at 7000 feet,drop down to 1000 over the Arabian Sea hunting enemy submarines or escorting convoys bringing American Lend Lease war matereal to Basra to be sent on to Southern Russia.The Blenheims had been thrashed over Europe before we got them and were wornout.Twice I flew several pilots to Wadi Shariah in Palestine to pick up replacement Bisleys which after the war a writer described as 'a truly
dreadful aeroplane.' After we left 244 there were 32 Bisley crashes in two years. 

After Alamein in Egypt the Army was chasing the Germans west before giving them the Big A out of North Africa.Would we not take the six months break instructing in between Squadrons they asked.  Dad had advised me never to volunteer,but then I'd not always taken his advice.Four days after we left Sharjah I was flying Baltimores with 203 Squadron in Egypt.We followed the 8th Army to Benghazi and began roaming the Mediterranean,the southern Adriatic and the Aegean amongst the German-held Greek islands at 150 feet and 250 mph. One plane so the flak from a hundred or so guns enemy was all ours,with Bill or Bob in the top turret banging back with our twin .5's,a bit like farting at thunder.Exciting times. All good things come to an end.On 24.9.42 ,on a trip into the Aegean past eight Greek islands where we had the heaviest flak we'd experienced,after a 6 1/2 hour flight,called to the CO's office he told us we were off ops,that we'd done far more than our share.We didn't argue.By staying alive I was now a Flight Lieutenant.I ferried aircraft for a while then on 28.11.43 moved to 70 OTU in Egypt to cart trainee gunners around.One nearly shot the rudder off,just another brush with death,one of many.


We had to read any notices pinned up in the flight tent.The dust I stirred after reading one would be still settling.It required any pilot wanting to do a flying instructrors course to put his name
down.It,I discovered,was in now Zimababwe. 

On 12.1.44 in a Short Empire flying boat I left Cairo on a four day trip to Durban,followed by a three day train one to Norton to 33 F.I.S. More different planes to fly,the course big on aerobtics.Back in Cairo
and the gunners on 29.3 44.  Then in August,what I'd been waiting for.YOU'RE GOING HOME. 4.8.44 embarked on an slow old Dutch ship and on 10.9.44 got off in Sydney.How wonderful that was.Leave,had a spell in hospital,on 1.12.44 off to 7 OTU at Tocumwal to  use my flying instructors course to teach others to fly Liberators.

My first Lib flight,two hours, was on December 15 with instructor F/Lt Gibbons doing circuits and bumps. The Baltimores,twin engined,much smaller than a Lib had 3600 horsepower.The much bigger four engined Libs had only 5000 and consequently were much less nippy than the Balts.Heavier on the controls too.However,on longer trips we did later,the Libs were more comfortable.The Balts had a suitcase-shaped fuselage and a fighter-sized cockpit.Once strapped in I was there for up to nearly seven hours on some flights.Only way I could relieve the bum numbness was,if high enough,trim the plane to fly straight and level,let go of the controls,grasp the hatch above my head and lift off the seat.In the Libs there was room to walk around.The Libs had an auto pilot and a radio direction-finder I could lock onto a known radio station and sit back and listen to whatever music was playing,letting the Lib fly itself.Even have a cuppa. The Libs were a well built airplane,sluggish but pleasant to fly and the motors reliable. 

After five hours instruction I was back in charge again.Then began flying as an
instructor by day.Night was to come. 

Toc was a big station.So we could get around easier we were issued with bikes. When I rode mine to the flight office for my first flight I noticed several men with their heads in the door of the bus that was to take me and my flight gear to my Lib.Getting on it I found out why.The WAAF driver was blonde with a lovely face and figure to match."WHO IS SHE" I asked someone.To be told "don't waste your time there,you won't do any good." Hmmmm.Always liked a challenge.When we had landed she had tocome  to pick us up. Some time later I'd landed,taxied in,shut down and was waiting for the bus.In the distance beside the hangers it
stood with the usual cluster at its door.We waited and finally decided to walk in lumping our gear.As I passed the bus I gave her a big glare. Parachute returned,I jumped on my bike and headed for my room.The bus followed me,she got out to apologise,hadn't seen me come in.There would be no better time,I asked her out and began a love affair that lasted until her death 61 years later.

On a hot summer night the Libs seemed to take forever to reach takeoff speed. Sitting in the righthand seat,after the four throttles were fully opened on takeoff I'd be keeping an eye on everything including the
pupil for I had no idea how good or bad he was.I'd hold the four throttles open and call the airspeed to him.It seemed to stick at 80 knots,the end of the strip was coming up fast,we were below takeoff speed,I can still see the red light on a building near the strip's end getting bigger and bigger.Somehow we always made it. 

Then there was the night,it was closed camp,nobody allowed out, that a pupil came in too low,took his brakelines off on a treetop,landed on a strip pointing right into the centre of the camp,no brakes,the only thing that saved mass deaths was a gully that stopped the Lib short of the huts.

We never knew the quality of the pilots we were instructing.Put yourself in my Lib,standing behind me,watching.White-knuckled.We are doing night circuits and bumps with a new pilot.It's a black night.Below us the camp,trying to sleep over our noise,is lit,looks good.My lovely Kath is down there somewhere.I'm in the righthand seat keeping an eye on the pupil.He's already made several good landings.We're sliding down the slope on final.The flare path is dead ahead,our landing lights are on.The nose wheel on this machine is slow to come down and lock.As usual the flight engineer nips down a set of
steps beside me to where he can see that it is locked.He'll bob up and give me thumbs up when it is.I'm waiting.Something makes me look up and out.Brightly lit, not far ahead and higher than we are is a dead
tree.We're almost on the ground but still far off the end of the strip.I grab the four throttles,slam them forward,back-stick,we barely clear the topmost branches as the tree flashes past under us.Somehow the motors had responded and we'd been above stall speed.Just.Not the kind of thing to do in a big airplane.I slam the Lib down,brake to a stop.Sit shaking.The pupil's face is white."WHY" I ask. "Don't know,just froze" he replies.Smoking was allowed on the ground.Can I,he asks.Yes.He pulls out a pack,lights one,takes two puffs,out of the window with it .By the time we were ready for another takeoff he's got rid of most of the pack.Instructing could be as dangerous as operations.Another night a flyingboat pilot tried to land us on the
Murray instead of the strip.An exciting life while it lasted. 


There'd been a Peeping Tom around the WAAF huts.At night men were forbidden to be on that side of the road which presented a problem if you wanted to talk to your lady.It was alright for the girls to cross
the road.The solution? Someone,I suspect the girls because the pile never got smaller,had stacked empty tins under a big tree across from their hut.You wanted to talk to your lady you selected a good throwing-tin,skied it across the road so that it rattled down the tin roof.A head popped out of a window yelling 'who do you want.' With hundreds of men and few girls the competition was keen. One night the
answer out of the night,ANYONE.

The bright lights of Tocumwal were not all that bright.I remember the dances,very popular.Dancing,I'd always had two left feet but because I was in full court at that time I took Kath.I remember the night we had dinner in a cafe,nine of us,ordering nine steaks and fiftyfour eggs.And after a party in the mess,several of us guys riding around in the dark on the parade ground,starkers.Probably have been shot at dawn if the 
CO had come past. 

Kath,being a transport driver,liable to be called out at any hour,had access to the kitchen.Popular with the cooks,she was given slabs of steak for us to cook on the fires we lit at night on the beach which was only a short walk away from the camp. One night,out of the dark there came some impassioned and a bit rude
words.Another voice piped up 'go easy mate,I've got a lady here.' The reply set us laughing.'What the hell do you think I have here,a bloody seagull.' 

The war was now going in our favour but there was still much to do in Europe and the Japs to finish off.We kept busy by night and day.My log book shows I was teaching pilots from Flight Sergeant to Wing Commander the mysteries of the Liberator,even did a special flight for Fox Movietone including mock attacks by a Kittihawk fighter group.Sometimes we landed at Ballarat,overnighted,even at Laverton On March 23 off we went to Sydney on a V Loan Flyover,massed Liberators,me sitting back listening to  the music of  a Sydney radio station,the radio direction finder tuned to it,the auto pilot flying the machine.Wow,what a way to fight a war. 

We'd managed leave together,gone to Melbourne,I'd met Kath's parents,we'd become engaged.Which,at Toc,brought up a problem.Bad for discipline Old Boy to have a WAAF and a Flight Lieut walk out of the gate arm in arm.Behind a building,screened by shrubbery,there was a big hole in the fence everybody used.We could have used that too but I said 'bugger it.Not my style' and went to the CO and got a chit to say it was ok for us to walk out together.He did have rather a sloppy grin on his dial as he signed it. How disappointing,we were never challenged at the guardpost. I have always wondered,was this the reason for what followed or was the CO being compassionate.

Late April,called to the office,I was told I was being detached to 1APU,the test pilots unit,at Laverton to do a special job.Kath had been released from the WAAF and we were to be married in July.She with her mother in Melbourne.  The job? The war was racing to it's end.Of course we didn't know then that two big bangs in Japan would finish it off in style and suddenly.I suspect someone had over-ordered bombs,that there was a surplus that I was to cart down to Bass Strait and from assorted
altitudes,using radar to aim,unload them on a poor defenceless rock,of course photographing the strikes to see how accurate radar bombing was. Hmmm.How often do you get 10,000 feet clear visibility in Bass Strait in mid winter?  We'd married,had found a small flat which thanks to Kath's brother we'd nearly been booted out of.He was a policeman.Walking back to the flat, a police car suddenly screeched to a stop beside us,two cops jumped out,laughing their damned heads off,grabbed us,away we went to the flat with the siren going.That took some explaining to the landlady.The lovely RAAF allowed me to live out,collected me in the morning,brought me home.  I'd be taken to my Lib,fire it up,trundle down to the rock,find the area socked in with cloud,unable to photo the strikes,be back in the flat for lunch and cuddles. What a way to fight a war. 

All shipping had been warned to keep clear of the rock.Approaching it we'd be ready for the first drop.One morning,a couple of miles away,a fishing boat was heading towards it.Will we drop the bomb aimer asked.He'd consistently lobbed them close so I replied yes,we'll give them a fright.It was a beautiful day,no wind,sea like glass.The boat showed little wake.No doubt the crew were enjoying the unusual conditions,relaxed.The Lib had a catwalk to the rear gunner's position through the bomb bay.With the bomb doors open all you had below you was lots of space.There were rails.No way was I going to miss what was coming.Leaving the second pilot in charge I went and stood on the catwalk.Holding firmly onto the rails. A 250 pounder dropped past my shoulder,seeming to fall slowly,then speeding up as it neared the sea.It hit near the rock throwing up a huge spray.I could hear the explosion.Down there it must have been deafening.The boat? For moments,no action.Suddenly the wake boiled,it swung 180 degrees and fled for the horizon.Although it wasn't a planing hull I'm sure it was up on the plane. 

All good things must come to an end.I had to leave Kath,go back to Toc. There was a batch of Libs to be picked up in America and flown back.I was told I was going.Then the Shiny Arses who'd been in Oz all the war kicked up a fuss and they were sent.The Yanks let off their big crackers,ending the war  and those who went were the only Oz contingent to march down Broadway in the end of war celebration.Back to Bradfield where it had all begun and out of the gate for the last time on 7.1.46.It was over.  18 different airplanes
flown,singles,twins,fours,flying instructor on twins and fours.Since,six more ,ultralight ,amphibian, floatplane,glider.78 ops flights on two squadrons without taking the break in between.Left footprints in 18 different countries,flew over many where I didn't want to.Came out relatively undamaged.Anyone in 1943 when the flak was flying around me had told me I'd see 2011 I'd have told them they were effen mad. 

But it wasn't finished,not by a long shot.With dive masks bought at the Pyramids Kath and I pioneered at first spearfishing,then when it arrived,scuba and underwater photoing in some exotic locations,retiring after spending four years on Heron Island on the Barrier Reef running the diving operation there and then living in Fiji,Tonga and NZ after we left there,diving their reefs.She died five years ago,I've gone out and found myself another equally good quality lady.IT HAS BEEN A BALL..   Tony.05.03.11

Well here we are at last !  This will hopefully be a spot where we can bring you up to date information, thoughts, etc etc. Keep and eye out over the coming months while we get everything set up.