My first memories of my childhood was when I was about three years old and my Father coming home each night with two big horses and a cart.
Each night he would unharness each horse, and Tom my older brother, would climb on the half door of the stable and mount one of the horses. Dad would pick me up and put me on the other and we would ride them around the
field.
At that time we were living in Ballygomartin, a small village to the West of Belfast, where we had a small holding as I remember farm animals being around. There was a farm nearby, and I can remember the Farmer’s son bringing the cows in and he always rode one of the cows like a horse. This cow must have been trained to the saddle otherwise it would not have stood
the weight. In those days cattle were working farm animals and were as good as horses.
We started school together when Tom was 6 and I was 4, and were put in the same class. We were to remain in the same class for the rest of our school days. we had quite a long walk to school and the only thing that I can recall was the Headmaster’s son and Tom deciding to play truant from school. I, of-course, had to go along with it.
The next day we went back to school and I told everybody about our truancy. I remember being in the Headmaster’s study and also getting a beating from Tom and the Headmaster’s son for telling and getting them into trouble. I remember it to this day, so it must have been a severe beating.
Sometime during 1926, the General Strike must have had a detrimental effect on the Heery haulage business, the horses and cart were sold and we moved to Dundonald. Dad was now employed by a Mr Warwick as a farm labourer and a condition of the work was that a cottage (Glen Cottage) was provided. The house had a lot of land and a large river at the bottom of the garden. In the front of the house we grew vegetables and in the back garden we had chickens, ducks and a couple of goats for milk. We were effectively self contained which was just as well given that the nearest shop was nearly three miles away.
We started school at Ballyhackamore in Belfast, where there were two teachers. A young man taught the boys up to 10 and the Headmaster taught the boys between 10 and 14, the age when most children left school. The girls, who were next door, were completely separate and we were not allowed to mix. After about a year, Phil joined us at school to make up the three Heery brothers.
To get to school we had to walk over fields, cross over a river on a plank footbridge and then up a lane unto the road, were there was a two mile
walk to the tram terminus. It was 1/2d ride on the tram and the total journey must have been at least five miles.
It was during the second winter in the Glen Cottage, as far as I can remember, that the river overflowed and the ground floor of the house was completely flooded. I recall we had problems trying to light a fire, because the water was up to the fire grate.
The downstairs floor being earthen, when mixed with water it became mud. After a few days the water level dropped and Tom and I were sent
out to get some green twigs to make brooms to sweep the water and mud out of the house.
I can remember Dad building a fire in the centre of the kitchen floor to dry the house out, the smoke must have gone everywhere. Water had to carried from the river for washing etc, and of-course in the summer, the clothes were washed in the river.
Drinking water was carried in buckets from a well which was quite a
distance away, Tom and I were given this job every morning, before we went to school. In the evening when we came home the three of us had to go out and collect firewood.
In the harvest time, which was mainly during the Summer school holidays, the families of the farm labourers were expected to work in the fields from dawn to dusk. Mr Warwick, who was a business man in Belfast and always drove a big white car, had three cottages, ours and a pair on the hill one field away.
The other cottages were located in the middle of a field without a road up to them. In addition to the families living in the cottages, there were five other single men living in the main farmhouse.
Each harvest the wives of the labourers worked preparing the meals which were served three times a day and were always very good. The farm itself, although owned by Mr Warwick, was run by his daughter-in-law.
It was during this period that Dad received a letter which was very unusual. The letter informed him that his brother Patrick had been killed in an accident in New York.
The year was 1929, Patrick was working as a rigger constructing an overhead railway, when he fell to his death.
Near to where we were living, they started to run the Ulster TT Motor Race. Each morning there were two practice sessions for about six hours, and on the Saturday they had the road race, which was held over a 30 mile course. The roads in Dundonald were closed to traffic during the three days of the racing but we still had to go to school. The TT racing stopped in the mid 1930s, due to a series of serious accidents where a number of people were killed.
When I was about 8 there was a bad out-break of flu. I think I was the only one who didn’t catch it, as I can remember having to fetch the Doctor then get medicines.
After four years or so at the Glen Cottage, there was a disagreement on the farm and Dad got sacked. We were only given a short time to get out and we finished up in a house in a forest outside Bangor. We had to go to new school and Dad got a job in quarry. It was very eerie going through the forest to school as it was always dark.
We didn’t stay there long and moved about 10 miles, closer to Belfast and back to our old school at Ballyhackamore. Our new house was one of a pair of cottages and we had to carry water from a well about a half a mile away. There was a barrel, positioned to catch rain water draining from the roof, so in wet weather we only had to carry drinking water.
When we left the Glen cottage all the animals were sold or left behind. In the next two years we lived in four other houses, maybe because we were unable to pay the rent and had to keep doing “moonlight flits”. This was common practice at the time.
When I was 10, Dad went back to work for Mr Warwick and we moved into one of the houses on the hill, but this time the family were not forced to work on the
farm.
When I was 11 years of age, Mr McBride a dairy farmer, asked Mother if I could work at bottling and delivering the milk in the mornings.
She agreed and I started straight away, working from 5.30am to 10.00am every day, the later school starting time had been agreed with the Headmaster. Each week I received 3 Shillings and 6 Pence, 17.5 pence in todays money, for a 7 day week. The one advantage was that I got my breakfast every morning.
After about a year, Johnny McCartan a cousin of my Mother, came to visit us. As far as I can remember he was married and had a farm about 30 miles away. He was looking for someone to help run the farm and asked if Dad would help look after the pigs and a few sheep.
Right from the start, I was involved in the negotiations, finally agreeing that Dad would be paid 30 Shillings a week (£1.50), and a bonus of 2.1/2d
(1p) for every pig and 1d for every lamb sold. I was the only one that Dad trusted with the dealings as I was quite good at Mathematics.
Mother took care of all the correspondence, but she was weak on Mathematics. Mother wanted Dad to take the job as she had dreams that one day
her cousin would will the farm to her. Ultimately Mother won the day and we moved to the Toye Farm near Killyleagh. It was a nice house and
it was the first one we ever lived in, that had cold water on tap, although the toilet was outside and dry.
As part of the agreement,Tom who was 14 and about to leave school, went to work with McCartan at their other farm near Downpatrick. He was full time as a farm labourer and was paid £1.00 per month plus board and lodgings. I, of-course had to give up my milk job. The farm had a lot buildings divided up into small sties, with a number of pigs in each. I think there must have been over 200 pigs at any one time, with pigs going to market being replaced with
piglets from the other farm.
I started a new School in Killyleagh, which was about 3 miles walk, it was a country school and very different from the previous one.
My siblings and I all had to sit entrance examinations to find out what level we were at, and as I was over 12 I sat for the top class. The Headmaster
had a 14 year old daughter and he and his wife, who was also a teacher, were coaching her for entrance to Grammar School.
I had passed the exam for Grammar School at Ballyhackamore so I was put to study with the girl. However the next two years were a complete waste of time educationally, as I had covered all the work at my previous school.
Back on the farm, Phil and I were unpaid slaves. At lambing time we were out half the night, although Mother reassured us, saying that it would be worth it, since one day the farm would be ours.
When I was approaching 14 I rebelled and told McCartan that if he wanted me to work he should pay me. To my surprise Dad backed me up and for the next few months I kept a low profile.
At 14, I left school and borrowed my Mother’s bike and took the road to Belfast. At every farm I passed I looked for work, I found a job at about 10 miles
distance, it was a dairy farm and they were looking for someone with bottling experience.
My wages were 7 Shillings (35p) a week with dinner thrown in. After a few weeks working from 6am to 6pm six days a week, they decided to give me breakfast as well.
Back on the Toye Farm things were going from bad to worse with McCartan talking about reducing the bonus. Dad was beginning to let things
slide as there were not enough hands to cope.
Instead of agreeing to hire more labour, McCartan started to travel each day from the Downpatrick farm, which was increasing Tom’s workload, he was expected to run the Downpatrick farm on his own.
One Sunday he came home and asked me if there was any work where I was, luckily they were looking for more people for pulling flex on a contract basis for 6 weeks. The money was good and Dad was interested too, so the three of us ended up working together and travelling to work one hour each way. McCartan was not happy with these changes and insisted that we move out of the house at the Toye straight away.
However, under the initial agreement we were allowed one month’s notice and this provided mother with the time to go house hunting. She found the bungalow on the Ballyhanwood Rd back in Dundonald, having electricity,
but no water other than a well in the garden.
So once again were on the move.
Note: Margaret’s recollection and Johnny’s differ here. Margaret states that Dad went back to his job with Mr Warwick, and they moved back to the house they were living in before going to the Toye, then they moved to the bungalow on the Ballyhanwood Rd after Dad left his job with Mr Warwick for the third time.
Back in Dundonald, it was too far to travel to our jobs so the three of us were out of work. After a few days Dad got a job labouring on a building site, Tom got a job in a poultry farm and I got taken on as an apprentice joiner with a small builder who was building four houses.
The houses required foundations about 4m deep, so the builder decided to utilise the deep excavation by having a basement to each house, which added to the
cost.
At that time all the work had to be done by hand, joinery work, excavation work etc, thus the work was very time consuming, a full year. The builder developed a serious cash flow problem, which put him out of business.
My next job was in a Market Garden for an elderly Scottish gent called
Blackwood. He had a market stall in Belfast and I helped him on the stall, because I was good at figures. I also delivered flowers to shops, and
became his “right hand man”.
He liked a drink, and when he found that he could trust me, I was doing a lot of the work while he was drinking. I was there until just before my 18th birthday and earning 25 Shillings a week (£1.25). However, one night Blackwood went out to the pub, and on his way home was knocked down by a car and killed.
His son allowed me to run the Market Garden for a period, and then sold the land to a builder, so I was unemployed again. It was now 1940, the war was into its 10th month, so I went straight to the Recruiting Office and joined the RAF. I was the first person from the Dundonald area to join any of the forces, there were plenty of jobs in the shipyard and aircraft factory in Belfast, for suitable
applicants.
1940-1946
I enlisted in the RAF in May 1940 and two weeks later I was sent a travel warrant for the Friday night boat. I informed my family and a storm erupted, they were very concerned for my safety.
On the boat, there over 100 enlisted RAF personnel with two senior NCO’s in charge of the party. We arrived at Padgate in lancashire at noon on the Saturday and were given the rest of the weekend as free time. On Monday we were given a full medical inspection, followed by an educational examination on the Tuesday.
Your performance in the tests determined what role you were given, with the best being chosen as air Crew, the next being selected as Craftsmen and those of the lowest educational ability worked on general duties such as the kitchens.
I passed on the middle grade. On the Wednesday we took the Oath and received the “Kings Shilling” with the rest of the week being taken up by the issue
of a uniform and learning how to march.
Our rate of pay was 14 shillings (70p) per week but, as there was no conscription in Ireland, you could get extra money by agreeing to having money stopped with this being matched by the RAF up to 7 sillings a week. The following week we were sent to Blackpool where we had two weeks marching in side streets – this being the only instruction we received. Those who were to trained as Airframe Riggers and Engine Fitters were sent to Docking, just outside Weston.
For the next five months we studied both in lectures and in hangers learning the theory of flight and the maintenance of bi-planes. At the end of each month there was an examination, if you failed, you were downgraded to general duties.
At this time, the RAF was still working to a peacetime schedule and when the course was over there was a final exam to determine your rank and payscale.
I passed out as AC1 and received 2 sillings and sixpence (12.5p), making my weekly pay 4 shillings and sixpence (22.5p).
I was then sent to Kirton-in-Linsey, Lincolnshire to join 616 Spitfire Squadron.
This was an auxiliary squadron which started in Yorkshire (weekend
airmen) but had spent some time in France and were down to 50% of strength due to casualities. Off-course, I had been trained on wooden aircraft
covered in fabric with four wings.
When I reported to the Flight Sergeant, he had me in a hanger for the next two months training me on all metal planes with fixed mainframes. The squadron was doing patrol work over the coastal area and we were receiving new aircraft from the factories all the time. There was therefore plenty of work, we were on a seven day working week.
In the early Spring of 1941 the squadron was sent to a new airfield
near Boston, where we remained for a couple of months. Here, we were protecting shipping in the Hull area from German attack.
My next posting was Tangmere in Sussex where I was moved from the hanger and sent to be a rigger on a new aircraft with a new pilot. He was Rhodesian and this was his first posting.
The engine fitter was on his third plane, the other two were lost in action, and he was highly competent at his job, knowing more about Spitfire aircraft than both the pilot and myself.
Whilst we worked as a crew and try to get the plane in as perfect a state as possible, a good pilot will always ask for perfection, to give him the edge when in battle.
We were only at Tangmere for three months before we had to evacuate, because of attention from the Germans, fighters during the day and bombers
at night. We moved about five miles away to a couple of fields and some outbuildings.
Everything was back to basics, getting water from a nearby stream
and cooking and eating outside. At about this time Douglas Bader took over as Wing Commander and things started to move.
We operated as a wing rather than a squadron with three Spitfires always on the ground in order that we could repulse any attack by the Germans. At nights ,we were left alone but as this was Summer with dawn at 4am and darkness not until 11pm, we had very long days with usually about 10 minutes excitement each hour, and the rest boring as we awaited the return of our planes. We remained there untill Autimn 1941, and during that time I had three different pilots and planes.
Whilst there, we were involved in an anti-invasion exercise with the Army. They were acting the part of of the Germans, with their objective to take
over the airfield and ours being to protect our planes.
During the night therefore the Pilot, Rigger and Fitter were told to stay with their planes and to ensure that the Army didn’t succeed in putting a paint mark on the aircraft which would have signified that the plane had been captured.
At that time we had a bossy pilot who insisted that he would sit in the cockpit with us sitting under the wings. The pilot had the first watch and when we woke up the enemy had painted the plane. The pilot had fallen asleep, and didn’t wake to change the watch.
After that experience he wasn’t quite so bossy.
Whilst I was at Wittering I had a 48 hour pass, and decided to go to see a girl I knew in Oldham. I went to the local station and managed to get to Peterborough using a platform ticket, a practice often used by servicemen at the time. However, when I tried to use the trick to get between Peterborough and Manchester, I was caught by the for the railway company, LMS. The normal fine for travelling without a ticket was £5, but the LMS were trying to stop this abuse, and they wanted to make an example of me.
As I would only give my name and number, they couldn’t work out where I got on the train, so they passed me to the Military Police. The MPs let me go after I agreed to pay for the rest of the journey, but they did warn me that I would be hearing from the LMS in due course.
About a month after I got back to my unit, the Flight Commander, Johnny Johnston, (who I next met at Castle Bromwich, Jaguar Plant in 1987) summoned me and informed me that LMS had tracked me down. They wanted to make an example of me and fine me £10, at this stage I was earning about £1 per week.
However, he informed me that I could get away without paying the fine if I volunteered to move to a new unit in Scotland, so far north that no one would be able to track me down.
As I had no other option I accepted, and in December 1941 I was on my way to Abbotinch Airfield, Scotland. In addition to myself two other lads from the squadron joined me, one of whom had won the Military Medal at Tangmere.
When we arrived at the airfield, we met the Squadron Leader, whose name was Atkins a son of Lord Beaverbrook, who had the responsibility for
aircraft production.
He shook hands with us, a very unusual practice for an Officer, and took us in a Bedford Van to our billet (Saint Margaret’s Convent).
He ensured that we were properly settled in and arranged to pick us up the following morning.
During the rest of the day a number of other crew members
arrived including a mixture of Poles and Czechs. The next morning there was a meeting in a hanger and we were informed that Atkins was starting a
completely new unit to operate between Scotland and Norway.
We were to fly old bi-planes with two seats, one for the pilot and the other for the rigger, who was to operate as the air gunner, which was the system used prior to the war. After a month’s training, we started flying sorties over Norway, which was very cold.
The poles and Czechs were completely fearless, taking serious risks, within three months there were only a few of us left. After Atkins was shot down the outfit was disbanded.
It was now the Spring of 1942 and three of us were sent to Birmingham to attend a tyre course at Dunlop, and a welding course in Soho. I was billeted
with a Mr and Mrs Ackland who had three daughters at home and two sons in the Middle East.
We were to spend week at Dunlop and three weeks in Soho, the
latter course was extended to five weeks to cover gas and arc welding techniques. Next, I was sent back to Shrewsbury where there was a pilot flying school were new pilots completed their training.
It was mostly night flying and a lot of the pilots were scared on their first flights, so either a rigger or a fitter would fly with them for the first week. The pilots would pay us 2 Shillings (10p) a night for our help. The top brass frowned on this practice because of a number of crashes which resulted in a loss of trained ground crew , it didn’t seem to matter about the death of a young pilot.
After some time I got fed up with the place and the night work and put in for an overseas posting. In December 1942, I was sent to Blackpool where I received my
overseas medical and kit. I hung around there until the New Year and went to Liverpool to join a big convoy going to North Africa.
About a month later we landed in Algiers and were sent to Maison Blanche, a big airfield which had been a combined civil and military airfield before the war.
There were about 2,000 airforce personnel in the convoy from Britain, (the Fifth Army were going south to Tunis and the Eighth Army were going
north to meet them).
We were met at Maison Blanche by a Wing Commander Whittle, he was working on jet engines at that time, and he told us his aim was to make Algeria self-sufficient in aircraft. The source of these planes were the large number of damaged craft all over the area which were to be collected and taken to a factory previously operated by Renault at Bouefarrie and an airfield 50 miles south of Blida.
After working initially at Maison Blanche I then moved to Boueferrie and Blida, all in all, I was in Algiers for about a year. Whilst at Blida we dropped guns and other provisions to the Yugoslavs, three trips a week using Dakotas.
Whittle’s plans were achieved through a lot of hard work with three shifts a day,
working around the clock, seven days a week. We had a large work force of local labour and also other nationalities including French, Italians and Arabs, some of them had previously been members of their respective air forces. The role of the RAF here was to provide a final inspection.
In early 1944 we were informed that we were to start a Manufacturing Unit near Naples in Italy. The advanced party flew there but the rest of us,
about 100 in total, went by boat.
Those RAF planes that were nearly complete went into the hold of the ship with the remainder being put on the deck. The ship used was an American Liberty Ship which were produced at the rate of one a week during the war. The journey took about a week and we lived on the deck, eating and sleeping.
We quickly had our first plane operational and continued to drop supplies to the Yugoslavians. In 1945, I became a crew member of our spare Dakota and at least once a week we would be off somewhere carrying different officials.
As it was usually an overnight stop we always stayed at the best hotels. In the Spring of 1946, we went to Milan to pick up a table tennis team to play the B.A.O.R. (British Army of the Rhine) in Vienna.
We spent the night in Milan and the following morning we took off, over the Alps. We were freezing with ice forming on the aircraft, so everytime we went over a mountain we had to quickly dive down into a valley to let the ice melt.
At times we didn’t think we would make it. We landed at Swaygat in a gale force wind and damaged the undercarriage. We left the plane and got a bus into Vienna which was about 30 miles away.
Trees and slates were flying all over the road and the windscreen in the front of the bus shattered and so, by the time we reached the International Zone in Vienna, we were freezing.
Luckily, we were staying in a first class hotel and we quickly warmed up. This was to be our home for the next seven weeks, and whilst we were initially given a large bedroom with an adjoining lounge, once our rank was recognised we were moved to a smaller room.
Vienna was ruled by the four powers with five zones: British, French, Russian, American and International which was the centre of the city.
This was my first contact with the Russians and one of the many things I recall is seeing the common Russain soldier with at least six watches on each
arm although only half of which worked.
The public toilets in the Russian zone left an imprint on my memory, they simply didn’t work, perhaps the Russians over taxed them.
Well dressed women would approach us, in the Russian zone, begging us to stay the night in their houses. The reason for this is that, it was anticipated that the Russians would come the next morning, the door should be opened by someone in uniform otherwise any young women in the house would be taken away by the Russians to furnish their brothels.
The first house I stayed in had 15 girls, and when the Russians came in the morning, I went to the door and when the officer saw me we saluted and he went away.
Usually, in the background, there were British, French or American
Military Police, who would offer protection if they were in the area.
During our stay in Vienna, we woke up one Sunday morning to see a Russian tank with it’s gun aimed at our hotel. The senior British officer called
us together to determine what arms we had, but luckily after a few days the Russians retreated.
We found out later that Churchill had made a speech in America that had annoyed the Russians. We originally intended to stay only a few days in Vienna, therefore we only had a basic kit with just our washing and shaving gear.
Whilst some of our crew managed to get a lift back to Italy, I had to stay in Vienna with the plane. So, there I was with only the clothes I was wearing and no means of washing. Luckily, I managed to get hold of a Stores Officer who agreed to issue me with another uniform chargeable on my paybook.
Whenever I could, I would get a lift to the airfield to see if the repairs to the plane had been completed. After a month the plane was working, but then I couldn’t find a pilot with the only ones around being fighter pilots.
On the sixth week, I was informed that a pilot was due to arrive from Italy the following day, so I got the plane fully serviced before he landed.
The pilot was an American Major who turned up in a Piper Cub. I took him to the plane and told him it was ready, except for small problem with the port engine, which in my opinion, would resolve itself once the plane got to full power at the end of the runway.
He obviously didn’t trust me, because all he did was run the engines for a few minutes then got back into his own plane and flew off.
After reporting the incident to the Station Engineer it was clear that everyone wanted to get rid of me, because in a matter of days a full crew arrived and we were on our way to Italy.
On returning to Naples I found out that I should have been on my way back to England two weeks previous.
I was put on the first available train to Calais, then to Dover, straight to Hednesford, where I was demobbed two days later. My service days were over and I was starting three months paid holidays.