Chapter one (excerpt)

Chapter 1

Life Before Australia

Let me introduce the protagonist of this story; Don Scotsdon. He entered the world in 1953 as the third child, a homebirth, in Flaxton Road, Plumstead, Woolwich, situated in the South East London area. He was as ugly as any other newborn, depicting a cute uniqueness only a mother could treasure with total gratification. His memories of the five years spent in England were vague and nebulous, but certain events remained embedded in his mind. He would tell of rememberings such as the extremities in weather; freezing snow turning to sludge at winters end and heat-waves in summer. He recalled some good times like going to Ramsgate and Southend with his family and playing with friends next door. Maybe the memories were partly an illusion obtained from assorted stories told by his parents and little from reality but the pictures existing in his young mind were for all good intentions real to him.

His mother told him a story and he told me. His father acquired a broken old car, an ‘Austin Seven’ he thinks, but unsure, and I could not verify the authenticity of the story, nevertheless, his father was good with mechanics so to fix the faulty piston rings he extracted the motor, put it on the kitchen table, repaired it and was delighted he did not have to ride a pushbike to work in the rain again. Naturally his father could not go anywhere without him wanting to tag along; a car in the family was a rarity. One day Don went missing, his parents were concerned greatly and searched the house and surrounds without success, apparently mild panic turned to full-blown hysteria. A ‘Bobby’ walking the beat joined in the search. Hours went by before a very happy family was reunited with their son. It seemed he grew so fond of the car, just as much as his father did, and when the ‘Bobby’ was on the verge of calling reinforcements he found him curled up on the back seat, fast asleep without a care in the world. But this is not yet the time to reminisce about Don’s venial puerilities, let me turn the clock back a few years to around the beginning of WWII before Don was born and his father to be was still an unmarried man, then we will begin the journey forward.

Germany and Italy declared War on France and Britain on June 10, 1940; together they executed the speedy surrender of the French government in a record breaking time of under two weeks on June 22. The German victory left Britain standing alone, so cementing the imminence of operation ‘Alderangriff’, better known as the ‘Battle of Britain’. England’s call to War arrested the imagination of many a young. Don’s father was no different. In civilian life he was a ‘Capstan Operator’, single and free to engross the lure of travel and excitement which warfare so often misrepresents. At the age of twenty one, in 1941, he enlisted in the ‘Royal Air Force’ (RAF) and trained as a ‘Flight Engineer’; serving war- time in various squadrons in England and oversees. His position required him to work on and maintain mission ready the ‘Lancaster’ Bombers.

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