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Jimmie was my big brother. He volunteered for aircrew duties during the war. Dad did not know
Jimmie had forged his birth certificate - until the terrible day in 1951, when my parents travelled
to RAF Martlesham Heath to arrange for their boy's body to be brought home.
The CO said it was tragic for such a fine young man to die at the age of 25. Dad corrected the
CO, and said "He was 24, not 25". Naughty, naughty, Jimmie had forged his certificate.
My brother earned his navigator brevet just as the war was drawing to a close, just too late to
see active service. He took part in the Berlin airlift. In 1951 he volunteered for work at the
Experimental Unit at Martlesham Heath. He and the pilot, Flying Officer Cork, lost their lives on
27th June 1951.
The aircraft was an Avro Athena. The Athena was a tiny prototype of the V-Bomber, but only a third
of the size of the ones eventually made. Martlesham Heath was so terribly secret I never knew much
until last year, and actually talked on the phone with a man who knew Jimmie, and actually used to
service the aircraft that crashed.Through the internet I learnt the full details last year. The man
who gave me the whole story said neither of these two young men knew what was
happening, it all happened so quickly.
It was a terrible tragedy. I am one of the people who rarely get a mention at Remembrance Services.
They talk about wives, mothers, fathers. We the little brothers and sisters are forgotten.
Never mind. Jimmie is a great big happy memory. He was eldest of nine children. I still remember
the joy of his homecomings on leave. Big, tall, blonde, six and a half footer would walk in, pick
up his littlest two sisters, growl like a lion, throw them gently in the air and catch them.
Lots of cuddles, and he would go down the cellar to make toys from bits of scrap.
Without him, my life would have been diminished. Tucked away in a drawer are the two treasures my
mother gave me, a bronze albatross (worn to show Jimmie's status as aircrew), and an RAFVR lapel
badge. Mother said "You will probably be the last person to remember Jimmie, and of all my children
you were the one to follow him into the Air Force. Never forget your brother. He loved all you
little ones. Pass these on, and tell your children about him".
One day my grandson will inherit them. When he is grown up I will tell him about his great uncle,
and I will teach him to be proud of the men and women of this fine country.
I am happy to say that now our parents are dead and gone, Jimmie is at rest right next to his
mother and father, in the town of Batley, West Yorkshire, where I was bred and born.
He was a lovely lad, and at least I had him. That makes me better off than the people who never
knew him.
Submitted to this site by his sister Eileen Richardson