Last summer we went on a cruise and I was told by my wife, in no uncertain terms, that anything to do with Maldon was strictly off limits for the duration.
So I left my laptop at home and only switched my mobile on sparingly (and even then when she wasn’t looking).
Turning to holiday reading, I took with me a copy of Peter Brown’s excellent book RAF Southend 1940-44 (Spellmount 2012) and managed to get it through my 'censor' without any trouble.
As I sprawled out on the deck lounger, sunglasses on, basted in sun cream and with a generous glass of wine in hand, I started to read the book.
It is the story (in chronological order) of the role that today’s London Southend Airport played during the war years, when it was a fighter station known as RAF Southend (having formerly been RAF Rochford).
“It’s good to see you reading about somewhere other than Maldon,” said my wife.
After an hour or so (and in between snoozing) I got to an entry dated July 31, 1943.
It read; “A most unfortunate accident occurred during dogfight practice in the morning, resulting in the loss of Flight Sergeant Barclay and one Hurricane…near Maldon, Essex”.
Suddenly I wasn’t drowsy anymore. “Near Maldon” – where?, I wondered.
And then the penny dropped. The date and the pilot’s name were familiar to me, as I remembered my late father talking to me about witnessing that very same incident.
At the time dad was living at 211 Mundon Road and the crash occurred in the field directly opposite his house, which was then very much on the outskirts of town – hence the “near Maldon”.
He would have been 12, but even in later life he had vivid memories of (according to my notes) “seeing a Hurricane flying low with another aircraft (and) touching bushes… eventually crashing in the middle of the field in a direct line with the bus stop”.
Dad and other residents ran to the wreckage and saw the dead pilot inside the cockpit.
The official services arrived and removed the body of 24-year-old Flight Sergeant Barclay to the mortuary at St Peter’s Hospital.
What was left of the Hurricane was guarded by RAF personnel, who moved people on.
The next day it was taken away on a 'Queen Mary' (a semi-trailer combination designed for the carriage and recovery of aircraft).
All returned to normal – or at least as normal as it could be during the war.
Our holiday over, using dad’s first-hand account as a springboard, I decided to dig a bit deeper.
The Hurricane in question was a Mark IV (serial KZ569), July 31, 1943, was a Saturday and the aircraft came down at 9.45am (some accounts say 9.57am).
Other known eyewitnesses (that I appear to have interviewed) included Mr Mead, who lived next door to dad at 213 Mundon Road and my old Air Training Corps adult Warrant Officer, Jim Simmons, of 57 Cross Road.
But what of the most important person in this tragic story – the pilot, Flight Sergeant Barclay?
Service number 655794, John McGowan Barclay, was a native of Motherwell, Lanarkshire, Scotland. He was born there in 1919 and gave the town as his home address. He trained as a pilot, not on the Hurricane, but the very unusual and almost forgotten Westland Whirlwind – a single-seat, twin-engined, heavy fighter, that first flew in 1938 and was withdrawn from service in 1943.
The only two squadrons that operated Whirlwinds were numbers 137 and 263, and John successively served with both of them.
He was flying Whirlwinds with 137 out of RAF Manston (Kent) in 1942, but on October 9 of that year was posted to 263 Squadron at RAF Warmwell (Dorset) and received a Good Conduct Award on October 19.
An eventual return to 137 (motto - “Do Right, Fear Naught”) meant that he was at RAF Southend in June 1943 when the squadron relinquished their Whirlwinds, but not before he had an accident in one on June 21.
He was unhurt, but the Whirlwind was a write-off.
Having survived that crash, the next day, along with the other pilots, he was sent to the Operational Training Unit at RAF Millfield (Northumberland) for a month’s conversion course on the Hurricane Mk IV.
The training continued on their return to RAF Southend on July 25 and on July 31 John was out as No.1 to P/O Johnstone.
Diving from 2,000ft in order to shake P/O Johnstone off his tail, he could not pull out and hit the ground, his aircraft bursting into flames.
He must have been killed instantly.
The local Civil Defence diary for that day states: “Smashed completely. Fire Brigade and ambulance in attendance.”
John McGowan Barclay now lies in Commonwealth War Grave 25.C.9 at Brookwood Military Cemetery, Surrey – a victim of a tragic flying accident.
It all happened in minutes, but dad never forgot it and, I am told that, 30 years later in 1973, some pieces of the Hurricane turned up during deep ploughing.
Today, now 80 years since the event, most people who live here or who drive along Mundon Road past the site are blissfully unaware of what happened in that field one Saturday morning during the Second World War.
I am pleased I managed to sneak the book onboard the ship and have been able to now tell you about John’s story. Between us we can ensure that he is not forgotten.
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