Pilot Officer V. A. Carter

[panta615]

Hi all,

My uncle has written a piece in the Dedham Parish Magazine for their 80th D-Day special. It’s written about his dad, my grandfather, Victor Carter. I had an inclination that he had joined 16 squadron but was never 100% certain. Very proud to say the least.

I thought I’d share.

Enjoy. Dave.

"OK, Arthur? If your parachute is buckled on, we will be off". I was at Biggin Hill aerodrome, south of London sitting in a Mark VIII Spitfire, number MT818, the first to be converted to a two seater. It was the 19th May 2022 and I was realising a dream that started several years previously.
The reason for the flight was to remember and honour my Dad who was a pilot in the RAF during the Battle of Britain and to commemorate what he and the other pilots did for Britain during World War II.
Dad joined the RAFVR as a cadet in 1938 and learned to fly at Gatwick at the weekends, and in the evening twice a week to learn the theoretical side - navigation, meteorology, gunnery etc at a centre in Store Street, London.
He was called up' on the 6th September 1939 as a Pilot Officer three days after the declaration of war and was posted to a centre in Cambridge where he was taught how to salute, march and polish his boots!
The principal theatre for the Battle of Britain was in the south east in the skies over the home counties around London. Dad was posted to 607 Squadron based at Drem in Scotland over which he flew and defended.

Suddenly the world was filled with flames, smoke and noise as 27 litres of Rolls Royce Merlin engine burst into life.
Sitting in the front seat my skipper, Smithy, an ex RAF Tornado pilot and member of the Memorial Flight, flying Spitfires and Hurricanes for display, came over my headphones, "Your Dad would now be checking the oil pressure, magneto output, flaps, etc. prior to take
This, I thought was a considerate gesture. I had explained to him the reason for my flight - to honour my Dad's war efforts. Smithy realised this significance and was helping me to experience some part of Dad's flying routine.
We trundled to the end of the runway and after the "all clear" from the control tower, Smith eased forward the throttle and with an ear shattering roar we took off.
I had invited some old school friends and family members to share the experience and all six of them were already at 5,000 feet in a 'chase' plane over Westerham, Kent waiting for my Spitfire to join them. Three minutes later, Smithy eased the Spitfire alongside the chase plane, first on the port side, and after several minutes then on the starboard side, allowing closeup photos of the Spitfire in flight.
After ten minutes playing with the chase plane, Smithy said "Hold on Arthur, your Dad's going into attack!" and immediately put the Spitfire into a steep dive. I will never forget the thrill of that manoeuvre.
Smithy 'pulledup' the plane and we headed towards Folkestone and Dover, and in particular to Capel-le-Ferne, a site on the White Cliffs above the ports and one of the two memorials in honour of the pilots of the Battle of Britain, the other being on the Embankment in London.

My Dad's name, and one of the 2,936 names on the memorials, was Pilot Officer V.A. Carter.

A voice over the intercom - "Arthur, take the controls". My hand took the control column and suddenly I was flying the 1944 Spitfire. We flew at about 5,000 feet at a speed of 250 knots and for about 15 minutes I was in control.
Despite the controls being light and easy to manoeuvre it made me realise how demanding it must have been for Dad and the others to control the plane, navigate, check instruments and be "on the qui vive" (alert) for enemy aircraft, in all weather conditions and possibly in the dark.
Flying over the Channel Tunnel terminal, Smithy took back the controls and we flew along the White Cliffs and out towards the Channel. I had told Smithy my reason for the flight and he agreed to overfly Capel-le-Ferne and to perform a Victory roll over the memorial in a salute to my Dad.
"Don't forget to to look above your head when we Victory roll if you want to see the memorial as you will be upside down". We flew back towards to the White Cliffs and the plane turned towards the memorial, made obvious by the replicas either of a Spitfire and a Hurricane.
"Here we go Arthur!", and then slowly and gracefully the Spitfire dipped one wing and I was looking up through the Perspex canopy to the memorial.
"Hello Dad", what a moment, one I will never forget.
Smithy then headed back towards
Biggin Hill during which I took the controls again. "Relax Arthur, you are too tense"
"How do you know skipper?"
"The Spit is telling me, I can feel it through its performance."
"Take your hands off the controls, and now look at my hands."
Neither of us had our hands on the controls, the Spitfire was flying itself, it was so well balanced.
At the controls again, I was able to circle around Leeds Castle, admire the building, moat and the grounds, after which we headed back to Biggin Hill. We landed shortly later and taxied back to the hangar.
Back on the ground, I stood back to examine the Spitfire, admiring its slender profile and slim wings and smelling the hot Merlin engine, and thought about R.J. Mitchell, its designer.
After this whole exciting experience, it took me 24 hours to mentally come back down to earth.

Dad spoke little about his wartime experiences, but occasionally, when returning late home after work he would admit that he had being seeing his old girl friends. These were the replica Spitfire and Hurricane sentinels standing guard outside the RAF chapel at Biggin Hill.
Dad flew both. I had the opportunity to fly just one. I realise now why he called them "girlfriends" ... because the Spitfire behaved like a perfect young lady.
As a postscript, John Goldsbrough, our magazine editor found some valuable links to Dad's wartime episode, information about which my sister Jean and I had no knowledge. We have in our possession Dad's RAF logbook, a diary of where he was, planes flown, purpose of the sorties (flights), outcome etc.
From the logbook we know that Dad was posted initially to Drem, East Lothian and that on the 24th June 1942 he escorted a fast warship (HMS Phoebe, a Dido-class light cruiser of the Royal Navy) from Stranraer to Larne in Northern Ireland carrying the King and the Queen on a goodwill visit, Their Majesties returned to Stranraer on June 26th. Dad was 'lead' pilot of a flight of eight spitfires providing aerial cover and protection to Their Majesties.
The logbook continued to provide an almost daily record of his life until the middle of 1944. Then mysteriously the logbook is silent because two of its pages had been cut out. Why?
John's information sourced from The Genealogist website (Royal Air Force Operations Record Books [database online].
The Genealogist.co.uk 2024. Original data:
"AIR 27 Air Ministry and successors:
Operations Record Books, Squadrons" The National Archives), shows that Dad was posted to No. 16 Squadron on Is June 1944.
The Operations book entry for 01/06/1944 - 7 operational sorties were sent out during the day, results were not good, 4 were unsuccessful due to cloud, including a dice. The only local flights made were air tests, the ground crews hard at work bringing the serviceability up to scratch, one new pilot arrived today F/Lt. V.A. Carter, Carter has had some experience in fighter squadrons and should be a useful addition, he is allotted to "g" flight.
No. 16 was reconnaissance squadron based at Northolt, and Dad had been posted there just five days prior to the
'D' Day landings in Normandy.
Were the details that Dad wrote in his logbook about his tasks in photo reconnaissance during the five days prior to the invasion so sensitive that they had to be removed for security reasons? We shall never know, sadly, as Dad passed on 18th August 1991. I wish I had spoken more to my Dad.
On the 6th June this year, it will be the anniversary of that memorable day 80 years ago when 24,000 allied troops landed in Normandy and Operation Overlord, to free Europe from tyranny and oppression commenced.
Let us take a few moments to remember what those brave men and women, from all the armed services achieved for us .... and their sacrifices.

Arthur Carter”

[sandy11]

Thank you so much for posting, really made my day!