Interviewed  by  George  Dick  and  tape-recorded  at Mosman  on  9th March 1991.

Before  my enlistment in the Air Force, I had my own business in Mosman dealing with the sales and repair of radio equipment. After I joined up I choofed off down to Laverton and did the usual rookies course for about four weeks, after which I went across to the Signals School at Point Cook.

I was on No 20 Course there, together with John Mason, and Peter Fisken. Warrant Officer Joe Reynolds was the rather horrible character on the staff in those early days. I didn't do a great amount of training there as I was an experienced radio mechanic, and was given the job of designing some aerials for the School's transmitters and installing some of their equipment. Since I wasn't Morse qualified at the time, I had to take on that aspect of the training there.

While I was on the course I asked to become an air observer; so on completion of training at the Signals school and qualifying as a W/T Operator on 26th November 1940, I was sent to No 2 Air Observers School at Cootamundra, where I joined No 7 Observer's Course. We did our day and night air navigation exercises in DH 84 Dragons.  Ted Jones, who later joined No 30 Beaufighter Squadron, was one of the staff pilots at AOS, and I flew with him in New Guinea. At Cootamundra I also flew with Noel Quinn, Sid Brazier and John Smibert, who was the Chief Instructor.

After qualifying as a sergeant Wireless Air Observer on 3rd May 1941, I was sent up to the Northern Territory by sea to join No 12 Squadron, which was then equipped with Wirraways. Col Harvey was already there. I flew with Flight Sergeant Bob Crawford.

At the time of the Japanese air raid in February 1942 the main element of the Squadron was down at Batchelor and we had a flight at the civil drome, where our aircraft were parked under the trees. My washing hanging on the clothes line suffered a few

holes as a result of the enemy's straffing runs. After the raid we went over to the RAAF aerodrome, visited the Sergeants' Mess which we found to be absolutely deserted, and helped ourselves to a few cases of grog. We found an abandoned car in one of the streets and we acquired that for our own use.

After Blackjack was posted south from Darwin, he and John Mason apparently suggested to Air Board that some of the navigators who had been with them in 12 Squadron should go with them to the Beaufighter Squadron which was about to be formed. So, together with John Mason and Peter Fisken, I was posted to 30 Squadron, arriving at Richmond on 8th June 1942.

The Squadron had officially formed in March, but people didn't begin arriving until June. The pilots were busy doing conversions on the dual-controlled Bristol Beaufort and then doing their conversions onto the Beaufighter. During that period, the navigators and the pilots had to sort themselves out into two-man crews who would fly together on operations. Ted Jones and I elected to become a crew — probably because we had known each other before. I think it was Ted who approached me on that score.

I hadn't seen a Beaufighter before arriving at Richmond, but while we were up in Darwin 'Blackjack' had told us about the aircraft and its use in the RAF. We knew we were going to Richmond to join a Beaufighter squadron.

After the pilots had completed their conversion to type the crews were sent up to do cross country exercises, formation flying, gunnery exercises, navigation exercises, as well as night circuits and bumps. My first flight in a BEaufighter was on 8th July 1942.

I was a flight sergeant then and lived in the mess at Richmond during the week. Both of my parents were deceased, my father being killed in World War I, and my mother dying when I was about 14 years old. So I didn't have much occasion to come into Sydney during our week-ends. I probably spent some of that time over at the local pub — the Clarendon Inn, where Ma Tunnel attended to the Bar.

Ted Jones managed to damage a Beaufighter rather badly when we were taking off from Richmond (in A19-7 on 23 July 1942?). We lost an engine and half of a wing.

In August 1942 the Squadron got its orders to move northwards, and most of the groundstaff went to Townsville by train. We took Andy Herron and LAC Reinhard in A19-49 from Richmond to Garbutt, leaving on 17th August.

We only stayed at Garbutt for a couple of nights and then we were moved to a dispersal aerodrome a few miles away at Bohle River, because the Japanese had made a couple of raids on Townsville. Ted and I took an aircraft across to Garbut a couple of times so as to be available to go up and intercept any other enemy planes that came over at night. We were never called on to go up, however.

We went down to Charters Towers to do some joint training with the Americans who had quite a big base there with Liberators, Flying Fortresses and so on. We carried out mock raids in co-operation with A20 Bostons that were based down there.

We went into Townsville every now and then for a few jars, but on the whole we had a pretty uneventful time at Bohle River. I shared a tent with Peter Fisken at Bohle River, and after a night's carousing in town he would flop onto his stretcher and light a cigarette. In the morning I would find that most of his straw palliasse had smouldered away, leaving just the bit on which he been lying. It was a wonder that he wasn't burnt to death.

Ted Jones and I were pleased to be selected to carry out the Squadron's first operational sortie. About 15 or so airmen were sent across to Port Moresby as our Advance Party on 3rd September 1942, and three days later three Beaufighters were ordered to carry out an operation from Milne Bay. Ted and I, in A19-49, led the formation across the Coral Sea with George Sayers and Ron Shaw in A19-52, and Len Vial and Les Hanks in A19-13, staging through the aerodrome at Cairns. The Briefing Officer warned us to fly down the centre of the Bay, as there were still lots of Japanese soldiers about who might take a pot-shot at us. At night a Japanese light cruiser had been coming close-in and throwing a few shells around the place, so our job was to join with Beauforts in an attack on this nuisance. The Beaufighters were to strafe the ship's decks and the Beauforts were to drop torpedoes. Unfortunately, Len Vial ran off the strip pierced-steel-matting on take-off, hit the wing-tip of a parked Hudson, and wrote both aircraft off.

With a top cover of Kittyhawks led by 'Bluey' Truscott, the two remaining Beaufighters did the straffing job on the afternoon of 7th September, and while the Beauforts did drop their torpedoes, they went all over the place — except anywhere near the cruiser. Maybe the torpedoes were cheap Japanese ones.

'Bluey' Truscott got back to base before us and reported that he had seen our aircraft in flames and that we must have been shot down. Of course what he had seen were the vivid flashes of our four 20mm cannons.  While we were down at Milne Bay we were billeted with No 76 Kittyhawk Squadron. One night, 'Bluey' completely cleared the Mess tent when he rolled a live shell along its gravel floor.

We couldn't have caused much damage to the cruiser because it came in again that night and put on its usual shelling performance. Our soldiers didn't think too much of the Air Force and its ability to take on the Japanese.

We flew back to Townsville on Tuesday 8th September and the following Friday we went back to Milne Bay, but we didn't take part in any more operations from there. We flew from the Bay to Wards strip on 25th; the Squadron had been there for about a week or so.

Japanese forces at Lae and Buna were providing support for the enemy push past Kokoda towards the Allied base at Port Moresby, and were therefore pretty important targets for the Beaufighters and other aircraft at Wards strip. About a fortnight or so after

the Squadron started to operate from Wards it suffered its first casualty when George Sayer and Archie Mairet were shot down by ground fire during an attack on Buna.

My first sortie in that general area was with Ted Jones in A19-49 on 27th September 1942 when we were sent out to attack a small ship near Salamau and then to make an offensive sweep along the coast. I flew with Ted on another operation on 5th October out of Gurney strip, but that was the last time, for in the middle of that month there was a crew change. Lennie ('The Lizard') Greenhill was sent south (probably for some medical complaint) and I was taken over by Squadron Leader Eric Lansell, who had replaced Peter Parker as a Flight Commander. My place with Ted Jones was taken by Eric Richardson, for his pilot — Flight Lieutenant Des Moran-Hilford was also sent south at about the same time, having contracted malaria during his detachment down at Milne Bay

Only a few days after that crew change, Ted Jones and Eric Richardson were shot down near Lae. A19-49 was hit by enemy Ack Ack and was seen near Voca Point with smoke coming from one of its engine as it hit the sea. There was no sign of either the pilot or the navigator. That was our second operational loss and occurred on 27th October.

On 30 October I flew on my first operational sortie with Eric Lansell when seven Beaufighters were sent down to Milne where it was intended that we would attack the Japanese aerodrome on Goodenough Island. But that was changed to an attack on enemy forces who were giving stiff resistance to the Americans at Guadalcanal. But because of an absolutely impenetrable front, and the erratic behaviour of our compasses, our flight to the Solomons had to be abandoned about half-way across and we returned to Gurney strip. I later flew with Eric against Buna on 8th November, against targets near Buna on 23rd December, and against targets along the Kumusi River on Christmas Day.

On 23rd December 1942 Eric and I were part of a formation of six Beaufighters sent out to take on targets of opportunity  in the Sanananda/Buna area. The Japanese had a large gun there whose presence was distinguished by large puffs of thick black smoke when its shell exploded in the air. I saw some of these black puffs during our low-level attack on the place, and looking down, I stared straight down the barrel of this gun as we passed over it. It had a large barrel — about six inches, I think, and I clearly saw three Japanese soldiers operating the firing mechanism. At the same time I heard a lot of crackling noise in the aircraft, but it was not immediately identifiable as I was wearing a helmet and earphones, and in any case, I was suggesting to Eric that we get the hell out of there pretty quick. When we got back to base the fitters told me that A19-30 had about 300 shrapnel holes in the fuselage. The groundstaff pasted these over with bits of fabric and the aircraft was ferried back to Wagga for repair and it was eventually allotted to No 31 Squadron in Darwin.

My last flight with Eric Lansell took place on 3rd February when we did an armed recce in the general area of Salamau, and a few days after that, Eric went south. I think that Eric was not at all comfortable with the Beaufighter, and that he was not

temperamentally suited to the aggressive characteristics of that kind of strike aeroplane. He was particularly fidgetty on the occasion when we were jumped by a batch of Zeros when we were coming back from Gasmata. I'd be watching them out the back and giving him the command to skid left or skid right, but he was so tense that he wasn't able to do it correctly.

I had been with 'Blackjack' Walker when he was CO of No 12 Squadron in the Northern Territory and had flown in Wirraways with him a few times up there. After Eric Lansell went south, I became a spare navigator for a time, and because John Mason went to Sick Quarters for a few days in February, I went out on four strikes with 'Blackjack'. The first was on 9th February against a sawmill at Malahang, when we co-operated with the Bostons, and the last was on 22nd February when we again went out with the Bostons of 22 Squadron against Uti Bukom.

I regarded 'Blackjack' as one of the world's best pilots, he could fly any kind of aeroplane at all, and could fly it magnificently. Once you got to know him he was pretty easy to get on with — if you knew your job. I should imagine that anybody who didn't match his pretty high standards of airmanship could expect a solid kick up the behind. But to me he was quite a nice bloke. He had his own way of running the Squadron, quite different from those of his Adjutant, who liked to go by the book.

On one of my jobs with 'Blackjack' we were returning in company with some American Boston A20's but found the Gap in the Owen Stanley Ranges was blocked with thick and towering clouds. The Americans musn't have known what was hidden by the clouds for they bored straight through it — and it's my belief that at least one of them was wiped off. We weren't so foolhardy and stooged around until we got up to about 30,000 ft before heading for the south coast of New Guinea. We should have been on oxygen, but we weren't; maybe we didn't have any, or maybe 'Blackjack' suggested we see how far we could go without it. The Beaufighter was wallowing around like a wounded Walrus and simply hanging on the props, but the CO did a superb job that day and we got back to base without further incident.

John Maguire must have got sick the following month for I replaced him as 'Torchy' Uren's navigator and flew two sorties on 3rd March in A19-5 on the Bismark Sea show, on the 4th in A19-5, and on the 5th in A19-37. Damien Parer filmed the Bismark Sea Battle from our aircraft.

Eleven aircraft went out on the 4th March job — Walker and Mason, Little and Spooner, Roe and Fisken, Brasenor and Anderson, Drury and Beasley, Vial and Nelson, Gibson and Cameron, Sandford and Jaggs, Morgan and Cassidy, Cummins and Kirley, plus Uren and myself. Some of us did a few straffing runs against enemy aircraft on the ground at Malahang aerodrome and a refuelling tanker, all of which were set alight. We were hit by .5 shells which damaged our cannon mountings, one of the shells putting a large hole in the floor near the spot where Damien Parer used to stand. He had intended to come with us that day, but changed his mind and flew in one of 22 Squadron's Bostons instead. Another shell came up through my legs, smashed into my radio set and put it out of action. Consequently, I couldn't transmit a warning to

others about the twelve Zeros circling above us, but managed to alert Peter Fisken to the danger by urgent upwards jabs of my finger.

Although they were only about 3,000 feet or so above our formation, they didn't see us at all. And their fellows on the ground may not have been able to tell the Zero pilots about us because we had probably knocked out their ground radio station during our attack. Anyway, we got the hell out of there pretty quick.

I had a distinct dislike for going into Lae and other heavily defended targets at first light. You could see the flashes coming from the guns as they fired, you could see the flashes in the sky as the shells exploded, and you could see the paths of the tracer bullets as they arced upwards. The Japanese always seemed to be waiting for us at Lae and during our run-in to the target I'd wonder how the hell we could get through all the stuff they were putting up against us.

My last flight with 'Torchy' was on 5th March when we joined with four other Beaufighters in what was to be the final stages of the Battle of the Bismark Sea. Damien Parer was with us on that flight. He was a bonzer bloke, very easy to get on with.

There were times when I felt like kicking 'Torchy' Uren in the behind and bringing him back to earth. He had been a motor mechanic before the war and was no doubt a pretty good pilot; but while he was with 30 Squadron he had tickets on himself and was a mite too big for his boots. He was a Squadron Leader pilot and I was just a Pilot Officer navigator, but I wasn't prepared to stand any nonsense from him; I stood up to him when the occasion warranted it. For instance, when we were flying across to Gasmata he rang me up and told me to give him my map because he'd forgotten to bring his. I told him that my map was mine; if he'd forgotten his than that was his pigeon. Hard luck; he'd have to do his best without it.

I don't mean that 'Torchy' was always totally unbearable. He was pleasant enough on the ground most of the time, but I didn't seek his company and he didn't seek mine.

Although I never personally fired a gun or dropped a bomb with the idea of killing another person on the other side, I wouldn't have been concerned about it. Even though I was involved in an indirect way, I believed that the only good Japanese were dead ones. Being involved in killing enemy forces never worried me one little bit. I wasn't terribly enthused at having to sit in the back of an aircraft and being unable to make much of a contribution to what was going on. On the whole, I found it to be rather boring.

Taking photographs at or around the targets provided me with some diversion and interest. Initially, we had an English camera which had a crank on the side but we swapped that for an American one which was trigger operated, and had a focal plane shutter. The Squadron photographers took our cameras from us as soon as we had parked the aircraft in their dispersal bays and processed the film in their hut which was located within the campsite at June Valley.

The Operations Section was also located at the June Valley camp and fronted the roadway going down to Wards strip. All our pre-flight briefings and post-flight de-briefings were held there. The Squadron Intelligence Officer was Stan Hutchinson. He was a most conscientious fellow who made sure he gave us all the information he could lay his hands on about the targets we were sent out to attack, and who went to a lot of trouble when he debriefed each crew on their return from a sortie.

The idea that I might be killed by them surfaced in my mind only occasionally; I suppose I accepted it as one of the risks of being part of the air war. Perhaps I did feel a degree of stress in the few minutes before I climbed aboard to go out on a strike, but once I got in my seat, no worries. There were things to occupy my mind from then on.

If we were unfortunate to have to crash-land in enemy territory, it was my intention to remove as much survival gear from the aircraft as possible and get away from the scene of the crash as quickly we could. We had a small pouch strapped to our webbing belt, but that held only a few items such as first aid stuff, a small block of chocolate and some matches. I never gave any thought to the possibility that I might be captured.

The Beaufighters were fitted with Australian-made radio gear — the AT5/AR8, which I hadn't seen until I arrived at Richmond. We didn't have much call to use it for air-to-air communications as we were required to observe strict radio silence. Although the navigators in the Squadron were wireless trained and could handle Morse, I can't recall ever having to use the key during my time with 30 Squadron.

I think that one of the reasons for establishing our camp at June Valley was that Sergeant Wally Edwards — a fitter IIe — went over the ground with his divining rod and found an underground water supply. 'Curly' Wearne went around with him to see that it was all fair and square. A well was dug at that spot, pumping equipment was installed, and our shower block was constructed nearby.

The Adjutant was a rather straight-laced old bloke, and although I didn't have much to do with 'Curly' Wearne, he seemed to do a good job and managed the administrative side of things quite well.

Doc Marsh was thought of very highly by everyone in the Squadron. He was a bonzer bloke who was quite approachable at any time and was always available for a yarn around the camp; he made a point of being down at the strip every time a Beaufighter took off or landed. I understand that Doc concocted some jungle juice while he was at June Valley, but I never had any of that. It's not the sort of stuff I go for, preferring to drink Whisky — not that I had any of that up there. Doc Marsh put me in his sick quarters for a couple of days when a red-back spider bit me on the back of the neck while I was in our tent. Apart from being painful, my neck was quite immobilised for a day or two.

'Caesar' O'Connor was a patient in those sick quarters a few days later after Doc Marsh discharged me, for he had been injured by enemy fire during an attack on targets in the vicinity of Buna.

He had been flying with Eric Lansell while I was out of action and had got pieces of shrapnel in the left cheek of his buttocks and in the left thigh. He was sent south not long after that.

'Blackjack' had the good sense to provide an Aircrew Mess for his crews and while it was a large marquee to begin with, 'Curly' Wearne arranged for a gang of natives to put up a thatched-roof structure early in 1943. Since the Mess tent only contained trestle tables and forms I never spent any time there outside of meal hours.

We didn't have any grog in the Mess of course — apart from the small quantities brought up by the occasional aircraft being ferried up from the mainland. The food in the Mess was pretty humdrum, very monotonous tinned stuff — mostly bully-beef or goldfish. The cooks did their best with the bully beef, sometimes coating it with batter and frying it. We had

practically nothing in the way of fresh fruit or vegetables except for the very limited amount brought up by the odd aircraft being ferried to us from down south. There was one occasion when 'Curly' Wearne pleased everybody by arranging for one of the flying boat skippers to bring us some fresh meat. It was enough for just one meal, but it was most acceptable.

I was very fond of my bunk and enjoyed sleeping in, so was always the last one in the Mess at breakfast time. Moreover, I always managed to avoid going on parades during my time in the Air force, though I don't think we had too many of those in 30 Squadron.

We had two fellows on the staff of the Mess who were homosexuals, and everyone in the unit knew about them. But nobody thought any the less of either of them or their effeminate ways — which was pretty unusual in those days when fellows of that ilk hadn't 'come out' as the saying now is. Another member of the Squadron was thought to be that way inclined, and he too belonged to the messing section — although I don't think he actually worked in the Mess itself.  In any case, he left the Squadron early in 1943.

I was a licensed driver before I joined the Air Force and so had no trouble handling the Squadron's jeep, which I used now and then to travel between the camp and the strip. I also sometimes used one of the Harley Davidson bikes to get down to the strip; these were powerful machines and if you got into a patch of mud, up would go the front wheel and you'd go off on your back.

What did I do when I wasn't flying?  What was there to do but lie on your canvas stretcher to while away the time, or read whatever books you could lay your hands on, or play cards. I often joined in a game of Euchre or Five Hundred — generally with my tentmate, Peter Fisken. We had teamed up when we were at Bohle River and we kept together while we at Moresby.

There were picture shows to go to at night, and I occasionally went up the road to see films screened by 22 Squadron at their camp. They had a boxing ring there too, and I saw a number of bouts organised by 22 Squadron — including fights between New Guinea natives.

I occasionally went across to the large marquee occupied by the Padre and listened to his talks about books and current affairs. He was a reasonable bloke.

One of our jobs around the camp was to censor the airmen's mail. 'Curly' would come round the tents during the day and ask the occupants if they would mind doing a few letters, but it was a job I thoroughly hated. I always put my hand across the name of the addressee so that I was unaware of the correspondent's name or relationship to the sender.  I don't think I ever had occasion to snip anything out of any of the letters I dealt with.

Every now and then I would go with a group of other fellows from the Squadron for a meal and a few grogs in the Officer's Mess in town.  My commission came through in January 1943 but before that one of the party would provide me with a pair of a Pilot Officer's shoulder-slides so that I could go with them to the Officer's Mess.  The party often consisted of Brian Walker, John Mason, Ross Little, Ron Uren and myself.

We had slit trenches beside our tents at June Valley, but I didn't use it very often.  I preferred to lie in my bunk during most of the air raids and it was only when things looked a bit hot and shrapnel started flying around that I bothered to do anything about it.  I would get under my wire bed rather than use the trench; I didn't have a tin hat, as I had long since thrown it away because I found it too heavy to cart around.  The shrapnel was often about two inches long and a quarter of an inch across.  We had a Bofors ack ack unit on the hill behind us at June Valley and although they were totally ineffective against the enemy planes flying at 20,000 feet or so, they would blast away just for the hell of it.  And then all their rubbish would start to come whistling down.   Even though the ack ack units weren't at all effective, the searchlights were pretty good and got on to the raiders pretty quickly.

Ross Little tended to be a somewhat sarcastic and tended to be a rather hard on people who he thought were not doing their job as well as they ought to be.  Nevertheless, he appeared to be reasonably well liked, and I got on with him OK.

'Bronco' Hughes and Bill Keller were on the same mission as Ted Jones and I when we operated out of Gurney strip on 5th October 1942.  On 15th November they joined with some American B26s in an attack on Buna when his aircraft, A19-36 was hit by machine-gun fire.  It appears that 'Bronco' then did all the wrong things as far as aircraft handling was concerned and this resulted in considerable damage to his Beaufighter's systems.  On top of which, he managed to stand the Beaufighter on its nose when he landed back at Wards, resulting in even further damage.  'Bronco' was short-toured, leaving the Squadron in January 1943.

The first batch of relief crews arrived late in March 1943 and consisted of Ball and Hardman, Eddison and Allott, Nicholson and Delbridge, Raffen and Dick, Wollcott and Hasenohr, Harris and Miller.  By that time a few of the crews who had joined the Squadron at Richmond had gone south at the end of their six month's operational tour in the tropics, but the CO and the two flight commanders were kept there a bit longer.  I went south with 'Torchy' Uren at the end of May 1943.


PERSONAL  PARTICULARS


NAME    :   HAROLD  CRAWFORD  SUTHONS
BORN ON    :   9th August 1915
BORN AT    :   Hurstville
FATHER    :   Archibald Percy Suthons
MOTHER    :   Emily Collins
EDUCATED AT    :   Hurstville High
MARRIED TO    :   Rosalind Ellen Carter
MARRIED ON    :   12th April 1943
MARRIED AT    :   St Phillip's, Sydney
CHILDREN    :   Carol Sue
    :   Diane Lesley
    :   David Charles
ENLISTED AT    :   Harris St, Sydney
ENLISTED ON    :   16th January 1940
ENLISTED AS        :   Aircraft Hand 
DISCHARGED AT    :   Sydney
DISCHARGED ON    :   29th August 1945
RANK on DISCHARGE    :    Flying Officer
OCCUPATION after DISCHARGE:      Shopkeeper
        33 Bay St, Mosman  2088 (02) 969 6115