As a family, we knew very little of our father's World War II years, except that he had served with the RAF and had been deployed to India and Burma. Not only his family but sadly none of his dear friends or neighbours, who had known him for many years, had any idea that he had worked as ground crew with the 610 (County of Chester) Squadron during the Battle of Britain, had worked tirelessly in India and was involved in the Burma Campaign. He had preferred never to burden others with his experiences. It wasn't until the day of his funeral when solemnly entering the church they saw an RAF flag draped across his coffin. In the congregation, paying their respects were members of 610 (County of Chester) Squadron Association some of whom had served with him, one standing proudly at the front of the church holding the RAF standard. Roy had not only mentally but also physically, packed those memories away, away into his kit bag in a dark corner of the loft in the family home. There it remained, undiscovered for over 55 years until the time came to empty the home prior to sale. My family and I were intrigued, we had no idea where he had served during the six years of war, nor what he had endured and achieved during those long years away from home. He never spoke of the personal deprivation, the tragic loss of friends and colleagues and how very hard he and his fellow airmen had worked in the worst possible conditions and locations. At times, reading this book and viewing his many photographs, it may seem his war was one long holiday. Nothing could be further from the truth, my father had recorded not only the happy times during the war, but also the hardships, of course there would have been restrictions as to where and when he could have taken his camera, but he tried his best!
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