Connections: Albany, Georgia Welcomes World War II RAF Pilots

On the rarest of occasions, I have brushed up against historically significant people and events.  Such a time occurred in 1991 when we were invited to attend a reception for Royal Air Force pilots.  Some were veterans of the Battle of Britain (1940), all had been trained in Albany, Georgia. The occasion was the return of British pilots who had trained there fifty years earlier in the lead up to World War II. It was a wonderful evening spent with these still dashing men, all of whom seemed grateful to be honored and modest about their service.

Their story stretched back before the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. Japan’s imperial ambitions and Germany’s rearmament in the thirties had raised the specter of another great war in Europe. Many Americans were eager that we remain isolated and avoid being drawn into such a struggle. Isolationists got legislation through Congress to insure our neutrality. But, as in 1917, events would demand that we at least be prepared for war. When German Panzer units smashed through the Ardennes and devastated the French army, it was obvious that an across- channel naval or air attack on Britain would be next.

President Roosevelt reponded to British pleas for help by leasing over-aged Navy destroyers to Britin. US Army Air Force Major General “Hap” Arnold suggested to the President that perhaps we could skirt the Neutrality Law by arranging for British airmen to train on privately owned airfields in the United States and trained by civilian pilots.  The scheme was put into effect. Ultimately a dozen or so fields were prepared in the Southeast for the purpose of training Brits to fly war planes. Albany, Georgia  was one of the sites chosen and Darr Aero Tech opened as a training facility. This system remained “strictly” civilian (many of the instructors were former military pilots who had served during World War I). Fields were typically located near small cities in the south, close to railroads and far from prying eyes -and reporters, no doubt. These cities were near great open agricultural fields, grasslands or pine forests, reducing the likelihood of civilian injury given the inevitability of crashes.

Most of you will be somewhat familiar with the Battle of Britain, brought on after the collapse of France and after the withdrawal of British troops from the continent in the desperate sealift from Dunkirk. These events have been told and retold in schoolbooks, films and novels, typically focused on Britain’s valiant stand against the German air attacks that followed known as the “Battle of Britain.” (“Never have so many owed so much to so few,” was Winston Churchhill’s famous comment on the battle.)

Every schoolboy of my generation knew what a “Spitfire” fighter plane was and that it was powered by Rolls Royce engines, that fighter pilots most often died in flames from their bullet- ruptured engines and that the German air force foolishly failed to destroy the radar stations the British had erected along their east coast. And, it is an unforgettable fact that airmen who fought on both the Germain and British sides sometimes had attended the same university in England.

Many stories survive of the training mishaps and adventures associated with the British airmen in Albany. The men were trained using bi-wing Stearman biplanes painted a bright yellow. They-the planes- were said to be temperamental and offered challenges, especially for student airmen. One story related to me over dinner told of an airman performing a routine ground-level mock-attack using an old, unpainted shack as his imaginary target. The house stood on open ground near a cotton field and was assumed to be uninhabited. The pilot came in too low and fast and was surprised to see an entire family diving out of doors and windows to avoid the incoming plane. Distracted, he misjudged his elevation, and crashed through the front door of the cabin, stripping the wings and landing gear off as he exited the back door. The pilot miraculously survived but had to endure a verbal lashing, notes on his record and derisive slurs from instructors and trainees for the remainder of his stay in Albany. No mention was made of what happened to the house’s inhabitants.

With traditional southern hospitality, the families in Albany welcomed the British airmen into their homes and churches. These young men were popular.  It is easy to imagine that they were feeling some loneliness and concern about what was happening back at home in England, missing wives and girlfriends, brothers and sisters and enjoyed visits in the homes of local families. And there were occasional rivalries, even street altercations, between the British airmen and the occasional young men from Albany who were eager to demonstrate their own prowess and courage. Still, new friendships were more common than conflicts, I was told, and some Brits found themselves in love with Albany women. Is it any wonder that small town girls -even well-schooled and sophisticated ones- found these newcomers so appealing? Weddings during and after the war attest to the intensity of these relationships.  

In the days after all the speeches and memories shared, after the airmen returned home, we pondered if time would permit their return. Their numbers had declined through the years. There was an afterglow in the community. Older men and women who had been young in the era of Darr Aero Tech spoke nostalgically about the meaning of the visit.

Buried in Albany’s Crownhill Cemetery are the remains of men who had been killed during training at Darr Aero Tech. A monument honoring these airmen was erected there during the 1991 reunion. For years, fresh flowers were left there regularly by a local woman. No one seemed to know if this was evidence of a lost love or friendship, or an expression of gratitude for the wartime sacrifices of these strangers who had come so far from home to learn the art of flying.

The text on the Crownhill stone is long, but at its heart is the sentence “…. they were training to become combat aircraft pilots … to defend our world from the forces of evil that strived mightily to destroy it.”

They also had, in the poet’s words “slipped the surly bonds of earth…and touched the face of God.” I will be eternally grateful that Albany friends included us -ousiders- in the celebration of the return of the British fliers.