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Dorothy Emily Stapleton (nee Geater)

My Story.

I was born in a small village in Kent called Appledore but moved to an even smaller village in Essex where I grew up. I must say leaving my village in Oct 1940 to join the RAF was very difficult but I felt I had to do my bit.
I was 18 when I joined and was recruited as a balloon operator. We went to Innsworth in Gloucestershire to be kitted out then on to Morecombe for 6 weeks square bashing. We were out on the sea front in all weathers at 6.30am in shorts and T shirts for our PT!
From there I went to RAF Norton near Sheffield for Balloon training. It was a fairly quiet time there although we had Ack Ack and searchlights as well as the Balloons.
I had to remuster when the UK went on to offensive operations. I changed trades to MT as a driver. I went to RAF Cardington for six weeks. We were mainly driving in the afternoon and in the classroom in the mornings.
I drove three tonners, 30cwt vans 15cwt vans then staff cars. I must have been quite good as after three weeks I had my test and passed I still have my RAF driving licence the Form1629 and hopefully we will be able to attach it to this story.
From there I was posted to RAF Stradishall in 1941 (incidentally one of my sons was also posted there in 1968) as an MT driver. I drove the Aircrew buses 30cwt vans, ambulances and staff cars, whatever was required when on duty. We worked shifts, generally 8am to 8am. That was a long day!
It was at Stradishall that I met lifelong friends Joyce Webster and Doris Lee (Down became her married name). We were inseparable and known as the three Musketeers. I think being thrown together like that was the most wonderful thing and made people make friends so quickly.
Stradishall was 3 group Bomber Command and we had Sterlings there at first. After a while the runway needed repairing so we were posted to RAF Shepherds Grove near Bury St Edmunds in Suffolk. We still had our Sterlings mainly being used at that time for heavy bomber training.
When we went back to Stradishall however we were supplied with Lancasters and became an operational base. Things really started to hot up then with nightly raids over occupied territory for our crews.
My duties then were driving crews to their aircraft and driving the ambulance when needed. I used to sit at the end of the runway with the senior medical officer waiting for the aircraft to return.
We got to know our crews really well and I used to really enjoy our evenings in the NAAFI with them. But it was very distressing when I had to collect some of them in the ambulance after they had been shot up on raids.
There were Australians, New Zealanders, Canadians as well as the British boys and it was heartbreaking that many of them did not return or returned badly mutilated or dead. I suppose thinking back on it now one had to become quite hardened to this constant loss but it saddens me even now to think of those boys who were so young,happy and frightened.
Sometimes I had to drive the bomb tender with coffins on the back for burial at the colonial cemetery in Haverhill. Very sad.
Sometimes aircraft would return badly shot up. We each had a flight to look after. You watched for the numbers as they landed to see if any were missing. If they were the rest of the crews were very upset as they were all great friends. Some of the boys returned with their nerves shot to pieces and I expect for many the rest of their lives were affected.
One of the pilots I looked after was a Squadron Leader from New Zealand. He was so full of fun but a great daredevil. He was shot down and ended up in Stalagluft 3.
There were crashes every day, aircraft flying back from raids would be shot up sometimes having no wheels or parts of their wings missing. They would crash often and catch fire it was horrible. If the weather was bad over their base USAF planes used to land from RAF Honington nearby. This of course was during the daylight raids. Those boys were also extremely brave.
One night that sticks in my memory was when an aircraft got stuck in mud when trying to take off; they were so laden down with bombs that they sometimes could not get off the ground. I sat at the end of the runway all night with lights trained on it while they dug it out before the crews returned from the mission and had to land. It was always a race against time.
I remember seeing the sky full of aircraft all night. It was 6th June 1944. D Day. The start of our fight back and the beginning of the end.
I met my Husband Douglas Stapleton whilst serving at Stradishall. He had also been at Duxford with the fighter boys and was a Sergeant in the fire service. We spent a lot of time together, the ambulance driver and the fireman waiting for aircraft to return and then whatever had to be done.
We married on March 3rd 1945. I stayed in the WAAFs for the remainder of the war but was demobbed in July 1945 as I was pregnant. My first son Christopher was born in March 1946 and his brother Graham in November 1953. My husband stayed in the RAF after the war and was demobbed in 1950 after serving three years in Egypt.
Both my boys went on to join the RAF. Christopher joined as a Boy Entrant and served thirteen and a half years as a Telegraphist. Graham served over five years in Air Traffic Control and did a tour of duty in Northern Ireland.
So you see we became a RAF family.
I don’t regret leaving my sleepy village for the war effort. I am old now but I remember it all as if it were yesterday. Despite the horrors we witnessed the whole event was, in a way, life enhancing.

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