Australians in the Battle of Britain. 16 October 1940. John Crossman

Australians in the Battle of Britain. 16 October 1940

More and more often, at the tag end of the Battle of Britain, nothing of any significance was happening. And so I will pause in my narrative to talk a little about the business of death.

When a pilot dies, the telegrams are sent, the CO officially notifies his death to the RAF and—in the event of a land-based death—advises the authorities so a death certificate can be issued, and he writes to the next of kin (or leaves it to the adjutant). The Committee of Adjustment moves in quickly to bundle up his possessions. Another aircraft arrives to replace the damaged or destroyed one and another pilot arrives within days, or perhaps hours, to take his place at table, in the mess and at dispersal. His comrades briefly regret his loss but are inured to it. As Des Sheen said, ‘we all accept that as quite normal really. Way of life’. Life on a busy squadron goes on.

But for the family—even apart from the great grief they are experiencing—life is almost on hold while the death is dealt with on an administrative level.

When John Crossman died in battle on 30 September his family and fiancée were notified, as was his officially nominated next of kin, his aunt Ann Brawn at Chalfont St Giles. She and her husband Will dealt with the officials and organised John’s funeral. Proving how quickly the Committee of Adjustment works, within days of his death, she received: ‘a parcel of photos with receipt September 30th’. John had had these photos taken while at Acklington with 32 Squadron and they proved to be of great comfort to his family and Pat Foley. Those portraits are still treasured.

 

 

(One of the treasured portrait photos of John Crossman)

Ann packaged the photos up in separate parcels to post back to Australia, ensuring the best chance of at least some of them getting through. It was many months, though, before they arrived: Ann still had not heard in February 1941 if her brother had received them.

She also received John’s diary, the one he filled in most nights. She told her brother Ted, John’s father, back in Australia, that:

‘I looked it through but there was nothing of a private nature at the beginning or I should not have read it...I have copied out all the little personal thoughts you would like to know and I must tell you that it is a perfectly happy diary...’.

Such a great comfort to know that John had indeed been happy in his RAF life.

But these were the only personal items that came to Ann and the family for some time. ‘The last of his effects will be sent to us but it will take time as a certain lot of formalities have to be gone through’.

The RAF did not send everything through because they needed undertakings that John—and this applied to every airman—was not in debt, that all his accounts had been paid up and that there were no outstanding financial transactions. If there were, the family had to undertake to pay them. This process took many months.

How difficult was it for families on the other side of the word, relying on mail that took six weeks to arrive, three months for one ‘conversation’, and that assuming both letters reached their destination? The Crossmans were lucky Ann Brawn was on the spot to manage the administration process but it was frustrating, difficult, and time consuming. And not without a touch of the ridiculous: Ann could not settle John’s financial accounts because she did not have all his papers! Even as late as February 1941:

‘I wrote about John’s things but had a reply that they had not yet been released by the Air Ministry so I am still unable to settle anything. There will not be any surplus of money. I wrote the Australian Banking Co for copy of cheques sent by John. There was a balance of some £20 but some small bills. They just gave me the number of his cheques so I must find out if certain bills have been paid.’

One of the most distressing things of the process was the receipt, in April 1941, of an unpaid invoice for John’s coffin. Ann had thought, not unreasonably, that the RAF would pay for their dead airmen’s coffins:

‘Is it customary for the service to charge relatives of one who dies in the service of his country with the cost of his coffin? The amount I know is trivial but the principle to me is ghoulish. In any case it is extraordinary that such an account should only be rendered six months after the expense has been incurred.’

It wasn’t until July 1941 that Ann could send a final statement to her brother of John’s affairs. The business of death over, now they remembered John for the vibrant young man he was. ‘How beautifully John kept everything’, she told her brother.

‘The last day’s entry [in his flying log] tells its story. He went up again after that...He was a very brave lad and we never realise that he is not still alive. You have need to be proud of him as we all are. A clean lad with enthusiasm for his job. Sometimes I wonder if most of the decent ones had to go for it’s a sorry world.’