3 September 1939

73 years ago war was declared. What were ‘my’ nine Australians doing on that day?

At 10 a.m. on 3 September 1939, the BBC alerted its listeners to a broadcast of ‘national importance’. Squadron Leader Donaldson of 151 Squadron called his pilots to the mess. Just after 11.15 a.m., they listened to Chamberlain announce that ‘this country is at war with Germany’. With the prime minister’s final words that ‘right will prevail’ ringing in their minds, Squadron Leader Donaldson, Stuart Walch and the pilots of 151 Squadron stood at attention as the National Anthem was played. The notes, however, were drowned out by the sounds of a siren. It was a false alarm, but a strident signal that they were at war.

At Church Fenton, 72 and 64 squadrons also gathered in the mess. Des Sheen recalled that ‘the general reaction was that the waiting was over and we should get on with it.’ Pat Hughes was pleased: ‘It will be an awful crack to start with because all of our chaps here are just sort of waiting now.’ Pat did not fear for the future. He believed that, ‘the chances of living through it are equal anyhow and that is all one can ask after all’.

At Debden, Dick Glyde and 87 Squadron were ‘in rather a daze, as few had had any experience of war, except for what we had read in books’. Dick, like his hero James McCudden, would fly into battle against Germany. Even so, there was a sense of relief that Britain was now committed.

At Portsmouth, Ken Holland received the news of war with some excitement: ‘Up the RAF’. He spent the afternoon hauling sandbags about to help safeguard the Airspeed factory where he was working and studying.

Peter Moore hurried to Oxford’s RAFVR Centre where he was immediately put on standby and told to report fortnightly until he received notice of further training.

After Chamberlain’s announcement, Bill Millington, who was at a training school at Reading, ‘spent the day at the flying field making up for lost time’. When he was released from his training exercises, he and the other officers living at Hawkhurst manor were ‘ordered to stay within call. No lights except in lounge and writing room are permitted.’

No sooner had the strains of the National Anthem faded away when Jack Kennedy raced to his girlfriend’s house. She had been hiding under the stairs, fearful that the sirens heralded a German air raid. Britain may be at war, but now she felt safe in the arms of her handsome Jack.

 

Meanwhile, John Crossman was sailing to the United Kingdom. At 4.15 p.m. ship’s time, John and the other RAF recruits gathered to hear the news that ‘WAR has been declared by Great Britain on Germany.’ John’s reaction was subdued: ‘Should this last any time it seems unlikely that I’ll ever see home again. Still I expect it can’t be helped. A fellow has to realise that.’