Again with the pointlessly emotive projects.
I'm writing a novel, mostly as a writing exercise, based on something I bought in Camden. I found a card from 1944, inviting "R. A. C. Cooper" to the Royal Air Force Unit dance. The dance took place in the Garrison Theatre, 24th November 1944 at 7.30pm. The back of the card is written in Afrikaans, and copies the same information.
How irresistable! Time for some research.
Garrison Theatre, Diest
I start by sticking Diest into Wikipedia. Turns out it's not in Africa - damn, there goes my Oscar possibilites - but in Flanders, which means the back of the card is in Dutch. Makes sense - November 1944 is post-D-Day, so they could certainly be based in Europe.
R.A.C. Cooper
According to the IWM, the best database of fighting men is actually the Commonweath War Graves Commission. It's like walking over my grave. We visited the CWGC during the Canada debacle. It's reasonable, I thought, that Cooper might be dead - so with a bit of trepidation try their database:
http://www.cwgc.org/search/SearchResults.aspx?surname=cooper&initials=R+A&war=2&yearfrom=1900&yearto=2000&force=Air&nationality=6&send.x=48&send.y=15
I was relieved to note that this casualty report comes from an entire year before the dance. It also occured to me that R.A.C. wasn't necessarily initials - Royal Air Commander? Sounds a bit grand, but the alternative is that he has three initials and the Commanding Officer felt the need to use all three of them. The Roll of veterans that have died since have plenty of Coopers, so I need to do some narrowing down.
409 R.S.U.
The RAF website has a handy site for searching historic squadrons, but it doesn't look like they had the 400s. But Wikipedia turns up a Canadian Squadron which were formed in 1941, that were in France and Germany in 1944. That's more or less the right place. Oh my, if he's a Canadian it would be uncanny. The Canadian RAF site has information on them too - same with Lincolnshire. But the best site I found is this one, which confirms that not only were they in Europe, they were in Belgium - score!
Incidentally, this would be easier if I knew anything about WWII history, so please pitch in if you are a military expert.
If this is the one, then it is a night-fighting squadron - with a rather charming Latin motto "Media Nox Meridies Noster" and badge. Cooper would have been flying the Mosquito MkXIII at this point - Mosquitos are made of plywood, Did You Know - and between June 1944 and May 1945, was the top-scoring night-fighter unit in the RAF.
The card reads "The Commanding Officer of 490 R.S.U. requests...", and this website lists "commanders". If that's the same as Commanding Office - don't laugh, I'm muddying around in someone else's field - then the invite came from W/C J.D. Somerville. I can also scratch the databases of medals and awards from my search, as I'm sure this page would have listed it if he'd won something special. Having snooped around the In Memoram sections of that site, I am increasingly sure that my Cooper survived the war. But there is a "S.D. Cooper" listed in the roll of more recent deaths. I also found a photo of the squadron, although it's from 1956.
With all this in mind, I try the CWGC again - searching Canadians, instead of Brits. No results. No wait, I spelt Cooper wrong. Lots of results. I can rule out everyone who died before November 1944, and checking through the ones who died after none are in the right regiment. He made it! Sweet. I feel better already.
R.A.C. Cooper (II)
I've been bashing my head against a wall for a while now. Understandably, war records aren't on the web. The military are secretive and don't release full lists of who was where. And the archivists don't want to release service information for anyone still living. And until I can find either of those, there's no way I can discover Cooper's first name or service number, and thus get any further.
I have found a book on the squadron, but the only copy amazon has is $150. A military research site gives an address to write to:
RAF Disclosures, Room 221B, Trenchard Hall, RAF Cranwell, Sleaford, Lincs, NG34 8HB
And from wikipedia's page on the Canadian Air Force, it doesn't look like RAC is an abbreviation for a rank. My case disintigrates further as I realise that an invite to the 409 Squadron ball isn't the same as being a member of the squadron. In fact, doesn't suggest the opposite? At the same time, if they were inviting non-military folk I assume they would be quite posh or important, indicating a proper letter instead of a formal card; plus, it's been written on the English side not the Dutch one.
Until now, I'd been hunting around the Imperial War Museum website - but now it was time to hop over to the Musee Canadien de la Guerre. Another place I visited on the Trip That Shall Not Be Named. Totally useless, unless I'm able to physically go and root around in their libraries.
I finally approach our National Archives to see what can be done. They have a page all about what can be searched viz the Air Force. They keep saying, variations on nothing at all. They do have some ways of getting around, however - one is looking up Combat Reports. No luck there! They admit not all are online, but it might be worth visiting in person.
And that's all I can do for now! Any of my military-minded readers have anything to add?
That's not the only thing I picked up. I also have a certificate written to Miss Gladys Rees, thanking her for a year of war-service in the British Red Cross. It's lovelier than the dance card but, because I have deep-rooted misogyny I've yet to stamp out, it seems far less interesting. And the Red Cross won't release their records either.
Collecting ephemera is a nasty little hobby, and one I intend to plunge headfirst at. Like my other collections, it's giving things of no value at all a value. It's not expensive if you don't do it too seriously, and yet the amount of joy you can get from this household crap is considerable. "Ephemera" in collectors terms is anything too mundane to have genuine value - labels, telegrams, old cards, Victorian scraps, bookmarks - the turn-of-the-century equivalent of those ad-cards you get pockets stuffed with after a trip to Camden.
My obsession has been cemented by a local antiquarian book fair which Vapilla and I attended over the weekend. The books were a long way out of anyone's price range; and most of them looked better in context of shelves of gorgeous leather than they would have on my desk at home. But lots of the stalls were appended by ephemera boxes, and diving through them was great fun. I would put photos of my finds up, but I'm lazy. Of course, it wasn't all cheap. I would have got a vintage Tube map, if it had been reasonably priced. And I still rue a heavy packet of old love letters which I had to leave behind - I figured there were probably at least 50 more worthy uses of £50, but I'm regretful all the same.
In the end, I only spent a fiver - two beautiful Victorian Christmas cards, written inside. A very colourful label for a product I'm not sure of, with a Red Injun on a horse. And a postcard, which I'm keeping wrapped in paper and have filed under "questionable taste". I was diving through stacks of sheets when I found it, and exclaimed loudly enough that the bibliophiles around me frowned. Vapilla and I were the youngest there, and though we got talking with some sellers who thought it was cool, others glared at us. One man was very friendly - he specialised in childrens books with gorgeous covers, some of which were real gold leaf. He said that it would be too expensive to produce books of that level of beauty nowadays, and that no one would buy them. Probably true.
But back to the postcard. I think the volume of my cry was justified. It's a yellowing thing, with space for a stamp e.t.c. confirming what it is, but there are no words to date it, place it or -goodness knows - explain it. The front image is all in brown, and - I'm not sure how best to say this, so I'll just say it - it appears to be a genuine photo of a Holocaust victim staring at the camera, and I think trying to eat something. I've no idea where it's from - it's not necessarily from a Nazi camp, could be from any place where the inmates weren't clothed or fed for months on end - but it's bloody nasty. Legs shouldn't bend like that. And I just don't understand who would want to either send or recieve it, and in what context it was produced, and whoever thought it was a good idea - although I'm pretty sure I know what happened to the subject. For 50p, I had to buy it, just to assure myself that it had ever existed. And I don't regret that, although I confess I don't like having it around - even double-wrapped in paper bags at the bottom of one of my junk boxes it makes me a little uncomfortable every time I remember it.
So. Anyone who has ideas about who Cooper might have been, or for how I can come closer to finding him - or who can shed any light on what that thing in the bottom of my wardrobe is - please comment away.
I'm writing a novel, mostly as a writing exercise, based on something I bought in Camden. I found a card from 1944, inviting "R. A. C. Cooper" to the Royal Air Force Unit dance. The dance took place in the Garrison Theatre, 24th November 1944 at 7.30pm. The back of the card is written in Afrikaans, and copies the same information.
How irresistable! Time for some research.
Garrison Theatre, Diest
I start by sticking Diest into Wikipedia. Turns out it's not in Africa - damn, there goes my Oscar possibilites - but in Flanders, which means the back of the card is in Dutch. Makes sense - November 1944 is post-D-Day, so they could certainly be based in Europe.
R.A.C. Cooper
According to the IWM, the best database of fighting men is actually the Commonweath War Graves Commission. It's like walking over my grave. We visited the CWGC during the Canada debacle. It's reasonable, I thought, that Cooper might be dead - so with a bit of trepidation try their database:
http://www.cwgc.org/search/SearchResults.aspx?surname=cooper&initials=R+A&war=2&yearfrom=1900&yearto=2000&force=Air&nationality=6&send.x=48&send.y=15
I was relieved to note that this casualty report comes from an entire year before the dance. It also occured to me that R.A.C. wasn't necessarily initials - Royal Air Commander? Sounds a bit grand, but the alternative is that he has three initials and the Commanding Officer felt the need to use all three of them. The Roll of veterans that have died since have plenty of Coopers, so I need to do some narrowing down.
409 R.S.U.
The RAF website has a handy site for searching historic squadrons, but it doesn't look like they had the 400s. But Wikipedia turns up a Canadian Squadron which were formed in 1941, that were in France and Germany in 1944. That's more or less the right place. Oh my, if he's a Canadian it would be uncanny. The Canadian RAF site has information on them too - same with Lincolnshire. But the best site I found is this one, which confirms that not only were they in Europe, they were in Belgium - score!
Incidentally, this would be easier if I knew anything about WWII history, so please pitch in if you are a military expert.
If this is the one, then it is a night-fighting squadron - with a rather charming Latin motto "Media Nox Meridies Noster" and badge. Cooper would have been flying the Mosquito MkXIII at this point - Mosquitos are made of plywood, Did You Know - and between June 1944 and May 1945, was the top-scoring night-fighter unit in the RAF.
The card reads "The Commanding Officer of 490 R.S.U. requests...", and this website lists "commanders". If that's the same as Commanding Office - don't laugh, I'm muddying around in someone else's field - then the invite came from W/C J.D. Somerville. I can also scratch the databases of medals and awards from my search, as I'm sure this page would have listed it if he'd won something special. Having snooped around the In Memoram sections of that site, I am increasingly sure that my Cooper survived the war. But there is a "S.D. Cooper" listed in the roll of more recent deaths. I also found a photo of the squadron, although it's from 1956.
With all this in mind, I try the CWGC again - searching Canadians, instead of Brits. No results. No wait, I spelt Cooper wrong. Lots of results. I can rule out everyone who died before November 1944, and checking through the ones who died after none are in the right regiment. He made it! Sweet. I feel better already.
R.A.C. Cooper (II)
I've been bashing my head against a wall for a while now. Understandably, war records aren't on the web. The military are secretive and don't release full lists of who was where. And the archivists don't want to release service information for anyone still living. And until I can find either of those, there's no way I can discover Cooper's first name or service number, and thus get any further.
I have found a book on the squadron, but the only copy amazon has is $150. A military research site gives an address to write to:
RAF Disclosures, Room 221B, Trenchard Hall, RAF Cranwell, Sleaford, Lincs, NG34 8HB
And from wikipedia's page on the Canadian Air Force, it doesn't look like RAC is an abbreviation for a rank. My case disintigrates further as I realise that an invite to the 409 Squadron ball isn't the same as being a member of the squadron. In fact, doesn't suggest the opposite? At the same time, if they were inviting non-military folk I assume they would be quite posh or important, indicating a proper letter instead of a formal card; plus, it's been written on the English side not the Dutch one.
Until now, I'd been hunting around the Imperial War Museum website - but now it was time to hop over to the Musee Canadien de la Guerre. Another place I visited on the Trip That Shall Not Be Named. Totally useless, unless I'm able to physically go and root around in their libraries.
I finally approach our National Archives to see what can be done. They have a page all about what can be searched viz the Air Force. They keep saying, variations on nothing at all. They do have some ways of getting around, however - one is looking up Combat Reports. No luck there! They admit not all are online, but it might be worth visiting in person.
And that's all I can do for now! Any of my military-minded readers have anything to add?
That's not the only thing I picked up. I also have a certificate written to Miss Gladys Rees, thanking her for a year of war-service in the British Red Cross. It's lovelier than the dance card but, because I have deep-rooted misogyny I've yet to stamp out, it seems far less interesting. And the Red Cross won't release their records either.
Collecting ephemera is a nasty little hobby, and one I intend to plunge headfirst at. Like my other collections, it's giving things of no value at all a value. It's not expensive if you don't do it too seriously, and yet the amount of joy you can get from this household crap is considerable. "Ephemera" in collectors terms is anything too mundane to have genuine value - labels, telegrams, old cards, Victorian scraps, bookmarks - the turn-of-the-century equivalent of those ad-cards you get pockets stuffed with after a trip to Camden.
My obsession has been cemented by a local antiquarian book fair which Vapilla and I attended over the weekend. The books were a long way out of anyone's price range; and most of them looked better in context of shelves of gorgeous leather than they would have on my desk at home. But lots of the stalls were appended by ephemera boxes, and diving through them was great fun. I would put photos of my finds up, but I'm lazy. Of course, it wasn't all cheap. I would have got a vintage Tube map, if it had been reasonably priced. And I still rue a heavy packet of old love letters which I had to leave behind - I figured there were probably at least 50 more worthy uses of £50, but I'm regretful all the same.
In the end, I only spent a fiver - two beautiful Victorian Christmas cards, written inside. A very colourful label for a product I'm not sure of, with a Red Injun on a horse. And a postcard, which I'm keeping wrapped in paper and have filed under "questionable taste". I was diving through stacks of sheets when I found it, and exclaimed loudly enough that the bibliophiles around me frowned. Vapilla and I were the youngest there, and though we got talking with some sellers who thought it was cool, others glared at us. One man was very friendly - he specialised in childrens books with gorgeous covers, some of which were real gold leaf. He said that it would be too expensive to produce books of that level of beauty nowadays, and that no one would buy them. Probably true.
But back to the postcard. I think the volume of my cry was justified. It's a yellowing thing, with space for a stamp e.t.c. confirming what it is, but there are no words to date it, place it or -goodness knows - explain it. The front image is all in brown, and - I'm not sure how best to say this, so I'll just say it - it appears to be a genuine photo of a Holocaust victim staring at the camera, and I think trying to eat something. I've no idea where it's from - it's not necessarily from a Nazi camp, could be from any place where the inmates weren't clothed or fed for months on end - but it's bloody nasty. Legs shouldn't bend like that. And I just don't understand who would want to either send or recieve it, and in what context it was produced, and whoever thought it was a good idea - although I'm pretty sure I know what happened to the subject. For 50p, I had to buy it, just to assure myself that it had ever existed. And I don't regret that, although I confess I don't like having it around - even double-wrapped in paper bags at the bottom of one of my junk boxes it makes me a little uncomfortable every time I remember it.
So. Anyone who has ideas about who Cooper might have been, or for how I can come closer to finding him - or who can shed any light on what that thing in the bottom of my wardrobe is - please comment away.
Comments (2)
I think 409 RSU is 409 Repair & Salvage Unit. They were in Holland in 1944/5 fixing spitfires, typhoons etc. Interesting that your RAC Cooper does not have a rank, but is clearly in holland in wartime. He could be a civilian expert, some government functionary or a lower rank than Pilot Officer, so does not get the title on invites. I found one electrivian who was a civilian on RAF airbases in WW2. The mystery deepens.
It does indeed! The more I find out, the more my perception changes - and that's what the novel is going to be about...