In the early part of 1953 there was a King Tide accompanied by hurricane force winds which struck the east coast of England and also the Netherlands, causing great amounts of flooding in those low-lying areas close to the North Sea. Many of the Canadian Airmen volunteered to help out in the flood stricken areas af England. So one day I found myself driving a forty passenger bus filled with Airmen and lots of flood fighting gear across to the area near Yarmouth. We were quartered in RAF barracks on an RAF unit near Horsham-Saint-Faiths. From there I drove our volunteer flood-fighters east to the area around the city of Yarmouth where they were engaged in filling sand bags and with them repairing breaches in the dikes that had resulted from the great storm. I drove them there in the mornings and drove them back to the RAF Station in the evenings. In between times I helped with the flood-fighting work. My friend, Bud Pitts arrived about one day after I did, driving another load of RCAF Airmen flood-fighters from our base at North Luffenham. Bud and I really had no specific duties to perform other than to provide transportation where needed for the flood-fighters, so we were able to move about quite freely from flood site to flood site so long as we were back to the rendez-vous place when required.
After we had been there for a few days Bud and I were ordered to go out to the dikes and bring back to the City of Yarmouth, a good number of the Canadian Airmen from the breached dikes to the area immediately in front of the Yarmouth Railway Station. When we got back with the men we were all lined up in a rough sort of military fashion and told that Clementine Churchill was arriving at the Railway Station on a special train which was due in in a matter of minutes. So, there we all stood in our rubber boots and muddy coveralls, trying to somehow look sort of military. There were many of Yarmouth's Dignitaries arranged very close to the exit area from the Station, dressed up in their finery and looking real proper, particularly when compared to us dirty, muddy, un-shaven and very tired looking Canadians.
Well! Clemmie arrived, came out of the Railway Station, and after a very brief introduction to somebody who we assumed to be the Mayor of Yarmouth, she strode right past all the finely dressed 'Elite' of the town and came directly to where we Canadians stood in our flood-fighting gear. She said quite loudly and clearly, 'Well! It's certainly easy to see whose doing all the work around here!' Then she walked among us, shaking the hands of each and every man of us thanking us for the help we were providing. She told us that she wished that 'Winston' could have been the one to be there, but that he was down with the 'flu' or some other ailment, and just couldn't make it. That lady's presence made all of our labours truly worthwhile!
Updated: April 26, 2003