Alfred Footman was part of a small advance party of an RAF unit formed and trained to operate in Normandy. With the aid of specially built equipment, they were to assist with the operations of RAF fighters during the early phases of D-Day, particularly the night patrols of Mosquito aircraft. On 3 June, 1944, Alfred and the party were introduced to a man who was to accompany them on their upcoming adventure:
RAF Mosquito with D-Day invasion stripes. ©IWM
“After being incarcerated for a week or so in a camp near Gosport awaiting Le Bombardment, we were introduced by the Wing Commander in charge… to a newcomer, a pilot officer in a brand-new uniform, who was going with. He was about our own age, 20.
“We were all embarked on the Landing Craft Tank (LCT) with vehicles and equipment on Sunday morning, June 4th, and taken to sea, joining long lines of all types of ships and craft of every description. You probably know, of course, that after enduring the force eight seas of Sunday night, we were told on Monday morning that the landing had been put back from Monday 5th to Tuesday 6th.
“During our trip I had become quite friendly with the newcomer, (rank difference between officer and corporal did not seem to matter on the LCT). It transpired that until the previous Saturday evening he had been a civilian, [before being] kitted out in Oxford Street as an RAF officer; this in case he was taken prisoner.
Tanks embark onto an LCT at Gosport, 3 June 1944. ©IWM
“Apparently, some time previously an Army Commando unit had made a special raid on a German unit on the French coast to capture intact and return to the UK a complete radar unit which the Germans had been perfecting there. Our new ‘Pilot Officer’ was one of the ‘backroom boys’ who had since been working on the equipment to adapt it to our use. And he had opted to come with us to see his baby working correctly in the field. However, all this long-winded paraphernalia has been necessary for you to understand the simple little chuckle which follows.
“Imagine the scene, after all our travails: a field in Normandy about 2pm on D-Day, as Corporal in charge of about ten blokes trying to get all the equipment up and operating by the evening, ready for the nighttime patrols due to come over from Tangmere. We approached our new friend and I asked him – as he was the only one who knew anything about the special ‘cheese’ as we called it – whether he would instruct us as to the method of erecting it.
“His reply is indelibly imprinted on my memory: ‘Corporal, as you know, I’m really a civilian, and as a civilian I’m not allowed to give you instructions. You must ask your officer in charge and he will pass on any information to you’.
“Before the war we had all heard or read about civil service and government red tape, but oh brother, on D-Day in a field in Normandy? It released all the tension which had built up over the last few days and we all rolled about on the grass, convulsing with laughter.
“Nevertheless, we laboriously got the equipment know-how from our own officer, who of necessity had to have things explained to him. Even he could not keep a straight face!
“Within a week or two the Pilot Officer was returned by sea to the UK, but in my book he had plenty of bottle to come with us.”
Our thanks to Association member Brian Burns for providing us with Alfred Footman’s original type-written account of this incident, reproduced here for our D-Day red tape.
