Bomber Command

I’ve been incredibly fortunate in my life to have met some truly remarkable individuals, encounters that seemed to happen by pure chance. One of these moments, a simple dinner at my parents’ house, set me on an unexpected journey that spanned nearly two years—a journey that led me to sit down with men who had witnessed World War II from the skies. Over the course of those two years, I met three wonderful gentlemen who generously shared their time and reflected on the horrors they had personally experienced while airborne over Britain and Europe. When I spoke with them, it had been nearly 60 years since those events, and I knew I was speaking to them in the twilight of their lives, knowing I might never meet anyone like them again.

Each of these men was different—unique in character, stature, and personality. But what they all had in common was that they lived in the southeast of England and had been part of a defining chapter in history. They took me back to those dark days, and I felt privileged to hear firsthand accounts of what it was like to fly on dangerous missions, knowing the stakes were unimaginably high with death being a real part of the experience..

Over time, relationships were developed with tow of the men, Fred Crawley and Sidney Beaver. While recounting their experiences was often emotionally draining and distressing, we also found moments of lightness—stories of camaraderie and resilience that kept their spirits alive during the war. It was clear to me that, even six decades later, their courage remained as steadfast as it had been during those perilous flights.

These men gave me a gift: the gift of their memories and their perspective on a time we must never forget. It’s crucial that we continue to remember the sacrifices they made, for the sake of future generations. We owe them our gratitude for the freedoms we enjoy today, living in a society shaped by their bravery.

While living in the East Midlands, I had the fortune to meet an incredible friend, Kevin Widdowson. Reflecting on the remarkable people I’ve met over the years, I realize how lucky I’ve been to form bonds that go beyond friendship. Many of these people have become like family—individuals who not only excel in their professional lives but also push the boundaries of what we consider “normal” in the Western world.

Where to start with Kevin? He’s the captain of Global Marine System ships, a sailor who crewed the Cable and Wireless Adventurer—a ship that sailed around the world in record time. He’s also a pilot and the owner of his own Grob aircraft, and above all, he’s someone with an infectious passion for life. The Widdowsons have become family to me, and I love them all dearly.

Given Kevin’s wide array of interests and experiences, I knew he’d be intrigued by my ongoing project to document WWII history from the air. A few years prior, Kevin had invited me to fly into a small runway where the renowned Lancaster bomber, Just Jane, was based—an experience that inspired us to return and document more of these historical sites.

Kevin graciously offered to help by flying me in his aircraft over the many disused runways that once dotted the landscape during WWII. From the air, it became clear just how many of these runways existed, even though most have long since been repurposed into crop fields. The patterns of rape seed and sugar beet still trace the outlines of these forgotten airfields. Seeing it all from above gave me a profound perspective on the scale of activity that had taken place during the war.

Our flights also took us to various airports like the Lincolnshire Aviation Centre and RAF Elvington in Yorkshire, where I was able to access archives that were invaluable for my research. On the ground, I focused on documenting the disused buildings—structures that had once been bustling with life during the war and still retained their distinct wartime character. I captured countless images from the Wash, an area that had been crucial for practice flights before the airmen embarked on their missions over Europe.