Handwritten transcriptions

The IBCC Digital Archive is unusual in that its collections are described at item level and sometimes page level, and many are fully transcribed.

It is our aim to transcribe all our oral history interviews and written documents, and so far around one third of the items published in by the IBCC Digital Archive that contain text or spoken word include transcriptions.

This enables users of the archive to use ‘keyword’ or ‘exact match’ searches to find people, places, events, and all manner of things of historical interest far beyond what the cataloguer may have deemed worthy of including in a brief abstract or description of a document.

For example, where names have been written on the reverse of a photograph these will be discoverable through a transcription.

Each of the 81 aircrew in the photograph will now appear in searches of the IBCC Digital Archive.

Letters and telegrams have also been transcribed.

Sergeant Spencer Lewis Belton flew as an observer/ bomb aimer with 144 Squadron from RAF Hemswell. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Medal after an operation to Wilhelmshaven in July 1940. In this letter to his father, he discusses his radio interview with the BBC about his award.

Memoirs have been transcribed.

Betty Bascombe’s memoir includes information about her first husband, Ron Jones, who was killed in action 25 April 1944. Betty met her second husband, Bert Bascombe, when she was serving with the Auxiliary Territorial Service in Hamburg.

Betty Bascombe’s memoir includes information about her first husband, Ron Jones, who was killed in action 25 April 1944. Betty met her second husband, Bert Bascombe, when she was serving with the Auxiliary Territorial Service in Hamburg.

Some service documents have been transcribed.

This page from 44 Squadron’s Operations Order Book lists the duty personnel and crews and aircraft for operations and training for 2/3 June 1944.

As well as military and aviation historians, these transcriptions should make the IBCC Digital Archive of interest for people researching family history, and for social and cultural historians.

This level of detail would not be possible without our teams of dedicated volunteers. All have attended training sessions as it is important that different documents transcribed by different people are transcribed consistently. Training covers how to deal with spelling mistakes, insertions, underlining’s and the like. Some historical knowledge is required to recognise cultural references to people, equipment and events, and faded handwritten documents in 1940s cursive script can be hard to read until you learn to recognise the writer’s individual style. Transcribers can spend a long time trying to decipher a particular word, and they are among the first people to read these documents since the 1940s. Thanks should go to all our transcribers, but particularly to Tricia Marshall who recently transcribed 110 items in one month, and to Anne-Marie Watson who transcribed over 10,000 words over a single weekend.

Log books

Log books record aircrew flying hours, and during the war the RAF produced different types of log books for pilots, for navigators, air bombers and air gunners, and for observers and air gunners. They contain a record of every flight a single person undertook including training and operational flights. Day time flights were usually written in green ink and night time flights in red. Many aircrew numbered their operational flights to keep count of their tour of 30 operations. Although they were an official document, they are frequently annotated with comments such as ‘good prang’ or ‘attacked by night fighter’, and some also now contain photographs and newspaper cuttings.

A page from Leonard Dorricott’s Royal Canadian Air Force observer’s and air gunner’s flying log book from 27 November 1942 to 21 January 1946. It details his training schedule, instructional duties and operations flown. Len Dorricott trained as a navigator in Miami, Florida and completed 32 operations on tours with 460 and 576 Squadrons.

Log books are valuable historical sources and sometime change hands for large sums. However, the content of log books in the IBCC Digital Archive is searchable and available to download for free under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0).

The IBCC Digital Archive has already published over 30 log books, including a South African Air Force log book and several Royal Canadian Air Force books.

We have taken a slightly different approach to how log books have been included in the archive. Rather than transcribing the whole document, which would be very time consuming, they have been ‘data-mined’ for their content. Log books in the archive can be searched for aircraft flown, stations served at, squadrons, targets and operations using tags, keywords, and geolocation.

A page from Peter Bellingham’s log book. His log book covers his training and operational career as a of bomb aimer from 10 March 1943 to 21 February 1946. After training in South Africa he flew in Halifaxes and Stirlings with 138 Squadron, taking part in 30 night operations over Denmark, France, Germany, and Norway before becoming an instructor. As he flew operations with the Special Operations Executive, dropping supplies and agents into occupied Europe, his targets are unspecified. The outcomes are recorded as either as ‘Joy’ or ‘No joy’.

Unlike the majority of scans of historical documents available on the Internet, ours are published with an uninterrupted margin. This margin acts as an integrity check; users can verify for themselves that the scan has not been cropped, even if the original is no longer available for comparison.

Dan Ellin, Archive curator

Alfonsino ‘Angiolino’ Filiputti was born in 1924 at San Giorgio di Nogaro, a small town in the Friuli region of Italy. A promising painter from childhood, Angiolino was initially fascinated by marine subjects but his parents’ financial hardships forced an end to his formal education after completing primary school. Thereafter, he took up painting as an absorbing pastime.

When the war broke out, Angiolino depicted some of the most dramatic and controversial aspects of the conflict in a style characterised by frankness, flat rendering style, bold colours and a rudimentary expression of perspective. Events reported by newspapers, broadcast by the radio or spread by eyewitnesses, became the subject of colourful paintings, in which factual details were embellished by his own rich imaginings and sometimes intertwined with fictional details. Each work was accompanied by long pasted-on captions, so as to create fascinating works in which text and image were inseparable.  Many visual elements of his work alludes to the time-honoured tradition of cantastoria (lit. ‘story-singer’), who would tell stories in public places to whoever gathered around, while gesturing to a series of images produced by the ‘story-singer’ for this purpose.

20 August 1944. Big formations of RAF aircraft en route to Bavarian targets, hindered by batteries based at Grado. San Giorgio di Nogaro, Udine province. Tempera on paper. Four aircraft have been coned by searchlights amidst scattered bursts of shells. The countryside is an indistinct mass of darkness, highlighted by sparse yellow highlights.

20 January 1945. Early night attack on the city centre of Udine, as seen from San Giorgio di Nogaro. Tempera on paper
In striking contrast with the serene and peaceful night sky, the composition is dominated by an ominous yellow glow with red dashed lines of anti-aircraft fire. Ghoulish mulberry trees, a common feature of the Friuli rural landscape, are silhouetted against the fires.

10 November 1944. RAF bombers attack the Latisana Bridge guided by target indicators.
Tempera on paper.
The slow, inexorable descent of target indicators is skilfully contrasted with bursts of the first explosions amongst buildings illuminated by a sinister reddish light. The bridge is merely hinted at, and the Tagliamento river is barely discernible in the bottom right corner.

This corpus is an extraordinary account of how the war was translated into images by a young man of Friuli, who allows us to tap into the popular society of wartime Italy. He explored a broad range of subjects, including the sinking of the SS Conte Rosso by HMS Upholder (P37), the Laconia incident (a series of events surrounding the loss of the eponymous British troopship) and well-known Bomber Command operations such as the bombing of Dresden and the attacks of the Möhne, Eder and Sorpe dams led by Victoria Cross recipient Guy Gibson. Other works focus on Nazi brutalities, the deeds of the resistance movements, as well as civilian life in wartime Europe: bomb disposal units and British evaders being helped by civilians. The emotional intensity of the events depicted emerges strongly from each image, in striking contrast with its simple, unaffected and unsophisticated treatment.  After the war, however, interest in his work declined and Angiolino grew increasingly disenchanted as he lamented the lack of recognition accorded his art, of which he was proud. He died in 1999, resentful and embittered.

The aestheticisation of violence has been the subject of considerable controversy and debate for centuries. On top of that, Angiolino’s art was never intended a mechanical translation of reality into a durable medium – his temperas where intended to engage society and to influence it. For instance he translated into rich images the actions of Partisans, in doing so preserving the memory of the struggle for liberation and protecting it from misrepresentations, downplaying or illegitimate appropriations. The temperas may prompt further exploration of the complexity of our attitudes toward war and conflict and may offer historians and sociologists new perspectives on the meaning of violence in the context of the mass conflicts of the 20th century, indicating that what may be unproblematic in one victorious country was difficult and controversial elsewhere. The collection is probably unique in Italy and there are few comparable examples in other countries in continental Europe.

The IBCC Digital Archive would like to express gratitude to Anna and Stefano Filiputti, the children of Angiolino Filiputti; Alessandra Bertolissi, wife of the late Pierluigi Visintin the art critic who rediscovered Angiolino’s work; and Pietro Del Frate, mayor of San Giorgio di Nogaro, where the temperas are now on permanent display.

Alessandro Pesaro, Digital Archive Developer

Laura Morelli is a contemporary artist who started her journey building relational machines: from deconstructing electronic toys for children to applying robotic technology. Since 2003 she has taken a keen interest in social issues working with people whom she shares the creative process with. In 2006, Laura founded and became president of the cultural association Di +, a charity whose core mission is promoting and delivering relational artistic projects.Laura has been officially invited to visit the IBCC Digital Archive on 5 September 2018, to addend its official launch. The interview was conducted by Alessandro Pesaro.

Laura, when your interest in aerial warfare started?

In 2005 I was shown a photograph taken inside a shelter in Dalmine, a little town in the Bergamo area. That image set something in motion and I soon discovered a host of stories of people who found themselves at the receiving end of the bombing war in Italy. I was instantly fascinated by the memories of bombing survivors in my family and determined to turn them into an art project. Thus “Bunker” was born in 2006.

Was it a one-off experience?

Quite the opposite. Bunker is part of a lifelong interest in some interconnected topics, namely human destructivity, violence, how people cope with suffering and grief, and the transformative power of art. My interest in social exclusion and silenced voices did the rest.

Is there a gender issue in the memorialisation of the bombing war?

Absolutely. While researching the bombing war in the Bergamo area I became aware of an obvious male / female inbalance: the predominant narrative is about male experiences narrated by male voices. Needless to say, women were those who bore the brunt of the war. The impact on their lives was multifarious because they found themselves in different roles: mothers, wives, widows, sisters, housemakers and caregivers. Despite the length and intensity of their suffering, their grieving process remains largely unrecognised.

How did you address this issue?

Contemporary art is all about suggesting new way of thinking, challenge preconceptions, force reflection, disrupt certainties, and explore the contradictions of the contemporary wold. On the other hand, crocheting is a time-honoured traditional craft, imbued with nurturing and protective connotations. Babies’ clothing is traditionally crocheted at home, thus resonating with motherhood, family, new life, and future. On top of that, this is a craft most women are already familiar with, hence regarded as natural and non-intimidating. Here my relational approach to art came into play: working with someone rather than for someone. So, why not crocheting a bomb?

Firstly, we carefully researched Allies’ weaponry. Size and shape of the bombs match those of the actual devices dropped on Italian targets but this was the only constrain: all patterns and textures have been devised by the women involved in the project, who have chosen colours and decorative motifs according to their own taste. Some women started from paper patterns, others used polystyrene templates. The craft is practiced according with the woman’s preferences, someone alone, others else in small groups, by women chit-chatting or simply enjoying each other presence. The rhythm of crocheting is slow as to suggest a thoughtful, healing experience even when the ‘offensive shape’ of a bomb was taking place. Lastly, fibres were impregnated with a synthetic resin strong enough to preserve the shape of the bombs without obscuring their delicate needlework texture. Once the resin has set, the bombs become free-standing structures which can be put on a pedestal or hanged.

Communal crocheting at Scuola della nonna, Bergamo. Photo Giovanni Diffidenti / Di+

A crochet bomb is a subtle visual play and gender allusions are transparent: by using a quintessentially feminine craft, women give shape to an object which has an obvious masculine overtone. Creation and destruction are inextricably intertwined. The delicate, fragile, almost ethereal substance of the bomb contrasts with its heavy metallic substance and ominous shape, the latter universally understood as a symbol of death, suffering and destruction. The result was stunning and the artworks resemble more hot air balloons than bombs. Lightweight and colourful, they suggest playfulness; on the other hand, they can almost be carried away by the same air through which real bombs hissed down in wartime. In this sense, they have a poetic quality.

Crochet bombs on display at Dalmine, Biblioteca Comunale. 2006. Photo: Giovanni Diffidenti / Di+

Installation at Milan Hippodrome. 2014.

What about the women who were involved in the project?

Women came on board for different reasons: some were at the receiving end of the bombing war, others have family ties with survivors, others were keen to explore new ways to reconnect with their past, like the group of nuns belonging to the same religious order which gave shelter to those who were orphaned as consequence of the raids. What struck me most is the fact that all the 70 women who partook in the project showed up at different official openings and took a tremendous sense of pride in their work. People in the 50 to 70 age group do not seem to be the standard patronage of contemporary art exhibitions, but their response was overwhelming and the sense of community palpable.

Where are the crochet bombs now?

After the end of the 2006-2007 delivery phase, some bombs were bought by collectors, other toured various locations, one is on permanent display inside the “Bunker Breda” a network of underground shelters now used as educational facility. In 2016 a group was on temporary display at the Milan Catholic University: bombs were hung inside the university chapel, suspended along the nave as to suggest a descending line toward the altar. Putting the bombs on display inside a Catholic church amplified the message of the installation and added a new dimension to it, especially at a juncture when catholic priests were killed by terrorists.

Installation at Milan Catholic University. 2016. Photo: Mattia Rubino

Bombs are currently on the display at the “CONTEXTO” collective art exhibition (Edolo, 14 July – 9 September).

A final thought, please…

Silence is rooted in many reasons: art can find the right words to say it.

Alessandro Pesaro, Digital Archive Developer

Earlier this year, Helga Wynne visited the IBCC. When staff heard her story, they persuaded her to be interviewed for the IBCC Digital Archive.

Helga was born in 1926 in Kiel, Germany. At age 14, she started work on a farm, but an accident left her with severe injuries. After months of recovery, she became a student nurse at a children’s hospital in Kiel. During an air raid, she was buried in rubble and survived only because of the determined efforts of fellow students to dig her out.

She became engaged to a German submariner in Kiel. The train on which they were travelling to his home in Westphalia for their marriage was strafed and her fiancé was killed. Of this tragedy, she remarked, ‘you just cope when you are young’.

In 1947, Helga met Harold Wynne, a British paramedic on national service, at a dance in Kiel. Harold brought her to live in the UK in 1948 and they were married in Burton upon Stather church, near Scunthorpe. Harold’s family adored her. Apart from being homesick at times, her life was very happy. Altogether she was mother to four sons and now has six great grandchildren.

Since Harold’s death in 2000, his lifelong friend Graham Atkinson has been Helga’s companion. Gordon remembers standing outside during the war to watch the bomber streams departing, and many limping home on less than four engines. One of his relatives, Arthur Leslie Horton, served in the RCAF at RAF Linton-on-Ouse and was killed in action in 1944.

Both Gordon and Helga were deeply moved by the exhibition at the IBCC – ‘it brought back many memories’, said Helga. Their story seems a living embodiment of the IBCC’s values: as Helga noted, ‘no matter what country you came from, all these young men had mothers’.

Harry Thomas Ansell’s logbook showing daylight operation to Caen.

As well as the RAF 100 celebrations and flypast, this month includes the 74th anniversary of Operation Goodwood, part of the battle of Caen. Throughout July 1944, Bomber Command carried out numerous tactical operations in support of Allied troops in Normandy after D-Day, targeting transport networks and troop concentrations.

Northern and central Caen was badly damaged on 7 July 1944 by almost 500 aircraft attacking German troop positions north of the city, and on 18 July 1944 villages east of Caen were bombed by over 900 Bomber Command aircraft in support of Operation Goodwood. Seven aircraft were lost with 24 aircrew killed on this operation. Most of the French population had already left the city but several hundred of those who remained were killed and much of the city was destroyed.

Target photograph of Caen from the Margaret Hourigan collection. Taken on 18 July 1944 by Flight Lieutenant Mouat from 50 Squadron, RAF Skellingthorpe.

Following the IBCC’s aims to promote remembrance, recognition, and reconciliation, the Digital Archive is recording and preserving stories and material about the bombing war from all perspectives. This includes those who flew, served on the ground or were bombed – on both sides of the conflict. We’d be very interested to hear from anyone who witnessed RAF bombing in Germany and occupied Europe. Please contact archive@internationalbcc.co.uk or call (+44) 01522 837707.