Photo courtesy of the Dept of National Defense – PL-7156 – UK-903 –
30 January 1942 – 411 Canadian Fighter Squadron, Sgt. Pilot J.S. Arundel, of Peterborough, Ont., right, inspects new sweater issue, which fighter pilots wear under battle dress. Pilot Officer J.W. Sills, of Toronto, looks on approvingly.
Recently a book, emails, and photos came into my possession that brought to life someone I knew only as a name on the Millbrook cenotaph: J.S. Arundel.
That aristocratic surname (there is a castle in England by this name) has often made me wonder about him. And now I know. And I hope you will want to read on.
John Stanley George Arundel– Johnny or Jack– was a man born in Cleveland, Ohio; raised in Millbrook; enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force in WWII; and dead at the much too early age of 21, shot down by the German Air Force and lost in the English Channel near Dunkirk. Long-time resident and our corporate historical memory, Mary Ridge, remembers Arundel. She remembers him as the first of our local boys who enlisted to die in the war, as well as a good friend of her brother, Sammy, and a “dandy” who always clicked his heels as he walked.
The book that came into my possession really fleshes out Arundel’s service in WWII. “Another Kind of Courage” written by Norman Franks records the stories of air-sea rescues in the waters off southern England during WWII. The Battle of Britain (which was in fact a number of “battles” that happened in the skies over England during the summer and fall of 1940) was long over. It was becoming more and more apparent that Allied Air Forces were essential to ultimate victory. And so in 1941 the decision was made to “take the war to the enemy.” This involved many dangerous flights over water with the ever present risk of engine trouble or being shot down by enemy fire. And the number of air force men needing rescue from the water necessitated creating squadrons of trained flyers to make these rescues. Johnny Arundel of the Royal Canadian Air Force, squadron number 411, found himself serving in England with the Royal Air Force air-sea rescue, squadron number 277.
These air-sea rescue squadrons flew several types of airplane. Squadron number 277 used Defiants, Lysanders and the amphibious or supermarine (that is, capable of landing on and taking off from water) Walrus. The book is full of information on the aircraft, the missions, and the men of the various air-sea rescue squadrons. Johnny Arundel just happened to be in the squadron that rescued the most men. Pilots flew all the various types of aircraft including the Walrus. When not flying the amphibious Walrus though, their work would involve trying to locate “customers” in the water and then alerting high-speed launches to their location to come and rescue them.
Tragically, the Defiant airplane was not designed well enough. It had no capacity to aim its gun forward; neither was it equipped with radar. Flyers felt very vulnerable in it. Therefore, it was quickly relegated to night-flying missions and to air-sea rescue.
Even rescue work always involved danger from the German Air Force, the Luftwaffe; therefore, the various aircraft always had gunners on board for protection, as well as accompanying fighter aircraft. Arundel’s luck ran out though on July 25th, 1942. He and his comrade, Sergeant W. G. Bunn, flying a Defiant towards Dunkirk to try to locate a pilot in the “drink”, came under enemy fire. They and their escorting Spitfires were attacked by six Luftwaffe aircraft. One Spitfire and the Defiant were shot down and the remaining Spitfire witnessed them hit the water and blow up.
“Another Kind of Courage” is full of stories and information. Recently, we were staying with friends in England and they took us to an old air base at Duxford that is now one of five Imperial War Museums. It is devoted to the role the Allied Air Forces played in the various wars. How I wish I had read the book before visiting because I would have eagerly sought out a Defiant and a Walrus!
But back to our hero, Johnny Arundel. Gordon White is the nephew of Sergeant Bunn and he donated the book. He also passed along various photos including log books kept by his uncle’s flying team–and even the final entry where Arundel and team never came back. Kim McLeod, the Millbrook and Cavan Historical Society’s hardworking genealogist and manager of collections, had frequent contact with Gordon White and passed me the book and other materials so I could write this article.
Gordon White even went so far as to contact National Defence , Government of Canada. A diligent still imagery researcher at the Canadian Forces Joint Imagery Centre sent him a wonderful photo. In the photo Arundel inspects his newly issued sweater which fighter pilots wore to keep warm under their flying uniform.
The Commonwealth War Graves Commission’s records show that Arundel’s name is inscribed on Panel 102 in the Runnymede Memorial in Surrey, England. The Commission, however, does not provide information on a cemetery or a description of his headstone. Arundel’s body and the body of his comrade Bunn were never recovered from the English Channel.
How I wish I could extend this article! I could tell you about “Mae Wests” and the gradual implementation of dinghies for “customers in the drink” and the wonderful and evocative letter that Johnny wrote to his old friend, Orv Waimann. But I’m glad to tell you that the historical society has given “Another Kind of Courage” on permanent loan to the Millbrook Branch of the library; so you now can read all the interesting information yourselves.
The soldier on the Millbrook cenotaph maintains his silent vigil, while the names on the cenotaph bear mute testimony to the horrible cost of war. But this Remembrance Day when we again assemble and repeat together the refrain, “We will remember them”, we will be able to truthfully say we do remember at least one more.
by Glen Spurrell
